#ticklish!reid

[nhasablogg]

Fine line

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Characters: Morgan, Reid

Anonymous said: Morgan finds out that Gideon used to tickle Reid and Reid misses it so he makes it his mission to tickle him whenever he can?

A/N: Changed it up a lil. Hope you like it!

Words: 1.8k

The things he saw of Reid and Gideon’s relationship Morgan only caught glances of. A familiarity that could be felt through their shared looks and the way Reid would turn toward him when he felt uncertain. Once, just once, had Morgan seen them smile at each other at the same time.

He only saw it once too, and at the time he thought he’d made it up. Rainy. Hot coffee all over his shirt after slipping on leaves just outside of work. His mood so bad even Elle didn’t mess with him that morning upon catching sight of him exiting the elevator. He spent the time he usually spent chatting up his team by pulling paper towel after paper towel out of the dispenser, trying desperately to soak the remaining coffee stain out of his clothes. He would be late. Hotch wasn’t gonna kill him, but he was gonna be annoyed.

“Dammit,” he groaned, throwing the last of the towels in the trash and making his way toward the conference room. Another complaint was just about to leave his lips when he saw them, a glimpse just visible in the slit of the open door. Whatever he’d been about to say died at the tip of his tongue. Horrified, at first, at what he thought they were doing, only it didn’t fully seem real. The way Gideon’s hands moved over Reid’s body didn’t seem sensual at all.

Tickling him, he thought and then immediately questioned it. Had Reid really been curling in on himself just then as Gideon skittered his fingers over his sides? Because only seconds later, as Hotch passed him and entered the room, both of them were perfectly collected.

Reid made a face when he saw him. “What happened to you?” Not a single trace of laughter in his voice, although Morgan was certain - was he? - he’d been giggling.

He shook his head. “I spilled my coffee and have frankly had a terrible morning.”

“Not as bad as Mr Anderson and his family,” Gideon said, maybe too casually, and Morgan forgot all about him possibly tickling their youngest member as he caught the blood on the photographs spread across the table.

He brought it up years later, the two of them sharing a hotel room in a little town in rural Montana. Neither of them were drinking, but the intensity of the case had made them delirious enough that it felt like it. Morgan threw a balled up sock at Reid, who did little about it. “Speaking of Gideon,” he started, having let Reid talk about him without interrupting. He did that sometimes. Morgan never pressed him. “I need some clarity about something from ages ago. Like, pre-Prentiss times.”

“Okay.” He gripped the sock which had landed on his lap. Threw it onto the bed, watched it bounce off and onto the floor. “Go ahead.”

“This is kind of, uh. Weird? To ask, I mean.”

Reid frowned, evidently more on edge now. “What is it?”

“It’s about something I saw. Or I think I saw. And to be fair I’m not sure why it’s stuck with me for this long, but it has.”

“Morgan, you’re scaring me.”

“Did he ever tickle you? Because I swear I once saw him tickling you, but then you were acting all normal only seconds later and I think I want to know more to make sure I’m not going crazy.” For some reason, as he spoke, Morgan could feel that Reid was getting embarrassed and was torn between giving him space by looking away and staring into his soul because he couldn’t comprehend why he would get embarrassed in the first place.

“Oh,” was all he said, and by the time Morgan had made up his mind to stare Reid was glaring a hole into the floor.

Morgan held up his hands. “You don’t have to tell me. Forget I asked, okay?”

“He did that sometimes,” Reid said quietly.

“Tickle you?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

He looked up. Eyes locked. “That’s weird, right?”

“Is it?”

“Most people would think so.”

“Do I look like most people to you?”

Reid’s smile was shy. He didn’t elaborate.

Obviously Morgan couldn’t stop thinking about it. Reid being ticklish and Reid trusting someone enough to be vulnerable like that around them. However it had started, whatever the reason, it apparently brought them both enough comfort for it to continue once Reid started in the BAU. There was something precious about that. Precious and heartbreaking. Morgan couldn’t understand why he found it heartbreaking.

“Can I ask you something?”

They were at Reid’s apartment. Morgan couldn’t remember how he started going there, but it was a weekly thing at that point.

“Will I regret it if I say yes?” Reid replied, not looking up from whatever he was looking up on his computer.

Morgan snorted. “Probably.”

“Well, now I’m curious, so ask anyway.”

“Why tickling?”

Reid froze for only a second, invisible to the untrained eye, only Morgan of course was about to get a masters degree in Spencer Reid at that point. He didn’t try to dismiss his curiosity this time. Only waited for Reid to slowly look up, cheeks slightly pink.

“I’m unsure,” he admitted. “I reckon it was something that started when I was young and continued when I got older. He didn’t do it often, mind you. But occasionally.”

Morgan nodded. “Okay, so the origins are uncertain. But why keep it up? Did you enjoy it?”

A deeper pink. “I didn’t dislike it.”

“Not really answering my question, but I can put the pieces together.” He was trying extremely hard not to grin.

Reid looked away, fully red now. “He didn’t seem to have any rhyme or reason for when he did it. He just always knew when it was needed.”

“Did he only do it briefly or fully pin you?”

“Only briefly.”

“Do you miss it?”

“More often than I think I realized.” He shook his head. “I started thinking about it when you brought it up last time. I haven’t stopped since.”

Morgan crossed his arms. “I mean, if you ever wanted anyone else to do it.” He trailed off. He knew Reid knew what he meant.

Reid ran a hand over his face. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Seriously. I would be down.”

“I know, Morgan.”

Things became weird after that. Not uncomfortable, necessarily, but Morgan felt like Reid was on edge around him. As if he thought he would just attack him out of nowhere. As if Morgan would ever do that now, knowing what he knew.

He kept thinking about it, though. Reid giggling under his fingers. Reid wanting him to tickle him.

It was safe to say he was going a little crazy.

“Why are you looking at him like that?” Garcia demanded more than once, because apparently Morgan had completely lost his sense of subtlety.

“Like what?” he asked, defensive and aware of it.

“Like you’re obsessed with him or something.” Her voice was softer when she said that. Morgan wondered what she thought. Was too afraid to ask.

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous.” He wasn’t prepared for Reid to be the one to bring it up. “As much as I will hate every second of it, we should probably talk.”

Morgan wasn’t sure why he felt himself flush. “Right. We should.” He turned toward the semi-empty office. “Uh. Conference room?”

“You’ve been avoiding me ever since I admitted to missing it,” Reid said as Morgan closed the door behind them. He looked like he was trying very hard to act nonchalant about it all, but Morgan could see right through him. He was hurt.

“I swear I haven’t. At least not on purpose.”

“You think it’s weird.”

“No-”

“You think I’m weird.”

“The only thing I find weird is my inability to figure out how to navigate this.” He shook his head. “I can’t stop thinking about it and I don’t know how you want me to act.”

Reid blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” Morgan ran a hand over his face. “I feel like if I do it you’d get mad at me for trying to replace him, but also pretending I don’t know about it might make you think I don’t care or find it weird - evidently I was right - but look, Reid, I don’t find it weird, okay? I’m just terrified of crossing a boundary here.”

Reid was flushing to the roots of his hair. “Okay. Okay, that makes sense. I’m sorry-”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“You really don’t have to do anything just because he did.”

“But I want to.” It was the first time Morgan admitted it aloud. “I want to do it.”

Reid averted his gaze. “Why?”

“Because I want to see you laugh and squirm.” Morgan’s smile softened. “And because I want to bring you comfort if you need it, or whatever it does for you. And listen, if that was something you only did with him, I’ll respect that.”

“I did that with my mom, too,” he said quietly. “That’s why Gideon did it. And why Ethan did it.”

“Your ex?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, if you want one more person to do it for you, I’m here.”

Reid finally, finally, smiled. “I know.” A beat, and, “Thanks.”

The next day, Morgan got to work. They still hadn’t really figured it all out - Reid said not having had to discuss it with anyone before was part of it. Morgan would be damned if he couldn’t figure this out like the ones before him had.

So he watched him.

Reid knew he was watching him, obviously, but life continued. New cases fell on their desks, and after a particularly bad one, when all of them were exhausted and quiet, Morgan wondered if this was the time. If he should sit down next to him on the jet and poke his side. But it didn’t feel right. He felt Reid wouldn’t appreciate it.

He stumbled upon several moments like that during the next few weeks, where the genius could either really need a good laugh or to be comforted, but Morgan couldn’t ever decide if it was the right time. He was starting to feel frustrated himself.

In the end, he just did it. No preamble. No second thoughts. If it was the wrong time, Reid would let him know.

He could tell Reid was stressed and overwhelmed and second guessing himself, and maybe that wasn’t the right time to tickle someone, but Morgan knew how Reid felt about it. That, in the right circumstances, it could make him feel better.

And so he circled his hands around his waist, said, “Cut yourself some slack, pretty boy,” and curled his fingers over skin. Reid jumped, but instead of squirming away he squirmed into him, a gentle laugh Morgan would think of for the next coming weeks slipping out before he could stop it, and Morgan was sure that even if it didn’t help it most definitely didn’t hurt.

That was all he could hope for, really.

[cringemesstickles]

Spencer Reid’s Big Secret

(Squealing Santa 2023)

Summary: Spencer Reid has a secret, and Morgan wants to know what it is.

Pairing: Moreid (Morgan/Reid)

Word count: 1,555

A/N: Merry Christmas y’all! This is my squealing Santa gift to @gaybananabread !! :D

I combined two of the prompts bc they were both too cute and I couldn’t decide :’)

I had a lotta fun writing this and I hope you enjoy it!

———————————————————

The BAU headquarters was quieter than usual, a calm before the storm of another case. In a corner of the room, Dr. Spencer Reid sat, his attention buried in a pile of books and papers.

Now, Spencer Reid was incredibly clever… there was no about it.

However, he was never very good at concealing the fact that he was hiding something. You’d think that in his line of work it would be quite the opposite, but most of the time, that just isn’t the case.

Whenever he was hiding something, he would act even more awkward than usual.

Derek Morgan, ever so observant, caught this look and couldn’t resist the urge to investigate.

“Alright, pretty boy, spill it.” Morgan abruptly confronted, palms slammed on the table as if he were conducting a real interrogation, startling the young detective.

Reid looked up with surprise before he put on a mask of innocence. “Spill what?”

“Don’t play dumb. You’re hiding something, and I wanna know what it is!”

The younger averted his eyes and Morgan swore that he saw a faint blush on his cheeks.

“What would give you that idea? I’m not hiding anything…”

Morgan wasn’t buying it. He moved closer, a playful yet determined look on his face as he circled around behind Reid.

“Alright… if you won’t talk, I have other methods.”

With that, he quickly spun the chair around to make Reid face him before making a beeline for the detective’s vulnerable sides, digging into the sensitive flesh.

Taken off guard by the sudden tickling ambush, Reid lets out a surprised yelp before loud, unrestrained laughter tumbled from his lips.

“Hey! W-What are you dohohohoing?!”

The older man gave a sly grin.

He was definitely gonna have fun with this.

“What does it look like I’m doing, genius?” He asked teasingly, skillfully spidering his fingers up to Reid’s ribs, using just enough pressure to drive the young detective crazy.

“Ahh! Y-You’re tickling mehehehehee!”

“Bingo!” Morgan said with a grin. “And I’m not gonna stop until you tell me what you’re hiding!”

The blonde squirmed desperately in his seat, trapped between the chair and his attacker. Well… he could maybe escape if he wanted to. The seat didn’t have any armrests; he just wasn’t willing to throw himself at the floor quite yet.

Perhaps he could hold out and Morgan would just give up.

“Nohohoho! Morgan, plehehease! I-I’m not hiding aNYTHIHIHING- WAHAHAIT!”

The doctor’s plea was cut off by his own raucous laughter when he felt the tingling sensations migrate from his ribcage to under his arms, one of his hot spots.

“You can’t lie to me, pretty boy! You better start talking, or I might have to take drastic measures.” The elder playfully threatened, drilling his thumbs into the tender hollows, getting an uncharacteristic shriek from the normally reserved detective.

Reid glued his arms to his sides, but it didn’t matter. Morgan kept on tickling, even with his hands trapped.

Truthfully, Morgan kind of hoped that Reid would stay stubborn, just so that he’d have an excuse to keep tickling him.

Reid’s laughter was so rare, and to have it ringing so openly was nothing short of a gift.

He didn’t even care about the secret as long as he could get Reid to keep laughing like that.

Well… okay, maybe he cared about the secret a little bit.

But that just means he has every excuse in the world to keep tickling the young genius.

Besides, the poor kid needed some playfulness in his life.

“I-I’M NOT TEHEHELLING!!”

This statement, ladies and gentlemen, was a huge mistake.

Morgan quirked a brow, pausing to give the younger man a momentary break from the tickling, but moving to grab his wrists so that he doesn’t escape.

“Not telling, huh? So you admit that you’re hiding something!”

Reid’s face flushed bright red and his eyes widened comically as he realized his mistake.

“Wait, no, I-I meant that, uh…”

Morgan wasn’t having it.

“Y’know, Reid… I think those lanky legs of yours are feeling a little left out.”

He didn’t have to say anymore before Reid began kicking his legs, pleading for mercy before Morgan even touched him.

“Nononono, Morgan, plehehease dohohon’t!” There was a nervous smile on his face, which was starting to turn a nice rosy shade.

“Oh, I think I will, since you’re sooo insistent on not sharing that secret.”

Before Reid could let out another protest, Morgan’s hand caught one of the flailing legs while the other hand began to squeeze rapidly at the kneecap.

The young genius let out a snort, his laughter taking on a boyish energy as he tried his hardest to free his leg, thrashing his entire body from the intense electric tickling sensation.

“NAHAHAH- MORGAHAHAN, T-TOO TIHIHIHICKLISH!!” He shrieked, tears of mirth starting to prick at his eyes.

Morgan couldn’t help but laugh along, not expecting such an extreme reaction from Spencer Reid.

How on earth had Morgan been neglecting Reid’s knees until now?!

“Maybe if you tell me your secret, I can make it a little less ticklish~”

The younger shook his head stubbornly. His stomach was starting to hurt from how hard he was laughing.

He knew his knees were sensitive, but he didn’t know they were THAT sensitive.

Nevertheless, he refused to give in!

At least until Morgan began scribbling over the kneecap…

“Well that’s too bad, Reid. What if I just- woah!”

The minute Morgan touched his knee with that scribbling motion, Reid let out a scream of laughter before throwing himself to the floor in a desperate escape act.

And it worked! He was free from Morgan’s ticklish clutches.

For a few seconds…

Undeterred, the older detective simply followed Reid to the floor, now able to pin him more effectively by sitting on his hips.

“Nice try, kid. You can’t escape me that easily!”

The younger man gave a childish whine, wriggling hopelessly and realizing he definitely wasn’t getting out of this until he gave Morgan what he wanted.

But strangely, it seemed almost as if Reid was enjoying himself… like he was having just as much fun as Morgan was.

“Alright, Reid. I didn’t wanna have to do this, but you leave me no choice.”

With that ominous statement, the older agent began to roll up the younger’s shirt, watching with a mischievous sparkle in his eye as he sees his victim’s expression shift from playful dread, to one of sheer panic… and a glimmer of excitement?

“Your tummy looks rather tasty, Reid. If you’re not gonna share that secret, maybe I should give it a little taste?”

Reid’s eyes went as wide as saucers and he burst into a fit of anticipatory giggles, futilely tugging at his arms.

“Oh? Giggling already? Something you wanna tell me, Reid?”

The giggling agent in question frantically nodded his head, signaling to Morgan that all was about to be revealed.

“I’m listening…”

When Reid looked at Morgan with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he finally said…

“I’m never telling you.”

Taken aback by the sass, the elder decided it was time to unleash his secret weapon.

“That’s it! You asked for this, Reid!”

With that, he brought his face to Reid’s tummy and began to nibble at the soft skin.

The response he got was pure gold.

Reid let out the most childlike squeal before falling into bright, boisterous guffaws, arching his back out of instinct.

“OH MY GOHOHOD, MORGON, PLEHEHEHEASE!!”

Morgan simply let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against Reid’s skin, before he continued the tummy nibbles, making obnoxious nomming sounds which only seemed to make Reid laugh louder.

“NOOO! O-OKAY OKAHAHAHAY!! I’LL TEHEHELL!!”

The tickler lifted his head, looking at Reid with a raised eyebrow.

“For real this time? Don’t make me-”

“EEK- NONONO, I MEAN IT, I PROHOHOMISE!!!”

Morgan pulled back, giving Reid a moment to catch his breath.

At last, Reid inhaled… ready to unleash his big secret.

“So, um… you know how earlier this morning, Hotch said that somebody used all the sugar?..”

Morgan stared blankly.

Surely this was going somewhere…

Reid fiddled with his hands, guiltily averting his eyes.

“I did it…”

For a moment, neither said a word.

“That’s it!?” Exclaimed the older man, expecting more of a, well… secret?

“I used all the sugar, Morgan!”

The blonde tilted his head when Morgan began laughing and shaking his head with disbelief.

“God, Reid… you’re a mess.” He chuckled, reaching out to ruffle the younger’s hair.

Reid’s cheeks turned a rosy shade, whether it was from embarrassment or the affectionate gesture, he couldn’t quite tell.

With an amused expression, Morgan hopped up off the ground, extending a hand for Reid to take, which the doctor graciously took.

“That’s enough excitement for me for one day… I’m heading home.”

Before he left, he turned to give Reid a wink.

“Don’t worry, pretty boy… I won’t tell your oh so terrible secret.” He teased, flashing that charming smile.

Reid felt the heat rise to his cheeks.

As he packed up his own belongings, his thoughts kept drifting towards Morgan, and how maybe he should stop being so uptight all the time…

Maybe it was kind of fun laughing until he couldn’t breathe.

And maybe, just maybe… he kind of liked it when Morgan called him pretty boy.

[im-outofideas]

it’s not so bad here

fandom: criminal minds

w/c: 2155

pairing: platonic BAU (mostly prentiss and morgan), spencer reid

summary: perspective of spencer: on the jet ride home after a long case. The team is so tired they get a lil silly. fluff + minimum angst I mean it is spencer’s brain.

a/n: this is quite literally my first time for everything, my first time using tumblr and my first ever fanfiction. i had a lot of fun so perhaps expect more maybe?? I want to thank the amazing @nhasablogg for being the biggest inspiration and just so cool honestly. they helped a lot with this work and have just been the kindest person ever!!! anyway pls read the following with all this☝️in mind.

~~~~~~

Spencer never really got used to flying. The team was currently thirty-six-thousand-eight-hundred-sixty-four feet above what Spencer assumed (or more accurately, calculated) would be Tennessee based on flight patterns from Dallas to Quantico and the amount of time they’ve been in air for. Which was roughly three hours, forty-five minutes, six seconds. Seven. Eight. They had about three more hours to go.

The pressure was building in Spencer’s ears and he grimaced, swallowing hard in an attempt to pop them. He always felt a pang of anxiety whenever any pain came to his head, as his memory would replay his mother’s cries for relief during bad episodes.

There was one night when Spencer was eleven, experiencing his first true migraine after finishing his college applications. It was one of the few times Spencer remembered his mother taking care of him instead of the other way around, she was almost completely lucid. His fear was much stronger then, and while he was a boy-genius, his brain was still biologically too immature to handle it.

“I’m dying, mom.” The corners of his eyes wet with tears. His mother smiled at him. It wasn’t often that Spencer behaved his age like this.

“No baby, your head is just too full, and your skull is too small to contain it. The pain is just your head expanding, working to grow and stay ahead of your thoughts.”

“Actually, your brain can’t be too big for your skull. There’s just a blood vessel swelling, and that’s putting pressure on the surrounding nerves which is making the muscles around my skull tighten and causing…” he groaned in frustrated pain. His mother stroked his hair soothingly.

“Would you listen to your mother for once, Spencer? Just go to sleep, you can’t feel the world in your sleep, you know. Go somewhere other than this reality, where your head isn’t constantly working. Relieve some of that pressure... It’s too stressful here, isn’t it?” A far too familiar distant look crossed her eyes for a moment. He rushed to retrieve her.

“Mom.. would you stay with me tonight?”

She returned her son’s gaze. “Of course, I’m not going anywhere.”

His pain seeped out with every stroke, as if his mother’s fingers were magically sucking it out from his skin. As he fell asleep, he found that she was right. He didn’t feel anything. It was like traveling through time.

—————

The case in Texas was particularly rough. Over the past five days, the team got maybe a total of eight hours of rest each. And as far as successes go, they’ve gotten better wins. As a headache creeped up on Spencer, he kicked off his shoes and curled up on the jet couch for a nap. He fell asleep pretty quickly, ready to skip through the headache until he was in Virginia again.

But a funny sensation on his right foot caused his leg to jerk in. I thought I couldn’t feel the world in my sleep. He stirred to see Prentiss standing at the end of the couch.

“I like your socks, Reid.” She said, before wiggling her fingers over his left pink-and-purple striped sock.

“Hey!” He pulled his other leg in and smushed it against the cushion to smother the feeling. He checked his watch, the jet couldn’t be landing already? “What’d you wake me up for?”

“I couldn’t help myself. Purple’s my favorite color.” She grinned at his reaction, before it faded into a frown. “Hang on, now that you’re up though, how come you always get the full couch to sleep on?” Morgan leaned over from his seat, invested in the conversation.

“Thank you. I’ve been meaning to say something about that bull.” He craned his neck, exaggerating the pain of sleeping upright.

“Reid is the youngest,” Hotch said from out of nowhere, neither against him nor in his defense. Spencer hadn’t even noticed him watching. Had they all been watching him sleep? Rossi continued for Hotch, “I suppose he assumed he got first rights to the couch for being born last. And you all let him.”

Hotch went back to the paperwork in his lap, diligent even while running on no sleep. “No, what about Ashley Seaver? She was younger than Reid,” he said. Definitely against him.

“And he still took the couch. Like a gentleman,” said Rossi.

Suddenly, Spencer felt very ganged up on.

“Is that right?” Morgan squinted at Spencer as if he stole something precious from him.

“I don’t think that’s fair,” Prentiss said. “We can’t let him get away with this anymore.”

At first, he was confused by the rare playfulness of his coworkers, especially from Hotch adding to the banter after the crazy, long week. Then he realized; everyone was sleep deprived and filled with a goofy, delirious energy. And while they weren’t able to catch the unsub, they were able to return a young girl back to her family - traumatized, but albeit unharmed - something they saw far too little of. The feeling left everyone more fuzzy than anything, it outweighed the disappointment of losing the unsub. Reuniting a family always strengthened his own, Spencer thought. Perhaps that fuzziness and fatigue was expunging all the professionalism they maintained while the case was ongoing.

And now Spencer - who was just sleeping soundly on the couch that everyone was hungry for - was beginning to feel that fuzziness himself. He faced his back towards his team as he pulled his cover up to his chin and closed his eyes.

“If you wanted it, you should’ve gotten to it first.”

At that, he heard Morgan rise and make his way toward the couch. The blanket was ripped off him dramatically. He kept his eyes closed and opened his mouth to snore lightly. His snore lasted half a second before the sound was abruptly cut off, immediately snapping his mouth shut in a toothy grimace and slamming his elbow down to his side.

“Get your ass up, Reid,”

“No.” He buried his face into the back of the couch, trying to hide his smile as if the way his elbow followed each of Morgan’s delivered pokes didn’t give him away. Reid stiffened a bit more, he focused on schooling his reactions and moving less. If he started laughing, there was no way they would stop, probably even after he gave up what they wanted.

“C‘mon, it’s time to wake up.” His resolve began to crumble when Morgan tasered both sides of his ribs. “Share with the rest of us.”

“Ahhh-ha! Stop!” He huffed out a laugh before holding his breath to stop himself. His face quickly flushed as he wiggled on the couch.

“You know, everyone else sits during the whole flight. As a courtesy to the rest of the team. Except for you-” He accentuated by digging into his ribs again, causing another yelp and laugh to slip. “-who’s just sleeping here like a baby. What’s up with that?”

“Derek-“

“Hmm?”

He couldn’t speak.

“Aww, what’s the matter, Reid? You’re not ticklish, are you?” Prentiss cooed as if nobody could tell he would be just by looking at him.

That’s all it took to crack him. Once the hysterical laughter began he couldn’t stop it. Like a defense mechanism, his brain started working in overdrive to apply logic to best overcome this assault. It took no time to figure out he could never physically stop Morgan; in terms of strength he was far outmatched.

Well, tickling is essentially the body’s response to unpredictable stimuli, so theoretically he could dull the sensations by predicting the attacks. He could trick his brain into believing he was tickling himself. He applied it in a fraction of a second.

All he did was swat at Morgan’s hands in an awkwardly gentle manner, unable to take hold of them. It really did absolutely nothing. Spencer wondered if he were one of the few who could tickle himself.

Before he could think of another solution, Prentiss grabbed one of his arms and hoisted it up above his head.

“No no no, wait wait doN’T-“

Being able to predict was proven a completely worthless tactic. Morgan tickled under his arm and he screamed. His ears finally popped and he could hear the sounds of his own bright laughter at its true pitch. His defense mechanism was shot, as if Morgan’s fingers were sucking out any ability to form a useful thought.

“Oh my god, how’d an eagle get so high up here?” Prentiss teased before breaking down herself.

Spencer wailed and curled his legs in protectively. When that did nothing, he kicked and pulled down at his arm. When that did nothing, he fell back in a whiny giggle in an attempt to garner their sympathy. That did nothing but encourage them.

“Hotch!”

Hotch finished his note, glanced very briefly at his team before returning to his work with the slightest of smiles. Spencer felt betrayed. Supervisory special agent my AAHHAA-

“Oh oh, what’s going on? It sounds like fun, let me see,” JJ turned the laptop over to show Garcia what was happening: Spencer flopping red in the face with Morgan practically sitting on him, Prentiss crouching - legs wobbly from her own laughter - behind Spencer’s head, still holding onto his arm.

“Oh geez, Spencer. How did I not know you were ticklish! Because of course you are. What did he do to deserve this? Did he cheat at Go Fish again?”

Upon seeing Garcia’s grin and his own disheveled form mirrored back at him, Spencer felt embarrassed. If anyone was going to make this a recurring experience, it would be her. He wasn’t totally against the idea, which made him blush furiously harder.

“Okay, okayokay! Y-you can have the couch. I don’t want it. I don’t want it!” Prentiss let go and Spencer squirmed out of Morgan’s grasp, falling to the floor of the jet. He stayed there catching his breath in high-pitched giggles, bewildered by what just happened. He wiped his eyes and looked up at Hotch and Rossi, who stared down at him with immense amusement.

“Thanks for the help guys,” he exhaled, exhausted. They both shook their heads with fond smiles.

“I trusted my agents could handle an internal conflict on their own,” Hotch said.

“You mean manhandle..”

He looked to Morgan, who was settling comfortably on the couch with Reid’s blanket, Prentiss cuddling next to him. He rubbed his sides and looked down at the ground, defeated.

“There’s plenty of room for all of us, big guy,” Prentiss offered her hand, inviting him to the couch. Spencer took it with a smile and sat down awkwardly with his hands resting on his thighs. She draped the blanket over the three of them.

“I’m sorry for being a couch hog.”

“I’m sure you are,” Prentiss snickered.

“It’s alright, Reid, you seem like you always need the sleep. We were just having fun. Did we go too far?” Morgan asked sincerely, arm around Emily and hand on Reid’s shoulder.

“Nah.. I-I had fun too. I mean, I haven’t laughed that hard in a while. I don’t think you guys have either actually.”

“Yeah, well, you did look really funny.” Prentiss said.

Spencer nudged her with a smile, earning him a poke which he quickly followed with a soft noooo don’t.

Morgan scratched the side of his head, mostly to teasingly get his attention. But it felt nice. “Start preparing for a lot more of that.”

“Hmm.. my mom used to do this for me.”

“Tickle you?”

“Uh, no. Stroke my hair. Whenever I got a bad headache, she would tell me to sleep, and then she would pet me until I did.”

“Do you have a headache now?”

“Earlier, a little.”

Without saying any more, Morgan patted down his (now) short hair before stroking up and down soothingly.

“Like that?”

Spencer slumped over and began fake-snoring. Morgan withdrew his hand and sat up a little straighter, which immediately woke him back up “I’m kidding I’m kidding I’m kidding please just- keep doing what you were doing.” They returned to their original positions after Morgan shot him a warning look.

Prentiss rested her head on his shoulder. He leaned his own head back against the couch and allowed himself to relax. The reality of Emily being there with all of them suddenly hit him. Countless nights he begged for her death to be reversed, to be a hoax. To be replaced even. Back then he wished to go to another reality, somewhere without the pressure and the stress, somewhere he couldn’t feel the world. But now, how lucky was he for her to be returned, for her to be truly safe and sound and laughing with them again? He would rather be nowhere else.

He checked his watch, there was two hours left of the flight. The three of them fell asleep very quickly, but rather than try to skip through time, Spencer savored the moment.

[barnesrogers-blog]

Why does my mind automatically go to “He’s squirming because it tickles 🌝” and not the logical explanation of “He’s nervous she will find his gun”? Why do my brain be like this??

[guppygiggles]

Happy birthday, bigshot~ @xsunnysoftx

[hotwritergf]

The best medicine🫂

"You need to relax kid. There's only so much stress a person can take before they explode, like pop."

Derek explained, his voice soft but his words playful. He'd always known Reid was a perfectionist but there was absolutely nothing he could add to the case files that would complete them anymore than he'd already done. Spencer always found the cases with children the most emotionally demanding, especially when it was all out of their control. Even a genius with an eidetic memory couldn't fix what had been done in this particular case.

"Actually experiencing a moderate amount of stress is normal and can even be beneficial, as it can help motivate and focus attention. Anyway, I'm fine. It's nothing I can't handle. Now stop distracting me and let me get back to my paperwork."

Spencer rolls his eyes, his mind engulfed in the case. He sips his 4th cup of coffee from that day, making a face when he tastes the bitter liquid, remembering he'd used the last of the sugar several hours prior. Reid sticks his head back into the case files, scanning over each words at an alarming rate. All of his focus is transfixed on the information in front of him, so much so that he doesn't sense Morgan sneaking up behind him. Gripping him into a bear hug from behind, trapping him against the back of his chair.

He sneaks his fingers, poising them strategically on Spence's sides, steadying them firm against his shirt-clad skin.

"What- Morgan! What on earth are you doing?"

Spencer splutters out, his voice breathy and full of confusion. He struggles against Derek's arms uselessly; whilst he's a genius, there's no way to overpower him with intellect when Morgan has him pinned.

"I told you. You need to relax, pretty boy. But don't you worry, I'm here to help you."

Morgan's smirk is audible, spinning Spencer's chair to face him, he chuckles as he looks Spencer up and down. Reid's face is flushed, a sweet blush that perfectly compliments his cheeks. Looking like a lost lamb, he glances at Derek as his heart starts to beat faster from the cheeky look in his eye.

"Ah, yes because the pinnacle of relaxation is being stuck to my chair. Of course, my foolishness."

Spencer snaps back, matching Morgan's playfulness.

"Just wait Dr Reid, you're gonna be so relaxed that you're not gonna know what's hit you. Now I'm gonna touch you, is that okay?"

Reid nods shyly, unsure of how the situation is going to play out.

"You're safe with me, remember that. Now, I'm gonna need you to laugh for me."

Morgan teases, Reid's demeanor still confused and slightly fearful but when he lets out the breath he's been holding this entire time Derek knows he's okay.

"Laugh for you? What do you-"

Spencer shrieks under his fingers, they poke and prod in the spaces between his ribs. Scratching at all the clothed skin he could reach, smiling down at the snickering genius.

"No! Stop!-"

He begs, throwing his head back and allowing himself to laugh openly. Mentally begging that Morgan doesn't find his sweet spot, he could handle being tickled on his ribs for a while, but his under arms? That's a different story.

Derek traces his fingers over the thin shirt, traveling down to his sides and scribbling his nails over his belly.

"Aww, look at you! Pretty boy can't think when he's getting tickled huh?"

He teases with a singsong tone to his voice, holding Reid in place as much as he can as he writhes in his grip.

"Morgan! Stop!"

Reid begs, letting out a snort of laughter. Derek coos, filling the air with aww's. Spencer pulls at his arms, desperately trying to clamp them to his sides to protect himself from the ticklish onslaught.

He swallows hard and makes a strangled noise, almost like it was stuck in his throat. Derek's fingers squeeze up his sides, reaching his armpits.

"No! Anywhere but there!"

Spencer squeaks a high-pitched noise, trying to swivel the chair around to knock Morgan's balance. His co-worker winks, a shit eating grin rising his lips up into a smile, his dimples deepen and becoming more prominent.

"Oh bad spot huh? Don't worry, it's not gonna hurt, it'll just tickle."

Morgan lets out a laugh of his own as he swirls one finger in each underarm. Practically sitting on Reid's lap, restraining him more as he leans over him. Spencer bucks his hips frantically, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Refusing to look Derek in the eye as he bellows out his demands for him to stop. His demands are only met with a smirk and fingers digging under his arms, searching for the most sensitive spots. When he notices Spence wheeze, gasping for air, his fingers still and remove from his underarms. Derek's hands find Reid's hair, petting it softly, running them through the strands soothingly.

"Breathe kid. It's okay, I got you."

Morgan whispers into his ear as Spencer lets residual giggles spill from his lips.

"You- you are so mean."

Spencer pants, eventually catching his breath and chuckling at his own comment.

"Maybe a little, but you don't seem as stressed now. I'm right aren't I?"

"Well there is such thing as tickle therapy, Tickling therapy releases endorphins into the body, known as the happy hormone, this has an undoubted effect on relieving stress and improving health. But the ancient Romans actually used tickling as a method of torture."

Reid rambles, grateful to be able to speak without being cut off by his own laughter. Morgan smiles down at him once more, happily looking at his best friend. His hair is messy and he's a little sweaty, but his smile is beaming from ear to ear.

"Is that so Dr? You know I'm here to give you 'therapy' whenever you need it pretty boy."

Derek ruffles Reid's hair playfully, rough-housing with him once more. Spence would never admit it, but despite his aversion of touch over his phobia of germs, he loved these moments with his brother.

[barnesrogers-blog]

This is everything.

I was the one who asked for the criminal minds hc but the one person I was interested in hearing a hc for was Spencer Reid. I totally understand if it would be difficult to do because you’re not into the fandom anymore.

Oh I can totally do some hc's for Dr. Ticklish Beyond Reason Spencer Reid.

Spencer is obviously canonically ticklish on his torso (PRENTISS POKED HIM AND HE REACTED LIKE THE DORK HE IS, HE'S TICKLISH, DAMNIT). He's suuuuuuper ticklish on his ribs and hips. He's a super genius, and he always attempts to think his way out of being ticklish, but his brain short circuits every time he's tickled. He was rarely tickled as a child. He was extremely bullied in school, he roomed alone during college, and he never gave tickling a second thought when he entered adulthood.

Until he met Derek Morgan.

It was their second case, and it had gone pretty great, so the team was very happy and relaxed on the plane ride back to Virginia. JJ, Derek, and Emily were playfully poking and prodding one another. Emily and Derek ganged up on JJ, causing Spencer to blush furiously as he watched his new teammates tickle each other. Derek noticed, asked why he was blushing, to which Spencer just spluttered facts about torture. Not even being able to say the word tickling, though. Derek smirked, asking Spencer if he was ticklish. At Spencer's crazy red face, Derek then proceeded to use every variation of the word 'tickle.' Gideon then helpfully added that Spencer was indeed very ticklish, especially on his ribs. Spencer turned wide and betrayed eyes on Gideon, but could do nothing more as Derek decided to test that declaration.

Gideon had been spot on. Spencer was tickled nonstop for the rest of the flight. Hotch hadn't intervened at all, despite Spencer's pleads. Hotch had actually stated that this was a type of hazing he'd allow.

Spencer isn't a ler, but he playfully goose his teammates sides when he knows he can get away with it. Being the youngest on the team, and seriously just freaking adorable, Spencer is prone to being on the receiving end of many tickle attacks. Derek and Penelope being his two biggest attackers.

He'll never admit it (unless he's forced to), but Spencer actually loves being tickled. He's always so carefully put together, and he's used to having to fight for everything in his life. It's nice to lose control every so often.

[supermarvel-fics]

You Say Embarrassing, I Say Cute

merry (early) christmas @galacticlee3 !! I was your squealing santa this year <3 i was so happy to be writing this for you since I love writing ler!spencer and I know you enjoy my work. hope you enjoy!!! special thanks to @squealing-santa for putting this together ❤️

word count: 1,400

pairing: spencer reid x reader (romantic)

summary: reader needs a massage and Spencer tries helping

“God, my neck is killing me,” You sighed, rubbing it gently as you rolled your head from side to side. “Next time, remind me to stretch before taking down a 250-pound killer.”

Spencer laughed quietly, his head down as he read the files, but his eyes flitted up to you. He watched as you attempted to massage your own neck, noticing how it was alleviating your pain. “I don’t think stretching would help. He slammed you against a wall. What you’re experiencing is mild whiplash.”

“Well, it hurts,” You groaned, leaning forward in your seat to rest your elbows on your knees, hands cradling your heavy head. Spencer shut the file, his attention now fully onto you. He had been watching you a lot recently. You caught his attention early on; a giggle Spencer had never heard before had him asking JJ who you were. She explained that you were an internal transfer to the BAU. You’d been working in domestic terrorism before.

He was smitten with you since then, but wouldn’t dare say that out loud. Though, he had an inkling that Penelope already knew. She was good at reading people romantically.

He longed to be the one to care for you; holding your hand when things got scary, hugging you when you were down, making you hot tea when you were sick. He battled with his own thoughts as he observed you sighing in defeat.

His hands were nimble and mildly cold, but maybe he could help.

“I—” Spencer started, cutting himself off before he could finish. His stomach churned with a nervousness he’d never experienced before. Your head slowly lifted to catch Spencer swiveling his chair back to face his desk.

“What, Spence?”

Spence. He loved it when you called him that. Before you joined the team, JJ and Emily had been the only 2 to ever coin that nickname and while he never minded it, he wouldn’t say he loved the way it made him feel when it spilled from their lips. With you, it made a fire ignite in his chest.

Spencer cleared his throat and anxiously fiddled with his fingers. “I was just—um, well… I could try and h-help if you want. With your neck, you know…”

You smiled, more at Spencer’s stuttering than at the offering he gave you. He was normally timid in social conversations—a sharp turn from when he’s authoritative on a case—but it was endearing. You knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Spencer had taking a liking to you. Flattered wasn’t the right word to describe how you felt about it. Possibly enchanted or ‘mutual’.

“You really wouldn’t mind?” You asked him, already knowing his answer. Spencer perked up and gave you a tight-lipped smile, shaking his head. “Because that would be very helpful.”

“I’m not saying I’d be particularly good at it, but I can try,” He replied, voice shaking slightly. He was nervous, but looked terrified. You giggled and shrugged the best you could without putting yourself in discomfort.

“It’ll be fine, Spence. Anything at all would probably help,” You said, turning your desk chair around so that your back was now facing him. You heard the squeak of his as he made to stand up, then the pitter of his feet as he sauntered to stand directly behind you. He let out a breath and you shivered slightly as the cold air of it just barely grazed your skin, sending goosebumps down your spine.

“Where is the center of your pain?” He asked you. Lifting your right hand, you pointed to the base of your neck.

“Here, mostly. And a little near my shoulder blades,” You answered, suddenly shy about the situation. It’s just Spencer—no reason to be nervous. Holding your breath, you awaited Spencer’s touch and once he finally made contact, you flinched.

“Sorry!” He said, immediately retracting his hand.

“No, no, Spence, it’s fine! I just can’t see, so I didn’t know when you were about to touch me,” You assured him, chuckling under your breath. “I’m ready now.”

“You’re sure?”

You smiled, even though he couldn’t see. “I’m sure.”

Still, you held your breath and tensed out of instinct as you felt Spencer’s hand rest on the back of your neck. He gently pressed into the place where your neck and back met with his thumb, easily becoming more confident as he felt you relax under his fingertips.

“Right here?” Spencer questioned you. You hummed a short and quiet response and he grinned wider at you. “Just tell me if anything hurts.”

Spencer worked his fingers in that spot until your skin began turning red from the continuous rubbing, then slid his hand over to the crook of your neck on the right side. You squealed and shrugged your shoulder up, trapping his hand.

Realizing what you’d done, you released him, swiveling around in panic. “Oh, God! I’m sorry! I just… well, I’m a little…”

“Ticklish,” Spencer smiled, finishing your sentence for you. You blushed as your head fell, eyes looking into your lap.

“Yeah. I thought I’d gotten over that… It’s so embarrassing,” You mumbled, bringing your hand up to your neck to cover up the ticklish spot.

Spencer, on the inside, felt like he’d just won the lottery. What better way to get close to someone than to tickle them? On the outside, though, he kept his composure. He reached out, placing his hand on your arm, prompting you to look up at him.

“It’s not embarrassing. It’s a normal response. Everyone is at least a little ticklish and anyone who says they aren’t, are lying. It has to do with nerve endings. And you can’t just get over being ticklish,” Spencer explained, sneakily reaching down with his free hand to pinch your side gently. You yelped and looked up at him, unaware that a smile was creeping onto your face as well. “Now, turn back around. I’ll be careful.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, obeying his words. Your chair squeaked at it pivoted back to its previous position. Spencer’s eyes shifted to where your hand was still covering your neck and smirked to himself before wiggling his finger into your armpit.

“AHA!” You whipped your elbow down and leaned forward. “Spence!”

“Your hand was still on your neck,” Spencer shrugged, an uncharacteristic shit-eating grin on his lips. You grunted and situated yourself back against the chair, sighing dramatically.

Spencer went back to massaging, putting enough pressure not to tickle you, but as he moved to that spot between your shoulder blades and he braced his other fingers onto your ribs, you giggled again, arching away from him.

“Spencer! You said you’d be careful!” You chastised him.

“I was trying to help you!” He replied, going to squeeze at your ribs again. “It’s not my fault you’re too ticklish to handle it.”

“WAHAHA! Noho!” You laughed, squirming in your seat. “Ihit’s embaharrassing!”

Spencer began tickling every exposed spot he could find, watching as you attempted to block each and every one from him. He clicked his tongue. “There’s nothing wrong with being ticklish! Everyone is.”

“Spehehence!”

“Now, repeat after me: ‘it’s okay to be ticklish’,” Spencer ordered, contracting his fingers into your sides with vigor. Had you had any control over your body, you might have stood up to get away from his attack, but you knew that you weren’t strong enough to stand. Plus, you didn’t actually mind TOO much.

“I’m nohohot saying thahat!” You yelled back through your giggles.

Spencer tickled up your torso, forcing his hands under your arms and vibrating his fingers as best as he could. That really got you laughing. “I’m not stopping until you admit it.”

“OKAY, OKAY, OKAHAHAY! IT’S OKAY TO BEHEHE TICKLIHISH!” You belly-laughed, a snort sneaking out at the last second. You instantly covered your mouth, whining and cradling your head in your free hand. “I can’t believe yohou made me snort.”

“It was cute,” Spencer responded quietly, surprisingly confident in his tone. He shuffled to stand in front of you, squatting down so that he was face to face with you. “I think everything you do is cute.”

In shock, your head whipped up, smiling at his confession and that the pain in your neck was basically gone. “You… you mean that?”

“Y-yeah,” He stuttered. “I do.”

Your eyes roamed his face, taking in every inch, and you bit your lip. “Well, I feel the same.” You reached out and grabbed his forearm, rubbing your thumb against his sleeve. “But I have a question.”

His eyes shot up to meet yours. “Anything.”

“You said that everyone is ticklish…”

“Yeah…”

“So, that means you are too, then?”

And with the fear in Spencer’s eyes, you already knew you had your answer.

[fanficsandfluff]

THE VERY END OF CRIMINAL MINDS SEASON 9 EPISODE 18 THAT IS ALL

[laughterisorange]

FIT TEST

A Criminal Minds Tickle Fic

(Post S9ep18, no spoilers dw)

Lee: Morgan

Lers: Reid and Garcia

Enjoy ~

“I kinda already had your fit test waved.”

Garcia stilled, sharing a glance with Reid, both of them panting on the turf. 

“What?” Reid said.

Garcia sat up higher as Morgan continued. “Yeah, Baby Girl, think about it - you’re not even in the field.” 

Morgan nodded over at Reid. “And Pretty Ricky, you already got enough case hours to qualify.” Reid slowly looked over at Garcia, who mirrored his incredulity. 

Morgan chuckled with a grin. “This was just a good time for me,” Morgan said.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Garcia stated quietly.

“If I can manage to lift my arms, I’ll hold him down.”

“I’m regaining strength.”

Morgan, still wearing a shit eating grin, keeps talking. “I told you you should have said something -” Garcia begins to rise up unsteadily to her feet. 

“ - I said - Hey, uh-uh hey -” Morgan moves back, suddenly realizing he’s about to be attacked. “Oh, oh oh,” Morgan bounces back on the turf dodging out of the way of Garcia’s swinging arms, as she charges him, Reid close behind once he stumbles upright. “You’re gettin it now!” Garcia growls at him, but she’s grinning too.

Morgan runs backwards shuffling out of the way again with Garcia in hot pursuit, yelling at him all the while.

Reid runs up, cutting Morgan off from his escape, and Morgan dives to the side to get away. “Get him!”

Morgan rolls between the two of them, misjudging his momentum and ending on his back as the two agents clamber on top of him.

“I’m gonna kill you!” Garcia yells.

Reid hits him in the leg, as Garcia goes straight for his ribs, digging and causing Morgan to flinch with a laugh.

“Oh, you like that,” Reid asks playfully, digging in behind his knees himself.

Morgan guffaws, attempting to shove them off, but to no avail, the two demons beginning their merciless attacks, strength restored.

“AHahaha, Ehehehehe!”

“How about here, huh? Huh?” Garcia scribbles on his stomach through his shirt, and Derek practically yips, before dissolving into giggles.

“Nahahaha Babe- ehehehe baby girl, dohohon’t!”

“Ohhh what the big bad Derek Morgan can’t take some tickling?!” Reid teased.

“Youhuhu’re the one to tahahahalk!”

“Oooo that is it,” Reid pulled himself up closer to Morgan’s hips.

“Get him Reid, make him eat his words!”

“No - nononono - do not, Reid, Reheheid I swear - Dah - DOHOHOHON’T!” 

Reid barely wasted a glance at Morgan, sealing his impending doom with sharp squeezes to his hips, relentless and quick.

Morgan was in hysterics. Garcia, teasing at his neck and collarbones, while Reid switched back and forth from his hips to digging in between his ribs. The Good Doctor sure knew his way around bones.

“Yeild!” Morgan shouted, “I yield, I yield!”

Garcia and Reid slowed their fingers, and got up. “Think he learned his lesson?” Reid asked Garcia, the two looking down at the still panting substitute trainer. 

“Oh yeah, he’s not gonna try anything.” 

Morgan looked at them from his spot on the ground, sitting up. “You… have ten seconds to run.”

“Spoke too soon!” Garcia and Reid raced off, Morgan chuckling at them before pushing himself to his feet. He shook his head with a mirthful huff, jogging after them. He’d catch up eventually.

———

I have been binging Criminal Minds for the past 3 months, watching it for the first time, and was inspired to write this Drabble, seeing the out scene of that episode. Too perfect of a setup to pass up! 🧡

[warrenwrites]

Main Masterlist

Requesting Information:

My ask box is always open if you just wanna rant about prompts, i’ll respond to those pretty much immediately since they don’t take any planning or proof reading.

You can request romantic or platonic fics but I keep everything pretty SFW, anything otherwise will be marked as such.

Requests are open for everyone on the masterlist but it might take me time to get to them since I work full time.

Eddie Munson

The Amazing Spiderman

Moon Knight

Matt Murdock

The Sandman

Spencer Reid

Lockwood and Co

Shadow and Bone

[nhasablogg]

For love to replace your shame

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Characters: Morgan/Reid, the BAU

Summary: The BAU are dealing with an UnSub who breaks into people’s homes and ties them up to tickle them without their consent. Reid, who knows a surprising amount of information about tickle kinks, is used as bait. Things go wrong, because of course they do.

A/N: Okay so! @ticklishraspberries was entirely right all this time and Criminal Minds is an amazing show, who would’ve thought! This one deals with a creep and some noncon tickling, but I hope I managed to make the discussion nuanced enough to show it’s not all black and white. We get some Moreid at the end, although Morgan is obviously pining for way longer. Not sure of my title, but I have nothing better. Enjoy!

Warnings: Ungraphic noncon tickling, tickle kinks, some ongoing trauma

Words: 12k

(Read on ao3)

The whole case screamed kidnapping attempts, but the BAU swiftly realized there was never supposed to actually be any kidnapping involved after they found the third victim tied up in their bed, seemingly unhurt, but scared. She claimed she’d been left there the entire night, the UnSub having broken into her home and spent approximately one hour with her before leaving. The only reason she was found was due to her not having shown up for work in the morning, which was so unlike her that her colleagues immediately contacted the authorities. The BAU arrived on scene after a short car ride only due to him not being the first one to be found like this.

“Not that I want him to murder people,” the chief had said. “But this behavior is strange enough that it makes me nervous.”

And nervous was exactly what the victims described the masked perpetrator to be, claiming they had paced the room after the initial ambush and made the victims watch them from the bed, all of them terrified, all of them unaware that they would eventually just leave the room and never return.

It was only once the fourth victim was found that any type of motive seemed to have been involved.

“He… tickled him?” Morgan rubbed at his temples. “For an hour?”

“Not entirely,” Gideon replied. “The victim said he’d first spent about twenty or so minutes hyping himself up to do it. Said it was intense, but seemingly brief once he started. As if the UnSub got one short burst of courage before he fled the scene. We’re dealing with someone who might want to try out their fantasies on people, but is afraid to.”

“Well, maybe he’s afraid now,” Prentiss said. “Who knows what could happen if he keeps doing this and getting away?”

“He’ll get bolder,” Hotch agreed. “And maybe he eventually won’t end up leaving at all.”

“That’s messed up.” Morgan glanced at Reid. “You’re not gonna share a bunch of facts about tickling with us, pretty boy?”

Reid looked up as if startled. “Right.” He cleared his throat. “T-tickle torture had been around for centuries. It was used in ancient Japan as a form of punishment when the need arose for a punishment to be administered without leaving any visible marks. There is also a consensual form of tickling which is vastly used among fetish communities, usually involving bondage of some sort. Although in recent years more evidence has surfaced that there isn’t always a sexual nature to it and some people might just simply-” He shrugged. “-enjoy it.”

“Why exactly do you know all that?” Morgan asked, shaking his head. “We think this guy is too scared to seek out like-minded people or something?”

“Possibly,” Reid said. “Some people will find this fascination, whatever form it may come in, to be embarrassing and alienating. Many find these urges overwhelming.”

“And eventually they allow them to seize control.” Gideon switched to an image of the four-poster bed of their latest victim. “He ties them up with rope, which takes longer, but I suspect using handcuffs without retrieving them once he leaves doesn’t make sense. Ties both the hands and feet, although not tight enough to really hurt them.”

“That could point to hesitation,” Hotch said.

Gideon nodded. “Or he enjoys seeing them squirm.”

Reid took a nearly - nearly - inaudible breath before he said, “Some people want their, uh, ticklees to be entirely immobile, while others want to be able to see them struggle.”

Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Ticklees?”

“The person receiving the tickling,” Reid said. “As opposed to a tickler.”

“There are terms?”

Reid met Morgan’s eye only briefly before saying, “There are terms for most things, yes. We’re talking about a whole community here. He’s painting a predatory picture, but for the most part these types of communities mostly want to be left to themselves, especially the types that revolve around aspects of humanity which are slightly more frowned upon. You know, same sex relationships, neurodivergence such as autism, other minorities. Things that don’t inherently hurt anyone, but are different from the general norm.” Reid shook his head. “They just want acceptance. I’m not saying this is necessarily a minority in the same sense, but you know what I mean.” He trailed off, seemingly aware that everyone was looking at him and refusing to meet anyone’s eye.

“You sure know everything about everything,” Morgan said, tilting his head at him, no teasing in his voice now.

Reid turned back to Gideon. “How would the victim explain the interaction?”

“Jarring,” Gideon said. “Said he kept jumping between spots once he’d started. As if he was afraid to linger for too long. Fortunately for the victim he didn’t seem to be too ticklish, which could explain the seemingly interrupted attempt. He wasn’t getting the reaction he was hoping for.”

“But instead of lashing out once things went wrong, he left.” Prentiss exhaled. “Not the typical reaction of someone who was out of control.”

“We’re dealing with someone who’s probably spent a lot of time trying to make these attempted tickle sessions happen. He’s still hesitant. He’s disappointed, but seems to lash out on himself rather than his victims.”

“He’s insecure,” Hotch added. “Inexperienced. Maybe he’s young. He attacks both men and women.”

Morgan said, “He bisexual?”

Gideon nodded. “Maybe. Or maybe just desperate. For him to have known his victims would be home alone all night it shows he must’ve kept watch for a while, and yet there’s only a matter of days between the attempts.”

“Maybe he knows them.” All eyes were back on Reid. He met Gideon’s. “I, uh, happen to know of a- tickle club. In town. The Feather? Or well, it’s more of a department of a club? It’s part of a bigger fetish chain which has several smaller locations close by catering to certain- interests. The biggest one is the BDSM one. ”

“How the hell do you know that?”

Reid met Morgan’s gaze. “Take one guess.”

Morgan burst into laughter. “Doctor Reid!” he said incredulously. “I never would have pegged you as someone who even goes into clubs at all.”

“Please shut up,” Reid said, looking down at his notes again. “I’ve never gone inside.”

“It’s possible the UnSub met the victims there,” Gideon said, ignoring Morgan’s snickering. “Maybe it was harder to connect with someone. Maybe it wasn’t what he thought it’d be like and it made him frustrated. Reid.” Reid looked up in alarm and Gideon did a relatively poor attempt at holding back a grin. “I think it’s time for you to go inside.”

*

“So are you ticklish?”

“Please, Morgan.”

Morgan held up his hands. “It’s just a question! A mighty relevant one may I add. Don’t want you to get attacked in there.” He made to poke him, but Reid slapped his hand away. “Aw, you’re no fun. Though I’m sure we will see plenty of people having fun soon,” he said, examining the building which, other than the relatively small sign of a feather blinking in an afternoon-dulled neon pink, looked like a regular building.

Reid said, “They should be open, although the, uh, specific activities don’t start until later.” He turned to Morgan. “Right now it’s just a bar.”

“Mm, pity. I was looking forward to seeing people giggle.”

Reid grabbed the door handle. “Really?”

Morgan shrugged. “Yeah, why not? Got curious. Did some digging. Or well, asked Garcia.”

“Did you like what you heard?”

“I wasn’t as appalled as I would’ve been had I not heard your passionate defense of it earlier. Now it just felt like something that’s not my cup of tea, but totally cool at the same time, you know?”

Reid opened the door and the faint sound of jazz met their ears. “Yeah, I get it.”

Hotch, who had been entirely silent throughout their conversation, took the lead once inside. “FBI. I’m SSA Hotchner. This is Agent Morgan and Doctor Spencer Reid.” They all showed their badges to the quite frankly extremely alarmed young man working the bar. He could barely be of legal age to be there at all, let alone work there on his own. “We just want to ask a few questions.”

“We have our permit,” he said. “And never missed rent.”

Hotch raised his hand. “Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble here. We’re mainly interested in your clientele.”

“What they do isn’t illegal either.”

“No, but when someone ties people up in their homes without their consent and starts doing what you do here it becomes a bit concerning,” Morgan said.

The guy’s eyes widened. “The hell?”

“That’s what we said.” Morgan let out a laugh, which made the kid visibly relax. “We’re just here to ask whether you’ve noticed someone who’s, well, a little strange come around here? Someone who’s seemingly new to the scene, but who keeps appearing most nights. Doesn’t really talk to anyone?”

“Dude, that’s half the people here.” The guy rolled his eyes, although his voice held fondness. “Some people here are very… shy. But they eventually find themselves, and their circle. Nine out of ten times at least. It’s pretty vulnerable, you know, coming here. That’s why I’ve suggested we start doing coded bracelets, but the boss says it will put too much pressure on people knowing why they came in to begin with. What they’re looking for and all. Some people are simply curious.”

“So there’s no one who seems particularly suspicious? Someone giving you a bad vibe?”

He looked at Morgan and shook his head. “Not that I can think of, but to be fair, it becomes quite- distracting to work here once everyone starts giggling.”

Hotch nodded. “We’ll come back tonight then.”

The guy broke into a grin. “Better be careful. Many people really value consent here, but might get poked once or twice anyway.”

Morgan patted Reid’s back, who was hovering behind them as if scared to be seen. “We’ll take the risk.”

*

The club wasn’t as packed as they’d thought when they all arrived many hours later, having tried their best to dress for the occasion. Only Morgan truly managed, and even he seemed much too stiff to look like he was fully enjoying himself.

“So much is happening,” he said, and he was right. While they’d been away the premises had changed and they now found thick curtains lining the walls which hid various methods of bondage. The idea was that people had the right to not have to see the activities happening unless they consented, although you could hear the faint sound of panicked laughter through the music. When the team peeked behind one of the curtains they found just simple shackles on the wall, meant to chain one’s hands above the head while the feet were free but useless. The one next to it had a chair with ropes. The guy working the bar (how long even was his shift?) told them they had several rooms in the back where people could go for more “adult fun, if you know what I mean. Not like that,” he added at Morgan’s look. “But there are more full body bondage opportunities that’s just much too personal to be held here. Although there’s one room where you can have an audience. Some of them like it.”

“What’s this?” Gideon asked, pointing to a box which was really just a bucket.

“The tool machine. You can stick your hand in and pick a tool at random. You know, feathers, brushes, toothbrushes, all that. This one.” He tapped the one next to it, which was transparent. “You can see what’s available and you grab what you want. Some people have a clearer vision while others want to be surprised.”

They walked into the bodies, some dancing, some talking, some engaging in quick and playful tickle fights and spilling their drinks during it and having to make their way back to the bar to replace it. A brilliant marketing strategy for the bartender’s tip jar.

Morgan caught a woman’s gaze and averted his eyes with a slight panic. “We can’t eliminate the idea that the victims might’ve met the UnSub here and are simply too embarrassed to admit it.”

“Maybe we should talk to them again,” Gideon said, visibly uncomfortable with the proximity of people. Despite the unfamiliarity they all seemed more curious than perplexed now about it all. Morgan hoped it would calm Reid, who’d not said a single word since they arrived, nor during their initial visit that afternoon, which was unusual. Profilers were good at their job, but he tried not to take guesses as to why he was being strange about this. It wasn’t, at the end of the day, his business.

They split up, Morgan and Reid walking together simply out of habit. “You see that?” Morgan pointed to a woman curling her fingers into another woman’s neck, making her shake with laughter if only for a moment. “That’s actually cute. I can see why people might like this nonsexually too.”

Reid glanced back at him and smiled, something small and subtle but oh so obvious to the BAU member. Morgan had to keep himself from actually reaching out to tickle him just to see it again. No matter his connection to this - was there even one or was he just being his usual knowledgeable self? - he was certain Reid was ticklish. He felt like the type. The type to squirm and flail and curl up. His reactions loud yet quiet at the same time.

Or maybe Morgan was just making that up.

“We’re looking for someone who’s seemingly shy,” Reid said, walking deeper into the room. Morgan had to jog in order to keep close enough to hear him over the booming music, which had replaced the afternoon’s calm jazz. “Someone not actively participating, and yet looking a little too intently at the others.”

“So not someone who’s making sure not to stare out of politeness or maybe timidness.”

“Exactly. This individual is desperate for it, but something stops him from joining.”

Someone bumped into Reid who in turn flew into Morgan. “Sorry!” the man yelled out, his grin huge as he pointed to someone behind him. “They got my sweet spot.”

He left as quickly as he’d arrived and Morgan helped Reid to steady himself again, unable to stop himself from laughing. “This is so… different.”

Reid turned to look at him, his face suddenly pink. “It is.”

Morgan tilted his head. “You’re making it really hard not to ask, you know. But I won’t, don’t worry.” He patted his shoulder. “Let’s keep looking.”

The room was becoming livelier by the minute, laughter and screaming and squirming filling the space and making Morgan feel as if he didn’t fully fit anymore. Reid was walking ahead of him, which wasn’t necessarily unheard of, but Morgan suspected it might’ve had something to do with him wanting to make sure Morgan couldn’t see his face unless he wanted him to. He could imagine it though. All wide, shifty eyes, the rest of his face immobile as was usually the case when Reid tried not to give too much of himself away.

His eyes told on him, though. Always had.

“Hey.” He reached out to get his attention, his fingertips grazing the small of his back. He wondered if it tickled him. Wondered if every single time they’d touched had been ticklish in any way. It was ridiculous. He didn’t even actually know if Reid was ticklish at all. “Look.” He pointed to the corner of the room when Reid turned toward him, directing his gaze to a lone man standing by the wall, visibly uncertain. “He look suspicious to you?”

Reid didn’t reply at first, his eyes fixed on the stranger. “Not necessarily,” he finally said, turning back to Morgan. “He might’ve just arrived, but we can watch him for a bit longer.”

“You do that,” Morgan said, patting his back. “I want to take a look around.”

He left him and wondered if he should’ve offered to do the opposite. Have Reid walk around without feeling his gaze on him. Free to watch. Free to explore. But they were working a case here, and he felt Reid would be grateful to not be given the opportunity to stray during it anyway, what with a group of incredibly skilled profilers walking around among him.

Morgan tried not to think about it.

He peeked behind one of the curtains, finding a man nearly tearing off his limbs from how hard he was pulling at his restrained hands, a woman letting her nails trail the bare skin of his midriff, up and down as he stood there nearly dangling in the handcuffs. Morgan felt he was intruding, which he technically was, and left, unsure of how he felt. He wasn’t meant to be seeing any of this, really, being merely a curious outsider, and so he stopped trying to understand it and focused on the people who weren’t laughing.

There weren’t many of them.

“Let’s regroup,” Gideon said when he bumped into him. He’d dropped his uncomfortable expression and was merely in work mode now. “Where’s Reid?”

“I left him watching a man.”

“Anyone of interest?”

“Interesting enough.”

But when they arrived at the spot Reid should’ve been at he was nowhere in sight.

Neither was the man.

Something in Morgan panicked, even though it was more likely for Reid to have wandered off than for him to have been forced away.

“He was right here,” he said, turning to the others. “I was barely gone for ten minutes.”

“Relax,” Prentiss said, shooting him a calming smile. “Maybe he went to the bathroom. This isn’t a crime scene.”

Hotch said, “Try calling him.”

“Right.” He fished out his phone. “A miracle if he hears anything through this music though,” he muttered, dialing his number anyway.

He craned his head over the crowd in the hopes of seeing that unruly head of hair. He couldn’t pinpoint why he felt nervous about this. As far as he was aware there lay no danger in here, only people living life in a way he’d never thought of before.

But it was a case, and the image of Reid tied up without his consent briefly crossed his mind. “Come on, pick up.”

“We’ll find him,” JJ said. “He probably just saw something. He can’t have gone far.”

“God, what if he gets tickled to death.”

“Highly unlikely, seeing as the clientele values consent more than anyone I’ve ever heard of,” Reid’s voice suddenly said.

“Jesus, Spencer,” Morgan sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “Where are you?”

“On your left. I’m waving.”

“I see you.”

“I lost the man.”

“Never mind that.”

Morgan hung up and watched Reid make his way through the crowd. “I don’t think he’s our UnSub,” he said when he joined them.

“You don’t?”

“He had several of the characteristics we were looking for, but he did one thing which made me cross him off of the list of suspects immediately.”

“Which was?”

Reid’s face pinkened. Come to think of it he’d been looking a bit flustered ever since Morgan caught the sight of him in the crowd. “He asked me to tickle him.”

“Ah.”

“Said he’d noticed me looking.”

“I see.”

“As far as I’m aware the UnSub does the tickling.”

“Right.” Morgan grinned. “Did you accept?”

Hotch appeared in Morgan’s line of vision before Reid could reply. “Outside. Come on. I can’t think with this music.”

It was cold outside. Morgan could smell snow in the air, the ground glistening with frost. His sweat would start cooling down and he would be freezing soon, but in that moment he felt as if he was overheating. “What a night.”

“And we were only in there for half an hour,” Prentiss said.

“And we nearly lost Reid during that half hour,” Morgan said, turning to grin at him only to find him staring at the door of the club, immobile. “Spencer?” When the hell had Morgan started calling him Spencer? “What’s wrong?”

Reid pointed to the glass door. “Him.”

“What?”

He turned to look at them. “We’ve been looking at it wrong. We’re not looking for someone who’s too shy to participate, but someone desperate enough to force people into it. Because he can’t participate. He’s frustrated.”

“The bartender,” Gideon suddenly said.

“I talked to him,” JJ said. “He’s here almost every night. He knows nearly everyone.”

“So the chances of him just picking random people are slim,” Gideon said. “He probably knows exactly who’s home alone when. Regulars have a tendency of trusting servers way too much once alcohol gets involved.” For some reason he moved his gaze to Reid. “We need to talk to the victims again.”

*

“Why me?”

“Reid, you really want me to answer that?”

Reid had his back to Morgan, but he could see him stiffening. Hotch was walking beside him and turned to shoot Morgan a warning look which he chose to ignore. They’d barely slept. He couldn’t bother with Reid’s attempt at playing nonchalant. He’d never questioned why he should be the one to meet victims before.

“Look,” he said with a sigh, regretting his tone. “You were familiar with it, and so I assume you’re the least likely to judge and they will feel it. That will be important.”

“We need them to open up,” Hotch agreed. “Because if they don’t we have no reason to suspect the bartender, but I’m going to assume they find this embarrassing since they never said anything about it. At least in the case of the last victim. I reckon the others couldn’t know what he’d been planning on doing.”

Reid hummed, but didn’t answer. Morgan thought of pulling him into a side-hug, letting his fingers dance over the back of his ribs and telling him to lighten up. But he had a feeling Reid wouldn’t appreciate that, especially now.

He still didn’t know if he was ticklish. Sometimes it felt he would never find out.

And why did that matter anyway?

The latest victim, a young man barely older than Reid, let them into his apartment warily, and Morgan felt a bit bad for the questions he was about to receive. He could only imagine how awkward it would feel for the freaking FBI to ask you about your kinks out of nowhere and for you to have to answer them honestly.

“Thanks for talking to us, Mr Johnson,” Hotch said.

Johnson crossed his arms. “Anything to catch this creep. Have you found him?”

“We may have a suspect, but we need you to be honest with us about something.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

Hotch turned to Reid. Your turn.

Reid cleared his throat. “The one thing about your case which sticks out from the others is the fact that you got tickled, so we visited The Feather.”

Reid purposefully said the club’s name and they watched Johnson stiffen semi-visibly. To them it was as clear as day. “The what?” he said anyway. Morgan nearly smiled. He sounded like Reid, in a way.

“The tickle club downtown,” Reid explained. “Are you familiar with it?”

“Not really.”

“Mr Johnson. Curt. Can I call you Curt?”

Curt shrugged. “Sure.”

“We need you to be honest, because if you’ve never been there we have no reason to suspect the person we suspect as there will be no connection.”

Morgan and Hotch fell back and watched Reid lean back against the wall, relaxed and calm, but tilting his head in a way that would hopefully make Curt feel safe.

Curt flushed. “I- okay. I’ve been. A few times.”

“We went last night. It’s fun, isn’t it?”

“I guess.”

Reid smiled, eyes downcast as he continued. “I’d never been inside before. I guess this was as good of a reason to try it. Well, not try it. Working a case and all.”

Curt let out a laugh. “I get you. I, uh, don’t think I gave anyone any reason to come do that to me, though. I’m a ler.”

This time it was Curt who was testing Reid. Morgan and Hotch watched Reid’s grin grow, but the way he’d tucked his hair behind his ears made the tips of his ears turning red quite visible to them all.

Morgan shook his head. Clever bastard.

“We spoke to the bartender,” Reid continued. “Are you close?”

“Charlie? We’ve talked. He’s almost always there.” He’d dropped his denial, which was a good sign. “I wouldn’t say he’s my best friend, but he’s friendly. Why? You don’t suspect him, do you?”

“He’s a person of interest, that’s all. But he fits well enough with the profile.”

“Which is?”

“Someone who observes and never joins.”

“Well, he works.”

“And yet he’s never gone there when he’s off, has he?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“If he’s usually there when it’s open it means he rarely has the day off when the club is open. It can be frustrating to not be able to find what you want, especially something so… vulnerable.”

Curt cocked his head, smirking at Reid now. “You’re very right, Mr-?”

“Doctor.”

“Funny last name.” Reid laughed and Curt added: “You have a nice laugh.”

Morgan suddenly didn’t like this at all.

*

“You were flirting with him.”

“I wasn’t flirting with him.”

“Uh huh. Well, he certainly was flirting with you.”

“That doesn’t mean I was flirting back,” Reid said, running a hand through his hair. They were in the elevator, Hotch between them. “You wanted me to talk to him, right? I was charming, right? Timid, safe, relatable. Wasn’t I, Hotch?”

“You certainly knew what to say to get him to talk, yes,” he replied, not looking at either of them. “Now stop bickering. I truly do believe this Charlie is our guy.”

“I wasn’t bickering,” Morgan mumbled as they exited the elevator and walked into headquarters. “But better be careful, Reid. If you start becoming too friendly Charlie might kidnap you next.”

“I’ve barely talked to him. I can’t see that happening.”

“I’m just looking out for you. I don’t know how ticklish you are.”

Reid rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to share that information if that’s what you thought.” But he was blushing and suddenly Morgan was too.

Lord help him.

Morgan and Hotch were the first ones in the room, Reid having had to go fix something and the others not yet having arrived. Morgan sat down where he knew he would have a good view of the board, which he was sure Reid would be standing by to speak even if only for a moment. He was so focused on choosing his seat that he didn’t notice Hotch’s eyes on him at first.

“Morgan,” Hotch said, sounding rushed. “Be careful, okay?”

Morgan frowned. “Careful? I’m not ticklish.” A lie, but he truly wasn’t that bad, okay. “Why should I be careful?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Okay. Well, unlike Reid I’m not a mindreader.”

“You’re taking this case personally.”

“What? Have you seen Reid? He’s more skittish than ever.”

“You’re taking it personally because of Reid.”

Morgan spluttered, but Gideon chose that exact moment to enter the room and he wasn’t able to reply. “You okay?”

“He’s fine,” Hotch said, and Morgan could’ve sworn he saw the hint of a smile on Hotch’s lips.

“Reid, fill us in, will you?” Gideon said two minutes later, the room full and Morgan still speechless.

Reid cleared his throat and stood, and Morgan now wished he’d chosen any other seat. “We talked to Mr Johnson. He didn’t admit to our suspicion verbatim, but as our conversation continued he made it very clear he visits the club frequently and has talked to Charlie.”

“Charlie?” Prentiss asked.

“The bartender,” Reid clarified. “We talked to the other victims who, after some gentle prying, admitted to having visited the club too, so I think we can agree that the UnSub probably saw them all there.”

“And are we sure about Charlie?” JJ asked.

“They described the UnSub as about 5’4, lanky, skittish.“ Reid closed his notes. “But what really settled it was that the first victim recognized his voice when she visited the club again this past weekend.”

Prentiss threw her hands out. “So all we gotta do is prove it’s him?”

“Exactly.”

“And how do we do that?”

Reid’s face changed and Morgan realized what he was about to suggest before he even said it. “Reid, no.”

Reid found his gaze, something determined yet much too vulnerable in it. “It’s the only way.”

“It’ll take too long.”

“Not actually. The second victim said they’d only been to the club a handful of times and I don’t see any reason as to why they would lie.” Reid shrugged. “We could get it done in less than a week if I just go every day.”

“What exactly are we talking about here?” Prentiss asked and Reid turned his gaze back to her.

“I’ll go to the club and befriend Charlie. Drop hints of where I live. Maybe we can get a temporary apartment he can break into. We catch him in the act.”

“He knows you’re FBI.”

“Yes, but I never said anything so he won’t recognize my voice. And I mostly stayed out of view when we first visited him.” Morgan remembered. Reid hiding behind him, as if scared of being caught looking too hard. “You of all people know I can disguise myself quite well when I want to.”

Morgan exhaled slowly. “Just. Be careful.”

Reid smiled, something small. “I always am.”

*

“So are you ticklish?”

“Derek.”

Morgan held up his hands. “I gotta know, pretty boy. What if he actually does tie you up.”

“I’ll survive.”

“Is that so?”

Reid flushed, turning back toward the road. They were sitting across the street from the club, waiting for it to get late enough for Reid to enter. Hotch and Gideon were in another car, all of them having decided to wait outside during the hour or so Reid said he would be inside. It had taken everything in Morgan to agree not to join him.

“I don’t remember us having to take a tickle endurance test before joining the BAU,” Morgan continued, grinning as Reid’s blush intensified. “So I’m just gonna assume you’re either not ticklish at all or that you don’t fully mind it.”

“Not that I’m not easy to crack, I see.”

“Not being easy to crack and having a terrible time while tickled are different things.”

“Nor that I trust you will get to me before it happens?”

“Reid.”

Reid looked at him, maybe only because Morgan had reached out and grabbed his wrist. “I’m, uh, sensitive there,” was his reply.

Morgan raised an eyebrow. “What? Your wrist?”

“Just a little. It’s enough for me to pull away if someone traces it lightly.”

“I see.” Morgan moved his hand up toward his elbow. “And here?”

“On the inside, yes.”

His shoulder. “And here?”

“No.”

“I think you’re an upper body type of ticklish, am I correct?” Morgan hovered his hand over his ribs now, fingers wiggling in the air.

Reid covered his torso with his arms, a giggle slipping out which was so fucking adorable Morgan nearly combusted right then and there.

“Ah, so I am correct,” was all he said, his hands still hovering. “Come on, let me try.”

“That’s not how that works,” Reid choked out, but he slowly moved his hands to the side and gave Morgan slight access to his ribcage and Morgan wasted no time. “Ah, no!”

“Oh my, Spencer Reid,” Morgan sang, letting his fingers poke and prod the skin while he could, narrowly managing to not let Reid’s flailing hand collide with his nose. “Oh, this won’t do, you know. He’ll break you immediately. We should call it off.”

“No, don’t!” Reid said, answering him, or possibly just being tickled. Morgan wasn’t sure.

“Is your belly ticklish too?”

“Derek, pleas-AH!”

“Very ticklish, I see.”

The sound of Morgan’s phone going off interrupted them. A text from Hotch. ‘We can see you, you know.’ Reid started spluttering, but all Morgan could do was laugh more hysterically than the situation called for.

“Well, guess you’re ready to go meet some other giggly people now,” he said, patting his arm with a grin.

Reid huffed, rubbing at the spot he’d been tickling. “It’s not- I’m not-”

“It’s okay, Spencer. You don’t have to explain.”

Reid nodded. “Okay. I- Thank you.”

Morgan smiled innocently. “For being decent or for tickling you?”

“Oh my god, please shut up.” He opened the door. “I’m going now.”

“Have fun.”

“Shut up.”

“Spence?”

Reid turned back to him. “Yes?”

“Please be careful.”

His face softened. “I will.”

Morgan sat in the car for approximately 23 minutes before he got restless enough to become semi reckless. When he pressed his face to the window of the club he could see Reid, dressed in a mesh top which showed off an unfair amount of his abdomen, leaning against the bar and blinking his glittery eyelids at Charlie. If their theory that he was bisexual due to his way of targeting people of all genders was correct, he should be eating this up. Morgan knew he was.

Would.

His phone rang. “Get back in the car,” Gideon said tiredly.

“I just wanna see.”

“Morgan, it’s an order,” Hotch said somewhere in the background and Morgan sighed. “You can pine over him at a later date.”

“Oh, you’re mean, you know that?” he said and hung up, but not before hearing the rare sound of Hotch laughing.

He watched Reid for a moment longer, knowing he was using borrowed time. He was smiling at the bartender, something shy yet curious. Morgan felt as if he was truly watching Reid take in the situation he was in, which made him feel as if he was prying. He wondered if he would’ve ended up here without the case, blinking timidly in the crowd, or whether Reid truly lived more in his head than in real life.

Reid was disappearing into the crowd. Charlie’s gaze followed him for only a second longer than Morgan liked.

He huffed. He wondered if he would’ve ever known about this, without the case. Why would he? He’d never even tried to tickle Reid before, which was strange considering how playful he was with most people, but maybe not strange when you took into account how Reid would react to physical touch. He shied away from it, or he simply seemed entirely in awe of it. Touch starved, Morgan realized. Touch starved and unsure of how to act.

Oh, Reid.

*

“My pretend apartment is nicer than my real one,” Reid said the next day, visibly tired not from how late he’d left the club, because it hadn’t been that late and all four of them had left simultaneously, but Morgan imagined he’d stayed up half the night, pondering it all.

“Well, I hope yours has slightly more personality,” Morgan said, taking in the blank walls and beige interior. They had no time to make it quirky. Charlie wouldn’t care anyway. “But hey, at least the bed’s comfy,” he added, wiggling his eyebrows at Reid who merely rolled his eyes.

Garcia was setting up discreet cameras around the apartment, focusing specifically on the windows facing the street in this first floor apartment, the front door and the entire bedroom. Morgan had been busy trying to convince Gideon he could hide perfectly well in the spare room while waiting for the UnSub, but he kept getting shut down.

They didn’t expect the UnSub to break in tonight, since Reid hadn’t told him anything about where he lived yet, but they were planning on having Reid stay at the club until it closed the next night with the hopes Charlie would follow him as he drove to his fake apartment. They’d found out what area he lived in and had Reid set up house only ten minutes away from him to hopefully catch his attention.

“You’re gonna have to stay here for the rest of the week,” Hotch was saying, pointing to the four-poster bed. “But do try to get some sleep too, okay? We’ll alert you if we see him moving.”

“What about you then?”

“We’ll take turns sleeping, don’t worry about us.”

“The bedroom’s all set up, wonder boy,” Garcia said, swiveling around to face Reid. “But no cameras will be on while you’re alone, we promise.”

Reid shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“Well, if everything goes to plan we’ll know exactly when he shows up,” Morgan said. “No need to intrude on your privacy, as fun as it would be.” He poked Reid’s side, finding that now that he knew he was ticklish he couldn’t stop.

Reid squirmed without a sound, maybe trying to keep it cool in front of the others, maybe not wanting to alert anyone else of Morgan’s shenanigans and his adorable reactions.

Garcia grinned though, wide and toothy and utterly delighted. “Oh, do that again. I want to see him smile.”

“Your wish is my command, baby girl.”

Reid properly jerked away this time. “Hey. Don’t be mean.”

“Me? Oh, never.”

“Morgan, behave.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Morgan said, catching Hotch’s eye.

He simply pointed to the monitor which was currently resting on a chair beside the bed. “The camera’s on.”

“Oh, right.” Reid had gone red, which Morgan had found was his new favorite thing. “Looks like you’re in luck, pretty boy. Or should I say ticklish boy.”

“Oh, please, I’m sure you’re just as bad,” Prentiss said from somewhere behind him.

Morgan turned to raise an eyebrow at her. “Careful now, Prentiss. You don’t wanna start a war with me. I have two sisters.”

“Sounds to me like you’re scared, Morgan.”

“Who knew this case would turn into this,” JJ said with a laugh, and when Morgan turned to point to Reid, to say something about it being his fault, Reid had left.

He found him in the kitchen, staring into the mostly empty cupboard he’d opened. Morgan approached loudly enough to not startle him and leaned against the counter next to him. “Hey you.”

“Hey.”

“I’m sorry.”

Reid glanced at him briefly. “For?”

“Well, I assume I embarrassed you and that’s why you left. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s fine.”

“Reid.”

“You are simply trying to lighten up the mood while using relevant methods related to the case. I’m acting irrational. It’s fine.”

“Reid, please look at me.”

Reid didn’t immediately and Morgan had a terrifying moment of wondering if he’d crossed a line.

When Reid did, he looked so vulnerable Morgan wanted to cry.

“Look,” he started, crossing his arms. “I don’t really know what’s going on with you and, well, this. I’m sorry if it’s uncomfortable for you. I’m sorry if it’s nothing and we’re making it seem like it is. But just know we’re really grateful you’re doing this. I’m sorry there’s no other way.”

Reid smiled. “It seems to me as if you’re rambling, Derek Morgan.”

“Oh, shut up, pretty boy.” Morgan made to poke him out of habit and caught himself just in time. “Shit, sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Morgan saw him blush just before he turned away, finally grabbing one of the few glasses from the cupboard. “I don’t really mind it in private.”

“Is that so?”

“Don’t tease.”

“I would never.”

“Uh huh.” Reid filled his glass with water and took a sip, staring at Morgan over the edge. His face was still red. Morgan realized he’d not really seen him blush before this case. Get uncomfortable, sure, maybe even border on embarrassed, but never blush. He was slightly obsessed with it now.

“You really think this will work?” Reid asked, setting the glass down on the counter.

“I hope so,” Morgan said. “Otherwise we have no way of proving it’s him.”

“Unless we follow him.”

Morgan hummed. “Actually, maybe we should. Hey, Hotch? Reid had an idea.”

*

Morgan arrived at headquarters the next day feeling surprisingly well rested. Most of the team was already there, downing cups of coffee and looking over their plans for the day which would involve Reid going back to the club for the third night in a row and then go stay at his fake apartment. The others would be staking out outside while a couple of agents would make sure to follow Charlie in case he decided to go for another victim instead. It was as fool proof as they could make these things.

“Morning,” Morgan sang as he entered the room. “Reid here yet?”

“No.” Gideon was frowning. “I reckon I can’t be mad if he’s a few minutes late seeing as we’re forcing him to go clubbing each night, but he’s never usually not here at this time.”

“He’s not late yet though,” JJ pointed out.

“No,” Gideon replied distractedly and Morgan felt panic seize him. “Let’s wait it out a bit, okay?” Gideon said, catching his expression. “Maybe try calling him.”

“Calling him. Right.” Morgan fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed Reid’s number, the room becoming more tense the longer the phone rang without anyone answering. “Dammit. I’m going over there.”

“Morgan, wait,” Hotch started, but Morgan held out a hand to stop him.

“With all due respect, Hotch, I’m not staying here. If Reid’s on his way I will see him coming up.”

“You’re not going alone,” Gideon said, standing. “Let’s go.”

Morgan, Gideon and Hotch sped to Reid’s apartment five minutes later when the genius still hadn’t arrived and still wasn’t answering his phone. Hotch was driving only because both Gideon and Morgan were too freaked out, but that didn’t keep Morgan from urging him to drive faster.

“We should’ve followed Charlie last night too,” Gideon said. “We were careless. Careless with Reid.”

“Let’s calm down now,” Hotch said, rounding a corner. “The UnSub doesn’t actually hurt people.”

“How exactly can we know that?” Morgan asked. “We’ve only seen failed attempts. And Reid. He’s ticklish, right? I don’t think he could pretend he wasn’t. The UnSub might get crazy or something that he’s actually getting a reaction. Who knows what he will do.”

“Morgan.” Gideon’s hand reached back to touch his knee. “Breathe. Reid will be fine. He’ll probably just be tied up and unable to call anyone.”

“Oh, god.” Morgan could see it. Reid struggling against his restraints half the night, all the while remembering nothing but Tobias Hankel and how he’d treated him while tied.

Reid was half-asleep when they kicked the door in, blinking at them in a mix of confusion and relief. “Finally,” he said hoarsely, pulling weakly at his hands. “My blood flow is all messed up.”

“Oh no,” Morgan said, fully entering the room. “Shit, Reid. I’m so sorry.”

Reid exhaled. “Just get me out of these.”

Morgan and Gideon started untying the ropes while Hotch called in the others. They had a new crime scene, after all. He started in on the ropes around Reid’s ankles once done, all of them grateful that the UnSub had at least thrown a blanket over him before leaving to keep him from getting cold. He was very much nearly naked underneath.

“You okay?” Gideon asked quietly when no one said anything, finally managing to free one of his hands which Reid brought down slowly, rotating his wrist.

“I’m better now,” Reid replied, closing his eyes. “I can’t believe I actually slept, but at least that helped time pass. I knew you’d arrive in the morning.”

“We should’ve not even let him get that far.”

Reid opened his eyes. “Derek.”

“It’s the truth.”

“You couldn’t have known.” Morgan freed his other hand and Reid, of all things, brought it to Morgan’s chest. “Can someone get me water?”

“I’m on it,” Hotch said, leaving the room as quickly as a ghost while Gideon moved down to untie Reid’s foot and he was free.

They helped him sit up, Morgan grabbing the first items of clothing he could find and throwing it in his direction. “I’m sure you’d rather shower, but-”

“We need to see if there’s any DNA on you,” Gideon finished for him, smiling weakly. “Sorry.”

Reid shrugged, pulling the covers up to his chin. “It’s okay.”

“We’ll try to be quick.”

“Okay.”

“Reid.”

“Yeah?”

Gideon rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I won’t rush you, but you’re going to have to tell us exactly what happened, okay?”

“Okay.”

Morgan sighed as Reid fell back into him. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“It was definitely him,” Reid said. “He was wearing a mask, but I recognized his voice.”

“Jesus, he talked to you?”

“Not very much,” Reid mumbled. “But he, uh. He tried to tease me? It was highly uncomfortable, which he probably agreed on since he only did it a couple of times.”

Morgan wrapped his arm around him and pulled him even closer. “I’m gonna kill him,” he repeated.

Reid didn’t reply, only shut his eyes and rubbed at his wrists. The others arrived only minutes later, tiptoeing around them until JJ finally gently asked Reid to get up, leaving the room for him to get dressed.

It was all business after that and Morgan didn’t see Reid until much later, sitting curled up on his couch with Gideon who was balancing a notepad somewhat awkwardly on his lap. “So a noise woke you up.”

“Yes.”

“But before you could get your bearings the UnSub was in your bedroom.”

“Yes.”

“And then what happened?”

Reid picked at his nails, not looking at anyone in particular. “He overpowered me. Taped my mouth so I couldn’t scream before cuffing me to the bed.”

“Cuffing?”

“He wanted to restrain me quickly before changing it into ropes. It makes sense actually. No one would be still for long enough for him to tie them up properly, especially since he doesn’t actually seem to have any type of weapon with him.”

“Your mouth wasn’t taped when we found you.”

“He took it off before he left.”

“So he kept it on for the entire, uh, session?”

“To prevent me from laughing too loud since I live in an apartment complex, yes.” Reid crossed his arm. “He seemed to try to make sure I wouldn’t suffocate since I couldn’t breathe properly. I don’t think it was only hesitation, especially not once he’d been at it for a while.”

Gideon wrote something down. “How long was he at it?”

“A couple of hours. It was hard to keep count after a while, but I am pretty certain he broke in at around 1:30AM and left around 3:30. I think I fell asleep at 5 and you arrived at 8:15.”

The whole team was listening to him now, all hovering in various corners of the apartment. Morgan was standing right in front of them, not sure what to do but wishing Reid would look at him.

“Would you reckon he’s still insecure even though he got what I assume is a satisfying reaction from you?”

Reid hummed. “I would say his conscience is too strong. What difference does it make to me if he does it for two hours or five? As long as he left before morning he had as much of a chance at getting caught no matter the time, meaning not much of a chance at all.” Something crossed over Reid’s face. “But of course, he’s had no chance at checking my schedule, so maybe he got paranoid this time around.”

“He’s getting more desperate, but he’s not bold enough yet to keep going once his impulsivity has passed.” Gideon wrote something down. “Just for clarification, he did tickle you, right?”

Reid twitched and briefly met Morgan’s eyes. “Yes. He tied me up and tickled me for nearly two hours straight. After he’d undressed me.”

“Undressed you?”

“I don’t sleep in just boxers.”

Gideon looked like Morgan felt. Ready to kill a man. Ready to die for Reid. When he looked around, the entire BAU team looked exactly the same.

“That’s all he did,” Reid continued, staring a hole into the floor. “Tickled me everywhere and then left. Like I said he tried to tease me a little. ‘Do you like that?’ ‘That’s a good spot’ and so on. But he was mostly silent. It was nearly the worst part. He felt so-” Reid cut himself off, shaking his head. “Inhuman. Like I was just a thing to him. And since the tape was muffling my laughter the whole ordeal was just so silent. I felt as if I could die and no one would hear.”

JJ and Prentiss were on his side within seconds, but Reid wouldn’t accept their outstretched hands. “I’m fine now,” he insisted. “It’s been over for hours. It didn’t hurt.” He let out a humorless laugh. “It just tickled.”

“Prolonged tickling without a break does hurt,” Gideon insisted. “Especially when forced upon you like this. You don’t have to pretend as if it wasn’t terrifying, Reid.”

Reid leaned his head back and blinked at the ceiling. Morgan had a moment of panic thinking he would start crying, but he simply said in a steady voice, “I guess.”

Gideon closed his notebook. “Well, I think we have enough of the story to piece this together. I’m having agents outside his apartment and work. We’ll catch him in the act, I promise.” He patted Reid’s knee. “You rest.”

Reid sprang up so suddenly he nearly knocked over the coffee table. “No.”

“No?”

“I can’t.”

“What-”

“Stay here.”

“Reid, we can have agents outside here too, but I doubt he will return.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Don’t you want to have a shower first?” Morgan said, speaking for the first time. “Wash him off of you?”

Reid blinked at him. “We have showers at work.”

“Indeed we do,” he replied with a sigh. “All right, come on, pretty boy. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

*

Morgan panicked only for a moment about the fact that he couldn’t find Reid and hadn’t seen him for the past two hours before Garcia, clever as she was, texted him that he was in her room. When he peeked his head in, Reid was curled up on an armchair in the corner which Morgan didn’t remember belonging there, his gaze stuck on the floor. “Reid.”

“Shh, don’t disturb him,” Garcia said gently. “He’s reciting Don Quixote from memory.”

Morgan blinked. “Right.”

“He found out I’ve never read it, but that I love knight stories.”

“Well, Alonso Quijano isn’t technically a knight but merely believes it from consuming an enormous amount of chivalric romances. However, it is classified as one of the first novels, at least in western society, and therefore I found it only appropriate that she gets to hear the original story and not just the version pop culture has adopted.” Reid looked up and met Morgan’s eyes. “I just find I’m jumping between different translations and it bothers me.”

“You’re distracted,” Morgan said. “Makes sense.”

Reid looked down on the floor again. “I don’t like it,” he muttered and Morgan let out a surprised laugh.

“I’m trying to get him to eat something,” Garcia stage-whispered. “But he keeps saying after the next chapter.”

“Oh? That’s no good, pretty boy. You’ve not eaten since yesterday.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re lying. Baby girl?”

“Yes, sugar?”

“I have a protein bar on my desk. Could you get it?”

“Of course.”

Morgan turned back to Reid once Garcia had left, knowing he didn’t have much time. “Hey. You okay?”

Reid didn’t reply immediately. “Define okay.”

Morgan crouched down to get to his eye level. “I know this is weird for you. I’m sorry. But you have to remember to take care of yourself, okay?”

“This is so stupid.”

“Reid.”

“It’s, like, negative two on the trauma scale.”

“Reid, he literally tied you up and tortured you. I don’t care if he didn’t hurt you, it’s still torture. Even if you might normally like it.”

Reid covered his face. “Please stop. I can’t. Not now.”

Garcia returned before Morgan could reply. “Thanks, mama,” he said, grabbing the protein bar and forcing it into Reid’s hands. “Eat. Garcia will let me know if you don’t.”

*

“He’s hiding in Garcia’s room,” Morgan said. “I think he’s embarrassed and Garcia’s the only one who didn’t go to his apartment, well, after.”

Gideon sighed. “Well, I can’t blame him.”

“I have no idea what to do.”

“Give him time.” Gideon smiled, small and sad. “He’ll bounce back.”

Morgan rubbed his temples. “He says this shouldn’t be something to be traumatized about.”

“Ah.”

“I wish we’d not let him go home last night.”

“I know, Morgan, I know.”

*

Reid was hovering by his desk at the end of the day, visibly unsure of what to do.

“Pretty boy.”

He looked up, his face softening. It caught Morgan entirely off guard to see it.

“Uh,” he started, feeling dumb. “Let’s grab dinner.”

Reid shifted. “But the case.”

“The club’s not even open yet. We can have a bit of a break.”

“Okay.”

Morgan grinned and slung an arm over Reid’s shoulders as they walked to the elevator. He didn’t ask anyone else. No one else offered to join.

“So how far did you get in your Don Quixote recital?” he asked later, both of them halfway through their burgers.

“Oh, they just met Cardenio.”

“That tells me absolutely nothing, but I’m sure that’s great.”

Reid let out a laugh. “Nearly halfway through the first volume, Well, it depends on the translation, of course.”

“Of course.”

“I’m quite looking forward to reciting the part where Don Quixote pines over Dulcinea. I think Garcia will like it.”

“Oh, I’m sure she will.”

“Have you read it?”

“No. Not really my type of literature.”

“The sign of a well read mind is to read it all.”

“Did you just call me stupid?”

“Oh, no.” Reid grinned at him over his burger. It was the first real smile Morgan had seen all day.

“Hm. You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

Reid ducked his head. “Am I?”

Morgan blinked. “Of course. I keep calling you pretty boy, aren’t I?”

“I thought it was an insult of some sort.”

“Why would I be insulting you?” Morgan would feel offended had he not known how Reid felt about being complimented. He never really seemed to believe it unless it had anything to do with his intelligence.

Reid shrugged. “I just didn’t expect it to be a pet name.”

“I call Garcia all sorts of pet names,” he countered. “Flirting’s just our thing.”

“So you’re flirting with me?”

Morgan opened his mouth, but whatever he’d been about to say died at the tip of his tongue when he saw Reid tilting his head, eyes so fucking innocent Morgan knew he was messing with him.

Right?

“Yes,” he finally said. “Is that bad?”

“Not now that I know you’re doing it.”

“Is that so?”

“And that you’re doing it to Garcia too. It makes it less loaded.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

They finished their food in silence. Morgan could practically see life return to Reid now that he was eating a proper meal. He sat up straighter. Looked less pale. Wasn’t just a shell of a person anymore. It made Morgan briefly consider not bringing him with him to the club - he shouldn’t have to see that man again.

“Tell me about Don Quixote,” he said, shoving fries into his mouth. “Please.”

Reid met his eyes. “From the start?”

“From the start. No reciting, though. We don’t have time.”

Reid smiled, bright and beautiful and heartbreaking. “Right.”

*

The club closed earlier on Thursdays, but they had been parked outside for the past two hours. They’d not said much, Morgan and Reid, but Reid had been picking at his nails and shaking his leg for nearly the entire time, which said much more than words anyway. Morgan sighed and reached out to place his hand gently on Reid’s knee, mentally slapping himself when Reid jumped at the sudden touch. “Sorry. You just- your leg-”

“Sorry,” Reid said, stilling it instantly. “Old habit.”

“That’s okay.”

“It probably gets annoying though after a while.”

Morgan let out a laugh. “A little,” he admitted.

Reid laughed too, both of them in stitches for nearly a whole minute for no real reason.

“He tickled me there,” Reid said once they’d calmed down. “On my knees.”

Morgan’s smile fell. “I’m sorry.”

“And behind them.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I know. But I want to. I need someone to know exactly what he did, but- it can’t be because it’s a case. It can’t just be evidence. Does that make sense?”

“It does, yeah.”

Reid slid down the seat, eyes on the street outside. “He started with my feet. Pretty classic way to start it, I think. Many people have foot fetishes alongside other kinks. Anyway. He tickled them for maybe 20 minutes and then moved up to my knees, then torso, armpits. Finished with neck before starting over, although he wasn’t doing it in order after that. Just random. That was almost worse.”

“Reid, I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Reid let out a humorless laugh. “Actually, the worst part was when he found this spot around here-” He pointed to his upper ribs. “-which was probably my worst spot. I didn’t even know about it. He wouldn’t stop tickling it.”

“Reid.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no, don’t you dare apologize. I just- I don’t want you to feel like you have to tell me everything now. It’s a day tomorrow too.”

“That’s true.”

“But if you want to tell everything now feel free to.”

“Actually, maybe I will wait until tomorrow.” He checked his watch. “The club’s about to close anyway.”

As if on cue they watched the security guards usher the last people out, all giggling, all unaware of literal FBI agents sitting just outside.

“He probably has to clean up,” Morgan said. “Hey, hey. Breathe.” Reid had gripped his arm, squeezing it tightly enough for Morgan to turn to fully face him. “Reid. He can’t hurt you again. I won’t let that happen.” He grabbed his hand. “You hear me?”

Reid nodded. “I hear you.”

“We’ll catch this creep, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now breathe.”

Reid breathed.

They watched Charlie exit the club twenty minutes later. Hotch called them, all cars slowly trailing the bartender who was driving a tiny red thing as Hotch gave Morgan instructions. They were to take a shortcut once they’d determined what direction he was going in. If everything went according to plan Morgan and Reid would see where Charlie would go in, whether it was an apartment complex or a house. If they were lucky they wouldn’t lose him. Morgan was determined not to lose him.

“Be careful,” Hotch told them before hanging up. Morgan wasted no time and they were soon flying over the roads as subtly as they could, until he swerved into a side street and picked up pace toward the part of town they had guessed Charlie was going toward. Reid was leaning forward, as if willing the car to go faster. He wasn’t speaking, but Morgan was muttering curses enough for them both.

Charlie pulled up to a house on an otherwise calm street and Reid, faster than Morgan had ever seen him move, made to exit the car as soon as Charlie did until Morgan stopped him. “Wait.”

Reid huffed, looking as if he was about to disobey for a second before he deflated, and together they watched Charlie round the car, pace back and forth as if hyping himself up, before disappearing into the shadows. The others rolled up not long after, and together they waited, needing him to actually break in and overpower the victim in order to make sure he was their original UnSub. They had no space for mistakes.

Once Hotch gave the signal they ran, quickly and silently, agents surrounding the house as Morgan kicked the door down and rushed inside, Reid just at his heels. The UnSub must’ve heard the commotion and was trying to climb out the window when they burst into the bedroom upstairs, but they had agents beneath it and it had slowed him down. He raised his hands as Morgan pointed his gun at him. “Don’t shoot,” he begged, practically shaking.

Morgan tilted his head. “Reid.”

Reid crossed the room, turned the UnSub around and cuffed him. Hotch and Gideon entered just as he removed the mask to reveal a silently sobbing Charlie. Morgan didn’t feel bad for him at all.

Reid shoved him against Morgan. “You’re under arrest,” he said, turning toward the victim, a man, freakishly similar to Reid. Charlie was starting to develop a type. “Are you okay?”

Only one of his hands was tied, duct tape covering his mouth. He nodded. He was still dressed.

Reid went to help him. Morgan exhaled and glared at Charlie who was blinking at Reid, mouth agape. “Don’t look at him. Let’s go.”

He pulled him out of the room, nodding at Gideon.

It was over.

*

Only it wasn’t really over, was it. Reid wouldn’t look at anyone for the rest of the night, nor the next day. He seemed tired. Eyes constantly blinking as if fighting off sleep. Eyes not really meeting anyone’s gaze as he hovered in the background, or hid in Garcia’s room. She’d fed him, she told Morgan, although he’d not eaten much of it.

“Did you sleep last night?”

Reid looked up with a start. Morgan had cornered him on the way from the bathroom. “Oh, uh-”

“Reid,” Morgan sighed. “You should’ve called. Hell, I should’ve offered.”

“Offered what?”

“For you to stay with me.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know.” Morgan pointed at him. “But I’m offering now.”

“It’s a Saturday tomorrow.”

“So?”

Reid shrugged. “I figured you’d want to be free of me on the weekend.”

Morgan snorted. “I’ll kick you out in the morning, obviously.”

Reid laughed. A genuine, beautiful laugh. “Deal.”

They cooked. That was unusual. He never really cooked for himself, especially not on Fridays, but he figured Reid probably needed the distraction, needed the smell of onions and garlic sizzling in a pan until they realized they’d burnt them, needed the potatoes roasting in the oven and the chicken on the grill, the kale being chopped into pieces slightly bigger than the cubed bell peppers and cucumbers and tomatoes. The mundanity of it all. The normalcy. “I only have beer,” Morgan said. “Beer would be great,” Reid replied. In a different life, maybe Morgan would play music and they would dance. In a different life, maybe Morgan would kiss him.

Yes, that was where he was at. No, this was not a new realization.

“Thank you,” Reid said much later, both of them on the couch, full, sleepy, content enough. He was curled up on one end of it, as opposed to the way Morgan was sprawled out on the other. Morgan had only thought of him giggling under his fingers once and hated himself for it.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Morgan said.

“Yes, I do.”

“Okay, well, you’re welcome then.”

Reid ducked his head, but Morgan could still see him worrying his lips through his teeth, over and over. “I also want to thank you for, uh. For acting normal around me? Well, as normal as you can when I act like this.”

Morgan tilted his head. “You don’t have to thank me for that either.”

“I know I’m difficult.”

“You’re the exact opposite of that, Reid.”

Reid looked up. “Really?”

“You’re not lashing out. You’re not demanding anything. You simply slip away. You hide. I don’t want you to feel as if you need to hide.”

“I’m embarrassed.”

“I know.” Morgan turned to fully face him. “But you have no reason to be.”

Reid looked down. “I can’t help it.”

“I get that, I just- You’re a victim. You shouldn’t have to feel like you need to avoid us all.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“But it was, Reid, it was. He tied you up against your will. He touched you against your will. That's a violation. I don’t care if you’re left without visible wounds. If you’re ticklish-” Reid twitched at the word. “-it’s torture to get tickled for too long without getting away. It doesn’t matter if you might otherwise like it. If there’s no consent there’s no enjoyment. Hey. Look at me.”

Reid did.

“I can see how this is an uncomfortable situation for you. Trust me, I get it. But no one thinks anything less of you because of it. Hell, we’re all probably just blaming ourselves for letting it happen. And if you’re embarrassed about being ticklish, let me just tell you that we’re all probably just as bad. Well, maybe not me-”

Reid laughed. “Oh, really?”

Morgan grinned. “Hush, pretty boy.”

Reid fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “You called me ticklish boy once.”

“Well, did I lie?”

“I guess not.” His face pinkened. “I, uh. I guess I can’t really explain why it embarrasses me that I’m so- sensitive.”

“I think that’s pretty normal, though? It’s kind of seen as a weakness, and since our reactions are involuntary it can be a bit vulnerable.”

“I guess.”

“Spencer.”

“Mm?”

“Come here.” Reid did without a word. “Roll up your sleeve and hold out your arm.” He did, again without questioning him. “See this?” Morgan hovered his hand over Reid’s wrist. “This is a spot that I know is ticklish. Am I tickling it?” He wiggled his fingers in the air. “Maybe you feel like I am, or like I will, because you anticipate the sensation and sometimes that’s worse. But I’m not going to do it, because you trust me not to.”

Reid inhaled sharply, watching Morgan’s wiggling fingers for a moment. “What if I wanted you to?” he asked quietly.

“Well,” Morgan started, unsure of why his heart was suddenly racing. “If you wanted me to, I’d probably do it. Because even though we’ve been talking about how it shouldn’t be embarrassing, it’s still really fucking cute that you’re ticklish, Spencer Reid.”

Reid flushed. He’d tucked his hair behind his ears and Morgan watched how they grew red first, his blush then spreading down over his face. Maybe, if Morgan flustered him for long enough, his neck would join in.

He still hadn’t pulled his hand away. Morgan experimentally moved upward, hovering over the inside of Reid’s elbow. “Just say when.”

He kept moving over his arm, watching how Reid visibly started recoiling as he got closer to his neck. He’d probably start giggling if Morgan kept it up, which was so adorable Morgan nearly did, but he moved back to his wrist, unsure of where the line was. He refused to cross it.

“He didn’t tickle my arms,” Reid suddenly said. “I guess it’s an unconventional spot.”

“Like palms.”

“And shoulders.”

“Your shoulders aren’t ticklish.”

“You remember.”

“Of course I do.”

“My palms are.”

“Oh? Isn’t that something I’m supposed to figure out myself?”

“Not if you do that.”

“I won’t touch you until you tell me to.”

“That’s cruel.”

Morgan let out a laugh. “Is it? I thought I was being quite merciful.”

“You know how I feel about it.”

“Do I?”

“You’re a profiler.”

“I try not to profile my friends.”

Reid huffed. “So how did you guess?”

“That you like it? Oh, I don’t need to be a profiler to figure that out.”

“I want you to do it.”

“Tickle you?”

“Uh huh.”

“Now?”

Reid hesitated.

“I’ll stop as soon as you tell me to,” Morgan promised. “We can even have a safe word.”

“Vegas.”

“Vegas? Okay. Can I start here?”

“Uh huh.”

“I need you to say yes, pretty boy.”

“Yes. Please.”

Morgan let his fingertips collide with Reid’s palm, his fingers twitching as Morgan moved over the skin gently, not necessarily tickling it, but being so very gentle he knew it probably tickled anyway. He glanced up and saw Reid staring at his hand, as if mesmerized. “How’s that?”

“On the verge of unbearable.”

“And this?” He moved upward, ghosting over Reid’s wrist, grinning when Reid made a sound which was eerily similar to a yelp.

“Much more unbearable,” he breathed out, covering his face with his other hand.

“You ready for me to go for your elbow?”

“Wait. Vegas. No, wait, don’t stop, but just- wait.”

Morgan stilled his hand, eyes never leaving Reid’s face. “Just say when.”

“I think this will make me start squirming.”

“That’s okay. That’s part of it. You’re not supposed to stay still. Well, unless you’re into that. But squirmin’s half the fun.”

“Right.” Reid breathed out a laugh. “Okay, go.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, go.”

“You sure sure?”

“Derek- ah!”

Morgan laughed as he wiggled his fingers over the inside of Reid’s elbow, following him when Reid moved, a dance of some sort. “I’m gonna get your neck now.” He gave Reid a couple of seconds in case he wanted to protest before curing his fingers beneath his chin, delighted at how Reid finally giggled. “Oh, that’s a good one, huh?”

“Oh my god,” he said through his laughter, his voice high pitched, his body unraveling in order to instinctively push Morgan away. “Not there.”

“No? How ‘bout here?” Morgan wormed his fingers under Reid’s arms, causing a ripple of events that resulted in him nearly getting a foot to his face. He grabbed his ankle. “Careful.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” His smile was so bright Morgan nearly cried.

“Hmm.” He squeezed his foot. “Tell me if you want it.”

“That’s so mean.”

“Nah, it’s the opposite of mean, pretty boy. I’m being considerate.”

Reid’s smile fell. “He wasn’t.”

Morgan dropped his foot. “Reid. He was an UnSub. He had no consideration for others. That doesn’t say anything about your worth just because you happened to cross his path.”

Reid nodded. “Okay.”

“You’re not believing me.”

“I will.” Reid sat up. “I promise I will one day, I just- I need time.”

“I have all the time in the world. And whatever it is that you feel about this, I want to understand.”

“Maybe I’ll tell you one day.”

Morgan grinned. “I’m looking forward to it. Now.” He hovered a hand over his knee. “What was it you said about your knees again?”

Reid giggled, his reaction instant, genuine, so fucking adorable that Morgan knew he could never pretend it wasn’t again. He vowed to make this enjoyable for him again, even if it still embarrassed him. Even if Morgan might not fully understand, although he wanted to try.

“We’re not all creeps,” Reid would say later, both of them lying side by side on the bed. The room was dark, although the light coming from the street lights outside illuminated Reid enough for Derek to see him moving. “I need you to know that.”

“I know, pretty boy.”

“A lot of us value consent.”

“I know.”

“Although many like bondage.”

“Do you?”

Reid hesitated for a moment. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, that’s fine too.”

“I don’t even think it’s because of, well, you know. I just don’t think it’s my cup of tea.”

“Totally get that.”

Reid turned to his side, hand hovering over Morgan’s ribs. “So are you ticklish?”

Morgan grabbed his hand. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Sounds a bit like a lie to me.” He was grinning. Morgan had to laugh. “I’ll get you, Derek Morgan.”

“Only for me to get revenge, right?”

Had it not been dark Morgan was sure he’d see him blush. “Shut up.”

“Mm, make me.”

Reid did. It was their fourth kiss of the night, but who was counting.

(Morgan was, although he lost count by morning.)

*

Two weeks later they went back to the club, hand in hand.

[solardrop]

beanstalk.

aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader

summary: a loser at the local pub thinks spencer is your boyfriend. Aaron drags him. tags: fluff. creepy men being creepy. body shaming (of spencer I'm so sorry). spencer just catching strays in general. word count: ~1.7k a/n: based on an ask. I was gonna just write my thoughts or a short 500 word drabble or something but then ended up writing this until the point I forced myself to just end it lmao. I think it gets a bit convoluted and cringe at the end but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it was fun! not proofread. divider cred @/cafekitsune

The pub was going to the rue the day they made half-off appetizers their weekly special.

The team squeezed in two pushed-together tables and binged on the greasy delights. you and Spencer had gotten into sharp back and forth about the apocalypse on the way there, which earned the both of you a quick banishing to a corner of the table where the rest of the team wouldn’t be subject to your bickering.

You rest your head against the cool concrete pillar you were sandwiched against. A table pressed against a half-wall facing outdoors was a hard sell to a bunch of field agents. However, Penelope’s animated declaration for the team to ‘live a little’ —specifically, to do so before Rossi got any greyer— landed you a wonderful view of the outdoors. You could watch all the homey, drunken people sway to the music flowing from the patio. The crisp night air flushes the overwhelming smell of burnt grease away from your nose. Maybe you could convince Hotch to grab a window seat for some date nights, you have to admit, the vibes were growing on you. While you enjoy poking the brain of your younger genius friend, you miss the solid warmth of Aaron beside you. Thankfully, he opted to sit in front of you instead. 

You took the opportunity to tease him. You kick him playfully under the table, stealing his attention away from the conversation he is having with Derek. He turns to squint at you for a moment, only to grab your food to sandwich it between the wall and his thigh in retaliation. His fingers drum a steady rhythm against your ankle, the ticklish tap tap tap making you squirm. You motion to ensnare his ankle with your other leg when Spencer turns to point his flimsy white plastic fork at you. 

“If emergency services were still in full effect during the zombie apocalypse, there would be a drastic increase in the number of people infected and a significant loss in—”

“A significant loss in medical supplies. Spoken like a true prepper Reid. What's next, gonna tell me about the importance of learning how to pickle your own food for rationing?”

“Actually, during the Great Depression housewives pickles things that lasted their families almost—”

His impending rant is cut short by the return of your server. Anticipating the bill, Rossi reached for his wallet before the woman shakes her head at him. Instead, sliding a drink and a folded up napkin on the table and nodding her head at you. 

“For the lovely young miss by the window.” She flashes a smile at you, “One of our lovely patons seems to fancy you.”

All eyes snap to you, all the color draining from your face as you stare down at the offending item. The drink was almost glowing at you, bright pink glitter swirling in the liquid with pink gummy hearts floating at the top and crystal sugar bedazzling the rim. There was no way this was actually something for the human body to consume. Even Penelope’s brows raised in shock at its extreme display. 

You glance at Hotch, his leg picking up a steady bounce next to yours after the waitresses revelation. His face is hardened, jaw rocking back and forth as he glares at the folded paper next to the drink. You clear your throat and face the woman again.

“Can you tell me who sent this?”

She juts her sharp chin over your head towards one of the outdoor tables. Hotch’s neck cranes around before your own, and you lock eyes with an older man sitting a few tables down. His face was unpleasantly square, the outdated sandy mullet crowning his head doing him no favors either. He raises his beer bottle towards you with a wink. You shiver, scooting closer to Spencer when the admirer hauls himself out of his stool to stride towards you. Aaron has turned almost fully towards outside now, his brow raised.

“Ohh this is gonna be good,” JJ whispers from the other side of Reid. The comment earns her a sharp glare from Hotch, a blush burning in her cheeks as she goes back to nursing her cheeto-crusted mozzarella sticks.

“I just don’t understand,” Spencer starts, “There are seven other people at this table including men at this table why would he be bold enough to-”

A sharp knock sounder off the ledge of the short wall. 

“Well, hello darlin’. I don’t mean to interrupt the dinner with your friends here, Hello friends, m’  names Miles!” He flashed his eyes around the table with a toothy, mustached smile. 

“But i couldn’t help but see your pretty little face in this window ‘ere and I had to buy ya’ a drink!” 

“Ah… Thank you but um-”

“Don’t even sweat it beautiful!” Small specs of saliva fly from his mouth, causing even Spencer to jump back pulling on the hem of your shirt. As if to use you as a human shield from the germs the man was spewing in his general direction. Hooray. Your hero. 

“I even wrote my number on that there lil’ napkin for ya’. My momma raised a gentleman, so I gotta buy you more than a lil liquor before I take you down.” His beady eyes shoot down to your cleavage before snapping back to your face, licking his lip. 

The fingers on your ankles pause at this. Aaron stares down the side of the mans face, lips pressd into a fine line spread across his face. You decide to jump in before your boyfriend takes it upon himself to tear the mystery man a new one.

“Listen, I appreciate the sentiment but, I’m here to have dinner with my friends and my boyfriend so… I could pay you back for the drink? No harm done-”

“Boyfriend!?” He steps back, eyes scanning the table once more before landing on Spencer and snorting. 

“This lil’ stringbean? You can’t possibly be serious” He smiles at Spencer before he continues “Jack and the beanstalk here could barely muscle steel so ya’ll stuck him with plastic,” He waves a crooked finger aimlessly around the table, “And you expect me to believe he’s wrangling a fine figure like yourself down every night?”

That seems to hit a sore spot for Reid, who finally peeps his head from around you. He takes the moment to ramble about the millions of germs and pathogens that could be found on community utensils even after a full wash cycle. Much to the dismay of the creep and team alike, so much so that Derek had to nudge him with his foot. With the conclusion of Spencer’s monologue the man continues

“Anyways, darlin’ for one night let me take you for a spin. Lil' boy like that won't do ya' any good. I promise you only a bigger, older man knows how to really take care of someone crafted as fine as you.” His eyes lower to your chest again and stay there. 

“I assure you she already knows that,” Aaron spits. 

Your eyes snap to his face. He seemd deceptively calm now, his expression almost bored. 

“Pardon?” Miles asks, half-heartedly turning his body towards him. 

“I’ll put it like this for you Miles. Stringbean over here isn’t her boyfriend,” Spencer begins to squeak out in opposition to his new pet name, but Hotch’s voice bellows out above his own, “I know you’re pathetic, that was apparent from the moment you walked up here puffing your chest after buying the cheapest drink on the menu as a gift. But I’m almost surprised you made your impotence so obvious too, considering you made eye contact with everyone you view as non threatening, the women, the man in his late years, the kid.”

Aaron lazily cocks his head towards Morgan, “But not me and my friend here in the corner. But I’m sure you thought you got away with that. Now, I’d suggest you move. The cologne you sprayed to mask the smell of Motel 8 is starting to wear off.”

Your ears warm at his words. Every sharp word honeyed by his calm, almost sweet tone. He spoke as if he was reading the well thought out profile of an elusive crimminal instead of just some ass in a sit down. God you wanted to kiss him. He’d have to let team politics go just this once right? Just a thank you peck. 

Before you can move to move ask him for one, Miles sputters out, “Talkin’ to me like I’m some dumbass— Who the hell d’ya think you are man!?”

Each syllable causes a spray of spit to launch out his mouth, forcing you to scoot even closer to spencer to evade the line of fire. His face shines with sweat and grease, red rising from his shirt collar as he barks at Hotch’s words. 

“I’m her man. Her bigger, older man. But I’m sure you already knew that, since you still refuse to look at me.” Aaron reaches down into his pockets, flipping out his credentials with deft fingers, “And I’m also an agent. As is everyone at the table including the woman you’ve spent the past several minutes sexually harassing.” He scowls, “Now, go sit down and shut the hell up.”

Miles' eyes finally rip away from you to meet his now. The angered flush erupts across his whole body now. He opens his mouth several times before closing it again, iced out by the cold stare Hotch gives him. He turns on his heel and marches back to his table without a fight. He sniffs his collar before jumping back in clear disgust.

A beat passes and the whole table erupts into laughter at the absurd happenings. Aaron’s face softens, still frowning in the general direction of the slimy man. Jolting when Derek claps him on the back and shakes him in praise. 

“Alright Hotch! Racing to defend your girl, I didn’t know you had it like that!”

“Well, I’m not surprised,” You stretch across the table to grasp his hand, kissing his knuckles before he could protest. He envelopes your hand in both of his and gives you a warm smile,  “my man is my hero in and out of the field.” He breathes out a laugh, knocking his knee against yours for your teasing. 

“Next time, you and String Bean get into it, we’re doing a different seating arrangement.”

[im-outofideas]

know when to walk away. know when to run.

fandom: criminal minds

w/c: 1943

content: fluff very cartoony goofy fluff

summary: morgan bets reid he can't go a day without rambling. reid takes him up on it.

a/n: i got a little carried away with everything that wasn't the main course but i promise it is there towards the end. open to criticism ☝️, i am still new at this and looking to improve.

p.s the penelope rant was all me i am penelope.

~~~~~~~~

Derek was starting to feel guilty. To an outside observer, nothing seemed unusual. Reid was sitting across from him on the jet, reading some book in Russian. At least he thought it was Russian. When he asked Reid if it was, he made a face which indicated it was not actually Russian. Any other day he would've corrected Derek on the fact it was Ukrainian (which Derek had to find out after looking the book up on his phone - tedious.) Any other day Reid would passionately explain away a passage in the book that particularly interested him. But today he was completely silent.

It was really starting to get to Derek. And he could tell the kid knew he was getting to him. Spencer would check his watch every so often, glimpse at him with a smug ass look on his face, then go back to his book. It was infuriating.

-----

The unsub they had been dealing with was a bride-killer. He targeted women during their bachelorette parties days before the women were set to be married. The only reason for him to pick such high-profile, high-risk women is if it were a compulsion.

“Maybe he’d gotten cheated on during his own bride’s bachelorette party,” Rossi said.

“Wouldn't he have to stalk these women for weeks to know they were getting married?” JJ questioned.

“Not necessarily,” said Morgan. “Wearing a bride-to-be sash like the victims were would be like waving a red cape at a bull.”

“It’s a common misconception but actually, bulls are colorblind. So it doesn't really matter what color the matador waves - it’s the cape’s movement that elicits an aggressive charge response in the bull.”

“...”

Everyone stared at Reid in a silence that stretched for seemingly forever. He shrunk under their intense gaze.

“Um, Morgan’s metaphor still applies here, though.”

Derek laughed the way he always did right before he teased Reid.

“I bet he can’t go a day without saying some completely unrelated fun fact during the investigation. He just can’t help himself.”

“It wasn’t completely unrelated..” Reid mumbled shyly, before speaking to be heard. “I can. But where's the fun in that?”

“You wanna put money on that?”

"Ooh, careful Morgan. Gambling with a Vegas boy is bound to go wrong." Rossi joked.

“The stakes are too unclear. And there would be too many technicalities. We'd argue over what constitutes as irrelevant to the investigation, what counts as a fun fact..” he trailed off as he realized the stares and silence were back.

“Okay, pretty boy. New stakes. I bet you can’t go without talking for… at least twelve hours. About anything.”

“Can I make any noise?”

“Hmm. Nah.”

“How much money?”

“Reid, Morgan, focus up.” Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose indignantly. “We need Reid to talk until the investigation is over. Then you can wager on your own time.” Hotch brought everyone’s attention back to catching the killer. From over his copy of the case file, Reid mouthed to Morgan. You’re on.

-----

It started right after the unsub was processed. Immediately after. As in, while Morgan was putting the suspect in cuffs, he had turned to Reid and said, “50 bucks?”

“Sure,” he replied. “Starting when?” The local PD came to take the unsub away.

“Now?”

Reid smiled confidently in response.

“Great work, everybody.” Hotch walked up to the team huddled inside the killer’s home. “Let’s get out of here. I’m buying coffee. What does everyone want?”

Reid opened his mouth to say something before pursing his lips. This would be harder than he thought.

-----

On the jet ride home, Derek had been trying to goad Reid into saying something. He facetimed Penelope.

“Hey mama, I got a question for you. Here, let me put you on speaker.”

“Oh! I love questions. You know I know everything. What’s up?”

He looked at Reid smugly as he talked, even though the kid was fixated on his book. “Why exactly does ‘Doctor Who’ spend so much time in places that look exactly like Earth when he's got a whole universe to explore? There ain’t no way Earth is more interesting than the entire universe.”

Oh my. The look on Reid’s face was devastating. The only time Morgan would ever willingly discuss Doctor Who, he couldn’t join the conversation. Derek’s heart would’ve broken if he hadn’t found it hilarious.

“...okay. Sweetheart, first of all, he is not called ‘Doctor Who.’ He’s called ‘The Doctor.’ Okay?” Penelope sighed, agitated. Some relief washed over Reid’s face as if that was what he wanted to say.

“Doctor Who is the name of the show. His identity is a mystery and he just goes by The Doctor. So people and alienfolk all go ‘Huh? What do you mean? Doctor Who?’ and that’s why the show is called that. You wouldn't call Captain Kirk 'Star Trek: The Original Series.'" Reid was positively pouting.

"Second of all, I heard about the little challenge you placed unto our baby genius and I will have no part in his torture. Tata.” Penelope hung up the phone.

Derek frowned and put the phone in his pocket. “Damn… I really was curious. Do you mind answering my question?” he taunted Reid with a toothy grin. Reid scowled and returned to his book. A true miracle he had so much self control over his hand gestures.

-----

Two hours had passed slowly and silently. It wasn’t fun anymore. Morgan had seen Reid perk up at least three times to infodump about the books he’s read during the flight, before he caught himself. Each time he was stupidly dejected afterward. Morgan didn’t love it. He hated it. The kid had been shut up his entire life by his peers and bullies. And now by his friends. His heart was actually starting to ache seeing his friend’s gaze become more and more distant.

“Hey, kid. Let’s just call it off.”

Spencer met his eyes and raised a brow.

“I wanna hear about the story. Genuinely.”

Spencer looked down at his watch, then crossed his arms. Morgan scoffed.

“Seriously, you want the 50 dollars that bad? There’s still an hour left before we land.” He didn't want to see Reid be depressed for the entire remainder of the flight. And the longer it went, it seemed less likely he'd be up for talking even after the time limit. Morgan couldn't handle that.

“C’mon man, it’s unhealthy for a brain to store so much information without an outlet. You’ll explode.”

Spencer smiled and huffed out of his nose. His eyes went wide. He awkwardly looked over to the side at nothing.

“..Was that a noise?” Spencer frowned and shook his head. A figmental lightbulb went off over Derek’s head.

He walked over to sit side-by-side with Spencer, who eyed him cautiously. He sighed. Maybe it was inappropriate to play dirty, but Spencer wasn't exactly giving him an option.

“Listen, we can do this the easy way. Where you open your mouth right now and call me an asshole for ever suggesting this stupid bet in the first place. Or we can do this, uh…” he grinned impishly, wiggling the fingers of one of his hands. “..the hard way.”

Spencer’s jaw clenched at the implication. He braved a face of nonchalance and for a moment, Derek thought maybe he wasn’t even ticklish. Or maybe he didn’t think Derek would actually do it. They were in front of their boss after all, their unit chief of the Federal Bureau of Investigation Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not in grade school.

But then Derek saw the red of his ears slowly make its way down to his cheeks and decided he couldn’t help himself. Plus, the kid wasn’t talking.

"Okay, have it your way."

It was childish, Derek would be the first to admit it. But he’d kill two birds with one stone. End the bet, and get Reid to smile a bit.

He wiggled an index finger lightly at the side of Spencer’s neck, which immediately got trapped. Spencer reached up to pull the hand out, before his wrist was snatched and Derek clawed at his ribs.

To Derek’s surprise, Spencer stayed quiet. His physical reaction, however, made up for it. He jerked and contorted so hard his back ended up on the seat of his chair. One leg curled up to protect the attacked side, while the other sprawled over Derek.

He kept his lips and eyes shut so tight they quivered.

“You’re kidding.” Derek was indignant. This was the most stubborn he’d ever seen him. “You can’t keep this up for an hour.”

After spending some time there, he moved up into his underarm. Spencer broke out into an open mouth grin and another spasm. But still no noise.

Derek let go of his wrist - bicep burning from Spencer's struggle against him - to use both his hands to tickle. Something happened that completely bewildered him.

Spencer was laughing. He was trembling, his stomach was tense, and his throat bobbed as it always did when he laughed. But it was silent. How the hell was he doing that? Why was he just taking it? Is he really going to endure this torture for the rest of the flight?

If he could, oh man. There was no way in hell Derek would stop. This was a much better sight than the sad quiet Spencer from earlier. He just wished he could hear it.

Derek was broken out of his thoughts when he saw tears fall from Spencer’s eyes, which suddenly looked much more desperate. He was turning a concerning shade of red. The drawback of silent laughter finally registered in Derek’s brain.

“Woah Jesus, kid! Breathe!” Derek immediately stilled his hands, reaching instead to grab hold of Reid’s face. It was hot to the touch. He quickly wiped away Reid's tears, which felt a bit intimate, but he didn't want the team to see he had accidentally tickled their greatest asset into crying. He figured Reid wouldn't want them to see either.

Derek helped him sit upright. Spencer breathed hard, a smile gracing his face as he peacefully closed his eyes in relief and weariness. His lips shaped in a circle to steady his breathing.

Absolutely infuriating. He would have passed out before he lost. It was a battle of wills, and even when Derek held all the cards, he folded first.

He wondered why Spencer was going so far for something so dumb. If he was trying to prove something to himself, to his team, to all the bullies who shut him up, Morgan would never live down the guilt. He hoped it was as simple as Reid just being a competitive little shit.

He groaned. “Okay, fine! You win, Spencer. You proved your point. You know how to stay quiet. Hell, not even I could…" he cleared his throat. "..uh, the point is, you won. You can have the 50 bucks. Please just talk to me.”

Spencer was still panting, the smile on his face seemed permanent. “You're.. an asshole,” he breathed. “And a cheater.”

“Yeah, I know.” Derek laughed.

“I still won, though. Whew."

“Yeah, yeah..” Relief. He was a competitive little shit.

"Can't believe you couldn't take just three hours of me not talking! You must really love learning."

He scoffed. "Whatever." Alright. The kid was starting to get cocky.

“Hasn't anyone ever told you cheaters never prosper?"

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.” He pinched at his side and Spencer laughed. Audibly, this time. Garcia would call it a swoon-worthy sound. Maybe those were his words.

He pulled out his government issued wallet before his hand was stopped. “Oh. I don’t actually want your money.”

“A bet’s a bet, Reid. You earned it fair and square.”

“You wouldn’t take it if you had won.” Spencer smiled. “Just buy me a coffee when we land. I didn’t get any earlier.”

Derek shrugged. If he took any lesson away from this, it was that the doctor was stubborn. “Alright, fine by me.”

“And listen when I say the whole point of the Doctor’s archetype is to love Earth - specifically humanity - and for logistical reasons it’s just more convenient for the setting to be on Earth or on a planet that resembles Cardiff, Wales..” Here we go. Spencer rambled on, speaking quickly and more with his hands than anything. Derek rolled his eyes, but he sat back and listened.

[guppygiggles]

Tickletober prompt day 2: “Favorite Spot.”

[hotwritergf]

Socially awkward and easily flustered Spencer Reid loves to tease and make fun of Derek Morgan until he decides fuck it and pins him to his chair and tickles him. Not once does Spencer hate his comeuppance & Derek knows it, they love their little game of asking for it without asking for it.