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writingwithcolor · 5 months

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How can non-Jewish writers include Jewish characters in supernatural stories without erasing their religion in the process?

Anonymous asked:

I have a short story planned revolving around the supernatural with a Jewish character named Danielle (who uses they/them pronouns). Danielle will be one of a trio who will be solving the mystery of two brides' deaths on the day of their wedding. My concern with this is the possibility of accidentally invalidating Danielle's religion by focusing on a secular view of the afterlife. At the same time, I don't want to assume that Jewish people can't exist in paranormal stories, nor do I want to use cultural elements that don't belong to me. So, how do I make sure that Danielle is included in the plot without erasing their Jewishness?

Okay so to start with I think we need to ask a question about the premise: what is a secular afterlife? I’m not asking this to nitpick or be petty, but to offer you expanded ways of thinking through this issue and maybe others as well.

A Secular Afterlife

What is a secular afterlife? To begin with, I get what you mean. The idea of an afterlife we see in pop culture entities like ghost media owes more to a mixture of 19th-century spiritualist tropes drawn from titillating gothic novels than to anything preached from the pulpit of an organized house of worship. Yet those tropes--the ominous knocking noises from beyond, the spectral presences on daguerrotype prints, the sudden chill and the eerie glow, all of those rely on the idea of there being something beyond this life, some continuation of the spirit when the body has ceased to breathe. For that, you need to discount the ideas that the consciousness has moved on to another physical body and is currently living elsewhere, and that it was never separate from the body and has now ceased to exist. Can we say that this is secular?

More so: Gothic literature, as the name suggests, draws heavily on Catholic imagery, even when it avoids explicit references to Catholicism. Aside from the architectural imagery, Catholic religious symbols permeate the genre, as well as the larger horror and supernatural media genres that grew from it: Dracula flinches from a crucifix, priests expel demons from human bodies, Marley’s Ghost haunts Ebenezer Scrooge in chains. The concepts of heaven and hell, and nonhuman beings who dwell in those places, are critical to making the narratives work.

The basis also draws from a biblical story, that of the Witch of Endor. The main tropes of Victorian spiritualism are present: Saul never sees the ghost of Samuel, only the Witch of Endor is able to see “A divine being rising” from wherever he rises from, and her vague description, “I see an old man rising, wearing a robe,” evokes the cold readings of charlatan mediums into the present (Indeed, some rabbinic sources commenting on this assert that this is exactly what was going on).

While neither of these views of its origin define the genre as the sole property of Catholicism--or of Judaism for that matter--it would be hard exactly to categorize them as secular.

A Jewish Perspective on ghosts

However, it’s not the case that ghost media is incompatible with Jewishness, assuming that it doesn’t commit to a view of heaven and hell duality that specifically embraces a Christian spiritual framework.

Jewish theology is noncommittal on the subject of the afterlife. The idea of a division between body and soul in the first place is found in ancient Egypt, for instance, earlier than the earliest Jewish texts. In Jewish text it’s present in narratives like the creation story, in which God crafts a human body out of earth and then breathes life into it once it’s complete. It also appears in our liturgy: the blessings prescribed to be recited at the beginning of the day juxtapose Elohai Neshama, a blessing for the soul, with Asher Yatzar, expressing gratitude for the body, recited by many after successfully using the bathroom.

Yet it’s not clear that this life-force is something separate than the body that lives beyond it, until the apparition of the Witch of Endor. The words we use to describe it, whatever it is, evoke the process of breathing rather than that of eternal life: either ruach (spirit, or wind) or neshama (soul, or breath): neither is a commitment to the idea that it does--or that it doesn’t--go somewhere else when the body returns to the earth.

Jewish folklore, however, leans into the idea of ghosts and other spiritual beings inhabiting the earthly plane (and others). Perhaps most famous is the 1937 movie The Dybbuk, in which a young scholar engaging in kabbalistic practices calls upon dark forces to unite him and his fated love, only to find himself possessing her body as a dybbuk. It appears that he is about to be successfully exorcized, but ultimately when his soul leaves her body, hers does as well.

More relevantly to your story, a Jewish folktale inspired the movie The Corpse Bride. In the folktale version, a newly-engaged man jokingly recites the legal formula he will soon recite at his wedding, and places his ring on the finger of a nearby corpse--a reference to a time when antisemitic violence is said to have gotten worse not only at Jewish and Christian holidays as it does still to this day, but around Jewish weddings as well. The murdered bride stands up, a corpse reanimated complete with consciousness, and demands that the bridegroom honor his legal obligation.

In the movie, the bride gives up her demand willingly: her claim on him is emotional rather than legal, and she finally accepts that he has an emotional connection with another person, that he doesn’t love her. In the folk tale, the dead woman takes him to court to decide whether their marriage is legal, since he spoke the legal words to her in front of witnesses as is required, and the court rules that the dead do not have the right to make legal demands on the living. In this version, the moral of the story is that a legal formula is an obligation; that when he jokingly bound himself to the corpse, he not only disrespected the dead but also the legal framework that structures society, and by so doing risked being obligated to keep his side of a contract he never intended to enact.

This speaks to the ways that a Jewish outlook can differ from a Christian-influenced “secular” one. Christian-influenced cultural ideas can often focus around feeling the right thing, while Jewish stories will often center on doing the right thing. Does the Corpse Bride leave because she realizes she is not the one he loves? Because she--or he--learned a valuable lesson? Or because she loses her court case? It’s not that the boy’s emotions are irrelevant to the story--the tension, the suspense, the horror of the story takes place primarily within the boy’s emotional landscape--but emotions on their own are not a solution. The question “should he marry her” can be answered emotionally, but “has he married her” can only be answered by a legal expert, and once it has been the deceased bride may not have changed her emotional attachment to him, but she no longer has legal standing to pursue her claim.

Centering legal rectitude over emotional catharsis isn’t a requirement for having Jewish characters in your story, but it’s worth thinking about what is and isn’t universal, what is and isn’t actually all that secular.

Meanwhile, back at the topic:

Where does any of this place Danielle?

Well, unless you’re positing a universe in which Christian or other deities or cosmologies are confirmed to exist (See Jewish characters in a universe with author-created fictional pantheons for more on that topic), there’s no reason why they shouldn’t be perfectly fine interacting with whatever the setting you’re building throws at them.

My wishlist for this character and setting runs more to the general things to consider when writing fantasy settings with Jewish characters:

Don’t confirm or imply that Jesus is a divine being. That means no supernatural items like splinters of the cross, grails, nails, veils, etc. There’s nothing particularly powerful or empowering about this one guy who lived and died like so many others.

Don’t show God’s body and especially not God’s face, or confirm that any other gods or deities exist, whether that’s Jesus, Aphrodite, or Anubis, or someone you made up for the context.

Don’t put Danielle in a position where they’re going to play into an antisemitic trope like child murder, blood drinking, world domination, or financial greed. If you have to, name it and let Danielle express discomfort with or distaste for those actions both because Jewish values explicitly oppose all of those things but also because Danielle as a Jewish character would be painfully aware of these stereotypes as present and historical excuses for antisemitic violence.

Do consider what Danielle’s personal practice might look like. What does Danielle do on Shabbat? What do they eat or refrain from eating? What are their memories of Jewish holidays and how is their current holiday observance different than their childhood? I know I say “Jewishness is diverse” on every ask, but it is, and these questions--which also underscore how very much Judaism is rooted in one’s actions during this life--will help you develop how Judaism actually functions to inform Danielle’s character, even if you don’t spell out the answers to each of these questions in text.

Do let Danielle find joy, comfort, and identity in their Jewishness not just in contrast with Christianity but simply because it’s part of the wholeness of their character. I know the primary representation of Jewishness is a snappy one-liner in a Christmas episode followed by the Jewish character joining in the Christmas spirit, blue edition, but make room for Jewishness to inform how Danielle approaches the events of your story, or why they decide to get or stay involved.

-Meir

Hi it’s Shira with some Jewish ghost story recs written from inside–

When The Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb (deliriously good queer YA Jewish paranormal, mainstream enough that it’s got a good chance of being at your local library and won all kinds of awards)

The Dyke and the Dybbuk by Ellen Galford (sorry for the slur, warning for a paragraph of biphobia in the book but it’s an older book. I read this right before my divorce so my memories are super fuzzy but it’s about this modern day lesbian who gets possessed by the ghost of a different lesbian from hundreds of years earlier in Jewish history.) Nine of Swords Reversed by Xan West z’L of blessed memory - another queer Jewish paranormal.

The general plot is that two partners are struggling with how to be honest with each other about the effect disability is having on them. It’s got a very warm and fuzzy cozy vibe but kink culture is central to the worldbuilding so if that isn’t your vibe I didn’t want you to go in unaware.

The Dybbuk in Love by Sonya Taaffe. I don’t remember the details but I remember loving it, it’s m/f and romance between possessor and possessed.

I wrote a really short one called A Man of Taste where a gentile vampire woman and a Jewish ghost/dybbuk get together.

#Jewish #Judaism #supernatural #supernatural beings #settings #fantasy #ghosts #asks

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reiderwriter · 6 months

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can i request for a mean!spencer x bau!reader? like they are not enemies but there's just this really intense sexual tension with prompts 2, 30, 48, and 49? thank you!

#2 "I wouldn't fuck you if you were the last person on earth.” #30 "You're not as hot as you think you are.” #48 "You belonged to me before I even made you mine.” #49 "I'm so fucking obsessed with you.”

A/N: Thank you for requesting! Sorry it took almost an entire season to get it done 😭 I hope it's as good as you expected it would be :D

Warnings: slight BDSM themes, Dom!Spencer, dry humping, choking, thigh riding, finger sucking, cum play, facial, penetrative sex, use of contraception, probably more that I don't remember right now... 18+ Minors DNI

There was no one you wanted to spend the night with less than Spencer Reid.

He was annoying, and frustrating and most importantly never knew when to shut the fuck up.

No one was better at getting under your skin, and no one seemed to relish it quite like he did. It wasn't that you hated the man, just that he had the presence of an unkillable mosquito in your life.

He was irritating.

“Y/N, are you even listening to me?”

“I try not to make a habit of it,” you rolled your eyes, pushing past the man as you both finally made it to your motel room for the night.

You weren't sure if this was divine punishment or Emily's idea of a joke, but you'd ended up with Reid as your roomie for the next week.

As your case location was remote and as back waters as it could get, you'd ended up needing to bring Penelope Garcia along with you physically. And with only four rooms available, the eight members of your team had to all scramble for acceptable roommates and, having gotten off the jet last, you'd drawn the short straw.

Rossi had been quick to pair up with Luke, citing Spencer's snoring habit as reason enough, and the girls had happily fallen into two pairs. It was your lucky day.

With your hands busy with your bags, you tossed the key to Spencer quickly and waited for him to unlock the door, eager to escape the cold chill of the night.

“Hurry up, Spencer, or we'll both turn into popsicles out here.”

“Not only is that physically impossible, but it also isn't that cold out here, Y/N. Don't you think you're being a bit sensitive.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and he let out a sharp chuckle as he finally managed to unlock the door.

Despite your best wishes, stepping over the threshold didn't solve your problems. Instead it seemed to present even more.

“Fuck, how is it colder in here than it is out there?” You said, shivering violently as you stood in the doorway. If you thought that was reason enough to cure though, you thought you'd practically spit fire when you saw the sleeping arrangements for the night.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your body forgot its fight to keep warm, letting your blood run cold as you found yourself face to face with one singular, though large, bed. Another cursory glance around, and the heart motifs on the walls and pink themes cushions on the bed suggested that this was likely the motels joke of a Honeymoon Suite.

“Emily did mention that we booked out their last four rooms.” Spencer said, walking up beside you and frowning deeply as he took in the same scene you did.

“She said nothing about the rooms being igloos though, Spencer. I never thought hypothermia was going to be my cause of death after spending the night with you in the room.”

“You think I'd shoot you.”

“I think I'd shoot myself.”

He scowled a little at that and moved to check the room's thermostat. Although it was presently reading 215° so you didn't know how much good that could do.

“There's no sofa,” you grumbled as you watched Spencer move to the small bathroom.

“And there's no hot water. And according to the sign on that table, there's nothing we can do about it until the morning.” You picked up the sign yourself, just to verify and practically moaned in frustration.

“This is insane, we'll freeze to death.”

“It has to drop below 32° in here for us to even possibly freeze death. There's no wind, rain and we have blankets, so maybe you should focus less on being dramatic and more on what we can be doing to warm up.”

“I'm sorry, Doctor Genius, whatever can I do to warm up? Please impart some of your wonderful knowledge on me, I beg.” His eyes flashed with some annoyance and you quietly enjoyed the expression, happy to have affected him as much as he affected you.

“You can start by stripping.” It was his turn to enjoy the abject look of horror that crossed your face in that moment, and you were convinced that of he let even a hint of a laugh out, you'd throttle the man.

“I'm sure you'd just love that,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Well, there's no water, no thermostat and no other source of heat, so if you're so worried about hypothermia, there's only one solution viable to us right now.”

“You're joking. You want us to huddle together for warmth?” You backed yourself into a corner as you tried to distanced yourself from him as he suddenly began divesting himself of clothing.

As soon as he reached the top buttons of his shirt, you let out a quick squeak and turned around.

“Unless you want me to watch you get undressed too, I suggest you hurry up and do it before I get into bed.”

You quietly cursed and started unwrapping each of your layers, fingers fumbling with the cold already seeped into your skin.

“I am not getting naked, Spencer Reid.”

“I didn't ask you to. Just get comfortable.” You turned around to shoot him a glare, but when you noticed his back was turned - and bare - you lost all memory of the purpose of the movement.

You'd never quite realised before how broad his back was. His shoulders looked strong despite his lithe frame, twisting rather attractively as he pulled his nightshirt over his head. You were almost disappointed that he wasn't facing you, suddenly curious about Spencer Reid's happy trail.

You snapped yourself out of it and continued to change, wrapping your coat around your waist to hide your legs as you switched your pants to your sleep shorts. It was an awkward fumble, but at least the lights were low.

When you were finally ready, your steps back to the bed were hurried and near painful as you felt colder than ever.

Spencer was already there, and without a second thought, you pulled the quilts up and plastered yourself to his side. He was the only thing in the entire room offering you a modicum of warmth, and you weren't going to let your personal hot water bottle go just because everything that came out of his mouth was hot air.

“So you're a big fan of this now, huh?” He said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in. Your back was pressed against his chest as you both laid on your sides, piles of duvet and blankets laid out on top of you. You hated to admit it, but this position was comfortable.

Maybe it was just months of working cases non-stop and perpetual singleness, but the feeling of a man at your back was infinitely pleasing.

“Don't expect anything more Spencer Reid. I wouldn't have sex with you if you were the last man alive.” The words were harsh, and if you were being honest, a little bit untrue. Your small peak at his back earlier had definitely sparked an interest in you that was bubbling up in your throat. Like bile.

“You don't have to worry about that. You're actually not as hot as you think you are.” His words were tinged with the same faux bitterness as yours, but you refused to hear it. Instead all you felt was another unpleasant heat spreading throughout you, quiet anger plotting in your stomach.

You knew you probably shouldn't push it, but you needed Spencer to eat those words. Desperately.

Your mind ticked through a few options before landing on one. If you were so unattractive, then surely there's no way he'd physically react to you.

Scooting your body closer to his, you take advantage of the less than comfortable bed, making each of your movements similar to ones you would make when getting comfortable. Except, of course, with the added bonus of making sure your ass pressed directly up against his crotch, moving up and down and grinding into him.

You felt him slightly stiffen behind you, and decided that a few we'll time groans of frustration could go a long way to spurring him on.

So you began letting little gasps and sighs out, graduating to moans when you thought he wouldn't question it, each small movement rubbing against him deliberately.

What you'd failed to remember though, was his hand on your waist. Although you knew he was awake beside you, despite the now late hour and somewhat comfortable bed, his hand held you firm. Or it did until you risking bounced yourself gently against him, and his now limp hand slipped underneath your shirt.

The moan you released then was genuine, the cool touch of his fingers against your burning skin causing you to flush and shiver at the same time. You cursed your earlier self for valuing your comfort over your general peace of mind, because as Spencer's hand once again settles centimetres away from the edge of your boob, you desperately wished for your bra back.

You stopped moving, hoping that if you just pretended to sleep for a few minutes, his hand would reach higher and he'd prove to you that he did think you were attractive. He didn't though, showing off how gentlemanly he was. It pissed you off. Most of his good qualities pissed you off, and you were sure that said more about you than him .

You tried your best to just give in, to even out your breathing and let the black haze of sleep take over but his hands on you were maddening, and you found your body reacting in much the same ways you'd wished him to react.

It didn't help that he'd casually shifted his lower body away from you slightly in your stillness, letting himself fall onto his back rather than his side. As he made this shift, his hand trailed across the expanse of your body before cutting all contact with you altogether.

So much for huddling for warmth if all he had to do to return you to record heats was stroke you like that.

You needed to feel him again, so, feigning the most realistic sleeplike movements you could muster, you turned your body in his direction, and placed your head over his chest. You weren't finished, just proceeding with caution. Your hands obviously fell over his chest, if slightly lower than you'd expect.

It was only when your leg finally came up over his that he broke his silence.

“I know you're awake, Y/N,” he whispered in your ear, a solid hand on your thigh holding it down right over his crotch. You felt your prize and grinned in your sleep.

He was hard. You'd won. It was time to play.

You opened your mouth to purr victoriously at him, but he moved so abruptly you were never expecting it.

Shifting his hands to your ass, he hauled your body over him, letting his hands stay on your hips as he began to help you shift them back and forth. You moaned at the friction, even as your head stayed rested on his chest. The movements were shallow, just a teasing but you already felt more aroused than you had in months. Slowly, your hips started moving for themselves and his hands moved onto more important things.

“Am I suddenly the last man on Earth, Y/N?” He smiled, tipping your head up so you could make eye contact with him.

“Go to hell.”

“I think we're already there, don't you?” With that, his large hands sat you up, meeting with no resistance as you let yourself become pliable.

“Show me.” He whispered, hands right on your hips, pushing into your flesh just a touch part forceful.

“Show you what?” You narrowed your eyes, but you knew exactly what it was he wanted and that you weren't going to out up much a resistance before giving it to him.

“Show me how much you want to fuck me. Since your mouth isn't honest, I'm going to have to listen to your body.” You let your hands fall to his chest, pushing lower until you reached the hem of his shirt. He'd pushed the quilts off of your torso, letting the cold air attack your upper body, so you knew your hands were cold, and the hiss he let out at the contact was satisfying enough to shut up and actually start following his directions.

You shifted your body up and down, grinding and dry humping his crotch, wishing for him to stop being a tease and just get it over with.

He wasn't letting you compromise, though. Each small sound that left your body met with a soft smirk from him, each halt in your movements a prod from his hands. You'd tried to still your hips entirely once out of frustration, but he'd delivered a slap to your ass that had you gushing, desperate to reach a release even if he'd only allow you it this way.

“I don't think you're trying hard enough.” His voice was lower than before, something gravelly to it as he began pulling your clothing off one item at a time. Your sweater went first, before he flipped your positions and shimmered your shorts off your body, taking underwear soon after and then you were bare to him and he was rolling you once again.

“That's better. Now, where were we?” He moved your hips for you again, but his eyes stayed focused in the rigid peaks of your nipples, bouncing with each rock of your hips. You weren't sure if it was the cold temperature of the room or your sheer need to cum that had them reacting, but you knew he was seconds away from wrapping his tongue around one and giving into you, so you just accepted it.

His hands stayed put, still on your hips, though the direct contact was heating you slightly more. If you looked down, you were sure you'd see a wet patch against his sweat pants, so you didn't.

You just moaned and whimpered searching for your orgasm on top of him.

“What's wrong, Y/N? Do you need my help to finish?” He noticed your every insecurity, your weakness and exploited it. You were running close to inconsolable, desperate to hit that climax now, more than ever before, so you just nodded at him profusely, desperate for him to touch you in whatever way he could.

It wasn't his hand you felt on your clit, though. It was your own, he wrapped a hand around your fingers and bought them up to the correct stop, showing you exactly what he'd like to see.

“Touch yourself, Y/N. Touch yourself and wish it was me.” With the friction from grinding against him for so long, the satisfaction from the rigid tent underneath you and your hands taking his guidance, it was really not long before your pussy finally twitched familiarly and sighed, soaking his pants underneath you as you shuddered in delight.

He had to ruin your moment of bliss by talking.

“Is that enough, slut? Or do you really need to be filled right now?”

You didn't care if he saw you sticking your tongue down his throat as you collapsed on top of his chest as an answer to that question, or if he saw it as what it was - a desperate attempt to shut him up. All you knew was that he tasted sweet and hot, and that his hand wrapped around your throat was also hot as he pulled you up and off of him.

“Let me be clear. I am in charge.” A simple shift of his legs was enough to flip your positions, landing on top of you ungrateful, but you didn't care.

Using his new high ground, he wedged your legs open and slid a single finger inside you as you moaned. He too found success in silencing you by sticking his tongue down your throat, forcing you to battle him for dominance you knew he'd never allow you.

Having cum only moments before, you truly believed that there was no way he was going to push another one out of you after so little time. The night was full of surprises though.

As you relaxed into his intrusion, he opened you up with a second finger, then a third. You already felt yourself building towards your end goal, but it was his head dropping to tour cold nipples that finally had you cumming around his fingers. His mouth was wet, tongue warm against your skin, and he toyed with you so effectively, you practically forgot your previous qualms.

“See? You belong to me before I've even made you mine.” It irked you that he was right. Had this been any other man, you're sure you'd be bragging about such passionate sex for weeks with your friends. You were resentful that it was him, but you didn't want it to end yet.

Your arms pulled up to hide your face as he traced kisses up and down your chest, fingers coming free to pay attention to your since abandoned nipples.

“I can't wait to fuck you. You're going to feel so good wrapped around my cock,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your arms away from your face, making sure your eyes were focused on him before his next line.

“You have no clue what you started. I'm so fucking obsessed with you.”

His hands fell to your face, where his thumb pushed against your lips, slipping into your mouth where you sucked on it, getting it wet as his cock teased the folds of your pussy, running up and down with each gentle push of his hips. You entertained him for a moment before pushing up slightly, his thumb falling from your mouth as you blindly reached for the bedside table. Pulling it open, you were relieved to find what you were looking for.

“If you're so fucking obsessed with me, Spencer, show me.” Carefully unwrapping the package, you grabbed his dick and gently slid the condom onto him, making sure it was secure before you propped yourself back on the pillows, waiting for him to initiate once again.

“Pillow princess. You're acting like I haven't been dreaming of exactly this for the last 12 months.”

You couldn't waste time processing those words before he again ran his cock through the folds of your pussy, then sank himself deep inside you. And you meant deep.

The sudden impact robbed you of your thoughts, pushing out every miserable thought and leaving you with just Spencer and pleasure. The two concepts soon became synonymous as his hips lazily sent him careening in and out of you.

His strokes gained speed gradually until the only words shared between you were the animalistic pants of pleasure, his voice driving you insane as you tried not to get overstimulated before you could cum for a third time.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, Spencer-” your moans turned to screams as your orgasm rolled over you, his dick hitting just the right spot inside you that forced your nails to bite his skin, and forced your voice to scratch at your throat as it pushed up from your gut.

Noticing your relentless twitching, Spencer immediately pulled out of your cunt, allowing you a moment of reprieve. Pushing up to his knees, he moved to your side, his crotch parallel with your face as he rolled the condom off his dick.

Stroking himself to completion, he came right over your lips, your eyes dripping with lust as you licked them clean, catching the dribbles that fell down your chin with your fingers and popping them into your mouth as well.

After your whorish display of desperation, it took a full ten minutes for your brain function to resume.

In that time, Spencer had cleaned both of you up speedily with a hotel towel, wrapped an arm around you and began spooning you once again, his chest warm and comfortable against your back, his scent intoxicating.

It didn't stop being so when you finally came down from your post-cum bliss.

“You're not allowed to tell anyone what happened tonight,” you said, turning over to look him in the eye.

“Nothing from tonight, got it. What about tomorrow?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, am I allowed to tell them how I plan to wake you up tomorrow, and how your current state of dress made it possible, if not directly invited it?”

You flushed at his words, tingling already at the mention of tomorrow.

“We're sharing a room, Y/N. If you think I'm not going to be inside you whenever were both free, you're entirely mistaken.” His voice was clear - not even a hint of hesitancy in his voice.

“I'm not letting you go that easily, Y/N.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x you

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tasakesi · 2 years

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aghhh i try my best to put emotions aside and talk through problems without impulsively saying things in the heat of a moment and STILL he sees this as a personal attack

#it should be us vs problem not me vs you get that through your head #yes i might end up sounding cold because i try very hard to keep emotions at bay esp through text #i refuse to have wars #like today i sortof invited him to grab a coffee with me after my practice ended bc i figured it would be a nice way to see eachother #he ended up sleeping in bc his phone ran out of battery and he got home at around 5 #i figured that was the case bc last night he told me he was w/friends #i expressed my disappointment bc we dont rly hang out during the day. i brought up how always something geta in the way and we move the-#-hangout at a later time. i tried my best to be non threatening and accusatory. and somehow it snowballed to where he told me-#-he doesn't feel like explaining himself out of the situation (in estonian the slang is mähkima and idk how to even explain it well rn)#nad i just said that yeah.. okay.. instead of solving the problem you just have to mess with me #and now its just radio silence #and okay i admit i ended up being blamey and around the end a bit emotional #bc im lowkey hurt that he sees this as a me vs him type of a thing..#like aghhh everything else is fine but problem solving is just so horn clashing for us #🪐

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sinner-as-saint · 9 months

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I loved you in secret

Mob!Bucky x Detective!Reader

Run-through: Your relationship with Bucky was the kind of dangerous secret that could destroy you. But you couldn’t let him go either, he was too addicting. And neither was he willing to let you go, despite all the risks. The city was his playground, and this game of hide and seek you both played was his favourite.

Themes: mob!bucky, smut, fluff, detective!reader, metal arm,

a/n: I missed writing and I missed mob!bucky so here’s a little fic for you ily guys so much muaaahhh

You were immediately on high alert as you left the pub.

The team was celebrating a big case finally getting solved, so a few rounds of drinks was mandatory. But you left just after the second round of drinks because you wanted nothing more than to just get home and take a nice, long bath.

Your apartment complex was a 20-minute walk away from the pub, and the precinct. And the thought of a warm bath made you walk faster through the city.

But you being on high alert meant that something wasn’t right. Your gut was telling you something but you couldn’t figure out what.

Right as you passed a dark alley, a hand reached out and grabbed you, pulling you into the alley and pressing you against the wall. A cold hand covered your mouth, muffling your scream. You were ready to kick and fight your way out of the man’s tight grip, but that was until you realised who it was, and sagged in relief.

Bucky chuckled, removing his metal hand and uncovering your mouth to let you breathe properly. “Hi babygirl,” He nuzzled your neck as you took deep breaths to calm your racing heart, “Missed me?”

His soft lips brushed against your skin as he left kisses all over your neck. “Bucky!” You whisper-yelled. “You can’t just be here, you know that. We talked about this, you can’t be anywhere near this area.” You tried reasoning, but you couldn’t help the gasps and moans that left your mouth as Bucky’s kisses got more and more bitey.

“I know, I know,” He sighed, pulling away to look at you. His handsome face was partially hidden in the shadows, only one of his piercing blue eyes was visible and you couldn’t help but smile as you looked up at him, despite knowing that if anyone saw you here in his arms, your career was over instantly. “I needed to see you. I missed you, baby. I was away all week, I couldn’t just sit at home and wait for you, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning in and pressing your forehead to his. You breathed in his scent and it helped you calm down a little bit. “I know,” You whispered. “You’ve been following me all night, haven’t you?” You asked, already knowing he was what your gut was trying to tell you about.

Bucky smirked, kissing your forehead. “I have. Ever since you left work.” He kissed down your face, along your jaw. “I couldn’t resist,” He whispered, “You know how much I like watching you walk around in your suits,” He chuckled into your ear, hands dropping down to grab your butt for emphasis. “Now, can we go home so I can take it off of you?”

As much as you wanted to go with him right away you said, “You go ahead. I have some stuff I need to grab from my place and then I’ll see you at yours, okay?” You cupped his face as you spoke. He gave you his rare puppy eyes, then groaned.

“Fine. I'll send a car for you. I want you home in less than an hour.” He whispered, playfully biting your lip. “You hear me, detective?” He teased, “Less than one hour.” He repeated.

Everytime he referred to his place as ‘home’, your heart skipped a beat. You smirked, “Yes, sir.” You replied, winking as you pulled away to walk home as fast as you could. “Now get out of here before you get us both in trouble.”

—

As you walked to your apartment, you knew an all black, heavily tinted SUV was following you from a distance. It would’ve freaked you out if you didn’t know that there were just a few of Bucky’s men in the vehicle, ordered to ensure you make it to your apartment safe.

You smiled to yourself as you took the elevator to your floor. Already making a mental list of all the things you needed to pack for the weekend that you would be spending with Bucky. He was gone for the whole week for some ‘work thing’ and you had missed him so much.

You and Bucky couldn’t text or call like normal couples, because the risk of getting caught was too high that way. If any one of his associates or allies found out, you could be in terrible danger. And if any one of your colleagues ever found out, you were done for. So it could only be brief late night phone calls, or messages only a few times in a day.

As you packed, you thought of the day you met Bucky.

A little over a year ago, you were undercover in an infamous club in the more corrupted part of the city. That’s when you caught Bucky’s eye. He walked over to you, flirting shamelessly, constantly asking if he could buy you a drink, asking you to dance, and whatnot.

You had taken your gun out then, and had discreetly pressed it against his side. ‘Leave me alone, or I’ll shoot.’ Bucky had chuckled in that proud way of his, and pulled you closer. ‘You don’t wanna do that, detective. Now leave before I set my guys after you.’

He had known you were a cop in an instant, but he played along.

‘You could always do that, even if I leave. Why would I trust you?’ You’d asked.

He had given you that devilishly handsome smile of his and said, ‘You don’t have a choice, detective. There’s a car waiting for you outside, get it in and go where it takes you. I’ll join you in a while.’

For some reason you had done as he asked, and that’s how you woke up in his bed the next morning after the best night of your life.

And since then, the two of you couldn’t walk away from one another. Your little risky situationship had turned into something so much stronger over the past year, and now you couldn’t imagine life without him.

—

A car was waiting for you downstairs, as always. You got in with your bags and couldn’t wait to get to Bucky’s place. Home, as he called it.

Bucky’s mansion was found on the outskirts of the city, hidden within the rather dense and heavily secured forest. Very few people had access to this place. It felt like it was another world, cut off from the rest. Quiet, luxurious, and private.

The moment you walked in through the huge front doors, you were ambushed. By a pair of muscular arms, and an eager mouth. His relentless kisses had you giggling as you tried to maintain your balance.

“Bucky!” You squealed, wrapping your arms around him.

“Fuck,” He growled, hugging you so tightly it hurt. “I missed having you in my arms, detective, you know that?”

You tried to pull away to breathe but he wouldn’t let you. His metal arm tightening extra hard around you. “I’m gonna pass out if you don’t let me go.” You choked out through giggles.

Bucky pulled away, laughing as he grabbed your hand and led you towards the giant staircase. “Come on, we have so much catching up to do.”

—

The two of you barely made it to the bedroom before Bucky got handsy. He pushed you up against the nearest wall and undid the buttons of your shirt

“I missed you, babygirl…” He whispered against your mouth, kissing you hard. His hands slid your shirt down your shoulders, dropping it on the ground before he began undoing your pants as well. “I need you,” He breathed.

“Bed,” Was all you could mumble in your lust-drunk haze.

Bucky dragged you to his bedroom, stopping a few times on your way there to kiss you or get rid of an article of clothing.

By the time you both made it to his large bed, you were both naked and starved for one another.

“Fuck,” Bucky whispered as he laid you down on his bed, hovering above you. “Look at you…” he leaned down to kiss your neck, “You’re fucking perfect, aren’t you, babygirl?”

You arched your back, pressing up against him and he nibbled on your skin before pulling away to look down at you. His stare was intense, fiery, eyes darkening with lust. His voice was deeper than usual as he said, “I love you so fucking much.”

You smiled up at him, running your hands all over his back, shoulders, fingers running through his hair. You were starving, breathless, and trapped between his strong body. “And I love you, Buck.”

He leaned down again, kissing you even more ferociously. “I’ve been dreaming of having you here with me, in my bed. Do you know how hard it is to be away from you?” He kissed along your jaw, “It drives me fucking insane.”

His mouth slowly moved down your body. Kissing along your neck, biting your breasts and briefly sucking on them, kissing down your stomach, your hips, your thighs until he knelt in between your bare legs and stared down at you.

You lifted your upper body up onto your elbows and met his intense stare, burning with desire. You smirked as you held his feral stare. “Go on then, what are you waiting for?”

Bucky held your stare as he chuckled, leaning down to trail his lips up to your inner thighs then placed his hands on both your thighs and spread your legs further apart. “So bossy, detective…” He whispered quietly under his breath as he held your gaze.

Your wetness slowly dripped out of you as he kissed you everywhere except for where you needed him the most. You were whining and squirming under him but he acted like he was suddenly in no rush.

“Do you know how desperately I’ve wanted this?” He spoke, lips brushing against your heated skin. Then he scoffed, “I bet no one even knows how wet and needy you get for the bad guy, huh?” He taunted, “I bet no one knows how pretty the little detective looks when she begs the wanted criminal to fuck her harder and deeper.” He spoke and each warm breath of his made you whine and squirm even more as he held you there, open for him.

His words gave you butterflies in your stomach, made you clench hard around nothing.

“Bucky, please… I need you.” You whispered, your voice barely audible to yourself with how loud your heartbeats echoed in your ears.

“Beg.” He said. “Beg me to touch you. Come on, babygirl. Beg for my tongue.”

You whined. “Bucky please… It’s been so long, please. I need you,” You whispered. “I need your tongue, baby, please.”

Bucky smirked upon hearing the desperation in your voice. “Good girl.” He quickly pressed his lips to your inner thigh again, his mouth getting closer and closer to your dripping core.

You tipped your head back, sighing quietly as you felt his breath against your wet folds. Your body shivered and squirmed. You couldn’t help but slide your fingers into his soft hair, which only made him groan even louder.

You couldn’t help but moan shamelessly as he brought his mouth over to your clit, sucking on it hard enough to make you squirm in pleasure. His tongue slid up and down your folds, teasing your entrance, occasionally flicking your clit. “Best thing I’ve ever fucking tasted,” He whispered.

You tugged gently at his hair causing him to growl against your skin in response. His tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit, parting your wet folds with ease. You were sure your arousal must be coating his entire mouth and lips by now.

“So fucking delicious…” Bucky whispered, as he kept making you moan louder and louder with his tongue. He parted your legs further as far as they would go as he slowly brought a metal finger up to your clit, sliding it agonisingly slowly down your slit, parting your wet folds.

You shivered under his cold touch, then bit your lip to refrain from moaning too loudly. “Oh Bucky…” You sighed, then gasped audibly as he slid a finger inside you, stroking your walls gently while he placed his mouth back on your clit. “Please…” You begged, wanting more.

“Does that feel good, babygirl?” He asked, and chuckled when you were only able to moan in response. Lips brushing against your wetness he asked again, “Does it, baby? Hmm? Did your fingers feel this good when you touched yourself while I was away?” He growled as you kept whining and squirming under his addicting touch, “Answer me.”

“No…” You gasped. “No, it didn’t feel this good.” You whispered, breathless and wanting. “Bucky please…” You moaned. “Stop teasing me.” You said, looking down at him.

He gave you a cocky smirk. “You’re mine. I’ll tease you if I want to.”

You whined again, “Baby, please…”

His ocean blue eyes watched you as you lost control under his touch, whimpering and legs shaking as he teased your clit with his tongue and finger-fucked you. “You look so beautiful like this, you know that?”

You squirmed and gasped under his addictive touch. “Bucky…” You moaned out loud, your eyes closing and your head tilting back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you.

You came hard, all over his tongue, your walls clenching violently around his finger, your moans and gasps of pleasure filling the room. You tugged harder at his hair as you came, gasping for air as you came down from the high.

A faint giggle escaped your lips as Bucky left small kisses up your body until he hovered above you again. He stared deep into your eyes. “I love you,” He said.

“And I you.” You wanted him so bad it hurt. “Please, Buck…” You begged. “No more teasing, please.”

Bucky’s smile was genuine as he said, “Okay, babygirl. Whatever you want.” He leaned in to kiss you again. You moaned into his mouth at the taste of you on his tongue.

You kept waiting for more, but Bucky wasn’t quite done kissing you yet. So you scratched down his back, frustrated as you pulled away and demanded, “Will you fuck me already?!”

Bucky laughed at your little outburst, “Well spread your legs then,” He smirked when you obeyed instantly. He held your stare as he slowly slid inside of you, both of you grunting softly as he went. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good.” He whispered, nothing but desire and love in his eyes. He leaned in again, whispering against the corner of your open mouth, “How the fuck did I survive without this for a whole damn week?”

You felt his cock stretching you, filling you up. Every thick inch of him sliding into your tight cunt. “I don’t know how I survived without you either, baby.” You gasped. “You… you feel so good.” You could feel your eyes tearing up at how snug he felt inside you.

Bucky pulled away to watch you, “I don’t care, I’m bringing you with me wherever I go from now on.” He held your stare as he reached down to grab your legs and wrapped them around his waist. He looked down to where your bodies connected, quickly spitting right on your clit, his metal thumb spreading the wetness around as he leaned down to give you a messy kiss, swallowing your desperate moan in the process.

You couldn’t help your loud moans as he moved his hips the slightest bit. He said, “I forgot how good you looked with my cock buried deep inside you, babygirl.” Bucky pulled away and watched you as you whined at the feeling of his cock slowly moving in and out of you.

You could feel your walls clenching around him as he sped up and pounded into you. You felt all of him stretching you, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you until he was all you could focus on. The problems of real life didn’t matter anymore.

“You feel so good…” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly, his metal hand wrapping around your throat as he bent down to bite your lower lip and tug on it. “So perfect for me.”

You moaned at how perfect his hard, muscular, tatted and slightly scarred body felt against yours, his weight pressing down on you. His slight stubble tickled your skin as he moved.

Your legs trembled as you wrapped them tighter around his waist. His thrusts, relentless and unbearably good. The pressure around your lower body, tight and hot.

Bucky looked down at you as you tightened around his cock. He smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “Look at me, babygirl.” When you did, he whispered, “You’re mine. Only mine.”

You nodded. The possessiveness in his voice only made you clench around him again. Normally the idea of anyone claiming they owned you would’ve pissed you off. But damn, he made it sound so hot.

He gave you a lazy smile, “Are you gonna come for me now?” His metal hand squeezed your throat, making you moan even louder. “My dirty little detective. Look at you, all cock drunk and still wanting more…” He scoffed, giving you a messy kiss. “Come all over my cock, come on. Be a good girl and come.”

You whimpered, unable to say anything because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. The familiar pressure formed at your core and you whined again when his hand let go of your throat and his metal fingers found your clit, toying with it while he pounded into you mercilessly.

Bucky loved that look on your face, that look of utter bliss, pain, pleasure, lust and hunger all at once.

“That’s it, babygirl. You’re doing so well for me, look at you. Now come, come all over me,” He whispered and that was all you needed to hear before you came undone all around him. Whimpering and back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock, tightening around him.

Bucky kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under his intense gaze.

“Fuck, baby…” He watched you, lips parted, breaths in rags, heart racing. “I need you again.” He said, crazed with hunger for more.

He pulled out, his cock still achingly hard. “Already?” You squealed as he flipped you around – your hips and ass up while your face was pressed against the pillows. You were still catching your breath when his metal hand teased you in between your legs, his cold fingers rubbed around your clit and made you tremble. “Ah,” You moaned due to the sensitivity. “Be gentle.” Your voice sounded muffled because of the pillows.

His body bent over yours, his warm chest pressing against your back as he kissed your shoulder and the back of your neck until his mouth reached your ear, “I love you, but don’t you fucking dare tell me how to fuck you,” He said, softly but you could hear the untamed hunger in his deep, now growly voice.

“Buck…” You whined, “I’m gonna be so sore.”

“Good.” He licked along your neck and said, “I want you to feel me all day tomorrow.” He playfully bit down on your shoulder and you let out a loud moan. He chuckled at the sound of it.

You whimpered, “You always do this.” You murmured, voice laced with need and lust as he pulled away from your ear and kissed along your shoulders.

“Hmm. And you like it.”

You felt his hands on you, warm and cold, as he gripped each side of your hips then pushed into you from behind. Slow and deliberate strokes, until he slid inside you fully.

Bucky groaned and grunted as he filled you up entirely all over again, and moved in and out of you hard and deep, desperately trying to make both of you come this time.

Your fingers gripped the cool, satin sheets beneath you tightly, and your mind was all foggy, and you moaned wantonly as he pounded into you from behind, not once slowing down.

His metal hand grabbed you by the back of your neck, using that grip to create a delightful momentum that had you tearing up again. “Fuck,” He growled, “Remind me to use a plug on you next time. Your other hole is looking pretty empty.”

You couldn’t help the groan that escaped your mouth. “You can be so fucking filthy sometimes.” You said, whimpering just at the thought of being filled like that.

Bucky chuckled, not stopping. “You love me.” He said. All true.

Your walls throbbed and clenched around him each time he filled you up, as he took you higher and higher all over again.

“Fuck, babygirl.” He hissed. “I’m gonna come deep inside you.” You felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls violently. “Come for me again.” He hissed again, then groaned as you tightened around him – coming undone again.

Bucky growled as he buried his cock deep inside you, coming undone inside you like he promised. You whined and whimpered as you felt him filling you up, feeling some of his cum drip down your thighs.

“Fuck…” You whined, feeling your tears wet the pillow beneath you as you caught your breath.

“Oh babygirl,” He whispered as pulled out and he laid down beside you, pulling you into him for a cuddle. “I’ll clean you up in a bit, okay? I just need to hold you for a while.” He said, kissing all over your face. “Fuck, I love you.”

You sighed in bliss, still trying to calm your racing heart. “I love you more.” You whispered.

—

“So,” You spoke, putting another piece of fruit in your mouth as the two of you laid in bed in your robes. You were both too lazy to put on clothes after showering so here you were now, lounging in bed in your robes, with food and wine. “How was work?” You asked, “What did you do all week?”

“Apart from missing you like a lovesick madman?” Bucky smiled, placing his empty wine glass on the bedside table. “I made more money for you to spend.” He said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Meanwhile I had to pretend I was closer to putting some of your guys in jail. They just happened to be faster than me so I very conveniently lost them in a car chase. On an empty road.”

Bucky smirked, “You’re the best, baby.”

You threw a napkin at him. “I’m gonna lose my job one of these days because of you, I can feel it.” You taunted playfully.

He scoffed. “Well good, we can finally move to the island once you do.”

“There you go again,” You rolled your eyes again.

Him and that island – the small private island he owned and on which he planned to spend the rest of his life with you. He was obsessed with the idea of the two of you living there and calling it home, cut off from the rest of the world. Honestly, you didn’t hate the idea.

Bucky turned to face you, placing a gentle hand on your exposed knee. “Baby, we talked about this.” He reasoned. “At some point we’ll have to move. There’s no place for us here.” He added.

You knew what he meant. You knew he was right. But then there were other factors to consider. “Buck… what will I even do there?”

Bucky sighed, grabbing your arm and pulling you on top of him. You straddled him with a coy smile as he lazily caressed your thigh while he spoke. “You can do anything. Everything. You won’t even have to work, I’ll take care of you. You know that, babygirl.”

You chuckled, cupping his face and giving him a loud kiss on the lips. “So you want me to leave my entire life behind, move to a private island with you and do what? Twirl around in a pretty dress all day? While you work your ass off?”

He smirked, “I quite like the thought of that actually.”

You smacked him on the chest. “I’m serious, Buck.”

“So am I.” He argued. “Look, I’ve been carrying an engagement ring around for more than six months now. But I don’t want to force you into doing anything. We can wait, I’ll wait for you. Just know that this is gonna happen sooner or later. Us, the island, our future together. It’s happening and you can’t stop it.” He then squinted at you, “Why aren’t you surprised concerning the ring?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You keep it in the drawers of your bedside table. It’s not exactly a secret spot to hide an engagement ring that big.” You teased.

Bucky smirked then pushed you down on the bed, getting on top of you again. Your robes untied in the process. You squealed and laughed as he tickled you incessantly. “That damn smart mouth of yours.” He growled, leaning in to kiss your face. “If you knew about the ring, why didn’t you bring it up? Hmm? Why haven’t you said yes to marrying me yet?” He nuzzled your neck, biting down on your shoulder.

“Ow!” You hissed in pain, then giggled as he kissed it better. “Because you haven’t proposed to me properly.”

“I don’t have to” He mumbled, kissing down your neck. “You’re marrying me and that’s it.”

You scoffed. “So fucking controlling.” You teased him, your back already arching beneath him as his kisses got more and more steamy.

He pulled away to look down at you, his chain dangling from his neck right above your face, tickling your skin. Suddenly you wanted to live in this moment forever. Safe, warm, under him. This was your favourite place in the whole world.

“Then you shouldn’t have fallen in love with a criminal if you didn’t want a controlling man, detective.” He slapped your thigh, making you yelp in surprise. “And don’t pretend as if you don’t like me like this.” He sounded just as cocky as he did the day you met him.

You sighed. “Unfortunately I do.” You pulled him closer and kissed him. A soft, gentle kiss as he pressed his entire body weight down on you. “And yes, I will marry you. Eventually.” You whispered through the kiss.

He smiled against your lips, “Good.”

“Not right away though,” You said, “I still have many bad guys to catch.”

He chuckled, “You’re lucky I’m so in love with you.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky #bucky barnes au

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