#side profile shots my beloved MY MOST BELOVED

[louferrignojrofficial]

EVAN BUCKLEY 8x05 - MASKS

[currently-reading-a-book]

A Tale of Two Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: The seemingly shy Dr. Spencer Reid is interrupting you at the library, but don't let his quiet demeanor fool you...

Genre: smut

Warning: crime scenes; talking about murder, heated kiss, made up facts (let me know if I forgot something)

Word 1118 Count: words

A/N: As always, any criticism is very welcome. Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. English is not my first language. Not proofread.

Anyway, enjoy :)

✧ 🎀 -------------------------------------------------------------- 🎀 ✧

The building was huge. The dull grey walls ran through the whole building, seeming to never stop. You could easily get lost in one of the many departments of the FBI. An outsider would declare this building old and labyrinthine. However, for you, it was home or the closest place to one. Of course, you only have limited access as you’re just a trainee. You could only get inside the school side of the building, but you only needed the library to feel safe. Every possible minute of your free time you spend there. Being surrounded by piles of thick complicated books, trying to study every field of knowledge that exists. 

The sternmost part of the library was your favorite. Nobody was there and you could enjoy your peaceful solitude. This was also the part where unsolved closed cases were located. Reading through them, trying to find a repeating pattern, and making an accurate profile. Hoping the police can then find a suspect that fits the criteria. With this method, you have quite a success and solved relatively a lot of cases. That is actually how you got into the special program of the FBI. It all started when you were solving a case of strange murders your local police couldn’t solve. It turned out the priest took justice a bit too personally. You analyzed the victimology of the murders and started to make a profile. The police just needed forensic evidence, which luckily was found quickly. 

As you were nearly done with your profile on a murder case, in deep focus, someone disturbed your beloved peace. 

“You know sitting on the ground could raise your potential of getting sick by over 18%.” A shy voice stated.

Letting out a breath, you snapped your head around just to see a guy with long blond curly hair. You lowered your glance a bit and saw his ID Card. Your eyes shot open. You're on your feet within a few seconds. “This can’t be true, can it?” you thought.

“You’re Dr. Spencer Reid!”, you said, a bit too enthusiastic.

He backed up a bit, startled by your elation. He hesitantly nods his head. Of course, you heard of him, like everybody did. Maybe you liked him a bit too much, like not everybody did. 

He worked at the Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU) of the FBI and was also a professor at the academy. One of his most impressive traits was undoubtedly his intelligence. It was hard not to be impressed by the breadth and depth of his knowledge, which set him apart from others. You would often hear amazing stories about how his mind solved cases. He was incredibly skilled at what he did and a huge role model for many, also for you. Working with him was always a dream for many and again of course you dream about it too, maybe even more than others. “Suddenly, you remember your position. You’re a forensics student and he was an agent, even a doctor to begin with. Another point would be that you had a crush and didn’t want to scare him away.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was too excited,” you slowly admitted, locking down.

Embarrassment was written across your chubby face. He took a step closer, gaining confidence. He smelled incredible, masculine yet fresh and pine. Just like you imagined.

“I see you’re trying to solve the “Lucifer Case” and have you gotten any further with it?”, he asked, trying to break the awkwardness.

You look into his eyes, trying to read him. Confused why he would show any interest in you, you try to find out any motive by analyzing his body language, but you can’t find anything too convincing. A moment later he was standing beside you, looking through the files spread around you on the floor.

“I was just about to finish my profile before you interrupted, Doctor Reid”, you told him quietly. Your shyness got the best of you. 

“Oh, please call me Spencer, Y/N”, he responded promptly, “and I apologize for interrupting you.”

Your cheeks heated up. Looking at him shocked, he looked back smiling. Too astounded to notice that he had called you by your name, which you hadn’t told him yet. 

“Wait, how do you know my name?”, she questioned him embarrassingly late.

His smile got bigger. Even though he was close before, he reduced their distance some more. Now your back was pressing against the bookshelf, unable to escape his intense gaze. 

“Your reputation precedes you, Miss Y/L/N.” he hushed seductively. 

You swallowed hard, staying quiet. “What could this mean?”, you thought to yourself. Everybody in the study facility always said Spencer Reid was a shy nerd, but now you’re standing in the library with him towering over you.

“I was very impressed by your profile of the Cryptic Puzzle Killings,” he whispered into your ear, “it was a genius profile.” His voice was sending shivers down your spine.

“Doctor Reid,” you stuttered, but then interrupted you.

“it’s Spencer, remember?” You couldn’t think straight anymore. “I was holding back too long, I couldn’t resist any longer Y/N, please forgive me for my bad-mannered roughness,” he muttered as his lip brushed faintly over your neck. This was the moment your breath stopped. Am I dreaming? 

“Tell me if you want to stop,” he muttered as he placed sloppy kisses around my neck.

“No, don’t stop.” That was the only thing you could say; his hands feeling too good on you. How he griped your hips pressing your hips more into his clothed erection. Feeling his touch like hot burns all over your body.

“I needed to use this opportunity,” he breathed .

As you wanted to reply to his confession, all of a sudden, another voice was calling for Spencer.  Your cheeks flushed even more at the thought of getting caught with Spencer at this situation.

“Spencer, I said I would talk to her!” A stern voice was speaking with such authority. 

Spencer quickly stepped back, taking all his warmth with him. You were looking around, overwhelmed with the situation, trying to figure out what was happening. Still feeling hot after your heated situation with Dr. Reid. Spencer was now around two meters apart from you, smiling at you shyly. His duality will kill you someday. 

“Hotch I am here,” he quickly yelled back.

Whispering a quick apology to you before the tall black-haired guy showed up before us. His firm eyes looked into yours. He was standing in front of you with a straight face. Frankly, he seemed like a strict guy who didn’t understand any jokes. You’re starting to get the feeling that you did something bad. Your mouth got dry.

“Are you Y/N/Y/L/N?” the man asked you.

You nodded your head skeptically. Unsure of what consequences it might bring.

“I am Aaron Hotch, Supervisory Special Agent and Unit Chief of the BAU,” he continued, “And I am asking you Y/N to join the team of the BAU.”

Your head began to spin. 

[yan-randomfandom]

Hello! Call me Yan (any prns), and I'm honestly here to satisfy my cravings as a writer 😔

♪ REQUEST STATUS: OPEN—Although please understand if I was unable to answer yours!

WHAT DO I WRITE?

x reader, my beloved i dont use y/n tho

Yandere. There are times I won't write yandere, but it's my blog's main trait.

Please read at your own risk. There will be warnings at the start of the chap!

Headcanons, one shots, and drabbles

Mostly SFW — Sexual themes are mild at most. I do not write smut.

My account is multifandom. I am in multiple fandoms, so expect my content to be different every once in a while!

☕support me on kofi!

MASTERLIST... LIST

PART I: Masterlist

Keep reading if u wanna request!

SO, YOU'RE AN ANON

You can name yourself as an anon! It's a nickname of sorts

Feel free to use a name even if it's taken! This is because I hop around fandoms, so anons may come and go, plus it's definitely an easier way to find your request (in tags) 😺

Think of your same-name-anons as like,, wow, u have the same name as me! siblings frfr??

FANDOMS?

I lurk in many fandoms. Not about to list them all, though 😭 Mostly I write about my current obsession! Almost always it's my blog theme :O

Please don't hesitate to ask from wherever fandom you are! There's no harm in trying! :) Except BNHA. Preferably, no anime. (With the exception of Dandadan)

Better yet, feel free to list down your fandoms in the comments! Anything that you would want to see yandere content in! Just so I can browse and maybe write for!!

LIMITS?

No problematic shipping requests.

Unfortunately, I don't do OCs (':

If the character is 18-, they can be aged up if you'd like, but strictly no NSFW, or in certain circumstances, romance. They're gonna be platonic.

I don't do intense gore. While I do have yandere content, I'm on the sorta wholesome side? Define 'wholesome' ... Implied scenarios are more likely😩

I write non-yandere stories too tho!

Minors, please stay safe. Don't go meddling around with adult spaces!

Sadly, I'm lacking in knowledge of other popular media, so if you happen to request one of those, I might not reply. Instead, I'll be keeping your ask until one day I check that media out.

Doesn't matter if the character is well known or not! Cuz I WILL attempt to learn about your request!

Except real life people. I can do actors with their characters, but never peeps' government names.

Part 2s are my weakness. I'm sorry. Doesn't mean you should try asking me tho!

WHY IS MY REQUEST TAKING SO LONG?

...college

If it's something I've never posted about yet, then it's either I'm not in the fandom, or I'm just clueless.

But other than that... sometimes I take days— weeks— months? to truly click with an idea.

I want to enjoy whatever I'm writing, so I take a break until an idea comes up.

And there's also the fact that I'm working on multiple things at once 😭😭 I tend to focus on easier ones first!!

Also I usually think of ideas at night c:

Worst case scenario: I truly have zero idea for your request, I'm so sorry 😔

NOTES ABOUT ME!

Yandere is my guilty pleasure, I fear🤕

HOWEVER, I do not, and won't ever, condone the behavior I will portray in my writing. Please don't misunderstand, don't romanticize. They are purely fiction and for entertainment.

I regularly change my theme (profile, colors, banner, etc.) just so you know.

This account is for everyone,, we're all just trying to find content of our favorite character fr— so please don't hesitate to request :)

As I close my eyes to sleep, that's when I start imagining scenarios for my writing!

erm skibid toilet

[specific-dreamer]

📽️🎞️ it’s a new dawn, a new day, a new life for me 📽️🎞️

first things first: credit to @sodapopper for their hollywood au ! i’m in love with the idea, but i’m notoriously bad at multi chaptered fics so, socmed au !!

second: this takes place by about three months post their parents death (specifically the month is april) so darry is still able to joke and bully his brothers like any sibling and he’s starting to find his footing as a new guardian. soda is also still in school trying to convince darry to let him drop out. timeline wise this takes place in 1967 but i’m using modern movies bc i refuse to watch boring old ass western movies that don’t actually have a plot

Side notes: this is likely to be posted on twitter/bluesky just because i prefer the formatting and the ability to organize it as a thread. but ! i will do my best to keep updating it here as well. what else.

minor note: there’s no real plot really. im just adding stuff as i go, pls pls pls feel free to request something ! also the title is just a filler, i dont rly like it but i can’t think of anything better

that’s all ! greaser character profiles and about them under the cut <3

darry

20 years old, he/him

eventually soda’s manager purely because he doesn’t trust anyone else

made his twt account when he was like 14 and went by dj and it had the most embarrassing shit, so he deleted everything and privated

ponyboy

13 years old, he/him (trans female pony my beloved but she doesn’t realize it yet)

soda’s number one supporter

not really related but he bleaches his hair just for the hell of it so his hair is always blonde

sodapop

man of the hour

16, he/him and poly (steviepop will be making a feature at some point)

never once considered acting but he knows he’s handsome so why not give it a shot. if anything it’ll impress the fillies when they come back home

steve

17, he/him and also poly

ace’s twin

active on stantwt

when soda gets famous he posts things like “sodapop curtis will post an update at 3:13 am abt his new movie” but no one believes him until soda does post at 3:13 am and suddenly steve’s considered a stalker

johnny

16, he/him

also on stantwt but he’s a favorite bc he just posts pictures of soda taken from afar as if he was a regular person “omg guys is that who i think it is”

dally

16, he/them (idk it feels right i don’t have to explain myself to you /silly)

considered sodas acting coach but really he’s just bullying the script writers to make better/ more accurate westerns and gang movies

ace

17, she/her

steves twin

adores hollywood. she was first on board with soda becoming an actor and helps soda learn his lines

spoiler alert she also gets scouted

two-bit

18, he/him

originally he hangs back in tulsa with his family

darry’s confidant because the two of them are on the same page; they’re both worried about soda and want the best for him but they can’t help but imagine the worst

[mrsjavierp]

Where you belong?

Chapter 8 - Fill the Void

Javier Peña x latin!f!reader

Summary: Running away from life as you always knew to start a new position as Head Chief on a DEA Office, far away, on Colombia. There, you'll face violence, as you never thought you could. There, you'll meet Javier Peña, your stubborn agent...

Warnings (to the whole fic): +18!, angst, smut, cheating, last relationships, drug dealing - Narcos Universe (not so accurate), bad spanish, english is my second language, use of Y/N and Y/LN. No physical description of the reader, only your clothes (sometimes). The POVs are shifting between reader (first person and Narrator - 3rd person)

(If I forgot anything, tell me, pls!)

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Thanks for your feedback, hope you enjoy this chapter! Hope to hear from you all soon! I'm also working on two stories (one shots) to our beloved Joel Miller and our corny cowboy Agent Whiskey

Tag: @creedslove | @pedrostories | @mjoee13 | @immyowndefender | @iamsherlocked-1998 | @pedroswife69 |

***

Narrator’s POV:

Arriving at the CNP headquarters, Steve, Javier and you get there almost at the same time.

The tension between you and Javier was noticeable. Steve knew better than asking either of you: he wanted to live to see his girls again… And to catch Escobar.

When you locked the door in your office, the tears started appearing. 

You lied to Javier about not remembering breakfast: you hoped he lied about it too. You actually couldn't recall talking about Ben.

Fuck, was a name you didn't think in a very long time… 

Especially after meeting Javi.  

Is Javi that full of himself to say that to me? What did he mean by that? What did I tell him? And most important: what he really knew about Ben? - You thought.

On the other side of the door, Javier’s mind was racing, trying not to act by impulse. But he decided to call a friend in NYC, who could tell him all he wanted about your history with your ex. He needed to understand why you were so worked up, why that bothered so badly.

However, he didn’t want Steve to suspect anything. Luckly, they got a tip about La Quica again, that he was buying a toilet... The same one that was on La Catedral and heading to the hills on San Isidro road.

When Steve went to speak to Jacoby, to fly Centra Spike over that location, Peña took the shot and called Joe:

“Hey, Joe!” - he greeted him.

“Took you long enough, Javi, you bastard!”

“Well, I tried to avoid long distance calls, you know I hate them.”

“Oh, so the rumors are true, you left your wife in Texas?”

“I did... Better for her and little Lucas, you know…” - he was looking over his shoulder, but no one seemed to be paying attention to him.

“So, how is Y/LN on the colombian field?”

“So far so good, man. She's a good cop…”

“She was one of the best here… But I’m betting my chips that it is not about her resume you called, you want the dirty, am I right?”

Javier laughed. 

“You fucking bastard, I knew it!”

“So, what you’ve got about her and her ex?” - Peña asked.

“Peña, that was a huge mess… He was already working here for a while and, months later, she arrived from the NYPD through the front door and found by herself a lead to a prostitution scheme… It was so big that it was a closed door OP, top secret stuff, it was only her, me, our boss and another couple of guys. The operation involved high-class prostitutes, working for high profile narcos. Ben heard the rumors about the OP and tried to sweet talk her to join it… But you know how she is with her work… Things do not mix at all.”

“Oh, I know…” - Javi sighed.

“Yep, so you know the deal... At first, it was just an evil comment here and there. I don’t know if she heard it, she trusted him, she was going to marry him. We were working our asses off, long and crazy hours. He took advantage and lied to her. He got sloppy and the rumors continued to grow... But I still don't know what she knew. Anyway, his luck didn’t last long: we were about to bust a brothel on the night that the narcos were there. Guess who was in one of those filthy beds?”

“No way…” - Javier closed his eyes, incapable of believing it.

“Yep. She found out on the job. Didn't help when she also discovered that he was trying to trade inside info with criminals.”

“Fuck, he was a dirty cop?”

“Yep. Luckily, she was too up-tight with all of her work. Not only was she as clean as a whistle, she got promoted to Colombia.”

“I can't believe it. Fuck...”

“Like a motherfucking movie, am I right?”

“Thanks for telling me. I can understand her behavior now…”

“She's one of the best cops I've ever got to work, Peña. She didn't deserve that.”

“I believe you. Well, thanks, man. Call if you need anything.”

Peña hung up the phone, if he was a mess before, now he was a wreck. The same questions were going through his mind again: How is he going to keep Lorraine away? How will he manage his boy's custody? How is he divorcing her and keep you in the dark, until the process is over?

A couple hours later, the tip to Centra Spike  worked: a conversation between another sicario, Velasco, and his lover is recorded.

You, Steve, Javier, Centra Spike, Mili Group and CIA reunited to see area’s maps:

"Well, we can discard the smaller ones... Not Escobar's style." - Steve pointed out.

"Which one of these has at least 2 roads of access?" - you ask.

"This one, Y/LN." - Jones, from the CIA, responded.

"This is your winner, niños." - you draw a circle, indicating it.

"Y/LN, what about Pinzón? We're gonna need men, equipment, cars..." - Javier commented.

"Leave Pinzón to me, Peña." - you responded.

You went back to his office, but he refused.

"¡Cabrón!" - you thought.

You went back to yours, but in the way, Steve talked to you:

"Jefe, any luck?"

"Not yet... But let me handle it. He doesn't know who he's dealing with." - the boys looked at each other, curious.

You called Crosby, Crosby called Gaviria and… Let's wrap it up: about 15 minutes later, you all were preparing to bust Escobar.

All the efforts for nothing, unfortunately: Escobar escaped through your fingers, again.

Escobar, however, made a career fooling and killing police officers, what he thought was going to a truce about to happen turned into a fuse to another battle, which made him even more dangerous.

Days later, you all were right as the skies were blue: another attack came. 

Escobar's sicarios killed a bunch of Pinzón's men all around Medellín… 

Pinzón chose to resign - it was the last drop to his sanity. He wanted personal peace more than to defend his country… How would someone judge him? 

Escobar killed more than four hundred cops a year - although it was a risk, it had no garanties on being alive and no one could fulfill any expectations to actually get it done.

*

Days passed by and President Gaviria decided to bring Coronel Carrillo back from Spain, as soon as he could.

The first thing Carrillo did was talk to you, since Peña and Steve weren't alone anymore:

“So, Y/LN… You're the boss now. I hope that we can work together at the same pace.” - Carrillo smiled at you.

“Well, I can't say anything about style, but we sure make a hell of a team. I'm saying the same thing as I said to Peña and Murphy: I'm also a field agent… Don't let the high hills fool you.”

He smirked.

“Vamos, Y/LN. I've got to say hi to an old friend…”

****

Carrillo decided to put up a show: tell in grand style about who's back in town. The actual goal was putting Escobar's partners on the map, by transmission. So Carrillo would stick his nose out and so would Escobar.

He lets you, Javier and Steve mapping Escobar's spies.

About a couple hours later, he came back and you and your inside team did the best you all could to track them all.

“We captured six radio transmissions.” - Jacoby informed. - “But we haven't pinpointed the exact location.” 

“So our best bet is to corner each of these buildings. This time, we hit the ground.” - you said.

Carrillo ordered his soldier, Trujillo, to send 6 unmarked cars with 4 men each, to observe the buildings, with 20 minute-intervals to avoid attention.

After that, he called Peña to join him.

“Be careful out there.” - you warn them.

Minutes later, when you and Steve are alone, you ask:

“Steve, is he always like that? Taking Peña up and down?”

“Sometimes, Jefe… He probably just wants an update to what happened from someone he trusts… He doesn't know you yet, it's his way.“ - Steve told me.

You'd show Carrillo who you really were: a woman younger than all three (Steve, Peña and himself) whose balls were bigger. 

***

Peña, Trujillo, Carrillo and other officers captured 6 of the boys who were working for Escobar. 

They took them to a hidden alley, on Bairro Escobar.

They are on their knees, scared. Well, 5 of them, at least.

“Do you know who I am?” - Carrillo started. - “My name is Coronel Horacio Carrillo. Last week, 30 police officers were murdered.”

“Those pigs probably deserved it.” - one of them said.

“Shut up, kid.” - Javier murmured.

“Many of them were my friends. A person perched on rooftops guiding murders with radios are assassins themselves… I hope after this encounter you'll reconsider working with someone who thinks he's above the law.”

Although Javier knew Carrillo was right, something felt off. Wrong.

At the same time, Carrillo cocked his pistol.

“What?” - another boy provoked. He was no more than fifteen, brown skin. - “Am I supposed to shit my pants in fear?”

Javier's stomach ached badly. It's been a while since he was afraid of something.

“No.” - Carrillo responded, shaking his head. He pointed the gun and shot, with no hesitation.

His body just fell on the floor, like it was nothing.

“Am I making myself clear? I want you to tell your friends that this is what happens when you work for Pablo Escobar!” - he shouted.

Carrillo analyzed the boys and chose one: the youngest, probably no more than 7 years old. The boy was crying, in silence.

He bent down, looked deeply in his eyes and handed him a bullet.

“Take it.” - the little boy obeyed. - “Tell them this is for Pablo.”

Carrillo stood up again, as if nothing happened.

“Remember what you saw… And know what will happen to you if I see you on a rooftop. You can leave. Now!” 

The five boys ran as if their lives depended on it.

Javier couldn't move. He felt like throwing up. He looked at Carrillo, as if he asked something. 

Carrillo’s expression was cold and distant.

They all drove back to CNP in silence.

When they arrived back, Steve met Javi on his way out.

“Javi, where are the fucking spotters?” - Steve asked, anxious.

“Carrillo went a different way… He, uh… He cut them loose.” - Javier responded, screeching his head, tense. How the hell is he going to tell what happened?

“Oh, we're letting people go, now? I bet Y/LN will be pissed AF…”

Javi rolled his eyes and, lighting up a cigarette, said:

“Yeah, Murphy, we're letting people go.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Don’t worry about it, man.” - Javier opened the door of his truck. He needed to leave as fast as he could. He needed a hug. He needed to feel human again.

“Hey, fucking talk to me!” - Steve demanded, interrupting the friend.

“Let go my fucking arm.” 

“What the fuck happened?!” - Steve continued to bother Javier.

Javier sighted and responded:

“Carrillo put a gun to the kid's head and pulled the trigger… To make a fucking point.”

Steve swallowed hard. 

“We good now?” - Javier mocked, entered his car and headed to the apartment complex where you all lived.

***

About late at night, you hear fervorous knocks at your door.

You were awake, since you just got home.

You pick up your gun and open the door, without noticing that you were only wearing a thin long gray dress, showing your curves.

It was Javier, looking like shit with a bottle of whiskey and a cigar in hand.

“Let me in, please, cariño.” - his brown eyes were almost black. Sad and big.

You put down the gun and let him in.

“Peña, you look like shit… What happened?” - you asked, as you both sat down on your couch and he served whiskey to both of you and put the cigar in the astray.

“Salut, cariño.” - he raised his glass.

You raised as well, drank it up and put away the glass.

“Damn, Peña. That's good stuff… You didn't answer me. What happened?” - you uttered. You knew something bad had happened. The cigar, the good whiskey, his painful expression…

“Cariño, I… I don't know how to say it.” 

“Start from the beginning, Javi… I'm right here.” - you suggested, softly.

You were genuinely concerned for him.

He kissed your lips, softly, by surprise. 

You stop after a few minutes, reaching out for air. Your apartment felt like a thousand degrees. Your body was sweating, the adrenaline was running through your veins. But, again, you’d deny even from yourself.

“Javi…” - he already knew what you're going to say and he doesn't want to hear it again. 

“Cariño, please don't. Not now. I need to forget about today's route.”

“Okay, baby boy.” - you sat on his lap and kissed him deeply. He melted under your lips, his hands touching your body, hungry.

You only needed an excuse to be with him again. 

Just one more night… - you thought.

If you were wearing pants, they'd be on fire.

“Cariño, just a heads up…” - he started.

You looked at him, confused, waiting for the rest.

“I won’t be gentle. Right now, I can't. I'm really not capable… Are you okay with it?”

You continued on his lap, but now, you put your knees on each side of his body and he involved his arms around you. Even wearing clothes, the electricity was passing through both of you.

“Show me your worst, Peña… I dare you.” - you whisper.

He smiled, but his eyes darkened with lust.

Javier literally ripped your dress, revealing your skin.

“Hey! Are you fucking crazy, Javi?” - you yell at him. - “I’m gonna fucking…” - you didn't finish, as he slapped your cheek, not enough to hurt you, he never would, but enough to surprise you and make you shut up.

“You don't speak until you're spoken to, babygirl. You don't come until I say so. You won’t do anything without me saying. If you behave like a good girl, I may let you cum. If not, I'm gonna punish you. Understood?”

You shook your head positively, incapable of believing in what was happening.

He slapped your ass, bringing you back.

“Words, cariño.”

“Yes, I understood it.” - you responded, in a low voice.

Who was that man on Javier's body and where he was the first night we were fucked? - you thought. 

“Good girl, cariño…” - he touched your body, started at your neck and went down to your waist. - “Now, how do I begin? I've got so many options, so many possibilities… I know we only had sex one time, one night, but I feel like I know your body really well, cariño.”

You looked at him, anxious, waiting.

He picked you up in his arms and took you to your bed.

“Now, we're ruining your bed, cariño.”

He ripped your panties and, with no warning, kissed your mound. You relaxed as he kissed slowly for a bit. 

He got up, leaving you clenching over nothing.

He began to take off his suit and tie, your eyes hungry for him, mouth watering.

“What do you want, cariño?” - he asked, eyes locked up with yours.

“Can I help you undress, Javi?”

“Such a polite girl… Yeah, you can.”

You took off his tie, letting it rest on the bed. Helped him with the buttons on his shirt, holding back the urge to rip them as he did with your dress.

He took off his shoes and socks and you unbuckled his belt, letting it side with the tie… You had a dirty idea, but it would have to wait a bit.

At last, his pants went down with his boxers.

He was deciding on what to do, but you couldn't wait. Your hand touched his lower belly, aiming for his dick. 

“Oh, cariño, you want to use your mouth, now? Wanna please me?”

“Yes, Javi.”

“Beg for it.” - he said in that condescending tone you hated.

“Javi, please, let me suck your dick.” - you coo.

He caressed your cheek with one hand and the other held his shaft.

“I don't think you want it enough, cariño.” - and he slowly started going up and down his length. He had a stupid cocky smile on his face.

“You know I can be better than your hand, Javi… Please, let me touch you, I'm begging you…” - your voice barely was a whisper into your room.

“Go ahead, cariño… But don't be greedy. I don't wanna come right now.”

Your lips wrapped around his tip, while he held your head. Your tongue and lips worked up and down, while one of your hands cupped his balls.

“Fuck, cariño… I knew you were missing me, but didn't know you were so hungry for my cock.”

He grabbed your hair, setting the rhythm, until you couldn't stand only worth your knees on the bed, needing to claw at his tights, and your nose almost touching his pelvis. 

He was fucking your throat and you were so wet.

His mouth was making obscene sounds, saying how good you're doing, how badly he missed you and your beautiful lips.

He slowed down the rhythm, until he stopped, taking it off your mouth. His dick was aching for more, but he wanted to come inside of you.

“You did good, cariño. Can you continue to be a good girl for me?”

“Yeah, Javi.” - you responded. Your legs were trembling, your pussy throbbing for attention.

“Lay down and open your legs for me… Yes, just like that. Tell me, where did you leave your vibrator?”

“In the bathroom, the second drawer.”

“Don't move.”

He picked it up and examined it, curious about the pink wand in his hand.

“So, you've been touching yourself in the bathroom? Door closed? Biting your lips or a towel to not make any noise?”

You don't respond to it, you’re just running away from his glaze. 

He slapped your ass again.

“Look at me while I talk to you.” - he demanded. - “Answer me!”

“Y-y-yeah, Javi. I was doing it in the bathroom, biting a towel.” - you murmured.

“Now, you're gonna show me what you've been denying from me to hear, such as in person as through these walls… But don't come. Not until I say so.” - and handed you the vibrator.

“But Javi, I can't control myself when I use it…”

He smiled, the same sly smile you knew and hated.

“That's not my problem. You come when I say it.” - he was being ruthless towards you.

With your right hand shaking, you started to use your wand on the softest mode, as you were so aroused since it all started.

Your room was filled with vibration sounds and your moans. Your eyes looking at his figure, wishing he’d do something to you instead. 

You were also a hundred percent sure Javier was punishing you somehow. He wanted to prove himself again.

Javier, on the other hand, was admiring you. The way your pupils were dilated, your body was shaking, your smooth skin chilling, your beautiful pussy soaking wet… If he could, he'd take a picture just to eternalize that moment.

“O-o-oh fuck, Javi… I can't take it anymore… I'm so close, please, let me come!” - you beg.

He smirked at you.

“Oh, cariño, you're close?” - he leaned towards you, as if he was going to enter at your pussy. It only made it worse and closer, as you could almost feel his scent and his warm skin.

“Holyfuck, Javi, please! Please let me!” - you beg, desperately.

He grabbed his belt, tied your wrists together, holding your vibrator in your clitoris. After, he shoved his dick inside of you.

“Go ahead, cariño. Come for me and on me.” - he ordered.

You thank God he said that. You squealed his name high, releasing all of your juices onto him.

You were positively sure you woke up your neighbors.

“Oh, fuck! So good for me, cariño.” - Javier praised you.

He continued without any pity towards you, pounding hard inside you. 

Not only you’re embarrassingly wet, you were so overstimulated that the orgasm was knocking at your pussy again, so fast

“I love when you yell my name, cariño!” - he said, full of bliss.

“Javier, for god's sake!” - you yell again.

“¡Mierda! Cariño, are you close again?” - he asked with a devilish tone. - “What a delicious greedy pussy, missing me so much… Oh, fuck!”

Tears began to go down your face. It was impossible to hold anything more and, without his permission, you came again, your body shaking vigorously.

“Holy fuck, Y/N!” - It was his time to yell your name as loud as he could. - “I can... I can feel... You're so fucking tight, you're gonna rip my dick off!"

He untied you and turned off your wand. It relieved you for a bit, but he laid on top of you and chased his own orgasm. 

After he came, you both lay next to each other, gasping for air, eyes locked up to each other.

“I missed you so much, Javi…” - you reveal.

He smiled, happy. His hand went to your cheek, fondling.

“Yo también te extrañe, cariño. You have no idea…” (I missed you too.)

“I think I do, Javi… Te extrañe todos los malditos días desde la primera noche.” (I missed you all those damn days, since the first night.)

“Gracias a Díos, cariño. I thought I was alone in this mess.” (Thanks God.)

You laughed together.

“You can't pretend that you don't want to be with me anymore, cariño. I'm serious.” - he declared.

You sighed.

“I know, Javi… But we also know it's not that simple… We work together, I'm your boss, Escobar is on the run…”

“We can take it slow, we don't have to do anything you don't feel like it. But don't push me away again.” - Javier begged you.

“I really don't know how to, Javi. I don't know how to. I haven't dated since…” - you didn't finish.

His eyes were soft and warm, like cocoa on a winter night. Your heart felt like an ice cube on the sun, again. 

“Since your ex, Ben?” - he asked.

“Yep.” - you responded, popping the “p”. - “‘It’s not gonna be easy for you, so I’d like to warn you: if you have anything to tell me, tell me as soon as possible. I’m not gonna demand you to do it now, but think if you have anything to tell me, and if you do, you can.”

“First, we need to get to know each other. Build trust and I’m not talking about the field. Let’s get to know each other, talk, laugh, have sex, grab a bite. We’re neighbors, we don’t even need to leave our apartments if you don’t want to.”

“No one can know about us, Javier Jesus Peña. Not even Murphy.”

“Don’t worry about it, cariño.” - he pecked your lips softly.

“And please, don’t sleep with anyone else and it includes your informants.” - you rolled your eyes. - “I know, it’s stupid since we’re not in a relationship, but if you want to do it, please, just end this… this thing we’re about to begin. I’m not saying that again.”

“Cariño, for God’s sake!” - Javier laughed, his hand left your face to your waist. - “No one ever made me feel this way.” - you laughed. - “I’m serious, hermosa. Don’t worry about it.”

You breathe out heavily.

“Well, let’s see how it goes.” - you say, still not allowing your heart to sink further. - “We need a shower, Javi. Care to join me?”

He smiled and you both entered your bathroom... But Javier's mind didn't care for sleeping. He still needed to punish you for coming without his permission, while you were filling the bathtub, distracted.

"Of course, cariño... Besides, you haven't exactly been a good girl for me for a few days. Don't think I'll let you escape that easily."

Your eyes went to his naked figure, surprised.

"Oh, I thought I was off the hook..."

Next

[syncogon]

inktober 2024 review

Completed Inktober 2024! Last time I did this was in 2018, with some dinky little doodles in a notebook. Now I'm learning digital 💪

Prompts were from the QZGS rarepair week for 2024 and 2023. Next year perhaps I'll continue going down the list. I tried to have a specific area/skill I wanted to work on with each day.

Sharing my favorites here! The rest are all at @synco-arts. Please click for full size / colors!

5) "fragile": [RS] This is my favorite shot of the Rainbow Sea OP, which is already such a banger full of symbolism and narrative. The way this moment is directed to make you think you're watching Maidang himself, until the moment he punches and the mirror shatters and you realize—oh, his Rainbow Stone was on the wrong wrist, it was a reflection all along. Timed to the music, it's so excellently done...

9) "wait": [GFS] X waits, alone and helpless, for news of his father's surgery. He can only watch from afar, and the framing of the background is meant to evoke his car window. He didn't want news of his current situation to cause stress that would worsen his father's heart condition, but his absence is already causing stress enough—yet this was the only course he felt he could take to save his family...

13) "caution": [RS] I love Tang Wude and I love this moment, what can I say? Strolls in looking wack and casual, and then immediately establishes dominance over a crew of criminals. Umbrella users my beloved. This one might be my favorite overall due to all the colors and lighting, and the background was so much fun to draw!

17) "precious": [YB2] Eighth Room is so precious to me. Just look at them! I think this was the one I spent the most time on? This is a redraw of a shot from one of the reality shows the actors filmed together. Spent some time debating what hairstyles to give them; I need to give it some more thought still.

18) "abandon": [TKA] I want to get better at putting together nice sketch pages! Also at hands lol. I was surprised? impressed? that I managed to make Tyranny ZJL look older and more tired compared to HB ZJL—I'm not sure if it was even so distinct in the original.

19) "past": [YB1] I liked the composition of these images, and drawing this moment upon the brushstrokes of the background. I think about this flashback and cri everytime

23) "foreign": [YB2] I wanted to practice side profiles, didn't like how his turned out, but then really DID like the second sketch I did, which was way more fun than I anticipated. He looks cool! Maybe too cool. The extremely intricate outfits are fun to depict in sketch form, and I like his hairstyle here even though everyone was roasting it lol. The lines of the background are just roughly meant to evoke what was actually in the bg of the reference shot, but I quite liked the effect.

25) "freedom": [YB2] I just really like how Chu Niao turned out here, with the details of her costume and her expression. Look at them talking about their future 🥺

26) "peak": [YB2] I think this was the only painterly one I did, but I liked how the vibes turned out—the half-obscured fire, the costume of a god, the crouched figures, the distant mountains and clouds. A unique shot that should be very distinct to those who've watched.

29) "color": [YB2] As you can see I was feeling very emo about YB2 in the latter half of the month haha. This was such an emotionally charged scene and there are 3000 words packed into Wen Wuqi's glance back as Hua Cishu carefully avoids meeting the gaze of someone he's not supposed to know...

[shirogane-oushirou]

OMG RO HAPPY ANNIVERSARY WAJFEKAHFEKE ;-; take this as an opportunity to gush if you want!! <333

KJNASDKJN THANK YOU NICK!!! technically i messed up yesterday, it's actually tomorrow kjsndfjkn, but i started the gif and art reblogging early bc i've collected so many lmao ;; i'm the only oushirou gif-maker and people WILL see my boy!!!!!

i was going to gush on my anniversary art post, but you've handed me a golden opportunity to do it here. you will regret this. :3c 💞

[cw quick mention of a scene where he's called a slur]

oushirou's been my most beloved, specialest, best boy since my first year in college. i was working my way through the games, and i saw his profile in some artbook scans, and i went... who the FUCK is this guy??? KAJSNKDJN. i hated his design so much; it didn't fit with the rest of the series's designs.

but he immediately won me over as a side character in the pc game, and then i was Doomed the second i booted up to play the PSP port with the added oushirou route (our 13yr anniversary is the day i started posting about playing his route lol). i became The Oushirou Guy™ in the eng fandom from that point on ;; and, of course, now i'm like "i need MORE characters who look like this guy, RIGHT NEOW" kjsnfkjn.

and then a year later -- 12 years ago tomorrow -- the last game released AND, FINALLY, he had his own karedanna cd! a fandom friend sent a rip to myself and my also-oushirou-lover friend, as we were waiting for ours to ship... and he proposes in it. my friend and i both made this day the wedding anniversary in commemoration. i even have some ancient joke art i made on the release day itself LMAO

i love him so much more than i think i let on; ren's my main right now, so that's what people know me for, but oushirou really is The Blueprint for me.

he's so self-driven. he could have lived a cushy, comfortable life following the family trade as a western fortune teller, but he would rather throw that -- and an unealthy relationship with his family -- away so he could follow his dreams of being a photographer and journalist.

and he's loyal. after his life is saved by another student (kazuki), and he realizes kazuki will be held back due to spending too many days recovering from the injuries he incurred, he makes sure he's also held back a year so he can play as kazuki's right-hand-man during the remainder of their time at seigetsu academy.

also like... ngl, him being a scorpio is like 👀 he's a freak like me LMAOOOO we can be like "every zodiac girlie hates our pussiessss" together. 💖

oh. and then of course he's the Ambiguously Queer Character of the series. he's a little fruity w it in general, he loves crossdressing, he's flirty with kazuki, homare, and shiki, he's stated outright that his love for kazuki and tsukiko are equal and he can't decide between them, and his fashion sense is just a little cherry on top ksjdnfk.

ugh. honeybee's just itching to call him a slur i s2g.... wait omg wait they actually had some one-off characters call him a slur in his first route KJASNDKDJNSDFKJN WAIT???????? I JUST REMEMBERED??????? it was one of the first scenes i translated from his route i'm lksnfkns oh my fucking god. and everything since then has been like. doubling down without actually calling him anything. crying omg ksjdnfkjns.

ANYWAY. just a year ago, he was the character everybody associated me with, only beaten out once ren appeared. even my art username is based on him (zerofoursix -> 0-4-6 -> o-shi-ro -> oushirou). he's pulled me through so many things, from shitty college experiences to my health issues... to even being part of the reason why i picked art back up after i took a 5-6yr hiatus due to art school burnout. ;;

i love him so so much, forever and ever, my beloved hentai sentai red*, my adhd king, my most skilled f/o by a LONG shot**, my scorpio twin, my misunderstood weirdo... he's Everything to me 😭💗

* think i've posted about it once before, but it's a running joke that he's a sentai hero who regularly saves tsukiko from creeps in his AW route ;;

** photographer, journalist, multilingual, fashion-forward, western fortune teller, super emotionally intelligent... i could go on. the guy hides SO MUCH of his power level around others.

[lucreziaq2001]

•TV show: "Criminal minds".

•Content warnings: Mentions of a baby who died in his mother's womb around 37 weeks into the pregnancy, his mom going through the whole pregnancy without a partner or spouse by her side (by choice), her having to give birth to her son after having found out he had passed away, her having to leave him at the hospital and go back home, mentions of a baby's funeral, her feelings after the loss of her baby (grief, wanting to isolate from her friends and many others), her accepting to meet her friend's newborn baby, but entering into a delusion in which that child is her son, her baby watching over her from Heaven and praying she'll be okay one day and her finally letting out all her feelings with one of her two closest friends helping her.

•This One Shot is an AU in which JJ and Will's second baby didn't die and was born alive in mid 2011. I named her Margaret because Maggie, the name JJ said she would have given her in the show, is not a full name, it's more of a nickname and it is her nickname here too. Emily also didn't go through the "thing" with Ian Doyle and JJ didn't have to leave her team in this story.

•I know JJ and Will weren't married yet in 2011, but to make things easier for myself, I chose to refer to him as her husband, since that's what many people do in my country with live-in partners, mostly if they have kids together. I hope this doesn't bother you.

•I don't fully know how maternity leave works in the USA, especially for an FBI agent, so I made those details up. If you know more about this, feel free to correct me, though.

•I don't know if Emily was religious in "Criminal minds", but even not religious people say that their dead loved ones are in Heaven, so I used that word around the end of the story.

•Tags: @lex13cm, @golden1u5t, @arabellavernierwrites (who helped me write this a pretty long time ago), @asolitaryrose3, @oneshotnewbie, @whotfskai, @marril96, @babiebom.

Until they'd meet again

On July 5, 2011, her first day back at work after her five-weeks-long leave, when Emily Prentiss walked into the bullpen, the first thing she would have liked to do was scream as loud as she could.

Why?

Well, because not really knowing what to say to her, all her co-workers and friends just asked "Are you alright?".

What Emily would have wanted to say was "No, I'm not! Who the hell would be alright just one month after their baby's death?!?", but to avoid worrying her friends and most of all, knowing they wouldn't have been able to understand what she was going through, what she ended up telling them was just "Yes, I'm okay".

She knew they didn't believe her, also because she wasn't able to look them in the eye while saying that.

Most of them were FBI profilers, after all.

Analyzing human behavior was their job.

None of them pressured her to open up, though, and Emily was partly happy, partly annoyed by that.

Less than half an hour after she had arrived at the office, she was already convinced that the worst part of her day was going to be having to stay at work, around people who didn't know how to talk to her, but shot pity-filled looks at her every few minutes, while all she actually wanted to do was go back home, the only place were she would have been alone, lay in bed and just miss her baby boy.

Her beloved Isaac, whom she had gotten pregnant with thanks to a sperm donor, had died in her womb in late May of that year.

His mother had found out about that on May 28, exactly thirty-eight weeks into her -at least until then- healthy pregnancy.

Hearing her doctor say "I'm so sorry. There is no heartbeat" had been more devastating than anything she had ever been through to Emily, and finding out she still had to deliver her son was even harder.

After two days spent locked up in her apartment, mostly crying and staring mindlessly at the TV, in the late afternoon of May 30, Emily had gone to the hospital to give birth to her much loved and wanted little boy.

The next morning, at 10:40 am, Isaac William Prentiss had come into the world, lifeless, but still perfect in his mother's eyes.

For the next two days, Emily held him every second she could, trying to memorize every single one of his features, talking and singing to him and taking more pictures than she could have counted.

Then, the time had come to say goodbye, and leaving Isaac to the nurses while she went back home was one more heartbreak for her to deal with.

For almost five whole weeks, she stayed cooped up in her house, only going out on the day of Isaac's funeral and one evening because her friend Penelope had basically forced her to go out with her.

That night, Emily had just wanted to go home as soon as possible, but on her first day back at work, in spite of her still very present heartbreak, she craved nothing more than to have normalcy and a healthy routine again.

That was why, although it had only been a little over a month since her son had passed and she would have had the right to three more weeks of paid leave, she had insisted on returning to the bureau.

There, however, everyone was tip-toeing around her, going the extra mile to make sure everything within their job maintained some sense of balance.

The team was trying their hardest to provide stability to the grieving mother Emily now was.

The next day, however, their friend and co-worker JJ, who had given birth to her daughter Margaret just three weeks prior, had decided to come see them.

She hadn't brought the baby with her, but she knew she was going to have to bring her up at some point.

Everyone else on the team had already been to her house to meet little Margaret for the first time, and JJ was now nauseous at the idea of having to find a way to invite Emily's freshly broken heart.

"Emily" she said, tapping softly on the door to her friend's office "Can I talk to you real quick before I go back home?".

Hardly looking up from her papers, Emily nodded and just responded with "Of course".

JJ timidly entered the room, still unsure of how to say what she wanted to tell the older woman.

"I thought now would be a good time to talk to you about this. As you know, I just had a baby. If you refuse, I understand. I want you to do what's best for you now. Don’t feel pressured or think that you somehow have to spare my feelings in any way-" she started to explain, but Emily soon interrupted her.

"JJ" she told her "You can ask the question".

JJ swallowed intensely.

"Would you like to meet my daughter?" she then asked.

Even though she had given her friend permission to ask her that, when she heard those words, Emily felt like she had just been punched in the stomach.

She tried to hide the fact that that question had knocked the wind out of her, but even a brief mention of a baby was enough to send her back into the pit of despair she was actively trying to claw her way out of.

"I can’t wait" she still forced herself to say, giving JJ a half-fake smile.

She was genuinely happy for her, but also fighting a losing battle inside.

The idea of her friend's new baby stormed up inside Emily.

She remembered what it felt like to hold her little one for the first time, his soft skin, his tiny fingers and toes and his impossibly long eyelashes.

He was perfect, but no screams had come from him.

Unlike all the other babies there that day, he hadn't been born alive.

So much of Emily was happy that JJ was getting to experience becoming the mother of an alive baby for the second time.

One of the most precious things life could offer was in the palms of her friend's hands.

But still, heartache consumed her.

She was devastated that there was still so much life and beauty in the world, when she had just had to experience a death so earth-shattering.

The idea of meeting JJ's baby made Emily's heart race, but still, she agreed to do it, and a few hours later, there she was, sitting on JJ's couch, an evening full of homecooked meals and genuine conversation leading her up to that point.

"Here she is, Auntie Emily" JJ told her with a smile on her face, placing her baby girl into Emily's protective arms.

The older woman's first reaction to that was a chuckle of disbelief she just couldn't hold in.

Her mind twisted at the memory of her own sweet baby, the one that she had been grieving so violently over.

She wasn’t sure what it was, motherly hormones or just pure reality-distorting heartbreak, but she felt like she was holding her late son.

That thought poisoned her mind, the maternal instinct pumping through her veins, her heart intertwining with the one of the baby in her arms.

"She’s perfect" Emily whispered, overcome with emotion.

"She is, isn’t she?" JJ replied with a smile on her face, taking a seat in a chair across the room, keeping an affectionate eye on the two of them.

"You're just the sweetest thing, aren’t you?" Emily then cooed, completely enamored with the infant in her arms.

She felt like she was getting sucked deeper into the sickening hole of motherly grief.

She didn’t feel real anymore and to her, the baby she was holding wasn't JJ's daughter.

It was her son.

Her innocent child she should have protected from all things evil in the world.

Now she had a second chance, and anyone and anything that would have even tried to harm that baby would have died at her hands before being able to come near the child.

"You just need someone to keep your little heart safe, sweet boy" she cooed as she stroked the baby's big, round cheeks with love "You need your mommy to keep you safe".

By that point, JJ had become weary of her friend's behavior, since she had witnessed a shift behind her grieving eyes.

"Will, how about you go upstairs to see if Henry is sleeping?" she decided to tell her husband, mostly wishing to salvage the image of her co-worker, not wanting anyone else to have to witness what she pretty much knew was coming.

"I can protect you, my son" Emily then promised, still looking at the baby with so much love in her eyes "As your mommy, I swear I won’t let anything ever hurt you".

"I think it’s time she goes back to bed, Honey" JJ tried to tell her, wanting to get her baby back into the hands of someone with a more present mind.

"I can’t" Emily replied, her eyes filling up with tears "I can’t have my baby taken from me again".

"Don’t you want us to have our baby back?" Will, who had come back downstairs by that time attempted to ask her.

As a response, however, Emily shook her head.

"No, he is mine!" she then exclaimed "I have to protect my baby!".

"Come on, she needs some rest" JJ told her, gently rubbing her back.

Suddenly, Emily’s brain felt like it could have exploded.

It was so full of heartbreak, confusion and despair.

The thoughts that had been racing through her mind for weeks pounded on the walls of her skull, desperate for an escape from the pain that brewed in her mind.

She just wanted something she could hold on to, something that she could have a second chance at, something that would stay alive.

"No, I can’t" Emily told her, tears streaming down her face by that time.

All the sternness in her voice had disappeared and there was nothing in her tone except pure defeat.

That was when JJ knew she wasn’t just talking about the baby.

She was talking about everything she had experienced since the day she had found out Isaac had passed away.

Everything that had swept her off her feet in the tornado of losing a child.

She couldn’t do it any more.

She couldn’t live with that missing piece in her life.

She couldn’t plaster on a smile and show up to work like she hadn't just lost the person she loved the most.

JJ was careful, removing her baby from Emily’s arms and quickly giving her to her husband, who took her upstairs to give the two women a moment alone.

"I can't do this" Emily sobbed, her figure collapsing entirely against her friend.

Her body heaved violently as everything that had been building up was let go.

The excruciating experience of losing her baby boy had broken her.

Maybe one day there would have been a way out of all the pain she was experiencing, but at that moment, everything around her seemed dark and the only good things were JJ's arms around her and the fact that in a way, she still had her baby boy in her life.

He was watching her from Heaven, loving on his mommy and praying for her to be able to find peace and the strenght to wait until they were meant to meet again.

[undefeatablesin]

OH! If you want can you tell us about your arcane hunter??? (I love arcane builds)

Ask Sin Stuff ✨️

Omg thank you for indulging me I would indeed love to talk about my arcane hunter actually 💅 I guess I'll start with the actual gameplay side of it because they were a total accident to be completely fair; at the beginning, I'd wanted to main the Blades of Mercy and focus on Skill, but found that a bit unfulfilling to play so I switched gears mid-run to invest mostly in Arcane instead with some Strength and Skill still thrown in for good measure. Rather unexpectedly for me who knows very little about builds and the like, they became an absolute powerhouse of a hunter and incredibly fun to run because of it 😂

Currently they main the Holy Moonlight Sword (with the BoM still equipped as their secondary since those have some Arc scaling anyway). They don't often need to use their Blunderbuss that much since HMS just destroys everything that breathes in its transformed state, but they have it anyway for parrying's sake! Their most often used Arcane tools are the Tiny Tonitrus, Augur of Ebrietas and A Call Beyond. As you can probably tell, we are most enthusiastic about the Tiny Tonitrus and its ability to just one shot annoying kin enemies from a distance 😂 Please enjoy some not so HQ images of my little menace ✨️How they got so bloody I dont remember, just that it felt metal af to walk around like that against the snowy white scenery of Cainhurst tbqh.

As for this hunter as a character, I kind of didn't have one in mind at first! This profile started as just a catalyst for a new playstyle initially. However, that has definitely since changed. They're still a relatively new and unpolished addition to my roster since the majority of my creative time is devoted to Ruza My Beloved, but I am pursuing an interesting??? Set of concepts for this hunter too lmao. This is probably not news to anyone who has been in the fandom longer than me, but I read recently about the blue eyed scourge beasts from UCW and was enlightened to the fact those were actually "ascendant" scourge beasts with kin-like qualities, such as being weak only to thrust damage; most likely created from members of the Choir who were steeped in the Arcane and rich with Insight by time the scourge got to them, hence they basically became a different strain of scourge beast. I also spied a reddit thread that proposed the idea of the abhorrent beast/suspicious beggar being able to freely control his transformations into his beastly self and that what primarily made this character unique was his complete acceptance of said self. A sort of Beastly Embrace, you might say? 🤭

So tl;dr, I am workshopping this character rn as an Arcane Beast hunter who can freely control their beast self and for that beast self to be modelled after the blue eyed kin-like scourge beasts. Perhaps a renegade member of the choir who turned against their faction? I haven't fully decided yet, but we will see 😤✨️ Oh, and their name (for rn anyway) is Aloysha.

[tryan-a-bex]

Welcome to Tryan’s meandering attempts at basic humanity.

Hello! Hi! I reblog mostly The Sandman (with a side of Fuckboi Dream), Dead Boy Detectives, Doctor Who, Star Trek, Good Omens (now a proud Asmi’s Maggot iykyk), Nimona, Simon Snow, Spy x Family and whatever the latest movie is, with a leavening of Weird Tumblr Shit because it is the hellsite. My sexy tag is #explicit rather than #nsft because it’s more about choosing what you see than about age. Curate your own experience. My side blog is @lucienne-my-beloved, featuring some of my favourite characters from The Sandman!

My blog name is a brilliant line from @cuubism’s Joy, used with permission. My profile pic is Razzle Dazzle Dragon by Doodle.

To find my favourite posts and my original work, search for my tag #tryana find it back. I write mostly short fluffy one-shots and I’ll let you know if it’s not that. It’s nicely sorted on ao3, but if you want to stay here I’ll put a link to the first in each series (Okay, I'm not staying up to date on posting these on tumblr and linking them in series. Please see ao3.)

100th fic!

My ao3

My NaNoWriMo fic! Wander Witch

Commissions Masterlist

Dreamling there was only one bed fic, my most popular one so far, it won the contest!!!

Lucienne my beloved gets her own series

Walking with the Walkers: the adventures of Rose and Jed

Social Media

Death has a Life

Dreamling vignettes

A Quiet Love with Wings (Gaulcienne)

The Sandman x Scooby Doo

The Sandman x Spy x Family

Destruction and Delirium

[carmillatism]

achilles, it's been like half a year since this poes and ur info and opinions may have changed since then but i just need to say that ur so fucking right. she's not an exactly easy character to talk about due to just how complicated she is. it doesn't entirely help that we have such little information about her (i am constantly scrounging around for more info).

i think i'll go through this maybe like point by point, but yeah, the morality switch is genuinely so fucked up i have no clue where the fuck it came from (irl). like, why would they just add that- but it is extremely interesting. the fact that carmilla found humor in the extremely fucked up events surrounding brian's backstory is... concerning to say the least (fighting off the urge to talk about how she's grown more apathetic over the years as she meets and looses more people and creates more mechanisms). it's said she thinks that the dichotomy between both sides (brian vs. the priest) is humorous as both think they're right which. girl, they shot him into the void, why is that funny?😭 also, the fact it's implied she does it on a whim, for frivolous reasons (finding it funny) is concerning if not somewhat indicative of an underlying problem. because why would u want to give someone that sort of limitation and total change in their humanity (on top of the already huge change of making them an almost robot)? i have speculated it was a way to control brian as he was probably the most useful to her in terms of him having his own medical expertise along with his mechanical prowess, and it could be a way to tampen down any rebellion that seemed all too common with any of the other mechanisms at the time (i.e. jonny). (side note, i believe the carmilla era included jonny, nastya, ashes, ivy, brian, and ts (mechanized/joining in that order).) um, but, either way, not something the most stable mother would do for her child which, yeah, not surprising when you look at other aspects of her story. there could also be parts with the morality switch of her wanting to have a relationship with someone that was much easier to control, for things to not go so wrong as they seemed to do in every other relationship she has (though, this is a lot more based on my own speculation).

also, shot, right, so most of carmilla's story doesn't seem to be clouded by an unreliable narrator. when we learn about her (at least for the examples you have given), it's usually from a perspective of a viewer simply taking in what we're seeing played out in front of us (as you mentioned), and even so, i have always thought that the crews short biographies had been written by ivy (as she is the archivist). biggest reason i think this is due to jonny's own description which has him talking directly to ivy. also, ivy's own biography seems to call directly from the memories she receives upon falling asleep, with her maybe having written them right after she woke up when they were still fading. most of the other crews' profiles seem to be written by themselves or by sources related to them (nastya's seems to be almost a new broadcast about herself). so if brian wrote his own backstory, i don't exactly see how his unreliable narration (and this assumes he has some in regards to carmilla which i can see but also... little bit of morality switch manipulation can do a whole lot) would take away much from the fact she installed a morality switch into him.

next of all: THANK YOU SO MUCH. SOMEONE FINALLY BROUGHT UP THE HOMESICK LIVE, MY BELOVED-BEHATED. that fucking live makes me insane but is also some lovely pointers to carmilla as a character. ur descriptions of it are really good and make a lot of sense. jonny is obviously scared of her and it's for a reason (even if he pushed her out of the airlock, it seems to be about something even more than that). along with nastya's extremely uncomfortable reaction to carmilla in lashings (along with just the general air or something wrong), there's definitely some sort of problem in their relationship. also, just the fact that jonny has pushed her out of an airlock for a short amount of time and is implied to have done the one that got her off the ship for a long while, it seems that there is some sort of reason that they are discontent with her. even if most of the lore we consume about her is unreliable (which i believe is doubtful), i think it can be understood that there is a reason for that unreliable narration in the first place.

also, taking people on their death beds and making them immortal with some weird fucking ethics and disregard to the autonomy does feel. weird, at the best.

also, i know. way too much about carmilla pre-mechs so let me just: from carmilla's album exhumed and {un}plugged we learn about carmilla's (at the very least) emotionally volatile relationship with a woman named loreli (that's implied to have made her a vampire (immortal-turning that doesn't seem to have the happiest ending: where have i heard that before?)). (also, yeah that's the spelling of her name; the lyrics on bandcamp spell it that which i think is kind of fun.) there's a lot of codependcy, allusions to toxic relationships, and even at times abuse that imply that their relationship was not good with carmilla taking the brunt of the bad things occurring. in the same album, the song homesick (ow ow ow) talks about how she went (or wants to) back to her home plane of terra to kill her father which i mean (there's also a bit of somewhat hidden yet uncovered lore that explicitly made him transphobic towards carmilla), and it speaks on similarly bad relationships with her sister and brother. her mother has been a point of contingency for my opinions on her relationship with carmilla though i have come to the conclusion that it was probably one of the better ones (as she shows extreme concern and sympathy for her), though there could be a strain from both of their endurance of her father's mistreatment. the line talking about her is at the very end of the songs (right after she says she's come to kill her father). it's repeated twice and is, "oh mother! what have they done to you?" and as a cynical person in nature i have personally interpreted it as something akin to feeling that her mother has become similarly bad to the rest of her family whilst carmilla was gone (though it can be seen in a more sympathetic way where carmilla is asking about how badly the rest of her family has hurt her). her family's a topic that's a bit iffy, specifically her mother since we have one songs about them with 4 verses so. take that as u will!

she also had rocket girl who seemed to be one of her first, if not her first, loves which was quite good at first until rocket girl is implied to have left without her. this just represents another relationship that ended badly in a long line of bad relationships.

i absolutely believe her history of unstable and abusive relationships could have skewed her own actions in future relationships, specifically with that of the mechanisms. i am also of the line of thinking that she doesn't usually intentionally hurt the mechanisms, they're her kids afterall. but never being given the time to understand relationships or even be given one for her to have in the first place absolutely could have led her to not knowing how to treat her kids when she made them (i mean making kids from dying humans that your turn immortal again doesn't feel like the most healthy coping mechanism for your history of bad relationships). i am absolutely of the belief that she wants to and tries to be a good mom but she fails spectacularly because she has no clue what she's doing. she's only ever truly known pain in relationships, and it's easiest to replicate what you know best.

um, so, the cycle of abuse used a literary theme throught the mechanisms makes me insane- anyway, i just think that she's just sooooo interesting, and i love how complex she is. she's so...

would like to make a quick disclaimer with all of this that this analyzation is in no way me implying that every abuse survivor is going to be or is an abuser. abuse victims go through so much fucking shit and then have to deal with the aftermath of what happened to them forever onwards and many people-- most people-- do that without ever replicating what happened to them. however, it doesn't mean that the cycle of abuse is rendered null and void either. it can happen, and it fucking sucks. as someone who has my own experiences and a lot of self-doubt about everything that has happened to me and my own thoughts, i find her storyline extremely fucking compelling and an interesting look into feelings i may experience or think. hers, of course, end up becoming actions, but a lot of survivors do have feelings that they'll become as bad as their abuser, or already are, so that is just something that does deeply concerns me and my experiences and that i take a lot of interest in analyzing. i just love that she's a character that exists that's just so. human (even though she isn't lmao). she really feels like a real life person taken from the world with just as many fucked up problems even as she tries her best to understand herself. i just think the mechanisms talk about shit people don't like to hear in a way that's respectable and understanding, and i feel carmilla really helps get both the concepts of the cycle of abuse and even mentalities gained after abuse that is so fucking interesting and well done.

anyway, mini-rant, inside of my long rant, over. i just don't want people to think i'm talking out of my ass and that like these aren't thoughts swirling around in my head every day (moreso the carmilla ones than the trauma ones). and don't fucking blame victims, and don't ever think that they are pre-dispositioned to hurt others. this idea simply understands that if someone hurt hurts others, they aren't excused for their actions but there is a long a complicated look you can take into why they do.

uh, anyway, hi, achilles. sorry for ranting about carmilla on ur 6 month old post.

(unedited. will be soon.)

Okay in regards to this poll I'm going to do some Doc Carmilla analysis because I don't like having back and forth conversations in tags. This is long, I couldn't really find a way to cut it down

The biggest thing that fucks me up about her is Brian's morality switch. The concept of a morality switch at all is horrifying to me, taking that control away from someone. Brian's about page on the mechanisms website says the reasoning was because Doctor Carmilla found it "amusing" which. Makes me hate it even more. @x-ca1iber pointed out the fact that Jonny is an unreliable narrator, which is a good point. However, I doubt Jonny wrote everyone's bio and I don't think either morality mode would really let Brian lie about it, lying is wrong and I can't come up with ends that would justify it. Brian could be wrong about reasoning, of course, but I'm not sure why he would be. Because a lot of that second half is speculation, *please* let me know if there's anything to agree or disagree with any of it.

The two other things that make me not willing to chalk all of anti-Doctor Carmilla sentiment up to unreliable narration and character misinterpretation are the end of this video and near the end of Lashings. The first video shows Jonny cut the music and, sounding somewhat frantic, ask Carmilla what she's going to do about being thrown out the airlock. When she doesn't respond, he backs away and accuses her of planning something. This is something that isn't attributable to unreliable narration because the premise there isn't that it's a retelling but an actual event occurring. Also, the way Jonny is on edge, expecting her to do something but not knowing what/when and having to just kind of act like it's fine really makes me read it as a bad relationship for him. The end of the Lashings performance shows Nastya stressed about various other things and Doctor Carmilla coming up behind her and hugging her. Nastya visibly tenses and remains as such for the entire interaction. I've seen people argue that this was due to the aforementioned various other things, and it could very much be that! This is definitely my least compelling piece of evidence. But it's worth noting that Doctor Carmilla doesn't back off from the hug and remains sort of in Nastya's face until Nastya steps away. The situation is either Nastya being generally uncomfortable with physical contact at that moment (or in general) and Carmilla not caring, or Nastya being distrustful of her in general. Either way doesn't reflect well on their relationship.

None of this is to say that I think she's trying to cause them harm. She does see them as her kids, in her own way. The only other close relationship she had that I'm aware of is Lorelai (please let me know if you have any more information on this! I'm always open to corrections) and that wasn't exactly healthy. She could very well not know any other way to treat them, and I really do think she meant well. The problem with meaning well is that is doesn't change the ramifications of your actions. The best of intentions don't change the fact that you hurt people. This is, in my opinion, especially prominent in parental figures, which she is.

That is all about her as a person, though. As a character? She's fantastic. Trans lesbian vampire scientist with dubious ethics? Great!!! And all of the things I just talked about that make me dislike her as a person make me love her as a character. That disparity is what makes it really hard to answer the poll I linked at the beginning, because holy fuck morality switch but I love her as a character

Tags that inspired this under the cut

[letarasstuff]

One kind of intern

(A/N): This was requested by @greenslifestuff :) It took me a week or two because I had to interact with my friends in order to get the inspiration I needed 😅 Summary: The team gets to work with a gen z teenager. Let’s see how that goes.

Warnings: Swearing and gen z humour

Wordcount: 2k

✨Masterlist✨

___________________________________

“Team, this is (Y/N) (L/N). She will be interning for the upcoming three months alongside this team. (Y/N), these are Agents Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, Derek Morgan and Doctor Spencer Reid and our Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia”, Hotch introduces a teenage girl to his team like this happens every day.

“Wait Hotch, we don’t get interns. What is she going to do, no offense, but getting us coffee or what?” Morgan eyes her suspiciously. She looks like any teenager grabbed from the street. A band t-shirt, a torn pair of jeans and a cup from starbucks in her hands. Nothing you would expect to even enter a federal building.

“No offence taken, Agent Morgan. I know having an ugly pickly bitch working with professionals seems weird. It’s just I have summer break and I thought it would be a good thing on my resumé if I already interned in the FBI, because I just graduated and I wanted to go to the academy this fall. But if you wanna do a vibe check with me first, that’s fine by me. Whatever floats your boat.”

The room falls silent. Then out of all sudden everyone turns to Garcia, who puts her arms up in defense. “I don’t even know half the things she said, ask her yourself.”

That’s how the BAU gets their first contact with Gen Z culture and let me tell you it is a wild ride, so buckle up your seats, drink your tea up because we aren’t going to make any stops.

“(Y/N), I need you to come with me. We are going to the M.E. getting the latest reports from our last case”, Morgan tells her while passing her desk. In the blink of an eye the teenager is ready, putting her denim jacket with various pins and bits of patches on.

“Derek, can we get starbucks on the way back? The pumpkin spiced latte is back on their menu and I am on withdrawal. Pleaaaaaasseeee”, she looks at him with a pouty face. Morgan smiles. “Ok, under one condition: We both get one, take awesome pictures and send them to the group chat and then we act like we didn’t get them anything, but we actually buy them their usual.” He got the hang of it pretty fast. “Deal, Sis.”

While they are in the car on their way to the M.E. the agent groans. “Ugh, road work ahead.” “Uh yeah, I sure hope it does!” Morgan eyes her from the side. His whole demeanor says ‘old and confused’.

“What was that, kid?” But (Y/N) begins to laugh. “Don’t you know vines? Short dumb and funny clips people made?” It’s safe to say that this afternoon he learns to speak in vines, getting on Rossi’s nerves because nothing makes sense anymore.

“Ok, I heard you wanted to become a profiler. So I thought I would show you some old cases and then you try to figure out the profile. I’ll present them to you like I do to the team, alright?” JJ and (Y/N) sit in her office, safe from curious eyes. “As right as the law, Ma’am.” 

“Good, this is a case from several years ago. It happened here in D.C. Three men were murdered execution style in the middle of the night in an alleyway. They were all from different backgrounds. The only connection between them was that they were evicted for some form of sexual harassment or assault. The UnSub also had a signature: A shot into their groin while the men were alive.”

Unfaced by the presented facts (Y/N) pops a piece of gum into her mouth. “It do be like that.”

“What?” “I mean, it’s obviously a woman. She experienced any harassment or assault herself. She also has excess to the files, I assume she works as a paralegal, since most of them are women. Female serial killers are extremely rare, but they are better organized. The only thing left to say is good for her getting revenge.” The blonde looks at the teenager with wide eyes.

“I-I guess but you know you can’t say anything like that to Hotch, do you?” She asks concerned. “JJ, I’m dead inside, not dumb. I know this.” But the agent shrugs. “Good. Though I really want to see his face.” “Mood.”

Penelope Garcia is the closest one to relate to Gen Z culture, since a great part of her time is spent on the internet. She happily learns about all the phrases and their meanings as well as the newest trends and hypes.

“Purp is sus, I tell you”, is heard from the lair into the hallway. Spencer and Derek look at each other with concern on their faces. “Do you think they are alright or do we have to-” “IT’S A SELF REPORT I SWEAR PENNY! YOU WORK WITH PROFILERS IN GANDALF’S NAME!” Spencer’s question is answered by that.

“Baby girl, crazy girl, are you doing good? Do you need help or something?” The older one asks warily. But it’s drowned in another screaming match. “I TOLD YOU PURP WAS THE IMPOSTER BUT YOU HAVE TO TELL THEM I VENTED WHEN I DIDN’T! I WANT ALL TIKTOKS I SENT YOU BACK!” “YOU DON’T DARE TO REVOKE MY TIKTOK PRIVILEGES!” “WATCH ME GARCIA!”

“Whoa girls, what about taking a break?” Morgan tries to diffuse the situation. “Yes, I think JJ got new pictures of Henry and Emily brought cookies this morning”, Spencer adds.

The girls, who mere seconds ago were ready to jump each other's throats, look at the other one. “You get the cookies and I go to JJ, deal?” (Y/N) asks. “Deal!” Without sparing the boys another glance they run out of the lair. Their devices are still lit up. A red figure shines into their faces. ‘AMONG US’ is written underneath it. “I think we get too old for this stuff, don’t we Reid?”

Spencer always thought he was young. Of course, his mind is older, but physically he is not that old. But the intern proves him wrong. And boy is he wrong.

“Spencer, is there anything interesting to know today?” (Y/N) takes a seat on his desk, distracting the genius from his paperwork. It is a common occurrence for her to go to him to ask for a fun fact.

“Do you wanna learn something about sloths?” His knowledge (or the writer’s) on this subject is astonishingly big.

“Spill the tea, sis.” “Did you kn- What? But I don’t have tea to spill. And I don’t wanna spill anything, I-” Reid rambles in confusion.

“It’s just a saying, Spencer. There is no deeper meaning to it then ‘Tell me everything about it’. You know, it’s mostly used for gossiping, but I don’t really like to gossip. That’s why I use it in a different context. You got it?” (Y/N) explains it to him in a soft manner, knowing her generation can be complex.

“Yeah, I think I do. Thank you for telling me. I really like the phrase. It has a nice ring. What about you spill the tea about all the phrases you know and I tell you some things from my knowledge?” “I think you got yourself a teacher, genius. But now tell me about the sloths, I love them.”

A few days later Rossi catches her doing some weird moves. “Are you having a seizure or what is your problem, youngster?” Even though he tries not to show it, David took a great liking to (Y/N), thinking of her like a granddaughter. Still, most of her actions confuse the hell out of him.

“I’m practising a dance for tiktok. My friends and I worked on a choreo we wanted to film later. Come here, I can show you.” And that’s what she does in the conference room. The teenager walks him through every move of the choreo, explaining the meaning to it and how it correlates with the song.

“And then you move your arm like that. Exactly like that! You did a great job, David! Are you sure you don’t want to come with me later? We can make you your own account and name it ‘Grandpa-on-tiktok’. You can promote your books over there and it’s a way to float with the trend!”

Seeing her this excited Rossi can’t do anything but agree to the idea. Also, he secretly liked doing the dance thing. It made him feel young again.

“(Y/N), you said you graduated this summer. But your file said you are 16?” Emily asks her one boring day filled with paperwork and countless cups of coffee. “It is what it is”, she mindlessly answers, too focused on filling out the work in front of her.

“I mean yes but how?”

“Emily, smart people exist. I know, coming from me hits different, but here we are.” Finally (Y/N) puts her pen away looking at the raven haired woman.

“What are you talking about? I can’t really follow you.” The more the intern says the more confused gets Emily.

She sighs. “I don’t want to leave you on read here. I kind of am smart somehow. Apparently I was smart enough to skip a grade or two. But it’s no biggie. Many peeps do this, so I don’t sweat it.”

“Even though I feel like you are selling yourself short here, I know you are an incredibly intelligent person. Someday you will be an awesome profiler and any team will be lucky to have you. I really hope we will be the lucky team. But I’m still not sure if this is what I should say in this context.”

“Emily, you are goals. This fam is squad goals. I really hope to be a part of this someday”, (Y/N) admits. “I’m sure Hotch will do his best to get you on the team, you became a great part of it. I can’t imagine a future without you.”

Sadly Prentiss has to get used to a time without the team’s beloved intern. On her last day (Y/N) knocks at Hotch’s door.

“Hey, I wanted to say thank you. The time with you and all the others was amazing and I learned so many useful things for not only the academy but also for my daily life. I really had a glow-up here”, she says after coming in.

Hotch motions towards the chairs in front of his desk. “Take a seat, (Y/N). I got something for you. See it as a compensation for not getting paid for your internship. You really did great work and a better job than some agents, who are doing theirs for many years already but don’t know half the stuff you do. You are a valuable member to the team.”

“Wait, you speak in presence tense. I leave you all this afternoon, you know that, do you?” But the Unit Chief only gestures to a white envelope on his desk. Quickly the teenager takes it and reads it.

“Are you serious Hotchner? Because I will cry you a river if you joke”, she threatens him.

“I’m dead serious, (Y/N). Even though half of your talks are difficult to understand, the other half is twice as useful and important. Additionally to that, you are like a fresh breath of air that the team needed. That’s why a place here will be available for you as soon as you graduate from the academy. I trust you that you will pass with flying colors, I had to promise that to Strauss.”

“Of course, Hotch. I swear on my Animal Crossing Island that I will do my best and more. Thank you so much”, she leaps into his arms.

The others watch the interaction from the bullpen, pretending to not get teary eyed. Their favorite Gen Z Kid will come back to them after all.

Taglist:

Spencer Reid

@calm-and-doctor

[starshipsofstarlord]

Posted

Pairing | Tom Holland x reader

Summary | whilst sharing an intimate moment with Tom, he voices that he wants to take a photo to commemorate being together again. But accidents happen, and it is not uncommon for his fingers to slip.

Warnings | ass grabbing, accidents happen I guess, clumsy Tom, suggestive statement

Requested ☑️

Quick link to my masterlist, in case you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Lips wandered up the expanse of your neck, lightly trailing up the ladder of skin. Tom was beneath you on the sofa, sat in a relaxed disarray. Admittedly, it was nice seeing him so calm, with no worries from his demanding job. And not to mention, you had him all to yourself.

That, was the best part. No cameras were capturing every angle of the beautiful man, not that you blamed them at all for doing so, however, the advantage of the privacy that you had vaguely gained, had become a newfound and favourite treasure.

He was at home, and with that prospect came the best version of himself. The one that would take Tessa for long and enduring walks; the one that could be careless to the promoting that his family have him; and best of all, the one whom would allow his hands to slip a little further down on you =r backside than he would usually allow himself.

“I love your ass.” Tom nonchalantly admitted, giving a beloved squeeze to said part of your body. “I think it may be the thing I miss most about you when I’m gone.” His admittance earned himself a playful, yet loving, swat by your undermining hand.

But despite his gentle punishment, he still resisted against your faltering will, his palms finding claim once more on your low cheeks. A grin, exhibiting an accordance upon his pleased expression. He pursued a tightness behind his sterile grip, imprinting the firmness of his engorging fingertips into your plump flesh.

“Should i be offended that all you seem to miss is this ass?” A light laugh tore through the wall of your teeth, as your hands tenderly padded at his covered shoulders. With fond and eyes of pure love, Tom made mutual eye contact, reaching one of his hands up to plant upon the outdent of your cheek.

“I wouldn’t say that was all.” Tom drew his words out, allowing his sweet and talented fingers to drift towards the corner and your mouth, hinting at its forbidden talents. Squinting lovingly at him, you darted your tongue out to swipe at the pad of his finger, causing him to retract them.

“You’re so romantic.” The sarcasm was tense, as you watched Tom swerve his gaze around you face turned siyour waist, and land on your jean clad bottom. At his insinuation to do so, you could only roll your eyes at his unsurprising and boyish behaviour. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

With no hesitancy, Tom reached into his pocket, gripping his phone, and scrolling on its well used screen. “You told me to.” Was his mechanism of defence, and with one hand, he aimed the front lens of the camera as far as way as his arm could reach, whilst his other remained squeezing the fat of your behind.

At his behaviour, you could barely hold in a smile, as your head sideways, giving a profile to the image that he was intent of capturing. He took a few, to which he stated to be ‘perfect’. But all of a sudden, as he was mindlessly scrolling, and giving a teasing pinch to your ass, his face fell.

Tom was always one for spoilers, and this circumstance was not indifferent. The feed of your shared presence and comfort in one another had been accidentally set as a post upon his Instagram account, causing him dread. He had meant for another picture to take its public space, and his heart rate picked up as he saw likes begin to flow through on his notifications.

It was supposed to be a picture in regards to his movie, promoting its release date. And instead, what had been delivered as online content was the well focused image of his hand clasping your ass, and both of your faces in the viewpoint. The pair of you were screwed, your agents would have a field day with trying to come up with a solution to your privacy.

“What did you do?” At that question, he gulped, and froze as you took the phone out of his hand, scouring the screen with your adept eyes. And what you were met with, was the profile that he had taken of the pair of you, posted publicly onto the popular app. “Tom!”

“I didn’t mean to!” He urged, there being no argument between the pair of you, instead, it was simply him trying to defend his accidental actions. “I’ll take it down.”

“Approximately five hundred and - oh, now thirty people have liked this already. We’re screwed, they’ll have already screen shotted it. Our cover is officially blown.” You put the phone down on the side of the sofa, rubbing your temples efficiently at the thought.

The pair of you had handled your privacy so well, until now. The entire lid off your operation was gone, leaving all for the fans to devour. “I don’t want to even look at the comments.”

“Hey.” Tom softly spoke, his hands fleeing your ass and coming to tilt your face in his direction. “Maybe it’s not so bad, we’ve been playing this game for a while now. And whilst the secrecy is exciting, I want to take you to premiers and no one gasp in surprise, and walk down the street hand in hand with you. At least now we don’t have to hide what we have together.”

“Thomas Stanley Holland.” You addressed him using his full name, bringing your palms to rub sweetly on his chest. “Now tell me, were you not opposed the idea of being careless and letting that finger of yours slip so that the whole world knows about us?”

“I used my thumb actually.” He corrected you, leaning up to press a living chaste kiss upon your inviting lips. “And it was an accident, but I’ve thought about coming out about our relationship for a while now. The things I’d do to have you on my arm as we walk down the carpet; we wouldn’t have to seem like strangers any longer.”

“Well, we aren’t strangers my love.” Swirling a curl around your finger, that hung down from his head and onto his face, you smiled at how soft his locks were. “And because of your little mistake, we don’t have to act outside of sets anymore.”

A part of you was relieved, to know that now, the entirety of both of your worlds would be aware of the connection that was present between the pair of you. Another was in fear of how the fans would react to their beloved Spider-Man actor being off the market. However, you couldn’t help to love Tom, and his nimble fingers, that had found home on your ass once more.

[babymetaldoll]

I love you (and I don't want to) (Spencer Reid/Reader)

Requested: Yes

Summary: After three years in love with Spencer, (Y/N) decides it's time to move on.  He will never love her anyway, right?  

Category: Angst/Fluffy ending

Word count: 4,2K

Warnings: Cursing, but you love me anyway 💜

Masterlist

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It had been three years of her life. Three whole years she had been in love with Spencer Reid. But (Y/N) couldn't deal with those feelings anymore. She didn't want to continue torturing herself, waiting for him. Why? 'cos for him, (Y/N) was just his friend, his very best friend. But nothing more. And she wanted more. She wanted everything with him, and after three years, she knew she wasn't going to get it.

(Y/N) had hinted to Spencer in every possible way that she was in love with him, but he hadn't acted on it. She actually felt pathetic. (Y/N) thought she couldn't be any more obvious about her feelings. The only thing she hadn't done was kissing Reid. And she wasn't going to because it was clear all she was going to get was rejection.

That's why, after three years postponing her own life, waiting around to see if Spencer might actually see her as a woman and not as a friend, she was done. She had to move on from him, even if it was the hardest thing she had ever done.

But working with Spencer didn't make it easier. There he was, every morning, smiling at her from his desk. Asking her how she had spent the night, what she had done. Even inviting her over to his apartment for a movie night. Which with Spencer actually meant watching movies and nothing else. Nothing. Not even holding hands.

In three years, the most physical (Y/N) had even been with Spencer had been the day she got shot in a leg, and he hugged her when she rejoined the team after her leave.

One hug in three years. That was it. Spencer was way more physical with Morgan, or with anyone else, as a matter of fact. That's why it was time to let him go. (Y/N) knew she wasn't going to find another man like him, though maybe that was the idea.

She loved him so much it hurt, and she needed to get rid of that pain.

(Y/N) knew she could get a man's attention if she wanted to. That's why it was so frustrating not being able to get Spencer's. Decided to get him out of his mind, (Y/N) dragged Emily and García for a "Lady's night." And by the end of the evening, she had given her number to three different guys. Neither of them was Spencer Reid, but at least (Y/N) felt her ego boost from getting their attention.

.

- "(Y/N)! I still can't get over how hot that guy was!! did he call you already?"- Penelope walked through the bullpen straight to (Y/N) 's desk, ignoring everybody but her friend. (Y/N) bit her lips and closed her eyes for a second, embarrassed her friend had literally yelled to the whole FBI they had met a cute guy the night before.

- "What? Who?"- Derek Morgan nearly jumped and rubbed his hands together, excited to hear the story, and walked with Garcia to (Y/N) 's desk.

Spencer raised his eyes from the file he was reading and scanned (Y/N) 's face. She was blushed, obviously nervous, and biting her lips as she smiled. What? Was she excited? Happy? Annoyed? and who was Garcia talking about? what guy? (Y/N) wasn't dating anyone. He would know. He knew everything she did. Not that he was a stalker or anything, but he listened each time she talked, and she usually told him everything she did.

Did she? Maybe not anymore. Spencer realized he needed to know what Garcia was talking about, so he pretended to be working but paid all of his attention to that conversation.

- "Thank you, Penelope"- (Y/N) huffed and shook her head- "I don't think Anderson heard you, by the way."

- "I heard her!"- Anderson raised his hand and waved- "Hot guy, she can't get over him"

- "Thank you!"- (Y/N) smiled at Anderson and covered her face with both hands.

- "Oh, come on! Don't be shy. You are not shy. And last night's (Y/N) wasn't shy either!"- Penelope tapped on (Y/N) 's back, as she grabbed the closest chair and moved it to her desk- "So, did he call?"

- "Who are you guys talking about?"- Morgan asked, crossing his arms on his chest, staring at the two women- "What did you do last night?"

- "Turns out this lady right here is the best party girl I've ever met, and in all these years, she had never shown this side of her! Ever!"- Penelope was clearly under the effect of three cups of coffee.

- "What did she do?"

- "Oh my beloved Morgan, you should have seen her!"- Garcia started explaining, and Spencer realized his stomach, as well as his fists, were tightening.

- "Please, don't!"- (Y/N) begged, but it was useless.

- "She was a lioness in the wild, and the hottest guys in the club were her prey. She danced with only the most attractive men in the whole place. And she flirted, and laughed, enchanted them all. Guys were asking for her phone number the whole time we were in that club. I swear I had never seen anything like it before."

- "What?! this pretty lady right here?"- Morgan pointed at (Y/N), who was still covering her face with both hands- "She always refuses to go out clubbing with me."

- "Well, clearly she was hiding her wild side"- Garcia sentenced and nodded at her own words- "So, did he call already?"

- "No. He hasn't"

- "Who?"- Prentiss asked, joining the conversation- "Bachelor number three? Please tell me you are gonna marry that man. It would be a crime not to."

The fact even Prentiss was drooling over that unknown guy hit Spencer harder. He knew (Y/N) was gorgeous and that she could get any guy's attention if she wanted to. But in the last three years, she had ignored every man who had flirted with her. Why the sudden change?

Spencer knew he couldn't ask (Y/N) not to flirt or go out with anyone, just 'cos he loved her in silence. Reid wished he could tell her how he felt, but he knew it was impossible for her to love him. She always took special care of him. She was always there when no one else was. But Spencer considered it as a gesture of friendship, not of love. He was so blind, he had wasted three years of happiness by her side, only because he was sure someone like her could never want someone like him.

Lucky for Spencer (or unlucky in a way), he didn't have to listen to that conversation for much longer. Hotch asked the team for the reports of the last three cases they had worked on, which meant they had a busy day ahead, and the bullpen was silent for most of the day.

Until (Y/N) 's phone hummed around noon, and Prentiss jumped from her desk.

- "Is it him?! is he?"- (Y/N) looked at Emily in shock- "What?"

- "You are acting like a schoolgirl. Put your shit together."

- "Shut up and let me live my life through you for a second! is that him?"- (Y/N) grabbed her phone and nodded. Spencer looked at her friend and held his breath. What was happening? Why was she clubbing and meeting guys all of a sudden?

- "I can't stop thinking about you. I hope you are having a great day. Wanna have dinner with me tonight?"- (Y/N) read out loud and bit her lips.

- "Please say yes and ask him for a picture."

- "Garcia already found pictures of him online"- (Y/N) announced Emily and showed her the mail she had gotten from their friend- "She checked his whole life. And he wasn't lying. The guy is a pediatrician, he is single, never been in jail, gives lots of money to charity...."

- "And he is so hot, Ryan Reynolds would be jealous of him. Seriously (Y/N), please date him. You deserve to be happy, and that guy is screaming, "I could make you happy."

Emily had never been the kind of woman to say those things out loud in the bullpen, during work, knowing anyone might hear her. But that was precisely what she wanted.

She knew Spencer was paying attention. And she wanted him to listen to what was going on because it might be the only way to make him see he had to tell (Y/N) what he really felt for her before it was too late.

Prentiss knew Spencer was in love with (Y/N), though he had denied it every time she had confronted him about his feelings. But you can't hide those things from profilers. Less from profilers who are also your best friends.

Emily knew (Y/N) loved him too, and it was nerve-wracking watching them waste their time and neither of them doing anything to be together.

Maybe the fact (Y/N) was getting someone else's attention would make Spencer react. If not, well, maybe (Y/N) would get a chance to be happy with the club's hot guy.

.

The hot guy from the bar had a name. It was Benjamin, and he took (Y/N) our for dinner that night. He had been lovely and charming, just like he had been when they met at the club. So sweet and charming, in fact, (Y/N) felt he might be the one who could take Spencer from her heart. That's why, when he asked her out again later that week, she accepted.

- "Oh my god!"- JJ walked to (Y/N) in shock- "Who sent you these?"- there was a gigantic bouquet of red roses on (Y/N) 's desk, and the owner was staring at them, absolutely blushed. In three years, no one had sent her flowers. It was impossible not to feel special.

- "Benjamin"- (Y/N) whispered and opened the card that came with the roses- "He asked me out, again."

- "You know, red roses are the most common flower to give to a woman."- Spencer had made his best to stay out of that conversation and every conversation related to Benjamin in the last week and a half. But he couldn't do it anymore.

He was done.

- "Worldwide, everybody gives red roses to say "I love you," turning a beautiful flower into a sad and empty cliché."- Spencer stood up from his desk and walked over (Y/N) and JJ, staring at the bouquet.

- "Sad and empty?"- (Y/N) stood up and crossed her arms on her chest, defensive- "Why would you say that?"

- "When everybody does it, the gesture might turn into something meaningless. A banality."

JJ looked at Spencer and at (Y/N). Since Benjamin was in the picture, it was clear their friendship was in trouble. Reid was more distant and (Y/N) was focused on her date. You didn't need to be a profiler to see what was going on, and JJ knew the wise thing to do was to take a step back and leave the two of them to fix their problems on their own.

Something JJ knew was never going to happen, 'cos Reid would be passive-aggressive and (Y/N) would get annoyed and leave.

- "Why are you so bitter today, Spencer? It's just flowers?"- (Y/N) asked him and raised an eyebrow. Reid mimicked her movement and crossed his arms on his chest as well.

- "I'm not bitter, (Y/N). I'm just telling you this gesture of love that's melting your heart is nothing but a cheap way to get under your skirt."

Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ wide opened their eyes at Spencer's words. But (Y/N) didn't even flinch.

- "And since when do you care if someone is trying to get under my skirt?"- she asked, staring into Reid's eyes.

- "I don't."

- "Then why are you telling me this?"

- "I just thought you were smarter than this. I guess I was wrong."

You could feel the tension growing between them. And the sparks coming from (Y/N) 's eyes that were filled with anger.

Spencer regretted every word that had left his lips ever since he stood up, but he couldn't take them back. What was done was done. And so, he could feel (Y/N) 's friendship and love slipping through his fingers with every word he said.

.

Later that night, Spencer couldn't sleep. It wasn't late, but he hadn't had a proper rest for weeks. Since he first heard (Y/N) was out clubbing with her friends, actually. And now that she was dating someone else, there was no way Spencer could close his eyes.

He felt awful after what he had told her, and he kept trying to come up with an idea to apologize to her. In three years, they had never fought before. Well, he had never been so jealous of anyone getting her attention in the last three years.

He couldn't shake the thought of her being on a date with Ben at that very same minute. They were together. She was laughing. And that would be enough for that guy to fall in love with her. How couldn't he? (Y/N) was perfect. Spencer knew it.

Reid paced like a lion in his apartment. He sipped his third cup of herbal tea, trying to follow (Y/N) 's advice to reduce caffeine at night in a useless effort to sleep better. But he knew coffee wasn't the reason he wasn't going to get any sleep that night. It was (Y/N). (Y/N) and all the feelings he had for her.

Why couldn't he just tell her he loved her? Why did he have to hold those feelings back for so long? Was it too late to tell her? Of course, it was! and even if (Y/N) wasn't in love with Ben, that didn't mean she'd ever love Reid. They were friends, and that was it.

The hum of his cellphone took Spencer from his thoughts. Somehow reading "we've got a case" on the screen made him feel better. At least now he had something else to think about. Reid could focus on saving lives instead of his own misery.

The case could be solved. His personal life couldn't.

Work was where Spencer could hide. It was his escape from his own problems, from his head, and his tendency to overthink everything.

Work was his refugee, his temple. A place he could even call home.

And that's why he lost it when he saw (Y/N) holding some guy's hand in the hall outside the elevator, in the BAU.

- "What are you doing?"- Reid wasn't even subtle at that point. He ignored Penelope, Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ. Needless to say, he also ignored that random man he knew was Benjamin.

- "Hi Spencer"- (Y/N) cut him a short smile and tried to act normal, but she knew it wasn't going to happen.

- "We've got a case."

- "Hi! Nice to meet you. I'm Benjamin"- Ben tried to shake Reid's hand, but Spencer didn't just ignore him. The glance he gave him was so cold and annoyed, (Y/N) was embarrassed already.

- "Don't mean to be rude, but what the fuck are you doing here? Do you think you can come and visit the FBI whenever you want to?"

The whole team was silent. Spencer's words resonated through the empty halls. (Y/N) felt her heart stop and her cheeks turning red with embarrassment and anger.

- "I'm sorry,"- Ben whispered and cleared his throat- "I should go."

- "No, please."- (Y/N) held his hand tighter and turned to him, knowing Spencer was staring at every move she made.

- "You have to work. I just came to drop you off. Take care, ok?"- Ben said, smiling. (Y/N) nodded and slowly leaned in and kissed him.

Spencer's heart dropped. That was it. He couldn't deal with that anymore. Reid turned around and rushed out the hall.

What had he done? What had she done? That was it. He was screwed.

- "Spence?"- JJ found him hidden in the conference room, sitting at a chair, his head resting on the table, covered with both hands.

- "What?"- he whispered, but didn't move- "I know, I know"- he added before JJ would say anything- "I ruined it all."

- "Why don't you just tell her what you feel?"- she asked her and sat by his side. But Spencer still didn't move.

- "What for?"

- "For starters, to apologize for being a dick today."

- "It's useless, JJ."

- "Why?"- Reid sighed and turned slowly to look at his friend. JJ smiled at him kindly and shook her head- "It's not useless, Spence. She loves you."

- "She loves me as a friend."

- "No, she is in love with you. The only reason she is dating Ben is that she needs to get over you 'cos she is sure you don't love her."

Spencer looked at JJ in silence, trying to put those ideas together. But they made no sense.

- "There's no way (Y/N) loves me."

- "She does. She has been in love with you for the last three years, Spence. And if I were you, I'd apologize to her, and I'd tell her the truth."

- "She really loves me?"- Spencer whispered, and JJ nodded- "Why didn't you tell me before?"

- "I tried to tell you a million times before, you wouldn't believe me! now try to find a way to fix this before you lose her!"

Reid stood up and ran his fingers through his hair. JJ was right; he had to fix everything. He had to win (Y/N) 's love back.

But Hotch and the rest of the team walked into the conference room that minute, including (Y/N). And his plans were forced to be paused until that serial killer was caught.

That was a miserable case. Not only because the unsub was killing lonely older women, and no one noticed most of the victims because no one would visit them. Which made the trail of murders was nearly untraceable. But because Spencer and (Y/N) weren't even looking at each other during the whole time they were investigating, and to call it "awkward" was being subtle.

It was hell for both of them.

Being in the jet was torture, 'cos there was nowhere to hide from each other. When Hotch asked them to go to the last crime scene together was the worst. (Y/N) had to ask Emily to go instead 'cos she knew she couldn't deal with Spencer at that minute.

And all that time, all Reid could think about was that kiss. The image of (Y/N) kissing Ben in front of him, and the words JJ had said. That (Y/N) loved him, and that was the reason why she was doing all that.

Solving that case was more complex than he expected because he couldn't put his mind to it. All he could think of was (Y/N).

On the jet back to Quantico, Spencer sat in front of her, decided to talk to her. But she stood up and left in a second, not giving him the chance to open his mouth. JJ stared at him and cut him a short smile, trying to encourage him not to lose faith. Spencer knew (Y/N) was mad at him, and she would act her worst when she was upset. But this time, he knew he had fucked it up. There was no other way to explain it.

Saying "Sorry" wouldn't do it. Spencer would have to do better.

But how?

.

(Y/N) reached her house and closed the door behind her back, still making her best not to cry. She had held those tears back for two days now since she had fought with Spencer, and she refused to weep over him anymore. It was a waste of tears.

Spencer Reid was an asshole, that was all.

All there was left to do was to forget about him. Maybe (Y/N) could text Benjamin, tell him she was already back in town, though she really didn't want to. (Y/N) wanted that night for herself, ask for pizza, watch a movie, do nothing. Maybe take a long bath. She could deal with reality in the morning. But right now, she wanted that night for herself.

Of course, she wasn't going to get it. The knocking on her door ruined her plans before she could actually ask for her pizza.

Spencer Reid was holding his breath at the other side of the door and making his best effort not to faint. That's how nervous he was. (Y/N) looked at him in shock, and for a few seconds, she forgot how mad she was with him because the way he was looking at her was heart-melting.

- "I'm sorry,"- Spencer whispered and gave her a gigantic bunch of flowers- "(Y/N), I am so sorry I was an asshole with you."

- "I don't want your flowers."- she refused to take them and took a step back into her apartment. But Spencer followed her.

- "(Y/N), I..."

- "No, you hurt me. You insulted me. You humiliated me and..."

- "And I love you"- Spencer confessed- "I love you, and I have been an insensitive asshole with you. I know you won't forgive me, but I had to try."

(Y/N) stared at him in shock. She didn't move. She didn't even blink. Spencer stared at her in silence, closing the door behind his back. At least they were now inside her apartment, and she wasn't kicking him out. He thought that was a good sign.

- "What are you talking about, Spencer?"

- "I love you. I am in love with you (Y/N). I have been in love with you for the last three years, and I kept telling myself it was useless to feel this way for you 'cos you would ever even look at me that way. But now that you've got that guy, I've realized worse than losing you for telling you my feelings is losing you over some douchebag for not telling you how I feel."

Spencer was rambling too fast, and (Y/N) was not getting what was going on.

- "So you decided to come here and tell me how you feel so I would forgive you?"- (Y/N) asked him, still mad- "'Cos telling me you love me doesn't make me feel any better, Spencer. If anything, it's making me even madder at you! What the fuck is your problem?!"- (Y/N) turned around and walked to her living room, not really knowing what to do.

- "What?"- Spencer asked, confused, following her around.

- "I've been fucking in love with you for years! and you waited till now to tell me how you feel?"

- "I never thought you'd like me!"

- "I don't like you! I fucking love you, Spencer!"

- "I love you too (Y/N)!"

There was a deep silence in the room. (Y/N) and Spencer stared at each other, neither of them knowing what to do. They were in love. Literally, madly in love.

- "I love you, (Y/N)"- Spencer repeated and took a step closer to her.

- "I know, I heard you"- she whispered, confused. She was so upset and so happy at the same time. She had no idea what she was doing.

Reid didn't know what to do either, how to act, or how to fix things. The only thing he could think of doing was simple: to kiss her. Reid took another step closer to her, and she didn't move away. So he wrapped an arm around her waist and held her tight.

- "I love you, (Y/N)"- he repeated for the third time and kissed her with such passion, yet love, (Y/N) 's knees nearly betrayed her. Her head was spinning. Her body was shaking. She was in love, and the man of her dreams was finally kissing her.

Spencer was finally touching her, holding her, kissing her. After three years.

- "You said roses were sad and empty,"- (Y/N) whispered and looked at the bouquet Reid was still holding.

- "I said a lot of things I regret,"- he whispered and kissed her again. This time, less urgently and more sweetly, savoring her little by little- "And these are special flowers."

- "Care to explain?"- (Y/N) murmured and sighed. Spencer nodded and handed her the flowers again, smiling childishly.

- "Purple roses are not nearly as common as red or white roses are. And that's why they indicate a fascination and adoration."- of course, Spencer Reid had a real explanation for picking those flowers.

- "Purple roses are associated with royalty, and they were often given to queens. That's why it's the only flower I could give to you. You are my queen. You have always been, and I've been a stupid blind man not to see it before."

(Y/N) bit her lips and stared at him, not knowing what to say. Spencer sheepishly smiled at her and leaned in to kiss her. But she stopped him.

- "You were an asshole."

- "I know, I'm sorry"- he whispered, honestly sorry- "I'll live the rest of my life making sure you'll forgive me."

- "You won't get tired of me?"

- "Never"- he whispered and leaned over her- "I've been in love with you forever, and I wanna spend the rest of my life with you."

- "Sounds like a lot of time, Spencer."

- "We've waited three years already (Y/N). I'm not wasting any more time."- Spencer Walter Reid held (Y/N) and kissed her. He knew he had wasted three years, but he was willing to do anything and everything he could to make it up for her. All he wanted now was to make her happy every day.

**** 

Taglist

@all-tings-diego​ @calm-and-doctor​

[melis-writes]

Moth to Flame [Michael Corleone x Reader series, 18+ Smut] Excerpt Edition!

Read on AO3 / Chapter Masterlist. / Fic Playlist.

[AUTHOR’S NOTE]: Happy Valentine's Day 2022, everyone!! 🤗 To all of my beloved followers and mutuals, I hope you have an incredible day! As a special treat, I'm releasing all of the excerpts/rough draft snippets I've had for our fan favourite "Moth to Flame!" ❤ As you all know, I'm working on a Bobby Axel (The Panic in Needle Park) x Reader multichapter fic at the moment, but once you go to "Moth to Flame", your heart is kind of ensnared there forever! 😅🙏🏻 These pieces did not make the final cuts of chapters, whether I didn't like the content, thought it was unnecessary, or came up with something better. Still, I'd love to share it with you guys for those wanting a sneak peek of the rough drafts as I was still writing the fic! 🥰

[WHAT'S MENTIONED IN THE SNIPPETS?]:

1️⃣ - Some mentions of Alphonse Ricci.

2️⃣ - Our favourite gal (😂) Rita Duvall formally meeting Victoria which never happened in the fic.

3️⃣ - A brief conversation Michael has with Victoria about Don Ferrari.

4️⃣ - A descriptive piece from the chapter "Aphrodisiac" 👀.

5️⃣❗ - SPECIAL: A MAJOR plot-twist and backstory of Victoria and Alphonse Ricci that may or may not be able to heavily impact her marriage with Michael I completely scrapped!

1949. Your name is Victoria Ferrari, and you’re the only daughter of one of the most powerful mafia families in New York—the Ferrari’s. When the Ferrari family began to gain heavy influence and power, it struck a power imbalance with the Corleone’s. To bind the families together as one in an offering of peace, friendship and business, you are to be married to their youngest son, Michael Corleone. As you ensnare yourself in the life of a mob wife by Michael’s side, what you don’t know is his old ties with Kay Adams, your best friend from Dartmouth, and that he returned from Sicily a widower. A ruthless mob boss to be, you unravel Michael’s dark past and the brutality that has changed his personality. You find yourself adapting to your new life, betrayed by those you love most, and in high profile to Ferrari and Corleone family enemies. Falling deeply in love with Michael, you enter a life and marriage filled with secrets and darkness. Bearing his children, supporting his crime empire and following him into the shadows, you’re unable to deny your passion and desire to the new Don. When it comes to Michael Corleone, you are but a moth to a flame.

[ Excerpt 1 ]

Hunted down like animals one by one, Michael Corleone had tracked down each and every one of Don Alphonse Ricci’s men that had been at Antonio Ricci’s trial, adding their bodies to the streets with that of the hired photographer and chauffeur. Two shots to the head, Corleone-style corpses, sending out a clear message to the increasingly weak Don struggling to maintain legitimacy and power in front of the other families.

Don Alphonse had been growing frustrated with each and every failure his men had caused him. Having influence over street hoodlums and petty criminals looking to make quick money rather than solid, mafia-style commitments like his father had hold over decades ago.

One fuck up away from becoming nothing but a whisper in the wind, Don Ricci still clung onto the idea of using words before force, simply because you were involved. Desperate in a way to maintain his criminal enterprises and presence, if he was just able to avenge his father’s long time business partner, Virgil Sollozzo, he could have his foot in the door to the narcotics trade, taking the Corleone’s out of the equation while maintaining a hold over the Ferrari’s.

Seeing it as an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, Don Alphonse Ricci’s plan to rise back to the old glory of his family seemed feasible and straightforward to get to, as long as he could provoke Michael Corleone in a way that would catch his attention, and not result in him immediately being found and killed.

Getting to you was a perfect way. He could secure a Ferrari wife, have a hold over Michael’s unborn children, and rise to the notoriety that the six families never would have seen coming. One specific rule remains unchanged—not to hurt you. Wanting you alive and unharmed, Alphonse knows he’d be a dead man if he tried to arrange a meeting with Michael Corleone at this point. But a Ferrari daughter unengaged in mafia business would be the perfect pinpoint for a hefty ultimatum to be made.

Failing to even get a decent photograph of you by the villa, Alphonse’s men were able to tell him exactly what he was hoping to hear—your visible pregnancy. His bodyguard had delivered the news just as his men went missing, gesturing to his face and explaining the bruising over your cheek.

Refusing to believe Michael would have done it to you, Alphonse’s righthand man uses Carlo Rizzi’s broken nose and badly gashed injuries as an example of Michael’s strength, having heard Carlo complain and profess it loudly in a bar with a prostitute the other night.

Don Ricci’s plan was settled once again. He wouldn’t have you remain a widow for long after Michael’s assassination, believing your father would have no choice but give your hand to him and a slice of the narcotics profit.

“She’s a Sicilian beauty, alright. That damned Michael Corleone has it all. The support of both families, the legitimacy, the men on his payroll. We won’t be able to pull a crumb of his attention without getting to his wife first.”

[ Excerpt 2 ]

“Victoria, look whose been trying to find you all evening!” You hear Sandra’s voice ring in from behind.

You turn around with a small, delighted gasp to find her escorting an esteemed guest and colleague of yours from Dartmouth—Tillie Matilda. Tillie had graduated from Dartmouth in 1941 alongside you and Kay with a business degree, and as Kay went off to become a schoolteacher, Tillie and you only grew closer as the two of you pursued graduate degrees together.

In law while she chose to do a master’s degree, campus was a little less lonely with her by your side. With your graduating and passing of the bar exam, Tilly became a professor at Dartmouth only to marry one of it’s wealthiest benefactors—retiring early as an entrepreneur and world traveller.

Due to the nature of both of your lives and her demanding social life with her husband, you were only able to keep some contact with her through letters, holidays and formal events—such as tonight. Naturally, one of the first invitations you sent out to your contacts was for Tilly and her husband to join your family in celebration of five years spent at Lake Tahoe.

Tillie had briefly met the Corleone girls after you married Michael and spent much more time at public events, but this time, it wasn’t just Sandra escorting Tillie alone; she remains next to an unfamiliar, brunette woman whose gaze appears to be insistently over Fredo.

“Tillie!” You exclaim out, pulling her into a hug as the two of you share a soft laugh.

“Victoria, there you are! So good to see you and the girls again! Oh, I thought I may have lost you in the crowd already but Sandra pulled me out!”

“And there’s someone I’d like you to meet, Victoria.” Deanna chimes in, gesturing to the unfamiliar woman by Tilly’s side. “An associate of Senator Geary’s. This is Rita Duvall, from Las Vegas herself!”

Rita Duvall is both an unfamiliar name and face to you. Unsurprised Deanna would have such contacts as she’s in the Hollywood show business herself, Rita doesn’t quite fit the picture for what you expected an “associate” of a US senator to look like.

Dressed in a rather flashy and provocative cocktail dress dipping down to expose her cleavage that wouldn’t surprise you if it was over Deanna, Rita’s body posture remains alluring and almost seductive in the way she carries herself. Her hair is curled in a tight updo with a full face covered in makeup as if she had come along to a party, but entered the wrong one.

“Hello, Miss Ferrari.” Rita smiles back at you coyly.

“Corleone.” You correct, noticing from the side that Fredo has seen her and moved to the other side of the table almost immediately.

“Corleone?” She raises a brow, looking at you as if you just told her a joke.

Connie purses her lips, and you can already tell by her expression she’s not fond of Senator Geary’s choice of an extra guest to bring along.

Picking up on the awkward air between you two, Tilly clears her throat and continues for the sake of introductions. “She and I met earlier this evening as well. Rita?”

“You may have heard of me from Moe Greene.” Rita adds as if you’re supposed to know her. She extends a hand out for you to shake. “I spent many years alongside him in the show business in Vegas.”

“Ah…” She’s a cocktail waitress. You shake her hand back loosely, unimpressed. Now it makes sense as to why Senator Geary has her alongside him, and it more than explains her eager gazes over at Fredo.

“Got a little friend over there you want to introduce us too?” Sonny grins back at Fredo, nudging his arm.

“Who is she anyway?” Tom briefly takes a glance back at Rita.

“Ah, just one of Moe Greene’s old girls from the resort, before Mikey bought it out.” Fredo brushes Sonny off, taking a seat and avoiding looking over at Rita at all costs. “A cocktail waitress, an escort—she did some work as a showgirl when I met her.”

“Was she one of the cocktail waitresses you were ‘banging two at a time’?” Sonny holds back his laughter as Tom shakes his head back in disapproval at the joke.

“Uh.” Fredo chuckles nervously, only fueling the fit of laughter Sonny now breaks into.

“Oh, okay, I get it! You’re the man, Fredo! Yeah, Tom, see—I knew he could still get it!”

“But of course, after the Corleone’s bought out Moe’s business, she came over to me in Hollywood.” Deanna boasts as if it’s something to be proud of. “We’ve been like sisters ever since. At least tonight you can meet the man who bought out your career, eh?” She gives an airy laugh. “Corleone hospitality is like none other!”

“You’re lucky to have grabbed Fredo yourself.” Rita gives Deanna a forced smile.

“Wait till you meet the other ones.” Deanna winks back at her.

“Ahem—” Theresa cuts in, gesturing to the table. “Dinner is about to start, but I’m sure if you have any questions or business related matters, then you could wait to see Mr. Corleone after.”

“And that would be my brother, Michael.” Connie shoots Rita a disapproving look. “Victoria is married to him.”

The same look of utter disbelief crosses Rita’s face as she turns her attention to the Corleone boys—now seeing Michael seated and making conversation with Vito, your father and the Senator. “Is he the…?”

“Dark, gelled back hair, dreamy one with eyes to die for?” Deanna hiccups, “yes!”

“Oh, that’s Mr. Corleone… The head of the Corleone family, is he? I know Moe mentioned he didn’t like him.” Rita muses.

“Why’s that?” Tilly raises a brow.

“Whenever he came by to the hotels, he made everyone leave. The band, the waiters, and all of us—the girls. Fredo though, he loved our company. He was something else, but now I see he’s trying to be a bit more like his brother. Settling down…” Rita lets out a laugh, nudging Deanna, “and with lucky Deanna at that, but his brother over there… So stern and serious.”

Turning back out of reaction, you notice Michael is well within earshot to listen in on the entirety of your conversation with the girls, and knowing him, he’s already heard it all. However, Michael neither budges a muscle to look or turn back, nor does he care.

You stop yourself from nibbling over your bottom lip to keep your lipstick intact, knowing it comes out of reflex from the jealousy tugging at you in your gut. You hate the very feeling itself, brushing it aside for the sake of maturity.

“Michael’s only bad habit is cigarettes.” Connie pulls open her purse, grabbing one out of her pack. “And you’ll find nothing else about my brother but that.”

If someone doesn’t say that outloud, they’re certainly thinking it. While Rita may be outspoken and promiscuous in manner towards what she wants and what she thinks, the idea of having many other women not just tonight but in general and everyday thinking the same isn’t fantasy—it’s reality.

[ Excerpt 3 ]

“I take it your father is not a man who accept apologies or takes thoughtfulness into consideration through letters and gifts.” Michael laces a hand with you as the two of you remain seated next to each other in Michael’s private vehicle.

“Never has been.” You crack a smile, giving Michael’s hand a gentle squeeze. “He’s always appreciated the sentiment, though. He can be appreciative when he wants to.”

“Your father is a good man, Victoria.” Michael glances back at you, “but the notion may be temporarily lost now with your mother’s death.”

“Michael,” you frown back at him, “I’m sure whatever the reason for him asking for us to see him is nothing hostile or the sort. He loves you like his own son and based on the circumstances, I think the two of you have more in common now than ever.”

“Such as?” Michael raises a brow at you, hardly moved.

“Both of you want Roth dead.” You nod back at him, “but he’s still alive.

[ Excerpt 4 ]

He was a different man then as he can admit to himself now, but everything fit perfectly. He knew he needed you, and he knew he wanted you. He constantly searched at your expression and body language to feel the mutual energy off of you. He wanted you to desire him, he wanted you to crave him both physically and emotionally—because all of these things he did towards you.

Physical attraction had to be set aside for the sake of considering and building a solid marriage, but it was still unavoidable. You were not an ordinary woman blending into the crowd, whether you were in downtown New York or in Vito Corleone’s office that Michael had been in a million times. You’re Sicilian, as Michael could tell from your appearance very clearly, and your facial features, your hair, down to your eyes, and even the way your lips are shaped attracted Michael.

He could not get his eyes off of you, even with his father talking. Each time he glanced at you, he wanted to look again—he wanted to see more. He confused himself in the sense that he didn’t know why he couldn’t get enough of you, no matter how he looked or for how long. He quickly came to the realization that no matter what he did or tried to do, he would simply never get enough of you. That’s when Michael Corleone knew he was falling in love with you.

The way you spoke intrigued him. The way you carried yourself caught his attention. Your behaviour, the sound of your voice, how you could have very much been the Sicilian girl he had laid eyes upon instead of Apollonia, but how you also could have been someone he’d want to search through all of New York to find if he saw you even for a moment downtown.

Michael didn’t want to get his hopes up when he first saw and met you. Apollonia’s death was not fresh, but still too soon. He knew what happened the last time he let his attraction to a woman lead him to marriage. It couldn’t be helped, at the end of the day. He could not and would not refuse his attraction to you.

You weren’t a blur or black sheep of your family. You were involved in differently ways, but not enough to use the word “directly”. You were educated, intelligent, ambitious, had a life of your own, goals of your own, were selfless and devoted to your family. You had every trait Michael was searching for in a potential wife.

[ Excerpt 5 ]

“Not the reaction I expected.” Alphonse purses his lips, reaching into his suit jacket. “Maybe this will help you remember.” He slips out a photograph, holding it up in front of you.

Your jaw falls wide open, your face stinging with sheer and utter humiliation at the image before you. Taken years back when you first started at Dartmouth in your second semester, you pose at Sigma Alpha Epsilon fraternity house, your arms wrapped around a younger Alphonse Ricci’s arms as he’s leaned in, kissing your cheek deeply as you give a beaming smile at the camera.

“How did…what…?” Your face burns with embarrassment, unable to believe the photograph before you.

“It was just a semester, but I know you remember me.” He places the photograph back into his pocket, grabbing onto your wrist as you attempt to reach out for it. “Ha—that helped, didn’t it? Look at you…”

“Stop…” You take a step back, “stop this.”

~

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Mystery Writer (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer finds books at a second hand bookstore that are annotated and he falls the person writing the notes. 

AN: This was part of a fic swap on @imagining-in-the-margins​ server! This is for the marvellous @definitelynotkatesblog​ <3 I really hope you like it! I had to delete the original post because it didn't show up in the tags. This will be staying up regardless of that now.

Masterlist

Your name: submit What is this?

“If you need anything, just let me know!”

Spencer pressed his lips together at the person behind the till before heading deeper into the rows of second-hand books. Familiar titles, old and new, printed on spines in various states of pristine/decay, they tempted him to select and bring them home with him. The clear sections between biographies and fiction guided him deeper into the forest, deeper into finding his way out. He was hoping to adopt one such book for a day off, when he could revisit it with a fresh eye. It would be like seeing an old friend again, remembering why they were friends in the first place with a hint of that initial read through from years ago, and perhaps he would learn something new in the process.

A dull ache in his chest at the sight of The Sign of Four by Arthur Conan Doyle. But he had long since recovered from that heartbreak and he would be able to read this story without feeling that again.

Still. It had been several years since he read this book.

His nervous fingers plucked it off the shelf and the pages fell open for him. A flattened gum wrapper parted the pages like the Red Sea. Spencer lifted it out tentatively. Its creases were ironed in from its role as a temporary bookmark, an impression of scribbled black ink flattened after it was made.

Spencer’s eyes scanned over the page in search of what this gum wrapper might have been guarding.

“Women are never to be entirely trusted – not the best of them.”

In the margins was scribbled:

Product of the time, but still a prick, rude smartarse role a bit dull

Spencer found himself exhaling in light laughter. That a lack of empathy was considered “dull” by this person, when it was something he dealt with in his job almost every day. The confidence in this commentary too, this brazen critique of a much beloved fictional character was left for someone else to find.

His gaze found Watson’s opinion of Holmes’ casual sexism: “atrocious sentiment”. It was circled twice in the same black biro.

Spencer dug his thumb against the text block and flicked through the book. A waft of that book smell lifted from the paper, accompanied by the bold notes of the previous owner dotted across the text until he finally landed on the reverse of the front cover. Two letters – initials - were scratched onto it.

It was with bridled exhilaration that Spencer approached the till and held up the book with a half-smile. His hands were quick to place it down on the counter so that the shop assistant could type the price into the till. His mood was apparently palpable because they seemed just as happy as Spencer to hand him back the novel in a brown paper bag – the receipt tucked inside.

 --->--->--->--->--->

 “Love is an emotional thing, and whatever emotional is opposed to what is true, cold reason, which I place above all things. I should never marry myself, lest I bias my judgement.”  

What a lonely existence and also a lie. See: entire relationship w/ Dr. Watson!

Spencer smiled at this comment. Now all the other instances of a double underlining made sense. Each one produced itself in his mind as evidence that Mr Sherlock Holmes did in fact love. Maybe not marry, but it would have been terribly unconventional for him to wed Doctor John Watson. The unknown author seemed to understand this. They never emphasised if this love was platonic or romantic. But the way in which they proved love existed within this character oft portrayed as emotionless, Spencer simply adored. They were a romantic reader, who still enjoyed reading about the cynic

He grew quite aware of his posture in that moment and he straightened his back. A few clicks of complaint emitted as he stretched, his head twisting from side to side. Screwing his eyes open and shut behind his glasses, he revisited your deduction.

On the dot of the “i” in “lie”, there was a sprinkle of graphite around the indent from where a pencil’s lead had snapped from the effort put into topping off this point. A sprinkle of graphite smudged where the pages pressed together.

Spencer moved on to where a sentence in black biro tried to blend in with the printed words. A memory appeared at the front of his mind: when Rossi was bewildered to learn Spencer and Dr. Alex Blake wrote the newspaper crossword in pen.

The pencil markings were like mini brainstorms, something to revisit and make a solid theory with the black biro. But the planning was never rubbed out.

Little quotes were circled. This mystery critic spent half the book roasting the characters and the other half leaving little exclamation marks and circles around phrases and words when they couldn’t think of something to say. Spencer found it sweet, picturing the thrilling unfolding of events for the reader to revisit.

His heart ached in bittersweet memory as he recalled the contents of Dr Alex Blake’s book The Route of Linguistics. It was necessary pain to create a profile of who this mystery critic was. Yes, he was profiling out of work hours. His evenings were now spent trying to picture the voice behind the notes. The sarcasm, the witty blows to the character’s and author’s ego. He almost wished that he couldn’t read so fast because he finished the book, even with its additional notations, all too quickly. But there was one bonus.

Spencer traced the pad of his fingertip over the exclamation marks describing Mary Morstan. What else might a detractor of the great Sherlock Holmes read?

--->--->--->--->---> 

He had returned to the bookshop in favour of adopting another. Yet he could not find one that satisfied his unknown criteria. It was not until he found himself checking the front pages of the fifth book he had selected, that he realised he was looking for a pair of initials.

Sighing, he placed My Dear Bessie, with its empty front page, back on the shelf. The chances of finding another book containing this mystery critic were so minute. He could probably calculate them if he wanted to dedicate himself to such a disheartening statistic. He’d rather not spend his lunch break doing that, as much as he loved statistics. This once, they did not assure his safety and he remained unsupported by the fact that he could not find any other Arthur Conan Doyle books.

His desperation became most apparent when he thought that perhaps fate should just decide for him. If anything, he would come away with a random book to read through in about ten minutes on a flight back home.

He peeked around the corner of the shelves. The shop assistant at the till was busy writing something down, not paying any mind to the shop’s only customer.

“A random shot had no better odds than just picking books off one by one” is what he told himself as he closed his eyes and placed his fingers on the end of the shelf, just over the first book’s spine. In an “S” pattern, his arm moved up and down, over the books and shelves and gaps between units. His feet stepped forwards into the space he knew was clear.

Spencer stopped and opened his eyes, his finger shifting just an inch out of the way of his new book’s title.

Circe. Madeline Miller.

He tapped the top and the book fell forwards, where he caught it. Its shining dust jacket was serving its purpose, a few tears along the edges from where it had protected the hardcover. He checked the front page. A map of Aiaia in orange and brown filled it to the corners. On the next page, his heart stuttered at the sight of two initials in the same handwriting and the same biro. There was also a scribble - invisible to start with then a ball of black.

The first page with the story’s text held a scribble just above its opening line:

the power of the name

“When I was born, the name for what I was did not exist.”

He could see that the first was in a blunt pencil, but the addition was a sharpened point carving into the paper. A secondary thought that was provided after completing the novel, they had added it. Spencer lifted it to his face, his eyes crossing to keep the stipple in focus. The scent of the paper and the graphite reached him easily; the note must have been made just before Circe was gifted to him. How lucky he was to find such a treasure.

The shop assistant was cutting out a new sign for “BUY ONE GET ONE HALF PRICE!”. By the time Spencer made it to them, the sign was placed upon the pile besides him. The shop assistant smoothed out a crease on the dust jacket, ineffectively but Spencer admitted the gesture. He was glad that someone who loved books as much as him got to work in a place like this.

--->--->--->--->--->

Spencer’s mind, definitely for worse, echoed the words off the tabloids around his head the split second he made eye contact with the headlines. He paced the shelves to somewhere a little quieter. When he found the chocolate aisle, he pretended to peruse. Ever half a minute or so, his gaze drifted up to the till area where the shop owner was on a phone call and clearly not paying attention to him.

It was not long before Spencer grew bored of looking at KitKats, and he pulled out One Thousand And One Nights. The book’s pages fell again to page 57. This shop’s receipt stood above them, still holding its place from the previous owner. It felt wrong to part the two.

No new people had entered this corner shop for 8 minutes. He’d even given the time at the receipt’s end a fifteen-minute margin either side. Given that this mystery critic took a break from work at the same time on the same day of the week – and that they worked during the day – he should have seen them. Maybe he had, and they were that man in the baggy hoodie who stunk of weed. Probably not. Hopefully not. Not that Spencer was judging him for his… recreational activities. He just wanted the mystery critic to be someone he could realistically spend time with.

Just then, Spencer’s phone trilled annoyingly loud. He received a glare from the shop manager and Spencer sent an awkward apologetic expression his way before answering JJ quickly.

“Spencer, we’ve got a case. We need you here ASAP.”

His response was immediate. “Ok, be there in ten.” Hanging up, Spencer dithered on the spot then grabbed a packet of Cheetos. He’d been there for nearly twenty minutes; he had to get something.

“Three dollars,” the manager said before returning to his call. But not before he rolled his eyes at Spencer. Spencer dropped the bills onto the counter and dashed out before he could be offered a receipt.

--->--->--->--->---> 

  An outlier in the usual length of case work had passed by in five long days. Spencer hardly ever regretted the time he put into this job. Every unsub caught was lives saved. But the absence of his mystery commentator had been niggling at the back of his busy mind and he was glad to finally reunite with them on this long flight back.

From his satchel, he recovered the copy of One Thousand And One Nights and began rereading the notes to ground himself in the story. His focus lingered on the page as if he were reading it at the average 250 words per minute. It allowed him to block out the humming of the engine.

Spencer did not take his eyes off the page as he pulled open his desk drawer and popped a piece of overpriced gum into his mouth. Half-hearted reminders bounced in his head, from when he tried smoking and chewing gum to ease his cravings. The fruit flavour was very clearly artificial and it faded within six minutes. Why his mystery critic would pick such a pathetic packet of gum to chew, he didn’t know. But hopefully the fact of its flavour disappearing fast would mean they get through the packet quicker and buy another soon. Even if today, and the days before, spent in that shop did not lean in favour of that hypothesis.

--->--->--->--->--->

The Five People You Meet In Heaven was in the Recently Donated pile. It was near the top, slid towards the edge of the container after being placed wonkily on a copy of some sports autobiography.

Within the pages was more than Spencer could have ever hoped for. Entire paragraphs were circled, quotes underlined. A squashed mini post-it note tabbed the page and a whole paragraph was scrawled on it, about Tala. An arrow pointing to the underside, Spencer lifted the flap and saw more to read, like an interactive pop-up book that he’d gotten Henry for his second birthday. Spencer closed his eyes quick and snapped the book shut. He wanted to save it for when he was sitting comfortably, not while he was rushing back to work in time for JJ to get to her lunch break on time.

The shop assistant had just clipped the lid back onto a green highlighter when Spencer drew up to their counter. With careful fingers, he placed the book upon it. There was a twitch of the assistant’s mouth; their eyes brightened. They looked like they wanted to say something, but something else held them back from making the first move. Spencer recognised it from his school days.

“It’s a good read.” He spoke after they had typed the price into the till.

“I know,” The assistant replied instantly, a relieved smile on their lips, “What part are you on?”

“I’ve already read it, but I wanted to revisit the passage at the diner.”

“Ahh, that’s a good bit. One of my favourites.”

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed a fraction of an inch. His gaze dropped to the nametag on the left side of their chest. Y/N, their name’s first initial. It couldn’t be.

“What did you think about the final person, Tala?”

“Oh,” The shop assistant clutched at their heart, “I was an emotional wreck before and it hit me hard just as the rest did. So bittersweet to hear her forgiveness. It took me a few times to finish reading the end, but it was all worth it.”

He couldn’t be this lucky, to get this many books from the same person and to have them standing in front of him. Spencer didn’t believe in luck.

As he reached across for his new book, he turned over the cover, “Was this yours?”

Twisting their head around to read the publication details, the assistant – Y/N - smiled sheepishly at the initials. “Yes, and I’m glad to see it go to a new home.”

Apparently luck believed in him.

“But,” Spencer felt his brows knit automatically as he looked between the book and their previous owner, “You love it. I-I’ve seen your notes.”

A hand clapped over Y/N’s mouth, “Oh God, you must have. I mean, it wasn’t the intention initially, but I thought they might be a little entertaining for anyone who picks it up to leave them in there.”

“Oh, they were! I’d love to read more of your thoughts. Hear, hear them, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Y/N checked the door to the shop, still shut, and back to Spencer. They dropped their elbows onto the countertop with their chin in their palms. “What did you wanna know?”

From his bag, Spencer procured his – their – copy of The Sign of Four and flicked through the pages. So many places to choose, but he wanted to open with what had introduced him to Y/N’s analysis.

The pair put their heads together, leaning on the counter. Spencer could smell the chewing gum on their breath. Y/N never cut him off, and he never wanted to cut them off. There were little pauses at the end of each of their turns to speak before the other picked up where they had left off. Their voices leapt from secretive whispers to passionate orations of their favourite passages, rebounding evidence and analysis off each other like a bouncy ball. Spencer finally had a voice to put to the sarcasm, the one his mind had conjured long forgotten in the wake of Y/N’s enthusiasm.

The shop’s door swung open. Spencer leapt to attention as an older woman swept in, past the two of them towards the non-fiction section. Y/N adjusted their name tag, their back straight too. The clock behind the till announced that it was now twenty minutes after the end of Spencer’s lunch break.

Running on the rush of his hobby meeting a potential friend, Spencer asked, “Can I get your number? So we can talk more, maybe swap some more books, when you’re not working?”

His luck was still by his side as Y/N wrote out their number on his receipt, written in their infamous black biro.

--->--->--->--->---> 

  Spencer leapt over to the door of his apartment, took a deep breath, and unlocked it. Stood behind where it had been was Y/N and they too were still wearing the uniform from work. Their nametag was still on their polo shirt, the same spot that Spencer wore his FBI tag.

“Can I get you a drink?” He asked the second they made a step inside his abode.

“Tea would be great. Milk and one sugar please.”

And while he was in the kitchen, Y/N rushed over to the bookshelves, their eyes wide to take in Spencer’s collection. “Oh wow! You weren’t joking!” Their finger indicated to a hard cover copy of Mean Time by Carol Ann Duffy, “That’s one of mine. Well, yours now.”

Plucking it from the shelf, they opened it up. Spencer had written his initials beside theirs.

Spencer stuck his head out in the partition, “Ours. If we’re going to be sharing.” Y/N stood on tiptoes, teeming with delight, their hands cradling the book with all the care Spencer could hope for in a fellow reader. Joint custody of their books and their passion? What a dream.

“I just have to write a little more about the epilogue, and I’ll be with you,” Y/N took their place on his couch. A pencil began scribbling away their thoughts onto the last few pages. Their knees were their desk.

Spencer finished brewing and placed the mug in front of Y/N, who mumbled a quick thank you to him. He joined them in writing his final notes. It slowed him down a considerable amount, but he was glad to take things at a casual pace, especially considering the way that Y/N almost broke their pencil as they scrawled out their thoughts for Spencer to hear later.

“Have you thought about the next one you’d like to try?” Spencer asked tentatively. He wasn’t so sure if Y/N would want to be interrupted.

Luckily for him, Y/N paused their stream of consciousness to look back at his books, “Hmm. So much to choose from.”

Stood up, their book left in Spencer’s care. They took a deep breath, closed their eyes and used their forefinger to draw a zigzag over the spines. Spencer felt that he was almost sick with joy.

Y/N stilled their wandering hand and opened their eyes, already drawing out the selected novel, “This one.”

“And what have you chosen for me next time?”

Y/N handed over The Butterfly Lion from their bag, “Ok, I can’t wait any longer, what do you think?”

They sat back on the couch. Their legs now hung over the arm of the couch, elbows either side and face cupped in their palms. The book rested in their lap. Shifting so that he faced them completely, Spencer returned to the first page and his analysis began.