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pathologicalreid · 7 months

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buried alive | S.R.

in which the BAU races against the clock to rescue you from a killer team

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: angsty

content warnings: kidnapping, case stuff (murder yk), suffocation, being buried alive, hospitals, blood, nausea, CPR, funerals, use of pet names, guns, and drugs. i think that's all.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: okay, so i've been reading so much spencer fanfic and i started writing it and yesterday i realized i have 20 fics written and they're doing no one any good just sitting on my computer. i decided to finally try posting one. i wrote fanfic in high school (so like seven years ago) but this is my first time writing for a TV show. i've also never really posted on tumblr so please bear with me while i try to figure out formatting. tysm for checking out my post.

part two part three

You walked into the conference room and dropped the file on the table, allowing it to land on the wood with a satisfying splat. “The unsub’s burying them alive,” you said, letting the rest of the team know the conclusion you had come to with the medical examiner. “The M.E. found metal shavings and satin threads under the nails of our last victim. The most common materials to make up a casket.”

“There’s no way someone could bury someone alive in a casket alone, we’ve got to be dealing with a team, at least three people,” Emily concluded, standing in front of the evidence board.

It was the team’s third day on a case in Nebraska, four women had been discovered dead. Asphyxiation by hypoxia. Carbon dioxide poisoning.

“Approximately 420 people in the United States die from accidental carbon dioxide poisoning every year,” Spencer said, grabbing the file off of the table and flipping through it, taking a few seconds to read through it.

Rossi looked over Reid’s shoulder to look at the file, “but there’s nothing accidental about these deaths. Who would have access to these caskets?”

You shook your head, placing a hand on the back of Spencer’s chair, “A funeral director seems most likely.” You looked around at the Omaha field office, different agents running about in an attempt to solve these very murders. “They’d have the most access, write it off as displays. It could be hard to match the materials since they’re so common.”

Hotch leaned over the table and pressed the conference phone, “What can I do you for?” Garcia’s bright voice rang through the speaker.

“Garcia, I need you to look into funeral homes within the comfort zone. Look for a director who’s ordered more caskets than they’ve had funerals. Find anything, nothing is too small.” He told her.

“Absolutely, I’ll hit you back when I’ve got something,” she said, hanging up the phone.

There ended up being four funeral homes in the unsub’s comfort zone, so the team split up. You went with two locals to a family-owned business, Garcia had sent you all of the files you’d need on the location. “It looks like the Varn family has been in the funeral business since the seventeenth century,” you read aloud to the two agents you were in the car with.

“Does it mean they’re more or less likely to be the killers if they’ve been in business for so long?” One of the agents asked you, a younger man named Harrison.

You pursed your lips as you continued to look over the files, “I’m not seeing any glaringly obvious stressors before the murders started, but over the years I’ve learned that’s no reason to write someone off. Psychopaths can be tipped off by the slightest thing. Things none of us would bat an eye at.”

Harrison nodded in the passenger seat, looking over to his partner Jimmy, “You and your guy sure do make an interesting pair.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment, so thank you.” You and Spencer never explicitly stated to the field office that you were dating, but you walked into the precinct this morning holding hands. The agents must have drawn their own conclusions.

The younger officer cleared his throat, “It is a compliment, ma’am. The two of you are very impressive, your whole team is.”

You smiled, “Thank you, Harrison.”

The funeral home was run by a mother and her two sons, you held up your credentials for the mother when you knocked on the door. “Are you Sheila Varn?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows.

“Yes, what’s this about?” She inquired. She didn’t really look the part of a serial killer, a middle-aged woman who was running her family business.

Pocketing your credentials, you spoke, “We’re investigating the recent murders in the area and we were wondering if you had samples of the materials your caskets are made out of. Might we be able to come in?” You asked, adding a charming smile for effect.

Something flashed across her face before she returned your smile, opening the door and welcoming the three of you inside. “Hold on, let me get my boys up here. They’re so much more versed in the goings on of the town than I am,” she said, opening the door and calling for her sons. Felix and Joss came up the stairs from the basement, now they definitely had the physique to load dead women into caskets and bury them alive.

“Why don’t you two men come with me? I’ll get you those samples,” Sheila said, motioning for the agents you were with to follow her. To your horror, they followed her around the corner. “Felix, Joss, show this young lady what you know,” she instructed.

You took a deep breath before you looked up at the two men.

They were tall, maybe Spencer’s height, but they were built like wrestlers. There was no way you could physically subdue them on your own.

You passed out before you even had the chance to pull your gun.

Hotch was in full Unit Chief mode, Spencer watched from the corner of the room as he separated people into groups and gave them specific instructions. JJ and Morgan walked into the precinct, “What’s going on?” JJ asked looking around the room.

“The Varn Family is the team; two agents were found drugged on the side of the road and when we went to the funeral home Y/N was missing. Her badge, gun, and phone were all there, covered in blood,” Spencer said morosely, watching as Hotch finished giving orders and called the rest of the team over.

Your picture was up on the evidence board with the word “missing” written in bold letters beneath it. All of your belongings had been put into evidence for the time being. “Reid?” Hotch said his name, causing his head to snap up. “Are you okay to keep working?”

Spencer nodded affirmatively, “Yes.”

“Good, I need you to estimate how much time we have, I want a clock on these screens,” he ordered.

Morgan turned to Reid, “What do you think she has, kid?”

“The tidal volume for the average adult is point five at rest. That ends up being about six liters per minute. The average casket is approximately 886 liters in total volume and the average volume of the human body is 66 liters, leaving 820 liters to be filled with air for her to breathe. If she’s been gone for half an hour already, I’d estimate she has less than five hours of breathable air left.” Spencer explained, doing all of the math in his head while Emily put a timer on the screen next to the evidence board.

After a moment, Hotch continued, “Rossi, JJ, go back to the funeral home. Tear it apart, there has to be something there we haven’t found yet. The rest of us will split the list of cemeteries in the comfort zone and search them.”

“That’s a lot of ground to cover, we don’t have anything else to go on?” Morgan asked, looking at the list of burial sites he had been handed.

Hotch looked at Spencer, but Spencer stayed silent. “That’s all we have right now,” Hotch responded, “hopefully we’ll come across leads as we go.”

It smelled like a garden around you. The memory reminded you of spring with your mother, tending to the vegetable garden.

The only difference was that instead of the sun beaming down on you, it was pitch black. The space surrounding you was so dark that you weren’t totally sure your eyes were open.

Your head was throbbing just above your right temple, and you observed your surroundings. Slowly, you lifted your arm until it hit a ceiling.

Not a ceiling. A lid. You were in a casket. You pressed one hand to your chest and tried to slow your breathing. Chances were that the casket was already buried beneath the surface of the earth, trying to open it could be catastrophic. You patted the pockets of your jeans, only to find your phone missing, so the team wouldn’t be able to trace the location.

Even if you had it, there likely wouldn’t be service six feet under.

Your team would find you. They had to find you.

They found Spencer, they found Emily, and they would find you.

Spencer shifted in the passenger seat of the SUV, “You know, carbon dioxide poisoning is a rather peaceful way to die.”

“Reid,” Morgan said, turning the vehicle onto the main road, they had just finished scouring over another cemetery with still no sign of you.

He sighed and stared at his hands, “No, it’s good. We see so many people killed in so many different ways that it’s good that she won’t be in pain when she runs out of air.” He tried to convince himself.

Morgan cleared his throat, “We aren’t out of time yet, kid. We can still find her. Y/N’s smart, I’m sure she found a way to make more air or something.”

But they were running out of time, less than an hour remained on the timer set on all of their phones.

They pulled into the next cemetery, “There’s some fresh dirt over there, what are the names on the graves of people who were actually recently buried?”

Spencer starts to recite the names, and the two of them start to comb through the cemetery.

You had done enough research on this case to understand what was going on. The light-headed feeling had started not long ago, but now you felt like you were spinning, despite the knowledge that you were stuck in place.

It was a high. Not unlike the good kids high. Except instead of trying to chase a feeling, you were dying.

The timer went off when they were still scouring graves, shovels in hand. Derek stopped in his tracks, but Spencer kept going.

“Wait,” Spencer called out, reading the name on the card next to the fresh grave he was standing at, he moved to start digging. “Essie Dunbar was a thirty-year-old woman who was mistakenly buried alive in 1915,” he said, digging. “This has to be it.”

Derek called Hotch, putting the call on speakerphone so he could help Spencer dig. “Hotch, we got her, but she’s buried.”

“We’re on our way, Omaha police have one of the brothers in custody,” Hotch told Emily to have an ambulance dispatched.

What Reid knew that Derek didn’t was that it could take four hours to dig a grave by hand. The soil had been overturned, so maybe call it three. Your odds were still negligible. He didn’t stop, he didn’t stop when a caretaker came running at them, and he didn’t stop when Derek told him to get his digging equipment out here now.

Derek flashed his FBI badge to get what they needed. He had to physically pull Spencer back from the grave so the backhoe could dig, only going until there was less than a foot between them and the casket.

Spencer crudely attached a chain to the casket and the caretaker's vehicle. Carefully, the caretaker dragged the white container out of the earth and up a slant they had dug. It was locked shut, “Reid, move,” Derek ordered.

He leaned back and Derek fired at the lock, taking it off and opening the casket. Spencer gasped, there was blood on the side of your head, dried and raked through your hair. He was vaguely aware of Hotch and Emily arriving as they pulled you out of your satin prison. You had no pulse, but you were still warm. Immediately, Spencer started CPR.

“Reid let me do it,” Derek insisted.

What he was trying to say is that he shouldn’t have to be the one to try to save your life.

Morgan repeated himself and Spencer pulled away, allowing the other agent to immediately take over. There was a siren in the background, an ambulance. More people showed up, Spencer heard their voices, but he just kept watching you. CPR was effective if it was done shortly after your heart stopped, and even then, permanent brain damage was likely.

It had been eight minutes since they pulled you out of the ground. Clinically, you were dead for eight minutes before you gasped.

Spencer smoothed your hair back, away from your face, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You weren’t moving, and Spencer started running through symptoms of hypoxia. His biggest fear was brain damage, that they had done more harm to you in bringing you back than they would have had you died.

The EMTs came running over to where everyone had gathered, dispersing the crowd, and placing an oxygen mask over your face. As they were loading you on the stretcher, you started trying to talk, reaching your arm out to your side. “Wait, what’s she saying?” JJ asked.

“Sometimes it’s hard to talk after CPR,” the male EMT said as they moved you closer to the ambulance. He listened to what you were saying, “It’s not coherent.”

Spencer didn’t move, all of the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body all day was leaving.

Aphasia. They were saying the lack of oxygen to your brain was causing aphasia. “No,” Emily said, realization dawning on her features as she strained to listen to you. You were whispering, rasping the same word over and over again. “She’s saying ‘Spence.’”

He stood quickly and looked at you, sure enough, you were reaching out your hand and whispering, “Spence, Spence.” Your voice no more than a whisper.

Grabbing your hand, Spencer squeezed it, “I’m here,” he answered. “It’s okay, it’s over,” he told you, moving your hair out of your face. Spencer secured your oxygen mask over your face as you tried to take it off, “You have to keep this on, angel.”

To his relief, you squeezed his hand back.

You had been instructed to get some rest, but you couldn’t close your eyes. You asked Spencer to go back to the hotel and change his clothes because he smelled like dirt, and it made you nauseous. Your head had been bandaged, you’d been run through an MRI, and you did an EEG, so far, the only brain damage that had been incurred seemed temporary.

According to the doctors, the nausea and fatigue should wear off, but they hadn’t been able to fully assess if any permanent damage was done. At this point, the worst of your injuries had been caused by being given CPR, resulting in cracked ribs.

Despite your headache, you kept most of the lights on in your hospital room, not quite ready to be left in the darkness again. “Hey,” a voice called from your doorway, Spencer stood, waiting to be invited in. He was wearing different clothes, a button-up with a green cardigan thrown over it, and clean pants. “How are you feeling?”

A nasal cannula slightly restricted your movement, but you were sat up in the hospital bed, “Better than I was, but not perfect.”

He shook his head, walking in and taking a seat next to you, “No one expects you to be perfect right now.” Gently, he reached out and took your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “They found the mother and the other son, and all three of them are going to go away for a long time,” he told you, speaking in the kind of hushed, reverent tones that are reserved for hospitals.

You sighed and tilted your head back, “Good,” you maundered. “That’s uh, good,” your voice was barely audible.

“So why do you look so worried?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.

In an attempt to dismiss his concern, you joked, “I think I owe Morgan some sort of life debt now.”

Spencer offered you a soft smile, “The two of you tend to trade those off, I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to him.” He inclined his head towards you as if to silently say, So what is it really?

You swallowed thickly, “I’m scared to close my eyes, Spence.”

His shoulders dropped, “oh, Angel,” he breathed. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, looping a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Wait, what are you doing?” He asked, watching you as you lifted yourself, so you were on one side of the bed.

Shyly, you patted the new empty half of the bed, inviting him to sit next to you.

He had no choice but to comply, he had the hardest time saying no to you. Leaning the bed back slightly, Spencer kicked off his shoes before he laid down next to you, wrapping an arm around you as you set your cheek on his shoulder.

Your body relaxed into his and you sighed, “Spence?” You murmured.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “Yes, angel?” He whispered back to you.

“Thanks for coming to save me,” you mumbled, slowly relaxing enough to fall asleep.

Spencer exhaled, “I’m always going to come to save you.”

part two

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #penelope garcia #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid x you #h writes (hypothetically)

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ryukatters · 8 months

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swipe right — k. bakugo x fem! reader

✮ a/n: i remember seeing a post on here a long time ago about a character making a fake tinder profile for their gf and realizing how many people want her. (if someone knows the OG post please lmk so i can link it!) so now i present to you: bakugo falling to his knees in the middle of your apartment bedroom for the exact same reason.

✮ content/warnings: dubcon, quirkless/college! au, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, cum eating, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, biting, bkg gets a little rough with you, and bkg's also a fucking simp but when do I ever write him as being otherwise??

✮ summary: your boyfriend decides to make a fake tinder profile for you just to see how many matches you get. he comes to a realization just how many other people want what’s already his.

✮ word count: 4.2k (i'm so sick)

Bakugo can remember how this all started. In very vivid detail, actually. He remembers because Kaminari had pissed him off so much to the extent that it took him a very substantial amount of effort to refrain from bashing his friend’s face in.

It all started during the last monthly hangout amongst Bakugo and his friends— one day out of the month designated to make sure that they all had time to catch up with one another despite their busy schedules.

Everything was normal, with all of them getting more than enough of their fill of food and alcohol while idly playing video games and talking about random topics to fill in the silence in Kaminari’s living room.

Perfectly normal, until Denki decided to open his stupid mouth, at least.

He goes off on a tangent about a trend he saw on social media where someone makes a fake Tinder profile for their partner to see how many matches they’d get. He proceeds to tell Bakugo that he should try doing it, for “funsies,”— to which Bakugo scoffs at.

“Aren’t you curious, Kacchan?” Kaminari smiles cheekily, wrapping an arm around his blond friend’s shoulders, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Bakugo’s becoming visibly more upset with every passing moment.

“Your girlfriend is really pretty,” Mina chimes in, sticking her tongue out when Katsuki whips his head to glare at her. “I’m still surprised she’s with a grump like you.”

Kaminari butts in, “I bet there’s a whole line of guys around the block just waiting for a chance to get with her. I mean, just look at her! Hell, I’d even let her peg m—”

For a moment, Bakugo swears he wants to bash Kaminari’s face into his flatscreen. And for a moment, he lets that impulsive thought win— getting up and grabbing two fistfuls of Denki’s shirt before promptly getting cut off by Kirishima.

“Alright alright,” Kirishima forcibly pries Bakugo off of the other blond, pushing him off to the side. “That’s enough, you two. Kaminari was just messing around. I’ll admit, it wasn’t a good joke, but no need to hurt the guy, okay Bakugo?”

Kirishima knows that Kaminari wasn’t being that serious, but Kirishima can also admit that what he had to say held some ounce of truth. And Kirishima knows Bakugo well enough to see how your boyfriend tends to be rather skittish and protective with matters concerning you— which is exactly why Eijiro had to stop him before it was too late. He really didn’t feel like preparing for Denki’s funeral or helping hide Katsuki escape from a homicide charge.

And that was that…up until a few minutes ago.

Katsuki’s tried to forget that conversation. But try as he might, his mind betrays him and can’t help but wander back to what Denki said that night.

He trusts you of course, and has complete faith in your relationship. However, he’s curious to a fault, just about perhaps too curious for his own good.

How badly could this end?

As it turns out, this whole scheme seems to be playing out very poorly.

Dozens of photos of you— screenshotted from your social media accounts— fill Katsuki’s screen. He had to choose photos you uploaded yourself, because most of his photos of you were either too…suggestive or too domestic (and he wants to be the only one to see you in those moments).

He swipes through “your” profile one last time before clicking “done” to officially put you on the market. And just like that, Bakugo’s met with the faces of men who are nowhere near your level. He goes through the batch of profiles, scrutinizing each one he comes across. He’s (un)surprisingly selective with the ones he chooses to swipe right on— making sure that they’re at least somewhat conventionally attractive. To his surprise (or dread, rather), his phone pings right away with a notification from someone who swiped back. Another ping. A message.

You free tonight?

Bakugo scoffs. He looks through the guy’s profile— a picture of him at a party with his arms around some girls, another with him doing a victory pose presumably after hiking, and one with him holding a fish. He feels his mouth curl in disgust, about to give into the urge to reply and give this guy a piece of his mind, before he realizes he’s pretending to be you. He takes a deep breath, closes out of the app, and puts down his phone.

He’s starting to regret this.

Bakugo’s phone has gone off 15 times in the last hour. Bakugo has also felt the need to strangle some stranger through the phone 15 times in the last hour. Your (read: his) profile has existed for less than 60 minutes, and you already have a whole address book of nobodies trying to link with you and get a quick fuck.

He feels the familiar beginnings of a headache creeping up the back of his skull. He thinks he might need a drink. Why did he decide to do this again?

In hindsight, he probably should have known this is exactly how it was going to go down.

What was that saying? Curiosity killed the cat?

Yeah.

He was never great at self-preservation in the first place. So this, the feeling of overwhelming jealousy, frustration, possessiveness brewing up a storm threatening to pour out of every single fiber of Bakugo’s being— was no surprise.

He watches as the numbers at the bottom of his screen increase steadily, before tapping on the star icon.

‘99+ likes!’ it reads. Over 99 people who saw your profile and thought you were beautiful. Bakugo pales, and he can feel the cold sweat building on the nape of his neck. He grips his phone, knuckles turning white. Is he shaking from anger or nervousness?

Anger because all these guys think they even have the slightest chance with someone as amazing as you. Nervousness because what if you decide that they do? You wouldn’t actually leave him for one of these guys, right? Right?

None of these men would walk through hell and back for you. They don’t know how you like your coffee, the details of your skin care routine, how you like to binge watch shows and talk Katsuki’s ear off about them (not that he ever minded, of course). They don’t know you, not like he does. Katsuki looks at you like you hung the moon. In fact, he’s pretty convinced that you did. Everything good in his life— the warmth, the color, the joy,— is encompassed by you. He’d be damned if he lets some greasy little nobody take that from him. Because the moment Bakugo fell in love with you, you became a part of him— inextricably and indefinitely. Loving you has become so intrinsic to him, that even the mere thought of another person loving you or looking at you the same way he does has him going insane. Not that anyone could love you like he did, though. That thought brings him some comfort, but not for long.

One last notification he sees sends him spiraling. Bakugo swears that he can see red. That’s when he deletes the app, and throws his poor phone in some random corner of the living room, which is markedly one of the smarter choices he’s made as of late. He marches to your bedroom with a fire burning in his chest.

He stops short of the door and finds you sitting at the edge of your shared bed, fresh out of the shower. You’re applying lotion, and he watches the cream absorb into your skin wordlessly, in awe at how overwhelmingly beautiful you manage to look in the most prosaic of tasks. For a second, he almost forgets the reason he was upset in the first place.

Your hair is still damp, water droplets accumulating at the tips, and Katsuki feels his mouth run dry the minute he watches a stray bead fall and make its way down your neck and stop perfectly in the dip of your collarbone. Your very existence is forever etched into his heart, every inch of you carved into his memory, but even still he can never get tired of looking at you. At every angle, in every lighting, he needs to see you in it. You could call him obsessed, but he’d simply laugh and agree, because what’s so wrong with that? Especially if it’s you.

You’re one to be studied— to be adored, Katsuki thinks, to the greatest capacity. It’s what you deserve. And what better person for that task to fall upon than him?

He finds himself naturally gravitating towards you, his finger tracing the same exact path the water had carved just moments before, wordlessly. You try to pay no mind, but it’s difficult as you realize just how close Bakugo was and how your towel barely manages to cover up your most intimate parts. One wrong move and you’d be exposed. With how things were playing out, and the predatory glint in the blond’s eyes, you don’t think your boyfriend would be too perturbed with your current predicament.

Katsuki presses a delicate kiss to your forehead before he crouches down. Suddenly, you’re at eye level with one another, his hot breath tickling your lips. You think for a moment he’s going to kiss you so you lean forward, lips waiting. But he merely grazes them before he sucks a deep bruise into the juncture of your neck, biting slightly.

You’re barely given any time to react before he’s grabbing the hand that’s securing your towel and ripping it away, the offending garment falling off your body. Your flesh prickles with goosebumps as its exposed to the sudden chill. It’s quickly replaced by the heat of Bakugo’s body as he pushes you lightly, your back hitting the mattress. He crawls on top of you, muscular thighs on either side of your hips, your head placed conveniently between his forearms. He’s trapped you, a nonverbal challenge for you to try and escape.

You’re a work of art, he thinks, but much more valuable than any pièce de résistance framed in any museum.

Beautiful, yes, but far too blank for his liking. He wants to ruin you, make you his own personal magnum opus. And so he does.

He presses a clothed knee against your bare cunt, pressing firmly. His lips continue their assault on your neck, leaving angry purpling bruises in their wake. Rough hands find your breast, and you moan in surprise when he gives both of them a harsh squeeze as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. Katsuki kisses you like a man dying of thirst, hungry for everything you can offer him and more. It’s all too much already, the way he’s kissing you has your mind reeling, and you have to turn your head away for a moment to catch your breath. Katsuki thinks it’s a moment too long without you, so he coaxes you into locking lips with him once more. A wave of mischievousness washes over you, prompting you to take your boyfriend’s lower lip in between your teeth, biting down lightly.

You feel his breath hitch, before he lets out a low groan as he grinds his clothed dick against your bare wetness. He returns the favor, sucking on your bottom lip before letting it go with a wet pop. He pulls back with a lazy smirk, his lips pursing together to scatter messy kisses down the base of your throat and down your chest, alternating between sucking and biting at the flesh.

He gives you a good once-over, scanning every surface, committing them to memory. You feel the need to curl into yourself with how intensely those vermillion eyes are piercing into you, memorizing every single curve, scar, freckle like he’s done time and time again.

He drops down to his knees, broad shoulders bullying their way in between your legs, forcibly prying them open. He grips your hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh, and drags you down the mattress until your legs are dangling off the bed.

“Jesus, Kats, be more gentle.”

“Shhh. I know you like it when I’m not gentle,” he chuckles. As if to prove a point, he pulls you down even further, giving a harsh bite to your inner thigh. He smiles deviously when you yelp. You try to pull at his hair but his reflexes are too quick, pinning both of your wrists down on either side of you easily. “Besides, this is the perfect height for me to eat you out, dontcha think baby?”

You want to chastise him for being so crass, so Katsuki, but the words die on the tip of your tongue the minute he gives a sweet, loving kiss to your clit, sucking lightly.

“You’re mine. I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this except for me.”

You’re not entirely sure what brought this on, but you find it hard to complain when Bakugo drags his tongue from your throbbing clit to inside your pussy, drinking everything you have to offer.

Your hands automatically try to find purchase in his blond locks, struggling against the vice grip Katsuki has on your wrists. He decides to take pity on you, loosening his hold so you can slip your hands into his hair, moaning appreciatively when he feels you tug. He rewards you by flicking his tongue on your clit over and over again, just the way you like it. He does it until your moans begin to pitch higher and higher, the same way that they do when you’re close. He doesn’t stop his ministrations even after you cum, riding out your orgasm until your thighs are shaking from overstimulation. He pulls away from you with a loud pop, taking in the sight before him.

He runs a hand up and down your thigh soothingly. “So fucked out already and we’re barely getting started, baby.”

Your mind is barely processing his words before you feel Katsuki’s erection brush against your stomach, his clothing haphazardly discarded on the floor. He taps the head of his dick against your clit to tease you, a feeling of satisfaction swelling when you cry out from under him.

He watches in fascination as strings of your arousal cling to him. He positions his length at your entrance, locking eyes with you as you hold your breath in anticipation. Katsuki likes you like this. Needy for him.

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, you know that?” He slips into you with a stuttered groan.

Katsuki’s always been big. You never get used to the initial stretch, no matter how many times you two fuck. Still, that doesn’t stop him from sliding in with ease from the slick of your last orgasm. It easily coats his cock as he gives a few experimental thrusts. He groans in rapture. How do you manage to feel so good every time? It’s enough to drive him insane. Perhaps he already is.

“So fucking perfect, no wonder why all those losers want you.” He mutters out the last part, and you’re not sure if you caught that right.

“What?” He chooses not to respond, and you aren’t given the opportunity to think any further before your legs are thrown over his shoulders, Katsuki’s weight effectively pinning you in place. The stretch knocks all the wind out of your lungs, and all you can do is cling to Katsuki, nails leaving red, angry lines on his well-defined back.

He wastes no time before he starts drilling into you, hips slotting in between your legs perfectly. The position has him pressed against your clit, and your entire body feels like it’s been set ablaze, with Katsuki holding both the power to have it burn even brighter and the ability to extinguish it. And you’re almost there, you can feel your soul slowly ascending, your room filled with hymns of pleasure, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter, threatening to unravel along with your sanity. Katsuki can feel it too— the way you’re squeezing him tighter, how your gasps and moans have climbed just a note higher, how absolutely ruined you look, how he’s responsible for your current state. Which is exactly why he wants to push it even further, he wants to see how much you’ll break for him— and only him.

Katsuki cuts you off right before you can reach your peak, pulling out but making sure just his tip is inserted. You come to and take a look at your lover and marvel at the sight. He has a crazed look in his eyes. The way he smirks is absolutely wicked.

You feel distraught— having been so close but having it ripped away from you. You give your boyfriend a petulant pout.

“Katsuki,” you whine, slapping a hand against his sweaty chest, “Why’d you stop? I was so close!”

“Because I didn’t want you to cum yet,” he says simply. “You’ll be good for me, yeah? I’ll give my baby what she deserves, as long as she’s good.”

You roll your eyes, huffing. That won’t do for him.

As much as he loves seeing you indulge, he feels a need to punish you— at least a little bit to even begin to atone for being the wicked temptress you are.

“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” Bakugo growls, gripping your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks, causing your lips to purse slightly. “I said be good, okay? Wanna take my time with you.”

There’s a moment of respite, until you sigh in defeat, knowing better than to argue with him lest you wanted to dig your own grave. “‘Kay, ‘ki.”

He flashes you a smile. Obedient, just how he likes you. “Good girl.”

Katsuki draws his hips back, thrusting just enough to fuck his tip into you. He’s teasing. The amount of willpower on his end it takes not to cum is nauseating.

“You’re so pretty, aren’t you?” he rasps, one hand finding their way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. Your hands reflexively grab his wrist.

All you can manage is a fucked out moan. Katsuki has to resist the urge to coo, about how he’s managed to turn you into a cockdrunk mess in such a short matter of time. The wave of possessiveness that’s been gnawing at the depths of his soul begins to seep out, and he’s reminded of the reason why the two of you are in this position in the first place.

He gives your throat another squeeze and a rough slap to your clit. “C’mon princess, answer me. Say it.” He slowly adds more and more pressure until your ears grow hot and air feels like a precious commodity.

“I-i’m pretty,” you manage to gasp out, tears spilling from your lash line as you begin to lose yourself between the space of pleasure and pain.

Good. Always so pliant for him.

“That’s right, baby,” he concedes. “So fuckin’ beautiful.” He punctuates the last word with a deep thrust, right against that spongy spot that feels so good. You’re so sensitive that it’s enough to send you spiraling into your second orgasm, walls spasming around him uncontrollably.

Katsuki stills, staving off his own release with all the restraint he can summon. He silently thanks whatever divine forces are out there that he didn’t cum the minute he felt the first clench of your orgasm.

He grits his teeth as he wills himself to move, trying not to get lost in the wetness that envelops him. You’re babbling now, senseless moans filling Katsuki’s ears like a sweet melody.

“Kats, please, I’m too sensitive—” You’re shaking now, muscles trembling with every thrust.

“But I’m not done with you yet,” he says simply, drawing his hips back with a particularly rough thrust. You choke back whatever you were going to say with a loud cry. “What’s your color, baby?”

You take a moment to answer, brain trying to comprehend the words just uttered to you. You look at Katsuki firmly, “Green.”

“Atta girl,” he praises, the drive of his hips beginning to shallow. He’s close, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out. But for you, he tries. “You’re mine, right?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, shivering as goosebumps dance across your skin.

“Say it,” Katsuki pleads, thrusts growing sloppy by the second. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m all yours, ‘ki.”

With that, Katsuki’s fate is sealed. He’s left groaning as a flash of pleasure shakes his very soul, filling you up with so much cum that it dribbles onto the mattress even while he’s still inside you. You follow suit, an embarrassingly obscene rhythm of squelching noises fill the silence as you spasm around his dick. He collapses on top of you, but he’s still coherent enough to not dump all his weight on you.

Your labored breaths fill the room as the two of you come to. Katsuki pulls out of you with a wince, still a bit sensitive. He gives you a peck on the lips before he drags himself down, settling in between your legs much like he was earlier.

You tense up, “Kats, wait—”

Any and all protests cease the moment Bakugo works his tongue inside of you, slurping lewdly as he drags out the mixture of your cum and his, swallowing. He tries not to stimulate your puffy clit in an attempt to be merciful, but you still feel yourself steadily climbing to what would be your fourth orgasm this session. While the past three have been intense and drowning, this one comes to you in waves, dull pleasure invading your senses as Katsuki continues to eat you out to clean you up.

He pulls away when you finish, your slick and his saliva coating his chin before he wipes it off on the back of his hand. You stare at his half-hard erection with a half concerned, half quizzical look. “Do you…” you lick your lips, “need help with that? I’m a little sensitive down there but I could use my mout—”

“Nah, I’m good babe,” he says earnestly, flashing you a smile that he only ever shows around you. “I’ll be back.” With that, your boyfriend leaves the room only to come back with a bottle of water.

“Drink.” You comply, finishing half the bottle graciously before handing it to him. He downs the rest before he settles next to you on the bed, laying on his side. You mirror him, shifting your body so that you’re both facing each other.

Katsuki reaches out, finger idly tracing random shapes and lines onto the bare skin on your hip. He has a pensive look on his face, one that he usually doesn’t hold after stolen moments like this; it’s an expression he wears when he’s in deep thought.

“Baby,” you call out. His eyes snap to yours, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah?”

“Whatcha thinking about?” You watch as a hesitant look flashes across your boyfriend’s face before he shakes his head.

“S’nothin’. Just thinkin’ about us two.” He speaks lightly. It’s always been difficult for him to voice his inner thoughts and feelings, so he tends to beat around the bush. You’ve learned that if you ever want something out of him, you’d have to pry a little. Katsuki always indulges you though.

“What about us?”

“Do you- do you think you’ll ever get tired of this?” He repeats himself, clearing his throat. The question is followed by a weaker, “...of me?”

You think it’s the most ridiculous question he’s ever asked, because the answer should be obvious. “I’d never get tired of you, Katsuki. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he replies automatically, “but if I ever do anything that upsets you, or if I get too much for you, or if I—” he’s rambling now. Yes, it’s difficult for Katsuki to talk about his feelings, but once you manage to get him to open up, all the walls of his self-made fortress come crashing down and it’s up to you to pick up the pieces.

“Baby,” you giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips, cupping his sharp jaw with one hand. “Look at me.” And he does— ruby eyes meeting yours. “I love you because you’re you. And I choose to be with you everyday. It’s not always gonna be perfect, no relationship is. But I know that I will always wake up and choose you.”

You can see the anxiety melt away from Katsuki’s body, shoulders slumping as he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Love you too, sap,” is all he says before he’s pulling you against his chest, squeezing you into a bearhug. You two stay that way until both of you are lulled to sleep.

You’re laying in bed with Katsuki, both of you dozing off when you hear a slight buzz from your phone on the nightstand. You squint as you try to read the notification, and make out that it’s from your friend.

Denki Kaminari: So did it work?

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing, giving a quick glance over your shoulder to check on your boyfriend— fast asleep. You turn back to your phone, your thumbs making quick work at your keyboard.

You: Just like I said it would. Thanks Denki :)

Writing belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not share my work on Tiktok.

#bakugo x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugo x y/n #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #kat's writing #kat's demon time #tw.dubcon #cw.dubcon #tw.overstimulation #cw.overstimulation

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doomed-to-wanda · 1 month

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thinking about the bad kids slowly dying off, one by one.

thinking about them carrying the ashes of their fallen to the next funeral, and the next, till its adaine sitting on a pew alone with all her friends ashes, sobbing, realizing she is alone, she will be alone, that they're never coming back.

thinking about adaine, numb after the years, with tokens of her friends in her pockets.

kristen's hair ties: sometimes adaine washes her hair with shampoo that smells like she did, puts on her old tye-dyed t-shirts.

riz' necktie, it's threads coming unraveled at the worn edges. it used to smell like his cologne.

gorgug's playlists still comfort her, the uncompromising, screaming, yet somehow gorgeous music blasting. it drowns out all the years spent without him, takes her right back to the day they went to basrar's for the first time.

fig's guitar sits in her room. adaine tries to learn how to play, hears the echo of figs laugh through the strings. she takes up smoking cloves.

fabian left adaine all his gold jewelry, and she keeps a strip of his old battle sheet in her pocket. the elves in kai lumenera welcome her with open arms every few decades, the trees swaying with the memory of fabian's dancing, his lilting voice still carried in the wind.

"the bad kids," and yet, everything they had was so good: still, all lovely things must come to an end.

before adaine lays down for the last time, she pulls on an old IDK tee, now-long hair tied up just how kristen used to. it doesn't match, but she still ties riz' gregorian necktie, just slightly too tight. she's rusty, now— riz had her tie his tie once, but that was so long ago now. she puts in earrings, clasps a necklace, decorates her long, elven fingers with sparkling diamond rings. she plays an old, old song on bass. it's harsh, unforgiving metal, but beautiful and melodic to her ears.

thinking about their inherent tragedy.

aelwyn takes everyone else's ashes to the last funeral.

#angel.txt #the bad kids #adaine abernant #kristen applebees #riz gukgak #fabian seacaster #fig faeth #gorgug thistlespring #writing #fantasy high #dimension 20 #d20

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hs-is-loml · 6 months

Text

You Know This. (cl16)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x best friend!Reader

Summary: moments of charles and reader throughout the years that show they are so obviously meant for each other so carlos gives them a small push. (they are basically together but without the title...)

Warnings: mentions of Jules and Hervé so little angst but the majority is fluff! one kiss? lando swears. cute couple moments of two idiots UNEDITED

a/n: almost forgot how to write compared to the social media AUs i've been doing... hope you enjoy :)

all translations of french below

Chérie = darling

masterlist

19 years old

You stared out the window overlooking the streets of Baku until you heard a sigh from across the room.

“I’m so tired. Is it even worth going through this weekend?” Charles admitted as you looked over to him running his hands over his face while he took a seat on the edge of the hotel bed. “I don’t know if I’ll make it through.”

“No one will blame you if you don’t,” you said walking over to stand in front of him.

“That’s what they all expect isn’t it?”

“You’re doing more than enough just being here,” you brought your hands to his face and gently rubbed your thumb along his jaw.

“I miss him, Y/n. How am I supposed to continue without him?” he whispered while he wrapped his arms around your frame and pulled you closer to lean his head against your stomach.

You could tell that he had finally reached a breaking point from holding out on his own emotions as he helped everyone in the family with theirs. You knew that he was staying strong for Pascale and Arthur while Lorenzo was handling everything for Hervé’s funeral. When he asked you to accompany him for this race, you said yes without any doubts crossing your mind.

You soon feel his shoulders shake as he lets out soft sobs. “You continue for him. Just like you have done for Jules, they’re going to watch your legacy grow together. One day you’ll be driving in that red car placing poles and winning races. You will make it through this,” you played with the hair at the nape of his neck as you reassured him.

You were aware that he had told Hervé a few weeks ago that he had signed with Ferrari already. In the past few years, it had always been the goal. Everyone understood how crucial it was for him to make that come true.

“You can’t be sure of that.”

“I know, but I believe in you. We all do. It’s only a matter of time.”

“What would I do without you?” he lifted up his head to look at you.

“Well, it’s a good thing I never plan on leaving you,” you leaned down to press a gentle kiss on the crown of his head.

"I'll never let you go."

20 years old

You were talking with Andrea and Lorenzo near the Alfa Romeo motorhome while you all waited for Charles to finish with media day. “How do you think he’s doing with the news?” you anxiously looked around in the hope of seeing him heading your way. “The media has gone wild when the contact got out that he signed with Ferrari.”

“Probably basking in the attention,” Lorenzo laughed. “You know how long he’s waited for this.”

“That boy never fails to catch the camera either,” Andrea added while you covered your mouth with your hand trying to stifle your laugh when you realized that Charles was finally done for the day.

Charles came to your side snaking an arm around your waist and teasingly poked you, “What are you three laughing about you?”

“You,” all of you replied, causing him to gasp in fake annoyance.

“I know ma chérie would never do such a thing,” he shook his head at the two men. “Enzo, look how bad of an influence you are.” Which was Andrea’s queue to quietly leave before he was targeted by the young driver too. He took Lorenzo along with him as the older brother gaped at the accusation.

You both started to head to his driver’s room to gather his things before driving back to the hotel. “How was it?” you asked him while you took out his phone from your purse.

“A lot. It feels like it’s never ending and everyone keeps congratulating,” he smiled and reached out for the phone.

“I’ve only heard of all the good things so far,” you tell him and hand the phone back to him.

You had begun to look for your jacket, and it was almost as if he had read your mind, “It’s right here, I’ve got it.”

As you two walked out of the paddock, there were still crowds of fans and photographers lingering around the area hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the drivers. People started to whisper and squeal when they saw Charles place his hat on your head allowing you to shield your face from the now flashing cameras.

“Who is she?”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!”

“They must be dating.”

“Charles! Over here!”

“Can you sign this for me please!”

You listened to all the hollers from the crowd as you got into the car, “Wow.”

“You okay?” Charles softly asked and glanced at you before starting to drive back to the hotel.

“Were they always like that while you were in F2 and I’ve never noticed?” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“I’m not sure,” he chuckled at your reaction.

21 years old

“He has one more corner!” you held onto Andrea’s arm anxiously looking at the screen.

“MERCEDES THREW EVERYTHING AT HIM TODAY… CHARLES LECLERC HAS COPED BRILLIANTLY!” you heard from the speakers.

“HE’S GOT IT!” one of the crew members screamed when they saw Charles shoot down to the line.

“HE WINS IN SPA, HE WINS IN MONZA! CHARLES LECLERC IS THE WINNER OF THE 2019 ITALIAN GRAND PRIX!” David Croft announced as Charles crossed the finish line. He had just won in Monza in front of the infamous Tifosi.

You felt yourself get pushed to the front of the barrier as people started rushing to see the winner. The momentous scene couldn’t have been better. He had just ended the nine-year winless streak in Monza and scored his second consecutive race win. All you could hear in the hectic moment was the Ferrari crew chanting out in Italian for Charles. The crowds of fans roared out in cheers and the stands filled with raised Ferrari and Italian flags.

You will never forget the moment he jumped down from on top of his car and made his way over to you. His hands found your sides as you held the sides of his helmet. “You did it,” your smile wide and eyes filled with tears as you focused on him.

“For them,” he told you tenderly.

“For them,” you repeated and placed a kiss right where you thought the corner of his mouth would have been. The crew reached over to congratulate him, and the cameras were pointed directly at him wanting to capture the moment.

The podium ceremony was scintillating. The crew, media, and Tifosi all packed in to see their winner. Andrea knew to keep you close to the front knowing that Charles would want to see you more than anyone else. It wasn’t only you looking up at him in admiration though it seemed like the world stopped for a moment when he blew a kiss back down to you from the podium.

Your cheeks flushed from the action and beamed as you met his eyes, “I love you,” you mouthed to him hoping he could read your lips from the stand.

“I love you,” he replied back.

22 years old

With COVID delaying the F1 season and everyone having to quarantine. You and Charles had decided to move in together into his apartment to keep each other company. It wasn’t hard to fall into a routine for you two.

“Y/n! Can you bring me water please?” you heard a yell from Charles’ gaming room.

You got up from the couch and set aside your book heading into the kitchen. Decided to bring him a small pack of crackers as well along with the water since he had been on stream for a while. You brought the plate to him which he thanked you for and gave your hand three small squeezes.

The simple interaction caused the chat to make tons of new comments flow through regarding you. Over the past few years, you found yourself more comfortable with your life in front of the camera because of his career, and it makes you look back to the times of Charles’ first year in F1. You could now give a small wave to the camera before you planned to head back out to the door.

“That’s not fair,” you heard Lando complain from the screen, causing you to halt in your footsteps to listen closely. “You have Y/n to bring you stuff, and you don’t even need to stop the game.”

“Lando’s just jealous he doesn’t have anybody,” George snickered.

“Damn right, I am,” Lando huffed out. “I want a Y/n.”

Charles noticed you silently laughing and he motioned for you to come back over wanting to tease Lando a bit more. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in closer to be in the frame, “Too bad there’s only one of her.”

Lando started muttering about how it was not his fault that he was alone during these times all while you shook your head at their antics. Alex and George continued the jokes creating a newfound argument that moved the topic away from you and Charles. “What do you want for dinner?” you questioned him softly not wanting to disrupt the chaotic banter from the others.

“Will you make carbonara?”

“DID YOU HEAR THAT??” Lando pointed to the screen baffled. “SHE EVEN COOKS DINNER FOR HIM! WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN? Y/N, WILL YOU COOK FOR ME NEXT TIME?”

“Sure, Lando. Once quarantine ends we can plan something out,” you replied with a sweet smile towards the camera.

“YES!” he cheered out at your response.

“Once we get back to racing, will you bring your cookies again?” George asked excitedly.

“Or the muffins!” Alex added on.

“I’ll go and bring them if you bring Lily, Alex!” you answered them.

24 years old

You told Charles earlier in the week telling him that you couldn’t make it to the Bahrain Grand Prix due to work. Really you just wanted to surprise him, and you had been in contact with Carlos planning it out.

“I think he is getting suspicious of me,” Carlos told you over the phone as you got your bags together waiting for Carlos’ cousin to come and get you from the airport.

“Well, I’ve only sent him short messages for the past few days and maybe ignored a couple of his calls because I can’t keep lying to him…” you explained which caused the man on the other side of the phone to snicker at your dispense.

“I swear you want him to kill me, Y/n. Once he finds out.”

“Find out what? Who are you talking to all the time, mate?” you listened to Charles continuously question Carlos.

"No one!" Carlos quipped.

"Is that Y/n?" Charles asked him.

"No, it's my sister..."

“Good luck!” you hung up the call quickly and got into the car with Carlos Oñoro.

“Charles found out?” he started heading to the hotel that the Ferrari team was staying at.

“Hopefully not yet, but Carlos was talking about how he’s on to him already.”

A notification went off on your phone and you saw it was a text message from Carlos.

You opened your messages with Charles and came up with something quick to text him about.

at the circuit

“Hermosa! You made it!” Carlos exclaimed when he saw you walking towards the group of the drivers that just got out of the media pen. "I swear he was going to choke me earlier."

You laughed at his remark and went over to his side to whisper to him, “He doesn’t know I’m here yet, right?”

He tugged you a bit closer and kept his hand on your upper back. He spoke into your ear in a hushed tone while carefully looking around, “Not a clue, but you remember what I said over text? You say he’s not your boyfriend yet, so let’s mess with him just a little. It’ll prove something to you.”

“Prove what-”

You were cut off by Lando as he finally took notice of your presence, “Y/n! Tell me you brought them!”

“Yes, Lando,” you smiled, taking a small packaged bag of cookies out of your bag before you could even hand them to him. He had snatched it and already begun opening the bag. “Yours are back at the hotel,” you told Carlos who was trying to take one from Lando.

“GIVE ME ONE!” George yelled at Lando who took his chance and ran off with his cookies.

“NO!” causing George to chase after the Mclaren driver.

Another group of drivers came over as they had just finished with their interviews. You saw Charles talking with Sebastian but he didn’t see you yet. “Sweetheart! A pleasant surprise, Charles was just talking about how you couldn’t make it,” Sebastian said with a smile as he walked past you with Fernando.

“Hello, Sebastian,” you smiled back and felt a breath near your ear.

“How long do you think it will take him to drag you away?” Carlos said in a low voice.

“He wouldn’t,” you mutter back.

“Oh, yes he would. Good luck with him,” Carlos grinned as Charles had stormed over to you two and grabbed a hold of your wrist.

“Charlie!” you yelped as you tried to keep up with his pace towards the Ferrari’s motorhome and into his driver’s room.

He shut the door behind him, “So you can text Carlos but not me?”

"What are you talking about?" you acted confused."

"I know you were on call with Carlos earlier. But you couldn't even answer mine this morning?"

“It was supposed to be a surprise, Charles,” you huffed out.

“What a surprise that you and Carlos are together now?” he scoffed at the mere thought.

You began to laugh aloud which caused him to frustrate even further, “E-ex-cuse me?” you said through your laughter.

“This is not funny, Y/n.”

“Charles, it’s funny you think that I would even do anything with Carlos in the first place,” you pointed out to him while setting your bag down on a chair.

You heard his footsteps come closer to you until you felt him press against your back, “Are you not?”

You turned around to face him and took his face in your hands, “Of course not.”

“Good,” he placed his hands on your waist rubbing up and down your sides.

“And why is that?” you raised your eyebrow at him.

“Y-you kno-o-ow b-b-because you’r-re…” he trailed off a stuttering mess caught off guard by your question.

You stroke his jaw with your thumbs and brought his face closer to yours, “Charles, I’m yours. You know this.”

He leaned down and closed the gap between your lips in a long-awaited kiss. He kissed you gently as if he were testing the waters. You smiled against his lips and moved to wrap your arms around his neck as his hands moved to your hips. You moved forward slightly to lean more into him and he let out a groan against your mouth. He stilled in the kiss, keeping your hips in place from moving further.

“No more surprises, okay?" he said as you separated.

"Okay, but no more jumping to conclusions either."

"You are going to give me gray hairs early, Chérie," he exasperated.

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strawchocoberry · 7 months

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TRYNA FUCK ME I’M LIKE OKAY

anonymous requested: threesome with zhongli and neuvillette

୨୧ featuring: zhongli + neuvillette x fem reader

ଘ cw: lore spoilers || smut, threesome, dragon sex (double cocks, horns and tail for each one), spanking, edging, oral sex (m receiving), nipple play, choking, praise kink, rough sex, double penetration, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, creampie, dumbification

୨୧ synopsis: ever been fucked by a dragon or two?

ଘ wc: 2.2k

It was one of those rare occasions that Zhongli had some time off from his work at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour. Word of Tartaglia’s arrest in Fontaine had reached his ears, so he decided to make a trip to the land of the Hydro Archon and find a bit more about the predicament his close friend had found himself in. This was also a chance for him to catch up with an acquaintance of his, who was none other than the Chief Justice himself, Monsieur Neuvillette, a fellow elemental dragon.

“According to reports from the Fortress of Meropide, Childe recently disappeared under mysterious circumstances,” Neuvillette informed Zhongli, as you poured hot tea in their cups. “But we are currently investigating the matter. I reckon it won’t be long before we have news of the matter.”

“Knowing him, he should be fine,” Zhongli said with a small smile. “I can’t wait to hear the details the next time we go drinking.” He took a sip of his tea. “Feel free to join us, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

“If time permits, perhaps I shall.”

The two carried on with their conversation, while you were simply sitting on an armchair, not quite paying attention. When you brought the tea along with the snacks for your boss’ guest, you weren’t quite expecting for Zhongli to invite you to join them. Neuvillette thought that you could take a break from work, so ultimately you accepted the invitation. Not to mention that the sweets you had brought were from the special section of snacks that Monsieur Neuvillette and Lady Furina use to treat their guests. In other words, they’re delicacies of the highest quality that one doesn’t taste every day.

You were so immersed in savouring the confections that you didn’t notice the way the two of them were looking at you. Eyes glued to your face that shined brightly with each bite you took, pure bliss lighting up your features and bringing a smile to your lips. They both choked back small giggles at your more adorable side. Both put a loose fist to their mouths as they cleared their throats, in an attempt to somehow contain themselves. The sound caught your attention and you turned to look at them.

Fuck, both of them thought. You took a few seconds to look at Neuvillette, then at Zhongli, then back at Neuvillette and back to Zhongli again. You could see how they were suddenly more tense, sitting stiffly in their seats, a slight annoyance hinting on their faces. Yet neither addressed the situation. You weren’t paying attention to them and now the thought of them being angered by your negligence was stuck on your mind.

Neuvillette was the first to move. Standing up, he took two steps before finding himself in front of you. You gulped hard, watching him look down at you for only a second, before leaning closer. “Pardon me,” he said softly. Your body was paralysed as he cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping away the frosting of the cake that was sitting comfortably in the corner of your lips a moment ago.

You were shocked by yourself, when you opened your mouth and sucked on his thumb. Your eyes were locked with his. And for the faintest moment you swear you saw Neuvillette suppressing a groan at your sight. In a moment, he grabbed your chin and forced his lips on yours, hungrily kissing you. He was urgent, his one hand wrapping around your waist and pulling you up on your feet, slamming your body against his. Breaking the kiss, you noticed his dusty rose cheeks, his heavy breathing and the way for the first time he stumbled upon his words.

“I-I… I apologise… That… I…”

Neuvillette was flustered, even his ears had turned red. And you found it cute. He was still holding you in place, your body flushed all over his. You felt something poking you and looked down, only for your eyes to widen at the sight of his hardened cock, restrained by his tight pants.

“Do you need help with this?” you asked.

“No, I… It’s fine,” he forced the words out of his mouth.

“Please excuse us both, young lady,” Zhongli’s voice echoed from behind you. You turned to look at him, seeing him locking the door to the Chief Justice’s office, before walking slowly towards the two of you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, his body glued to yours, his own hardened erection startling you. “You see, for us dragons it is now mating season. And it is… Impossible for us to maintain our composure.”

In mere seconds, your clothes were ripped apart, scattered pieces of fabric falling to the floor. They had both tried their best to keep a clear mind, yet their natural dragon instincts had now taken over them completely. Strands of their hair were glowing, their hands clawed at your body, their lips kissing you all over desperately as if they were suffocating and you were a sweet breeze of wind that brought them back to life.

You were pushed to the ground, kneeling before them. Your eyes were following their every move as they rid themselves of their clothes in a hurry. Their dragon characteristics were slowly coming forth; horns popping up through their soft hair, tails aggressively moving behind their backs. Zhongli’s arms were black with gold accents. But oh fuck— You were stunned, shocked to your very core, looking at the pairs of cocks in front of you. Neuvillette’s were longer, yet thinner, while Zhongli’s were slightly smaller, yet thicker.

They needn't have asked for your attention to their predicament. You crawled to them, caressing and kissing their thighs as you straightened your back, looking up at them. And neither of them needed to ask you to know how much turned on you were. Using both hands, you stroked one cock from each, seeing how your touch immediately had the two dragons gulping hard. They used their own hands to attend to their other cocks, matching your own pace and losing themselves in the pleasure.

Their tails rubbed your nipples, drawing out a few moans from your lips that accompanied perfectly their own moans that could not be restrained. Zhongli’s tail found its way around your throat, slightly choking you, making him smirk at your low moan. Neuvillette’s tail travelled down your body, caressing your bare skin, before rubbing your wet folds. Your body jolted in surprise, your grip unconsciously tightening around their cocks, causing them both to hiss. You whimpered, looking at them with pleading eyes, moaning “too much”. And the two dragons could only smirk at your pathetic state, feeling proud to have made you so needy without properly touching you.

They forced you on your feet and your body collapsed on Neuvillette’s, who captured your lips in an instant. His hands cupped your cheeks gently, as he pulled you with him towards the couch. He lay down with you between his legs, using both hands to stroke his cocks. “Suck them,” he ordered. A shiver ran down your spine at his authoritative voice. His dragon rut had made him desperate to fuck you, more dominant and aggressive. You licked his one cock, while continuing to stroke the other, before taking it into your mouth. You changed between the two of them, to the point of unwillingly edging him.

“Ass up,” Zhongli demanded, landing a hard slap on your ass. Still sucking on Neuvillette’s cock, you obeyed his order, lifting your ass up. Zhongli was standing in-between your legs, his erections urging him to take action. He rubbed both his cocks on your glistening folds, earning a few moans from you, muffled by your gagging on Neuvillette’s cock. Zhongli slowly pushed one cock inside, his thickness bringing tears to your eyes. He knew that you weren’t properly loosened, yet he could barely hold himself from pounding into you.

He remained still for a few moments, having you slowly adjust to his thick shaft, before he grabbed your waist and started thrusting. He was slow and gentle at first, but only for mere minutes, before his thrusts became more forceful. Neuvillette sat up on the couch, his hands holding gently your head, as he thrusted up his cock in your mouth, your gagging echoing in the room, along with Zhongli slamming your hips on his.

Neuvillette was close, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you down, as he came into your mouth a moment later. He allowed you a minute to regain your lost breath, before sliding his other cock into your mouth, thrusting viciously and cumming as hard as a minute prior, his head falling back and his lips parting to moan your name. He grabbed your chin and brought your face closer to his, grinning at your tear-stained cheeks, before kissing you.

You screamed in the kiss, feeling Zhongli pushing his second cock into your cunt as well. You attempted to push him back, the stretch causing new tears to fall from your eyes. Neuvillette snatched your arms, holding them tightly behind your back with one hand. Zhongli slapped your pussy, mumbling “So fucking good… Fuck… This… This pussy feels so good…” His fingers rubbed your clit, your moans filling their ears. Neuvillette buried himself in your titties, kissing and biting you all over, marking his territory.

The air was forced out of your lungs, as Zhongli thrusted one last time into your cunt, before he came, filling you up with his hot cum. Pulling back, half of his cum dripped down your thighs, the sight making him horny all over again. He kissed your neck, your jaw, your cheek, ultimately your lips, his hand rubbing your clit, feasting on your moans and whimpers and “please please please more”.

Neuvillette lay back down on the couch, pulling you to sit on top of him. He aligned both of his cocks with your now loosened hole, before slowly pushing you down on him. He allowed you to move on your own, taking your time to ride him however you liked, holding your waist to support you. Zhongli was standing above his head, his cocks being on your level, ready to feel your lips tending to them. And as you were busy, sucking him off and riding the Hydro Dragon, his tail started teasing your nipples, drawing out whiny moans full of mock complaints.

Neuvillette’s tail found its way into smacking your ass like a whip, painting it red and making your body tremble and clench around him. But he as well was becoming impatient with his orgasm, as he seized control from you and started slamming you down his cocks, relishing your tears and muffled cries. The two of them reached their limits simultaneously, filling both your pussy and mouth with their seeds.

You were a cute little mess and the dragons couldn’t help themselves but want to fuck you more. Zhongli turned you around, as you were still sitting on Neuvillette, kissing your lips, while the latter cupped your breasts, pinching your hardened nipples and slapping them. By now, your mind was already too fucked out, too dumb to process the situation. Yet your body kept craving for more of their touch. The need to orgasm was strong, since they had edged you multiple times already, always fucking you to the edge, yet never crossing it.

“Oh my— Fuck—” you cried.

Neuvillette and Zhongli thrusted into your sensitive cunt together, their difference in size and thickness driving you insane. You were clinging onto Zhongli’s body, as Neuvillette kept you steady by holding your waist. Zhongli placed a hand over your stomach, pressing down the exact spot his tip was poking in you, having you throw your head back and cursing his name in ecstasy. They were both amazed to say the least seeing how you managed to accommodate them both.

“Such a good girl…” Neuvillette murmured on your shoulder, drunk on your intoxicating scent and your sweet moans. “Taking us both so well…”

“Please please please I wanna cum I wanna cum,” you repeated, whining and crying, over and over again, hoping that they might take some pity on you and give you the orgasm you desired.

Glowing eyes taking in all your expressions, tails caressing and spanking every part of your body, strong arms keeping you in place, two pairs of lips kissing and biting you all over to mark you, two cocks ravaging your pussy and finally granting you your deepest desire. Your whole body was shuddering, as your impending orgasm flooded you like a tidal wave.

You felt Neuvillette shifting underneath you. He lifted you in his arms as he stood up, your arms wrapping around his neck, your fingers running through his long white hair. Zhongli helped him hold you up, before the two aligned themselves with your dripping hole again. You had just cummed, yet, despite them having cummed a couple times already, they were greedy about cumming one last time. And right now, you were nothing but their good girl that would take everything she was given and thank them afterwards.

#୨୧｡˚₊♡꒰ strawchocoberry ꒱♡₊˚｡୨୧ #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli smut #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut

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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months

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Ghost king danny goes on a reincarnation vacation to the dc universe by ClockWork, he ends up as a mortician/coroner and chats up the dead and is super creepy and has to go to Arkham to claim a body there (idk how-) and ends up freaking out the prisoners but also makes some friends and is just all around having a good time and Batman is concerned why this guy just feels weird and why Jason likes him enough to call him a friend

"This is Daniel Fenton." Bruce starts clicking the button on his wrist computer so an image of a young man in his early twenties appears on the hologram. "He is the mortician working at Gotham Funeral Home and Crematorium. Recently, he has been the talk of the underworld for his actions in Arkham."

"Actions?" Tim asks, reading over the files that Bruce had downloaded into their own wrist computers. He pauses at the old-school photo of Daniel Fenton smiling shyly at the camera. Two rows below him is Jason's equally bashful smile when he was fourteen.

Huh.

"A patient was found dead in her room. Daniel went over to claim the body, but while there, he made a few of the inmates uncomfortable." Bruce pulls up a security camera footage of Fenton strolling down the hall, pushing the cart with the body covered by a white sheet.

The way his lips are shaped tells the Bats he whistles even if there is no sound.

It looks normal- even if he seems just a tad too cheerful for picking up a dead person- until he passes by Two-Face's room. The man flipped his quarter and then started shouting at Fenton.

They couldn't make out his words, but whatever the mortician said had Two-face laughing so hard he fell to the ground.

Then, the camera glitched as if there were some kind of interference. They watched it clear up with Fenton walking away and Two-Face sitting on the ground, staring at a wall with a blank expression.

"What happened?" Dick asks.

"It's unclear what Fenton did to him, but Harvey has been unresponsive since. This was three days ago."

"Shit," Steph swears, which pretty much sums up everyone's thoughts.

"Yeah, Danny has that effect on people," Jason speaks up, shrugging his shoulder at the looks he receives. "What? Danny has always been weird, but I doubt he is dangerous."

"You are acquainted with Fenton?" Damian asks, and Jason shrugs again.

"We were in the same graduating class. I spoke to him more after I died and came back, but I wouldn't meet up with him for a drink or anything."

"You don't drink."

"Exactly, Timbos."

Bruce clears his throat. "In any case, I want you all to keep an eye on him."

"B, seriously, the guy is harmless. He cried the other day over a book character's death-"

"How would you know that?" Cass cuts Jason off, a teasing smile on her face even though her eyes are narrowed with suspicion.

"We're in the same book club. Not another word." Jason grunts.

Dick, who has been staring at the class photo that Tim has seen, snaps his figures. "I know him! He's the weird kid who told people he was the reincarnation of the Ghost King on vacation! Claimed he was a powerful afterlife entity. Didn't you get caught with him behind the bleachers, Jason-"

"Shut it Dickface!" Jason screeches face a bright red suddenly. " That was one time, and I was fourteen!"

Bruce's frown is suddenly more profound. "I had forgotten about that particular detention. Jason, are you compromised for this mission?"

"What!? I am not!" The second oldest yelled, balling his hands "In fact, I bet I could get Danny to tell me what he did!"

"Good. Go get that done." Dick waves his hand at him in a dismissive motion. "Don't come back without the little crazy mortician's number."

Tim smiles as Jason explodes, but his eyes never leave Heavy Dent's image on the security camera. There is something about the way his eyes are hazy that set bells off in his head.

He is sure he sees flashes of green on Dent's pupils. He saw similar flashes in a file inside the League of Assassins while searching for Bruce.

It was the warning of ghosts.

Was Fenton's teenage lies not so fatuous after all? He'll have to investigate.

Master Post Link

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #The Ghost King's Fibs #Basically Danny is on vacy as a reincarnation #and told EVERYONE about it but no one believed him #Jason did in fact get caught kissing Danny behind the blechers #Dead on Main #Tim's sharp mind seeing the dots that others need to connect #Is Danny dangerous?#Who knows?

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vivwritesfics · 1 month

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Bleeding From The Storm

Chapter One - Death

After the death of his son, the head of the Dupont family wants his daughter protected. He moved her to Monaco, the safe zone, and has her protected by Charles Leclerc. Max Verstappen was never supposed to meet her. He didn't even know who she was. But he knew she was beautiful, and he knew he wanted to know more, much to the horror of Charles Leclerc.

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10 Years Ago:

When you're a part of a crime family, death is all one usually thinks about. Every time they're sent out on a job, the members of these crime families think about the ways in which the job could kill them. Even when they're not working, they're thinking about all the ways they might die and what their family would be left with.

They expect to be kidnapped and killed, beaten to death, shot and stabbed by a member of a rival family.

Never murdered on neutral grounds.

He was in the safe zone. You're not supposed to die in the safe zone. He wasn't even doing any work, living on his father's yacht in a spell of twenty-four year old rebellion.

His sister had been in contact with him will be at been on the yacht in Monaco. When she one day stopped getting messages back from him, she knew that something was wrong.

His dead body was only discovered because of her. Because she ran to Charles, who wasn't that much older than her, and begged him to help her search through the yacht.

Charles had been the one to find the body. He'd held her back, stopping her from running in and seeing the bloodied mess on the bed. He was barely recognisable, the only indicator of who he was being the Dupont family ring on his finger.

They couldn't call the police, not or something like this. Charles had her return home to France while he and his brother recovered the body. That was the harsh reality of their lives.

The funeral was held at the Dupont family manor. The heads of family gathered around as the casket was lowered.

It was a rare moment of peace between then. The silence as his casket was covered with dirt. From the edge of the property, she was there, crying and screaming until her lungs ached.

They weren't meant to be there. The funeral was for the heads of families and a few right hand men. But Charles and Lorenzo, his older brother, stood with her as she sobbed. If the heads of families head, they didn't give any indication.

When the heads of families went into the house to conduct their meeting, the three of them crept closer. Her cried had quietened as they pressed themselves against the bricks, ducking beneath the window of the meeting room.

"This is no coincidence!" Bellowed Dupont as he looked at the rest of the heads. His right hand man, Leclerc, stood beside him, noting all of the reactions around the room.

"How dare you throw these accusations at us!" Webber shouted back. "How dare you insinuate that one of us violated the rules of the safe zone to murder your son!"

"The suggestion that my son was murdered by somebody who doesn't want to send a message to me and my family is preposterous!"

And suddenly they were all shouting over each other, making it impossible for the three below the windows to listen in. Lorenzo pressed his fingers to his lips as he stoop up slightly and peered into the window.

The calmest one was Hamilton. He was the youngest, didn't yet have any people behind him. But he was growing, and at a rapid rate. He stood and placed his hand flat on the table, silencing everybody around the room. "Dupont, what happened to your son is a tragedy, one that will not soon be forgotten. It was a crime committed by a sick individual. But it wasn't a member of any family. The way they killed him, that isn't how we do things. Our men are taught to kill quietly, efficiently. To leave no mess."

There was nothing but mess in the way that he was killed.

He was right. Every head of family knew he was right. Even if it was a tough pill for Dupont to swallow.

"But," Hamilton continued, "I am open for my operations to be investigated. As is everyone in this room." He looked from side to side. "Unless there is something anybody wants to share."

Silence fell across the room.

Suddenly, Dupont's right hand man stepped forward. "The proposal from here is to review the laws we have around the safe zone. It has always been free of weapons, but we will tighten security, have multiple check points set up."

Dupont looked towards Leclerc and then addressed the rest of the room. "Leclerc grew up in Monaco. It is where he is raising his family. To me, it makes the most sense that he heads up this operation."

The rest of the heads of family agreed. The conversation continued calmly, with the rest of the meeting headed up by Hamilton. From his place between Rosberg and Webber, Verstappen stayed quiet. But that wasn't unusual for a man this cold and calculating.

Just two days after the funeral, Dupont moved his wife and daughter to Monaco. The Dupont Manor was emptied, used only for business. Nobody knew that Dupont had moved his family, nobody but the Leclercs.

As soon as he turned eighteen, Charles Leclerc was welcomed into the Dupont family. He was insanely proud to be working alongside his father and brother, even if his job was a little different.

Where Hervé was Dupont's right hand man, effectively running the family with him, and Lorenzo did 'enforcement' for the family, Charles had a different job. Charles was assigned to guard her. She was fifteen, turning sixteen, and full of teenaged... feelings. She wasn't rebellious, not after what happened to her brother.

But she wanted to go out, wanted to make friends and have fun. Charles could let her do that. He couldn't let her put herself in danger like that.

When Charles was nineteen, about to turn twenty, he lost his father. He had been at her place, listening to her ramble about getting a job. Because, maybe if she she had a dog, Charles would let her go and have fun.

She told Charles what dog she wanted. A sweet doberman or a scary rottweiler with a silly name. One she could walk with a spiked collar and a black leather leash.

"That way, you don't have to keep being my guard dog," she had said as she sat on the sofa, her feet on his lap.

Charles had rolled his eyes at her. "You say that like I don't like guarding you, Lapinette."

He'd gotten the call after that, interrupting their conversation. The phone had fallen out of Charles's hands, but he didn’t react much beyond that.

He'd been prepared for this, just like every child who grew up in a family (well, everyone but her, but Bunny). But it was still a shock, still stung.

"Cha," she said as she sat up. "What's the matter?"

He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Nothing, Bunny." His eyes stung but he held back the tears. "Uh, I'm gonna send Arthur to come here. Lock the door after me and don't let anybody in until he knocks."

Fear suddenly filled her. But Charles brushed her hair behind her ears and kissed her forehead. "I promise, everything is fine."

She always did what Charles said. They had pretty much become roommates, him living in her apartment, the one her dad bought for her the moment she turned eighteen.

But being eighteen brought out her first moment of rebellion.

The first time she snuck out, Charles caught her. The second time she snuck out, Charles caught her.

But, with each time that he caught her, she got better. She got better and better. She got so good that Charles had to chase her down the street when he found the apartment empty.

She got good enough to not get caught. She learnt Charles's patterns well enough to sneak out like an expect. Well, if you could be an expert at something like that.

At twenty-four, she decided that her favourite place to go when she snuck out. The café that served all the different teas and the fruity smoothies. They had the seats outside with the plush seat cushions and wide umbrellas that protected her from the sun.

That was where Max first saw her. It was rare that he got to use the Verstappen apartment inside of the safe zone. But, the last job his father had sent him on had turned into a bloodbath.

His week long visit was to try and cool him off. Verstappen wasn't one to care about death, but if Max continued the way he was going, it was going to destroy Verstappens operation.

He thought he had seen an angel.

There she sat, wearing that white sundress with the little blue flowers. She sipped her fruity drink as she looked across the street. Not at him, not where he sat in his car. No, she looked to the right of him, at the view of the tree in front of the harbour. He could see her as her pencil moved against her notebook, no doubt drawing the scene.

Max watched her until the person driving behind him beeped their horn. He quickly drove away, but he wouldn't be forgetting the angel any time soon.

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