#spencer reid x black plus size reader

[tryingtograspctrl]

HAVE A SEAT: SPENCER REID X BLACK PLUS SIZE READER (NSFW)

SUMMARY: Spencer wants to try a new position and you are more than happy to oblige him.

Warning: Face sitting, oral sex, jerking off, cum eating, etc. 18+ only, read at your own risk. Minors DO NOT INTERACT!

You barely made it inside the hotel room before you were pinned against the wall, your boyfriend's hands roaming your body eventually settling on your love handles, mouth crashing against yours in a sloppy but hungry kiss.

The both of you had been so pent up these past few days, your current case causing an overwhelming amount of stress with no way to release it.

You and Spencer went a few hours at most without being intimate which was usually because of work. It had been days, days since you'd done more than exchange small kisses and touches. So when the two of you were finally alone again you wasted no time jumping each other’s bones.

Your fingers slid down his dress shirt, practically ripping off the buttons before tearing it off of him.

He did the same with your blouse, breaking your kiss for a moment to yank it over your head and toss it across the room.

You walked backwards, legs hitting the bed making you fall, back landing on the soft memory foam.

"God knows i missed having these in my mouth." Spencer smirked playfully, rough hands squeezing your breasts.

His lips latched onto your nipple, sucking eagerly.

"Mmm Spence." You whined, your back arching slightly.

Your hands found his belt buckle, loosening it with ease, letting his pants fall down his thighs.

He gasped as you slipped your hand inside his boxers, thumb circling his tip.

He stood up again, pulling his underwear off, practically tripping over himself as he kicked out of them.

"Someone's excited." You giggled propping yourself up on your elbows.

"I'm always excited when i have a pretty girl like you beneath me." He smiled pecking your lips.

"So beautiful." He whispered breathlessly, pupils dilating as his eyes trailed your naked body.

You felt your skin heat up under his gaze, arousal pooling between your legs.

He guided his tip to your entrance, the both of you moaning as he slipped inside of you.

He moved slowly, wanting to take his time, to savor the feeling of your warmth and wetness surrounding him.

He rested on top of you, chest to chest, panting in your ear as you left kisses and love bites on his shoulder.

"You feel so good baby. So, so good." You cooed, nails scratching his back gently.

That got him going, his thrusts speeding up, mouth sucking on your neck harshly. You were gonna have to conceal the hickies tomorrow morning, the team teased the two of you enough and you didn't need to give them anymore material.

"I- I'm close." You announced.

"Let it go for me pretty girl." He went even faster.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, hands gripping the sheets for purchase as he repeatedly slammed into you.

"Shit spence!" You screamed, holding onto him for dear life as you came, legs hooking around his waist, your body stuttering.

He planted kisses all over your face slowing down his thrusts and then stopping them completely once he felt you relax under him.

He pulled out of you slowly, plopping down beside you on his back before pulling you on top of him your hips straddling his waist.

"Baby?" He looked up at you

"Yeah?" You tilted your head to meet his eyes.

"Ride my face." He blurted out.

"What?" You blinked at him, still slightly in a daze.

"Ride. My. Face." He spoke between kisses.

"A-are you sure?" You felt yourself getting wet again.

"Positive." He nodded.

You shimmied up to his head, hovering over him for a second before he grabbed your thighs impatiently, forcing you all the way down.

His mouth latched onto your pussy, licking stripes between your folds.

You rocked your hips slightly, shuddering as the tip of his nose swept across your clit sending shock waves through you.

He hummed in satisfaction, one hand snaking down his body to wrap around his dick, stroking himself, while the other held onto your thigh, fingertips kneading the soft flesh there.

You tugged on his hair, throwing your head back in pleasure as he continued his ministrations, tongue swirling around your core deliciously.

"Spence wait i..." You lifted your hips that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach.

"It's okay, want you to cum on my face." He mumbled, pulling you back down.

You gladly accepted the invitation, rocking against his face eagerly, your body spazzing as the flood gates opened, the knot in your stomach vanishing as you came.

Spencer lapped it all up like he was dying of thirst, not letting a single drop miss his mouth.

You went limp, raising your leg up to get off of him.

"Wait." He held you in place.

You looked down at him, puzzled.

"You think you got one more in you?" He asked smiling dopily.

"I've created a monster." Your eyes widened in disbelief.

Nonetheless you sat back down.

A/N - The semester is about to start so i'll be busy with school meaning i won't be able to upload as frequently as i have been these past few weeks. Hope you guys enjoy this spicy Reid fic in the meantime, no idea when i'll be back with another one, we shall see.🌻

[nobitchs-world]

Me after realizing I look like my father

[flemuer]

Sirius black x plus size!reader

Summary: Sirius messes with one of you friends so now it’s only fair he should be punished

W/C: 1.1k

Warnings: afab!Reader, allusion of smut, pinning!sirius, plus size!reader, fluff, smut???

“Please can we have sex” The soft light from your bedside lamp cast a gentle glow across your dorm room, the rain outside painting a soothing melody against the windowpane. With your roommates off at their boyfriends' dorms for the night, you and Sirius were alone and he wouldn’t leave you alone . "No, Sirius. Lucy is PINK because of you now! You need to not be so reckless and involve innocent people in your stupid acts of revenge.”

Sirius's gaze turned pleading, “It’s a harmless prank! She’ll be back to normal in an hour or two” he shrugged “I didn’t know it was YOUR friend besides she called James ‘a mindless idiot’ ” he said trying to prove a point, you rolled your eyes and clarified “I was there! she was talking about filch not James!” His eyes widened, realising his mistake “I didn’t kn-” you cut him off “I don’t care you have to deal with the consequences, I told you not to mess with any of my friends ” you shrugged,

he rushed sit on his knees beside you to beg for forgiveness but pure intentions turned dirty quickly he’s so frustrated, sexually. And His eyes couldn’t help but trace your thighs that were exposed from your small sleep shorts you picked out just to antagonise him more, then up to your old low cut sleep shirt that hangs perfectly on your shoulders, showing the perfect amount of cleavage, your hair down and a little messy from the day, makeup minimal, you smelled of vanilla and looked so so pretty, it was getting harder to listen to your orders because all he wants to do is kiss your lips and hopefully go further if you let him.

His mind floats to How good he could make you feel, he hasn’t touched you for weeks (18 hours) and he’s getting grumpy, he just needs a small taste so he doesn’t explode and if you’d let him he’d take it slow, savouring the feeling of you, he’d spread you open and just admire your pussy for a moment, and then get to work on it, practically making out with it, slow long licks into you, relishing in your sweet taste, he’d grab your hand and make you grip his hair, letting you guide him however you want, let you use him.

Sirius blinked back to reality, you watched him run a hand through his hair, he needed you so bad and you knew, you just loved to watch him beg. his expression was a mix of frustration and need "A whole week without your touch? That's torture." "It's discipline," you replied firmly, though the hesitation in your eyes might give you away. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before being so impulsive.

"I need youuuuu” he whined, his hand slowly tried to creep up on the side of your face and he leaned in, As Sirius leaned in closer, his breath warm against your lips, you held your ground despite so so badly wanting to give in “Sirius,” You whispered trying to keep a straight face, “I’m serious about this” his hand that has been inching closer to the side of your face, stoped quickly to not make you more upset, “but…babeee” he started, his voice flattening as he realised you weren’t giving in.

"This is a punishment ," you reminded him softly,your gaze unwavering. "And now you need to learn” Your lips curve slightly into a corner smile loving how needy he was, Sirius sighed dramatically, throwing himself back onto the bed, he smacked a hand dramatically over his forehead. You couldn't help but chuckle at his antics, "Come on really?" you teased gently, "you brought this upon yourself. "He peeked at you through his fingers, a playful glint in his eyes. "But can't we negotiate, my dear warden?" You shook your head with a mock stern expression. "No negotiation. Rules are rules." He pouted exaggeratedly, crossing his arms in mock defiance. "Fine, fine," he grumbled, but you could see the sparkle of amusement in his eyes.After a few moments, Sirius broke the silence, his voice now tinged with mischief. "What can I do to make it up to you, sweet sweet angel ?" You pretended to ponder, tapping your chin thoughtfully. "Hmm... prove to me that you can be patient."He groaned and slashed around letting out faux crys You couldn't help but laugh again “fineeee, you know I’d do anything for you, even if it means leaving me stranded with no affection for a WEEK”

Your laughter faded, replaced by a soft smile as you. Slowly, you moved closer to him, your fingers trailing lightly along his arm. "I know." your voice whispered in a teasing manner. Sirius's playful facade softened, replaced by a gentle smirk, he slowly climbed up your body trying to covertly touch your body by covering it up by wanting a hug (You couldn’t strip him of everything) and rested his head against your stomach and closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the feeling of your warmth,

You caved slightly, how couldn’t you? when he was looking at you so sweetly, needy, with glazed over eyes , you’ll give him a little mercy. You reached out, your fingers found his way into his hair, gently carding through the dark strands. Sirius sighed happily and leaned into your touch, “Thank you” he said muffled into your stomach his voice dripping with relief and content. You smiled, your hand was moving in soothing circles on his scalp. “I’m still mad at you, if Lucy isn’t normal looking tomorrow it’ll be 2 weeks we won’t have sex” you joked he groaned.

[xvmgnhao]

Masterlist

Jenna Ortega

First

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid

A Case of Jealousy

Seventeen

Mingyu

Brat

Vernon

Pool Party

Scream Franchise

Chad Meeks-Martin

Found

Tara Carpenter

Found

NCT

Ten Lee

Fake

Riize

Anton Lee

Best Friend

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

hi! is there any chance you could write a scenario for spencer with a plus sized reader? love your writing!

༉‧₊˚. 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

― pairing: spencer reid x plus size neighbor!reader

― summary: every day you and spencer talk to each other on your balconies, but you want more, and spencer is more than happy to - albeit shyly - oblige.

― warnings: mentioned/referenced marijuana usage, the reader smokes cigarettes, reader with a potty mouth, a tad bit of emotional hurt/comfort but not really, mutual pining, polar opposites, opposites attract, black cat and golden retriever vibes, neighbors to lovers, balconies as the main plot point of this fic somehow, fluff, the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff :[

― wc: 1208

⋆ a/n: okay would you believe me if i told you that this was not only supposed to be a drabble, but was also for a whole other request entirely? 😭 i really got lost in the sauce that was this fic and i really hope you enjoy because this is probably my favorite work that i have done in a while :]

masterlist | AO3

This has got to be a skill issue.

Maybe it was because of his job, but Spencer often finds himself attracted to danger – or most of the time danger finds him.

Now technically speaking, there’s nothing dangerous about you, but just one look at you and everything just screams trouble; you’re covered in tattoos, and you always seem to smell like a mixture of your perfume and whatever you bathe with along with a hint of weed and cigarettes. 

You’re sarcastic, witty, and above all else, you’re beautiful. So beautiful that sometimes Spencer feels the breath get stolen from right out of his lungs. You wouldn’t have to be doing anything, just hanging outside on your balcony shrunk into your lawn chair early in the morning, the sun hitting your sleep-ridden face, a cigarette hanging delicately between your fingers.

Your first meeting hadn’t been ideal, but it truly was an honest mistake.

You had a large gathering inside your apartment when you had first moved in, metal music and music along that genre blasted through the thin layers of the wall separating your respected spaces.

Spencer couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning in his bed. He thought that maybe once it had hit later on in the night it would quiet down, but it had been just as roundy as it was in the afternoon. He had willed himself to get up, mentally preparing himself for an unpleasant conversation that would no doubt be unfriendly.

He hadn’t been expecting you to open the door with a beer dangling in your hand, perching yourself against the door frame with crossed arms.

From what Spencer could see from behind you, there was quite a crowd of people dispersed about. A wave of liquor and marijuana infused air hit his nose and tried his best to keep himself from grimacing, but you had caught it.

“Hey uh-” Spencer was strangely intimidated by you, by your dark beauty and his hands came together, fingers picking at a hangnail nervously. “I live next door and um- would you mind uh… keeping the music down?” 

A flash of guilt graced your features for a moment before you spoke. “Oh shit, sorry man, yeah totally, no problem. Sorry about that.” You gave him a once over before smirking. “What’s your name?”

And after that, the rest of your friendship was history; sometimes he’d catch you coming up the stairs as he’d leave his home to run an errand, or he’d run into you getting your mail.

It was a slow building friendship, but it was one that he was happy he was able to make, because he really really did not want to have a rivalry with a neighbor. The feelings came later though, but maybe they had always been there.

The mornings when Spencer had a day off had a different kind of air to it, one that allowed him to feel at ease, relaxed. He had been deep in thought as he stared out at the quiet, empty street below him when he heard the sliding glass door of your apartment open, and there you were, tumbling out groggily.

You had stepped out with a cup of coffee, much like him in a way; you had a severe case of bed head, your black tank top and sleep shorts did nothing to hide the curves of your body as well as the art that painted your skin like an ethereal canvas.

You were drowsy, he could see it in the bags under your eyes and the frown that you normally adorned after a long night at the diner you worked at.

Maybe it was weird that he was watching you, but there was nothing more that he enjoyed than seeing you in your natural element.

You traded your coffee for the carton of cigarettes on the small table you had outside, slipping one of them safely between your lips before attempting to light it to no avail. He could hear you struggle with the cog before huffing and tossing the lighter on the glass table with a small ‘piece of shit’.

“Maybe it’s a sign.” Spencer called out from where he stood. There was no need to shout, seeing as though there was only a couple of inches separating your patios.

You threw a look at him, a lazy smirk dancing on your lips as you tucked the stick of tobacco behind your ear.

“Oh yeah? A sign of what?” You egged on. You rested your arms on the railing that faced his left side. “A sign that you should quit.” You scoffed. “No, it’s a sign that I should stop letting my friends swap their shit out for mine and pretending I don’t notice.” 

That pulled a chuckle out of Spencer, the man lifting the coffee to take a leisure sip of before continuing. “Long day at work last night?” He inquired.

You sighed, burying your fingers in your hair before dragging your hands down your face roughly.

“You could say that. I feel like my job does shit just to fuck with me, because every table I was given had people that were total fucking assholes.” You groaned, “Plus most of them didn’t even fucking tip! It’s like God Spence, I’m just about to fucking quit and get paid minimum wage somewhere else.”

Spencer feels a pang of sympathy in his gut. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He says with a frown. You just wave him off. “No, no. I’m sorry. It’s too early for my bitching.”

“I…” He begins with a gulp, “I don’t mind your bitching.” He adds with a sheepish grin. You laugh, and the sound is almost like bells in his ears. “You’re too sweet to me, Spence.” He gives you a noncommittal shrug, hiding his quickly reddening face behind another sip of his coffee.

“You’re off today right? What’re your plans?” You ask. You retreat for a moment before grabbing your own mug and taking a sip. There’s a slight grimace on your face, “God this tastes like shit.” You mumble beneath your breath.

“Nothing much if I’m going to be honest.” Spencer hadn’t really thought about what he wanted to do. He mostly planned on having a lazy day that was made up of tv show reruns, his new book he had bought and a nice dinner.

“There’s some grocery shopping I need to do, so you’re welcome to come with me if you want.” You say before you can stop yourself. You can feel nervous butterflies flutter around in your lower belly. You had never gone out of your way to invite the genius out anywhere, but you yearned to spend time with him.

It’s not like you guys don’t hangout, but it mostly consists of domestic conversations like these, speaking to each other from your balconies either during the morning or at night.

There’s no hiding the redness that completely overtakes Spencer’s face, his gaze falling for a moment before meeting your eyes.

“That sounds great.” Spencer says sweetly, and he really hopes his voice isn’t as breathless as it sounds.

“Cool.” You feign nonchalance by taking a hefty drink out of your mug.

“Cool.” Spencer reiterates with a small smile on his face.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna @moonysreid

[milla984]

It's the Great Pumpkin, Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer and Reader get to spend some quality time together on Halloween

Pairing: virgin!Spencer Reid x fem!reader, virgin!Spencer Reid x plus size Reader

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

TW/CW: heavy kissing, handjob, fingering, brief mention of an anxiety attack, body image insecurities (both parts)

Word Count: 5.4k

This work is part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

“I am officially traumatized,” Penelope blurted out when the end credits rolled on the screen, “remind me to never watch another Halloween movie with you, guys!!”

You could almost hear Spencer squeak in disbelief. “What?! This is a classic!”

She stood up to adjust her skirt, the one with jack-o’-lanterns and spiderwebs arranged in a casual pattern all over the dark fabric, and the bats standing on top of her fuzzy headband wiggled in different directions. 

“Uh–uh, La Dolce Vita is a classic. This is what goes on in the twisted mind of someone who desperately needed a hug and a large cup of hot cocoa with a ton of whipped cream and sprinkles as a child.”

You smiled as you finished loading the dishwasher, amused by the discussion unfolding in your living room; in your heart you were the greatest admirer of Spencer’s ability to conjure up any kind of random information on the spot but the exact moment you saw him open his mouth you knew he was about to make the situation worse.

“In fact, Barker’s grandmother had a fascination with the macabre. She would often tell gruesome stories which she presented as true tales so he grew up with the fear of being murdered in his own house.” 

Garcia gawked and raised a hand in his direction, simultaneously turning your way. “See?! Forgive me if I don’t think that having my entire body ripped apart by giant hooks is the ultimate frontier of pleasure!”

“And I’ll never look at a puzzle box the same way! What if it’s a brain teaser from Hell and there’s one of those chattering monsters inside?” she added and you had to hold back your laughter because Spencer’s perplexed frown was probably one of the cutest and funniest things in the whole world.

The mustache glued to his upper lip and the cravat he wore over a white shirt and black vest were only adding to it so you forced yourself to remain serious. “I’m sorry… pizza and a movie from my dvd collection were all I had to offer on such short notice,” you said, to which she replied by shaking her long, wavy hair.

“Oh no, sweet pea! You did great, I’m just too attached to the illusion that life is a rainbow to be into the traditional Halloween gore,” she sighed and wrapped herself in a colorful poncho. “Hey, Raven Man! Ready to leave?”

Spencer squirmed: an IQ of 187 and still he was unable to come up with a semi-plausible lie when it came to hiding the truth from his friends. Feeling the weight of her curious stare he swallowed nervously.

“I was kind of considering the possibility of going to the midnight screening of Nosferatu, at the Silver Theatre. It’s the 100th anniversary so the Silent Orchestra will play the entire score live, have you ever heard of them? They use contemporary musical idioms to convey the art of pre-talkies films to modern audiences, they’ve been widely acclaimed for their work.”

Penelope raised an eyebrow. “Midnight screening, huh?! Which means you don’t need a ride home… what a coincidence,” she teased, leaning forward to squeeze you in a passionate hug. “I knew it! I saw it the minute I walked in!”

This time was your turn to shrug with a puzzled expression: Reid and Garcia should have been on the opposite side of D.C. for a relaxed dinner at the Morgans’ after a thorough raid of all the neighborhood porches. However, Derek had called just as they were getting in the car to inform them that Hank got unexpectedly sick and forty-five minutes later All Hallows’ Eve enthusiast Reid (dressed up as Edgar Allan Poe) plus a very concerned Penelope had showed up at your apartment, making you wonder why on earth wasn’t she already busy baking since she kept repeating chickenpox called for the best pumpkin pie ever.

“Well, there goes our plan to keep a low profile,” you groaned as you closed the door behind her, and Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“How…?! Is this what they call ‘female intuition’?”

“Call it whatever you want but I’m glad she’s not mad we didn’t tell her right away,” you replied, proceeding to wrap your arms around his shoulders, “and I can think of another person who’s probably very happy for you, now.”

Spencer got rid of the fake mustache with a pensive stare. When it finally dawned on him that Garcia’s phone buzzing during your impromptu horror-themed movie night had in fact started out as live updates on their godson’s health and most likely turned into a gossip session about you two as a couple he squinted.

“I almost bailed on going trick-or-treating with them. I didn’t because I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, but I also wanted to see you. It’s our first Halloween.”

You nodded. “Maybe we can still get tickets for Nosferatu. You’re a terrible liar, so I’m sure there really is a midnight screening at the Silver Theatre.”

Spencer stared at you, entranced, then pulled you closer and in a heartbeat your lips met his - a sweet caress, tender and soft, your breaths entwined and your noses rubbing against each other in delicate strokes. You gave him a gentle push and he plopped down on the couch as you placed one knee on either side of his legs to straddle him; one of his hands sneaked behind you, exploring you as if he was trying to blindly map your whole back. 

You felt his other hand on your waist, hesitant. 

Three months had passed since the day you both came to the conclusion you were not “just friends” - three months made of late night phone calls from six different States, of handwritten silly notes you hid in his leather bag each time you drove him to the airport to catch a flight for Houston, three months of you hoping things would eventually move past the PG rated phase.

Three months of your self-consciousness sowing the seed of doubt in your heart, encouraged by the notion of whom he got to share his workspace with: you were no Emily or JJ and even if Spencer wasn’t the type to pay attention to details he frequently referred to as ‘trivial’ you were growing less and less confident.

“It’s fine, you can touch me,” you whispered, guiding his palm to cup your breast. They were pretty difficult to ignore, nevertheless he always seemed to steer away from them as much as he could.

You ran your fingers through his hair until you grabbed a small chunk of his curls; Spencer gasped for air and you brushed your tongue over his lower lip, letting out a muffled moan when the heat between your legs became almost unbearable. You started grinding on his lap to adjust tightly against his body.

“Wait…” he whined, squirming under you.

A second moan escaped from your throat while the pressure of his stiff cock hit your thigh but he shoved you away to free himself and spring to his feet, shaking heavily as if he was experiencing a full blown anxiety attack. 

His cheeks were flustered and his hair stuck to his dampened forehead so that he couldn’t even look at you straight - which gave him the perfect excuse to avoid doing it altogether. “I– I’m sorry…”

“No, no, I am…” you muttered, because the guilt building up in your chest felt so heavy you find it difficult to breathe.

Spencer was standing there, fumbling nervously with the cravat around his neck; his body language was screaming discomfort and he was clearly thinking of an excuse to remove himself from the situation. It was then that the hidden and irrational side of you, the one that desperately feared he would have disappeared forever if you’d let him go, kicked in and a rush of adrenaline came running down your spine.

“Please…” you continued, placing a hand over his, “it’s okay, really… there’s no way to control it, you should know better than anyone—”

“Why? Because I’m a man and men are supposed to have zero impulse regulation?!”

The embarrassment and shame in his voice broke you: you had sworn a thousand times in your mind to do your best to be his solace, yet now it seemed you were hurting him like no-one had ever done before.

“No,” you replied, “because you’re the genius, here, and you should know it’s a perfectly healthy and natural reaction.”

He huffed, visibly irritated at what he must have perceived as a patronizing tone. A different sort of emotion crawled under your skin, sparked by the amount of tension stagnating in the air.

You offered him a cushion and glanced at him with your usual no-nonsense attitude. “Sit down, so we can have a proper conversation? You know, like… functioning adults.”

Spencer pouted for a second, evaluating numbers and statistics about two years and a half’s worth of interactions. The truth was, intellectual affinity was such a familiar concept for the two of you that talking your way through an issue was indeed a synonym for a positive outcome. 

He grabbed the cushion and held it onto his stomach to shield himself from your gaze, though it was purposely focused on his face; you thought it was best to put some distance between your bodies when he sat on the couch again so you folded your legs underneath you, shivering like a cold draft had found its way inside the room.

“Listen, we can both agree this is not your regular, everyday casual topic of conversation… which is why we’ve never discussed premarital sex—”

“I’m not against it,” Spencer rushed to declare, “I’ve assumed it was the same for—”

“Sure, no! Ditto,” you confirmed.

His furrowed brows relaxed while his mouth curved in a timid smile. “Did you know that every person’s intimate relationships follow a script that has been written according to their own individual attitude towards all –uhm, sexual experiences?”

“I did not,” you admitted, and Spencer’s hands started dancing to the sound of his own words. 

“There are sets of guidelines for appropriate behavior, each partner in consensual encounters acts as if they are an actor following a script rather than acting on impulse alone. Researches indicate that women are more likely to initiate contact in well established relationships, negotiating sexual activity in developing relationships can be difficult 'cause both parts have multiple goals to deal with, such as providing relational definitions or following specific standards or morals.”

“Yeah, speaking about relationships… I think we’ve been in one since Christmas, we were just too dumb to say it out loud. And to each other,” you explained. “Sounds like a well-established to me but what’s your take on us?”

He curled into himself. “Every time we’re together I know there’s no other place I’d rather be. I’ve never even imagined it could be possible, I want to feel you even closer… and I’m so afraid I’m forcing this on you—”

“You’re not, I want it too,” you reassured him, “but to be honest I was starting to worry you were not into… me.”

Spencer’s beautiful eyes roamed over you and what you could see was all but repulsion. “Actually it’s the complete opposite.”

“So, what if my script says I’m ready to take things further?” you inquired, inching towards him to tug at the cravat of his costume. 

Spencer cupped your face and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Mine is on the same page,” he whispered.

Your fingers immediately went to the vest he was wearing and trailed the line of buttons in a slow movement; you undid them one by one, the hems eventually coming apart to reveal the white shirt underneath.

“Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good,” you purred while you loosened the cravat to uncover his Adam’s apple. The way his muscles tensed as it bobbed up and down drove you crazy, so you teased him with the tip of your tongue - your lips grazing over the short stubble. 

Damn him and his impeccable bone structure: the scruffy look suited him so well it always sparked in you the urge to pin him to a wall and sink your teeth into his tender flesh. You loved how he could sport a smooth, professional style when the situation required it still wasn’t concerned with shaving each morning, almost as if it was an impractical activity which took energy away from whatever he considered to be a priority at that moment. 

You heard something flop on the floor and stopped your ministrations: the cushion he’d been holding over his stomach wasn’t there anymore, meaning you got to notice his trousers were becoming increasingly tight.

You squeezed his knee to make sure he was prepared for a more intimate contact then you slid it even further on his leg, giving him a couple of minutes to adjust to your gentle strokes before you felt confident enough to move the action to his inner thigh.

Spencer gasped, surprised rather than shocked or disturbed by how close you were now to where he was aching, and he leaned back to ease the pressure of the fabric but kept his eyes on you. 

He gave a silent nod in response to your interrogative stare, so you finally traced the outline of his hard cock between your thumb and index.

He jolted this time and muttered under his breath, a deep rasp in his voice you didn’t expect: you were unprepared to hear your name spoken as it was the quintessence of pure desire and you quivered, the throbbing in your ears rolling to your core.

You kissed his temple as you pointed at the waistband of his trousers. “Can I…?”

“Y– yes…” he muttered.

His clothes didn’t have any space left to accommodate his bulge. You palmed over it and felt an impatient twitch, which nearly had Spencer cursing; it was becoming torture for him so you reached for the zipper. 

For a split second the historical inaccuracy of a Victorian era costume featuring a device first introduced years after Edgar Allan Poe’s death hit you - a remark Reid himself would have been very appreciative of, which showed how much you could relate to the way his brain worked. Then you shook out of it and peeled his slacks open.

You crumpled the shirt over his stomach and marveled at the sight of his soft belly, the flawless navel, the dark fuzz pointing directly to his raging erection. With a cautious approach you freed it from any restraint, chewing on your lower lip as you often did when you were entirely focused on a challenging task. 

You couldn’t exactly say you had many options in your mind to compare him to but you had done a lot of fantasizing: now that he was in front of you, undressed and defenseless, you were downright mesmerized by—

“What’s wrong?!” Spencer screeched, interrupting your train of thought. “Is it odd? Does it look odd?!”

You shook your head, taken aback. “... odd?! No, why?!” you asked. “It’s just…” you petted the roundness to demonstrate, “I like your tummy so much.”

The way it pressed against his belt whenever he sat next to you on your couch or his was overly inviting and in the past weeks you had to fight the temptation to sneak a hand inside his shirt to squish it, because you didn’t know how he would’ve reacted. 

“Really?!” he marveled, confirming he wasn’t even aware you had a thing for soft tummies. His soft tummy, to be specific.

You smiled and leaned forward to rest your forehead against his. “Are you okay with me doing this?”

Spencer nodded, his eyelids half-closed, so you let your fingertips follow the trail of hair below his belly button; his hardness twitched again when you got near, then you wrapped your hand around it. 

You both moaned in unison, a harmony of pleasure that filled the silence of your living room. You moved along his entire length, feeling the satiny skin sliding over the shaft, and he threw his hair back in a movement that left his jugular exposed: his neck was too inviting and you sucked on it, the groans vibrating in his throat reverberating on your lips.

You gripped tighter when he got used to your caresses. As soon as his muffled whimpers seemed to increase in frequency you circled your thumb over the tip, spreading his leaking precum over the sensitive head. Spencer was at loss for words, a good indication that he was definitely enjoying the moment.

You were enjoying it too; you started to rub your legs together, your imagination running wild and picturing all sorts of scenarios. The mere thought of having him inside of you made you want to touch yourself but you resisted: Spencer was undoubtedly new to this and deserved someone in his life to love him and shower him with attention, so you decided to put his release before your own.

When you twisted your hand at the base of his cock he jumped, missing the bridge of your nose by a few inches.

“Too much?!” you cooed, and he seemed to come out of a sort of drunken stupor.

“No, no… it’s good, I like it…”

You sighed. “Spence, you have to tell me if—”

“It’s really good,” he replied, the urgency sensible in his tone. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded, low-key ashamed of how needy he’d sounded.

You pecked him on the nose as a reassurance you accepted and cherished this version of him: he wasn’t the kind of man to be interested in the crude physical aspect of sex, he’d made it clear. He wasn’t desperate for just anyone to satisfy him - he trusted you to do it, because he knew you were safe in each other’s arms.

You shifted to adjust at his side and returned to your previous occupation; you let your other hand wander over his thigh as a forewarning, then you sheepishly cupped his balls so you could provide additional stimulation and send him over the edge.

He bucked his hips, a loud “Oh, God!!!” escaping from his mouth before he grasped a fistful of your hair. He was hungry for you, his tongue sliding lustfully against yours and his breathing so ragged you were sure he was getting close. 

Kissing him was your drug of choice but you also wanted to watch him come undone, thanks to you, so you turned your head while he tensed: he arched his back and bucked his hips once more, nipping at your earlobe. He became harder as he spilled himself over your fingers, wrist and his own stomach with a feral growl.

You didn’t let go of him, not even when his whole body finally slumped down.

The well-defined jaw and unruly curls falling on his face, now so serene, made him appear like a Botticellian masterpiece. Botticelli would have never painted one of his subjects in such a disheveled state, for sure, but the contrast between his angelic aura and the fact he was sprawled on the couch with his trousers unzipped and his softening cock still in your hand was a vision to behold.

“Hey,” you hummed as he re-opened his eyes and found you looking at him, “you’re too cute to be real, you know that?!”

Embarrassed - yet adorably proud - Spencer lowered his gaze, only to grimace at the stickiness on his belly. And on you. “I made a mess, I’m s—”

“We made a mess. Besides, it’s nothing a towel can’t fix, don’t be sorry,” you said, patting his tummy.

You were almost tempted to ask him how long he’d been saving it for, in a clumsy attempt to remind him you’d fallen so head over heels for him you were not at all grossed out; at the last moment you ruled the joke out, though, stretching your legs to get up instead. “Give me a couple of minutes.”

He flashed you the most awkward smile and you forced your feet to move towards the bathroom. 

You washed your hands under the hot running water and silently watched a part of Spencer swirling down the drain; the floral scent of the soap was now in the air but you could still feel his - coffee and cologne, accentuated by the faint traces of sweat on his skin. 

You had just discovered something new: Spencer was often oblivious of how good he looked (despite the dark circles under his eyes) and that was no mystery, but the idea he might have been insecure about different parts of his body was something you’d never taken into account. If being a couple was the natural consequence of the emotional bond between you - rather than a result of some physical infatuation alone - why was he so preoccupied with your reaction to his half-naked self?

Your brain was going in severe overdrive. 

You inhaled and exhaled a couple of times, your fingers gripping on the honed marble of the countertop, then you dried your hands with a towel, grabbed a fresh one and returned to the living room; the instant you approached your couch you realized Spencer had been doing a lot of thinking of his own, and your heart sank into your stomach.

“Wunderkind, are you alright?” you questioned as you offered him the towel so that he could clean himself up. “What’s going on in here?” you added, tapping lightly on his temple.

He shrugged and proceeded to meticulously remove any trace of his seed from his belly and clothes before tucking the shirt into the waistband of his trousers. “Nothing special.”

His left eyebrow raised, due to an involuntary movement of his facial muscles: it was a flash, a glimpse, the undeniable proof he was hiding something. The sound of your intrusive thoughts and fears got so loud you wanted to scream to cover their noise.

“Your microexpressions say otherwise,” you retorted.

Spencer lifted his head to meet your eyes, mouth agape, and you couldn’t decipher the meaning of such a bewildered reaction. You had always been able to recognize his lying frown, his anxious smile, the suspicious squint and a hundred more variations: you were not a member of the BAU but you were an expert on detecting and classifying his emotions, yet you’d never seen that one before. 

“It’s… uhm, I’m wondering if it was good for you.”

Your heart leaped and bounced back where it belonged. His job required him to be the one calling people out on their behavior, not the other way round; your presence in his life forced him to face a situation in which his skills as a profiler couldn’t shield him from his own vulnerability, so he was in serious need of some consolation.

You bent over to whisper in his ear. “It was.”

“But you didn’t...” he nervously licked his lips, “and I want you to. Just tell me how.”

In the back of your mind you were 100% sure it would have been the right moment to confess you’d been harboring a few insecurities of your own but your fight-flight-freeze response was already answering on your behalf, making you freeze on the spot.

“Spencer…”

“You don’t think I can?!” he inquired, still convinced his lack of experience was the motivation behind any episode of miscommunication. 

“NO! It’s not about you,” you responded in a hurry, hugging him as he was still seated on the couch. “Or maybe it is… ” you gestured to your whole figure, “I guess I’m a bit worried this isn’t what—”

Spencer wrapped you in an equally sweet hug, his chin dimple pressed on your abdomen. “This is soft,” his hands ran to the back of your knees, trailing up, “it’s so soft I’ve got only one thing in mind every time you hug me and I have to stop myself…”

He stopped talking mid-sentence when you guided his palms over your chest and he finally laughed, fascinated by the feeling of your breasts through the shirt.

If he was so happy at the idea you were starving for his touch and was clearly eager to reciprocate it was time to consider the strong possibility he wasn’t just settling for less. “Do you really—”

“Yes!” he replied, enthusiastically. “But I could use a few hints, you know.”

You knew. “May I sit on your lap, kind sir?”

The ‘are you even serious?’ pout on his face deserved an award; now you were both allowed to act silly without the slightest concern one of you was making fun of the other, high on the intoxicating concept of true intimacy.

You positioned yourself so that you were seated on his groin, your back flat on his chest and your head nestled in the crook of his neck, thanking Mother Nature for the existence of refractory periods. Not that it was necessary, but Spencer hooked his left forearm around your waist to secure you as his tongue glided over the soft skin behind your ear. “How do I start?”

“Step one: make some space,” you tipped him.

He gulped loudly and began to caress your knee, ghosting his fingers along the thigh-bone. You shivered in anticipation and when he tried to reach for your inner thigh you spread your legs apart; he flattened his palm, gripping on your muscles and rubbing back and forth - still keeping some distance from your most delicate spots. 

You turned to offer him your lips. “Tease me… up and down, light touches.”

He did as he was told. When he ran the back of his hand over your mound you whimpered, the oversensitivity being too much to bear combined with the mind-blowing taste of his mouth over yours.

“Isn’t it frustrating for you?” he managed to articulate in between kisses and you rocked your hips against him.

You could already feel the familiar and insistent throbbing, accentuated by the fact that delayed gratification was a real pain; you were dying for him to placate the fire his hard cock had sparked in you, so you grabbed his wrist and guided it over your stomach, down the front of your panties.

He gasped at the feeling of your tender flesh, the curly hair, the dampness - too many sensory inputs to process all at once. “You’re so… warm?”

“Core body temperature is higher than the temperature of the skin,” you reminded him. 

“So warm,” he kept repeating, basic biology facts lost on him because his brain seemed to have switched off. 

His palm grazed over your folds and your legs fell further open to give him better access; you stroked his left forearm and tilted your head back. “Only two fingers now, Spence… up and down. But don’t go straight for—”

You tensed when his fingertips danced on your clit and he gripped you even tighter. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but the sensation was so good you could only smile.

“If you plan to go there it’s left and right. And draw a few circles around, big and small...” you explained before words turned into muffled moans as he put your suggestions into actions.

You were still grinding on his lap, your back glued to his chest, and he took advantage of the proximity to trap your earlobe between his teeth, sucking lightly at each change of the pattern he was tracing.

You squeezed his wrist when the flame inside of you grew fiercer. “You can slip your finger in if you want.”

Spencer let go of your earlobe and paused. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for weeks,” you admitted, the weight of your secret vanishing in the air like a puff of smoke.

He sighed and shifted underneath you; just as you were ready to tell him he didn’t have to if he wasn’t comfortable with the idea he slid his middle finger past your entrance and you shuddered in his embrace. His hands were elegant, veiny, and his slender digits made for playing piano or reaching your hidden crevices - you had no doubts about it, but judging by how he was sitting still he had more than one question regarding what to do with them.

“How do I feel? Spence...?”

Even if you couldn’t really see his face, you knew he had a confused-slash-excited look on. “Hot… and wet, I never thought—”  

“You like it?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?!” he asked in the cutest high-pitched tone and you laughed, making you both wince at the sudden movement. 

All the words in any existent language put together couldn’t describe the amount of affection you had for him. “I like it, Spence,” you hummed, “and it would be even better if you tried curling your fin— FUCK!” 

Spencer wasn’t one to waste time once he was given a specific instruction.

He pushed his finger forward and curled it as you said, gliding in and out to slowly familiarize himself with the different textures of your inner walls. He adopted a very empirical approach, experimenting several techniques based on what he’d learned not so long before, while you whimpered and moaned his name; he was moaning, too, and so prettily you couldn’t control yourself.

“Spence, I need more…” 

He nipped at your jaw, his long hair tickling your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, I promise”, you panted, almost out of breath.

When he slipped a second finger in you realized that his arm wrapped around your waist was the only thing still keeping you in place: your legs were giving up on you, your hips swayed to let Spencer’s fingers plunge deeper as your back arched and your fists closed around his clothes. He was pumping relentlessly, overwhelmed by your wetness and the way you were taking him inside like he was a missing part of your own body; he tried to reach for your mouth and you turned to grasp the nape of his neck.

“Your hands are perfect,” you whined, “you are perfect…”

He huffed, his heart pounding fast. “Are you…?”

“Please... make me come, Spence,” you begged him in a whisper.

He pressed his thumb on your clit and started alternating between rough circling motions and the upward movement of his fingers, as you bucked your hips at a frantic pace; your thighs muscles contracted, you clenched around him and you ears plugged as you climaxed - something that had never happened to you before.

You tugged at his hair and screamed his name, before settling against his body once the tension faded. 

He kept his fingers inside and he cuddled you throughout the aftermath of your orgasm, planting butterfly kisses wherever his mouth could reach and cradling you like his only mission in life was making you feel safe and protected. 

Your self-consciousness awoke first, despite the rush of feel-good hormones flowing in your bloodstream.

“Am I crushing you…?” you mumbled, and he grunted as you wriggled free to lean forward and pick up the towel from the floor. 

He stared at his wet fingers with a pensive frown, then he wiped them clean and turned to face you - now seated on the couch with your legs across his and your forearm rested on his shoulder, so that you could play with his curls. 

“Doctor, you deserve a gold star for your performance.”

He smiled and lowered his gaze for a second. “I’m very good at following instructions.”

“You’re not bad at improvising, either,” you pointed out, “the thing you did with your thumb…?”

“I figured it was only a matter of combining the exact pressure and the right angle. Technically speaking—”

“Spencer?!” you cut him off, before he could lose himself in his own rambling. “Thank you,” you added, kissing him lightly on his lips before you stood up to fix your panties and trousers. “You can tell me all about the mechanics behind one of the best orgasms of my life on our way.”

“Nosferatu. First Halloween together…?” you elaborated when he looked at you in total confusion. “You’ve changed your mind.”

He shifted on the couch, his hazel eyes fixed on you. “Is that okay?”

This time you looked at him with your best ‘is ice cream cold?’ frown: you wanted to spend eternity with him, not just an hour or two more. You climbed into his lap and tangled your fingers in his hair while he cupped your breasts.

“What if I get…? I mean... again?!”

“Well, it’s not going to happen right now, Professor!!" you snorted, and his giggle sounded like celestial music. "But don’t worry, we’ve got the whole night."

NB: I'm not using my regular taglist for Spencer Reid smut fics but I'm obviously tagging only the users who sent a request. If you wish to be added you can send me an ask or leave a comment below with the request to be added.

[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

[brightlilith]

MASTERLIST

Request open

Navegation

MCU

Peter Parker

Natasha Romanoff

Wanda Maximoff

Bucky Barnes

Masterlist

WEDNESDAY

Wednesday Addams

Enid Sinclair

Ajax Petropulus

Masterlist

COBRA KAI

Robby Keene

Miguel Diaz

Samantha Larusso

Tory Nichols

Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz

Masterlist

TVD-Universe

Klaus Mikaelson

Damon Salvatore

Stefan Salvatore

Elijah Mikaelson

Caroline Forbes

Elena Gilbert

Bonnie Bennett

Hope Mikaelson

Rebekah Mikaelson

Hayley Marshall

TVD

TO

SUPERNATURAL

Dean Winchester

Masterlist

Sam Winchester

Castiel

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON

Daemon Targaryen

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen

Jacaerys Targaryen

Alicent Hightower

Aegon II Targaryen

Masterlist

GAME OF THRONES

Daenerys Targaryen

Masterlist

CRIMINAL MINDS

Spencer Reid

Jennifer Jereau

Emily Prentiss

Masterlist

THE MARVELOUS MRS MAISEL

Lenny Bruce

Miriam Maisel

Masterlist

ACTOR/ACTRESS & SINGER'S

Jensen Ackles

Jenna Ortega

Tokio Hotel

More will be added as requests are placed!

I will do NOT write

Threesome

Male!reader

Tv show couples ex: Damon Salvatore x Elena Gilbert

Yandere

Romanticization of mental health, eating disorders, depression, any type of self harm, physical abuse, any forced sexual activities, any hate towards LGBTQ People/Rights, any hate towards Transgendered people/Rights, or any hate towards race.

Pedophilia, or activities, child abuse and more.

These NSFW themes - A/B/O, humiliation/degrading kink and more Pregnancies Incest (with the exception of got and hotd)

Characters with some physical disability (nothing against it, I just wouldn’t want to write it wrong)

Black!reader or plus size!reader (nothing against it, I wouldn't want to offend something I don't know.)

If you want to be added to the tag list, send me a message!🩷

Is there anything you'd like to see in the future from my blog?

Note: Depending on what it is, I might be able to make it happen. All I ask is that you ask kindly.

© morganaah/brightlilith ─ all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other platforms.

[marie-swriting]

Need More Fanfics ? Part.2

Marvel

Killer (Kate Bishop x reader) by @upat4amwiththemoon

Vigilante Shit | Part two (Kate Bishop x BlackHill!reader) by @upat4amwiththemoon

Clint's Stray (Kate Bishop x reader) by @maximoffsmuse

Never Let Go (Kate Bishop x reader) by @lightupthemoon

Frost Covered Window (Kate Bishop x reader) by @mayfieldss

The Scrapbook of You and I (Kate Bishop x reader) by deactivated account

Unpacking (Carol Danvers x reader) by @yelenasdiary

Care Bear (Carol Danvers x reader) by @captains-simp

Home For Christmas (Bucky Barnes x reader) by @onceuponastory

In Every Lifetime (Bucky Barnes x reader) by @wkemeup

Bi (Bucky Barnes x daughter!reader) by @alyswritings

I've Got You (Bucky Barnes x reader) by @onceuponastory

Lessons In Chemistry (TASM!Peter Parker x reader) by @mayfieldss

Black Velvet (Natasha Romanoff x reader) by @imtryingbuck

Society Says (Steve Rogers x Tall!reader) by @invisibleanonymousmonsters

Nice To Be Kneaded (Steve Rogers x reader) [serie masterlist] by @rogersideup

Thirty-Two Years (Sam Wilson x reader) by @thepokyone

Criminal Minds

Starry Night (Emily Prentiss x reader) by @criminalmindswhore

Secret Santa (Emily Prentiss x reader) by @max-the-d0g

I Guess Sometimes We All Get Just What We Wanted (Emily Prentiss x reader) by @bi-bard

Untitled (Emily Prentiss x reader) by @reidsdaisies

My Favorite Medicine Is You (Emily Prentiss x reader) by @ssa-sugar-tits

Leave It At The Door (Emily Prentiss x plus size!reader) by @hannibals-favourite-meal (Minors do not interact as the author wishes!)

Wandering Hands (Emily Prentiss x reader) by @emilys-bangs

Showing The Bird (Spencer Reid x daughter!reader) by @letarasstuff

Sneaking Out (Derek Morgan x daughter!reader) by @rachaelswrites

Top Gun

My Heart Will Go On (Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader), Titanic AU by @averagewriter-inthedark (⚠️TW : deaths and light smut, Minors do not interact as the author wishes!)

Driving Home From Christmas (Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader) by @callsign-phoenix

Sweetest Devotion (Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader) by @sometimesanalice

Don't Mess With The Storm (Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader) by @mamsieur

G-Lock Too Far (Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x reader) by @frost-queen

Let Your Senses Guide You (Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x reader) by @topguncortez (⚠️TW : panic attack)

Untitled (Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x reader) by @callsign-phoenix

Making You Proud (Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x daughter!reader) by @justabigassnerd

Nice Guys Always Finish Last (Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader) [serie masterlist] by deactivated account

Outer Banks

Thunder = Luke (JJ Maybanks x sister!reader) by @alyswritings (⚠️TW : mention of abuse)

Supernatural

Those Christmas Lights (Light Up The Street) (Dean Winchester x child!reader) by @yourmomxx

I'll Always Cath You (Dean Winchester x sister!reader) by @winchesters-favorite-girl

Stranger Things

Fall For You (Chrissy Cunningham x reader) by @tommiruewrites

Say You Want Me Too (Robin Buckley x reader) by @sparklingsin

Come Into The Water (Robin Buckley x reader) by deactivated account

Kissing Lessons (Robin Buckley x reader) by @jellyfishbeansontoast

Favorite Song (Steve Harrington x sister!reader) by @alyswritings

Bridgerton

Angel In The Sky (Benedict Bridgerton x reader) by @inkedobsidian

Enchantment (Benedict Bridgerton x reader) by deactivated account

Joy (Benedict Bridgerton x reader) by @redheadspark

Pinkish Clouds (Anthony Bridgerton x reader) by @d-targaryenshoe

[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.

°

Måneskin Masterlist

Damiano David

Thomas Raggi

Ethan Torchio

Marvel Masterlist

Bucky Barnes

Eurovision Masterlist

Jan Rozmanowski/Jann

Bojan Cvjetićanin

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes Masterlist

Young!Coriolanus Snow

Sejanus Plinth

The Hunger Games Masterlist

Finnick Odair

Katniss Everdeen

Johanna Mason

Criminal Minds Masterlist

Spencer Reid

Taylor Swift Masterlist

Taylor Swift Inspired Fics Masterlist

Descendants Masterlist

°

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

°

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

[rugaru]

Hey anyone who sees this!

I was planning on writing a little blurb but idk how well it’ll go over seeing as it would be my first ever fic/blurb here. I also can’t decide who it should surround.. as far as I know, I’ve decided on an x reader I just don’t know who out of these options.. (feel free to add any character suggestions as well!) If the first rendition goes over well, I’d be open to change aspects of the story and make separate versions for all of the character options below too!

The idea is going to surround Niall Horan’s song, Black and White but won’t really be a song fic.. basically it’ll be the reader (you) dating one of the options below and having a bit of a fear of/hesitancy to the L-word so instead, to say it without actually saying it, the two of you will refer to Black and White (the song you two have chosen as ‘your’ song) whenever the implication is there… if that makes sense lol.. :) characters are:

-Pope Heyward

-JJ Maybank

-Cal Kestis

-Spencer Reid

-Carl Grimes

Anyway.. I’m just super torn haha. Let me know what you think! Reader will probably be gender neutral and will likely not have any references to race or specific traits as to include everyone! If I decide to continue writing, I’ll be writing fem!reader, masc!reader, gn!reader and plus size!reader (fem, masc and gn). I will probably be taking requests as well as I tend to get bad writers block that ends up discouraging me severely lol. I will try my hardest to not use wording that could only apply to a single race so that everyone can be included. <3

[angelbirdysstuff]

I'm really struggling to find black reader and/or plus sized reader fics, does anyone know any good writers ? and any asks I sent arent getting anything . so if you have any recommendation please send

[nobitchs-world]

I’m tired of saying no hate when I’m the biggest hater 😕

[flemuer]

I needddd inspo! If there’s any other suggestions I’m so open but these are my mains 🤭

[xvmgnhao]

Requests

hi friends!!!! can you please submit some requests? ive been in a real drought lately but i have so much free time right now.

[acoolnight]

Ya know what sucks. When I’m reading an x reader fic and the author gets descriptive of the reader.

Like baby if you are gonna do that then just do a damn x oc fic.

Maybe it’s different for me because I clearly don’t fit the standards that most fandoms have. So like when the author decides to describe the reader, it sucks.

Okay that’s it. That is my rant for the month.