#the noise and the germs :// not into it
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I'm coming up on loosing 2 weeks of being able to write because I feel so fucking awful and stressed. All I want to do is write, but I literally am unable to focus enough to be able to when I feel sick.
Sorry. I feel like all I've done on here lately is complain.
#i've been in such a black mood for the past two weeks ugh#i just want everyone in my house to leave and never come back#i haven't been this overstimulated and triggered in a long long time and as usual no one around me is sympathetic or cares at all#or maybe for me to be able to move far away where i can finally be truly alone and have my own space that isn't constantly being invaded#by germs or noise or just obnoxious people constantly demanding shit from me#lily babbles
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Honestly, same here when it comes to kids. I’m very good with them, and a lot of kids I know like me and are quite attached to me. My area of work involves a lot of work with and for kids, and I find it very important and giving to make kids’ life’s better and give them the help/resources they need (especially due to my own experiences as a kid). Personally, though, I’m at best indifferent when it comes to kids in general, and do not want kids of my own as I think they’re too much of a hassle. I often have people tell me I must be lying when I say I don’t like kids, which is like ??? I don’t have to like kids to be nice to them, or want what’s best for them?
no one hates children and treats them worse than their own caregivers but we have to hear abt how sociopathic we are bc we don't feel womb pangs whenever a baby cries or whatever the fuck
#kids seven and up tend to like me#it's not hard. they just want someone to listen to them and care about what they're saying#but i have no desire to be around toddlers or babies#the noise and the germs :// not into it#i am happy for you that you like the little person you made no i do not want to hold them#meanwhile i was at a festival and this mom had a wooden paddle to beat her kids with but i'm the one hurting kids apparently 😐
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The only solace in this over stimulated HELL is that I got more videos done.
But doesn't make me wanna bite off someone's face any less.
#i'm just so frustrated right now#repetitive noises drive me up a fucking wall#and coughing is worse because they're just projectile vomiting germs fucking everywhere
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This was on my last account but
Aithusa leaving muddy talonprints a la Blue’s Clues on everything that has any remote relation to Merlin whenever Morgana goes on a rant about tryna find Emrys
#bbc merlin#merlin emrys#merlin#Aithusa#morgana#morgana pendragon#crack headcanons#headcanon#bbc merlin headcanons#Morgana: Oh yeah thanks Aithusa I forgot to throw away Merlin’s old neckerchief#Aithusa: (Snoopy noise a la Charlie Brown Christmas. you know the one. right after Lucy goes “I HAVE DOG GERMS…’’#bbc Merlin crack headcanons#crack au
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in the World of Warframe there's humans (or. adjacent) on pretty much all the planets, right? there's bases of grineer, corpus, presumably at one point of orokin, pretty much everywhere
and there's the difference of a closed-off, controlled base (ships, gas planet bases) versus one built on a planet that's like. tolerable (venus, earth, mars - the rocky boys. it's been too long since i've been to mercury perhaps that one too)
so wouldn't it be fun if there was like. a difference in the immune systems of people who were raised in completely controlled environments. versus those who were raised somewhere where there are uncontrolled spaces where. oh i don't know. germs and such could flourish
jupiter-born-and-raised jay would have SUCH a time adapting to rocky deimos is all i'm saying. yes it IS tiny enough to have (require) climate control like a ship. no it's IMPOSSIBLE to control All the rocky nooks and crannies. also that's a uni planetoid you're not telling me those snotty students aren't importing their germs from all over the solar system
pule who's from venus is torn between laughing his ass off at jay's third cold that month and being Genuinely Concerned (he does both. he hands poor jay the hot chicken soup Before he loses his shit)
#rift lore#rift noises#vince#putting your biology used to climate A into climate B has CONSEQUENCES#<- has experienced such consequences (different from pictured but unpleasant nONETHELESS)#yes i know vents and such are PRIME breeding grounds for germs i'm just electing to think that's less significant than Dirt Germs
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who decided that we should celebrate our freedom and celebrate our war vets (most of which are traumatized from said wars) by shooting off loud explosives?
#fuck fireworks#hate them#and the poor animals and kids who dont understand why there's loud scary noises#number one firework hater right here ladies and germs
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I've only been sick once since the start of the pandemic (a cold in 2021) (I <3 masks 4ever) but I've had several times when I've felt like I was starting to get sick and was like "oh shit covid has finally come for me" and each time it went away before it became more than a Hint of Something. But last night my left under-jaw lymph node got so swollen it hurt, which is historically a reliable precursor to me being sick, and I also felt generally Off, and I was like. This is it for real this time, here we go. But I got extra sleep last night and woke up this morning feeling fine and with the swelling almost gone. Something brought the fight to my door and I kicked its ass
#fuck off germs!#I'll kill you with my t cells!#my body is so cool tbh#'ohhhhhh but if you wear a mask all the time your immune system will atrophy!' [fart noises]#(you know what actually weakens your immune system? covid. covid does that)
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[image description: tags by james-town reading “#cellos #I was a very small child and always worried I would get trapped inside #and that like my mournful screams would become the music from the cello. or whatever”]
what is the lamest thing that ever genuinely scared you like either as a kid or adult. i got scared of those halloween cartoon scooby doo ass eye stickers ppl put on mirrors when i was 9 and screamed so hard i fainted
#i was afraid of flies buzzing 😭 the noise scared me#the rest were like normal fears. dogs (not afraid of them anymore). the dark. dying. being a failure. etc. or ocd obsessions like germs#OH. also i was afraid of flowers. the inside of them looked scary to me
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Sometimes you find out that other people like cold pillows and the feeling of sneezing. Sometimes you're the psychopath who's fine with losing a sneeze and enjoys a warm pillow.
#why#sneezing sucks#do you know how many times I've spat out food accidentally because of a random sneeze#plus the germs#and the noise#and isn't a cold pillow uncomfy?#i like cold around me but warm pillows and blankets#i swear im normal#i swear im not the psychopath here#living chaotically#i swear im not crazy
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svt ot13 + when you're sick
Seungcheol ❧ This is why he drives an expensive car. The engine can barely be heard, and so at least Seungcheol doesn’t worry (so much) about the noise disturbing you. He steals a glance at your picture on his phone screen. You look miserable, tired, even as you’re sleeping. He can faintly make out the steady rise and fall of your chest. He takes a turn when the navigation tells him to, and he hopes the info online was correct and the pharmacy is still open. If you weren’t so sick he’d scold you about not being more careful about running out of medicine, but for now he will settle on restocking them for you. He takes another look at you, catching the exact moment you open your eyes and call his name. He reassures you he’s still there, just parking the car. Seungcheol takes the phone with him to the store that’s thankfully indeed open. He ignores your weak cries of embarrassed protest when he asks the person behind the counter how high does a temperature need to be to warrant a visit to the ER.
Jeonghan ❧ Your eyes water behind your closed eyelids and you want it to be just because of the headache, you will say it is because of it. Jeonghan will believe you anyway, even though you doubt he’d laugh right now even if he knew it might actually be because of the tender way he’s stroking your hair, your head held safely to his chest, and his soft voice quietly cooing praises and reassurances to you. You were pushing him away until you couldn’t anymore. He insists he’s always sick anyway, so it doesn’t matter. His arm is starting to get sore, but he won’t stop for as long as the action brings you comfort. In his head he keeps a checklist with no deadline in particular. He needs to make sure you eat, he needs to get some water in you too, he should get you to tell him everything that’s wrong. But that can wait until the painkillers kick in. Jeonghan knows you tried to be strong, and he’s proud - as he told you many times - but he’s prouder that you let him help. He kisses the top of your head and checks in with you. The silence is enough to tell him to keep going. So he does with a small smile.
Joshua ❧ No matter how many times you tell him that your condition isn’t so bad you’d need constant supervision, Joshua has none of it. He will make short trips outside your bedroom if necessary but otherwise he’s staying. You need him, he insists. You’re vulnerable and need his protection. He playfully punches the air that made you sick. Then he protectively squeezes you to his chest when your body is wrecked with chills. And he will take your approval of that as a sign he should continue with the silliness. He pretends to sneeze at you - to scare your germs away, he says. He reminds you that he’s at your beck and call. Ready to make you something to eat, ready to give you the medicine, always willing to provide cuddles and kisses. He will even softly sing to you if you need help falling asleep. Although for now it seems you’re happy enough to sleepily watch him and listen to his soothing voice. It makes Joshua's chest tight, the way you trust him, how lovingly you watch him, how you seem to thrive just because he’s near. Compared to when he spoke to you on the phone… Yeah, he’s not leaving the bedroom until you’re well.
Jun ❧ Jun is stubborn. You can insist, you can threaten him, you can plead with him to leave before he gets sick too but he won’t. He’s going to nurse you back to health just like you’d do for him. He wants to show off how well he can care for you - like cook you delicious meals. Only the nausea makes it hard to enjoy them. Again, though, he is stubborn and he will figure it out. There are other ways he can prove himself to be the best boyfriend. He can tell you’re as disappointed as he is that his cooking isn’t helping, but cheering you up is his other specialty. Never in his life did he expect he’d wake up his partner for food and pills by meowing in their face, but here he is. And if it gets you to move, to smile, to kiss his cheek, he’ll keep doing it. He doesn’t act cute too often for you, which makes these moments rare. It makes him shy, but it brings life back into your eyes. If you’re so tired and incoherent that you can only have full conversation in the cat language with Jun, so be it. His heart might be a little closer to bursting with every soft meow from your lips, but he’s stubborn. He’ll make it until you’re healthy.
Soonyoung ❧ You smile through the pain, fondly. Soonyoung is trying to be quiet but you’re too sensitive right now. He lists off all your symptoms to his mother on the phone and asks what could help. He asks for recipes, tips. You might be hyperaware of every sound, but you do end up falling asleep, his voice a distant lullaby. When you wake up, there’s a bowl of fruit cut into small pieces and small piles of various pills - medicine and vitamins, your boyfriend explains, hugging you tightly. He asks if you feel like eating, and then encourages you to try the fruit anyway. He starts telling you a story, but only continues for every little piece you eat. His joy at his idea working as he imagined makes you smile too. He goes through all of his mother’s suggestions at once. There’s a bag of frozen veggies on your forehead and more, making you look ridiculous. Some of it is working, some of it not. Soonyoung is trying to cook though, so that’s far more concerning. Love only does so much for a meal. When he asks if you think delivery will work as well as a home-cooked meal, you reassure him any healing you do will be thanks to the fruit he cut for you.
Wonwoo ❧ He closes the blinds and pulls the curtains closed as well. Despite the midday sun’s best attempts, the room is dark. Wonwoo returns your smile, but still checks if there’s anything more he can do. He pushes the hair away from your face and pulls the blanket all the way to your chin. A pointless action, really, when you just sneak your hand out to hold his. He must admit you’re quite cute when the sickness makes you this needy. He expects you to ask him to stay when everything is prepared and he has yet to decide if he’ll agree straight away or tease you first. His own necessities are ready - his phone, book, console, anything he might need to entertain himself while he keeps you company and serves as your personal heater. He puts the medicine, already separated into individual doses, and water on the bedside table. He’ll order food later, having already learned the hard way you feel better with him close instead of trying to burn down the kitchen. You’re already half asleep when Wonwoo brings some snacks, so it makes the choice easy when you reach for him - silently he stays.
Jihoon ❧ It’s not the first time he’s grateful to be used to sleep deprivation, but it might be the first time he doesn’t feel any bitterness towards the fact. This once, Jihoon only feels bitter towards the AC in your office and the frailty of the human body. He can’t make out your face in the complete darkness, but the dark bags under your reddish eyes and the lethargy so unlike you haunt him still. His hand moves with your every raspy breath, following the movement of your chest. His legs have gone numb a long time ago, but he refuses to get up from the floor. If you turn away, then he’ll consider getting on the bed, but for the time being, he needs to stay here. If you wake up and want to hold his hand, he needs to be ready. If you’re too weak and too in pain to wait until the morning for the medicine, he needs to be ready. You stir in your sleep and he isn’t ready for the pained noise you make, your sleep disturbed by discomfort. So Jihoon starts humming a slow, comforting melody. It must be an instinct that your body relaxes immediately.
Minghao ❧ It’s nothing short of a herculean task to keep you in bed, especially when you’re sticky with sweat and feel like you’re boiling alive. The only thing that helps, Minghao discovered, is his voice. So he reads to you. He needs to keep at it at least until the latest dose of pills starts working. You squirm and whimper much less, reassured by his soothing presence. His voice is calm; his whole demeanor is. It’s not like he needs to freak out for you to know he’s worried. First he helps you feel more comfortable by gently cleaning your face with a cold wet towel. Then you gladly snuggle into his side. He holds the book open with one hand and the other he uses to gently massage your sore shoulder. You groan softly whenever he applies more pressure. You insist it helps though, and seeing as you like to lay on your side, he’s glad to help to make it bearable. He’ll continue until the fever subsides and the pain eases with it. He knows you’ll ask him to continue reading to you even then, and maybe he will if you’re good.
Mingyu ❧ His lips are better and more reliable than any thermometer. Mingyu can tell by a forehead kiss alone that you’re a bit feverish, and pouts when you don’t trust him. Like a machine would know your body better than him. When you wake up, it’s morning already. You don’t remember falling asleep, but you’re drenched with cold sweat and near delirious with fever. Your boyfriend diligently helps you sit up and take the medicine he has prepared already - after forcing you to eat a few crackers so the medicine doesn’t upset your stomach. He calls your boss for you after making sure you’re asleep again, having already turned off your alarm. He opens the window and cuddles you under the blanket to make up for the cold air. He knows you won’t like it, so he tries to make up for the necessary evil. He will clean up later when your sleep is deeper - he doesn’t want you to feel like you’re behind on chores. Every bitterness he makes up for with sweetness, anything you crave. His arms are opened for you, his lips always available. Mingyu isn’t afraid of getting sick himself if it means being there for you.
Seokmin ❧ He’s at a loss for words, so he just smiles and nods. You don’t seem to mind, babbling on, sulkily, about why urchins would be cute pets, about the little hats you’d put on them. Seokmin knows better than to argue with you when you’re sick. The last thing he wants to do is to make you upset. He suggests a miniature of his whale hat and he finally gets to see you smile. You squirm in excitement at finally being heard, so he has to remind you to stay still. Your nose is all red and cracked, rubbed raw by the dozens of tissues. He helps you apply lotion on it now that it seems like your nose stopped running. You finally settle when he promises he’ll figure out a way to get all the small hats you came up with, even though you’ll forget about your great plans for your army of urchins once you take a nap. He’ll write it down later, however, to laugh about it with you when you’re feeling well again. The list is ever growing. Naming your future pets misspelled names of his friends. Deep frying ice cream… Maybe he’ll try that one with you as a celebration when you beat the sickness.
Seungkwan ❧ He tsks again and immediately follows up with an apology in a much softer tone when you wince in pain. Seungkwan might have underestimated how sick you were and now he blames himself for it, but then again you sounded fine on the phone. You’re anything but fine, actually, and he drops the spoon back into the bowl in defeat. The silver lining is that all the three meals you can hold down are simple enough for him to prepare. What’s worse is that you’re eating nowhere near enough to get your strength back. He pleads with you for just five more spoons, just that. You look like he’s forcing the food down your throat. Four and the vitamins, then. It’s a tough bargain, but he wins eventually. For every spoon he makes sure to kiss and praise you, slipping the vitamin pills one by one on the top of each bite to be efficient. You seem like you’ll fall right asleep once he lets you lie down. He still isn’t satisfied with you not finishing your meal, but he knows you’re trying. Seungkwan remains sitting on the bed, watching over you until you wake up.
Vernon ❧ Nothing really makes sense but Vernon’s voice. The world must be spinning at a breakneck speed, but you’re well anchored with your head on his lap. He knew it was bad when you asked if he could stay somewhere else, and so he’s glad he came. Just like anything else, getting better is a process made easy if you follow instructions, and he will make sure you do. He keeps track of it for you, because he isn’t even sure if you realize it’s been hours since he came and it’s already dark outside. And you’re not complaining that you don’t understand what he’s saying at all - which he does on purpose to test you. So he asks you a trick question, you’d pick the bear over me right?, and laughs when you happily hum a yes. Maybe he should take some videos of you to laugh at later. You’d appreciate it you too, he thinks. But he really can’t when you look so pathetic, curled to stay as close to him as you can. Vernon is really fine with it even if it’s inconvenient. Even if you don’t really listen to him. It helps him sort out the mess in his head to just keep rambling. If you overhear and remember, that’s also fine. Everything is okay if it’s you.
Chan ❧ It’s not funny when you tell him that the flowers look half-dead just like you. Not funny at all, and he reminds you that you’re just suffering from a bad cold - you’re not dying. You muster your remaining strength to smile and reassure him that indeed, you’ll be fine. He puts the flowers next to your bed. They no longer carry scent so they don’t overwhelm your senses and you know that’s what Chan was going for. Despite your joke, they’re still very beautiful. You thank him for them when he comes back with soup, feeding you spoon after spoon while doing his best to pretend like you’re on a first date, getting to know each other. The fever makes it easier to fall for the illusion, but you know the love is real. Acting like he’s pulling out a box of chocolates, Chan pops the medicine into your hand. He treats tucking you in after you take them like you’re parting in front of your door, settling for a chaste kiss to your forehead. He stays until you fall asleep, as if waiting for you to disappear into the safety of your home.
#seventeen reactions#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#svt reactions#svthub#svt scenarios#svt fluff#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#fluff
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These next three days are going to be hell. That’s what Toji tells himself at least. You just left on a trip to your family to celebrate your father’s birthday, and Toji didn’t want to go (your father isn’t fond of him), so you left him to watch Megumi.
That means no work, no going to hang out with Shiu, and no gambling, unless he brings the kid. But he doesn’t want to bring Megumi, imagine the looks he’d get! Baby carrier around his body to press the kid against him and keep him close, backpack of baby supplies on his back, he’d be pretty easy to detect while working, and everyone would stare in public!
The first day, he tries just staying in, but to his dread, he forgot to buy formula when shopping, so he has to go to the store. He has to search for a how-to on the baby wrap carrier, and stares at himself for a moment. He thinks he looks funny. A scary man with a dumb-looking baby (Megumi looks just like he did as a baby).
He gets to the store and walks to the baby aisle, grabbing the formula and a spare bottle since he doesn’t remember if one is clean yet. He gets looks from other moms in the aisle and glares at them, daring them to say something.
Toji stops to look at clothes, refusing to admit to himself that he softened up a bit imagining Megumi in the cute little outfits. A blue shirt with bunnies on it, matching shorts attached, and a little hat to keep his head warm. A green onesie with a hood to make the baby a dinosaur. A white shirt with two dogs cuddling, cargo shorts to match. A blue onesie with sharks.
He can’t keep his eyes off of them, so he grabs one of each in Megumi’s size, and one of each in a larger size just in case the baby grows too fast. He double checks that he got what he originally came for, then goes to the self checkout.
When he gets home, he feeds the now-fussy kid, and changes his diaper. He looks at the outfit with bunnies, and puts it on the boy.
“Smile for mommy,” Toji says, only because the kid won’t remember and you’re not around to catch it. He photographs the baby and sends it to you, smirking as you heart the image.
“Guess she found a new lock screen, kiddo. I did good.” He decides to call Shiu over and watch some sports game to somewhat gamble without exposing the kid to smokers and drinkers, as well as loud noises and germs.
“Okay, if they lose, I’ll take that stupid job next week.”
“And if my team loses?” Shiu smirks at the sight of Toji holding Megumi so gently.
“You have to babysit unpaid for the next five times.”
“Deal.”
Toji’s team won, much to Shiu’s dismay, and the two say their goodbyes and Shiu leaves. Toji puts Megumi to bed and lays down. It’s oddly quiet without you. He hasn’t had this silence in so long. He decides to ignore it and sleep.
The next two days are pretty uneventful, he doesn’t go out much, not out of embarrassment anymore, but he’s convinced Megumi will get sick.
You come home in the early hours of the morning, Toji’s loud snores bring your eyes to the couch, your son on his chest, sleeping just like his father. You grin and notice how the house isn’t a mess. Dishes are done, laundry put away, is that a new outfit on Megumi? You smile more. You knew Toji could do it.
Masterlist
#zero posting twice in a day?!?!?#jjk#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fluff#toji fushiguro fluff#jjk toji fushiguro#toji fluff#toji and megumi#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#fushiguro toji#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x reader#megumi fluff#fushiguro megumi#megumi fushiguro#megumi fushiguro fluff#babygumi
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slimepilling tumblr users one day at a time
feel like all of tumblr needs to watch this 5min yard clip
[00:51:53]
#ladies and germs in the wake of seth evermans passing i present to thee a new bald tumblr guy.#fr though that guy. enigma. we are all obsessed with him.#hes so abnormally normal.#he has a just barely detectable tumblr vocabulary that drives me fucking insane even after i learn he is an ex tumblrina.#hes not real 2 me. i need him disected when he passes on to the great beyond.#the yard#r#slimeirl#geniunelly though take it from someone who hates podcasts. like cannot stand them.#i prefer music as background noise. over anything#but the yard is just guys. telling stories around a campfire. and that exact setting and vibe itches my brain#so i find myself putting it on for game backgorund noise. its perfect. rarely do the topics get in depth.#like if you check out for five minutes and your brain coasts back in theres nothing lost.#theyve traversed 5 equally worthless topics in the time you havent been psying sttention#nd when you do pay attention its pretty much just 4 guys min-maxing banter . like theyre constantly racing to make jokes#exceot theyre actually funny and feels very natural. they have extreme chemistry . i could ramble for hours.
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Traditions
Basketball player geto suguru x reader. fluffy fluff. mostly geto's pov. pre-relationship-relationship. oblivious reader. suguru is down bad. minimal use of yn. satoru's nameless gf. connected with my other fic.
It was a stupid new tradition, that an even stupider idiot started. Suguru groaned inwardly in exasperation as he stared at the court. Satoru and Choso were going toe to toe against each other based on some dumb bet they had going.
While he sat on the sidelines wondering if giving or should he say loaning his jersey to some girl was really worth the hassle in order to keep up appearances.
But the again even their homicidal maniac of a Captain managed to rope a poor unsuspecting girl to wear his jersey.
Finding a girl would be no problem, they would line up in cues if word got out that he was considering it. It was the expectations they would have after. Most likely they’d expect him to ask them out or be his girlfriend which made him cringe.
That made him sound like an ass, but it was the truth.
But telling them right out on what he wanted would just open up another set of problems.
Gojo told him to find a girl he actually liked, to which he scoffed at. Its been a good while since a girl piqued his interest. “Come on, Suguruu” He spoke with that annoying drawl.”There has to be at least one girl”
His best friend’s usually dark glasses have been rose tinted ever since he met his girlfriend. Hes been practically floating on air. Its was still a mystery to Suguru how his girlfriend manages to tolerate such a menace to society but then again that’s like the pot calling the kettle black.
Still, he was happy for Satoru.
“Yo Suguru, heads up!” Choso’s warning floated through the air, along with the ball. It flew over Suguru’s head to the bleachers. His head turn to follow its course. He expected to hear multiple loud thumping noises as it bounces through the bleachers, strangely enough he only heard a soft thump and a startled gasp.
“Shit, my bad!” Satoru grimaced, voice apologetic. Sugurus eyes landed on a girl he recognized as Shoko’s and Satoru’s girlfriend’s friend. He thought you were pretty but you barely said two words to him so he never paid you much attention. Though currently Shoko and Gojo’s girlfriend were nowhere to be seen. All he could see was you crouching on the ground to pick up something- a book it seems.
A hand dragged Suguru up the bleachers, leading him up to the row where you were currently brushing off the book. Echoes of their footsteps made you glance up at them with an inscrutable expression.
Satoru spoke up first, his voice all high pitched and remorseful, dragging a embarrassed hand through his hair, “Forgive me, y/n! I didn’t know my own strength.”
His half hearted apology makes Sugurus eyes roll. Satoru’s looks and wealth makes him very popular, plus his basketball skills makes every girl cheer for him but sometimes his personality leaves a lot to be desired.
Suguru clamped a hand over Satoru’s shoulder before shooting you a charming smile. “I apologize for my friends lack of manners. Are you okay, sweetheart?”
A chill ran up his spine, making Suguru confused. He caught your gaze and he freezes up. Your glare could melt cement walls, you looked at him like he killed your dog.
What the hell?
“Here let me help you up.”He pushed forward, his tone dripping with honey as he offered you a hand. In spite of his efforts you merely stared at his hand with distaste as if he carried every germ in the world.
The fuck?
You visibly veered away from his body making Suguru drop his hand in embarrassment.
He heard someone snicker, making him turn and see Satoru shaking beside him, teary eyed and covering a hand over his mouth. Ha ha very funny.
There must be something in the air today. This never happens, not to him. Suguru was more popular than Satoru; with his charming smile, princely soft spoken demeanor and gentlemanly gestures. Girls swoon with just a smile from him, yet you looked at him like he was a cockroach who crawled into the wrong kitchen.
You stood up, disgruntled. “You made the spine crack.”
“Who’s spine cracked?” Satoru asked, confusion lacing his voice.
His response made you sighed in frustration at thankfully the both of them. “My book and now its ruined.”
Suguru began to open his mouth to apologize but closed them at the last second because first why should he apologize, this wasn’t even his fault? and second who cares than much about a book sine? You could still read it regardless and why were you even reading in a basketball stadium?
Seeing both of their skeptic faces, you sighed in resignation, not bothering to explain the importance of your book spine, “Whatever, I’m gonna go. Tell Shoko that I’m leaving first.”
You walked away grumbling, hugging the book to your chest.
Leaving Suguru dumbfounded and Satoru’s back hunching, hands on his stomach as he laughed.
“I can’t believe she just-”
“Shut up.”
“And the way she stared at you? pfft!”
“Shut up or Ill punch you.”
“Here let me help you up~”
“Satoru!”
Days passed and Suguru eventually hears from Satoru’s girlfriend about you.
“Oh? y/n, she loves love books. She’s a history major you know. So its not a surprise that she reacted that way.”
“The spine? Breaking it is damaging so it won’t last long. She just really treasures them.” “
But I swear she’s actually really nice and sweet!”
That’s what she said, but there was nothing nice about you completely ignoring his existence when you pass by each other at the corridor, you’re nose in a book. Or how you immediately stand up to leave not even sparing him a glance whenever Suguru shows up in the same room as you, which was often ever since your friend started dating Satoru.
He couldn’t deny that you were getting under his skin. He wasn’t even the one who threw the god damn ball yet he was getting the brunt of your anger- if he could even call it that when you don’t exactly speak to him to showcase said anger.
You were a mystery. But what frustrated him the most is why did it bother him so much? was it his ego? finally getting turned down by a girl? or that he couldn’t figure you out? he didn’t know.
The incident at the lunch hall was the last straw for Suguru, though not in the way he expected.
There was only one last piece of that cheesecake Satoru adores, and while Suguru doesn’t care much for sweets, he usually gets it for Satoru.
He reached out to take the last plate before he noticed another smaller hand reach for it simultaneously. His eyebrows raised in surprised as he caught the pleading expression on your face; eyebrows slightly scrunched, lips curved into a cute pout and bright eyes directed right at the cheesecake.
He blinked. You were actually really cute.
As if noticing him for the first time, you glanced at him. Recognition flitted through your eyes making you drop your hand as you looked away from him. “Sorry.”
“No. Here,”Suguru picked up the cheesecake plate and placed it on your tray. “Its all yours.”
“Really?” You stared at the cheesecake like he gave you a thousand dollar necklace and not a simple dessert.
The satisfied expression that danced on your face made Suguru’s stomach flip. Weird.
Then you glanced up at him, eyes all soft, giving him a small smile before dashing away but not before you managed to mumble your thanks, “Thanks, Geto.”
Shit, you were really cute.
—
Suguru tucked the heavy book under his arm as he began his search for you around the University. Texting Shoko would have been quicker, but he didn’t wanna give her any wrong ideas.
Not that there was something more to this gesture. Nope, he just wants to clear the air you know. A friendly gesture. After all the both of you are gonna see each other a lot whether you liked it or not. Definitely, not because he wanted to see you smile again. Yep, definitely not that
After 30 minutes of wandering around your usual hangouts. He gave up and texted Satoru’s girlfriend, the better option of the two. She replied a minute later.
“Hey Geto! Ya, she’s actually here at my dorm. Do you need something?”
He didn’t bother replying, and just started making his way dorm.
Suguru knocked on the door and after a moment, Satoru’s girlfriend came into view with her eyebrows raised.”Oh, you actually came here.”
He shrugged as nonchalantly as possible, “Yeah, I just need to give y/n something. Its nothing important.”
She hummed mischievously, a knowing glint in her eyes, “Hmm, sure sure. Come in.”
She opened the door wider to make space for Geto’s larger frame. His eyes land on your form on the sofa leaning on the arm rest with your legs propped, a duvet covering your thighs. You’re shoulders were shaking as you laughed quietly at some video on your phone.
For once your nose wasn’t in a book. He noted the popcorn and the paused movie on the TV screen.
“I didn’t mean to ruin your plans.” He apologized sheepishly.
Gojo’s girl just waved him off, “oh shush, its no big deal.”
Upon hearing Geto’s voice you looked towards the source, surprise flitted throughout your face then confusion as your lips parted a fraction. “Geto? What are you doing here?”
“Uh..” Its been awhile since he’s been rendered speechless and embarrassed. He has always had some smooth line that bordered between flirty and friendly, yet your curious gaze was enough make his head into a jumbled mess.
The sound of someone clearing their throat snapped some sense back into him. Gojo’s girlfriend opened the door before grinning mischievously, “Ill go get some soda. Back in a jiff!”
Silence enveloped the room, indicating it was just the two of you now.
Geto got some of his confidence and composure back as he pointed on the other end of the couch. “Can I sit?”
“Of course.” You answered, still looking perplexed.
Finally, he sat down and pulled the large book from under his arm and handed it to you.“Here, as an apology for breaking the spine of your other book.” He started, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so inconsiderate the other day. "
You stared silently at the hard bound copy of the same book that had its spine cracked. It was a limited edition copy that Suguru managed to track down with Satoru’s help. It did come with the price of Satoru’s incessant teasing.
“Well well ~ all this effort for a girl who was mean to you. You must be a masochist, Suguruu.”
“You got me a very expensive limited edition hard bound copy of one of my favorite books?” You breathed, voice laced with astonishment.
Expensive? Suguru didn’t know. He bought it without looking at the price. He doubted he would’ve care about the price either way.
“Satoru’s girlfriend told how much it meant to you.” Suguru gave.
Its was silent for a moment. Anticipation eating at Sugurus nerves for your reaction. Were you gonna through it at his face or-
He was pulled out of his thoughts when a full blown breathtaking smile bloomed on your face making Sugurus eyes widen. It was like time slowed down, the rest of the world was blur and all he could see was you. Your eyes sparkled with so much joy, it was contagious the even he couldn’t help but smile bit.
“Thank you so much, Geto.” You took the book from his hands.
Relief and satisfaction ran through his veins, making him relax into the couch. Your smile. He doesn’t think his gonna get the image off his mind anytime soon.
“Does that mean your not mad at me anymore?” He asked, smiling softly.
You tilted your head in confusion. “Mad? What do you mean?”
Suguru’s face mirrored yours, “Weren’t you avoiding me because you were mad we cracked the spine of your book?”
A pretty blush rose up your cheeks that Suguru strangely wanted to caress but he held back the urge. Your shoulders shrank as you avoided his gaze. “Not exactly..”
Suguru quirked an eyebrow as as he absentmindedly tucked a stray hair away from your face, “Tell me.”
His touch rose goosebumps on your skin which his observant eyes didn’t miss. You bit your lip in contemplation before letting out a big exhale, “I wasn’t avoiding because I was mad. I was avoiding you because I was embarrassed.”
“Of what?”
You looked at him incredulously, “What do you mean what? Don’t you remember the way I overreacted about my book?”
The memory of her staring at him like he killed her dog flashed through his mind making him chuckle. “I do recall someone looking at me like I was the scum beneath her feet.”
She groaned and knocked her head against the cover of the book, hiding her face from him, “I was so embarrassed! I realized I overreacted about 10 minutes after it happened. I know people don’t see things the way I do.”
So that was the reason of your constant wariness of him. He got so frustrated over nothing then. “You could have just talked to me, you know.”
“I know, but I barely spoke to you before and I didn’t know how to even begin a conversation with you. Talking to Satoru was a lot easier since I’ve been around him more-”
“Wait, you’ve talk to Satoru?” And why did it irked him that the both of your were at a first name basis.
“Yeah, A day after it happened.” You said innocently.
That little fucker. He watched Suguru go crazy over what happened and despite knowing the real reason, he just let Suguru grow into his frustration. He was gonna kill Gojo.
“Ah.”
After a beat you spoke, “Are you mad?”
“No. Not at you at least.”
“Oh, okay.” A bit of silence before you continued, “I really am sorry though, and you even bought me this book- I mean you weren’t even the one who tossed the ball.”
He wanted to be in your good graces but he wasn’t ready to admit why. A ghost of a smile formed on his lips. “Don’t apologize, please. To you, your books are precious and its normal to feel angry or sad about things that matter to you.”
Your lips parted a bit at his words before giving him a small timid smile, “Thanks, Geto.”
“Suguru.”
“What?”
“Call me Suguru. You’re on a first name basis with Satoru, its only fair.” He said in a matter of a factually.
Hesitation laced your features, “But we barely know each other.”
Suguru mouth tipped wickedly, “So if we get to know each other better you’ll call me by my name?”
“I..” You looked like you were balancing the pros and cons in your head. “I guess? I mean that’s how it usually goes.”
“I can work with that.”
—
A few weeks after the little mishap. Suguru and you built a steady friendship. You were no longer ignoring him with you see him along the hall. In fact you guys often walk together cause the both of you were coincidentally going the same way. During lunch, you constantly grow surprised when Suguru suddenly starts discussing about a book you like, and you’re too invested in the conversation to ask why his sudden interest in books.
You were so fascinating to him for some reason and he wanted to get even closer.
He learned a lot about your odd quirks and interest over time like how you like reading and walking at the same time. It was both endearing and a walking hazard.
“Stop.”
You stopped abruptly, pulling the book away.
“Look down.”
And you did, only to see that you were mere inches from crashing into a trashcan, “That wasn’t here yesterday.”
You turned to see Sugurus smirking face, amusement dancing in his eyes. “That’s because you were walking from another direction yesterday.”
“No way. I was not.”
A laugh crept up Sugurus throat, “Yes, you were and you didn’t notice but you knocked down an acapella group yesterday.”
“You’re hilarious, Geto.” You rolled your eyes.
The sound of his last name made him narrow his eyes. “Stop it with the Geto already.”
It was your turn to laugh at his annoyance, the sound of your laugh so light and bright like wind chimes. Your pretty eyes shining with mirth. Why was he annoyed again?
That’s another thing he realized, you were always pretty he knew that. But somehow you got even more beautiful. It was distracting to say the least. Especially when you talk about something you love and you get that sparkle in you eyes. God, he could stare and listen to you for hours. He was turning into such a sap and he wasn’t even sure he wanted to stop it.
—
“Now that’s just wrong.” You grimaced as you watched the gory scene on screen. Your cute expression made Suguru chuckle.
The both of you were watching a documentary on Greek history, specifically the great wars. It was for your paper but Suguru insisted he didn’t mind watching it with you. Though he knew it was just a lame excuse to hangout with you.
The urge to see you all the time got stronger and stronger by the day and he got tired of trying push it away. He had it bad, real bad.
He glanced at you so focused on the movie that he doubts you know about his mushy feelings about you due to your noted obliviousness.
“Can you pass me the popcorn, Geto?” You absentmindedly asked him. Your pajama clad legs were propped on his lap with his arm draped over it to pull you close.
It was cozy and intimate. His chest tingled with satisfaction knowing that you were comfortable enough around to initiate contact like this. Sharing your warmth with his.
He handed you the popcorn. “Here you go, pretty.”
You noticeably blush at the nickname, “Thanks, Geto.”
He’s been calling you cute nicknames all the time these days and you showed no indication of stopping him. The only thing that plagues him is you still calling him by his last name. That has got to go.
—-
“What are you looking for exactly?” Suguru heard holler you from the living room.
He was currently rifling through his closet.“Something important.”
Satoru invited everyone out to eat and the both of you were on the way there when Suguru remembered he forgot something in his dorm room.
Found it. He grabbed the shirt and hid it behind him as he made his way back to you.
“Did you find it?”
“Yep.”
He casually sat down at one of the armrests of his sofa which made you quirk a questioning eyebrow. “Aren’t we gonna go?”
“In a minute. I wanted to ask you something first.” Hopefully you didn’t catch the slightly nervous tone st the end of his sentence.
“Okay..?”
“Come here, princess.” He smiled reassuringly as he pulled closer to him, finding yourself in between his legs. Even sitting down, he was still at eye level to you. He really liked how taller he was than you were. The close proximity made that cute blush that Suguru adores appear.
“Are you coming to the game on friday?”
You tilted you head, clearly it wasn’t the question you were expecting, “Of course, what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t show up to support you guys?”
“Good.” He took out the shirt from behind him. “Do you mind wearing this for me?”
You stared at the jersey on his hand with the word Geto along with his player number printed in a big bold font at the back. Geto watched as surprise, excitement then confusion passed through your face.
“Wha-why?” You sputtered. “Shouldn’t you be giving this to a girl you like or something?”
Suguru chuckled and stared at you with exasperated fondness. You were adorable and oblivious as hell. “I am giving it to a girl I like. And right now I’m just hoping she’ll say yes.”
After a second, it seemed you put two and two together. Your eyes met his.
“You like me?”
“I thought you knew.” He teased, smirking .
“How would I know that?!”
“I wasn’t exactly hiding it.”
“You didn’t exactly tell me either!” You exclaimed, getting a bit worked up.
Sugurus smile widened into a grin as he rests his forehead on yours, “Then let me tell you now.”
He took in a deep breathe, next words filled with warmth. “I like you, y/n. More than you know.”
The heat of your cheeks radiated from your face as Suguru nudged your nose with his before pulling away. “I don’t mind telling you that a couple more times if you want.”
When you didn’t answer Suguru did just that, “I like you. I like you a lot. For a while now actually-”
You cut him of by covering his mouth with your hands, “I get it!”
Suguru laughed beneath your hands before pulling them down. “So what do you say? You don’t have to of course if you don’t want to its-”
“I do! I do want to!” You blurted out hastily, mortification on your face at your admission. While Suguru could barely contain his happiness.
“You do?”Still Suguru couldn’t help but tease you.
You barely met his eyes as you spoke, “I do. Its just- I didn’t know you liked me that way and this caught me by surprised.”
A laughed escaped Sugurus throat as he put the jersey down and pulled you flushed against his chest, tucking his head on your neck with his hands finding a home on your waist. “You’re so adorable you know that?”
“Stop that!” You groaned.
“I can’t.”
Slowly, you relaxed into his hold as you wrapped yours arms around his neck, leaning your head on his. A comfortable silence wrapped around you two as you basked in the warmth of the moment.
Suguru breathed in your scent, holding you tightly like he didn’t want to let go. His body all warm and tingly
The moment was shattered when Suguru’s ringtone blasted in the room. He sighed grimly as he reluctantly pulled away from you, opening his phone. “Its Satoru wondering where we are.” He sighed heavily again, “We should get going.”
Before you could say anything, he stood up, handed you the jersey then lead you towards the door.
You tugged at his hand, “Suguru, wait.”
The sound of his name on your tongue made him turn back abruptly, “What did you say?”
You gave him a shy smile, “I like you too, Suguru.”
Suguru’s eyes widened as his heart soared. The world turned blurry once again and all he could see was you. A knot of emotion lodged in his throat. Damn, he didn’t think he’d be this affected by your words. He groaned and threw his head back at the door, voice hoarse as he spoke, “You don’t know what you do to me, princess.”
You intertwined your fingers with his as you grinned, looking so pretty it hurt. “I have a pretty good idea.”
Maybe, It wasn’t such a stupid tradition. After all it led him to you.
#jjk gojo#fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen#fluff#jjk x reader#love#getou suguru x reader#geto suguru fluff#gojo satoru#geto suguru#jjk suguru#jujutsu kaisen suguru#suguru geto#getou suguru#geto#geto suguru fanfiction#sugusato#geto x reader#geto x you#geto x y/n#jjk geto#jujutsu geto#gojo#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x y/n#jjk
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Call Me Dad
Summary: You take Spencer home for Christmas.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: fluff, comfort
Warnings/Includes: use of Y/N, you have a mom and a dad, airplane
Word count: 8.7k
a/n: i literally wrote this dinner the summer and just remembered it lmaooo NOT PROOF READ
Spencer and you have been dating for six blissful months. You are his first girlfriend at 25 years old, and while he is still anxious he could do something wrong, you prove time and time again that he has nothing to worry about. You've already told him you love him, and he treasures the way you feel. He hasn't returned the sentiment yet, but you're not upset about it. You understand that he needs his time, and you're more than willing to give it to him.
With Christmas approaching, you ask him to come home with you for the holidays. His mom is on a Caribbean cruise with her residents and caretakers, and you can't stand the idea of him being alone during this special time of year. Spencer hesitates at first. Memories of his dad leaving him when he was young, combined with his mom not often being in a state to parent, have left him unsure of how to navigate familial interactions.
Despite his nerves, Spencer accepts your invitation, knowing how much this means to you and wanting to be a part of your world. He's never been good around parents, but he knows this is a chance to experience something he's always wanted: a warm, loving holiday with someone who truly cares for him.
Spencer's anxiety was at an all-time high as the two of you made your way through the bustling airport. You could feel the tension radiating off him, his shoulders hunched and eyes darting around as if he were expecting something catastrophic to happen at any moment. His usual calm demeanor had all but disappeared, replaced by a bundle of nerves that made him appear more like a skittish cat than the brilliant profiler he was.
Recognizing his unease, you took the lead, gently guiding him through the labyrinthine halls and throngs of people. Your hand wrapped securely around his, you navigated the chaos of the airport with practiced ease. Spencer was content to let you take charge, grateful for your steady presence beside him.
Once you reached security, Spencer fumbled with his belongings, his fingers trembling slightly as he removed his shoes and placed them into the plastic bins. The noise and commotion seemed to blur together, creating a cacophony that only heightened his nerves.
"It's okay," you whispered reassuringly, brushing your thumb over the back of his hand. "Just breathe. We'll be through this in no time."
He nodded, taking a deep breath and doing his best to focus on your calming words rather than the endless line of travelers. With you by his side, he managed to get through security and baggage checks without too much trouble, though he was visibly relieved when the ordeal was over.
As you settled into your seats on the plane, Spencer finally seemed to relax, even if just a little. The roar of the engines and the hum of people boarding around you faded into the background as he focused on the comfort of your presence. He clasped your hand tightly, resting it in his lap as if it were a security blanket.
Despite his well-documented aversion to germs, Spencer was willing to overlook the potential contamination of the airplane seat if it meant keeping you close. In truth, he needed something tangible to hold onto—something that reminded him he wasn't alone in this unfamiliar and slightly terrifying journey.
"I'll definitely need a hot shower once we arrive at the hotel," Spencer muttered with a half-smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
You chuckled softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Well, if that’s the price of getting to spend Christmas together, I think it's worth it. Besides, the hotel has great water pressure."
Spencer managed a genuine smile at that, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as the plane began to taxi down the runway. The steady thrum of the engines provided a soothing background noise, and he found himself focusing on the rhythmic sound of your breathing instead of the clamorous thoughts still circling in his mind.
As the plane ascended into the sky, Spencer gave your hand a gentle squeeze. He felt a warmth spreading through his chest, grateful for your unwavering support and the way you always seemed to know exactly what he needed.
The steady hum of the airplane engine and the gentle warmth of the cabin worked their magic on Spencer, lulling him into a deep sleep shortly after takeoff. The tension that had gripped him so tightly began to ebb away as his eyelids grew heavy, and soon he was slipping into a much-needed rest. His head rested comfortably against your shoulder, a soft snore escaping his lips as his breathing evened out. You watched him with a fond smile, glad to see him finally relax.
—
The flight seemed to pass in the blink of an eye as Spencer remained blissfully unaware of the turbulence or the occasional announcements crackling over the intercom. When the plane finally touched down, the jolt barely registered in his sleepy daze.
You gently nudged him awake, whispering, "Hey, sleepyhead. We've landed." He blinked groggily, trying to shake off the remnants of his nap as he stretched and rubbed his eyes under his glasses.
"Mmm," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "We're here already?"
You chuckled softly, helping him gather his belongings. "Yes, we are. Come on, let's get through the airport."
In his post-nap haze, Spencer moved almost on autopilot, following your lead as you navigated the bustling terminal. The world around him felt surreal, the bustling crowds and overhead announcements fading into a distant hum. He kept a firm hold on your hand, trusting you to guide him through the maze of travelers and luggage carts.
Picking up the rental car was a blur. Spencer watched as you handled the paperwork, his mind still foggy from sleep. He leaned against the counter, blinking slowly as if trying to process everything happening around him. Once the keys were in hand, you led him to the car, and he gratefully sank into the passenger seat.
"Why don’t you close your eyes for a bit while I drive us to the hotel?" you suggested, glancing over at him with a smile.
Spencer nodded, resting his head against the window. The rhythmic motion of the car soon lulled him back into a state of semi-consciousness, where he drifted in and out of sleep, vaguely aware of the passing scenery.
When you finally arrived at the hotel, Spencer was roused once more, his sleepy daze still clinging to him as you checked in and made your way to your room. He stretched as he stood in the elevator, trying to shake off the last vestiges of slumber.
Once inside the hotel room, Spencer looked around with bleary eyes, taking in the cozy atmosphere. "This looks nice," he mumbled, a hint of appreciation in his voice.
"It does," you agreed, dropping your bags and heading toward the bathroom. "Why don't you take that shower you were looking forward to? I'll unpack while you do."
Spencer nodded, grateful for the suggestion. The promise of a hot shower was too enticing to resist, and he quickly gathered his toiletries and a fresh change of clothes. As he stepped into the bathroom, the sound of the rushing water immediately filled the space, creating a soothing ambiance.
He let out a sigh of relief as he stepped under the showerhead, the water smoothing over him with an invigorating force that seemed to wash away the last remnants of travel fatigue. The hotel, as promised, had excellent water pressure, and Spencer couldn't help but revel in the sensation. He closed his eyes, letting the steam envelop him as he began to feel truly awake for the first time since they boarded the plane.
With a renewed sense of calm, Spencer finished his shower and emerged from the bathroom, feeling refreshed and ready to embrace whatever came next. He found you unpacking and couldn’t help but smile, appreciating the small but significant act of settling into this new space together.
"All clean?" you asked, glancing up from the suitcase with a knowing grin.
"Yes," Spencer replied, running a towel through his hair. "And you were right. The water pressure is fantastic."
You chuckled, walking over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Told you so. Now, are you ready to explore? I figured we could take a walk, get some fresh air, and maybe grab something to eat."
Spencer nodded, feeling more at ease than he had all day. "That sounds perfect," he said, slipping his hand into yours as you both headed out into the world beyond the hotel, eager to make the most of this special time together.
—
That night, Spencer found himself lying wide awake in the darkened hotel room, his mind racing with thoughts that refused to quiet down. The shadows danced across the ceiling, and the gentle hum of the air conditioning did little to soothe the anxious thrum of his heart. His anxieties swirled relentlessly, fueled by the thought of meeting your family for the first time.
He couldn't help but wonder what they would think of him. The prospect of meeting your parents was daunting enough, but what about your siblings? Did they have partners? How many people would he have to interact with? Spencer's mind spun with hypothetical scenarios, each one more nerve-wracking than the last. He feared making a poor impression or saying something that would betray his social awkwardness. Would they see him as the socially awkward genius he often felt like, or would they recognize the man you loved?
He turned slightly, glancing over at your sleeping form beside him. The moonlight filtering through the curtains cast a soft glow on your peaceful face, and Spencer felt a wave of gratitude wash over him. You looked so serene, so completely at ease, and he envied your ability to find rest so effortlessly. He couldn't help but feel a deep appreciation for your invitation to join him for the holidays. It was a significant gesture, a sign of trust and affection that meant more to him than he could easily express.
As he watched you sleep, he couldn't shake the guilt that crept in alongside his fears. You had been nothing but supportive and understanding since the day you met, always knowing how to ease his worries with a kind word or a gentle touch. And yet, here he was, plagued by doubts and insecurities. It felt unfair, especially when he knew how excited you were to introduce him to your family.
"If this family raised you," he mused to himself, "they couldn't be all bad." The thought lingered, providing a small comfort amid the turmoil of his mind. After all, if they were responsible for shaping the incredible person you had become, surely they possessed qualities worth admiring.
Spencer let out a soft sigh, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling once more. He tried to focus on the positives—the fact that you wanted him there with you, that you believed in him enough to introduce him to the people who mattered most. It was a gesture of acceptance, a sign that he had become an integral part of your life, and that alone was enough to make him feel a little braver.
In the quiet stillness of the room, he closed his eyes and tried to calm his racing thoughts. He reminded himself that he was not alone in this. You were there, right beside him, and that was more reassuring than anything else. As he listened to the gentle rhythm of your breathing, he slowly began to relax, the warmth of your presence wrapping around him like a comforting blanket.
—
The next morning, Spencer awoke to one of his favorite sights: you, comfortably nestled against the pillows, your hair tousled from sleep. The sun filtered gently through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You were sitting up with a book in your hands, your glasses slightly askew, an endearing nod to your dedication to the story that had captured your attention even this early in the day.
He watched you quietly for a moment, a soft smile spreading across his face as he took in the familiar scene. There was something immensely comforting about the way you immersed yourself in your book, completely absorbed in the world the author had crafted (he doesn’t know you’re reading smut). It was a reflection of the curiosity and passion that he admired so much in you, a trait that you both shared and often bonded over.
“Good morning,” he finally murmured, his voice still a bit husky from sleep.
You looked up from your book, your eyes brightening as they met his. “Morning, sunshine,” you replied with a playful grin. “I didn’t want to wake you. You seemed like you needed the rest.”
Spencer stretched, feeling the remnants of sleep ease out of his muscles. “I appreciate that,” he said, propping himself up on one elbow. “Didn’t sleep much at first, but I feel better now.”
You set your book aside, giving him your full attention. “Were you up worrying about today?”
He nodded, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “A little bit,” he admitted. “I couldn’t stop thinking about meeting your family. It’s kind of a big deal.”
You reached over, gently adjusting his hair, which had gone a bit wild during the night. “I get it. It is a big deal, but I promise it’s not as scary as it seems. They’re just people who love me, and they’ll love you too because of that.”
Spencer felt his heart swell at your words. Your unwavering confidence in him was like a balm to his nerves, calming the storm of anxiety that had plagued him. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Probably stay home and read all day,” you teased, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. “But you’re here with me, and that’s what matters.”
Spencer chuckled, feeling some of the tension lift from his shoulders. “True. I’d much rather be here with you than anywhere else.”
“Oh, just a little fantasy novel,” you replied, holding the book to your chest with a private smile. “Faeries, creatures, magic, the lot.”
Spencer raised an eyebrow, a look of genuine curiosity crossing his face. “Really? I didn’t know you were into fantasy.”
You shrugged playfully, a mischievous glint in your eye. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Doctor Reid. I have a soft spot for worlds where the impossible becomes possible.”
He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “I suppose that makes sense. You’ve always had a knack for finding magic in the mundane.”
You leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I think you’re the one who does that, Spencer. You make even the most ordinary things seem extraordinary.”
He felt a flush of warmth spread across his cheeks at your words. It was moments like these that reminded him of how lucky he was to have you in his life. Despite his initial hesitations, you had shown him a world full of wonder and possibility, much like the stories you loved to read.
As you both settled into the morning, Spencer felt a renewed sense of hope for the day ahead. He knew that with you by his side, he could face whatever challenges awaited him, including meeting your family. Your presence was a reminder that he was not alone in this journey, and that thought brought him more comfort than any reassurance ever could.
With a deep breath, Spencer pulled himself up to sit beside you, the two of you leaning against each other as you shared the quiet morning together. The world outside might have been bustling with holiday cheer, but inside this little bubble, it was just the two of you, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and understanding.
“Ready to start the day?” you asked, glancing over at him with a smile that made his heart flutter.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Spencer replied, feeling more confident than he had the night before. He was ready to embrace whatever the day had in store, knowing that he had you to guide him through it all.
And so, with a sense of excitement and a touch of nerves, Spencer prepared to meet your family, his heart full of hope and gratitude for the love that had brought him here.
—
As you turned onto your family's street, Spencer's fingers fidgeted nervously in his lap. The drive had been filled with light chatter and music from the radio, but now that you were only moments away from the meeting he had been anxiously anticipating, the familiar weight of worry began to settle back into his chest. He watched the rows of houses pass by, each one decorated with festive lights and wreaths that hinted at the warmth within.
When you pulled into the driveway of your childhood home, you noticed Spencer take a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the cozy-looking house adorned with strings of colorful Christmas lights. You could feel the slight tremor in his hand as you reached over to give it a reassuring squeeze.
Turning to him, you offered a soft smile, trying to ease his apprehension. "Spencer," you said gently, "are you sure you're ready for this? We can always take a few more minutes if you need to."
He met your gaze, the earnestness in your eyes helping to ground him. "I think so," he replied, though the edge of uncertainty in his voice was still present. "I mean, I've faced serial killers and the most dangerous criminals, but this... this is a different kind of pressure."
You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "I promise my family isn't as scary as a room full of unsubs."
He laughed softly, the sound easing some of the tension from his frame. "I know, but meeting the people who raised you... it's important. I just want to make a good impression."
"You will," you assured him, leaning over to brush a gentle kiss across his lips. "They'll love you just as much as I do. Besides, you've already made an amazing impression on me, and that's not an easy feat."
Spencer's smile widened, the warmth of your words settling comfortably around him. He took a moment to look at the house again, imagining the family inside who had shaped the person he cherished so deeply. The thought was daunting but also exciting in a way he hadn’t expected.
"Okay," he said with a renewed sense of determination, "let’s get inside."
"That's the spirit," you said, giving his hand one last squeeze before opening your door. Spencer followed suit, stepping out into the crisp morning air and taking in the sight of your family home, with its inviting front porch and the faint aroma of pine and cinnamon wafting from within.
Together, you made your way up the front steps, your fingers intertwined with his, a tangible reminder that he wasn't facing this moment alone. As you reached the door, you gave him a reassuring nod before ringing the bell, signaling the start of a holiday filled with new memories and possibilities.
The door swung open with a dramatic flair, revealing your sibling, Charlie, standing there with an expression of gleeful mischief painted across their face. "Y/N!" they exclaimed with a sing-song voice, their eyes gleaming with the thrill of having caught you red-handed. "I saw you kissing in the driveway!"
You sighed, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a small smile at Charlie's antics. "Charlie! You had sex in Mom and Dad's bed! Are we even?"
Charlie feigned shock, clutching their chest with mock indignation. "Lips are sealed," they said with a smirk, clearly amused by the little exchange. Then, their gaze shifted past you to the man standing beside you. "Who is this beautiful man?"
You couldn't help but chuckle at Charlie's dramatic introduction to Spencer. "This is Doctor Spencer Reid," you said, gesturing to him with a flourish as if presenting a prize. "I found him on the corner. Only $20 an hour, can you believe that?"
Spencer, who had been standing there looking slightly bewildered by the sibling banter, let out a nervous laugh. He adjusted his glasses, clearly unsure how to respond to the unexpected introduction. "Well, technically, it’s a little more than that, considering inflation and all," he said with a small smile, his awkward charm instantly endearing.
Charlie burst out laughing, their eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, he's a keeper, Y/N! I mean, you found a guy who's both handsome and economically savvy? What more could you ask for?"
You and Spencer both laughed, the tension easing from the room as Charlie's infectious energy lightened the mood. It was moments like these that made you grateful for having such a lively and supportive sibling, someone who could turn any situation into a moment of joy and laughter.
As you walked deeper into the house, the familiar warmth and coziness enveloped you both. The comforting scent of home, mixed with the aroma of freshly baked cookies, filled the air. Spencer hesitated slightly as he stepped inside, taking in the comforting chaos of your family home, and the subtle charm that only a loving household could offer.
Charlie led the way, beckoning you both into the living room where the sound of a football game played on the TV. The announcer's voice carried through the house, mingling with the occasional cheer from the fans in the stadium. The room was filled with soft, golden light from the fireplace, casting a warm glow over everything.
As you rounded the corner, you found your mom and other sibling, Finley, lounging on the couch with a bowl of popcorn in their lap. Their attention was momentarily focused on the game, but they quickly looked up as you entered, a wide grin spreading across their face.
"Hey! Look who finally decided to show up!" Finley called out, putting the popcorn aside and standing up to greet you. They wrapped you in a quick hug, squeezing you tightly as if to make up for lost time. You could feel the warmth of their embrace, the familiar scent of home that always brought a sense of comfort and belonging.
"It's so good to see you, Fin," you said, pulling back slightly to look at them. "I've missed this place."
Finley grinned, giving you a playful nudge. "Well, it's about time you came back. We’ve got a lot to catch up on."
Then, Finley turned their attention to Spencer, their expression friendly and curious. "And you must be Spencer," they said, smiling with genuine enthusiasm. "I've heard a lot about you. All good things, I promise."
Spencer returned the smile, trying to channel his best impression of confidence. “It’s nice to meet you, Finley,” he replied, feeling a little more at ease thanks to Finley's welcoming demeanor. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you too.”
Finley chuckled, a twinkle of mischief in their eyes. “All good things, I hope,” they teased, shooting a knowing glance at you.
You rolled your eyes playfully, feeling the warmth of the familial atmosphere settle around you. “Mostly good,” you teased back, “but I might have left out the parts about your questionable taste in movies.”
Finley gasped in mock offense, clutching their chest dramatically. “Hey, my taste in movies is impeccable! It’s just...unique.”
Your mom, who had been quietly observing the exchange with a smile, finally chimed in. “Don’t mind Finley, Spencer. They love to exaggerate. We’re just really glad you could join us for the holidays.”
Her voice was warm and welcoming, instantly putting Spencer at ease. He nodded, grateful for the kindness being extended to him. “Thank you for having me, Mrs. L/N. It’s nice to be here.”
“Please, call me Sandy,” she insisted with a wave of her hand. “We’re all family here, after all.”
Spencer nodded, feeling a small weight lift from his shoulders. Your mother’s acceptance was a reassuring start, and he couldn’t help but feel grateful for how natural this all seemed.
As you settled into the living room, Coconut, your dog, padded over, sniffing curiously at the newcomer. The dog’s tail wagged enthusiastically, thumping against the floor with each swing.
Spencer knelt down to greet Coconut, his fingers gently scratching behind the dog’s ears. “Hello, Coconut,” he said softly, his touch unsure at first but growing more confident as Coconut leaned into him, clearly enjoying the attention.
You smiled, watching the interaction with a fondness that only grew as Coconut plopped down at Spencer’s feet, making himself comfortable. “I think Coconut likes you,” you observed, giving Spencer an encouraging nod. “That’s a pretty high honor.”
Spencer chuckled, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease further. “I suppose that’s a good sign,” he replied, continuing to pet the dog as Coconut rolled over, demanding belly rubs.
Your mom settled back onto the couch, a cup of coffee in hand, her attention shifting between the game and the scene unfolding before her. “So, Spencer, do you follow football?” she asked, glancing over with genuine interest.
“Not extensively,” Spencer admitted, “but I know a bit about it. The strategies can be quite fascinating.”
Your mom nodded, pleased with his response. “Finley here is the real football fanatic. They make sure we’re watching all the big games.”
“Guilty as charged,” Finley said with a grin, tossing a popcorn kernel into their mouth. “But don’t worry, we’re not too intense about it. It’s more about enjoying the day together.”
You reached over and gave Spencer’s hand a reassuring squeeze, sensing that he was beginning to relax. “We’re just happy to have you here, Spence. Family is about spending time together, not about impressing anyone.”
Spencer nodded, the warmth of your words resonating with him. As he settled back into the couch, he realized that this was exactly what he had always imagined a family gathering to be: relaxed, full of laughter, and surrounded by people who cared for one another.
As the game continued, you and Spencer joined in the lighthearted banter and conversations that filled the room. It wasn’t long before he found himself genuinely enjoying the company, the initial nerves giving way to a sense of belonging that he hadn’t anticipated.
With Coconut snuggled at his feet and your hand in his, Spencer began to see that maybe, just maybe, this Christmas would be as magical as the ones he’d read about in stories.
“Did I hear my favorite child is back?” your dad teased as he walked in from the kitchen, a towel slung over his shoulder and a warm smile on his face. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and holiday spices trailed behind him, adding to the cozy atmosphere of the room.
"Dad!" you exclaimed, jumping up from the couch and hurrying over to give him a hug. "I've missed you!"
He enveloped you in a bear hug, squeezing tightly before holding you at arm’s length to get a good look at you. “You look great, kiddo. I was just thinking that the house feels complete now that you’re here.”
You laughed, feeling the genuine warmth of your dad's words. “It’s good to be home. And look, I even brought a guest!” You stepped aside to gesture toward Spencer, who was now standing a little uncertainly, unsure of what kind of greeting to expect.
Your dad turned his attention to Spencer, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Ah, you must be Spencer,” he said, striding over to shake his hand. “We’ve heard a lot about you, son. Welcome to the family.”
Spencer’s nerves eased slightly at the friendliness in your dad’s tone. He returned the handshake with a grateful nod. “Thank you, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you. And thank you for having me.”
Your dad waved off the formalities with a chuckle. “None of that ‘sir’ business. You can call me Bruce.” He turned to the rest of the room, saying, “Now that everyone’s here, we can finally get this holiday started right!”
"Already trying to win the Best Dad Award, huh?" Finley quipped, tossing a playful grin his way.
Your dad shrugged, feigning innocence. "Well, I’m just trying to stay ahead in the rankings. Gotta keep you kids on your toes."
“Don’t worry, Dad,” you said, shooting Finley a teasing glance. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. You’ve always been my favorite.”
Spencer watched the exchange with a small smile, feeling a sense of warmth at the easy banter. The rapport you had with your family was evident, and it was a relief to see how effortlessly you slipped back into the rhythm of home.
As your dad settled into the armchair by the fireplace, he picked up a steaming mug of coffee from the side table, taking a satisfied sip. “So, Spencer, are you ready for the full holiday experience? We’ve got quite the lineup of activities planned.”
“Oh, um, yes. Looking forward to it,” Spencer replied, attempting to match your dad’s enthusiasm while simultaneously scanning his memory for any relevant data on traditional holiday festivities.
“Don’t worry, Spence. He’s teasing,” you assured him, a playful smile spreading across your face. “We don’t do too much. A quick present exchange, some of Dad’s famous cooking, and a lot of drinking.”
Spencer chuckled, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. “That sounds like something I can handle,” he said, relaxing further into the cozy atmosphere of the living room.
“Just be prepared,” Finley added, shooting your dad a mischievous grin. “Dad’s cooking is legendary. He’ll try to send you home with a week’s worth of leftovers if you’re not careful.”
Your dad feigned indignation, placing a hand over his heart. “Hey, I take pride in my culinary skills. Besides, isn’t that what the holidays are for? Making sure everyone leaves with full bellies and fond memories.”
“That, and making sure we all drink enough eggnog to last us till next year,” you teased, giving your dad a playful nudge.
Your dad chuckled, raising his mug in a mock toast. “To family traditions, then. May they never fade.”
Spencer smiled, feeling the warmth of your family’s love and joy seep into his bones. He realized that the dynamics in this household were vastly different from the ones he had grown up with, but in the best possible way. Here, there was a sense of ease and openness that made him feel welcome, despite being the newcomer.
—
You and Spencer walked back to the hotel room hand in hand, the crisp evening air wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. After a casual dinner with your family, filled with laughter and easy conversation around the football game, Spencer seemed more relaxed than he had been earlier in the day.
As you entered the room, you couldn't help but tease him, “So, how do you feel? Were they as scary as you thought?”
Spencer chuckled, shaking his head as he slipped off his shoes and hung up his coat. “Honestly? Not at all. I was so worried for nothing. Your family is wonderful. They were so welcoming, and it made me feel at ease.”
You smiled, feeling a sense of pride in your family's hospitality. “I told you they’d love you. But I understand why you were nervous; meeting a partner’s family is always a big step.”
“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking thoughtful. “I think it was the idea of making a good impression. I just wanted everything to go smoothly, and it did. Your dad’s humor really helped break the ice. And Finley... well, I wasn’t expecting the football trivia quiz, but it was actually fun.”
You laughed, remembering the light-hearted trivia challenge Finley had orchestrated during halftime. “Finley does have a way of keeping things interesting. They were trying to see if you’d fit into our family banter, and it seems like you passed with flying colors.”
Spencer leaned back against the pillows, a content smile playing on his lips. “Your family dynamic is so different from what I’m used to, but in a really good way. There’s so much love and warmth in your home.”
You joined him on the bed, resting your head on his shoulder. “I’m really glad you’re here to experience it with us. I know it’s not easy to put yourself out there, but you did great. I couldn’t have asked for a better day.”
Spencer wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. “Thank you for inviting me. I’m happy I got to meet them, and it’s nice to be part of something so special. Plus, your dad’s cooking was definitely a highlight. I’m still thinking about those garlic mashed potatoes.”
You smiled, pleased to see how comfortable and at home he felt. “Dad does make a mean mashed potato. I’m glad you enjoyed it all.”
After a moment of silence, Spencer turned to look at you, his expression thoughtful. “You know, spending the day with your family made me realize something. I’ve always been a little afraid of getting too close to people, of letting them in. But being with you and your family... it feels different. It feels right.”
His words warmed your heart, and you met his gaze with a soft smile. “I’m glad to hear that, Spencer. You’re a part of my life now, and I want you to feel like you belong here, with us.”
Spencer nodded, feeling the sincerity in your words. “I do. And it’s because of you. You make everything feel less daunting, and I’m grateful for that.”
You leaned in to kiss him gently, feeling the connection between you deepen. “I’m grateful for you too, Spencer. This Christmas is already one of the best I’ve ever had, and it’s because you’re here.”
He returned the kiss, feeling a sense of peace and happiness that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Being with you, experiencing the warmth and love of your family, had opened his eyes to the possibilities of what life could be when shared with someone who truly cared.
As the night wore on, you and Spencer talked about everything and nothing, wrapped in the comfort of each other’s presence. The city outside was alive with the sounds of the holiday season, but inside the hotel room, it felt like time had slowed down, leaving just the two of you to savor the moment.
“Goodnight, Spencer. I love you,” you said softly, slipping under the covers and curling up beside him.
“Goodnight,” he replied, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “Thank you for today.”
As sleep began to take hold, Spencer realized that he was no longer plagued by the anxieties that had haunted him the night before. Instead, he felt a deep sense of contentment and belonging, knowing that he was exactly where he was meant to be—with you.
—
The holidays had been a whirlwind of joy and laughter, each day unfolding with new experiences and moments of bonding that brought Spencer closer to your family. From playing with Coconut in the backyard to cozy evenings by the fire, the week had been a beautiful blend of warmth and happiness that Spencer had never quite experienced before.
On your last night at your family home, your dad approached Spencer with an unexpected invitation. "Hey, Spencer," he said with a friendly nod, "how about joining me for a drink on the back porch? It's a bit of a family tradition."
Spencer blinked in surprise, feeling both honored and slightly apprehensive. He had learned throughout the week that your dad was a man of deep wisdom and care, and being invited for a private conversation felt significant. As he followed your dad out to the back porch, Spencer couldn’t help but wonder if this was going to be the talk — the one where your dad would lay down the law about how he expected his daughter to be treated.
The night air was crisp and cool, stars twinkling overhead as Spencer and your dad settled into the comfortable chairs on the patio. Your dad handed Spencer a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light from the porch lamp.
"Thanks," Spencer said, taking the glass with a slight nod. He took a sip, feeling the warmth of the drink spread through him, doing little to ease the nerves bubbling in his stomach.
They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, the quiet hum of the neighborhood providing a peaceful backdrop. Spencer braced himself, expecting the shovel talk that he’d often seen dramatized in movies.
Finally, your dad turned to him, a gentle smile on his face. “Spencer, I wanted to talk to you about something,” he began, his tone thoughtful yet reassuring.
Spencer looked over, curious and slightly terrified. “Oh?” he replied, unsure of what to expect.
Your dad chuckled softly, taking a sip from his glass. “I’ve seen how you are with Y/N these past few days. The love and care you have for her is plain as day. And I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate that.”
Spencer blinked, taken aback by the unexpected compliment. He felt his heart swell with emotion, a mixture of relief and gratitude washing over him.
“I know Y/N doesn’t need anyone to take care of her,” your dad continued, his voice steady and sincere. “She’s always been independent and strong, and I’ve never doubted her ability to stand on her own two feet. But it makes me happy to see that she has someone like you in her life—someone who clearly loves and respects her.”
Spencer was speechless, his mind racing to process the words. He had prepared himself for a stern lecture, but instead, he found himself enveloped in a warmth he hadn’t expected.
“Thank you,” Spencer finally managed to say, his voice thick with emotion. “That means a lot to me. More than I can express.”
Your dad nodded, his gaze steady and kind. “I know you didn’t have the best relationship with your own father,” he said, his tone gentle as he broached the sensitive subject. “But if you ever need someone to talk to, for advice or anything else, know that you can always come to me. You’re part of the family now.”
The offer left Spencer profoundly moved, a lump forming in his throat. He had never expected to find this kind of acceptance and support, especially from someone who barely knew him. The absence of a father figure in his life had always been a quiet ache, and here was an unexpected balm for that wound.
“I... I really appreciate that,” Spencer said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never had someone I could go to for that kind of support. It means more than I can say.”
Your dad reached over, giving Spencer’s shoulder a reassuring pat. “We’re glad to have you with us, Spencer. You make Y/N happy, and that’s all a parent can really ask for.”
Spencer nodded, feeling a sense of belonging that he hadn’t anticipated when he first arrived for the holidays. The conversation had taken a turn he hadn’t expected, filling him with a profound gratitude for the connection he was forming with your family.
They sat together for a while longer, exchanging stories and insights about life, relationships, and everything in between. As the evening deepened and the stars twinkled above, Spencer felt an overwhelming sense of peace and contentment.
Later, when he returned to the warmth of the house, he found you waiting in the living room, curiosity dancing in your eyes. “How was it?” you asked, a knowing smile tugging at your lips.
Spencer smiled, his heart full. “It was... wonderful,” he said simply. “Your dad is amazing. I feel really lucky to have met all of you.”
You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. “I knew they’d love you, Spence. And I’m so glad you’re part of my life.”
He held you close, feeling the truth of your words settle deep in his heart. For the first time in a long while, he felt truly at home, surrounded by love and acceptance in a way that he hadn’t thought possible.
—
Later that night, Spencer found himself lying awake in the hotel room. The day's events played over and over in his mind, the words from your dad echoing with a resonance he hadn’t fully anticipated.
You were already asleep beside him, your breath slow and steady, a comforting rhythm that usually soothed his racing thoughts. But tonight, Spencer felt a wave of emotion rising within him, a tide of feelings that he could no longer keep at bay.
He had been holding it together all day, trying to process the overwhelming acceptance he had found in your family, the kind of love and support he had rarely experienced growing up. Now, in the quiet darkness of the room, the dam finally broke.
Silent tears began to slip down his cheeks, tears of joy mixed with a deep, profound sense of healing. For the first time, Spencer allowed himself to feel the full weight of what he had been missing all these years—the absence of a father figure who cared, the lack of a family who embraced him fully and unconditionally.
His younger self, the boy who had longed for approval and a sense of belonging, seemed to stir within him. Memories of lonely holidays and awkward family gatherings resurfaced, but they were now met with the warm, soothing balm of the acceptance he had found with your family.
The tears continued to flow, and though they were born from happiness, they carried the weight of years of unspoken pain. Spencer turned slightly, trying to muffle his sobs against the pillow, not wanting to wake you. But the tears wouldn’t stop, and soon, the quiet sounds of his crying filled the room.
You stirred beside him, sensing his distress even in your sleep. Blinking sleepily, you turned to him, concern immediately etching across your features as you registered the tears glistening in his eyes.
“Spencer?” you whispered, your voice gentle and soothing as you reached out to touch his arm. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
He shook his head, trying to find the words to explain the cascade of emotions washing over him. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m just... overwhelmed, I guess.”
You shifted closer, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a comforting embrace. “Hey, it’s okay,” you murmured, your voice soft and reassuring. “You don’t have to apologize. Just tell me what’s going on.”
Spencer took a shaky breath, trying to compose himself enough to explain. “It’s just... your dad, your family, everything,” he said, struggling to articulate the depth of his feelings. “I never expected to feel so accepted, so welcomed. It’s like... it’s like a part of me that’s been missing is finally starting to heal.”
Understanding dawned on you, and you held him tighter, your heart aching with empathy for the man you loved. “Oh, Spencer,” you whispered, feeling the weight of his words. “You deserve all of that and so much more. You’re part of our family now, and we love you for exactly who you are.”
He nodded, the tears flowing freely now as he allowed himself to fully embrace the reality of your words. The younger version of himself, the one who had always felt out of place, began to quiet, soothed by the knowledge that he was finally where he belonged.
As he held onto this newfound sense of peace, Spencer whispered something he hadn’t quite had the courage to say before. “I love you,” he murmured, the words slipping out like a gentle exhalation of truth.
You froze for a moment, not sure if you heard correctly. The quiet intensity in his voice seemed to linger in the air between you. “What was that?” you asked softly, wanting to be sure you had heard him right, a gentle smile starting to form on your lips.
Spencer met your eyes, his expression both tender and vulnerable. “I love you,” he repeated, a little louder this time, the conviction in his voice clear and unwavering. It was as though saying the words aloud had finally solidified them in his heart.
A warmth spread through you, a feeling of joy and completeness that you hadn’t realized you were longing for. You wrapped your arms around him tighter, your heart soaring at his heartfelt confession.
“I love you too, Spencer,” you replied, your voice filled with sincerity and happiness. “So much.”
He let out a breath he’d been holding, relief and joy mingling with the last traces of his tears. The weight of his past fears seemed to dissolve, leaving behind only the certainty of the moment and the bond you shared.
“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long,” Spencer admitted, his voice still a bit shaky from the emotional release. “But I was scared I wouldn’t be able to do it justice, to make you understand how much you mean to me.”
You reached up, gently cupping his face with your hand, your thumb brushing away the remnants of his tears. “You didn’t have to worry, Spencer. I’ve always known. Your actions speak louder than words, and I’ve felt your love in everything you do.”
He leaned into your touch, feeling a profound sense of gratitude and contentment. “You’ve changed my life in ways I never thought possible,” he said, his eyes locked onto yours with a sincerity that made your heart swell.
You smiled, feeling tears of your own threatening to spill over. “And you’ve changed mine,” you replied, your voice filled with emotion. “I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”
Spencer let out a soft, shaky laugh, feeling lighter and more at peace than he had in years. He pulled you closer, reveling in the warmth and comfort of your embrace, knowing that this was where he was meant to be.
As the two of you lay together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you and the love that bound you. Spencer realized that he was no longer defined by the loneliness of his past but by the connection and happiness he had found with you.
In that moment, he knew that the future was bright, filled with endless possibilities and the promise of shared adventures. With you by his side, Spencer felt ready to face whatever came next, secure in the knowledge that he was loved and accepted for exactly who he was.
As the night deepened and sleep finally began to claim you both, Spencer held onto the truth of his feelings, knowing that he had finally found the home he had always been searching for—in you.
—
The next morning dawned crisp and bright, with the sky painted in shades of soft pastels. As you packed up your belongings and prepared to head back home, there was a bittersweet feeling in the air. The holiday had been a whirlwind of joy and connection, and neither you nor Spencer was quite ready to say goodbye to the warmth of your family.
As you made your way through the house, exchanging hugs and well-wishes, Spencer felt a familiar tug of anxiety mixed with gratitude. This time, however, the anxiety wasn’t accompanied by fear but by a deep appreciation for the acceptance he had found within your family.
When it came time to say goodbye to your dad, Spencer found himself standing on the front porch, the crisp winter air wrapping around him. Your dad approached with a warm smile, extending his hand for a farewell shake.
“It was great having you here, Spencer,” your dad said, his voice filled with genuine warmth. “You’re welcome back anytime.”
Spencer shook his hand, feeling the sincerity in your dad’s grip. “Thank you for everything, Bruce,” Spencer replied, his voice a little rough with emotion. “It’s been wonderful to be part of your family for the holidays.”
Your dad paused for a moment, then gave Spencer’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “you don’t have to call me Bruce anymore. Just call me Dad.”
Spencer’s eyes widened, a fresh wave of emotion washing over him. He felt the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, his heart swelling with a mixture of gratitude and love. This simple gesture, this offer of familial connection, meant more to him than he could express.
“I... thank you, Dad,” Spencer managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “Goodbye, Dad.”
Your dad gave him a nod, the look in his eyes filled with understanding and acceptance. “Take care of yourself, Spencer. And remember, if you ever need anything, I’m just a phone call away.”
Spencer nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. “I will. Thank you.”
You watched the exchange with a full heart, knowing how much this meant to Spencer. As you wrapped up your goodbyes, you could see the mix of emotions playing across his face—the joy of being embraced by your family and the sadness of leaving it behind.
Once you were in the car, Spencer settled into the passenger seat, his mind still processing the weight of the morning’s farewell. He was quiet, lost in thought, and you could tell that he was holding back tears as he reflected on the kindness and acceptance he had been shown.
“Hey,” you said softly, reaching over to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Are you okay?”
Spencer nodded, though his eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “Yeah, I just... I never expected any of this. It’s overwhelming, in a good way.”
You gave him a warm smile, understanding exactly what he meant. “Take your time. I’ll drive us to the airport.”
Spencer nodded gratefully, letting out a shaky breath as he tried to compose himself. You started the car and pulled out of the driveway, leaving the cozy warmth of your family home behind as you began the journey back to reality.
As you drove, Spencer gazed out the window, watching the landscape blur by. The silence in the car was comfortable, a space for him to gather his thoughts and emotions. He marveled at how much had changed in such a short time, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for the love and acceptance he had found.
He reached over, intertwining his fingers with yours, feeling the warmth of your touch grounding him. “I never knew I could feel so... at home. You’ve given me something I didn’t even know I was missing.”
As you both made your way through the airport, ready to embark on the next chapter of your journey together, Spencer knew that whatever lay ahead, he was no longer alone. He had you by his side, a family that embraced him, and a heart full of love that would guide him every step of the way.
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MORE AUTISTIC FEM! READER X SPENCER PLEASEEEE maybe her getting overstimulated at a bar with the team? or at the store? i neeeeddddd more of them!!
Bad Time at the Bar
here you go!! tho it's gn!reader bc gender didn't really come up, hope you don't mind!
genre: hurt/comfort
cw: autistic!reader, explicitly autistic spencer reid, overstimulation (and not the fun kind), meltdown (which reads a lot like a panic attack bc that's what my meltdowns are like), kinda self harm (hitting) and chewing lip until bleeding), internalized ableism and autism viewed in a negative light (spencer talks to reader about it and provides reassurance), completely gn!reader (reader is not described at all)
wordcount: 1.3k
There are too many people. The smell of sweat and alcohol hangs heavy in the air and burns your nose. The room is saturated with noise. Drinks clinking on tables, music playing, people talking. Your head pounds and you regret not bringing your headphones. You thought you’d be fine. You’ve never needed them when at the bar with the team in the past. Someone bumps into you and the unexpected contact causes panic to build in your chest. There’s not enough room. Everything feels like it’s closing in on you.
You suck in a breath through your teeth, gripping your bottle of beer so hard you’re surprised the glass doesn’t shatter. You chew on the inside of your lip until you taste blood, but it does nothing to soothe your quickly growing panic.
You look around frantically, your eyes so wide you feel like they’re about to burst from your skull. Finally, you spot Spencer. He’s gathered around a table with Derek and some strangers, talking animatedly about something. You stagger forward, nearly tripping over your own feet as you try to reach him. People slam into your shoulders and chest and you can feel the burn of tears welling in your eyes. The tears cause the already painfully bright lights to reflect directly into your eyes so you blink hard and wipe them away.
Your whole body shakes and you desperately want to raise your hands to cover your ears but you’re still holding your drink and there’s not enough room and it’s embarrassing. You can feel your heart pounding throughout your body and your limbs feel like they’re going numb.
By some miracle, you manage to reach Spencer. You stumble toward him, reaching out and clinging to his arm. He startles and turns to look at you. Immediately, concern rushes over his face and he takes your drink and passes it to Derek before gently grabbing your hand. As quickly as he’s able, Spencer guides you through the bar toward an exit, using his own body to force people aside and away from you despite his dislike of germs.
He holds open the back door and you practically fall into the alley. The door closes and immediately the smells, lights, and sounds lessen. You sink to the ground, pressing your hands against your ears now that there is no one but Spencer to see you. You curl your knees to your chest and stare with wide eyes at the ground. Each breath you take is a rasping, heaving mess, and a distressed groan forces itself from your throat with each exhale.
You feel like you’re dying.
Spencer crouches down beside you, sitting with his legs crossed and leaning against the wall, and you immediately press your body into his. You curl your legs beneath you and lean awkwardly in a way that hunches your back and presses your forehead into his knee. You squeeze your eyes shut and you can feel the way your tears soak his pants.
Spencer drapes himself over your back, using his body to provide the grounding pressure he’s learned you need in times like this. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes tightly. You let out a broken sob and slam the heel of your palm into the side of your head.
“Hey, hey,” Spencer mutters, gently taking a hold of your wrist.
You shake your head. You need to hit. You need it. And there’s no way to redirect.
Spencer releases your hand and you move it to thump it against your chest.
“Okay, that’s better than your head,” Spencer says to himself. He squeezes your body in intervals and the varying pressure helps ground you. Slowly your sobs lessen to sniffles and hiccuping breaths and the hand hitting your chest falls limp against Spencer’s leg.
“You’re okay,” Spencer mutters, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “You’re going to be alright.”
You sniffle and move your head to press it against his stomach.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he says softly. You can hear the love and care in his voice. “You feeling a bit better?”
You hum and nod against him.
“Do you need some more time, or do you want to go home?” he asks, keeping his body pressing against yours in case you still need the pressure.
You tap his leg twice.
“Home?” he asks sweetly.
You nod, and Spencer sits back. The sudden lack of pressure makes your body feel weird, and part of you wants to drag him back down. You decide against it, knowing that you’ll get used to it quickly and that Spencer will hold you again when you get home.
Spencer carefully guides you to your feet and, keeping an arm wrapped around you, leads you out of the alley and down the street to his car. He opens the passenger side door and you climb in.
“Will you be okay for a minute or two while I run back in to grab our stuff from JJ?” Spencer asks.
You nod and do your best to smile at him. Spencer smiles back and closes the door. He locks the car and jogs back toward the bar.
You sigh and wrap your hands around your stomach. Guilt and embarrassment coil painfully in your chest. You can’t believe that just happened. You should have been fine. Why this time? Why the one time you didn’t bring your headphones? You groan in frustration. Why couldn’t you just be normal? And Spencer. You feel so guilty for dragging him away from the rest of the team and the fun he was having to deal with you.
There’s a soft click as the doors unlock, then Spencer opens the driver's side door and climbs inside. You keep your head bowed as he closes the door and reaches into the backseat to set down both of your stuff.
You see him still out of the corner of your eye, and he rests his hand gently on your shoulder. “Hey, what’s going on?” he asks.
“I–I’m sorry,” you mutter weakly.
“For what, sweetheart?”
“For this! For everything!” you cry. “You–you were having fun and I ruined it! You shouldn’t have to deal with this!”
Spencer says your name softly and, when you don’t respond, he whispers, “Please look at me.”
You slowly raise your head, wiping away the tears streaming down your cheeks.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I don’t care what it is I’m doing, if you’re upset or need help, I will always drop everything to be there for you. And it’s not ‘dealing with you’, baby. We’re partners. It’s our job to take care of each other. You can’t control when you get overstimulated or have a meltdown.”
“But I could have!” you insist. “I didn’t bring my headphones because I thought I’d be fine like every other time and then I wasn’t! It’s my fault I freaked out like this. I should be able to handle it.”
“There is no ‘should’. Having a meltdown will never be your fault. And I know you know that, because you would never think these things about me when I have a meltdown.”
Your jaw drops. “Of-of course not!” you stutter, taken aback.
“Then why is it different for you?” Spencer asks. “Why is your autism bad but mine isn’t?”
You open and close your mouth for a moment, unsure of what to say.
Spencer doesn’t speak.
“I–I don’t know,” you eventually admit.
“It’s because it isn’t bad. I understand why you might feel that way or why you feel guilty about making me deal with it, as you say. But I help you because I love you and care about you and because I want to. Just like you help me because you love and care about me and want you. And I will always choose to help you and be there for you, no matter what, no matter how ashamed you may feel. Okay?”
Your chin wobbles, and soon tears are streaming down your face as you let out a wailing sob.
Spencer leans over the armrest to hug you, neither of you caring about the awkward angle.
You pull back and wipe at your eyes. “C-can we go home, now?” you ask weakly.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Spencer says kindly.
“And then cuddles?”
“Always.”
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so I’m basic and love a good sick fic. can I request a fluffy sick fic where Spencer takes care of reader 🥰
heatmiser | S.R.
who? spencer x gn!reader category: fluff; hurt/comfort content warnings: germs, the flu, fever, migraine, nausea/vomit, a christmas movie, medicine (tylenol) word count: 1.07k a/n: i also love a good sick fic! thank you so much for requesting! i hope you enjoy!
The pillows on your previously claimed side of the bed smelled like your boyfriend’s shampoo, laying on your side, you could only smell the tea tree through one nostril as you brought the blanket further up on your body, tucking the fabric beneath your chin and closing your eyes.
You tried to close your eyes and fall asleep, but the whistling of your nose prevented your brain from being fully able to relax. While you were hyperfocused on your attempts to sleep, you didn’t even notice Spencer coming home until the bedroom door opened, leaving a stream of light that lead straight to your face.
An embarrassing keening noise escaped your throat as you rolled over in the bed, trying to evade the warm light from the living room as you did so. “Hey, love,” Spencer greeted you gently, making note of the darkness of the room, probably thinking you had a headache instead of whatever demon had decided to take over your immune system.
What you initially thought was a migraine had revealed itself as what was most likely the flu. You mumbled an incoherent greeting as you stared in the direction of the bedroom window. Yesterday, you had felt a rush of energy, prompting you to cheat a blanket up against the blinds, blocking any and all light from entering your sick cave.
You heard the door click closed and felt the mattress dip down slightly beneath you, “What’s wrong?” His voice was tentative, placing a hand on your blanket-laden hip and trying to figure out why you were cocooned in bed at two in the afternoon. Gingerly, Spencer reached a hand up to sweep a lock of hair off of your sticky forehead, in the process, his fingers felt just how sweltering your skin was. “Oh, honey,” he whispered sympathetically, pulling the blanket down and revealing your sweat-dampened skin.
Releasing a pathetic whimper, you pawed at the fabric of the blanket. Despite the heat emanating from your body, you were freezing. “I feel like I went through a trash compactor,” you mumbled miserably, blinking at Spencer as he tried to haul you into a sitting position. “Spence, wait,” you said as he pulled your torso upright, you wavered unsteadily on top of the bed, your head felt like it weighed the same as a kettlebell.
“Wait, what?” He asked quickly, taking up an oh-god-are-you-going-to-throw-up tone with you. His hand was placed on the small of your back, rubbing small circles over the fabric of your hoodie until you stopped swaying.
You frowned as you looked up at him, meeting his brown eyes, “I have germs.”
Spencer’s gaze softened as he cupped your flushed cheeks in his hands, “What I think you have is the flu, baby. Did you go to a doctor while I was gone?” He asked, obviously concerned over the fact that when he left for a case, you were fine, but upon his return, you were immobile in bed.
Reaching your arms up as Spencer tugged your hoodie over your head, providing you with a moment of relief as you were left in your t-shirt. “I thought I’d just tough it out,” you muttered as your boyfriend tossed your discarded clothes in the laundry hamper.
“Doctors aren’t enemies,” Spencer chided gently, smoothing your hair back for just a moment before moving the bedroom trash can to your bedside – not fully convinced that you weren’t going to ralph off the edge of the bed at any given moment.
You hummed as you watched his movements, he walked into the bathroom and returned with a damp wash cloth, draping it over your head and pressing the cool fabric into your skin. “I have grown rather fond of you,” you responded absentmindedly as you closed your eyes and basked in the relief that the washcloth was providing you.
Moving his hands and trusting that the cloth would remain on your forehead, Spencer returned to the bathroom, rifling through the drawers before he came back into the bedroom with a thermometer in hand, “Open,” he instructed, waiting for you to open your mouth before he stuck the bulb under your tongue, and you clamped your lips shut around it. “I wish you had told me you were sick,” he said, knowing full well that you couldn’t respond to him with the thermometer in your mouth.
Part of you considered the idea that he said that because you couldn’t respond.
When the thermometer beeped, he pulled it from your mouth, flashing the results in your face, “One-hundred and one,” he read aloud. “How long have you been sick?”
“They call me Heatmiser,” you mumbled wearily, sitting up was beginning to take too much of your energy. Your fever-addled brain didn’t even register that he had asked you a question.
Spencer’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Who is Heatmiser?” He asked, taking the washcloth from your forehead and looking at your flushed skin.
Your eyes narrowed, “You don’t know Heatmiser? We have to watch Heatmiser,” you told him, looking around in the bed for your laptop.
“Are you hallucinating? Do we need to go to the ER?” Spencer asked you, tone stiff and serious as he thought you were delusional with fever.
Shaking your head, your shoulders slumped forward, “’m not hallucinating, I just feel gross.”
Crouching down to the floor so you wouldn’t have to look up to meet his eyes, Spencer took your clammy hand in one of yours, “I know, baby. Do you want to take a shower? It might help you feel better to rinse off and put on new clothes.”
You leaned back in bed, head falling on soft, tea tree scented pillows. “Later?” You negotiated, “Being vertical makes my head spin.”
He nodded, pulling your blanket up and over your lap, “Have you taken anything? I really want to try to get your fever down.”
Shaking your head almost imperceptibly, you tilted your head to the side, “Didn’t take anything,” you answered.
“Alright,” he said, standing back up and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, “I’ll be right back with some water and Tylenol.”
Offering him a halfhearted smile, you fiddled with the soft blanket that covered your lap, “And then we can do Heatmiser?” You asked him hopefully, watching Spencer pass through the doorway into the kitchen.
“Sure, baby, then we can do Heatmiser,” he placated, still not entirely sure what you were talking about.
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