#david x plus size reader

[chubbyreaderchan]

Crying in the Sand | Poly! Lost Boys x plus sized!Reader

Summary: The Lost Boy’s mate has some old “friends” come to town. She wants to spend time with them without her boys but they end up destroying her self-esteem instead. The boys will not let them get away with it. 

Warnings: Sexual innuendos but no real sex scenes, cursing, blood, violence, fighting, body shaming, self-hatred, anxiety, shirtless men for some reason, nudity, strong language, bullying, adult bullying, reader is larger in clothes size than the boys but they don’t care, Marko being let loose. Everyone in the coven is dating everyone else. No Michael or Star or Laddie :(

David’s arm wrapped around her plush hip, pressing her into his side gently. The boys were acting rowdy as they walked the boardwalk, minus Dwayne who was loyally carrying her bags despite her protests. She had been holding off the entire night to tell them she wasn’t going to be hanging out with them the next night. They had a hard time allowing their mate to go anywhere without them, but she made them promise to allow her to have other friends. Which was hard to do as an adult who surrounds herself with scary biker boys with pretty hair. 

But old friends were good. They didn’t know her boys, they had no idea they existed since they were coming to California for vacation from her hometown. They were only passing through the next night and then they were off to try to get to Hollywood and Disneyland for the rest of their trip. She was sure she was a fleeting thought in their minds. They hadn’t contacted her since graduation and she mostly forgot about them until they got her phone number from her family.

“You alright?” Dwayne said. 

His voice was low, and had the depth of dark chocolate and the warmth of his leather jacket on a cold night like tonight. His knuckle brushed over her plush cheek, a forest fire against her cheek despite his deathly cold. David’s fingers dug into her side and the leader looked at Dwayne, mildly annoyed he noticed her thoughts before he did. 

“What’s wrong, princess?” 

She took a deep breath. Now or never. 

“My friends from high school called me last night. I guess they are flying into Santa Carla because the tickets were cheap,” she said. 

(Y/n) leaned into David a bit more, as if seeking physical support from him. He was the leader and protector, she thrived off of that. She liked feeling his protection and listening to his opinions. 

“They want to hang out. Go to some beach. Something less popular than--” 

She motions around them at the crowds and lights. 

“They only have a day to stretch their legs and they want to hit up the beach before they go to Disney,” 

“Are you wanting to introduce us?” David asked. 

(Y/n) bit the inside of her cheek, thoughtful. That was something she hadn’t decided on yet. There were a few snakes in her old friend group and she did not want to share her boys with them. They had snatched so many crushes from her in the past, or even helped boys prank her with false dates. 

“No,” she was firm. “They are from a small town. They wouldn’t get it… or us,” 

David gave her a look, it was cold and distant. A tinge of jalousy seemed to sully the air. Dwayne’s hand joined David’s on her body. His hand pressed against the blonde leader it was intimate and comforting for both (Y/n) and David. 

“She should be able to see her friends without us,” Dwayne said gently. 

They could aways watch from a distance. 

Leave it to Paul to ruin the comfortable gazes between the two boys. His lanky arms wrapped around their human mate in a near breath stealing grasp. He nipped at her neck and she giggled at the ticklish sensation. 

“What? Don’t want your high school buddies to be jealous?” Paul purred. 

Marko was in front of her in an instant, keeping a steady pace walking backwards to look at her features. Her soft stomach was his favorite and he often encouraged her to show it off, but it was hidden tonight. With a final leer he grinned his devilish smile that made (Y/n) melt and give into practically anything he wanted. 

“Maybe she doesn’t want them to know how kinky our lady is,” Marko smile never wavered. 

His fists pulled at the opening of his jacket, tongue lapping out at his lips. 

“Not that they’d ever find out, amore,” 

Never in her life had she had so many boys pinning and loving her like they did. She felt wanted and taken care of all at the same time with the four wild vampires. 

“If we aren’t going to see you much tomorrow then we should go back to the cave,” David mused. 

The vampire swiftly tugged the cigarette from behind his ear, pressing it between his lips before lighting it. The hot burn of cigarette smoke filled the air even with his efforts to puff the smoke away from the fragile human he was so annamoured with. 

“Why’s that?” she asked. 

“We need to scent you,”

“Scent me?” 

He hummed, his own devilish grin tugged at his lips. It wasn’t fair how handsome he was. It took everything in (Y/n)’s body to run her fingers through his course facial hair. 

“Can’t have any others trying to touch what is ours,” 

His face was close to her’s now. David’s scent of tobacco, mint, and metal washed over her face. He leans in close and almost purrs his next words. 

“And kitten, you can touch my beard all you want…. But I think it might feel better against your thighs,” 

Her face heated and her thighs rubbed together at the insinuation. The sharp ears of the others caught every word and like a pack of hyenas they howled with laughter. 

“I would punch you if you weren’t so pretty,” she said,

She crossed her arms over her chest like a child. David couldn’t help but laugh, knowing very well her threats meant nothing. His soft lips pressed against her’s in a chaste kiss. 

-- 

The day started with her friends arriving at her apartment. No, scratch that. One friend who was one of the snakes, and two girls who used to bully her relentlessly arrived on her front porch. She knew the snake friend was coming but apparently (Y/n) had assumed that she was still friends with the others she used to be around. 

“You look…” the snake, known as Allison grimced visibly. “Like you!” 

Ouch. That one hurt. She could feel herself folding in already and the day with them had hardly started. Ashley the blonde resident mean rich girl in the town hugged (Y/n) like she had a disease and only did so out of politeness. The third was a dark haired girl who always seemed to be a package deal with Ashley. Bridget… thought (Y/n) had often called her an “idiot” in her head. 

“Hi, uh…” she smiled fakely and followed Ashley into the apartment. 

“Once we get relaxed a smidge,” Ashley said. “We should go to lunch. Didn’t you mom say you work on a boardwalk?” 

“I thought you didn’t want to hit the boardwalk?” (Y/n) asked. 

“Oh, we don’t want to hit the boardwalk at night. Too crowded and… too dangerous,” she cringed. 

The plump girl wanted to roll her eyes, but she was right. The boardwalk plus peak summer season plus night and minus her boys could be a one way ticket to robbery… or worse. Though the “or worse” were her boys. She’d always be safe on the boardwalk. 

“Oh, sweetie, You aren’t going to wear that to lunch are you?” Allison asked. “It’s a bit tight don’t you think?” 

(Y/n) looked at the shirt that hugged her body quite tight, a faded Rolling Stones t-shirt. Yes it was a bit small, fitting a bit like a crop top and she did snip part of the neckline to fit a bit better but it was Paul’s shirt. He gave it to her. From his own clothes. 

“Here sugar,” the wild blonde grinned, tossing the t-shirt at her bare body. 

The boys were out feeding that night and Paul had practically destroyed her mind with incredible sex and just his overall vibe. They never liked her to be alone in the cave if they could help it. 

“Paul, how high are you?” 

“No, babe, it’s hi how are you,” he grinned jumping into her nest and kissing her jaw. 

“No, Paulie. Baby… I’m gonna stretch it out,” 

“And?”

“Don’t you like this shirt?” 

“It’s my favorite,” he grinned. 

His lips continued to kiss her neck. 

“I’ll ruin it. Stretch it,” 

“Well, call it payback, sugar,” He sucked on her neck. 

Her mind was getting fuzzy again. “For what?” 

“For you letting me stretch your pussy out,” 

The memory normally made her laugh but her fingers were now tangled at the hem of the shirt. Stress was filling her mind. 

“Yeah, I can change,” she said softly. “Just make yourselves at home,” 

It wasn’t long and she came out to the three girls giggling. It was like they never left high school. They looked up at her and Bridget laughs again. 

“Are you done?” (Y/n) asked. “Would you like to see the boardwalk or not?” 

“Of course, you look so cute. We’re gonna take my car. It’s bigger,” Ashley grinned. “A rental,” 

It took a lot to not gag at the fakeness in her voice. (Y/n) threw her bag over her shoulder, tracing the patch Marko had stitched into it as she walked to the car. 

“Bridgy,” Ashley smiled. “Let (Y/n) sit up front. She is hosting us after all,” 

Bridget climbs into the back and (Y/n) sits in the front telling her in detail the best ways to get the pier. She couldn’t remember the last time she was her in the day time, it was still lively but it was just a different feeling.

It felt more family friendly and not one wrong move from being either a rave or a brawl. No David holding her hip or Marko pinching her sides. No Paul wanting to sneak her off into one of the changing booths or even a Dwayne making sure she actually eats something that was sugar dipped in more sugar. It was a familiar loneliness she had hanging over her she had most of her teenage year as the three women linked arms and (Y/n) fell behind them. She was never lonely or felt as if she wasn’t wanted with her boys. 

Hell, if they didn’t want her around they would’ve eaten her by now… and not in the fun way. 

“Where should we eat?” Allison called over her shoulder. “What’s good?” 

“There’s a 24 hour diner near the Di--,” 

“What, no,” Ashley said. 

The preppy blonde was aghast at the mention of a diner. She rolled her eyes and reached into her beach bag. A pamphlet of the local attractions and restaurants she must’ve gotten at a rest stop at some point. 

“Oh, we should go to the seafood place,” Ashley grinned. 

(Y/n) cringed at the thought. The boys had told her many sketchy things about the owner and management. It was not a great choice but a water and a side salad would hold over until she could get a corn dog from her favorite booth. Maybe. 

The best part of the restaurant was definitely the air conditioning. It felt nice against her skin, she even tugged her well loved jacket from her shoulders. Another gift she had an argument over when David gave it to her. It was older, but with Marko’s sewing skills and patches from all of them it was transformed into hers, though the arms were a bit tight and it didn’t zip properly but it fit the best out of all the boy’s clothes and she adored it. Marko promised to make it fit better but she wasn’t sure she wanted it. It was like a constant hug from David, it even smelled like him. But even a punk can get sweaty in a jacket on the beach. 

---

“Why did you let us eat there?” Ashley whined as they walked down the boardwalk. 

“You wouldn’t listen if I told you,” (Y/n) replied. 

“Wait where are you going?” Bridget copied the whine of the other girl.

It made her want to jam a plastic fork into her ear. Somehow she managed to get in line at the good corndog place, as suggested by Marko. 

“I thought you were dieting. You know cuz the jacket was so tight and the salad,” Bridget accused. 

She shook her head and bit her lip. Her hand went into her pocket fidgeting with the coins inside. This was going to be a long day and it had barely started. She could’ve been in bed this whole time. Hell, she could’ve been in her nest the entire time, with her boys. Hell, she’d even hang out with Max at this point. At least he wasn’t an open asshole like these girls were. 

(Y/n) bit into the fried treat and sighed in contentment. 

---

“Are you sure this beach is private enough?” Allison called. 

Then she giggled and whispered. The sun was starting to set and the girls wanted to abandon the boardwalk quickly. (Y/n)’s mind ached from being around the three girls and she was practically counting down the hours until she could go back to her boys. By the time they were on the beach she knew of, the sun was down and it was quite dark. 

“Of course, I come here all the time,” she said. “Nothing for miles,” 

Other than a cave. 

“Oh good,” Allison giggled.

She tore off her top and began stripping in the dark. (Y/n) watched in shock. The darkness of the beach wasn’t enough to conciel the girls stripping down to their birthday suits. 

“Come on, (Y/n). We did this all the time back home. It’s why we wanted to come here at night,” she giggled. “Join us,” 

The grin on Allison’s lips would have mimicked Markos. This would have been a Marko or Paul idea but something felt off about this. The instinct to pull in and run as fast as she could was buzzing in her brain harder than the first time she saw a vampire feed. But just like then she pushed it away, the wild side that was primmed and built by the coven of vampires was screaming to just do it. 

A sharp swallow felt like it cut down her entire body. She pulled her jacket off then her top and the rest of her clothes. The girls were huddled and giggling, bile made it’s way up her throat. Bitter and painful as the rest ran into the water. Even at her age, peer pressure seemed to be winning her over as she went into the dark waters. Her heard was racing as the cold touched her hot skin. It cooled over the places where the sun had touched, she sighed again in contentment. The fear was washed away from her body with each crash of the wave. 

Her eyes fluttered shut and she enjoyed the sounds of the night. Quiet and still, with the occasional sound of wildlife that lived in the area. Quiet never happened with all the boys. Quiet could only be obtained with Dwayne or David. All four was shouting and calling and flirting and--. 

Giggles. 

(Y/n)’s eyes shot open. It was too dark to see anyone. She spun in a circle, hoping to see anyone. Anything. Gone. They left her. She swallowed hard, and fought back the tears of frustration and memories. This wasn’t the first time Allison played this prank. Leaving her in the middle of nowhere. But it was fine. She would just pull on her clothes and just go to the cave or the boardwalk and find her boys. 

She stepped onto the sand, careful not to step on a scuttering crab before heading to her clothes which---

They weren’t there. Her jacket. Her shirt. Even her swimsuit and bag were gone, hot tears filled her eyes arms wrapping around her bare body as she fell into the sand with a thud. Her breathing was hard and ragged. The bullying through the day seemed to have built up to this moment. It was as if time hadn’t moved since she was 16 and trying to blend in only to stand out more. She coughed out a sob. She hardly registered the rumbling of motors coming down the beach. 

---

“This is lame,” Marko said. 

He chewed at the glove on his left hand anxiously. The group of boys seemed dull. David was simply browsing the night’s produce, deciding which bodies could fill their bellies and the boredom without their mate to complete their family. 

No one peaked his curiosity. Hell, he wasn’t even that hungry, at least not that kind of hunger. David could practically still taste her on his tongue and her smell still lingered on the boardwalk. It was hours old but he knew her scent so well that it could’ve been just a few seconds ago. 

He was growing irritated. Like a caged jaguar. He wanted to rip into something, but had no one good enough. Nothing caught his interest other than a back and fourth look over the crowd. 

“Maybe (Y/n)’s friends left,” Paul said, hopeful. 

“If that’s the case she’d come to us,” Dwayne said, leaning back a bit on his bike. 

He stretched and grunted slight before leaning forward again on the handles. Dwayne didn’t need to stretch but it was an old human habit, like breathing. But he was disappointed when he remember that their little mate wasn’t their to ogle at his muscles beneath his skin. 

“Let’s go,” David flicked his cigarette carelessly. “No one looks worth it tonight,” 

They kicked off their bikes and onto the beach they drove. Taking the long sandy way home in the hopes of finding some form of entertainment. The pack were wooping and hollering but it didn’t feel as good as when it was filled with giggles. A piece of their coven was missing. David hated and loved how much she meant to the dynamic of their family. 

David inhales, sand brushed against his nostrils but that wasn’t the scent that bothered his nose. Tears. Fear. 

Her. 

Something was wrong, and David tried not to allow his true face out. He slowed his bike and the boys followed. Marko was next to him sniffing the air, he liked the smell of tears but not like this. They could see her curled in on her self crying. 

Naked. And crying. 

--

Leather enveloped her shoulders and she looked up to see Dwayne. He smiled at her sadly, kneeling to her level. 

He brushed a rough thumb under her eyes, wiping a tear off her cheek. 

“What the fuck happened, amore,” Marko was in front of her, hands gripping into fists. 

Pacing and cursing in Italian. David looked just as pissed and she didn’t see paul. Not until he threw the shirt he had on at her playfully. 

“Paul,” She whimpered. 

“Don’t even start, sugar. Just put it on,” 

His voice lacked any warmth. No happy go lucky Paul, but a serious man with anger in his voice. A black Led Zepplin shirt that smelled of him and weed. It stretched over her body, but it wasn’t enough to cover her bottom half. She moved Dwayne’s jacket to covers up but she was still very bare. But she did feel a bit better with her boys surrounding her. 

“What the hell happened,” David mimicked Marko’s question. 

His movements were so quiet she jumped when she turned to see him crouched infront of her, leather hands on her knees. 

“They convinced me to swim… without,” she sniffed. “Then took my clothes and left… I just want my jacket and bag back,” 

David pulled his large over coat off and placed it on her as well. 

“Don’t worry kitten, we’ll take care of it,” David said.

His gloved hand 

“I’ll take her back to the cave,” Dwayne said. 

He didn’t even hesitate. He lifted (Y/n) as if she weighed nothing, wrapping her tightly to keep her modest, not that anyone would see a thing or even look while in his arms. 

“I don’t,” 

“Don’t worry mama,” he soothed. “We’re flying. I’ll get my bike when you are in your nest,” 

--

Paul, Marko, and David were off. Following the scent of fake cucumber and soon to be dead bitches. Marko was the first to spot them, his eyes were especially sharp when he was pissed off and hungry. They didn’t care about safety or stopping, they tailgated them until the women finally pulled off. Clearly, they weren’t very smart. David’s bike barely stopped when he hopped off. Rage was fueling him, and his eyes were yellow. His hunger had suddenly returned. 

“What the hell--,” the blonde yelled. 

“Where the fuck is her stuff,” 

The woman in pink finally looked into David’s face. She stammered. Marko had already ripped the door of the passengerside causing the women to scream. Paul smashed the back window, seeing (Y/n)’s clothes and bag. 

The brunette screamed again as Marko tugged her from her seat. He held her so tight her arm snapped under the force and she screamed again. Marko’s long tongue flicked out before he took a rough bite. 

They would be another set of missing people. 

-- 

“Good thing you leave so much here,” Dwayne teased, running his hands over her thigh. It was a pair of sweat pants she had forgotten ages ago but she was grateful for them. She didn’t want to steal another item of their clothes. 

“Though I still think you’d be cuter in my boxers,” 

They were laying in her next again, right under where the boys would sleep. It was safest to them and they liked having her there, since she would be joining them on the ceiling someday. Dwayne leaned forward, kissing another stray tear. He had already left and retrieved his bike, and now he could be comfortable with her. His jacket was still over her shoulders and she was hugging David’s like a security blanket. 

Tears still crept from her eyes, but he could tell she was feeling better. 

His fingers traced over the waist band of her hips and he kissed another stray tear away. He kissed down her cheek all the way to her lips. Dwayne smiled when she returned the kiss, moving so she could touch his body. The cave rumbled and the other vampires came in wildly. The curtains moved and the first boy rushed in, bag on his shoulder and a grin on his face.

“Sorry, Dwayne. There wasn’t enough bitch for all of us,” Paul said patting his shoulder.

Happy Paul was back but his face and hands were coated in blood. He placed her things beside her bed and he leaned in to kiss her but Dwayne put a hand against his other lover’s chest. 

“Clean first, then kiss her.” 

“Yeah yeah, human blood disease,” Paul hissed. 

Marko rushed in next. Wild eyed and looking like he could go for another fight. But he was clean, or at least his skin was. His shirt was stained and ripped apart but his jacket was a beautiful as alway. 

 His eyes flickered around and landed on his girl. Puffy eyed, but smiling at him. 

“Feeling better, Venus?” He teased. 

She nodded. 

He shrugged his jacket off, then shoes, then his shirt before climbing in behind her. His arms snaked around her middle, squeezing at the doughy flesh of her belly just right. 

“Stop! That tickles,” She giggled trying to pull away from him. 

“Amore, how can I stop when you are just so irresistible,” 

Dwayne rolled his eyes at the antics. “Marko,” He was stern. 

Marko paused his tickling and rolled his eyes before just hugging his hurting mate from behind. He kissed her neck and nipped at the skin softly. 

“Don’t worry, my Venus,” he whispered. “Those girls wont ever hurt you again,” 

His breath is cool against her skin and she can’t help but to hum. She leaned against Marko and he allowed her enjoying her against his chest. 

The curtains pulled back again, David was now also shirtless his hair damp and gel-less. It was slightly messy without product and (Y/n) loved it very much. His lips curl into a smug smile. 

“I’m glad you like my jacket, kitten but I think I’d be a better replacement,” 

He crawled into the nest as well. He sat between Dwayne and (Y/n) taking the jacket from her hands before pulling her from Marko’s grip. She layed against his soft chest and he purred as her fingers danced over his soft belly before gently playing with his chest hair. Marko found himself back behind her, hugging for dear life. His fingers tapped against her middle. 

They all seemed to be buzzing with energy. 

“What the fuck? Why are you guys hogging the babe!” 

Paul launched himself into the pile of lovers wedging himself between the tangled legs of (Y/n) and David. Dwayne rolled his eyes before scooting into David’s other side, placing a hand on the exposed midriff of his princess. 

“I don’t think I want friends anymore,” she hummed. “You guys are like friends and boyfriends wrapped in one,” 

“You should still have friends,” Dwayne said gently. “I bet you’d like Gloria,” 

“No, I think i’m content,” 

“Whatever you want kitten,” David said. “That’s what you’ll get,” 

His fingers traced over any skin or into any hair that he could. They went down to her jaw and gently lifted her chin. He pressed a kiss against her lips. 

“I want to kiss her,” Paul huffed, pushing up against David’s stomach to climb to her face.

David grunted in annoyance but held his tongue from shouting at the vamponeside golden retriever. He just watched as he sloppily devoured her lips. 

She was never going to be alone like that again. He wouldn’t allow it. 

#tlb #the lost boys imagine #the lost boys x reader #tlb x reader #tlb x y/n #tlb x you #marko x reader #david x reader #paul x reader #dwayne x reader #the lost boys headcanon #poly!lost boys x reader #plus size reader #fat reader #fat inclusive #tlb David x reader #tlb marko x reader #tlb dwayne x reader #tlb paul x reader

[megamindsecretlair]

Cold on Me, Part 1

Pairing: David Kane x Atlantean!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Plot with smut, cursing, fingering (female receiving) , orgasm denial, dirty talk, Atlantean reader. Established relationship.

Summary: On a mission to recover an artifact sacred to your people, you journey through Rome to meet up with your contact. When he tries to take more than what's offered, none other than David Kane comes to your rescue. The man you hate. The man you would have done anything for. The man you can never trust again.

Word Count: 4,120k

A/N: WHEW! If ya'll only knew the heart palpitations it took to get a proper David Kane fic going! I like the final product. Please let me know if you would like to opt out of David Kane fics! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @nworbaij @hopefulromantic1 @lesbiantreehugger @longpause-awkwardsmile @badassdoll @kholdkill @cardi-bre91 @blowmymbackout @jay-mach @sageispunk @yourofficialgal @harmshake @ciaqui @liyaah02 @monaeesstuff @papichulojustice

This was your last chance. 

The contact said to meet him at some rundown bar on the edge of town, just off the coast of Rome. You walked down the dimly lit, cobblestone street with your boots making soft sounds. The weather was frightfully cold, a bitter wind kissing your cheeks where the oversized jacket didn’t cover you.

Rome was a pretty city, if a little rundown. Like you could picture its former glory in the streets, the buildings, and the gargoyles casting down their eyes from the rooftops. At any moment, a sculptor could chip away at the history, grime, and graffiti and then a legionary would walk down the street once more in their scarlet guard uniforms.

It had been a long time since you visited Rome last. Too bad you didn’t have time to explore like you wanted. You finally got a lead on an ancient artifact belonging to your people. You bared your teeth, already getting worked up at the thought of these senseless humans playing with things they knew nothing about.

You had to remind yourself that they were still such children. With finite lives. Most were trying. Most were decent. But they made you so fucking weary every time you traveled to the surfact world. 

You looked up at the street name on the side of the building and turned down an even darker alleyway. You hoped that these people got the sense to install more lights in the alleys. This couldn’t be safe for anyone walking alone at night, holy city or no.

Rumbling laughter echoed down the alleyway as you approached the bar. You took off your gloves and headed inside, pushing past sneering looks and stale beer breath. You knew that you would stand out, but desperate times were pressing on you now. 

The contact, Dom, stated that he would be sitting in a booth. You walked further into the place, boots crunching on discarded cigarettes and…something you didn’t want to think about. The walls were covered in posters that looked baked into the deep red paint, peeling vinyl seats, scratched bartop, and neon signs behind the burly bartender who stood leaning a hip against the countertop talking to a patron. 

This was the type of place that no one looked too closely at one another. No one looked anyone in the eye too long unless they wanted to be punched in the throat. This was a bar where deals went down in whispered confidences, beer spilled over the rim of mugs, and whiskey shot back among rivals. It was a neutral bar. No fighting. Allegedly.

You bypassed rough looking men with leather jackets, tattoos, and bald heads. You passed rougher looking women with short hair, short sleeves, and even shorter attitudes. You pulled out your phone, glancing at the time.

You were on time, but where was Dom? You texted him, taking off your sling bag, and sliding into an available booth. The seat cracked under you, vinyl digging past your cargo pants. But you ignored it and slid in further. 

Dom stated that he would be there in five minutes, so you relaxed and took in your surroundings. You were drawing a lot of stares. From the complexion of your skin, to the audacity of your hair, you knew that you did not fit in with the olive-toned people native to this country. That was okay. 

Once you had the artifact, you could return it to its rightful place. That was all you wanted. All you longed for. 

A young waitress walked by with black lipstick and a half-shaved head. She popped gum in her mouth and asked what you wanted. You told her your favorite drink and she disappeared, leaving you to your own devices.

You were on edge. You knew you were because this was an important exchange but you couldn’t help feeling a sense of foreboding. That tonight, everything was going to change. You didn’t know how but you’d always had a sense about these things. 

You felt every tick of the clock on the far wall. Right when the waitress returned with your drink, a short white man with short dark hair slid into the booth in front of you. He huffed, settling into the seat as if he had been walking or jogging and now he finally had a chance to rest. 

“You have the time?” The man asked. 

“No one carries watches anymore,” you said, confirming that this guy was who he said he was. He smiled, getting more comfortable. 

“Do you have it?” You asked.

“Depends. Got my money?” He asked.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. You were offended that you even had to go through all of this. But the goddess requested that this was an undercover mission. That you limit your exposure as much as possible. You ran your tongue over your teeth and smiled.

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” you said. You didn’t want to seem too eager. Or too interested in the knife in his possession. He thought it was some stupid tribal knife, made of some “funny metal”. You downplayed its importance by emphasizing the metal, letting him know that it was valuable but not as valuable as he was thinking. You were a collector of ancient weaponry, nothing more. 

He could try to melt the thing or sell it somewhere else, but no one else had access to the priceless gems in your pocket. You’d make him richer than the sun itself if it meant that you got your hands on it before anyone else did. 

You drew a pouch out of your pocket, grabbing a diamond from within and placing it on the table. He snatched it up, cupping it in his hands and looking at it. He would need an actual piece of glass to determine the clarity, but he didn’t need it. The diamond was pure, uncut, and best of all, conflict free. 

Dom nodded, but you saw how big his eyes got looking at the diamond. His only language was greed. He fished around in his pocket before pulling the knife out, wrapped in a dark cloth. He untied it, revealing the weapon hilt first.

You fought like hell to school your expression. So that the hunger in his eyes didn’t reflect back in yours. It looked ordinary, carved with ancient symbols that didn’t mean anything to him but everything to you. It depicted a death ritual, once believed to be lost over time. As more and more humans encroached on the ocean, traveling further and deeper than ever before, they constantly ran across things that did not belong to them. Recovering those artifacts was your life’s mission. 

You reached out a hand to grab it, but his hand slammed on top of yours. “I want payment first,” he said. 

“How do I know this is the real thing?” You asked. It could be a replica. It could be sand that would crumble in your fingers. You’d be the laughing stock of all of Atlantis if you dared bring back a fake. 

Dom grinned, showing yellow, crooked teeth and you bit your tongue to keep from grimacing. “I wouldn’t do that to such a pretty girl such as yourself,” he said. His hand began to stroke yours and you snatched it back.

Dom laughed, grabbing your drink and downing it in one go. Let him have it. If this was the genuine article, you could return to the water where you belonged. 

“Once I confirm its authenticity, you’ll get the rest of your payment like we agreed. Not a shiny gem before it,” you said.

He clicked his teeth, eyeing you. But finally relented and moved his hand. You reached out and ran your hand over the knife, feeling the rhythm of the metal singing to you. It was real. It was true. 

You nodded, tossing him the packet of diamonds. He snatched it from the air like he couldn’t bear a second that it wasn’t in his possession. You stood up, ready to be done with the place. You tucked the knife into your backpack, zipped it up and threw it around your head, securing it to your body.

Dom grabbed you by the wrist. “What’s the rush, huh? We just made a deal. We should celebrate!” He yelled, loud enough to be heard over the booming rock music. You glanced around, nervous that he was drawing too much attention. 

He had glassy eyes and a too easy grin. He would be decent looking if he lost some of the puffiness, brushed his teeth, and took a shower or twelve. But you had absolutely no interest. You yanked your arm back, but he held on.

“I said sit. And tell me why this knife is so important. You outbid some very powerful people,” he said. He was no longer smiling. No longer joking. 

You balled your first, jerking your hand back. But he held on with a strength he shouldn’t possess. You were stronger than humans, capable of breaking their necks with a flick of a wrist. The goddess demanded that you work quietly however. So you were left to play human. 

“Remove your hand, now,” you said. 

“If people come after me over this, I will point them right to you,” he said.

“Is that a threat?” You asked. 

“Friendly heads up,” he said.

“Let the lady go,” a deep, soothing voice said behind you. You closed your eyes and cursed under your breath. He was the last person you expected to be here. But you should have known. If there was an artifact out there to steal, David Kane was the first on the scene to see how much he could sell it for. 

“I don’t need your help,” you tossed over your shoulder. You were always blown away by how tall he was. How he didn’t have to do anything to be intimidating. One scowl, one flex of his jaw, one roll of his shoulders and it was obvious that he was a man that no one wanted to fuck with.

Skin like bruised bronze, wide shoulders, and a chiseled face, David Kane was a walking red flag. He stepped closer to your back, bringing with him a wall of heat that brought up too many memories and none of them good. 

“You look like you’re doing real well without me,” he said. 

“I am, thanks for noticing,” you whispered. You turned back to the contact and looked down at his slimy hand on yours. Why the hell was it wet? Did you even want to know at this point? Maybe if he perspired enough, you’d be able to slip your hand out from his grasp.

“Who the hell is this? Your muscle?” The man snorted. “Your boyfriend?” 

“The lady told you to let her go. So do it,” David said. His voice made your thighs tingle. You took a deep breath. Years. It had been years and he still made you have a visceral reaction to him. Like you were back in Greece, back in his arms. 

You shook the thought from your head and stepped closer to Dom. He smiled, like you were choosing him over David. As if. You flipped your wrist, breaking his hold. You grabbed onto his middle finger, breaking it. Dom screamed and David pushed forward, holding his hand to the man’s mouth.

“Next time a woman tells you not to touch her, listen.” You walked away, throwing your hood back up on your head. You needed to get out of there, fast. You pushed through the entrance before anyone could mention that you broke the rules. You harmed someone while inside the bar. Never mind that Dom started it. You were the outlier. The outsider. You were the one that did not belong. 

They let you pass, faces twisted like they smelled something funky or stepped in gum. You ignored them. Quiet. Quiet. You were going for quiet. 

Out into the crisp night, you headed off down the cobblestone street, dipping down alleyway after alleyway hoping to fend off any type of pursuit. Your steps were the only sound in the quiet night. Like the city was sleeping despite the bars and eateries behind every bend, filled to the brim with locals and tourists trying the latest cuisine. 

The streets were so narrow here and though your bike could have made it through, you did not want to draw that much attention to yourself. You took the long way around, checking over your shoulder every so often. There was no way to track you in this place, no way to leave behind any mark that you existed. 

Still, you cast your eyes behind you, clouds of breath escaping you. Your lungs burned from the cold. Your cheeks stung from the bite. These shoes were killing you. You longed for the safety of the water. 

You stepped around a building, the same pinkish hue that all the buildings seemed to share. Sunbaked and centuries old. You caught your breath. You couldn’t live like this. You weren’t used to looking over your shoulder like this. 

You had to keep moving. You had to make sure that you made it to the nearest open body of water before David caught up with you. Why was he even here? What the hell did he want? 

Fuck him. Fuck him for still looking as good as he did. Sounding as good as he did. Whatever he did now was of no consequence to you. You took deep breaths in, letting the cold awaken your senses. Your mission was not yet over and you needed to keep moving.

Goddess protect me. 

You rounded the corner, back to civilization with its street lamps and passing cars. You were approaching the mouth of the alley when a hand pulled you back, deep within the shadows. You kicked out your leg. Despite his height and size, David was incredibly agile. 

He chuckled, pulling you close to his body. His warm, tall body. He wrapped his arms around you, but before he could lock you in, you broke his hold. You turned and punched and kicked at him, he laughed and dodged like this was a sparring game and not you fighting for your life.

You managed to land a solid punch, feeling great satisfaction from watching his head snap back. Your moment of triumph was short lived as he took the fight more seriously. But he was more focused on subduing you than fighting you.

“I deserved that, but you only get one,” he growled. 

He blocked your next two punches, grabbing both of your wrists and spinning you to face the building. He pushed you against it, yanking your arms behind you. You growled and wriggled, but there was no way to break out of this. Not when he pressed his chest into your back, pinning your further against the building. You were trapped. With your worst enemy. 

Wait till your team back home hears about this one. In fact…they didn’t need to know this part. You’d never told anyone about David, too afraid that your sisters would tease and mock you. The fish who fell in love with a bird. It was a joke. A cautionary tale. A tragedy. 

You stopped fighting. Your gasps created tiny clouds in the air. David huffed and heaved behind you, pressing his chest into your back with every inhale. “You gonna punch me again if I let you go?” He asked.

“Depends. Let me go and we’ll see,” you said.

He laughed, dropping his head to your ear. You hated that you shivered. You hoped he thought it was because of the cold and not because of his proximity. Bastard. Fuck him.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said. 

“I was counting on that, actually.” Out of the seven seas and the seven continents, you did not think you’d bump into David Kane again. What were the odds? What sick, cruel fate brought you back into David’s war path? 

Didn’t matter. You needed to escape before he found the knife in your bag. 

“You didn’t miss me? Not even a little?” He nuzzled your ear and you bit your lip. What game was he playing? 

“Not even a little,” you said. Your voice was even. Your stomach was doing backflips. Fuck him. Fuck him. You repeated it like a mantra in your head, trying to hold on to the burning hatred in your veins. Your body betrayed you. Remembering every glide of his fingers. The shape of his lips. 

“Shame. I missed you,” he said. His lips tickled your ear and you moved your head away. Since his body covered every inch of you, there was no room for you to move. He dipped his head again, lightly brushing his lips along your neck.

“Fuck do you want from me, Kane?” You asked.

“Oh, it’s Kane again?” He asked. 

You rolled your neck. Getting angry only made him act more childish. He got off on seeing you squirm. You used to think it was charming. Now it was just annoying.

“What are you doing in Rome?” He asked.

“I could ask the same question,” you said.

“Following up on a lead. Heard there were some coins from Ancient Egypt on the market. Wanted to see if I could make a direct offer,” he said.

“By stealing it.” 

“If it came to that,” he said and huffed out a laugh. At least he was more open about his thievery. He was a man without honor and you had no patience for him. Not anymore. 

“What do you want?” You asked. 

David moved his hands, lower, searching your body. “What are you doing?” You asked.

“Trying to see if you got any weapons on you. I just wanna talk without the fear of you shooting me,” he said. His search was anything but friendly. He groped. He kneaded. He gripped your thighs with his massive hands and squeezed. A small moan escaped you before you could call it back. 

“Do you remember Miami?” He asked. 

You pressed your lips together while he finished his search. When you stopped giving him the response he wanted, he moved his fingers below your shirt. His fingers grazed your tummy, dancing over the edge of your pants. You shivered. 

Your pussy ached. It was freezing cold outside, but he was doing a damn good job blocking out the chill and warming you up. You melted into him as he unbuttoned your pants. “I remember how you looked when we first woke up. Sun hitting your back. The way your hair sparkled like embers of a fire.” 

You sighed. You shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t be entertaining this. “David…”

“You were the last thing I expected to find here tonight. But as soon as I recognized you, I couldn’t let you get away. I shouldn’t have let you go then and I can’t let you go now,” he said.

“You can’t hold onto me anymore,” you said. He once compared your relationship to holding water in the cup of his hand. He could hold it, for a second, believing that it would last. Then it would slip through his fingers. Water could not be contained, he told you. He told you a lot of things. A lot of useless shit. 

“Let me try, please,” he said. He unzipped your pants, pushing it lower off of your hips. You ground your ass into his crotch. His dick strained against his pants. He hissed, pulling back for a moment. 

“Say you don’t miss me and I’ll let you go,” he said.

“I don’t miss you,” you said. Your voice cracked. David’s long fingers played with the curls at the core of you. He bit your ear, dipping a finger into your wet heat and groaning as he made contact. 

“This pussy say otherwise,” he whispered in your ear. 

You were burning up inside your coat. Your head fell back against his chest, giving him better access to nibble and kiss on your neck. You opened your heavy eyelids and looked at him, bracketed by the stars above.

This would be hot at any other moment. You would have lived for stolen moments like this when you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other like a couple of young adults, fumbling and following after each other. Like you couldn’t quit each other. 

“You didn’t ask my pussy, you asked me.” 

“How long has it been? Have you been able to replace me yet?” He asked.

You huffed, refusing to allow him a full laugh. Fuck him. He knew fuck well that no one compared to him. No one compared to how he made you feel. You dropped your head forward. You couldn’t look at him and let him play with your body like no time had passed. If you didn’t look at him, you could pretend. 

“Yup. Sure did,” you said. The answer was sarcastic as hell. You didn’t care if his ego was inflated at the moment. It had been forever. And you needed the sweet fucking relief that didn’t come from your fingers for once. 

He swirled his fingers lazily through your essence, taking his time to make you tremble with need. 

“A lot has changed. I’ve changed. And I know you don’t forgive easily. But I need you to hear me,” he said. He pushed a finger inside and you groaned, not caring if he heard you now. You weren’t going to fall onto the sword of Pride like some martyr. You never denied yourself anything, least of all his deft fingers as he pumped them inside of you. 

Your thighs shook as you began to squirm. He moved his other hand up your shirt to cup your breast in his hand. He squeezed it, quickly finding your nipple and rubbing it between his fingers. You hissed, squeezing your legs against his hand to trap him there. 

You braced yourself against the building, the pads of your fingers seeking any kind of fissures to hold on to. Your nails scraped. 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned. His pace was steady but strong, driving you to the height of pleasure. 

David groaned behind you. He grinded into you, pushing your hips forward. Making you ride his fingers instead of sitting back and letting him do all the work. He mimicked stroking and moved against your hips with enough force that you could imagine it was his dick fucking you and not his fingers.

Fuck, you were so close. You began to whine, needing him to go faster. Go deeper. Do something.

“Fuckin’ missed this,” he groaned in your ear. 

You did too. 

You leaned up on your tip toes, tensing up and getting ready to cum. David slowed his fingers, pulling them out altogether. At the same moment, your sling bag was unbuckled from around your chest and the heat of David’s body was gone. 

“Motherfucker!” You screamed into the dark alleyway. There was no point following him. He was quicker to move around than you were. More adept at the surface world. He held maps in his head that you still needed help with. You relied too heavily on those stupid phones than your own sense of direction.

You punched the building and leaned your forehead against it. Of course he hadn’t changed. Of course he was after the knife. Of course he would confuse you with talks of memories and Miami. Giving you flowery poetry. Of course he left you unfulfilled like he always did. 

Greedy bastard. You got played. You jumped up, pulling your pants over your thick hips and zipping it back up. You could only laugh as you walked, uncomfortably wet, towards your bike. 

You weren’t going to panic. You had patience…sometimes. You hid a tracker in the lining of the bag, turned off for the time being. If you were David, the first thing you would do would be to search for bugs. You’d replace the bag as soon as you could, but that would have to come later. When you weren’t focused on getting away, not leaving a trail.

One thing about David was that he always had an exit plan. Always an escape. Two could play that game this time around. 

You made it to your motorcycle and unhooked the helmet that you secured to the front. You placed it over your head, throwing your leg over and straddling it. You started it up, letting the engine rumble between your legs. At least something got to rumble there tonight.

Game on David Kane, game on.

There shall be more! The Secret David Kane Files

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret David Kane Files #David Kane x Black!reader #David Kane x Black reader #x Black reader #David Kane x Fem!reader #David Kane x Fem reader #x Fem reader #David Kane x plus size reader #David Kane fanfic #David Kane fan fic #David Kane fanfiction #David Kane fan fiction #David Kane #Aquaman #Aquaman fanfic #Aquaman fan fic #Aquaman fan fiction #Aquaman fanfiction #yahya abdul mateen ii #yahya abdul mateen ii fanfic

[cherryc1nnam0n]

Another blurb with Eddie that we'll talk about

~•~

I imagine Eddie just having you pinned on the bed, thrusting into you hardly, your legs wrapped around his slutty little waist, that waist that moves so deliciously, hitting your g spot over and over again like a professional porn star

He grabs your face, animalistic grunts leaving his hot mouth as he presses his nose against your cheek, his tongue licking all the way up from your chest to your cheek, where he rests his nose again

"Eddie! That's nasty" you whined giggly at him

"Oh come on, you love it..." He panted "You got tighter when I did it"

You bit your lip, he caught you

"Okay yes I did, don't stop"

You loved the feeling of him marking you up and getting so riled up as to lick you even, his spit was all you wanted too

"Oh fuck gonna cum Eddie"

"Yeah? You gonna cum you fucking slut? Yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock?" He said thrusting harder into you, grabbing you by the neck with both hands, his head thrown back as he kept fucking you

"Oh fuck! Eddie!"

"Fuck!" He moaned cumming inside you, filling you with his hot cum "Good little slut" he chuckled at you

#eddie munson #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x you #boyfriend eddie munson #eddie munson x chubby reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x plus size reader #mmm fuck me david again #you didn't see that #you didnt see anything #eddie smut #nasty!eddiemunson #perv!eddie munson

[norrizzandpia]

Spencer Reid Masterlist

- Disclaimer! All of these are fem!reader

You Don’t Even Know What She looks Like?

Spencer’s girlfriend has always been mentioned. Never has the BAU team been shown a photo or given a small rundown of what she looks like. So, when Spencer announces that she’ll be visiting the office to bring him food on a late night, well, you can guess the chaos that ensues.

#criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x plus size reader #derek morgan #david rossi #aaron hotchner #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #penelope garcia

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

The Prettiest Star

i started writing this last night but finished it today so it’s kind of both Song-fic Saturday and Smutty Sunday for my 250 Followers Writing Event

Song-fic Saturday 🎶 song: The Prettiest Star by David Bowie

pairing: Sirius Black x plus size! reader 

tags / warnings: NSFW (minors do not interact!), smut, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, oral, p in v (unprotected — use condoms y’all, this is fantasy), fem!reader, plus size! reader, reader insecurities about her weight, body positivity, non-magical au (couldn’t have them just apparating out of the rain, right?)

notes: i’m a huge music fan and love Bowie and have been listening to Aladdin Sane a lot because it’s just had its 50th anniversary, so hence the song inspiration (“The Prettiest Star”)

word count: 8.1k (yike, please enjoy)

“Does this look too tight?” you ask Lily as you look at your reflection in your favourite jumper, tugging it down repeatedly. You’ve never been particularly thin, but you’d gained a noticeable amount recently, and it was increasingly making getting dressed the worst part of your day. “It looks fine, Y/N,” she says, a bit dismissively, then catches herself (and the look on your face), and adds, “Really. You look beautiful. Don’t ever let the scale tell you different,” giving you a warm smile. It was the “right” thing to say, perhaps, and you were grateful for what a sweet friend she always was to you, truly, but it didn’t make you feel any better. And… if you were brutally honest, it kind of annoyed you. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why, and the feeling made you feel guilty on top of everything else. After all, she hadn’t done anything wrong; in fact, she was just genuinely trying to help, or perhaps even just genuine in what she said. But somehow, when it came to any comments on your body — especially specifically about your weight, negative or positive, you grew irritable even more than uncomfortable. You felt as if no one understood the mix of self-consciousness and self-confidence that you felt. As if everyone projected either how they felt about themselves or how they assumed all fat people felt onto you. Worse, you felt that you could never express your true feelings to anyone. Even when you tried, things came out muddled, or things you said were directly contradictory — yet equally true. It couldn’t possibly be that no one else felt contradictory things about themselves, about their bodies, could it? Were you just shit at articulating your feelings, or were your feelings that atypical? 

You opt to keep the jumper on even though it hugged your chest a bit more tightly than usual. A twinge of regret went through you at the thought that usually winter was your favourite time in terms of fashion in general and your wardrobe specifically. You loved your winter clothes and winter aesthetics overall. You really didn’t want to let a little weight gain get in the way of that, but it had a way of making itself known no matter how much you tried to avoid it. 

On cue, it whispers in your head, “You probably only like winter clothes more because they cover more of you. None of those pretty sundresses Lily, Marlene, Mary, or Dorcas wear ever fit you. Not to mention any summer outfit that involves no bra or a visible bralette - not a chance.”  You shake your head at yourself, trying to convince yourself that comfort was a complicated thing, that you didn’t have to overanalyze everything in such an accusatory way.  

You finish getting ready and head to the pub with Lily to meet the others. Remus and James greet you, and James can’t say enough times how lovely Lily looks. It makes you happy for them, two of your best friends so in love, but you can’t help but feel a little funny, a little longing at the lack of those comments ever made about you. 

The thing is, you didn’t dislike yourself. In fact, there were many times you genuinely thought you were beautiful, or that you wouldn’t trade yourself for anyone else. But those thoughts came more easily when you were alone, and not wanting to be anyone else did not include not wanting to be yourself, minus a bit here or there. 

You feel a pair of arms come around your middle from behind you, and there’s no time to be freaked out because you immediately know who it is. It’s like a sixth sense. Sure, you recognize his intoxicating smell, can feel and hear the texture of his characteristic leather jacket, but there’s more to it. Before you even consciously register these things or hear him whisper in your ear, you know it’s him. Sirius. Your best friend in the entire world. “Hello, darling girl,” he greets.  “How is my finest friend on this finest of evenings?” 

“Hi, Siri,” you smile, leaning back into him. “I’m alright; you?” You turn your head up to look at him. “Just alright? Oh, we need to remedy that, love. Urgently.” He looks around a bit, registering your other friends, sharing greetings here and there. “D’you have a drink yet? Let’s go get one, yeah?” he asks, unwinding his arms from his hug but leaving one around your shoulders, where it stays as you walk over to the bar together. 

“You’re good then?” you ask again, giggling a bit - sometimes it was as if you couldn’t help it; his presence made you giddy. “Me? Oh, I’m wonderful. I’ve been having the greatest hair day, which is truly saying something, and now I’m with you,” he squeezes your shoulder a bit, “What else could I possibly ask for?” 

You roll your eyes, your smile never fading, wrap your arm around his waist, and say, “Two rum and cokes, maybe?” You nod toward the bartender. “You always have better luck getting their attention than I do. It’s like they only see the attractive girls, honestly.” 

Comments like these came easily to you when you were around people you trusted. It was strange; they weren’t really intended as self-deprecating. And you weren’t fishing for compliments either, especially not with your closest friends. Part of you wanted to be able to make comments like that freely, to not have to censor your thoughts and feelings when it came to your appearance, thinking that such things really shouldn’t be taboo in the first place, and especially not with people you loved. The other part, well, you weren’t so sure what the other part wanted. 

“You’re attractive,” Sirius responds, matter-of-factly, your heart rushing a little at the sound of it. You knew you had feelings for him, had for ages and had no use in denying it, but there was also the lack of pity in his comment. He never treated you as fragile; his voice never took on the tone of a motivational poster. “Maybe not to everyone,” he adds candidly, “but no one is attractive to everyone. And,” he pauses, looking down at you conspiratorially, “a lot of people have shit taste anyway.” He pauses again, considering you intently. Then something shifts in his expression, and he adds, speaking more quickly than before, “I mean, not everyone likes Bowie, for example. Bowie, Y/N, Bowie. Why should we ever put stock in what other people think if some of those people can’t see - or hear or whatever - beauty when it’s right in front of them?”

You grin but shoot back, “You’re attractive to everyone.”

Raising his eyebrows, looking straight into your eyes, he responds, “Does that include you then?” A careless group of girls bumping into you saves you from having to decide how much of a joking tone to put on your response. You didn’t find Sirius attractive. You found Sirius the most beautiful person you’d ever met, in senses that went far beyond his impeccable hair, his striking grey eyes, his pronounced cheekbones. 

He holds you closer protectively at the jostling crowd, turns to ask for your drinks, and begins absentmindedly stroking your shoulder as he does so. 

“No wonder you always wear this,” he says, pinching your jumper, “It’s so bloody soft.” 

You had no idea he ever remembered or even noticed what you wore. Marlene, sure. Marlene was making a statement every time she stepped out of the house. And her face and body punctuated that statement with a big exclamation mark. But you? You hardly ever got that kind of attention. Maybe a “nice shirt” when you wore a particularly fun pattern, but that was about it. 

You notice him looking at your torso as he says this and swear his eyes linger on your chest. You’re worrying he can tell it’s tighter than usual, so you tug at the hem, but when he looks quickly away, you try not to make too much of it. 

You’re having loads of fun with your friends, swapping stories, sharing shots, occasionally shouting the lyrics to the good songs that come on. You and Sirius — who’s standing next you, his arm perpetually around you, much to the dismay of the many girls and few guys who come flirting — have a habit of turning to each other every time a new song comes on, deciding in unison whether it’s a good or bad one. The very occasional disagreement yields the most fun arguments, always along the lines of “You think this isn’t rubbish? You’re making me question our entire friendship here, love. I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.” (Sirius) or “Oh, come on.  This sounds exactly like every other song in the genre but mediocre. Not everything has to be original, but it’d be nice if it weren’t typical and trash.” (You) 

Then some new Bowie comes on. And Sirius looks as though he’s just received the greatest news of his life. 

Cold fire, you’ve got everything but cold fire / You will be my rest and peace child, rings out Bowie’s electric voice. “Come dance with me!” Sirius bursts at you, hardly asking, dragging you by the hand to where a few (mostly quite drunk) people were dancing. He’s holding both your hands, and you’re moving together organically, falling into a languid rhythm with each other and the song. By the next line, Sirius is singing along, and as he sings with Bowie, “I moved up to take a place… Near you,” he shuffles closer to you seductively, looking nowhere but into your eyes as he places your hand on his shoulder and moves his own to your hip.

He’s theatrical with every lyric, each of which he knows by heart; “So tired,” he swoons; “It’s the sky that makes you feel tried,” he belts looking up toward the ceiling; “It’s a trick to make you see wide,” his eyes come back to yours, open wide and full of mirth; “It can all but break your heart…,” he steps closer to you again;  “… In pieces,” he swoons again, this time onto your shoulder, leaning on you and holding you close. You’re too busy laughing both with and at him to be able to sing along yourself.

“Staying back in your memory… Are the movies in the past,” he continues, acting less and dancing smoothly with you, spinning you around and catching you close afterward.

He’s staring into your eyes, his face very close to yours as he sings, much more softly now, swaying slowly more than dancing, “How you moved is all it takes… to sing a song of when I loved… the prettiest star.” His hands squeeze you as he says those last three words. 

He gives you another playful spin and goes on, “One day… though it might as well be someday… you and I will rise up all the way… all because of what you are…” Then, for the first time in the whole song, he and Bowie don’t synchronize. As Bowie finishes the line over the speakers, “the prettiest star,” you distinctly hear — and see, since his lips are so close to you after all — Sirius finish, “my prettiest star.” 

The rest of the world has all melted away by this point; all that’s left is Sirius; all you can hear is the song, his voice, your frantic heartbeat in your ears. His hand comes to your face, caressing your cheek then resting there.

You have no idea how to react. Sirius flirted with you often. But Sirius flirted with everyone often. It was just a quirk of his personality. And Sirius touched you often. But it was never this gentle, this intimate. You don’t want to get your hopes up. Because as much as — or perhaps because of how much — you love him, you can’t really believe he’d see you that way. You’ve let yourself entertain the idea many times, sure, even suspected from time to time over the years of your friendship that maybe just maybe your desire was mutual, but ultimately, your fears and doubts — doubled every time a girl half your size who could so easily be on any billboard flirted with Sirius — would win out and push those thoughts and feelings down. 

Your rhythmic swaying, your prolonged eye contact, your bursting heart and muddled mind continued through the end of the song. Though you knew it must have been about a minute and a half, it had felt like hours, time expanded by both bliss and trepidation, by the time the music changed and you broke apart. As you do, Sirius just watches you, as if searching for something. 

You’re fidgeting with the sleeves of your jumper when you whisper, “That was fun,” and give him a quick hug, not letting yourself linger and pulling back before his arms were comfortably around you.

You have plans with Sirius the next day, and as you’re getting ready, you can’t help but remember back to his comment on your jumper last night, more worried at your appearance now that you think he noticed it more than you did before. You’re standing in your room in just your underwear stressing out over what to wear. You’ve put on your best bra, the one that does the most to help your figure without being too uncomfortable, and you’ve made a mess of your knickers drawer looking for a clean pair of high-waisted ones. 

There was a time you would’ve avoided looking in the mirror at this stage, but now, you stand in front of it and give yourself a serious look. You suck your stomach in, and pull a bit with your hands on your hips, then let it all go, contemplating the difference. You turn to your profile, admiring the curves of your chest and your arse, but wishing there was less of your thighs immediately after. Arching your back and grabbing your arse, you wonder whether anyone — you close your eyes and admit to yourself: no, not anyone, Sirius — whether Sirius would find this, would find you attractive. As you take a deep breath, you lament how thinking of others’ opinions always made it so much harder to look at yourself with loving eyes. You didn’t hate your body, but your frequent worries that others would brought you down on more days than you wanted to admit. 

You put on your favorite jeans, but as you go to choose a top, you remember one you’d borrowed from Lily a few months ago that had looked good. It was quite loose on her and a bit tight on you, but you each pulled it off differently. You ask her for it, and she happily obliges, but when you put it on, a knot turns in your stomach. It’s way too tight. The pattern is stretched; your boobs look huge; it somehow brings out rather than covers the fat on your sides. Taking it off in a hurry, you have to take another long, calming breath to keep tears of frustration at bay. 

After finally finding something of yours that worked, giving the top back to Lily with a quick “Thanks, but it didn’t look as good as last time,” and giving yourself too many “final” glances in the mirror, you bundle up as you head into the windy afternoon.

You meet Sirius at the record shop near his flat. You see him before he sees you. He’s browsing the racks, and per usual, he looks effortlessly cool and unreasonably attractive. His long fingers are accentuated by his several silver rings as he flips through the records. He pushes his long hair out of his eyes in a careless gesture, and you’re almost angry at how it falls so perfectly he might as well have just spent an hour in front of a mirror. 

You’re approaching him when a cute girl in a hot crop top walks up to him. She steps closer to him than any normal interaction would warrant. “Anything I can help you find, handsome?” she asks, and you wonder whether you’re imagining the twinge of a double meaning in the question. Maybe she’s just a flirty person doing her job. “We have a few special ones in the stock room I could show you…” Nope, not just doing her job. “Thanks, sweetheart, but I’m waiting for someone.” As he looks away from her back toward the records, he catches you in his peripherals. He smiles a beaming smile at you and gestures you over. 

“You’re not going to believe what I found,” he begins enthusiastically. You hug; it lingers, and he squeezes you lovingly. “Mm, you smell nice,” he adds, as if it’s a normal thing to say. Is it a normal thing to say? Maybe it is. Maybe you’re overthinking, especially after the moment you shared last night.

“Thanks, new shampoo. What’d you find?” You look toward the records to ease the tension you were probably creating. 

“Check this out.” If he noticed any awkwardness, he definitely doesn’t show it. He pulls out a record you had recently had a long conversation about. 

“Brilliant!” you react, snatching it from him and turning it over in your hands, reading its contents eagerly. 

He chuckles at you, and if you’d been looking at him instead of the record, you might have seen the accompanying adoring look. 

“I know. It’s our lucky day.” 

You browse around the shop together, chatting easily, both about music and all sorts of random things that came to mind. Talking to Sirius is always easy, always gives you more than the contents of the conversation to hold onto, to fill you up. 

You go to pay, and the girl from earlier is working the till. Sirius goes to the loo, so it’s just you and her when you hand her a couple of records to ring up. 

“Cool choices.” “Thanks.” “Is that your boyfriend?” she asks, nodding behind her toward the toilets. 

“Oh, um,” you stutter. You’re not exactly sure why “no” doesn’t just easily come to your mouth. “I don’t know how you managed it. Lucky bitch,” she half laughs. You’re mortified; you can’t tell for sure, but you think she is trying to be friendly, just in a very strange record-shop-employee, rock and roll kind of way. 

Sirius comes back around, and you hope to hell he hasn’t heard anything. 

“All good, darling?” he asks, putting his arm around you. This wasn’t unusual for him, the nickname, the contact. But you’re already in an uncomfortable headspace, and your first thought is that you hope he isn’t doing it as an act for her benefit. You don’t even know if he’d heard, and your anxiety is taking over anyway. You keep running the woman’s words over in your head. How had she meant it? Did she mean she couldn’t believe you had managed it? As in specific, chubby, you? Or was she just making girly conversation? Would she have said the same to any woman, no matter how attractive, who had come into the shop with Sirius?  

“You alright?” Sirius’s voice breaks you out of your spiraling. You look over at him, and his gaze is gentle but concerned. 

“Yeah, fine, sorry,” you reply quickly. “It’s all good,” he smiles comfortingly at you. 

Once outside the shop, you debate your next move. Normally on weekends when you’d get records, you’d then go eat, then go to his and listen to some of them, sometimes sharing a blunt, sometimes just getting high on the music. 

You’re both looking up into the newly drizzling sky when Sirius says, “How about, we get take-away somewhere close, then just eat at mine? It looks like it’ll get worse soon, but I reckon we can make it before it really starts up.”

“Yeah, great.”

You’ve made it only a few blocks, though, when the rain pours down in sudden torrents. 

“Oh, shit!” he laughingly yells, protecting the records, taking your hand, and sprinting to the nearest protective awning. By the time you make it, you’re both already extremely wet, and the weather is so windy the cover hardly helps in keeping it from getting even worse. 

You’re squeezing as close to the wall as possible, standing chest to chest, the records between you, his arm around your waist, your faces close enough for you to see each individual drop as it travels down his face. His eyes match the sky behind him, and you silently marvel at his beauty. He looks up for a second then is overtaken by heartfelt laughter. 

“Didn’t quite gauge that one right, I guess,” he chuckles. You’re laughing with him when a particularly strong gust blows freezing water forcefully at you, making you gasp and stiffen. 

“Shit,” he laughs. “Let’s make a run for it.” He takes your hand again, and you both jog the few blocks to his flat. 

You’re both still giggly when you step inside, leaving a puddle in the doorway where you stand. You take off your shoes and outer layers, but you’re drenched all the way through. 

“Bloody hell, it’s freezing,” he amusedly complains, stripping down to only his jeans, leaving his clothes in a pile by the door. He hugs himself and rubs his arms, trying to warm up, and you’re glad your soaked demeanour is already such a mess he probably can’t tell how flustered you are by how attractive — and bare — he is. He reaches over to you and rubs your arms like he had been doing his. “Fuck, you’re freezing too. Come to my room, and I’ll lend you something to wear.” Your giddy mood dissipates immediately. There was no way in hell his clothes would fit you. He was obviously leaner than you, and your hips and thighs hadn’t gotten along well with men’s clothes even in your thinnest of states. He’s halfway to his room already, and you’re frozen by the door. “Y/N?” 

You look over. You hope he doesn’t notice your eyes quickly travel his bare torso. “You coming or what?” he keeps on casually. When you get to his room, he’s bringing some towels out of the bathroom and throws you one. You start drying your hair as he rummages in his drawers. “Um,” you start. You sound more nervous than you mean to. He clearly notices because he immediately turns back to look at you to see what’s going on. “What is it?”

 You hate worrying him like this, especially over something so stupid. Why did you always have to make things uncomfortable? Or better yet, why couldn’t you just be a girl who would fit in his clothes. “Hey, what is it?” he repeats, gentler this time, coming over to rest his hands on your shoulders. Your self-deprecating, cruel inner monologue is clearly showing more than you’d hope. “You alright, love?” “Yeah, no, I’m fine, sorry,” you try to laugh it off. “Don’t apologise.” It’s gentle, not scolding. “Just talk to me.” His hands continue rubbing your shoulders lovingly. “Just that I think I’m fine like this is all. Don’t worry about finding stuff for me,” you try. “Don’t be ridiculous; you’ll freeze to death. It’s fine; I don’t mind.” He goes back toward his dresser.

Ugh, how do you say “It’s not about your minding, actually. It’s about my stretching and ruining anything you could possibly lend me” without sounding weird and embarrassing? 

“Thanks. Um, I’m not quite sure anything of yours would fit me though.” “We’ll find something,” he says relaxedly, opening another drawer. “Here, this one is really warm and comfy, and it’ll definitely fit,” he says, tossing you a sweatshirt. You recognize it, have seen him wearing it before. He only ever wore it while lounging at home, and it was quite big on him, so maybe it would be okay. 

“And… uh,” he rummages, “try these. They’re a bit small, but they’re stretchy.” He hands you a pair of sweatpants. You’ve never seen him wear these. They would probably be too big on him. He grabs his towel and some clothes for himself. 

“I’ll go change in the living room. Just come out when you’re ready. Grab whatever you want.” His tone is friendly, at ease. Unlike your feelings. You are freaking out. As soon as he closes the door, you strip down to your knickers, which thankfully aren’t very wet, at top speed, thinking you should hurry in case it takes you time to figure out the clothes. You don’t want to take too long and make things awkward. You towel yourself off and slip on the sweatshirt. It fits fine. It isn’t loose like it is on him, but it doesn’t look too weird. And it is indeed warm and comfy. Now for the more concerning part: you try pulling the pants on, a repeating “please, please, please” playing in your head. Fuck. No luck. They stop a bit above your mid-thigh, and there is no way you’d be able to pull them all the way up. You think of putting your jeans back on, but they are drenched, and it would’ve been like trying to get back into a heavy straight-jacket. You start panicking, unsure what to do, already worrying you are taking too long to come out. You look through his drawers, but all his other bottoms look even smaller. You try just wrapping the towel around your hips, but you look quite strange in the mirror. 

You’re pacing in his room when he knocks. “Y/N? You alright? No rush, really, just making sure everything’s okay?”

You brace yourself, go to the door, and crack it open, hiding your body behind it, just popping your head around. He’s standing there, his wet hair half tied up, a dry t-shirt and sweats on. 

“Um… the sweatpants don’t fit,” you whisper, embarrassed. 

“Oh. Uh, that’s okay. Um, how about…,” he looks around, as if bigger pants would magically materialise somewhere in his living room. “Oh, perfect.” What could possibly be perfect right now? “Your favourite blanket is already on the sofa. How about I turn around, and you can just go get under it, and I’ll hang your trousers on my heater.” 

You nod timidly, the warmth in your cheeks from your embarrassment blazing even hotter at the thought of how sweet he always is to you. 

“Great. Uh, ok,” he chuckles, awkwardly turning around. You scamper to his sofa in your underwear, quickly covering your legs with his big cosy blanket. 

“Ok,” you let out softly. He turns around and looks you over. You can’t tell what’s in his eyes as he does so, but there is an intensity there that you’re not used to. He blinks quickly and gives you a strange, strained smile. He disappears into his room, and you hear him sorting your clothes out to dry. 

You’re fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweatshirt when he returns. 

“You alright? Comfortable?” he asks, seemingly back to normal.

“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, I didn’t meat to, uh, well, sorry I’m a bit difficult,” you reply a bit awkwardly, not knowing what exactly to apologise for but feeling the need to. “Don’t be ridiculous, love. You have nothing to be sorry for. Really. If you’re okay like this, then we’re all good, right?” You can’t help but worry what will happen as soon as you have to get up. Would you wrap the blanket around yourself like a weirdo?  As if reading your thoughts, Sirius goes on playfully, “I’ll wait on you like royalty so you don’t even have to get up.”  You make an odd half laugh, half relieved exhale sound in response, and he just chuckles. “Starting with…” he fast walks over to the door, grabs the bag of records and brings it back over to the sofa, sitting next to you but not getting under the same blanket like he usually does. “Which do you want to listen to first?” he asks, bringing them all out to look at together. 

As soon as you started discussing it, it’s like waking up from a nightmare, realising all is well and returning to a calm normality. You debate and joke, decide on a record, and he gets up to put it on and make some tea, still chatting casually to you throughout. 

When he’s back on the sofa with you, he looks down, smiles, and says, “Looks better on you than on me.” You tug on the sweatshirt self-consciously, smiling shyly at him.  You fall into your easy rhythm, listening, talking, laughing, and before you knew it, the whole record’s played. Sirius gets up, walking toward his collection rather than the small stack of new records on the table. He picks one easily, and puts it on. The quirky piano of Bowie’s “Time” begins, and your heart speeds up. You love this album. So does Sirius. But this isn’t the first track. It’s the first track on the B-side, and the next song after this, you remember, is “The Prettiest Star,” the song you and Sirius danced to just last night. He doesn’t say anything until he’s seated next to you again. “I know we usually listen from the beginning, but the B-side is better on this one, and I didn’t feel like being patient.” His tone is playful, but there’s a heaviness to it. He glances away from you and leans toward the table to take a sip of his tea. 

“What’s your favourite track?” you ask, smiling. You’ve asked him this question innumerable times over the years, but you’ve never been as excited for his answer as this time, and you have a feeling you know what it’ll be. 

“‘The Prettiest Star,’” he replies immediately, looking toward you again. As quickly as he had, he looks away again as he adds, “Because it reminds me of you… even before last night…” After a beat, he ventures a glance toward you, that same searching look from last night taking over his beautiful features.

Unlike last night, you don’t feel panicked — nervous, sure, but more than that, loved. “Last night felt pretty special,” you say. “Yeah?” He seems hopeful. “Yeah, it was.” His voice is serene, like he’s contemplating something utterly peaceful. “It’s funny, though,” you say, and he looks at you, his eyebrow quirked. “It’s really about you, isn’t it? Not me.” You laugh. He looks like he wants to laugh with you, a twinkle in his eye, clearly happy that you are happy, but confusion holds his expression. You explain, “Well, you’re ‘the prettiest star,’ aren’t you? You’re obviously prettier, the prettiest… and the brightest in the night sky in fact… ‘Sirius.’” You say his name with all the love you feel for him.

He leans toward you, taking your hand. He’s smiling, but there’s a sadness to it. 

“You might not be named for a star, but you’re my prettiest star, Y/N.” He looks into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”  His eyes scan your face. “It’s almost too bright to bear sometimes, to be honest, your beauty,” he adds, smiling more vividly now. He brings his other hand to your face, just as he did last night. But this time, his fingertips begin by taking their time tracing your features: your eyebrow first, your nose, your cheekbone, down to your jaw. His thumb grazes your lip, barely touching it but lingering there, before moving to caress you cheek. “You’re so beautiful, my prettiest star,” he repeats, as the song begins in the background. 

“Sirius,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. 

“Darling girl,” he responds, moving closer to you until your foreheads meet. Your nose nuzzles his, and you stay like this for several seconds. You bring your hand to the crook of his neck, and holding him, you lean forward. The song goes silent, the intro ending, the anticipation built, and right as Bowie’s voice comes in, your lips meet. 

Sirius’s hand slips from the side of your face to the back of your head, holding you firmly, leaning into you hungrily. His hand holding yours goes to your waist, pulling you close to him until your chest is flush with his. You wrap your arms around his neck and slip your fingers into his hair. 

He moans into your mouth, and you deepen the kiss, pushing his tongue with yours, breaching into his mouth. He lets you, and as you explore him, he pulls your body until you find yourself kneeling on the sofa in front of him, the blanket fallen to the floor. 

You pull back momentarily, and he stills his movements, watching you, waiting for your cue for what to do next. His eyes are lidded, his pupils blown, his lips parted, but you know that if you sat back down and told him you just wanted to listen to the record, that’s exactly what he’d do. But that’s not what you want. So, you lean forward and pick up your exploration right where you left it. He groans appreciatively and sucks on your tongue in his mouth, before pulling you on top of him. 

You’re straddling him, and you’re so attracted to him you’re drowning in it, but even still, your nerves are there. You feel heavy. Too heavy to be sitting on top of him like this. He keeps his hands on your waist and strokes your back, not venturing any further down, pulling back to look at you. You shift clumsily, trying to put more of your weight on your knees on the sofa, but not being able to without spreading awkwardly wider or ending up lopsided. He holds you firmly, centering you again, hugging you close. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” you whisper, trying to explain what he’s already figured out. 

He can’t help the chuckle that escapes him before he says, “Trust me, darling, I’m about as far form uncomfortable as a person can be right now.” He squeezes you lovingly, clearly careful to squeeze all of you and not just any specific place, which might make you uncomfortable. “I’ve been going absolutely mental this whole time just knowing you weren’t wearing anything but your knickers under that blanket.” 

“You have?” you ask, surprised, your eyes wide, your voice soft. He giggles again, always adoring, never mocking. “Fuck, how can someone be so adorable and so sexy at the same time?” It baffles you how someone can say the word “sexy” so seriously and not sound silly at all, give it so much confidence that it just sounds so, well, so sexy. He pecks your lips. “You’re going to kill me, woman.” Now you laugh. 

“Oh?” “Mm,” he groans affirmatively as he runs his hands up your sides and back and kisses you ardently. He moves to your jaw, kissing languidly down to your ear, where he nips playfully and sucks on your neck another moment before looking into your eyes again and saying, “Fuck, Y/N, tell me you want this too.” A kiss. “I’m desperate for you.” Another kiss. “But only if you want me too.” Another kiss, longer this time. “I want to make you feel good, darling. Fuck, I can make you feel so so good.” Your hips grind down on his at his words, and he throws his head back in a lustful groan, and his hands squeeze you tightly where they hold you. He recovers, stroking your back again and resting his forehead on yours as he asks, “Can I touch you, Y/N? I’ll stop anytime you say so, but I’m dying to worship you.” You kiss him deeply, holding him close, grinding your hips down again. “I want you to touch me, Siri.” At this, his mouth immediately devours yours, and his hands come down to squeeze your arse. He kneads it roughly, pulling you into him with each motion, inadvertently pushing his hips up a bit each time to meet yours. You feel the hard, evident bulge in his pants underneath you, and it turns you on even more to feel wanted in such a visceral way. There is no missing how much his body wants yours, and that surprises but arouses you to no end.

His hands come down to your thighs, and you gasp and stiffen a bit. He stops but leaves his hand there, stroking you cautiously. 

“Y/N?” He bumps your nose with his. “I…” You peck his lips. “You really don’t mind my body?” you ask, your voice small. 

“Darling,” he breaks a little. “Mind it? I adore it. Can’t you feel what you do to me?” he half jokes, thrusting up into you. You close your eyes and bite your lower lip at the addictive friction. “Y/N. Look at me, love,” he whispers. You do. “I think you are the most gorgeous, sexiest woman in the world. Of course it’s all intertwined with how much I love you, but that just makes it even better. God, you have no idea how much you turn me on.” He kisses you short but hard. “I never want to tell you how to feel, love, but I just wish you knew how beautiful you are, how you are the most beautiful to me.” You kiss him again and become immersed in it fully. Your tongues are dancing with each other, your hips, your hands, moving in tandem with each other, melting into each other in a perfect push and pull. 

His hands slip under his sweatshirt, and he whispers, “Can I?” You don’t hesitate, entrusting yourself to him, and detaching yourself from him only enough for him to slip it over your head. His hands come to your breasts, and you hear him say “fuck” again as he kneads them and keeps kissing you. His hands keep massaging as his mouth moves down your jaw wetly. He takes his time moving down your body, sucking your neck, licking across your sternum, kissing delicately down to between your breasts. He buries his face there and moans, and it’s so hot you pull him to you and scratch his scalp where you’re holding him by his hair. He kisses there again then his fingers move to pinch your nipples. He mixes pulling it with massaging your whole breast with one hand, but the other just grips your tit as his mouth wraps around your nipple. His tongue licks around it a few times before he sucks on it, and his groan is drowned out by your pleasured yell. 

“Fuck, Sirius,” you say, your voice a rasp. 

“Mmm,” he responds, not letting up, switching breasts after sucking a bit harder. Once he’s satisfied (for now) and your nipples are hard and sore, he grips your tits again with his hands and licks into your mouth. 

“Fuck, baby, you have the most incredible tits.” He squeezes them. “You have no idea how many times I’ve dreamt of taking your shirt off and touching you.” He goes back down and gives each a quick but delicious suck. “Let’s go to my bed, yeah?” You nod heatedly. 

You’re a bit self-conscious as you move to get off of him, more aware of your body beyond the pleasure again though you had been so lost in it just a moment ago you’d forgotten about everything else. Sirius helps you off and up, his hands on your hips, and he pulls you into him as you both stand, making out with you before squeezing your arse as he pulls away to walk to his bedroom. You wrap your arms around yourself  as you walk with him, but when you’re standing in front of the bed, he takes each of your hands in his and kisses you while holding them, bringing his body flush with yours. You break the contact to pull on his shirt, and he eagerly obliges, removing it and tossing it aside. 

He guides you onto the bed, his body following on top of yours, your mouths connected the whole time. You shuffle up the bed then tug his sweats down when you’re settled. He helps you, shimmying out of them. They get caught on one of his ankles, and you both laugh as he curses and contorts awkwardly to pull them all the way off. 

You’re both left only in your underwear as he starts kissing you again, slowly making his way down your body. He spends a lingering amount of time on your tits again as he goes down then keeps kissing down your stomach to the waistband of your knickers. He looks up at you for any hesitation, but you just bite your lip and lift your hips. He smirks in excitement as he pulls your panties off of you. He does it slowly, teasingly, and he licks down your thigh tracing where the fabric passes. Once they’re off, he pushes your knees a bit further apart and starts kissing and licking his way back up. He sucks at the top of your thigh, and it makes a pop as he separates from you. 

Kneeling between your legs, massaging your thighs on either side of him, he says, “You drive me mad, Y/N. You’re so fucking delicious, I could spend eternity between these thighs.” You squirm at his graphic words, already exceptionally strung out. He chuckles lowly down at you and kisses you quickly before adjusting himself with his head between your thighs. 

“Today really is my lucky day,” he says, face lined up with your cunt. “This is the second time I see you drenched today, and I fucking love being the cause of it this time.” Without further ado, he licks a sopping stripe from your entrance up to your clit.  Even this first motion sounds wet. You’re sure you’ve never been so wet in your life. 

Sirius buries his face in your cunt, groaning as he licks into you then sucks on your lips. He goes back and forth between sucking on you and fucking you with his tongue. He keeps playing with you until you’re squirming before bringing his mouth directly to your clit. He’d grazed it as he licked you before now, bumped you with his nose, teasing you, but now he gives it his full attention. He’s licking and sucking, moaning all the while like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever eaten, moving his whole body with the passion of it, and it takes very little more for you to start cumming on his mouth. You make a yelping sound you’ve never made before in your ecstasy, and with your eyes closed, you feel as if the world is a million miles away; all you feel is your body and where it is connected to Sirius’s.  He keeps up his motions and fervor until your pleasured squirming turns into overstimulation squirming. He gives you one last lick and suck then shuffles up your body, kissing it intermittently as he does, until he’s face to face with you, smiling a smile you’ve never seen before. 

“Hello, darling,” he says, clearly satisfied with himself, kissing you.

“Hi,” you sigh, sounding completely fucked out. He giggles at you and kisses you again. 

“Feel good?” 

“Mmhhmm.” You stretch underneath him and languidly wrap your arms around him, licking his lips slowly before kissing him again. 

“Fuck,” he responds. 

“Yes, please.” Your voice is high, blissful. You rut up into him. He chuckles at you and strokes your hairline, kissing your forehead. 

“You want to? You’re alright?” “Of course, Siri. I’m brilliant.” “That you are, my love,” he beams at you then pushes his pants off. “My prettiest star,” he says, as he pecks your lips then your nose then lines himself up with your entrance. 

His eyes penetrate yours as he pushes into you. You moan in unison, and his mouth lingers just above yours, grazing your lips, your foreheads touching, as he slowly pushes deeper and deeper. When he bottoms out, he kisses you eagerly, stroking his tongue into your mouth as his cock ruts deep inside you. Your hands grip his back. His hands come down to your thighs one at a time, squeezing passionately before pushing your legs up and out, wrapping them around his waist. 

Normally, you’d feel self-conscious in this position. Almost bent in half, your stomach protrudes between the two of you. Your thighs are thick at his sides. But the look on his face, the feel of the movements of his body is all love and adoration and ardor. 

He kisses you as he thrusts a bit harder, keeping it slow at first but vigorously punctuating each thrust. One of his hands rests beside you, holding him up, but the other stayed on your leg, stroking your thigh and gripping your arse or hip bruisingly with each forceful motion of his hips.  

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, “You’re fucking perfect.” He thrusts hard, a gentle kiss on your forehead contrasting it seductively, then begins picking up his pace. He rests his face in the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking on it as he pounds repeatedly into you. 

You’re gripping him tightly to stay in position, your arms and legs tense around him. You can’t move much, but his movements are enough for the both of you, especially as he brings his knees up a bit to get a new angle. He’s hitting your spot with almost every thrust, and you’re whining in pleasure in time with each. You squeeze hard around him, not just your arms and legs but the soft walls around his cock as well, and he groans animalistically into your skin. His hips stutter in response, but a moment later he’s pounding rhythmically again. 

His breathing gets heavier, his muscles tighter, and with a broken gasp, he shifts sideways a bit to snake his hand between you to where you’re connected. He rubs harshly on your clit, not bothering to start slow, clearly aware he doesn’t have time for that. His hips piston even faster; his hand presses harder, and a few seconds later, you feel fit to burst. You let out a yell as you release around him, the most intense orgasm of your life making you see white stars. 

“Sirius,” you half yell, half sigh. “I’m gonna cum, baby. Fuck, fuck. Where do you want me to?” he rushes out, his hips still moving fast in and out of you. You tighten your legs around him, and clench your cunt, pulling him into you. “Inside, Siri. Cum in me.” His immediate groan sounds strangled as you feel the warmth of him inside you. The words “cold fire” play in your mind. He thrusts a few more times then goes limp on top of you, panting loudly, kissing your neck and cheek between heavy breaths. 

He rolls off but stays close, never fully breaking contact with you, and he wraps his arm around your waist, lightly stroking your back, as you both lie on your sides facing each other. You feel the urge to cover yourself up but resist it, trying to melt into the vulnerability. The utter adoration in his eyes when you look into them helps. 

“I love you,” you whisper. He smiles a smile that makes his stormy eyes shine, leans in, and kisses you tenderly. 

“And I love you,” he says matter-of-factly, his voice smooth and sappy. 

You pause, contemplating, reveling in the joy of the moment but unable to ignore a tug in your stomach. “I’m sorry I was too… I don’t know, scared? to really show you before.”

“Don’t be, darling. I’m sorry I waited so long to really show you too, but I’m even more sorry if I ever made you doubt how much I do, how loved you are.” “You didn’t.” You shake your head then nuzzle his nose with yours. “I just sometimes didn’t understand. It’s confusing, how someone like you can love someone like me so much.” “Darling. It’s the least confusing thing in the world. You’re the most beautiful person I know. In all kinds of ways. And I’ll show you every day you’ll have me; you’ll see it clearly too; I’m sure of it. I’m just worried when you do, you’ll realise the real wonder is you loving me.” He laughs a bit, but you can hear the truth to his concern, his own insecurities surfacing. 

You stroke his cheek, kiss him, and say, “We’ll both keep showing each other then. For always.” His smile is subtle, full of love. 

He nods, kisses you again, pulls you into his body, and, hugging you close, repeats, “For always.” 

P.S. notes: I try to keep my reader character inclusive, and this is a bit more specific than I usually do. I just want to acknowledge that everyone relates to their bodies, especially if they’re bigger, in different ways, and I in no way think of anything I write as a generalized take on being plus sized (or any other experience really). These are just things that I have felt in my life, and it has always meant a lot to me to see and hear stories about bigger characters, both when attention is brought to that specific aspect about them and when it isn’t. So, this is my way of adding to that and to write something for myself in that vein. 

#marauders #marauder x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black one shot #smut #fluff #angst #friends to lovers #plus size!reader #fem!reader #reader insert #david bowie #ria250 #fanfiction

[ironmansnips]

i wanna see the bau team with a Marten Riggs type reader

realistically they'd take it very seriously but that's boring so we're ditching that idea

like in the first episode of lethal weapons he walks into the hostage situation with a fuckin pizza

the team looks away for maybe 5 minutes tops and suddenly you've gone off skipping your way twords the homicidal maniac carrying a goddamned thin crust pepperoni pizza

⏬Marten Riggs clips on YouTube ⏬

they're so fucking funny you gotta watch them😭

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https://youtu.be/HEpJD7VsM00

https://youtu.be/K0lgyf6uuDU

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they p a n i c

for shits and giggles let's say that you're a newbie

a probie if you will

so they're not close to you yet but they still don't wanna see you get murdered lmao

istg Reid nearly faints when you pull the gun closer to your head

or when you walk into that warehouse whistling Andy Griffith?

his skin paled so much it could've rivald Casper the friendly ghosts

Garcia loves you but threatens your life regularly

stop putting yourself in life threatening situations when you don't have to you little shit👺

they don't let you talk to mentally unstable unsubs cause your sarcasm would escalate the situation 🤷🏻‍♀️

let's be honest Reids in love with you☠️

an enemies to lovers perhaps?👀

fr tho mans a simp for you

listen this is very self indulgent so i'm imagining the reader has brightly hair and is goth punk and like 19😗

(i'm almost 18 and i hate it 💩)

this is the early seasons btw so Reid is like 24

since you're so young dad! hotch mode is not activated 🥺

Gideon thinks you're a cool kid

and in the newer seasons with Rossi he fuckin loves you man

he treats you like your his own kid

they scold the holy hell out of you when you pull that shit

like hotch has put you on desk duty and threatened to take away your badge

but you're really good at your job ig cause you still got it ☠️

Derek is literally your older brother

like you guys had sibling arguments all the time lmao

he'd die for you tho

they all would

jj is like your older sister

she gives the best advice fr

and Emily would do anything for you she loves you so much

you're like her kid 🥺

if you're anything like me and say dude, bro, and man religiously you're gonna get the hotchner glare 😵

like no he's sir or hotch thanks very much

Rossi thinks it's hilarious

until you hit him with a "bro"

then you get a Rossi stare down

Derek just lifts a perfect brow at the name of " endearment "

also! his eyebrows look just like this thing ~

like you guys see it too right?😭

this is getting too long i might post on it again later tho

i haven't gone back over it so it probably doesn't make sense lmao

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #Spencer Reid x reader #Arron hotchner x reader #Penelope Garcia x reader #jj x reader #Emily prentiss x reader #david rossi x reader #jason gideon x reader #gender neutral reader #plus size reader

[morvantmortuary]

seth sunday dating hcs -

Or, you’re ignoring the odd feeling in the pit of your stomach to date the magician who dresses like a goth ringleader. samesies tbh

(18+, mdni)

as always, an epigram:

“Well, what tongue does the wind talk? What nationality is a storm? What country do rains come from? What color is lightning? Where does thunder go when it dies?” - Something Wicked This Way Comes, Ray Bradbury

First thing’s first: Seth is a flirt. A huge flirt. Partially bc he enjoys the reciprocal attention (he enjoys attention of any sort), but also because when he likes someone, he fixates on them

(It’s a bit of a chicken/egg situation - does They Who attract people who are prone to fixation to do their bidding, or do the people under their thumb develop these tendencies as a side effect? Who’s to say.)

-

He tends to be a bit over the top in his courting, even by Morvant standards. Think deep red long-stemmed rose bouquets sent to your place of work. The classic heart-shaped box of chocolates, but almost absurdly large. Early on, they might not be too tailored to you, specifically — more generally understood symbols of romance. He’s still a believer in the classic and the glamorous, drawing on memories of the old Hollywood romances that captivated him in his human days youth.

All those early dates, though, will feel like he’s just looking for excuses to sit and talk to you for ages. Because he is!! Whether that’s over dinner at a luxurious restaurant you might not normally consider an option, or hot drinks at a charming little cafe. Expect long, meandering conversations about everything going on in your life, with him seeming fascinated by details that seem fairly mundane to you.

And the even weirder thing is, he’ll remember them all, well past you’d expect anyone to care.

You can’t help but notice though that whenever you try to talk to him about his own life - his family, where he was from - he would only ever talk about his various stints in traveling shows. He has stories galore, wild and weird, but nothing that feels… like the basic things you get to know about someone. The little things.

For someone who makes his living performing, it surprises you how soft-spoken he is. His voice, despite his appearance, is always light, gentle. You’re surprised how quiet he is at times, and find yourself instinctively closing the space between the pair of you to catch his every word. He mirrors this when you speak in turn, sitting only just far enough away to still be considered appropriate, his black eyes moving constantly between your lips and your eyes, as though he’s trying to keep up with both at all times. It’s enough to make you a little flustered every so often, especially when his fingers or his knees brush against yours.

When he does get to know you, expect the later dates to be flashy in a different way.

Expect behind the scenes tours of museum exhibits in surrounding cities related to something that makes you tick, some before the exhibit even goes public. Intimate art house performances, centered around themes he knows make your brain itch in the best way, all in little theaters in the local scene that you wouldn’t have been to until now.

Parties and dinners with creative, interesting people he seems to know from a vast and varied life, in which you’re both fascinated by the conversation, and apparently somewhat of a showpiece yourself, as he shamelessly introduces you to everyone with the air of someone who stumbled upon a magnificent secret.

From what little tidbits you’re able to pick up from his colleagues and friends, you get the feeling that Seth has been in creative scenes all over the world, and for what feels like an awfully long time for his age. Or at least, what you’re pretty sure is his age. His world feels huge to you, and still undefined — even the people he’s known for ages don’t know that much about him, it seems, or as much as you’d think.

You can’t tell if he’s rich and hides it well or just somehow absurdly well-connected, but he seems to know someone wherever the pair of you go, always running into a collaborator from a past project, or always seems to have a friend who can get tickets or an inside scoop to whatever fun thing you’re interested in.

The man always dresses to the nines, wherever you’re going. Mostly black, in sumptuous fabrics, but with the occasional accent of something eye-catching: patterns like Peacock feathers, or a splash of Big Top red. He always looks fantastic, and unmistakably eye-catching, ever the consummate showman. He’s not afraid of makeup, either, with his eyes usually lined in kohl and his nails painted in jewel tones. As much as he stands out, he’s unquestionably handsome in a way that reminds you of a storm.

You can’t deny the tiniest bit of exhilaration when you realize that even though everyone around the pair of you is looking at him, he’s only looking at you.

When the two of you have been going out long enough that it’s comfortable, he makes it clear that he has no issues with the idea of PDA. He always keeps his arm around your shoulders or waist, or wants to keep your hand in his (which is always surprisingly cold, like, to the point that you wonder if he’s seen a doctor about it).

He’s not shy about kisses - nothing too obnoxious, but cheek kisses, kisses to the top of your head, the corner of your mouth, et al are definitely not rare. Neither are kisses to the back of your hand, the inside of your wrist, even your neck if he thinks he can get away with it. He’ll ease up a bit if he ever embarrasses you, but it’s like he wants to transmit to you as obviously as possible when he’s absolutely smitten with you.

He is genuinely smitten with you, by the way. Because he’s absolutely making up for affection he never received himself, and this is just how he knows to make it clear. It’s not a performance out of dishonesty, but out of eagerness, and not being sure how else “real” people show it.

The man doesn’t quite seem to understand the idea of a chill date. He always wants to seem to show you a good time, take you somewhere and show you something you’ve never seen before, or treat you to something indulgent and extravagant. When you ask one night if he wants to stay in, he almost seems caught off-guard.

He demurs immediately when you ask about hanging out at his place. “I live out of hotels for work,” he says, with a smile and an unusually sheepish shrug. “I’m in a nice one right now, but still. Not quite the mood you’re looking for, certainly.”

So when you tell him to show up to your place with some movie suggestions and you’ll order dinner in, you’re not quite sure what to expect when you open the door.

 …It probably wasn’t the vintage velvet smoking jacket over the most elegant looking silk lounge set you’ve ever seen in your life. But you also couldn’t picture him just being a guy in sweats from a big box chain, either.

But he’s there and positively beaming, with aubergine-colored eyeliner to coordinate. “I never get to wear these anywhere! How fun!”

...Are those satin slippers?

He immediately settles himself on your couch like he’s been there forever and pulls a bottle of wine that’s just the right level of cheap from a bag you didn’t notice him holding, as well as a variety of candy. (You can’t help but notice the man has a sweet tooth - you’ve never seen him say no to dessert.) “I thought we could use my Criterion login; I just couldn’t decide, you know? I wanted you to choose what felt the most ‘date night’ to you.”

Somehow it doesn’t surprise you that all his favorites are either black and white or from the very, very beginning of color film. The big Hollywood spectacles from the early days of film, with musical numbers and elaborate costumes and choreography to beat all.

He keeps his arm around you the whole time, not even hesitating. When he laughs at the old-fashioned banter in the transatlantic accents, it’s high, sweet. Almost childlike in the earnestness of it.

You’re willing to wait until the end of the movie, out of respect (and genuine interest, you really had never seen it before), before you jump his bones.

Yes, the part you’ve been waiting for:

If he’s captivating at a distance, up close, he’s a force of nature. He’s beautiful in a way that twists your stomach in excited knots. His eyes are fathomless — you look into them too long and you feel like your feet aren’t on solid ground anymore.

If you thought he was affectionate before, he’s even more possessive this close together. He already towers over you just standing next to each other, and he leverages this height now when he’s got you under him as a way of caging you, keeping you against the bare expanse of his chest (which is also troublingly cool, you distantly wonder while he’s taking off your shirt like it’s wrapping paper if he’s going to talk to a doctor about that—)

But you’re quickly forgetting anything else as his tongue skims your pulse, hot and hungry and blatant.

His mouth is everywhere on your torso, like he’s sampling you, trying to gauge the places that will make you shiver most. He’s good at watching you, lingering in the places that make you sigh or stifle a moan, his touch like sleight of hand in how he seems to know to set your skin aglow before you’re both even totally undressed.

Once you’ve both established a degree of trust to go further, he can’t help but get a little overexcited. He’s not shy about manhandling you where he wants you, but will just as easily fall under you, his eyes fathomless black and hungry as he watches to see how you’ll touch him.

The man’s a demon in bed, but the agony is only the kind you don’t want to end.

If at times his fingers seem somehow longer than you thought as they slide in and out of you, messy and noisy, or his tongue seems not-quite-human in how it delves deeper than you would’ve thought possible to make you scream — you don’t worry about it too long. You can’t really keep a clear train of thought right now, anyway.

If the name of God tries to pass your lips, even as only as a reflex, an interjection, it always seems to dissolve into a gasp or moan before it can actually reach the air. You don’t worry about that either.

He’s packing, but it’s not too far out of the ordinary… how he uses it inside you, however. That’s the thing that feels nearly supernatural. For seeming so sweet and smitten when the two of you are together, it’s nearly brutal in just how far he manages to push you before you finally come each time.

You swear you’re not going to have a voice in the morning when he’s done with you.

And of course, when he’s finished with you and you’re not quite able to be certain your thighs will hold you up (so covered in hickies as they are), he’s happy to take you to your room and clean you up.

You fall asleep in his silk pajama top, resting on his chest, as he pretends to doze underneath you.

You’re dead to the world when he seems to vanish underneath you at 3 AM. When lays down with you again a couple hours later, he feigns having just come from the bathroom, kissing each of your heavy eyelids as he holds you close again.

You think you’re dreaming when he smells faintly of smoke and a chemical you can’t quite name.

When you wake up for real, he’s waiting in your kitchen with your favorite little coffee drink and some pastries from an expensive little shop, perusing a story in the paper about a fire at the mortuary on the edge of your little hometown.

He greets you with that same enchanted smile, like you’re the most interesting person he could hope to talk to today, and sets the paper aside immediately, determined to plan a fun day out after last night. A movie, perhaps? Maybe a picnic in the park? Dinner at this little rooftop place he knows in the city?

He’s almost scarily perfect, for all his eccentricities.

—

Just when you think you’re starting to get to know him, though, it feels like there are even more mysteries.

You come back one night to his hotel room after all, where he opens the door with a flourish —

And you’re immediately hit with the smell of something sweet, yet somehow musty. Like an antique store, or (weirdly) your grandmother’s house.

His face changes immediately, the cocky smile sliding right off. Something is clearly not what he planned.

He flips on the lightswitch, and the two of you walk in to the suite’s living room… to find the place full of vases on vases, all stuffed with your favorite flowers.

But they’re all withered. Dead, even desiccated, like they’d been sitting there for ten years.

“…Is this performance art?” you say, trying to lighten the mood, but he holds up a hand.

“Wait here,” he says softly, only just audible.

“Is something wrong?”

You’ve never seen him like this before. If you thought he was already tall, now he seems to positively tower, his spine taught like a pulled piano wire.

He stalks into the room, scowling at the flowers, searching for something. He’s muttering softly, and you can’t hear what it is, but he sounds pissed.

“Seth,” you call, unsettled. “What’s going on?”

Before he looks back to you, suddenly his eyes are different as he scans the room. They’re pitch black, like onyx stones set into his face.

You must have had too much wine at dinner, because for just a second, you’d swear they were all black. Every bit of flesh hidden by something almost like a film.

But when he looks at you again, they’re fine. “Give me a minute, doll face. Just stand right there for me, okay?”

Before you can ask, he skulks into the rooms beyond, into the dark

…Leaving you standing there in the doorway.

You know he asked you not to, but this is just so… weird. You step tentatively into the suite, the cute shoes you’d picked for your date tonight crunching softly on what must be a Persian rug’s worth of petals underfoot.

Why would he buy dead flowers? And in bulk like this? He had to have bought them this way, because they’re just so… old. No florist around Greymoon would’ve sold anything close to the condition these were in on purpose. You knew Miss Amelia who ran Della’s, her mother’s old store, would’ve immediately put her flowers in the composter the minute they were anything less than perfectly fresh. You know the little family mortuary out closer to the swamp started doing their own flowers recently (it was a bit of town gossip for a while, Miss Amelia wasn’t sure whether or not to take it personally), but even they wouldn’t sell them dead — that would defeat the point, right?

Out of the corner of your eye, something moves.

You turn to find yourself facing the open door to the suite’s bathroom, the lights flickering ominously just inside. Like they aren’t screwed in right, or like the bulbs are almost burnt out. It’s just as odd as the flowers — this is a relatively new hotel, closer to the city than your little town. Everything still has that new ���fresh paint’ gleam, making the rickety lights and the ancient-looking flowers stick out even more.

You’re aware, at the edge of your perception, of something about this just not feeling… right. Too many things out of place, in ways that don’t seem to have explanations that make sense.

You’re still trying to make the pieces fit together when something in the bathroom mirror moves.

You step back, your skin suddenly cold as you realize you’ve been staring right at someone that didn’t belong there. That they might have been staring right back at you.

The light flickers again, and it doesn’t account for the movement you just saw.

Almost like someone was in there, stepping back from the glass.

You look towards the little hallway Seth disappeared down, but you hear nothing. Your mouth is dry, and you can’t decide if calling out for him would save you, or just attract whoever’s in there right to you.

…You pull your mace out of its hiding place in your date night ensemble (what? Things were scary for a queer person lately), your finger hovering over the button. You’ve never had to use it before. You didn’t think you were going to need to use it tonight.

But if someone’s here, waiting for you two...

You step inside.

Part of you wants to call for Seth, still. He’s kind of intimidating, when you first see him, all legs and dark hair and sharp cheekbones. And even though you’ve never heard him raise his voice at anyone, always polite if not a bit of a charmer, you’d feel better with him there.

But you’re in here, now. This place is bigger than you realized — the bathroom an L-shape, and you’re standing right at the corner. Someone could get to you before he could get here, too.

There’s no sound of motion — no rustling, no careful footsteps, no settling of the floor. But you’re positive what you saw: a figure, not quite as tall as Seth, but still had a few inches on you.

You lift your mace to eye-level as slowly as you can, afraid of making any wayward noise yourself. Holding your breath, you step around the corner —

And see nothing.

Your arm falls slowly, your stomach churning. But… but you’d just seen someone. As real and solid as Seth was. There was nowhere they could’ve possibly hidden.

You look back to the mirror, as if searching for an answer there… and pause, realizing there’s something else there now.

WE’LL BURY YOU

The letters are huge, in a smeary red… something. Viscous, almost… dried in some places. Clumping, crusted at the ends of the letters.

But where you can see there should be texture, it seems… flat to the glass. Smooth.

You’ve stepped to the mirror before you entirely realize it, your body pulling you towards the discrepancy subconsciously.

You reach your hand out towards the glass, wanting to figure out what it is — and your fingers feel nothing there.

There’s no substance on the mirror.

You rub your fingertips across it, trying to smear it, but it’s like the glass is between you and whatever it is. Like it was somehow written on the other side of—

A hand falls heavy on your shoulder, and you let out a surprised shout, whirling on the source.

“Sweetheart,” Seth says, voice low and eyes flashing. “I know I told you…”

Before he stops dead, his gaze falling on the mirror behind you.

His hand slides across your back to your other shoulder as he moves towards the mirror, drawn to it as you were. And, just as you had, he touches his hand to the letters… before pulling away clean fingertips.

“…Seth,” you whisper, watching him stare at his own hand in befuddlement. “I saw someone in here.”

He looks up immediately, alarmed. “Where? What did they look like?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “I didn’t see their face, I just— I swear I saw someone reflected in the mirror. But there was no one when I walked in…”

Frowning, Seth scans the bathroom, as if the vandal is going to peel themselves from the wallpaper or drop from the ceiling. Or appear on the other side of the mirror’s glass.

After a moment, he does something even more puzzling: he grins, sharp and oddly… unsettling. Like there’s more anger behind it than laughter.

“Don’t worry about it, pet.” He waves his free hand, his other sliding down your shoulder to gently grip your upper arm. “It’s just a joke.”

You blink. “A- a joke?”

“A practical joke. A little jape, at my expense, from some colleagues.” He links his arm through yours, steering you gently away from the mirror. “It’s all harmless fun.”

You can feel yourself frowning, still confused. “…Is this what practical jokes are like in your line of work?”

“Of course! The mirror is a neat little trick, wouldn’t you say? Some corn syrup and food dye, painted in just the right way. It must’ve taken them ages,” he says, and his tone veers from light into something else for a moment.

“And the flowers?” you ask tentatively.

“Oh, they must’ve seen the little display I set up for you,” he says, managing a chuckle. “And decided to swap them out. Really, I’m going to have to call them up and ask them about it. Figure out how they got in here,” he adds, the smile dropping for just a second long enough for you to see. “Anyway,” he says, guiding you towards the front door again. “I’m just going to leave a message and an extra tip for the housekeeping staff, and we’ll go get more dessert somewhere while we wait, shall we?”

As you follow him out, you sneak a peek over your shoulder, down the hallway he’d disappeared into.

You catch the barest glint, in the light, of something steely driven into what must be his bedroom door. It looks like… a scalpel?

Nevertheless, he sweeps you downstairs, and before you can fully process everything, the two of you are splitting a complimentary plate of the best mochi ice cream you’ve ever eaten in the hotel’s impressive restaurant. When you try to inquire further about the so-called joke, Seth laughs it off, like it already happened a million years ago. If there’s followup or retribution you never hear about it after.

At least you can say you’re never bored when you’re with him.

#seth sunday #the miraculous mr. sunday #slasher oc #magician oc #necromancer oc #slasher oc x reader #david dastmalchian fc #genderqueer reader #non-binary reader #plus size reader #fat reader #morvant mortuary #monsterkisser fics

[cardierreh15]

Sleeping ♦️ Diamond

Hey y’all! From this chapter forward, this fic will be a collab with my dear friend @headcannonxgalore ! How exciting right?! This is the first time I’ve ever done anything like this so this will be a blast, and hopefully it’ll cause me to push the story out quicker. Anywho, make sure to read her fanfic as well to understand both point of views of this Fic. Thank y’all, so much! And I hope y’all enjoy reading this as much as we enjoyed writing it. All my Love 💕

**I do not give anyone permission to repost or copy my work!!!

Warning 18+: Cursing , Violence , Fighting , Blood , Gore , Burning Bodies , Death , Sexual Thoughts.

Description: After days of trying to develop a plan to counter Meredith’s attack on humankind, Kassie & David have a run in with unexpected guests.

Pairings: Henry Cavill (David) x African American Plus Size Woman(Kassandra)

Special Guests: Blade (Wesley Snipes) & Reese (Blade’s Companion)

Word Count:

Chapter 6: The Beginning of the End.

David was walking through a field. Much like the field that he use to run around in as a child. He allowed his finger tips to gently brush over the reeds. This place brought him great joy, so much he could feel the emotion sitting on his chest like a weight.

‘Dave!’ A familiar, harmonic voice called out to him. It was shrouded with laughter and giggles of children. His children. He looked up to see his daughter’s arms wrapped around Kassandra’s waist tightly, and his son piggy backed on her back with his arms around her neck. David smiled at the sight of them. They all looked happy. And he felt happy.

‘Dad!’ The kids called out in sync and practically jumped off of Kassie in a split second to see their papa. They wrapped their little arms around him too. ‘We—hey guys!’ He snickered and looked up at Kassandra who was walking towards the three of them in all her grace. She was so beautiful, silhouetted by the great star, she glowed like a goddess. ‘They’ve been asking about you.’ She leaned up, placing a gentle kiss upon his lips. ‘I told them you’d awake soon.’

‘How do you feel dad?!’ His little Clementine asked in worry.

He looked down at both of his children, smiling softly as he rubbed their heads gently, ‘So much better now that you all are here.’ He then looked up at Kassie who was staring at him with all the pride in the world. ‘What?’ He asked, a subtle smile curled on his lips.

‘You’re beautiful. And you’re going to make the perfect King.’ She placed her soft palm on his jaw, her thumb coming out to trace over his sweet lips. ‘Come. Look at your new kingdom.’

Kingdom? This newfound news caused his eyebrows to tug into one. He wanted to refuse and ask questions, but he would rather be curious in quiet just in case his questions were to be answered soon. With his children’s small hands in his, he walked forward — right on the heels of Kassandra. And the further they walked, the darker—stranger the sky became. It was dark red like blood. The moon was shattered into 4 pieces, but somehow still rotating together as if something was holding them there. He looked down to see the reeds, dying in real time.

‘This is it.’ There was joy in her voice. ‘This is your… our new home.’ She held her arm out, pointing towards a dark figure. It was shaped like a castle… but not exactly. The field before it, was raided by what had appeared to be two armies. One side black and red, and the other side white and blue. They were brutally fighting one another. There were bodies all over the field, blood and burning piles. He felt his chest tighten, like he couldn’t breathe. He grabbed his chest, taking a step back. He felt like he was going to have another attack.

‘Dad?’ The kids said in sync, standing in front of Kassandra now.

‘What’s wrong M’Lord?’ Kassie rushed over to him and grabbed his wrists, ‘Is this not everything you’ve ever wanted?’

‘I—‘ David’s breath was aspirated, he was struggling for air as if he was drowning. ‘I—I can’t breathe.’

Kassandra stared for a blank second before she let out a chuckle, ‘Don’t be silly David. You don’t need air. Matter of fact, you no longer have use of your lungs anymore.’

He’d felt like his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. He slowly turned his head to look at her, ‘wha—what did you just say?’ He’d figured she was insinuating that she was one of them.

‘You’re one of us now,’ she looked back at the children, who now had eyes that matched the sky. ‘One of us daddy.’ They said together, hand in hand. He stared at them in pure fear. ‘No.’ And suddenly, he was surrounded by soldiers in red and black. And some in white and blue.

‘Long Live The King. Long Live The King.—‘

David covered his ears with his hands, ‘no. STOP.’

Their eyes… all of them matched the sky’s just like his children. Though, some of their faces were more dramatic— monstrous than others. This image frightened him even more.

‘LONG LIVE THE KING!LONG LIVE THE KING!’

‘STOOOOOP!!!’

—

David stirred up out of his sleep, kicking and waving his hands as he tried to wake up from this nightmare. He sat up quickly, body completely covered in sweat. He looked around, taking in all of the details of his room. It was just a dream. He let out a shuddered breath, before swallowing his spit then standing up out of his bed.

He’d gone to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water and take his anxiety medication. He’d taken another deep breath before walking into the bathroom to wash his face. But he was immediately startled by the bright golden eyes that stared back at him. David frantically reached over to the flicker on the light switch and they instantly disappeared. He felt like he was going crazy!

‘You’re losing it, Dave.’ He chuckled nervously as he turned on the faucet. He splashed himself in the face with cold water, and used a hand towel to gently dry his face. But when he looked up into that mirror again, there he was— standing there with those bright gold eyes once again but the meanest scowl on his face. David let out a sharp gasp in shock, in fear. Before he could stumble back and retreat to his bedroom, his very own reflection reached out and grabbed him by the neck, ‘Release. Me. Free. Me.’ His voice was dark and eerie. The most demonic thing he’d ever heard.

‘Let…’ he choked, holding on to his wrist, ‘Me—‘ he reached over for the candle on the counter, ‘GO!’ And slammed it into the mirror, shattering the glass into hundreds of pieces.

—

David? David? David!

‘Wha—huh?’ He forced himself to open his eyes. She was straddling his lap, her hands holdings his shoulders as if she’d been shaking him all night.

‘Oh— thank goodness! You’re awake! I was in the living room and I was so focused on the sounds of the kids… I completely forgot to check on you. Are you alright?! Your heart rate has dropped to 30 beats per minute!’

David immediately grabbed his chest and took a deep breath, ‘I—‘ he wanted to tell her his dreams. But he was afraid it would scare her. Or somehow blame herself for all of this. It wasn’t even her fault. It was all his. ‘I’m OK. Just—‘ he swallowed his spit and looked down between them. It had only taken just now to notice that he had a stinging hard on. And she was sitting on it as if she hadn’t even noticed.

He didn’t even know what to say to her, he’s embarrassed? Oh for sure. ‘You’re kind of sitting … Um—‘ he wanted to push her off. Or keep her there. Or be inside of her. The way she looked, her thick curly hair in a bun with a few fly aways. Her wearing one of his shirts that fit like a oversized dress. How he just wanted to kiss that gorgeous brown skin. He was a throbbing mess.

And it was like she felt him… she heard his heart beat quickening the more she sat there. And finally she noticed the hard poking at her inner thigh. ‘Oh— David,’ she scurried off of his lap in her own embarrassment, ‘I’m —so sorry I just—‘ he quickly snatched up a pillow, placing it over his lap as he stood up with his hand out, reassuringly. ‘Kassie. It’s— it’s fine, really. I know you meant well. It’s just… a human thing.’

‘I—I know it’s a human thing…’ she paused, feeling so small and … naughty. ‘I just wanted to make sure you were alive… I didn’t mean to—‘

‘Kassandra…’ David said, his voice sure and calm. He tossed the pillow back on the bed. By now, his embarrassment was now gone and his enormous growth was back to normal… ‘It’s fine. I’m fine.’ He took a deep breath, pressing his lips together as he studied her. They stayed quiet for a moment, ‘You wanna go get some tea?’

‘I would love some tea.’

—

The two sat across from one another at the small breakfast table. David had slowly taken his spoon out of his mug and placed it down. His tiredness was showing on his face. His eyes were dark and sunken. Then he brought his warm cup of chamomile tea to his lips, humming at the acquired taste.

Kassandra stared at him for a long moment, ‘You need to rest, David. Besides dealing and trying to formulate a plan to diminish Meredith’s efforts, you’ve also been tending to your fatherly duties. You’re exhausted, and you need sleep.’ She was practically begging him at this point.

David rubbed at his temples and looked across the table at her, ‘I already told you Kass, we have a plan. And it’s going to work.’

‘Oh? You mean the plan with not pursuing her at all? You mean the one where we just let her do whatever the fuck she wants?!’

Startled by Kassandra’s outburst, David’s mouth slightly dropped before he sat back against the chair. ‘Hmph, it appears you’ve taken upon cursing really well,’

Kassie rolled her eyes, folding her arms across her chest. ‘Look, sometimes not doing anything is the best alternative. I mean c’mon, Kass. Telling the world about who you are— what, you are?! In that sense, humankind haven’t changed. They will tear you apart! Take anything that may be valuable so they could get closer to what they want.’ David then let out a sigh and pressed his lips together, ‘Kass,’ he stood up and walked over to her, squatting down to her level, ‘I know her. We just have to call her bluff… she won’t hurt anyone.’

Kassie looked at him, her golden eyes staring into his blue hues, ‘I want to believe that David. But if she isn’t stopped, — bad things will happen…’

She wasn’t wrong. If David continued to push this back, people would get hurt. And then eventually those who he held dear, would be amongst those people. ‘I know you want to do the right thing. But we have to—‘ Kassie paused, her ear twitching.

‘Wha—‘

‘Shhh!’ Kassie said before slowly standing to her feet. ‘We have visitors.’ She whispered once before inhaling as hard as she could. ‘There’s another… vampire? Human?’

‘Kass, you stay here… I’ll handle this—‘ David had quickly rushed over towards the front door.

‘David! What?! Are you crazy?!’ She whispered loudly. ‘They could kill you!’

David unlocked the door, ‘It’s fine. After all, this is my fault.’ He turned on the porch light and opened the door.

‘What?! No—‘

There stood a African American male and an African American Female. He stood there for a moment in confusion, ‘May I help you?’

Before their “guests” could even introduce themselves, Kassie let out a loud hiss. Her fangs protruding from her gums, her golden eyes radiated with anger.

‘KASS!’ He exclaimed before he was knocked back with great strength. Letting out a grunt from the force, he went flying across the room, right into the glass shelves. Broken glass, wood and metal fell on top of him. He let out a weak groan as his conscience grew dark.

‘DAVID!‘ She looked over at the two intruders at the door. ‘You’ll pay for this!’ She exclaimed as she rushed them both. Until the male in all black brought up his gun and shot her right in the forehead. She stopped dead in her tracks and fell backwards. For a moment she’d thought she’d be dead, but no! Her eyes flashed open and she arose to her feet. With the silver bullet barely penetrating her flash, it did leave a little burn mark behind. She pulled it out of her skin and glared at them. ‘Is that the best you got?’

The two began to go at it. Punching and kicking. Occasionally, the female would jump in and Kassie would just simply knock her down. ‘STAY. DOWN!’ Kassie yelled at the female before she was stabbed right through her chest. She gasped, choking at the pain. ‘Haa!’ And when he pulled the blade right out of her chest, she looked at the wound. Her fingers shaking at the pain before the wound began to reattach itself and heal.

‘What the—‘

‘Fuck?!’

Kassie hissed and kicked the male so hard he went flying across the living room.

‘DAD!’ The children exclaimed as they tried to rush over to their father. ‘Babies—‘ Kassie gasped before speeding before them. She squat down to their level, ‘Wait now. There’s glass everywhere. I don’t want you to cut your feet.’

‘But dad— but daddy is hurt!’ Little Adonis said to her with tears filling his eyes.

‘Yes,’ she looked back at David who was still passed out. ‘But he will be OK. Just think about how upset your mother will be if she found out you were stepping all over glass huh? It’s OK. Everything is alright.’

Clementine looked from Kassie to the woman who was carefully helping the male on the other side of the room, ‘Who are they? What are they wearing?’

She looked behind them and swallowed her spit, ‘Uh— they’re just some friends of mine. And— frankly I don’t know. Just— that’s what they wear. Look, you two get back to bed OK? I’m going to get your daddy back in tip top shape.’ Kassie gave them a kiss on their cheeks. She then turned them around by their hands and gently pushed them towards the direction from once they came.

Shortly after, she rushed over to David who was now slowly regaining his conscious. ‘Dave?’ She pulled him up carefully, ‘Oh dear—…’ he had so many cuts on his hands, some on his neck and cheek. He had shards in his hand, arms and shoulders.

David groaned in pain. ‘Fuck. I’m bleeding.’

He was… a lot. And his blood was so damn intoxicating. Kassie could feel her throat, her stomach burning like hell. She knew the only thing would be to calm it was blood. But she couldn’t do that… not to him.

‘It’s OK… let’s go in the bathroom and get you cleaned up.’ She brushed the back of her fingers against his jaw. Then, she turned her attention back towards the man and the woman who was standing across the room. ‘I assume we have much to discuss… make yourself at home, I suppose.’ She grimaced before helping David to the bathroom.

—

‘AHH!’ David exclaimed as she carefully pulled the large shard out of his shoulder. ‘Ouch!’ He whimpered as she dropped the bloodied pieces of glass in the sink.

‘I’m sorry,’ she sighed softly, ‘Next time you’d listen when I tell you not to do something. He could’ve killed you. Probably would have if I wasn’t here.’ She cleaned off his wounds and grabbed the needle and thread.

‘Well… this won’t be the only time that I’m glad to have you around.’ David hissed with the needle penetrated his damaged skin. ‘But right now… I kind of hate you.’ The both of them chuckled as she sowed him closed. Afterwards, she coated his wounds with antibacterial ointment, and taped some gauze over them. All she learned from television.

‘Where’d you learn all of this?! You’ve seem to be doing some “studying” when it comes to cursing and first aid.’ He asked, humorously.

Kassandra giggled, ‘The TV. And… when you’re at work I go on YouTube and let it play all day.’

‘Hmph! Well, nice job.’ He praised.

‘Thank you!’ She said as she began to clean up. Then her attention was taken by the bloody glass and cloths. She wanted to lick it up. She’d been so hungry for this since the cave— it was safe to say she hadn’t had her fix. Reaching out towards the larges shard, David had finally said her name, ‘Kassie,’ and that pulled her back to reality. ‘Yes?’ She looked back at him with soft eyes, ‘Thank you… for… everything.’

She stared at him for a moment before a soft smile curled on her lips. He then walked out of the bathroom. She turned back towards the sink, the hugest grin on her lips as she turned on that hot water and cleaned up that bloody mess.

That reassurance was all she needed, to keep going. To keep striving to be better.

—

She started walking back to the living room, and David had carefully shut the door to the children’s bedroom. They walked together until Kassie stopped him, placing her hand firmly on his chest. ‘Let me talk… OK? You’ve done nothing but stick up for me since I’ve been here. Let me handle this.’

David’s eyebrows tugged together, ‘Kass,—‘

‘I’m not going to rebuttal this… you can’t protect me forever.’ She stared up into his eyes. There was an unusual seriousness behind her golden hues, and frankly— David didn’t like that one bit.

And neither did he like the idea of not being able to protect her forever.

‘Fine,’ he sighed, ‘Let’s do this then.’ And the two of them walked into the living room.

The male stood at the arm of the sofa with his arms folded across his chest. He had an unamused look on his face. Probably because he just got his ass handed to him.

The woman on the other hand, was looking at her nails, her leg crossed over the other. Her posture was straight, despite the fact that Kassie kept knocking her on her ass. But it was obvious that they weren’t just your typical vampires. Not like Meredith and her crew. New and learning. They seem to be around for quite some time. And this actually intrigued the both of them.

Kassandra and David sat down on the sofa across from them. The room was so damn quiet, it was eerie and uncomfortable. Until David decided to clear his throat.

‘Why are y’all—‘

‘Oh— no, no no.’ The male said, waving his index finger left and right, ‘You don’t get to ask questions here.’

David raised his brows in disbelief before he looked at Kassie who was still staring at the female with interest. He thought that was strange but he brushed it off and looked back ahead to the rude individual, ‘You’re in my house. I can ask any questions I see fit! Now, if you don’t like that, you can take Buffy over here and get the fuck out.’ He sat back comfortably in his seat.

Kassandra looked over at David and narrowed her eyes, ‘You must be so rude to our guests?‘

‘Rude?! You sure? They came in my house demanding answers when they haven’t even asked questions yet and oh yeah— did you forget? You had to give me stitches?! I’m not being rude, I’m just getting even.’ He then looked back at the pair that sat across from them.

Annoyed with his attitude, Kassie groaned and rolled her eyes, ‘OK. Whatever. I’d like to apologize for my partner’s behavior—‘

‘Partner?’ The woman finally spoke, putting her hand down on her lap. Then she looked back at the male. ‘I wasn’t aware vampires call their familiar’s “partners”.’

Kassandra pulled her eyebrows together, ‘Familiars? I’m sorry you’d have to explain to me what that means.’

David’s eyebrows pulled together in interest yet, confusion, ‘You mean… a vampire’s human pet? Oh no… you got it all wrong here. We are nothing like that…’

Kassandra’s eyebrows tugged into one, ‘I’m still not understanding.’

‘Basically, familiars are devoted beings that would do anything for their owners. I see them as errand boys and slaves… and pets. All because they are waiting to be like them.’ David explained further.

She made a face before turning her attention back towards them, ‘We’re far from anything like that. David does anything he wants to do. He is.. his own man.’

The male in the expensive leather grunted, ‘And you’re expecting me to believe that.’

‘Frankly, I don’t really care what you believe. It’s the truth.’ David bit back.

‘OK fellas. Enough of the bickering! I haven’t caught your names yet.’ The woman said as she stood up with her hands on her hips. ‘I’m Reese, this shrewd fellow behind me is Eric but everyone calls him Blade.’

#henry cavill #the witcher #geralt of rivia #august walker #daddy #witcher geralt #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x black reader #august #henry cavill x plus size reader #blade movie #blade #wesley snipes #vampirism #vampires #vampiress #vampire queen #david x kassandra #henry cavill fanfiction

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Congratulations on 5k

Could you do 6 and 16 for Orm if he's not allowed Steve.

.⋆｡Dosage｡⋆.

Orm Marius x plus size reader

You get stuck babysitting the Ocean Master, you should’ve guessed that he would stir up some trouble

Warnings: sex pollen so little bit of dub-con, mention of tranquilisers and death, Batman not being helpful, swearing, no smut but nudity and implied smut

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

5k Follower Celebration

You wondered what you did to warrant this terrible punishment. The lab was silent, your music having been forcefully turned off by your employer an hour before and you were pinned to your seat by the icy blue eyes of your charge. 

Babysitting, that’s what you had been reduced to. It’s not like your three PHDs could be put to better use than making sure Arthur’s brother didn’t wander off and get himself into trouble. You rationalised that you could deal with it fine as long as he kept his mouth shut and his hands to himself but evidently the ex King of Atlantis had a serious staring problem and it was so much more distracting than if he had been chatting your ear off.

Sighing heavily, your head dropped between your shoulders and you pulled your glasses off your nose. “Do you really have to stare at me the whole time like some kind of fucking vouyer?” Orm huffed, finally looking away and giving you a chance to observe the Atlantian.

There was no doubt that he was beautiful, with a chilled jaw, perfect skin, fluffy blond hair and a body that would rival Michelangelo’s David but as soon as he opened his mouth, all that beauty melted away. He was arrogant and entitled and for some damn reason he refused to let you work in peace.

“You should be honoured to be in my presence human.” Your eye twitched in annoyance. Breathe Y/N, breathe. You told yourself. You crossed your legs and shot Orm a look that would’ve had Batman shaking in his boots.

“Just- find something else to do and let me work, please.” He raised a dark brow at you but nodded anyway. His muscles rippled beneath the compression shirt he had been given upon his arrival to the tower. You forced yourself to look away and back to your work. “All I need is an hour and then we can find something productive for you to do.”

He hummed noncommittally, which you were perfectly fine with. 

The lab settled into a blissful silence and you were finally, thankfully, able to really plug into the data analysis that you had been putting off. Occasionally, you could see the disgraced prince out of the corner of your eye as he wandered around the lab, his hands clasped behind his back. He could follow directions well, you would give him that.

You didn’t mind the company, now that he was not staring at you like a fucking creep, in fact he was quite comforting considering you spent most days in complete isolation save for when Batman needed yet another project completed. 

Just as you were reaching the final compiling, Orm’s voice rang through the lab as if he were commanding his people. “What the fuck is sex pollen?” Your entire body seized with fear and as you turned your chair to face him, time slowed.

His large hand had turned one of the many labelled specimen jars in the open cabinet at the other end of the lab, the cabinet that you had forgotten to lock when Bruce had barged in earlier. Your eyes widened almost comically as the delicate jar tipped and the neon pink dust gathered to one side. Orm tried to grab the sealed beaker but the glass was already rolling off the shelf.

Your hand was already moving towards the contamination shut down as the container met the solid ground, shattering immediately. 

The pollen exploded outwards, coating everything within 2 metres of the impact point in a bright pink dust. Orm coughed and tried to wipe it from his skin, but the pollen was already soaking in, quickly making its way into his bloodstream. 

The lab doors slammed shut and the industrial strength locks clicked into place. You yanked a medical mask from your workstation and quickly tugged it on as you rushed towards Orm, whose face was now flushed. His chest was already heaving with laboured breaths and as you drew closer, you could see the sweat collecting on his brow.

“Hey, I need you to listen to me very carefully right now.” His gaze snapped to you and you held up your hands to show that you weren’t a threat. “We can fix this, we just have to work together. Understand?” He nodded his head and you sighed in relief.

“I need you to strip off your clothes, the longer you’re in them, the more pollen you’ll ingest. And then I’m putting you in the decontamination shower until I figure out how this is going to fuck with your fishy DNA.” You expected some fight out of the prince but he followed your directions to the letter, his eyes staring intently into your own. 

You were thankful for your mask concealing your face as he pulled off his shirt, exposing the toned muscles of his stomach. You swallowed thickly, heat defiantly pooling between your thighs as his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his sweatpants and yanked them down. Evidently, Atlantians didn’t wear underwear. He leaned closer to you, his nostrils flaring. 

Orm’s eyelids fluttered as he let out the most erotic groan you had ever heard. “Fuck, why do you smell so fucking good?” You hated to admit it, but your knees buckled at that. Swallowing down the whine that threatened to spill from your lips, you pulled yourself together.

“O-okay now, into the shower.” You nodded your head towards the stall in the corner of the lab but Orm remained still. His breathing was quickening and his pupils were blown, leaving only a sliver of blue around the black. You stepped in that direction but still, he refused to follow.

“Goddamnit.” You muttered and grabbed his muscular shoulder, forcefully yanking him to the stall and quickly shoving him inside before he had a chance to refuse. You locked the door, knowing that there was no possible way for him to drown himself, and started the auto decontamination.

As soon as he lost sight of you, Orm gave a shout of protest and slammed his fists against the door. “No! Come back!” The glass trembled with the force of his blows and if it weren’t for Bruce’s tendency to make everything strong enough to hold Clark back for a minute at least, you would have been scared of it shattering.

You carefully walked backwards to your desk, your eyes locked onto the shower which was now running but it was doing nothing to hinder the man inside. In fact, his efforts to get out doubled as the water hit his overheated skin. “You’re mine!” He screamed and a crack appeared in the glass.

You snatched up the phone that directly connected you to Bruce, pressing it to your ear as you continued to back up. As soon as you heard his gruff voice, you shouted at him. “Orm ingested that sex pollen shit from Ivy, what the fuck do I do?”

There was a pause and for a second you thought the line had dropped. Then he sighed heavily into the receiver. “Fuck. The antidote you developed won’t work on him since he doesn’t have any human DNA and his body won’t burn out the pollen fast enough before his system overheats.” Silence settled between you as the solution dawned on both of you at the same time. “So-“

“So I’ll have to help him through it or he dies.” You finished his thought for him.

“I’m sorry kid.” Then the call cut off. Orm threw his body at the door and another crack appeared. You had a choice here, there was a tranquiliser in the drawer of your desk that could put down Flash, you could wait for the door to shatter and use it against the raging prince. Or…

Your mask dropped to the floor, along with your shirt and pants. His shouts had now devolved into unintelligible growls that only served to make your inner thighs even wetter. By the time you reached the shower, the frosted glass now resembled a spider’s web and you were completely bare.

You hit the override switch to the side of the stall and the screaming stopped. The damaged tracks groaned as the door slowly opened, revealing you to Orm once more. “Take what you need, I only want to help.” 

The air was knocked from your lungs as strong arms grabbed you and pulled you into the shower with him. Cold water washed over your naked body though it did nothing to lessen the fire between you. A moan was forced from your lips as Orm ducked down and buried his nose in the crook of your throat, pressing his hard body to your soft one.

His chest rumbled happily as he inhaled. “I will not be gentle, I cannot. But once this curse has passed, I will treat you like a goddess, a queen.” His tongue licked up the column of your neck until he could rise to his full height once more. “You will experience pleasure like never before, my claim will be laid upon you.”

And you could only nod as his large warm hand gripped your knee tightly, bringing your plump leg up to wrap around his lean hips. “Prepare yourself for your king.”

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[biteofcherry]

Sentence Prompt: I'm so proud of you for using your safe-word.

AU: Ruby Gardens

I'm not in the BDSM world but stories where the Dom almost immediately praises their Sub for using the colors/safe-words really make me feel more inclined. I hope that makes sense.

More precious than rubies

Dom!Steve Rogers x plus size reader

warnings: none really; BDSM setting; Dom/sub dynamic; safe, sane and consensual; safewording; aftercare; communication;

Your heart was still pounding like crazy, even though Steve's hand provided that warmth of support as it rested on the small of your back.

You felt cold and shaky. And it had nothing to do with the fact you were naked. It was the wave of cold sweat that turned your skin clammy; anxiety filling your stomach with acidic dread.

"Is it okay if I hold you, or do you prefer me to step back?" Steve's calm, but worried tone reached you through the haze of chaos that was still messing with your brain.

You blinked a few times, trying to find his face in the blur of colors and focus on it.

Steve had a beautiful face. Chiseled like a perfect statue of Adonis. Nah, no Davids nor Adonises or other heroes could compare to how handsome you found him.

But mostly it was his eyes - so blue and so full of emotion - that held you captive.

"Hold me, please," you managed to croak out.

Steve didn't hesitate, instantly pulling you off the bench and lifting you up into his arms. Your dynamic has been developing for a few months now, but you were still stunned with how easily he could pick you up and carry you. As if you were light as a feather, though the scale showed something completely different.

"Sorry for all of that," you sighed once he settled you two down on a small chaise.

Steve adjusted you in his lap, so that you were more comfortable. He ran a finger along your cheek, before tucking it below your chin and tilting your head so your gaze met his eyes.

There was a slight frown marring his gorgeous face, but it wasn't annoyance. More likely worry.

"Never apologize for using your safeword," Steve said. "Whatever happened that made you do it, it was significant and heavy for you."

The scene wasn't hard. You doubted Steve even got you into half of what he planned on doing to you after you negotiated the general scenario for the evening.

Being under his care usually made you feel so safe and taken care of, that sometimes you considered revisiting some of your softer limits with Steve to see if maybe he'd like to explore some of them. Because with him you were willing to maybe poke at them and check them out.

But the blindfold, while not a limit, made you anxious.

At first you thought it's because it's a step of sensory deprivation and you had very little experience in that. Then your other senses started heightening, hearing most of all.

Instead of focusing on the sounds of Steve moving, or what implements he could be preparing to use, your attention went to the sounds a little further out.

To the laughter. Some other club members, who probably were just engaged in some conversation, or were watching a brat get disciplined. But your brain instantly screamed at you with horrified humiliation - that they were laughing at you.

At how you looked. How pathetic and ungraceful, and comically ugly you had to look there. Especially right next to Steve.

"I'm so proud of you for using your safeword," he assured you. "Not only because it let me know that you were in serious discomfort, which is something I as a Dom should look out for and react in time."

"But because it means you were taking care of yourself."

Steve's eyes softened as you stared at him a little confused. He changed his hold on you slightly, now running his fingers along your naked body in a warming caress.

"Upon feeling distressed, you didn't withdraw, didn't dissociate, you didn't grit your teeth to push through it. You safworded. You set a boundary and demanded it being recognized."

"You put yourself and your well-being first.

It stunned you. You didn't think of it the way he saw it, but now you started to understand why Steve said he was proud of you.

Not only in the BDSM aspect, but for your personal healing.

And Steve supported that more than anything else.

#anonymous #biteofcherry's birthday banquet #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #dom!steve rogers #more precious than rubies #ruby garden #ruby garden series

[hotchs-big-hands]

The Slaughterhouse

Aaron Hotchner x plus-size fem!reader part 1 5.3k words

Minors dni please

Warning(s): VERY DARK, graphic murder description, injury, gore, blood, fatphobia, extreme angst (with a happy ending), sort-of enemies to lovers, kidnapping, torture, references to SA, derogatory nsfw comments. Oh and I use the word fat because I personally reclaimed it to not rly insult me as it is merely a descriptive word. I do not use it in an insulting way even once in the series.

Please heed the warnings, this series is going to be dark asf. No smut in this series tho.

An escalating string of gruesomely murdered fat women begin to stack up with no end in sight. What started as an unfortunate routine case for the BAU team, takes a disturbing turn as you become entangled in the unsub's web, danger approaching closer and closer. It's only a matter of time before it's too late to bring the madness to an end.

Hiiiii everyone! I'm really happy to start my new series! It's a vast departure from my previous series lol but I hope you all enjoy regardless! As stated tho in the warnings it's gonna get dark so feel free to skip if you're not comfortable! But if you'd like to be tagged then please let me know! Happy reading 💖💖💖

A thin trail of red tinged water trickled down into the drain, not quite blending together more so than the red slowly spread out in the clear liquid like drops of crimson ink.

"Has Pen got a cute bandaid I could use, you think?" You asked the woman beside you as you rinsed a papercut you'd gained from the insultingly tall stack of paperwork on your desk. The woman, Emily Prentiss, shrugged slightly, tussling her silky, black hair.

"Maybe. I'll text her and ask."

"Thanks."

It didn't take long for the door to the women's restroom to burst open, almost slamming into the wall as a frantic Penelope Garcia rushed over to you, a pink first aid kit in her bejewelled hands.

"I'm here, I'm here! Nurse Garcia to the rescue!!" She cried, her blonde curls bouncing with every step. You chuckled at her as Emily stepped out of the way.

"Thank goodness, I was really starting to have second thoughts about my survival rate here."

Penelope was quick to spring into action, setting the kit down and upon opening it she retrieved an antiseptic wipe.

"Give me your hand, I'm going to clean the area." She instructed, eyes a little narrowed as she began to concentrate. You winced slightly when the antiseptic stung a little, but soon you were sporting an adorable pink bandaid with a Hello Kitty pattern on it. You held your hand out to admire it with a grin.

"Thanks so much, Pen!"

The ditzy blonde woman smiled.

"You are so welcome, my lovely."

"Come on, we need to head back to the bullpen before somebody notices we disappeared." Emily said pointedly, glancing at Penelope who returned the look. You grimaced slightly and took the empty bandaid wrapper to shove in the trashcan under your desk.

"Yeah true, we should go before I end up with another stack of paperwork." You muttered, heading towards the door and pulling it towards you. That somebody was none other than your up-tight, impersonal boss and unit chief Aaron Hotchner. Well, impersonal with you that is.

 Your time in the BAU had only been a mere year, but it was long enough to form relationships with your coworkers. Whenever possible, you attended ladies' nights with Penelope, Emily and the only other woman in the BAU; Jennifer 'JJ' Jareau, spent time with the ever charmer Derek Morgan whilst he worked on his house projects and happily listened to the young Doctor Spencer Reid as he spoke extensively about chemistry or some sort of engineering related topic. Hell, sometimes you even offered an ear to the oldest member of the team; David Rossi, discussing his passion for cooking and other such things from his life.

But no matter what you tried, there was no breaking down the walls around Aaron Hotchner and at this point you'd begun to stop trying. And it hurt like hell. Not because he was your boss, you didn't care so much about that, but because you happened to like him very much. Probably too much even. He was gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous. Even now you couldn't stop yourself from letting your eyes wander over to glance at him, to take in his tall stature and handsomely seasoned features. And you knew he had a kind and loving side to him as well from the interactions you'd witnessed between him and your coworkers. But the same couldn't be said for you. He never offered that olive branch to you, never spoke to you besides work related discussion when on cases. Hell, you basically knew nothing of his son besides the snippets the others had told you of the elusive boy. Not from Agent Hotchner, but from Emily, Derek, Penny...

There was no way of saying it didn't sting, because it did very much so. And it had been this way right from when you walked through the door per section chief Erin Strauss' recommendation. Your interview was tense between yourself, Hotchner and Rossi with the two of them seemingly being in disagreement about you. Rossi, on one hand, was adamant about your capabilities and of what you would bring to the team, whereas your now boss was reluctant. Nitpicky. Wanting to find something to use to keep you from the position in the team. And when he realised you were officially in the team on your first day, walking into the bullpen with your slightly busted brown box of desk essentials and trinkets, was when the walls were raised to impenetrable heights.

Sighing quietly, you returned to the bullpen, fingers of your uninjured hand fiddling with the balled up wrapper. Your eyes flicked to the familiar windowed office above the main desk area. The blinds were open. He no doubt knew yourself and Emily had disappeared for a short while. You scowled a little to yourself. What did it matter? As long as you got your work completed all the same then it didn't matter if you were at your desk the whole day or not. And it didn't matter what he thought, or if he even did take notice of your absence or if he knew why you were gone. Or if he worried over you. It didn't matter, you told yourself.

"Hey sweet thing, what's that frown for, huh?" You blinked as you were brought to the present by the voice of your friend Derek Morgan. You turned in your chair to face him with a sheepish grin.

"Oh, I'm just annoyed I got a papercut. Like are you kidding me?" You said humourously and the dark skinned man laughed, his teeth gleaming under the artificial office lights.

"Aww I'm sorry, did you accidentally touch these abs or something?" His eyes were shining mischievously now and you rolled your own with a scoff.

"Yeah yeah, you wish. The culprit was this pile of paperwork though."

In response, Derek formed a heart shape with his hands, only to break it when he moved his hands away from one another, pouting sadly as he slumped back in his chair. You giggled quietly and rolled your eyes before you returned your attention to the casefiles on your desk. But it wasn't long before you spotted the colourfully dressed Penny again as she rushed towards your unit chief's office, meaning there was a case about to unfold. You eyed your coworkers, who returned the glance, then automatically made a move to close the casefile you had open on your desk and added it to the paper tower. You rose from your seat just as the office door swung open again and Penny reappeared with Hotch behind her. As she made her way to the conference room the tall man leaned over the walkway in the direction of your colleagues and yourself.

"We have a case. Be in the conference room in 2 minutes." He said curtly, eyes flicking between each face. They lingered on you for a moment, brows pulled together in a deep frown, then moved away as he followed the blonde woman. Over time you'd come to understand that look; this case was bad. Very bad.

JJ was already in the conference room when you trailed in behind Reid, Rossi following behind you and closing the door as the last person in the room. You took a seat near the far side of the round table from the doorway, Emily moving to sit on your left. Your eyes drifted around the room, brows furrowing very slightly when you couldn't find the unit chief in his usual position at the table. The chair beside you made a sound as it was pulled out and to your horror you realised none other than Derek Morgan had taken Hotch's seat, which meant...

You heard Aaron Hotchner clear his throat to your right as he shifted to get comfortable in the chair, the leather squeaking beneath his weight. You didn't dare look his way, instead turning your head to Emily with a slightly skittish look in your eyes. To your horror she was already looking at you, a devilish smirk battling its way on her face.

"You okay there, (L/n)?" She asked sweetly. You scoffed.

"Always am."

You could have sworn you heard the man beside you draw in a sharp breath.

"Let's get started." He said in his smooth, deep voice.

JJ had laid out the casefiles for everyone to look at, but as you reached forward to grab your copy a tanned, hairy hand gently grasped your wrist. You flinched, body turning to the culprit as none other than your boss. He stared back, brows furrowed deeply and his emotions guarded.

"Careful."

You knew all eyes were on the two of you, the burn of the stares was almost unbearable, like fire ants crawling all over you. And then Penelope cleared her throat, ending the moment. Hotch retracted his hand from your wrist carefully and you turned your attention to the two blonde women about to present the case.

It became very apparent almost immediately why your boss was hesitant for you to open your casefile.

You had seen all manner of depravity in this field of work. And while you didn't exactly enjoy seeing the bodies of victims, even the most gruesome crimes didn't really affect you as much as they used to. But what you didn't expect was seeing the horribly mutilated corpses of women, women who had a common similarity with you. Every single one was fat like you. Well, as best as you could tell through the extent of the mutilations to the bodies. With the side-by-side comparison of the photos of the victims as they were alive and happy, their cheerful smiles besides the butchered bodies was... difficult. Hell, you could effortlessly imagine a photo of yourself alongside theirs with how similar their bodies were to yours.

The voices of your colleagues around you seemed distant as your eyes read the current details of the case. Over the course of 4 months, seven women of varied ethnicities, between the ages of 19 and 25, had all been found dumped naked in a variety of locations in a large town in Texas. Their bodies were butchered and there was evidence of violent sexual assault. A chilling detail was each victim had had their blood drained entirely. You couldn't stop your eyes from drifting back to the photos of their faces.

"(L/n)?"

You blinked, looking up to see who had spoken. All eyes were on you, causing you to wince slightly.

"Yeah?"

Beside you, Emily placed her hand on your arm.

"You alright?" She asked quietly. You were quiet for a moment.

"Oh, yeah I'm... fine. I was just reading the details." You managed to murmur.

"Any thoughts so far?" Rossi cut in, staring at you intently.

"Mhm, this killer holds a lot of resentment towards fat women from the way they've sliced and butchered their bodies. The blood draining is a bit unusual, however I don't think it's for ritualistic purposes."

"What do you suspect it to be about?" JJ spoke. You narrowed your eyes a little as you thought about it.

"I'm... not sure. Maybe there isn't a purpose other than to get rid of the mess."

Beside you, the leather of the chair Hotch sat on creaked under his movement when he closed his copy of the casefile and pushed away from the table.

"We'll continue to discuss theories on the plane. For now, get yourselves ready to go. Wheels up in thirty." He concluded and stood up from his seat, everyone else following along. You closed your file and made a move to follow behind Emily, when the familiar touch of Hotch's hand grasped your wrist gently again. "(L/n), a word."

Helplessly, you watched everyone file out of the room and you sighed gently. His hand dropped away and as you glanced down at your feet you could feel his scrutinizing stare.

"I need you to remain by my side for this case." He said bluntly.

"Huh?"

You frowned at him. This certainly wasn't what you thought he was going to say. You watched as his brow creased.

"I want to keep an eye on you."

What? You blinked at him.

"Why's that, sir? I don't quite follow."

"I don't want to be insensitive but you have seen the victims the unsub targeted. I just want to make sure you're safe." Hotch explained in as gentle of a way he had ever spoken to you. Oh... You swallowed thickly and nodded once.

"I see. Uh, well I appreciate it, sir. I should be okay though, I have you all around me after all."

It was your boss' turn to frown now, evidently displeased with your response. But he didn't push it, picking his casefile off the table and fixing his watch around his wrist.

"If you insist. But I don't approve of this though."

You nodded and cleared your throat, following him as he stalked out of the conference room. As he made a right turn towards his office, you continued forward until you were with the others again. JJ was the first to break the air of curiosity.

"What did Hotch want?" She asked you as she checked she had everything she needed in her go bag. You sighed and crossed over to your desk.

"Said he wants me to stay by his side, given the nature of what we're dealing with."

"And are you doing that?" Derek asked, eyeing you pointedly. You shook your head.

"I don't really want to have to hang back from working on this case as much as I intend on doing so."

Emily lightly nudged you when she approached your desk, her bag slung over one shoulder.

"Maybe he has a point though." She offered but you scrunched your nose up.

"I also don't really feel like spending the whole time with someone who acts like I'm as worthy of their time as a plank of rotting wood would be." You muttered to yourself as you shoved the casefile in your bag, missing the uncomfortable shared glances of your team mates when the subject of your conversation approached the group.

You felt Emily nudge you again and you straightened up, sealing your bag shut.

"Alright, alright I'm ready to go n..ow..." she wasn't looking at you, you realised, and your body tensed when you heard him speak.

"Let's head out." Agent Hotchner said roughly and turned to leave, face sour. Damn, you strongly hoped he hadn't heard you just now but judging from his expression you knew he must have done. Sighing softly, you picked your bag up and swung it over your shoulder. And followed behind the others to head to the airport. It was never a good idea to start a case off with conflict.

Work began immediately when the team met up with the Police department in Memphis, with everyone splitting up to take care of different tasks. Much to your relief, Hotch had teamed you up with Derek to visit the bar the latest victim had been last seen before her disappearance and murder. Despite the time in the day it was rowdy inside, a significant hum of conversation ever present as the two of you navigated around to interview staff and patrons. So far, there had been no luck though with finding any information on whoever was responsible for the crimes.

As your eyes drifted around the room they settled on a young woman who had just entered the bar. She stood around five feet six inches tall with dyed red curls which ended around her shoulders and her figure was similar to your own, albeit slightly bigger. Someone the unsub would target, you thought to yourself bitterly. Her eyes found you and she nervously approached you, gaze darting around. Nudging Derek subtly, you met the girl halfway across the bar. She was shaking.

"Hey, I'm agent (Y/n) (L/n) and this is agent Derek Morgan of the FBI. Are you alright?" You asked her gently and she cleared her throat.

"You're... you're investigating the murders, aren't you?" Her voice was quiet. You nodded and brought your hands up to take hold of her arms.

"I understand it's very frightening right now, but we're here to do whatever we can to find this person."

Derek eyed the young woman, gaze sincere but analysing.

"Do you have anyone of note who could be a person of interest?" He questioned her. Her eyes flitted to him.

"I... I'm not sure. There's a lot of people who treat us badly," She shifted around, folding her arms close to her body. "J-just five months ago there was a girl who got- um, assaulted because she rejected someone. She was like us, a bigger woman."

Derek's frown deepened.

"Is there records of the assault?"

She shook her head.

"Only of her initial report and visit to the hospital. She was um, too scared to say who it was." She scrunched her eyes shut for a second and shuddered. "H-her name was Amelia Dougherty."

A coldness sunk deep within your abdomen and you fought off the twitch of your lower lip. That was the first victim found dead four months ago. You offered a gentle squeeze of her arms.

"What's your name, lovey?" You said sweetly, feeling the young woman relax under your touch slightly.

"Carla. Carla Reynolds, ma'am."

Your thumbs soothingly brushed against her arms, hopeful she took it as encouragement.

"Well, Carla. I want to thank you for talking to us today. Right now though I need you to head home, protect yourself. Try your best not to go out and about alone if you can help it, yeah?" You instructed her and she nodded.

"Okay..."

With one last squeeze, you let go of her and smiled faintly. Beside you, Derek slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small rectangle of card.

"If you think of anything or see anything suspicious, call my number. Thank you for your time, Miss Reynolds." He said politely, but not unkindly and you both watched as she quickly left the bar. You exhaled softly and turned to the man beside you.

"We certainly know the possible trigger that started this whole murder spree." You murmured. The man beside you nodded and pulled his phone from his pocket with the intention to make a call.

"We'll head back to the station with what we know. I'm gonna ask Garcia for any files on assault reports within the last few months before the murders." He said as he pressed his phone to his ear.

"Sure, I'll just have one last sweep around."

As the man turned to make a call, you let your eyes drift around the room again to analyse everyone. None seemed to stand out, nor were there any other larger women around at this point. Distantly, you could hear Derek chatting lightly to Penny on the other end of the line but you paid little mind to it. But as you turned around to make your way outside a flurry of people entered the bar and, as a consequence, someone bumped into you and caused you to stumble.

"Hey! Watch it, man!" You heard your companion snap, but whoever it was had long since disappeared into the crowd. You sighed and fixed your clothing.

"It's fine, Der. We have more important things to focus on right now anyway." 

You could tell from the expression on Derek's face that he was reluctant to let this drop, but he didn't challenge you. And at this point he had finished the call anyway, so without any further delay the two of you headed outside to drive back to the station.

There were no patterns between any of the assault victims from before the murders. All were a much wider range of women, a wider age range, varying body types and there was a multitude of perpetrators committing these assaults as opposed to one, who was suspected to be acting alone committing the murders. And this didn't even include male victims either. The first day of the case was chalking up to being a frustrating dead-end.

Standing in front of the whiteboard that was covered in tacked on pictures and scrawled out notes, you rubbed a hand over your face as you felt your brain turn into cotton in your skull. It was then you felt a presence beside you, causing you to stiffen slightly.

"Got anything?" You heard the soft, deep rumble of Hotch's voice. You exhaled. As you glanced to your side you realised how close to one another you were and the scent of his cologne hit your senses. It made your head feel a bit fuzzy.

"Other than what we already have, no. Maybe just theories on why the unsub picked out these women in particular." You murmured.

"Let's talk about them."

You turned to him with a slight nod, eyes reluctant to leave the board.

"Well, the photographs; the body language suggests a lot of discomfort. The women don't really like being the centre of attention. They're insecure." You began, motioning to the pictures of the victims from when they were still alive. "The unsub will have taken advantage of this, approaching the women in clubs and bars to flirt with them."

Hotch hummed, his focus entirely on you.

"It would seem likely, yes."

"But why go with the guy if they were so insecure?" A different voice chimed into the conversation, causing the two of you to turn. Behind you, Spencer stared with a furrowed brow and you sighed gently.

"If you're in a position where you've never had anyone show interest in you, or at least never seem genuine about it, it really messes with your self esteem. So having someone spend time with you flirting with you will inevitably cause you to drop your defense a bit. Because, well, you've never experienced this before." You turned to the board again and grabbed one of the markers to write some notes down. "With this I can only imagine the unsub is definitely above average in attractiveness but not so much to the point where the victims wouldn't trust their supposed interest."

"Most likely in the late twenties to early thirties. But we'll continue the profile with fresh eyes in the morning." Hotch said and he motioned to address the others. "We should stop for the night and check in to the hotel. We'll be up early in the morning."

There was a mutual sound of agreement from your colleagues but before you could say anything more to your unit chief, he was walking away briskly and pulling his phone out of his pocket to seemingly make a call. He never seemed to linger around you more than what was required of him. You puffed out a breath and capped the pen in your hand again before setting it down. To your left, you were aware of Emily approaching you.

"Sooo..." She began and you huffed.

"Oh, don't start."

"I didn't say anything!"

With a scowl you turned to her, noting the grin she was trying desperately to fend off. You folded your arms.

"Don't be sly with me, dumbass." You spat and she chuckled.

"You know I don't mean any ill-will. Just wondering how you're getting on."

You scoffed.

"Yeah, yeah sure you are."

"Well, I'm sure it's not easy working beside the man you're definitely not interested in!"

A tired grumble left you as you crossed the room to grab your casefile.

“Girl, we are literally trying to solve a serial murder case right now. I got no time to be thinking about anything but this.”

Emily chuckled and leaned her weight onto her hand braced on the table in the centre of the room.

“I know you’re struggling hard not to think about him though.”

You jabbed her with your elbow and scowled at her.

“That’s enough out of you. Now come on, we’re done for the day.” You said and tucked the manila folder under your arm, not missing the little chuckle from the raven haired woman. Once everyone was ready to depart, you found yourself in the same car as the girls and Reid, sitting in the back as you scrolled through your phone. There was a group chat you all used, originally created for strictly case related situations, but with Garcia around there was no way it was going to remain professional for long. And so now it was a mix of light-hearted conversation and sharing as well as more serious messages. The aforementioned had sent a series of messages in response to knowing you were all retiring for the night and you idly sent your own, typically the one to try and send things that would bring a smile to everyone’s faces. The lights from distant buildings and streetlamps would occasionally light up the interior of the car, illuminating your grip on your phone and the face of Reid sitting beside you in the back seat.

Before long, you had reached your destination following behind the car Derek, Rossi and Hotch were in. After parking up, you all grabbed your bags and trailed in behind the two eldest members of the team as they strode towards the reception desk. After a few minutes, the remainder of you decided to take up the couches in the foyer, realising Hotch and Rossi were taking longer than you thought to sort out the rooms. This was not a good sign, only further proven when they turned to the group, mild agitation on their faces. You sighed.

“Oh no, they don’t look too happy, do they?” You mumbled to Derek, leaning towards him. He chuckled.

“No, they do not. I can only imagine what that means.”

And soon enough the situation was brought to light.

“There was a mishap with the booking and there’s no longer enough rooms for one each,” Hotch said flatly, his shoulders slumped and his jaw clenched. “We’ll have to double up.”

Shit. Your eyes flicked to Emily immediately and your heart jolted upon realising she was staring at you with a widening grin. Oh no.

She pushed up off the couch and grabbed her bag, throwing the strap over her shoulder.

“Let’s go, JJ.” She declared and the blonde woman’s head shot up, gaze switching between the two of you. And much to your dismay, she too stood up and followed Emily to grab their room keys.

“Sure.”

Your eyes drifted towards Derek and Reid, feeling slightly hopeful knowing Derek didn’t often enjoy sharing with the young doctor. It startled you when he winked at you, then dragged the wild-haired man to stand up with him.

“C’mon, pretty boy. It’s you and me now.”

Reid seemingly had nothing to say, his brow crooked as slight confusion settled in. Now all that remained was the last two eldest members. Slowly, you turned to look at the eldest.

“...Rossi?”

“Actually, you’ll be sharing with me.” the man beside him spoke, drawing your attention. Hotch eyed you carefully, his brows pulled together slightly. You swallowed.

“I could always take the single room..?” you offered weakly.

“No, I would feel more at ease if you were sharing.”

Rossi raised his brows as he sniffed loudly, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

“And I need my peace and quiet, so I will take the single.” he said and before you could protest the seasoned agent spun on his heel and retreated towards the elevators.

You sighed gently, slowly rising to your feet and awkwardly approaching Hotch.

“Okay… I guess that leaves us then.”

“Yes. If you don’t mind.” he said, brows pulled together. You held your tongue.

“I don’t.”

With a slight nod, he turned away to find the elevators and you quickly followed, pattering after him with your go-bag held at your side. Hotch reached the elevators quickly, holding the doors open for you then pressing the number for your floor. The ride up was silent, painfully so and despite being less than a minute long it felt as though the seconds had been dragged out to an hour long. Tiredly, you dumped your bag in front of you, eyes wandering around the steel walls around you the longer the ride took. Should you speak? You had no idea, unsure what to even say to the man. As though feeling the same discomfort, Hotch cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to another in the empty space the both of you were in. The chime of the elevator stopping to open its doors startled you, blinking a few times at the sound.

As you turned your attention to your bag, Hotch’s hand appeared in view and briskly grabbed the handles of your bag and picked it up. You gasped, looking up at him and realising he was watching you. You drew in a sharp breath.

“Um, thanks.”

“Mhm.”

Once again, he held the elevator door open with his elbow, his hands full with your bag and his. You didn’t comment on it, instead smiling sheepishly and uttering another ‘thank you’ as you passed him. He led the way again, stalking down the carpeted corridor until he stopped in front of a random door. He placed the bags down and made a move to unlock the door, the keys jangling being the only noise in that moment. You both heard the click of the lock coming loose and, after picking the bags up again, Hotch pushed the door open to step inside. But as you followed, you bumped into his solid form and earned a quiet grunt from him, not expecting him to have stopped so suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” you wondered aloud, inching around him to see the problem- oh. Hm.

One king-sized bed sat in the centre of the room against the left wall, not the two beds you were both expecting. Fuck.

“I’ll return to the front desk and see if there’s anything they can do to change this.” Hotch said and you turned to look back at him.

“You know there isn’t anything available, though. Let’s just, um, head in and sort out in the morning.”

The longer you stared at the seeming displeasure on his face, the worse you began to feel about sharing with him. Great, he probably was regretting this now.

“Are you certain?”

It made you frown.

“I’m tired, sir. I just want to have a shower and get some rest.” you muttered. He let out a heavy sigh, deepening the uncomfortable feeling in your lower abdomen, but relented by following you inside the room and closing the door when he had deposited the bags onto the bed.

“You can take the first shower.” he offered quietly and your face twitched into a miniature smile.

“Thanks. Won’t be long. You can choose which side to sleep on.”

Unpacking your toiletries and your (regretful choice) of pyjamas, you tiptoed towards the shower room after kicking your shoes off. Hotch had already made claim of the table in the room, spreading out his work across the surface. You closed the door behind you quickly when he shrugged his suit jacket off and loosened his tie, electing to restrict yourself from seeing him in anything less than his standard clothing for your own wellbeing.

You began to undress, untucking your shirt from your trousers, when you finally noticed something truly off.

Your FBI ID was gone. With one brow quirked, you searched through your pockets and in your toiletry bag, expecting to have maybe misplaced it in a sleepy state. But no… You swallowed thickly and opened the shower room door again. Automatically, Hotch’s head moved to your direction from where he was seated on the side of the bed nearest the hotel room door and he tilted his head.

“What is it?”

You cleared your throat.

“U-uhm… My ID; it’s gone.”

Wooooooo spooooky idk idk I HOPE PPL ENJOYED THIS FIRST PART it's not gonna be jolly from here on out until the end 🥴 if you'd like to be tagged let me know!

Taglist:

@southernraven, @deludedfruitcake , @tgskitten , @zaddyhotch , @cm-slvts-31 , @dins-cyarika @midnghtprentiss

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x plus size!reader #aaron hotchner x plus size reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #hotch x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader

[megamindsecretlair]

The Secret David Kane Files

Do not copy or repost my work. Reblogs are encouraged. Do not use my work to train AI. 18+ only. Minors do not interact.

David Kane x Black!reader Fics

Cold on Me - All Parts

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret David Kane Files #David Kane x Black!reader #David Kane x Black reader #x Black reader #David Kane x Fem!reader #David Kane x Fem reader #x Fem reader #David Kane x plus size reader #David Kane fanfic #David Kane fan fic #David Kane fan fiction #David Kane fanfiction #yahya abdul mateen ii #Aquaman fanfic #Aquaman fan fic #Aquaman fan fiction #Aquaman fanfiction #DC universe #DC fanfic #DC fan fic

[chubbyreaderchan]

We Aren’t A Joke | Poly!Lost Boys x Plus Size! G/N Reader

Warnings: Fatshaming, self-hatred, touchy vampires, nothing else. They/them pronouns but can be read as any gender really, no editing,  

A/N: This might end up being its own little thing because there’s more I want to write but this just needed out of my head. I think I want to have blurbs with this reader and the boys and such. 

The boardwalk was practically empty. The holiday season had passed and the lull between Christmas and spring break was in full swing. David was in an almost trancelike state, staring at no one, in particular, his belly was warm and full from the hunt the night before. Truly, a night of relative quiet for the rowdy bikers.

David tossed his cigarette over the side of the pier into the water below, he opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Paul.

“Holy shit,”

David looked at Paul and then in the direction he was staring, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. The cool wind picked up just then and he had to hold back an animalistic groan at the smell that washed over him.

Hell, he could practically feel all of his mates grumbling at the smell. David hadn’t realized he’d shut his crystal blue eyes until they fluttered back open to see what he knew was the next member of their little family.

He wanted them. He wanted them… now.

They hadn’t even looked at him and his boys, their plump little future mate was enticed by a table of trinkets. David couldn’t resist raking over their sexy body, taking in each soft curve and dip. Cute. Very cute. They were in a thick sweater, one much too big on them which was only slightly disappointing for David, hugely disappointing for Paul who was practically bouncing to get to them.

In fact, David watched as Paul bounded over like a golden retriever.

“Hey, sugar,” he said into their ear. “You all alone tonight?”

They backed up in surprise and glanced behind Paul at the other boys who were watching in love-sick awe. David could hear their heart race.

“I’m not interested,” they said quickly.

Paul looked like he was gut punched.

“Aw, come on babe. We can go for a ride. Get something to eat,” He almost sang out.

David had a feeling he should have been the first one to talk to their mate, not Paul. David and the other boys began to close in on the two.

“I just don’t want to be a part of… whatever this is… joke… dare…. Whatever.”

“Joke,” David seethed. “You think we’re a joke,”

They bit their lip. “Not necessarily you. I’m the butt of the joke here,”

Dwayne looked at them, thinking. He had a bad feeling about this whole situation, and he could feel the radiation of rage off of Marko. All of them would fight for any of their mates, but Marko was always the first to jump in. Swing fists and fangs and ask questions later.

“We just want to get to know you, sugar. You are just… irresistible,” Paul smiled. “At least tell us your name?”

Despite their better judgment and past experience in these situations, they gave in.

“I’m…(Y/n),” they said awkwardly. “And I don’t want to be part of the ‘dare the friend to ask out the fat person’ game,”

They were getting frustrated; they could feel their usual reaction starting to build. They could all feel it. David moved, pushing Paul back and running a leather-clad hand over their plush cheek. His blue eyes felt like they were reaching inside their soul.

“Sweetheart,” he said, leaning into their ear. “I promise we aren’t going to hurt you,”

His breath was cold, or perhaps the night chill got to them. They tucked their hands around their middle, trying to shield themselves from the cool Santa Carla wind.

“Come on, princex,” David encouraged.

He had them, he just needed to pull them in.

“I-I don’t even know you,” they said with a soft sigh.

They pulled back from David’s grasp, causing him to growl slightly. He didn’t like that. Not at all, even if it’s just from some silly human insecurity. They belonged to him and his boys, they were going to keep them if he had to drag them back to the cave by force.

“I’m Dwayne,” spoke the quietest. “That is David. Marko. And Paul. We promise we aren’t going to hurt you, princex,”

His words were so sincere. The way he looked at them made their heart flutter.

They sighed, defeated. Marko smiled approaching them and throwing an arm around them in whatever way he could reach. His fingers pressed into their soft flesh and he wanted to die at the softness. Hell, he would die for their softness, and he barely knew them.

“Dove, we are going to keep you safe,” the cherub said.

“I’m sorry, but how often do four very beautiful men come up to a fat person and really want to be around them… in any capacity? I don’t want to be abandoned in some parking lot in the middle of nowhere just because it’s funny to mess with ‘piggy’” they air quoted.

“The fuck?” Paul said loudly.

“Yeah, what the actual fuck. Who did that?” Marko was gripped onto them tighter, almost bruising the soft flesh.

David snaked his arm around them nudging a silently protesting Marko away. They began to walk, their human in the middle as they flanked them.

“Why don’t we go for a ride, kitten? I’ll prove that we want nothing but the best for you, sweetheart,” David promised. “You’ll ride with me,”

“Ride?” they were in front of four motorcycles that seemed to reflect each boy’s personality. “Oh, I’ve never--,”

A gentle pinch at their ribs caused them to squeak adorably, Marko walked around them with a smirk.

“Don’t worry, it’s fun.” The smallest of the group said.

He had a devilish grin that (Y/n) couldn’t help but find heart-meltingly cute. Without warning, David wrapped his arms around their middle, as if they had been dating for years and it was the most natural thing.

“I promise to keep you safe, just trust me,”

The scruff of his facial hair rubbed against their tender skin, and they could have sworn the bleach blonde took in a deep breath of their scent.

David mounted his bike and held out his hand to help them onto the back of his. Once on, he grabbed their hands and forced them to press directly against his back wrapping their arms firmly around his middle.

They just felt… right.

#the lost boys x reader #poly lost boys x reader #david x reader #paul x reader #marko x reader #dwayne x reader #tlb x reader #tlb x you #tlb imagines #lost boys x chubby reader

[lumoverheaven]

Sad Little Girl

Mood board by my lovey love @iamasaddie tysm 💗

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Joel Miller x fem!plus size!reader

A/n: hello everyone! I’m back with an actual fic! This one is near and dear to my heart and very personal to me, I hope you enjoy it! Big s/o to @xdaddysprincessxx for proofreading! Ilysm mama 💗💗💗 This fic was made with game!joel in mind! As always constructive criticism is welcome! Enjoy! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! 🫶🫶💗💗 (reupload to see if it shows on tags bc tumblr is fucking me hardcore rn.)

Warnings: mentions of SA and heavy trauma, age gap (reader is in her 20s Joel is in his 50s), death of a loved one, also David is mentioned. If I missed any lmk!

W/c: 1.5k

* ・‥…━━━━━━━ *˖◛⁺♡ ━━━━━━━…‥・

Growing up during the apocalypse wasn’t fun. There were many horrible, disgusting men that would do whatever they wanted. The need to survive set aside, they fucked with other people, especially women to get their twisted pleasure. You had fallen victim to that terrible abuse, but out of some sick and twisted mercy the most that had been done to you was being touched inappropriately and had a man expose himself to you. Worst of all? It was in your own home.

Your dad was a part of the smuggling circle and would often have his colleagues over to discuss routes, plans, and merchandise. One of his least trusted associates was the one that tortured you to no end. Because of that you didn’t feel like yourself, you didn’t feel like a girl. As the days passed you wore baggier clothing, you cut your hair to your shoulders, you bound your chest to get rid of any semblance to a woman. What also helped was that you were bigger than the average girl, you thought that maybe you looked broader, more like a male. This was how you coped, how you pushed everyone away.

When you found out your father died it was like a bucket of cold water to your skin. You didn’t know what you were gonna do or how you were gonna get by. A few days after you received the news about your father, there was a knock on your apartment door. Grabbing one of your father’s weapons you hesitantly opened it to find Joel Miller, your dad’s most trusted acquaintance. You lower your weapon and stepped aside to let him in.

“Hey bunny..” Joel began, you never understood why he called you that, based on your appearance you were nothing like a bunny. Not cute, not soft, not friendly.. You were the opposite. “Sorry ‘bout your dad.. Look, your pa on one occasion told me that if anythin’ were ta happen to ‘im for me to take care of ya.. Now I know you're a grown woman that can make her own decisions and take care of herself but I still wanted to offer ya a place to stay.. I know how awful solitude can be and I really care ‘bout ya..”

You had to process what he was telling you but you liked Joel, though you had some very negative interactions with men in the past, he was the only one you trusted aside from your father. You nodded your head in agreement and as the days and weeks progressed you moved your things little by little to his and Tess’ apartment.

You kept to yourself most of the time, mostly passing your time by drawing, reading, or listening to music when you didn’t work. Tess and Joel would sometimes let you go with them to their smuggling jobs but Joel would keep you close.

Joel noticed something was up with you, he noticed your change from the beginning. While your father thought nothing of it he noticed when his cheery-eyed bunny lost the spark in her eyes and became dull. He wanted to talk to your father about it but he felt like it wasn’t his place to say anything. He noticed how you presented yourself, manlier than you used to be and more quiet. Now this change he mentioned to your father.

“Hey man, I noticed somethin’ up with bunny.. Why she dressin’ like that suddenly? Seems like a drastic change..”

But your dad always brushed it off saying it was a phase that you were going through but Joel knew it was more than that.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

It had been a few months that you had been staying with Joel and Tess when one day after Joel and Tess went after Robert, Joel came back with a 14 year old girl named Ellie. You looked at Joel surprised and he pulled you aside to a room to talk about what was happening. He and Tess were going to deliver this girl to the fireflies at the capital and it wasn’t going to take them long.

“I wanna come.” you told Joel, he shook his head “Nah, just me ‘n Tess.. Too dangerous..” That answer didn’t satisfy you. “I’m coming with you. Whether you like it or not.” and you left to go where Ellie was. Joel chuckled lowly and shook his head again, he knew better than to argue with you, you were a little spitfire, just like your dad.

When your journey began you kept to yourself and only spoke if you heard something or needed something. Ellie tried to talk to you but you would only respond with a nod or a shake.

“What’s up with her.. Him? Nah her?” she asked Tess and Tess chuckled. “I don’t know, kid, she’s a nice lady, just quiet is all.” Joel took that chance to check up on you.

“Ya alright? Need anythin’?” you shook your head and Joel left you be.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Your trip had gone sour, Tess was dead and now you were on route to Lincoln. Tess’ death hit you hard but you know you have to be strong for both Ellie and Joel. After you had all processed her death you figured it would be best to open up now since it was only the three of you left. You began talking more and found that you shared a lot of things in common with Ellie. You two became quickly attached and while Joel did his best to ignore you both, being the ever stoic and grumpy man he is, he was still really happy that you opened up.

Little by little Joel noticed a positive change in you, the sparkle in your eyes was slowly returning and now you openly were conversing and laughing with both Joel and Ellie. Your progress was quickly squandered though when Joel got hurt and by events with David, a creepy school teacher turned psycho cult leader. You took care of Joel while weeping silently, you were scared you were gonna lose the man you trusted, the man you felt safe with. You know you should’ve gone hunting, you know what happened with Ellie is your fault. You both scrambled as you tried to lead David and his men as far away from Joel as possible. But in the end you both got caught. You and Ellie were held in different areas but you panicked as you saw the disgusting look in his eyes. You knew exactly what he wanted to do with you and especially Ellie.

After what happened with Ellie it triggered your PTSD and you just held Ellie as you both wept. You both had been fairly quiet on the trip to the hospital. It killed Joel to not just see one of his girls be quiet and devoid of life but both of them. Especially since you had come such a long way.

That night when Ellie slept he approached you and asked if you both could talk. You agreed and followed him a little away from the camp not to disturb Ellie’s sleep but still keeping a close eye on her.

“Bunny… I’m sorry ‘bout what happened.. you ‘n Ellie didn’t deserve that.. I shoulda been there to protect y’all..” of course Joel blamed himself when it wasn’t his fault at all.. with a sigh you begin to speak. “It’s not your fault Joel.. it’s mine.. I should’ve been more careful towards Ellie.. she.. we..” you burst out crying and for once you felt the warm embrace of someone who loved you. You would cry by yourself at nights, not wanting to disturb your dad with your seemingly insignificant issues.. but for once you cry and you just get held.. you craved that more than anything else.. as much as it pained you, you told Joel everything that happened in the QZ for years before your father died.. he clenched his jaw and held you tighter..

“I wish ya woulda said somethin’ bunny.. never liked that freak anyway.. woulda killed ‘em for ya..” Joel whispers as his lips pressed into your hair. You chuckled and just let the tears fall. It felt good to get it off your chest, to let Joel in.. you felt safe, you felt secure in his arms.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

When you return to Jackson, you’re a whole new person. You and Joel live together in a house while Ellie lives in her shed. You’ve begun to let your hair grow out again, decorating it with cute hair accessories you would find, you’re wearing pretty, fitting clothing, even dresses! Joel sees how brightly you’re shining. No longer are you the shy quiet girl that people assumed was a brute boy. You changed totally. You were truly beautiful in his eyes. You were thankful for Joel, he made you feel safe, he made you feel true peace. Enough to where you felt like you didn’t have to protect yourself anymore, enough to where you could finally be yourself and not worry about getting hurt. He would protect you, he would be there for you. You were his bunny, you finally felt at home.

* ・‥…━━━━━━━ *˖◛⁺♡ ━━━━━━━…‥・

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x plus size reader #joel miller x you

[crowleysgirl67]

Family Business

Author: @crowleysgirl67

Word Count: 3782

Parings/Characters: NCIS team, BAU, (Y/N) Gibbs, Hotch x Reader (eventual)

Warnings: NCIS/CM crossover, show warnings, angst,   

A/N: Thanks for reading! Loosely based on NCIS S3 E 23/24 the hiatus,

“(Y/N)” 

You turned at the sound of your name and smiled as you saw your dad approach with Fornell in tow. You abandoned your new team mates, who watched with curiosity, and met him in a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“We had other business to discuss and I mentioned you and your team were here.” Fornell chuckled. “You know he can’t resist seeing you.”

“Please you’re the same way with Emily.” your smile never faded.

“Plus he wants to scope them out ya know how dads are.” Fornell smirked as Gibbs rolled his eyes.

“Well come on then. I’ll introduce you.” you hooked your arm through your dads and led him over to the team. 

“Special Agent Gibbs, this is my team Dr. Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, David Rossi, Jennifer Jareau, and Emily Prentiss. Penelope Garcia is our tech analyst who isn’t in the group right here. Nor is our team leader Agent Hotchner.” He gives a slight nod as you introduce everyone, obviously sizing them up a bit. 

“Guys this is Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS.” 

“Gibbs?” Morgan questions, looking between the two of you.

“My father.” you smiled, glancing over at him catching the small smile that graced his face before it disappeared. 

Hotch emerged from his office and appeared at the top of the steps, looking down watching. Rossi spotted him and waved him down, “Come meet Agent Gibbs”

Confusion crosses his face as he comes down the steps, “I’ve already met her, she's on the team.”

“Not me Hotch.” you smiled and rolled your eyes. 

His attention shifted to Gibbs “Special Agent Aaron Hotchner.” he introduced himself. 

“Special Agent Gibbs” he shook his hand in a firm grasp. 

You shook your head slightly as they sized each other up. You understood he just wanted to make sure you were safe, but sometimes it was ridiculous. Their weird spell was broken when a cell rang, Gibbs unclipped it from his belt and answered “Gibbs.”

He took a few steps away to listen to his call. When he was finished you approached him to say goodbye knowing he had to go. After your goodbyes you headed back over to the team.

“What?” you asked, feeling a little weird as they stared at you. 

“So that was your dad huh? Interesting guy.” Morgan says.

You shrug, “He’s my dad.” you did worry that they were profiling him but you didn’t dwell on it as Hotch beckoned everyone to the conference room. Time for another case.

***

“What the hell was that?!” Hotch shouted at you. 

“What do you mean what was that? It’s my fucking job!” you seethed. Who the hell did he think he was? You did your job, you weren’t out of line.

“You could have been hurt, or worse.” 

“So could anybody! Rossi, Derek, you! Any of us could!” you crossed your arms.

“You’re different.”  

“How the fuck am I different?”

“You’re young, you haven’t been doing this as long.”

“Are you kidding me? I’ve been doing this since I was eighteen.”

“Under your father, sure.”

Your jaw dropped, “Your excuse is that I’m inexperienced because my dad taught me? My father is one of the best damn agents there is and I will not stand here and take this.” you stormed off.  

***

You clenched your jaw but kept quiet. The plane ride was tense and you felt a little bad for the others that they couldn’t relax a little because Hotch was mad at you, again. It wasn’t as if you tried to get in trouble, it was just something about him treating you differently than the rest of them that pissed you off. Sure you were the youngest but that didn’t mean you weren’t capable. Hell you’d been doing this for years. This work was in your blood, who you were.

Protecting people was your job, even if it meant you were in harms way. Standing in front of that kid today was no different. The unsub had been waving a gun around and the kid would have been in the crossfire if you hadn’t stepped in. 

By the time the plane landed you’d finished your reports and dropped them in front of Hotch as you deboarded faster than the rest of them. You were half way across the tarmac by the time they got off. 

“Who the hell is that?” Morgan asks as you run up to a man in a red sports car.

“Does she have a boyfriend?” JJ asked.

“She’s never mentioned one. Can anybody see him clearly? Maybe it’s just her dad. We don’t know what kind of car he drives.” Emily suggests. “I think his name is Tony.” Spencer joins them on the ground.

“Slow down, pretty boy. How do you know that?” Morgan looks at him.

“I caught a glimpse of her cell phone screen when she was texting.” he shrugs as they watch you get in the car and the two of you take off.  

***

When you walked in Monday morning you headed straight for Hotch’s office. Might as well get the yelling over with. You were feeling a little better after spending the weekend with your dad and friends. Ziva and you did a little sparring to help you work out some of your aggression. You flex your bruised and a little bit bloodied knuckles and roll your shoulder a bit where she’d gotten a good hit in. Open handed you tapped on Hotch’s door in lieu of knocking. 

“Come in.” he said without looking up. 

You walked in and shut the door, which made him look up. He regarded you as you crossed your arms waiting for him to start. 

Instead of yelling he said, “You’re hurt.” 

“Oh this is nothing. Just did some sparring over the weekend.” you shrug off his comment. You’d had worse which actually caused permanent bone pain.

He looked pointedly at your bruised knuckles, “Since when does sparring do that?”

“When you spar with a former Mossad officer. She is ruthless.” you chuckle softly.

“Was there something you needed?”

“Uh.. You’re not gonna yell at me? You were pretty pissed earlier.” you were confused. You had expected to be yelled at not this.

“No. Anything else?”

“Uh… I guess not.”

He nodded and went back to his work effectively dismissing you. You left his office confused, not that you minded not being yelled at. In fact it was nice not to be, but you were confused why he had a change of heart. It crossed your mind that one of the others might have said something to him. You were with them all weekend you didn’t see how they could have. 

“Yo (Y/N). You ok?” Morgan asked, walking up beside you. 

“Huh? Oh. Yeah I’m fine.” you answered distractedly.

“Yeah cuz you sound fine. What’s up?” he slung his arm over your shoulder. 

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. But thank you for your concern, that's sweet.”

“Ok, I’ll drop it if you answer a question for me.” he grins.

“You want to know who picked me up?” you guessed.

“Exactly. So who is he?”

“Tonys a friend, he works with my dad.”

“Just a friend huh?” he raised a brow at you.

“Yes.” you roll your eyes and nudge him, “He’s like my big brother. You tryin’ suss out if I’m dating anyone? Because the answer is no.”

He didn’t get to say anything else as JJ came over.

“Conference room in five.” she said as she passed. 

“Ya heard the lady.” you chuckled and ducked from under his arm and headed that direction. 

After the case debrief, everyone scattered to gather their things to meet on the plane. You were the last one out as you slipped your phone from your pocket and sent a group text to Tony, Ziva, Mcgee and you included Abby. Although you were sure it wasn’t her she would get a kick out of this.

*Alright, which one of you did it? Fess up.* you sent the text and grabbed your bag after making it back to your desk. Their responses rolled in quickly.

*Ooh you’re in trouble* you chuckled to yourself at Abby.

Ziva: *I don’t know what you’re referring to.* 

Tony : *Did what? Whatever it was I plead the fifth*  

You: *Who got to my boss? He didn't yell at me today.*

Ziva: *Is that not a good thing? I am confused. You were just complaining about him yelling at you.*

Abby: *gasp* (Y/N) are you disappointed he didn’t yell at you?

Tony: *Do you like him???*

You: Shut up Tony. 

Abby: *YOU DO!!!! That’s so cute!!!! 

You: YOU’RE MISSIN’ THE POINT! 

You: *Who did it???*

Tim: *I did. I texted him a video from your phone of you sparring with Ziva, with a caption about you being upset about being treated differently. I then deleted the evidence.

Tony: *Go probie! I didn’t know you had it in you.*

You: *Awww Tim. <3 Thank you, that was sweet.*

Tony *Hold up! That’s it? You’re not gonna call him out?*

You: *No, it was sweet.*

Tony: *Sweet?! You’d kick my ass if I talked to him. Hell you’d try to kick Ziva's ass too.*

Ziva: *She would not get far.*

Tim: *I thought she was doing pretty well the other night.*

Ziva: *I was going easy. Gibbs was not too happy with the small bruising she acquired from that.*

Abby: *That’s his baby. Of course he’s unhappy when she’s hurt.*

You: *Guys you realize I’m still here right?* 

Tony: *Back to my point. What the hell (Y/N).*

You: *It’s sweet coming from Tim. He isn’t as gung ho to fuck somebody up over my feelings being hurt as the two of you are. I love that about you but sometimes you gotta just let me bitch.*

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Morgan slid up next to you.  

“Geez fuck!” you jumped and slid your phone in your pocket. You’d been so absorbed in your text conversation you hadn’t heard him approach.

He laughed and you shoved him playfully.

“Didn’t your mama teach you not to sneak up on a lady?” 

“I don’t see Garcia anywhere.” he shoots you a shit eating grin.

“Derek, you are a little brat.” you admonish, but grin back anyway.

*** 

When you arrived at Rossis, you were surprised to see that Hotch and Jack were the only ones there. 

“Am I early? Didn’t you say six?” you asked Rossi as he invited you in.

“I did. You know how everybody is. Fashionably late.”  

“I suppose that’s true.” you chuckled softly. 

“You alright?” he took notice of your arm in a sling. It wasn’t there yesterday after you closed the latest case.

“Yeah. Just an old injury acting up. Keeping it immobilized helps.”

He nods, “Well make yourself at home. We’ll be in full swing before you know it.”

You smiled and made your way in taking a seat near Jack who was coloring. 

“Hi Miss (Y/N).” Jack smiles at you.

“Hey Jack. Whatcha colorin’?”

“Tow Mater.” He shows you his coloring book.

“Wow. He looks really good buddy.” you smiled softly.

“Thanks! Do you wanna color too?”

“Sure. I’d be happy too.” you adjusted the sling a bit before sliding down next to him on the floor.  

Hotch found himself smiling as he watched you color with Jack. You were very attentive to him, even after everyone else arrived. 

“You’re really good with him. Thank you.” Hotch slides next to you on the couch. 

“He’s a good kid. You’ve done well Hotch.”

“I can’t take all the credit, Hailey did most of the work.”    

“You both did great. He seems well adjusted for losing a parent so young. It’s hard.” you watched Jack giggle at some magic trick Spencer was showing him.

“How old were you?” Hotch glanced your way. 

“I was seven.” you rubbed your arm. The accident had robbed you of your mother and twin sister and left you hospitalized for months.    

He squeezed your shoulder gently, “I’m sorry.”

You give him a small smile and pat his hand gently, “I’m sorry too. Losing your spouse is incredibly difficult. I’ve watched my dad all these years.” 

***

You excused yourself when your phone rang and stepped into an empty office to take the call. 

“(Y/N)” Tony's voice was grave over the phone, cluing you into trouble. 

“What’s happened? Who's hurt?” you gripped the edge of the desk with your free hand. 

“There was a bomb your dad…” he started

You didn’t hear anything else as you felt your knees give out and you sunk to the floor. “No! No. no no.” you chanted as you struggled to breathe, to focus. 

The door flung open as Hotch and the others filed in. They had seen you go down, their concerned faces went unnoticed by you.

“Is he alive?” you gripped the phone so hard you thought it’d break.

“Yes...” Tony’s voice faded away as Hotch pried your phone from you to get details. He was alive, the relief swept through you. Whatever else you could deal with as long as he was alive.    

Your brain was in overdrive as you scrambled to your feet, “I’m sorry, I have to go. I have to go.”  

“(Y/N).” Hotch said, making you look at him. “You’re in no shape to drive. I’ll take you.”

“I.. ok.” you nodded. He was right, it was a bad idea for you to drive yourself.  

The ride to the hospital was a blur as you stared out the window trying to compose yourself. Hotch didn’t say anything as he drove, just kept glancing over as he watched the tears slip down your face in silence. 

“(Y/N)!” Abby cried out as she saw you approach.

“Abby” you hug her. “How is he?”

“He’s in a coma.” Abby gives you the grim news.  

***

You hadn’t left the hospital since you got there, and by extension neither had Hotch. You spent most of your time in a chair by his bedside, holding his hand and staring blankly between bouts of tears. It had been three days and you were getting worried he wasn’t going to come out of it. 

You wondered how your feelings had been compared to what he had gone through after coming home to find his wife and one daughter were murdered and his youngest in a medically induced coma to heal from the wreck. If his feelings were half as intense as yours, you didn’t understand why he hadn’t lost his mind. In comparison he hadn’t been in the coma that long, yet you were losing your mind.  

Tony stopped by briefly to check on you and bring you a bag. He knew better than to try to get you to leave. 

“She likes big comfy clothes when she's in distress. Also she bites her lower lip, so watch out for that. She hasn’t done it in a while but I suspect she might start. It’s almost as if it's an unconscious act. She’ll do it until she bleeds so stop her if you catch it.” he said casually as he stood next to Hotch as they watched from outside as you sat in a chair beside Gibbs bed. The large oversized hoodie Tony brought already on you, like a security blanket. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Hotch glanced at him.

“While I may be the joker of the group, I’m not stupid. You care about her.” Tony doesn’t look at him.

“She’s a part of my team of course I do.”

Tony shakes his head, “We both know it's more than that. As her friend I’m speaking for all of us, hurt her we’ll hurt you. She’s been through enough already.”

Hotch can’t help the small smile. He was glad you had such caring friends. 

Tony stepped away to tell you goodbye before returning to work, they still had a case to solve. Hotch watched as you hugged him and pondered his exchange with Tony. 

Director Sheppard had arrived again and you let her have the room. You were currently on the bench outside of the hospital room, head in Aarons lap and asleep as he stroked your hair. He was quietly talking to Dave who had stopped by to check in. The team had started coming in shifts to help relieve him. He had gone home for a little bit to shower, check on Jack and catch a few hours of sleep.

A flurry of activity going into Gibbs room stopped the conversation. Hotch turned as much as he could without waking you to stare into the room to see what was going on. He couldn’t see much with the doctors in the way but he could see the Director's face in relief. Gibbs must have woken up. 

Aaron was reluctant to wake you, as you hadn’t been asleep that long. He knew he needed to but he was determined to give you a few extra minutes or at least until the doctors were through. When they looked to be about done he gently began to rub your back, “(Y/N). Time to get up.”   

It didn’t take him as long as he expected to rouse you and you sat up. You rubbed your hands over your face to wipe away the sleep and looked around. “What’s going on?”

“Miss Gibbs?” the doctor stepped out before Aaron could answer you.

“Special Agent Gibbs.” He corrected the doctor for you.

The doctor took it in stride “Your father is awake.”

You jumped up, “Can I see him? How is he?”

“You can see him but I have to warn you, he has amnesia. He doesn't remember anything from the last fifteen years.”

“Oh no,” You whispered as you wavered on your feet a bit. Hotch stood wrapping an arm around you to keep you steady.

The doctor gives you a sympathetic look, “Try not push him to remember. We want him to try to do that on his own.” 

“Ok.” you nod and turn to look at the director and dad through the window.  

“You don’t have to go in until you're ready, kid.” Rossi gave your shoulder a squeeze.

“Thanks Rossi, but it’s not gonna hurt any less, might as well get it over with.” you gave him a small, unconvincing smile. Hotch dropped his arm allowing you to move freely as you walked to the door. 

You walk through the door and both turn to look at you. 

“Shannon?” he had so much hope in his voice, it hurt. 

The dam breaks and the water works start at him calling you your mother. “No daddy it’s me (Y/N).” 

“You didn’t…” he trails off as he looks at you.

“No. I survived.” you knew what he was trying to say. You made your way over and sat in the chair beside his bed. 

His calloused hand cupped your cheek as he wiped your tears away. Not that that did any good against the steady stream. 

“You look so much like your mother.” 

You let out a half laugh half sob, his pain was probably fresh. In his mind it was fifteen years ago. You had been too young to know the details of when and where he was told. He never talked about it, even after you’d gotten older. He had been deployed when it had occurred, that much you knew.

“They weren’t sure you were going to make it.” 

You met his eyes, surprised he would even talk about it. You weren’t sure how much he remembered yet. Staying silent you let him continue. 

“You died twice. At least that’s what they told me when I was able to come home and see you.”

“I don’t remember much, but I only thought it was once.” you remembered very little about the crash. It was always flashes of memories, you did however vividly remember dying.   

“What do you mean?” he looked at you questioningly.

“I only remember dying once. It was cold and dark and I was scared, but then mom and Kelly were there. Mom..” you cleared the lump in your throat. “Mom said I had to go back. We couldn’t leave you all by yourself. She said I was the strong one, I’d made it this far. Kelly hugged me and said to tell you she loved you and that they were gonna be waiting for us.”  

He was staring at you and something flashed in his eyes as he remembered more. “You never told me that.”

“What was an eight year old me gonna say? You’d just lost your wife and daughter. I lost my mother and twin sister. Really I was too traumatized to do much other than work on healing.” you sniffled. 

He didn’t say anything and scooted over to make room on the tiny hospital bed, before patting beside him. You were careful as you climbed up next to him, you didn't want to hurt him more. He pulled you into his side and kissed your head.   

***

You’d taken two weeks off work to help your dad out. During that time you and Hotch texted everyday even if it was just a check in text. You loved your dad but he was stubborn and you vented to Hotch about it.

You: Am I this bad?

Hotch: What happened now?

You: He’s not resting. I threatened to tie him to the couch unless he took it easy. I’m glad Jenny made him take a little vacay but dude chill!

Hotch: Yes, you have a tendency to be just as stubborn. Like father like daughter I suppose.

You: I deserve that. 🤪

Hotch: It’s not always a bad thing.  

You: You wouldn’t say that if you had to deal with me 24-7. 

“(Y/N) Door.” your dad yelled from the kitchen.

“I’ve got it!” 

You: BRB dad needs me.

You jogged downstairs and answered the door, surprised to see Hotch standing on the other side of it.

“Hotch? What are you doing here?”

“Coming to see you. Got a minute?”

You glanced back in the house, “Yeah sure. Dad, I'm stepping outside!” you shouted and stepped onto the porch. “So what brings you over?”

Hotch shifted on his feet seeming almost nervous. 

“Hey whatever it is you can tell me.” you said softly.

“I feel like a teenager asking out his crush.” he chuckled, “Which is in essence what I’m doing. Would you like to go on a date with me?”

You smiled, “I’d like that.”

“Great, maybe now you can keep her off my ass about stuff.” Gibbs huffed appearing in the doorway.

“Dad!” 

“I’ll try” Aaron laughed.

#Gibbs x Daughter!Reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds #ncis #NCIS/CM crossover

[writersblockiskillingme]

WritersblockiskillingmeMASTERLIST

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE!!

Feel free to send asks and requests. Don't be shy. This is a safe space and no judgment zone. No hate of any kind on this blog will be tolerated.

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Måneskin Masterlist

Damiano David

Thomas Raggi

Ethan Torchio

Marvel Masterlist

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Eurovision Masterlist

Jan Rozmanowski/Jann

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The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes Masterlist

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Characters that I refuse to write for:

Old!Coriolanus Snow (The Hunger Games) -> romantically [I do, however write for, young!Coriolanus Snow]

Seneca Crane (The Hunger Games)

Gale Hawthorne (The Hunger Games)

Lord Voldemort (Harry Potter)

Lucius Malfoy (Harry Potter)

Bellatrix Lestrange (Harry Potter)

Peter Pettigrew (Harry Potter)

Albus Dumbledore (Harry Potter)

Severus Snape (Harry Potter)

Thanos (Marvel)

John Walker (Marvel)

Nick Fury (Marvel)

...that's it for now

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Things I don't write about:

foot fetish

SA kinks

forced pregnancy

innocent!reader

yandere

dark![insert character]/dark!reader

incest

male!reader

romantic ships like Katniss x Haymitch or Peter Parker x Tony Stark...

gn!reader, black!reader or plus size!reader [I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING AGAINST IT, I just don't want to offend anybody by writing something I don't know about ♥︎]

romanticizing depression, anxiety, SA, SH and such

#imagine #fic #masterlist #marvel masterlist #bucky barnes x reader #jan rozmanowski x reader #joker out #bojan cvjeticanin x reader #damiano david x reader #ethan torchio x reader #thomas raggi x reader #requests are open #please request #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds masterlist #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift #johanna mason x reader