#Or if my mind is just playing tricks on me.

[crsssie]

floor seven - spencer reid x sharpshooter!reader

"No! Snippy's on that floor, you can't just—"

"In full tactical gear." Hotch nods. "Garcia has them on the camera. We know where they are."

"That makes it all the more dangerous—"

"They've got orders to kill. They'll never miss the unsub." Morgan nods.

The phone rings, and there's a sense of dread that fills Spencer as everyone turns around to stare at the unsub.

"Your parents are dead." Spencer swallows, staring behind the unsub as he catches the familiar gleam of your scope. "you want to know what's really going on? You were in a car accident three nights ago and you suffered a head trauma."

You move quietly, footsteps quiet on the carpet as you hold your gun up.

Spencer blinks once at you, and you stay still, finger hovering over the trigger. "Your eyes and your mind are playing a trick on you. When you see your family, you think that they're imposters, but it's all caused by an illness."

You let the team bring the wife to him and cover his eyes, lowering your gun when the officers bring him out.

Spencer's on you immediately, arms wrapped around your shoulders, forehead knocking into your helmet in the urgency.

"You good?" You reach to brush where he hit it, eyes soft as he groans.

"They scared me when they locked down the seventh floor."

"I'm safe." You wiggle your arms out of his grasp, unclasping your helmet and gloves to drop them, thumb brushing over his cheek. "I was heavily armored. I would have survived."

"Not a bombing." He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. "He could've shot you while sneaking through."

"He didn't. He had an objective." You close your eyes. "Thank you for signalling to not shoot."

"The daughter was watching." He lets go of you, bending down to pick up your gear. "That's more trauma than she can take. Did you see her cry for him when he was being taken?"

You blink at Spencer, shaking your head. "You alright? You were rambling."

"Got nervous." He mumbles. "I didn't want him to turn around."

"I would've shot him if he did. Had my pointer on the bottom of his spine."

"Paralysis."

"Yes." You hum. "I'll talk to Hotch, and we can go home, alright?"

He closes his eyes, hand resting on your neck as he touches foreheads with you. "Just... a moment."

"As long as you need."

[fangirlmermaid]

Quinn reading one of your dark romance books and not being able to look you in the eye would be such a good fic omggg

Summary: Quinn read one of your dark romance books by accident and now isn't able to look you in the eye

Warning: Sad Quinn, Lights out Spoliers, Grammar and punctuation mistakes

Note: I originally tried to make this light-hearted but then it kinda took a turn.

I tried my best! Hope you enjoy it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were out for the day with your sister, hitting up every bookstore Vancouver has to offer.

Leaving Quinn at home bored out of his mind. There was nothing good to watch, he wasn’t in the mood to play video games, and he read every book on his shelf.

That’s when his eyes landed on your bookshelf and the memory of you saying how no one reads the same books as you popped into his head.

Your sister was more into thrillers and mystery books, while you were into romance. Quinn normally didn’t like romance, but hearing the sadness in your voice made him change his mind.

Quinn strolled over to your shelf to look at your book selection. There was some hockey romance (He will 100% bring that up with you).

He was going to read Butcher and Blackbird but according to you, it ruins ice cream.

Then he found something that seemed interesting. He remembered it was one of your favorites, Lights Out. He remembered that it was a stalker romance, which he just assumed was about a stalker who fell in love with a girl but got arrested at the end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had a horrid look on his face, he couldn’t believe the chapter he just read.

Josh stabbed the bed with a knife and told Aly to ride it

AND SHE DID IT?!

Quinn would never judge you, especially about the things that you like but holy shit what the fuck!

Were you into this? 

Did you have a mask kink? Were you afraid that he would shame you?

Quinn's ears perked up when the front door unlocked. Panicked, he shoved the book behind the throw pillow and tried to act casual.

“Hi, lovey.” You smiled, closing the door behind you. Quinn saw bags and bags of books. He wondered how many books you had and now bought like Lights Out.

“Hi, baby,” Quinn mumbled, keeping his eyes on the floor. He couldn’t look at you. It wasn’t because he was mad that you read smut; you didn’t need his permission. So what was it? Was he feeling guilty that he wasn’t satisfying you?

“Quinny?”

Your voice pulled Quinn out of his thoughts “Hmm” he hummed looking up at the bookshelf you stood next to, hoping you didn’t notice. “Are you okay?” you asked knitting your eyebrows together, Quinn nodded as his mind replayed the knife scene.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you finished showing him all the books you got, you noticed his eyes were on the ceiling. Your stomach churned, did something happen when you were out? Was he mad at you?

You sat down next to him “You sure you're okay?” you asked staring at his side profile. Quinn sat frozen looking straight at the TV “Lovey?” you whispered raking your fingers through the ends of his head “Hmm” was all he was able to say “Look at me” you mumbled grabbing his chin and making him look at you.

His eyes landed on the top of your head, “did something happen while I was gone?” you asked, Quinn shook his head “Did I do something wrong?” Quinn shook his profusely.

Quinn gone mute was making your heart sink, he normally was so open with how he was feeling with you. You cupped his cheek “Baby, What’s wrong? You’re scaring me” you mumbled, your thumb stroking his cheek hoping this would do the trick.

Quinn kissed the pad of your thumb before leaning your touch, “Are you not satisfied?” Quinn mumbled softly you almost missed it, you tilted your head “What do you mean?” you wondered. Quinn finally looked at you “I remembered you saying that no one reads the same books as you…” Quinn started to explain, (your heart stopped, hoping he chose one of your PG-rated books). He grabbed the book he hid “And you were sad…so I wanted to read one so you had someone” Quinn explained placing Lights Out in your free hand.

You would feel butterflies if you weren’t so horrified, why couldn’t he have picked one of your hockey romance books? The book was the final piece of the puzzle to understand why he wouldn’t look at you and what he meant by satisfied. “Lovey, that was very sweet of you to do” You smiled, absolutely no one would read the books you would recommend no matter how hard you tried to convince them. You placed the book on the empty cushion next to you.

“Quinny, I am satisfied I promised”

“You sure?”

“100%”

“So I don’t need to start wearing a mask?”

You chuckled, Quinn would go above and beyond to make you happy. You tucked his hair behind his ear “No, I would miss looking at your handsome face” You assured, which seemed to perk him up.

Though the idea of him wearing a mask was hot

Quinn pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Lovey, next time you try to read one of my books just ask for my opinion” You added gazing at him, “Like your hockey romance books?” Quinn teased, you playfully smacked his chest pretending to be annoyed but your smile gave you away.

[loafysainz]

the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction & remake

next chap

Part 18 The Wine Memories

The blaring sound of a car horn echoed through the driveway, pulling Y/N away from whatever she had been doing. She rushed outside, her face lighting up as soon as she spotted the familiar car pulling in. Carlos was here—and with the kids.

"They’re back!" Y/N called out enthusiastically, practically skipping to the car. Her bright greeting was met with a chaotic mix of smiles and groans from the kids inside. " Hello? Your back so soon? Did you have fun?"

Mattia, sitting in the front seat, didn’t miss a beat. "We’ll be punished for a whole year," he said, deadpan, as he turned his head toward Y/N.

"Not a year," Carlos cut in, hauling a few bags from the backseat. "Just until today. Now, out of the car. All of you."

Y/N tilted her head, a mix of amusement and confusion on her face. "What?" she asked, before quickly scanning the car. Something—or rather someone—was missing. Her stomach sank slightly. "Where’s Meredith?"

Matheo, already halfway up the stairs with Mattia in tow, casually glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, we played a little prank on her, and... well, we think she down a little."

“little?” Carlos interrupted, incredulous.

Matheo chimed in, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “Well, she might be a little upset.”

Y/N blinked, struggling to hold back a laugh as she watched Matheo walk away. Her parenting instincts told her she should probably look a little more concerned, but the corner of her lips betrayed her.

Carlos stared at them both, chuckle a bit. “A little upset?”

Carlos, now climbing the stairs with a handful of bags, glanced at Y/N and shook his head in disbelief. "Can you believe it?" He held up a small object in his hand—a ring. "She threw this at me! At least it’s smaller than the plant you once threw at my head."

Y/N immediately tried to look remorseful, but the smile tugging at her lips made it impossible to sell the act. "I’m sorry," she said, her tone light and playful. "This is totally my fault. If I hadn’t suggested she’d come—."

“Suggested?” Carlos cut in, eyebrows raised. “More like tricked.” he shot Y/N a knowing glance.

Y/N placed a hand on Carlos’s arm, an apologetic smile on her face. "Carlos, I’m really sorry."

Carlos opened his mouth to respond, but Mattia, from the top of the stairs, beat him to it. "Yeah, we feel that way too, sorry dad" he said with exaggerated guilt, his tone dripping with dramatics.

Carlos groaned. “Like mother, like son,” he mumbled, trying not to smile. “Go. Upstairs. Now.”

The twins didn’t argue. They bolted up the stairs, their laughter trailing behind them.

Carlos watched them go, leaning against the banister with a faint smile. “I really need to remember to thank them one day,” he muttered sarcastically.

*******

With a sigh, Carlos leaned against the balcony railing, looking out at the garden below. "Anyway," he started casually, "where’s Chessy? I’m starving."

Y/N joined him at the railing, mirroring his relaxed posture. "Oh, Chessy and Martin? They went out for a picnic yesterday."

Carlos blinked, turning his head slowly to give Y/N a look. "Since yesterday?"

Y/N nodded, biting back a laugh.

Carlos shook his head, his voice dripping with disbelief. "Who would’ve thought? Chessy and Martin... together. What a couple." He let out a small laugh, his mind clearly wandering for a moment.

"So," Y/N said, turning to Carlos. "What do you want to eat?"

Carlos shrugged, his expression casual. "I don’t know... got anything on your mind?"

Y/N rubbing her hair, thinking. "Well, I know how to make pasta."

Carlos grinned. "Pasta sounds amazing."

Y/N perked up at the praise, her face breaking into an easy smile. "Alright, pasta it is."

****

Carlos opens his twin rooms, Matheo, tilted his head as he tried to hide a grin. “Hey, Dad. Wow you look nice today. Are you going somewhere?” he asked, testing the waters.

Mattia, cast a quick glance at his father. His lips twitched with amusement as he exchanged a knowing look with his twin brother.

Carlos, ever the composed figure, merely smiled as he closed the door behind him. “Sleep well boys,” he said, his tone as calm as the evening breeze. He left no room for questions, only a parting warmth that lingered in the air.

The boys high-fived as soon as he was out of sight, their silent celebration proof that everything was going according to plan.

Meanwhile, Carlos led Y/N into the heart of his winery, the space exuding warmth and history. “Welcome to my little sanctuary,” he announced, his voice carrying a blend of pride and excitement.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she took in the rows upon rows of meticulously arranged wine bottles. The sheer variety and care put into the display left her momentarily speechless. “This is… beautiful,” she said softly, her voice almost reverent. “It feels warms.”

Carlos’s smile, his pride evident. “Thanks. This place took me quite a while to build,” he admitted, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his tone. Y/N nodded, her gaze flitting from bottle to bottle, each label carrying a story she longed to uncover. “You must have so many memories here.”

“Want to see my favorite?” Carlos asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Y/N returned the smile, intrigued. “It would be a pleasure, Carlos.”

They walked through the cellar, Y/N trailing slightly behind as she admired the collection. Some bottles were dusted with age, others gleamed with a recent polish. The air was thick with the scent of oak barrels and the faintest hint of fermented grapes.

“Ah wait, look at this one,” Carlos said, stopping to retrieve a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. He held it up with a gentle reverence. “This was one of the first wines we ever produced. It’s a piece of history.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a soft smile. “You must have been so proud when it all came together.”

“More than proud,” Carlos replied, placing the bottle back on the shelf with care. “It was a dream come true.”

They moved further down the aisle until Y/N stopped, pointing at a bottle of Chardonnay. “What about this one?”

Carlos chuckled, a warm, hearty sound. “Ah, that’s my families favorites. Once we drank an entire bottle at Matheo’s birthday party.”

Y/N laughed along but felt a pang in her chest. The mention of Matheo brought back bittersweet memories. She had missed so much of her son’s childhood. Despite her efforts, the divide between them often felt insurmountable.

“Come on, there’s one more I want to show you,” Carlos said, his voice pulling Y/N back to the present. He led them to a quieter section of the cellar, where the bottles seemed to glow faintly under the dim lighting.

“This is where I keep my private stash,” Carlos said proudly, gesturing to the bottles neatly arranged like soldiers in formation.

Y/N smirked. “Meaty?”

Carlos shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a man of limited interest.” But there was a glimmer of humor behind his words.

“Y/N.” Carlos carefully pulled out a bottle, holding it as if it were a delicate treasure. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she recognized it immediately.

“It’s the wine from our wedding,” Carlos said softly. “Your favorite ever since.”

The words hung in the air like an unspoken confession. Y/N’s gaze flicked between the bottle and Carlos. She struggled to find the right words, her throat tightening. “You still have it?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Carlos nodded, his eyes never leaving Y/N. “I remember every moment of our life together. Sometimes, I come down here, open a bottle, and let the memories wash over me.”

Y/N felt his composure slipping. She blinked rapidly, trying to push back the tears that threatened to spill. “I… I remember those moments too,” she admitted, her voice cracking.

Carlos stepped closer, the space between them shrinking. “We could have a drink together. Right now,” he offered gently.

The moment felt too tender, too much for her to process. She turned away slightly, blinking. “You okay?” he asked, watching her carefully.

Y/N smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. She looked down, a single tear escaping despite her efforts. She wiped it away quickly, pretending it was nothing. “Yeah, I’m fine. Really. It’s just the wine cellar… it’s dusty,” she said with a forced chuckle.

Carlos wasn’t convinced. “Y/N, you don’t always have to be so strong. Not with me.”

Y/N shook her head, her voice barely steady. “What would I do, actually?”

The air between them was thick with unspoken emotions. They stood close enough to feel each other’s breath, their gazes locked in a moment that felt both eternal and fleeting.

But before anything could be said or done, the glare of headlights spilled into the cellar. A car door slammed, breaking the spell.

“That must be Chessy,” Y/N murmured, stepping back as if the light had snapped her out of a dream.

Carlos nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. “She has keys to the house.”

Y/N turned away, wiping at her face one last time before heading toward the exit. “Is anybody home?” Chessy’s voice called out from outside.

Carlos watched Y/N’s retreating figure, a mix of regret and longing etched across his face. “Yes, we’re coming up,” she finally replied, his voice carrying up the stairs.

As the sound of footsteps faded, Carlos looked down at the bottle in his hands. With a heavy sigh, he returned it to its place on the shelf, leaving behind more than just the wine.

prev chap

omg tomorrow is the ending guysssss 😭😭 tbh I want to post the ending today but I need the revise it, I feel like I'm still not fully satisfied with the result. So, I post this one first instead—hope you all like it! Thank you so much guyss for the wait 🤍

[lucygxybaird]

billy x shy reader - preview

“You with me, sweetheart?” Billy says softly, ducking his head to look you in the eye. “If you really wanna go home, we—”

You shake your head firmly. You don’t want to go home, not least of all because you know Billy really wants to stay; it’s hard for you, to be around people you don’t know very well, but Billy is the type of man who has never met a stranger. He likes parties like this (at least ones that are given by his friends, rather than — for example — a selfish, self-serving smarmy slimeball with an Irish accent and a proclivity for taking what doesn’t belong to him). 

You’re determined to stay at least an hour for him, maybe two if you can manage it. You know you’re going to be exhausted by the end of the evening, wrung out like a rag hung on the line, but you want to stick it out for Billy’s sake. 

It does help that he looks good. You love to see him in his neatly pressed shirt and waistcoat, the string tie — which you helped knot — around his neck, his hair neatly combed and smelling faintly of the apple-scented pomade he uses to make that sweet little cowlick he has lay flat. As if he’s reading your mind, Billy leans down further, his lips brushing against your ear. 

“Everybody’s gonna be jealous of me, walkin’ in with you on my arm,” he says. “Stick close to me, honey. I don’t want anyone stealing you away.” 

You only have time to giggle before the door is swinging open, revealing one of Tunstall’s maids. She gestures for you to come inside, and by the time you’ve flashed her a small, tight smile, people have already come up to Billy. You relax a little when you realize you recognize some of them — Manuela and Charlie, Tom, Mr. McSween and his wife, Susan. 

“You look lovely,” Susan says, smiling softly as she cups your elbow.

Your heart gives a little uneven thud, and you swallow. “Thank you,” you murmur, the corners of your mouth flickering briefly in return. 

You don’t let go of Billy’s arms as Charlie and Billy start talking about the last herd of cattle they moved for Tunstall, with Manuela and Susan chiming in every now and then — how Charlie came home late one evening, a cow pie smeared all over his boots and the seat of his pants; how Susan remembers one summer when she stayed with her uncle, who raised cows, and she gave them all flower names. 

You have a story yourself, one about your father trying (and failing) to get a cow up a flight of stairs to play a trick on a friend of his, but you can’t quite get your mouth to work. 

Even though you know these people, your throat still feels a little tight, the pit of your stomach going hollow, like you’re balancing on a tightrope. A part of you knows you’re being ridiculous. It’s the part that sounds an awful lot like your mother, when she would tell you to speak up, to enunciate, to stop hunching your shoulders. 

You wish you could explain it to her — to anyone — but it’s so difficult to put into words. 

Sometimes you feel as though who you really are is wrapped up in all these layers, wound around and around you, bound up so tight that it can be suffocating. You have to fight tooth and nail to drag out the same words, the same smiles, that seem to come so easily to everyone else. 

It takes time, to get through those layers, and not many people seem to want to put forth the effort. Certainly not at a gathering like this, where they’re just trying to have fun. And you can’t really blame them for that. You yourself have often wondered if what they find is worth the effort. 

Then, of course, there’s Billy. He’s never once made you feel like getting to know you, working through the awkward pauses and nervous huffs of laughter, the uncertain silences, is anything less than a pleasure. As if all that is nothing but a treasure map, and you’re the fortune waiting on the other end.

[fourfuckinghorsemen]

I think I need some time away.

[hawnks]

New low: coworker looked over at my phone and was like "who are you texting :3"

I was googling ham and cheese croissant. Not even a recipe or like where to get one, just "ham and cheese croissant".

I had nothing to do but admit the truth. "I had a dream about it last night."

Did not help my case, if you can believe it.

[paulic]

I vaguely remember Paul telling a story during his conversation with Jarvis Cocker about how he went to the gym and it was closed so he had to wait for an hour. He got out his guitar to kill the time and wrote a song. Bringing a guitar to the gym is actually insane girlie you’re addicted to music if this is true

[akashis-waifu]

As someone who's used to rareships, this is driving me insane

[wisteriaclaw]

anthy as a mink

i was struck by the idea whilst in the shower and like it fits ridiculously well?

flat color and wikipedia screenshot thing. the fact minks are the most popular animal to farm for fur is obvious so i didnt put that on there but yknow (and ultimately i decided the text distracted from the finished piece so its just here)

[lesbiancolumbo]

the last thing i’ll say about a real pain before moving on is: what if i said the more interesting performance in there actually belongs to jesse 🫥

[donut-entendre]

donut is the king of masking forever and ever. and he really does fool some of you

[lavellun]

currently going through it™ and mentally preparing to visit my mom for the next five days so, naturally, i made the rash decision to get a haircut tomorrow 🙃

[samijey]

cute goofballs 🥺🥺

[muchmossymess]

you guys have no idea how much i think about the malice champions (the game calls them "hollows" and thats quite frankly terrifying)

[choirose]

Abt the event: Am I insane or is Zayne's voice different again???? WHY

edit: either I'm really going nuts or his voice is truly quite inconsistent in the event. I played ch1 and sometimes he talks softly, but some lines are more...direct? They don't have those classical zayne pauses....

[saetoru]

i hate the word panties so much but i am forced to use it in this sentence bc no other word just flows as well i am shivering