#yes i know.. very Germaphobe of me- BUT IT'S FOR A GOOD CAUSE!!!!!! IT'S FOR THEIR OWN SAKE!!!!!

[temeyes]

i take my ghostsoap plushie care seriously

[lostiolite]

order up! Pt. 1

1.5K words

AN: yes the header is the shinonome valentines card, i felt it encapsulated the aesthetic of the restaurant really well…

forgive me for how ooc chisaki is </3 // NOT BETA READ

Im probably gonna rewrite / edit :/ fix this

You worked at a rather unique restaurant. The fact that you landed such a well paying and safe job was surprising, especially as you were quirkless. The thing is, people aren’t that fond of hiring quirkless people, especially if it was a well respected job. They would take someone with a quirk over your quirkless ass anyday, even if their quirk was usless for the job position.

It seems that the owner, Hyugo, either took pity or preferred quirkless people. Perhaps it was a mixture of the both. He was very sympathetic to your desperation for the job, but he also said that, “quirkless people worked harder”. He was right.

The thing is quirkless people have more to lose when it comes to their jobs. NO matter how useless someone's quirk was, they could probably find a job that would utilize their natural-born talents.

The restaurant was interesting… to say the least. It was very high quality, with extremely high hygienic rules that even most restaurants didn't have in Japan. As kind as Hyugo was, he was the world's number one germaphobe. He prided himself in the quality of the customer service, if it wasn't good enough to serve to him, then it wasn’t good to serve to anyone in his restaurant. Most of the waiters wear a mask, even though it's not required, most of the workers just go above and beyond to ensure the hygienic quality of the food, you included. You all like your jobs, as laborious as it is, you get to meet interesting people.

That brings you to now, you are serving an old man, two young men your age, one brunette wearing a black medical mask and the other with silver arrow-shaped hair, and… a small, plushie-looking dude… you wonder if thats a mutation quirk, or an emitter quirk. The old man is rather friendly, despite being yakuza, at least youthink, or hes part of some organized crime organization. The restaurant has a policy regarding villans and criminals, if they dont cause trouble, then you didn't see anything. The man seems to have a permanent smile.

“Not a fan of germs are you?” He says as he takes a seat, he takes a quick glance at the brunnette, whos staring at you with malice.

“Oh- no, its for hygienic reasons, the owner’s a huge germaphobe. He takes the restaurants hygiene very seriously” you respond as you get your notepad out. “Do you need time to look over the menu? Or would you like to order your drinks and appetizers now?"

“Give us a minute please”

“Alright, ill be back in a second” you depart fron the table, going to check on other tables.

Your very speedy and efficient, you've been working for Hyugo for about 2 years? You've seen Hyugo at work for about a year before that, your 17 now. You were young and needed a job after some… unfortunate events, ones you wouldn't like to remember. Since you've basically lived at the restaurant for the past 3 years you know it like the back of your hand.

Your serving the table with the pressumed yakuza men with extreme proffiency, the brunnette and the white haired men are conversing, however you cant help but feel the bruning gaze of the brunnete, as if he is chastising your every move.

“You’re very good at your job? How old are you? You seem rather young." the elder asks you curiously, at his voice, the rest of the table goes quiet to listen in on your conversation. All four men starring at you, making you feel quite uncomfortable.

“Thank you, I can't afford to lose my job” you laugh, though albeit awkwardly. “Its hard to find such a well paying job being quirkless” you pause for a moment. “And yes, im 17, ive known the owner for awhile so i learned the in-and-outs of the restaurant very early on”. though your mouth is covered, your eyes convey a smile.

“Wow! Your very responsible and amicable” he chuckles turning to the brunnette beside him. “Kai, you could learn a thing or two from them”. The brunnette looks back at you, his stare less malicious than before, but still malicious. You laugh along, “thank you, is there anything else i can get for you? Or will that be all?"

“Thats all”. You bow a little, before returning to your other duties, still mildly unnerved by the previous table. There was this sense of extreme seriousness and poison despite the old mans altruism. You have a feeling in your gut telling you there is something wrong with the Gold-eyed boy.

You feel the violent stare of the brunnette as you work. Its different than when he first laid eyes on you. At first he seemed to look at you like you were a bug, someone beneath him, unworthy of his presence. but now, it seems like hes looking at you as if you were a zoo animal. Both are bad, but the latter is better. you can tell he’s analyzing you, by the looks of it he seems anti-social. Thinking of the old mans question, he was probably also a germaphobe. Just like Hyugo.

They leave without issue, with the old man extremely pleased, biding you a nice farewell as they leave, you respond with a “come again!" before looking away. The rest of the group kind of erks you.

What an odd bunch you think. However, you don't linger on that thought for long. You run into far more intresting and dangerous people on the daily, for example- you take a second look. Holy shit- one of your co-workers is serving for Sir Nighteye. Hes in the corner out of sight from most of the guests, which makes sense considering his position. But it wows you nonetheless.

The rest of the day goes without anything of note. Youve finished your shift and are sitting at a table with your friend Chiyo, eating dinner. Shes a kind girl, shoulder length grey-red hair, and bright ruby eyes. Shes Hyugo’s neice and has a passion for culinary. She was there for you at your worst, even when you weren't as stable.

A few days later you wait for the same group of people, the old man flashing you a vivacious smile.

“Oh its you! How are you?" he asks as he sits down.

“Im good!” you say flashing hin a friendly smile, you scrunch your eyes as much as you can to get the message across, second nature from wearing a mask so often."im assuming you enjoy your experience last time?”

“Yes, the food was nice." he says looking to the rest of the group, silent, but they all give him a nod of agreeance. You feel awkward, you wonder why its only the old man making conversation with you. Your eyes accidentally lock with the arrow-haired boy.

“We would all like water please.” he says

“Alright! Ill get that started for you. Anything else?" you resoond, slightly startled, you sort of expected for knly the old man to speak.

“No, thank you”

“Alright!" you scrunch your eyes, and get their water.

Once again you feel golden eyes burning your back as you work. Seriously what was his problem? You wonder if they are going to become regulars, or maybe they're gonna get tired of this place after a few visits.

Two weeks have passed, and you see the same brunette and his white hair friend walk in, no old man or walking plushie in sight, which is new. for the past two weeks, they have come in 4 times. in that two weeks you have come to find out that kai, surname Chisaki is the elder mans successor, you cant tell if thats his son or his grandson. Irinaka has an emitter quirk, meaning he can freely change out of that plushie form when he wants. Though you don't know the full extent of his quirk. Kurono, the white arrow haired man, is Chisakis childhood friend and close confidant. from how often they have come in it seems like they like this place. You notice the host place them in a table outside of your region, meaning that you wont serve them. oh well, not your problem. You’re about to go back to work before you realize you're making eye contact with chisaki as he is led to his table. Your avert your gaze, they make you kinda uneasy, especially since the old man isn't around, you can’t imagine how dry talking to them would be. Thank god your not serving them today.

Out of curiosity you look back at them and your co-worker who is going to server them today. What takes you by surprise is the way Chisakis face- though masked, contorts in disgust and offense when he sees your co-worker approach. His eyes immediately dart to you like a lost puppy, then back at the co-worker with disgust, then back to you. You shrug while smiling extremely awkwardly and you turn back to continue working.

You weren't expecting that.

But holy shit it was kind of cute.

———

AN: Should reader be a theater kid, an artist or something else? I listened to a few hamilton songs while writing this and even though idk shit about theatre i kinda want reader to be a theater kid, then again i know the most about art because, im an artist. I ALSO DREW CHISAKI so yeah uh yeah :D, I have another fic to continue writing that i posted on ao3

[aroace-poly-show]

I have a more fucked up headcanon for germaphobe Tsukasa that's kinda connected to my fucked up hcs (projection of my own chronic conditions) on Saki, and it's that 1) Saki's chronic illness was kind of Always there (genetic) but the onset was caused by an infection/inflammation that looked like common cold at first and they'd have no idea it'll ruin her health like this (which it kinda didn't do on its own but you get the idea) 2) The Tenmas are now aware it's genetic and so even outside of it being very dangerous for Saki they'll afraid Tsukasa will go down the same route if he gets sick. Like they don't know for sure if he has it, nobody can tell, but the chance is there and they Really don't want to risk it, so he's always instructed to be extremely careful, both for Saki's and his own sake, but he kind of... Doesn't get the last part a bit. He's so healthy anyway, what could possibly go wrong with him? He's still very careful for Saki obviously but he himself doesn't really get that they all also care about him and not Saki alone because his little 10 years old brain doesn't compute how even really tiny and harmless illnesses can absolutely ruin someone as great as Tsukasa Tenma the Older Brother, yk?

Yeah sorry this is just a rant about me projecting onto them because it's fun to hope you don't mind 👍

ouggfhfgd. i do not mind at all. this is good this is very good yes.

[valerieismss]

Thinking about Domini…Domini, whose main character struggle is her obsession with moral pureness. She sees it as unattainable because of her scrupulosity ocd—she believes that by definition, any acts of goodness are just attempts at self preservation. She is blind to any sort of altruistic characteristic she may possess because she believes in her condition qualifies it, and thus ruins its integrity.

As such, Domini is on a lot of medication. Like, A Lot. She’s on a dose of zoloft that surpasses the legal maximum. She’s on antipsychotics, because her ocd borders on delusion—it’s severe, and diagnostically she’s documented as having poor insight. She is an unwavering believer of her mediocrity, and has lost faith in her ability to improve without medical aid. To be fair, from her perspective, it would make sense. Her health continues to decline even as she does what she believes is the purest moral act that she can do, which is anonymous and traumatizing volunteering at citrus.

Why doesn’t it work? She wonders often if there is an inherent filth to her character. Her life is a desperate attempt at a shower during a drought. Her motifs have a lot to do with Catholic imagery, since she’s basically martyring herself (specifically, her sanity) on a daily by volunteering. But literally. Unbeknownst to her, she is literally destroying her neural health by taking the medication that all volunteers are required to take in order to enter mindscapes. She is decaying.

I’m not quite sure what the effects of this medication are just yet. I’m thinking they speed up the process of myelin sheath decay—as in, they cause VERY early onset dementia. Or maybe somehow episodes of it.

Essentially, Domini’s brain is currently as medicated as it gets. She’s unwashable and unrinseable. Her motifs, up until now, have consistently just been…Catholicism. Angel wings but no halo. Crosses everywhere. Bleeding heart dove. Harsh judgement, staunch criticism, and an unforgiving mind.

But I think it would be really fun to give her a decay motif. Specifically, I think that her corruption should not only be mental but physical.

Domini is based on me but worse, and my worst fears involve corruption. Moreover, they involve a strong fear of filth. This is probably because I grew up in a hoarder house. It’s not a severe hoard by any means, but it is…diagnosable. I’m not germaphobic, my ocd is mostly pure obsessional—those are the grounds of my diagnosis. But Domini isn’t a one to one replica of me…she could be a little different.

Emery also has ocd, theirs is moral scrupulosity while Domini’s is kind of a mix between moral and religious scrupulosity. Emery, however, also has mental contamination ocd. This is when obessions of impurity are followed by compulsions of physical cleanliness. I incorporated this into their design—Emery’s office is usually extremely—and almost hauntingly—clean. Their hands are scarred from excessive hand washing, which is their main compulsion. They probably also have chemical burns on them from excessive use of chemical cleaning materials.

Domini isn’t really like that. Her exhaustion comes through in her appearance. She tries to look put together, yes, but she’s got heavy eyebags and VERY grown out roots. (Emery also has heavy eyebags, but they’re 43). While her clothes aren’t dirty, it should be noted that she has very oily skin and hair. She hides it well enough, but upon close inspection, she has poor hygiene habits.

There’s a point where we get to see Domini’s inner landscape and her corrupted form. Filth may be a good motif here. It would be interesting, and not difficult to pair with her already existing motifs—rusty rosaries, expired wine, moldy bread…and also. I find this motif extremely underused…but what about her menstrual cycle?

We know she has poor hygiene, a product of self neglect due to depression due to a feeling of incurable inadequacy. She is a perfectionist, and with perfectionists, sometimes you simply don’t give something a solid attempt because you believe failure is certain. Blood is a strong motif within Christianity. Periods are a source of shame for many afab people. Again, Domini is somewhat put together—she brushes her teeth, she wears deodorant, she tries to not appear disagreeable which includes making sure that she doesn’t bleed through her clothing. However, poor period hygiene is relatively easy to hide aside from making sure you don’t bleed through your clothing.

I don’t think periods are an inherently dirty thing. I don’t want my writing to portray them as such. But Domini? Domini DOES think this—she’s been raised by image obsessed people who shamed her on the daily, who were never satisfied no matter how clean she tried to be (eventually, she mostly gave up on these pursuits, hence her poor hygiene). I want players to understand that Domini subconsciously believes periods are filthy, but I don’t. That said, something about dirty pads and tampons left for days on end is absolutely horrific, I think those things are for most people. It’s not something I see utilized in horror often, but it’s the reality of a lot of depressed afab people. I just think this motif is so poignant. It’s the most jarring visual representation of Domini’s shame that I can think of.

Domini believes she is filthy. Her mental landscape is littered with expired Catholic food and used period products to represent her deep sense of shame. I think grease would also add to that.

Grease scares me a lot. I hate the feeling of it, and to me, it’s one of the most dirty things imaginable—a product of gluttony. For Domini, a character who deprives herself of any indulgences, grease is symbolically diametrically opposed to who she desperately tries to be. But how would I incorporate that…? I’m not sure. Where exactly would I put it…greasy pads don’t exist. That would really suck if they did. I guess I could make them greasy. Ugh. That’s so gross. Oh! I guess I could do that. But it doesn’t feel like enough, and I’m not sure the symbolism would come through.

I should mention that another one of Domini’s motifs is candles. I can’t think of anything interesting to do with them. With everything else I’ve thought up, I’d probably also include some fleas. Duh. I think Domini and Emery are very similar people, but I like being able to delineate this difference between them. Emery’s feelings of inadequacy manifest into a fixation on cleanliness, Domini’s manifest into self neglect. I quite enjoy this foil.

I’ll be thinking on this more. Thank you for reading if you did. I lastly want to mention that I am much normaler than these two and thankfully due to my years of therapy and medication I do take care of myself.

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Hello everyone!!! Welcome to this episode of Star and Sunny’s bullshit. If you don’t want to sit through of bunch of rambling memes and inside jokes, feel free to move on <3

Star: can i just say that s1 Reid is literally the most baby boy ever (i will do ungodly things to him, i wanna ruin him forever, like is this what a corruption kink is?)

Sunny: you know what this is EXACTLY what a corruption kink is. And I didn’t even think to add that to the tags for this (or Lessons for a Genius, but it totally applies). S1/S2 Spencer is SO FUCKING CORRUPTABLE. So bitable. Like I just wanna tell him filthy things and watch him explode due to the shock 

Star: skipping all the cw cause sunny's got me and I love surprises :3 whatever happens next is on me

Sunny: I do got you!!! Reading fics blind can be so much more fun lmao 

Star: "Sifting through someone’s apartment looking" unironically this would be the shit, i love going through ppls stuff (paperwork can die tho)

Sunny: okay but I would also love this. A chance to just be so NOSY. I would live for this 

Star: "Gideon said" i literally went "🥺 dad ???? 🥺" YES YOU DUMB BITCH WE'RE ON SEASON ONE !!!!

Sunny: If I was actually part of this team and Gideon said that I wasn’t living up to my potential or something, I would cry. Like him telling me I wasn’t doing well enough would be INFINITELY worse than one of my parents being disappointed in me. He is father 

Star: "The only upside was that you got to do it with Spencer" oh i'm gonna do a lot of things with Spencer

Sunny: and Spencer is gonna love it <333 

Star: "naturally fell under your authority" yes ??? cause he knows his place is under a mean woman

Sunny: EXACTLY. He doesn’t have the energy or the time to question us. And he likes being bossed around. He just doesn’t know it yet (but he will though) 

Star: "Reid, come on, take your feet off the dashboard!" you !!!! the germaphobe !!!! literally shut up forever i hAVE THE HIGH (moral) GROUND !!! "And put your seatbelt on!” OH HE'D STRESS ME OUT SO BAD !!!!! I HATE WHEN PPL DO THIS !!!!!

Sunny: HE WOULD STRESS ME OUT TOO. Like everything from this part of the fic was from my heart. I am this mf bossy with people in the car if they are being annoying or not wearing a seatbelt 

Star: "Aw, Reid, listen to your Mommy.” you wish you could call me mommy (or alternatively: well then i guess im letting You die in a car crash)

Sunny: I feel like Derek would be the type to call someone ‘Mama’ in bed. (or Mami?) Like he would call you a ‘hot mama’ - as a compliment, and it would slip out again later during sex. This was just floating around between my ears and I felt the need to share lmao 

Star: "“I bet if you’re a good boy, she might even breastfeed you when you get there" AAAAAAAA I FORGOT HE SAID THAT !!!!!

Sunny: Derek is thinking about our tiddies an UNHEALTHY AMOUNT. (or a very healthy amount, depending on how you look at it.) 

Star: "his voice low and mousy, looking straight ahead as he fidgeted with his hands in his lap" im shoving my tongue down his throat

Sunny: as you should. 

Star: "For the first time ever" preposterous (having to google the correct spelling for that was for sure humbling)

Sunny: lmao it’s okay I wouldn’t know how to spell this off the top of my head either and I’m a native English speaker 

Star: "Don’t worry about it, baby" : O did i just rizz MYSELF UP ????

Sunny: it’s easier to do so around Spencer who won’t question your rizz!!! 

Star: "Sorry, Mommy" you have never done me wrong ever

Sunny: I literally had SO MUCH FUN writing this part, because I was like ‘this is a meme, but it fits SO WELL into the fic, so I have to do it’. 

Star: see reader is stronger than me cause I would've pulled over, federal secURITY JOB BE DAMNED !!!!

Sunny: You have no clue how many times I have been writing a fic and thought to myself ‘they should just fuck NOW’ - but then I have to be like ‘no, we have to stick to the plot, we have to build more tension’. So I definitely agree with you in a lot of ways lmao. 

Star: "wanted to shoot his cum so deep inside you that it would ensure he could give you one" : O im calling the police

Sunny: I’m sure I have one of those monopoly Get Out Of Jail Free cards sitting around somewhere <333 

Star: "You don’t mind sharing with me, right" OMG I SEE WHAT YOU DID HERE !!!! *pointing maniacally at the screen*

Sunny: I had just been watching the Lila episode and it was too much fun to resist lmao 

Star: "he saw that there was only one bed" i KNEW not looking at the cw would yield good results !!!!

Sunny: again, it’s a meme, but it was too much fun not to include. Also usually the ‘there was only one bed’ trope is about two people being FORCED to share a bed because of extenuating circumstances (which is very fun to write) - but this time, it is purely on purpose. The reader character booked the room with only one bed so Spencer would be forced to confront the sexual tension between them. 

Star: "melting like butter over your tongue in a way that made Spencer’s knees wobble" baby and angel are SO DEEPLY ingrained into my daily vocabulary I think Spencer would spontaneously combust

Sunny: oh he absolutely WOULD 

Star: "beautiful natural teardrop shape of your breasts" *excitedly chanting* SAGGY TITS SAGGY TITS SAGGY TITS !!!!!

Sunny: this actually made me snort when I read it omg. #teamsaggytits 

Star: "weren’t actually offering to breastfeed him" we'll get there eventually >:3

Sunny: now I cannot stop thinking about Spencer with an actually pregnant or new mother reader who is over producing milk and Spencer offers to suck the milk out of her tits because they are swollen and painful so she doesn’t have to breast pump, acting like it’s just to help her, but it’s really self motivated because he loves tiddies (will this be a fic I will actually write? idk) 

Star: "your body could actually support the production of milk currently" well maybe if you put a baby in me like you wanted to i COULD'VE

Sunny: WELL NOW I’M THINKING ABOUT EARLY SEASONS WHINY SPENCER BEGGING TO BREED YOU. MORE PLOT BUNNIES 

Star: "or maybe Spencer liked that humiliation, he wasn’t even sure" we'll sprinkle in the fact that Reid is bi

Sunny: I was trying to sprinkle in the fact that Reid has a humiliation kink - but it does probably help that the humiliation comes from Morgan 

Star: "wouldn’t be able to stand the idea of another woman touching him after this" unless we're also there and the other woman is Elle (cause she'd be out mommy too, than everything's balanced out)

Sunny: (Staring at Elle, singing You Are The Only Exception) 

Star: "You knew it wouldn’t be long before he came in his pants" im gonna claw out of my little prison, plEASE GOD ALLOW ME TO HAVE THIS

Sunny: he is so wonderfully pathetic <3 

Star: "Anyone else would have likely let him rest" *in tears* you know me so fucking well, i love it here

Sunny: all that matters in life is writing fics for your one weird little friend <3 I am so glad this one hit !!!

Star: "Glossy and wet with his own release, his cock pinky red from the exertion and friction, still half hard" I think I have rabies, this is what rabies feel like, why else would I be foaming at the mouth?

Sunny: I feel like I need to put a warning on my fics now that they may induce rabies ??? 

Star: "You said that you only wanted to look" .... i can look with my mouth

Sunny: I need ‘I can look with my mouth’ on a shirt with no context 

Star: "he was the one making those desperate sounds" gone wild audio save, save me gwa !!

Sunny: WAIT ONE HAPPENED TO THAT ONE AUDIO POST I HAD SAVED THAT SOUNDED EXACTLY LIKE SPENCER ??? remind me to find it later 

Star: "frail woman getting fucked to death by her husband next door" im husband ? 🥺

Sunny: again, this is one of those random lines that I put in there just for you. Because Spencer is babygirl and we love reversing gender roles 

Star: "That’s enough, baby" I WAS ABOUT TO SAY !!! 4 sugar packets ????? Spencer please, your poor heart

Sunny: he needs to be mommied. For his health 

Anyway, everyone!!! Thank you for coming to this episode of Star and Sunny talk shit <333

Meddle About

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader

‘Cause it's not just a figure of speech - you got me down on my knees.

It's gettin' harder to b r e a t h e .

Summary:

You hate it when Morgan teases Reid. So when Morgan says that you are Reid's 'Mommy' - you verbally fire back without even thinking about it.

Reid vastly overthinks it.

So much so that he ends up calling you Mommy by mistake. And you definitely don't hate the sound of that word coming off his lips.

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut. Set during Season One.

Word Count: 6,300

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general smut fic - porn with some plot; dom/sub dynamics (but this isn't a pre-discussed dom/sub relationship, the characters just fall into these roles naturally), Spencer is submissive and the reader is dominant; the main theme is Mommy kink - Spencer discovers that he has a Mommy kink after a joke that Morgan makes, referring to the reader character as Spencer's Mommy; Spencer calls the reader 'Mommy' and the reader also refers to herself with that title; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina (and breasts); it could be interpreted that the reader has larger breasts/is plus sized (but I think anyone of any size could enjoy this fic); the reader is part of the BAU; this is meant to take place during season one (baby Spence my beloved) but there are no other major canon events mentioned and the case being discussed is one that I have made up; some very background typical elements of Criminal Minds - murder, killing, systemic vicimization of women/violence from men towards women (passing mention of bodies being consumed by wild animals); the reader and Spencer fuck while on a case (but they aren't endangering anyone's lives from lack of their attention, so it's fine); mentions of potential injuries from a car accident (theoretical - doesn't actually happen during the fic); very slight threads of Morgan x Reader (mentions of Morgan being attracted to the reader - it could be one-sided); very passing mention of Reid having breeding kink (doesn't take place during the fic, just one of his thoughts); for the actual smut section: this could be interpreted as virgin!Spencer but that's not explicitly stated here (at most, this is just inexperienced!Spencer) (the reader is definitely way more sexually experienced than him); praise kink (we all known Spencer is so eager to be praised); mentions of breastfeeding - Morgan makes a joke about the reader breastfeeding Reid, which later turns into faux breastfeeding kink (the reader doesn't actually lactate, but she lets Spencer suck on her tits and calls it breastfeeding); the reader calls Spencer: 'baby', 'good boy',; descriptions of subspace - but it's not specifically called 'subspace' in the text; thigh humping - Spencer humps the reader's thigh; cumming in pants (Spencer); multiple orgasms/overstimulation (Spencer receiving); handjob - the reader jacks Spencer off while he is sensitive after his first orgasm; using lube as cum; dumbification kink - the reader calls Spencer 'dumb baby' and generally enjoys seeing his intellect drop the more turned on he becomes (Spencer also likes being called this); technically the reader doesn't get to cum, but she gets turned on from treating Spencer like the good boy that he is (and this is more about him). I think that's everything.

A/N: This was directly inspired by the scene from Reid's birthday party, where Morgan says 'Mommy to the rescue!' (talking about JJ) and then Spencer says '...Mommy?' and it seems like he is discovering his Mommy kink in real time. Especially because he is then trapped between Elle and JJ and he makes direct eye contact with their boobs, and he just has such a look of scared kink realization in his eyes. I considered copying that moment exactly and just replacing JJ with the reader character, but this seemed like more fun lmao. I had so much fun writing this and I think this is one of my best fics in a while. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

...

Generally, you hated being stuck with grunt work. 

You knew that it was all part of the job - an important part of it. Paperwork, side interviews, background checks. Sifting through someone’s apartment looking for aspects of what kind of person they were based on their everyday life. 

But you thrived more on being right in the middle of things. You preferred interacting with suspects, chasing people down, harsh confrontation. 

Gideon said that you were overly controlling, impatient, brutally honest - that you had an ‘abrasive personality’ that put most men off. But that was why he often brought you into interrogations with male suspects. Many of the people you caught - men with superiority complexes who targeted the weak to make themselves feel powerful - they hated that you weren’t intimidated by them. That aspect of abrasion between you and the suspects often brought out a lot of information - things they spewed out trying to intimidate you. 

But you weren’t needed on that front today. 

No - instead, you were doing grunt work. The kind of work that made you impatient and generally aggravated. 

The only upside was that you got to do it with Spencer. 

He was one of the only men that voluntarily worked so closely with you so often, because he wasn’t intimidated by you. He took orders from you very well and naturally fell under your authority, bringing a natural chemistry to your partnership when you worked with him. Plus - his seemingly endless stream of ‘fun facts’ was like listening to the radio, which did help to soothe your boredom during these kinds of mindless tasks. 

You were on a case in Texas. Five women raped and tortured before having their bodies hung from a tree and consumed by cotoyes that the UnSub knew lived in the area. Since police had closed in on him, he had gone on the run. He had killed three more women since fleeing, while leaving no clues as to what his ultimate endgame would be or where he would be going next. 

Hotch sent you and Reid to find that out while the rest of the team worked victimology and profiled the scenes of the most recent murders, following the trail he was leaving. 

After spending hours sifting through the suspect’s house, looking for any small clue about where he might be going - you came up empty. When you touched base with Hotch, he told you that you and Reid would be going to visit the suspect’s ex-wife - who lived four hours away. You needed to interview her to see if she could give you any further insight to the man, and perhaps - beat him to the house if she was the ultimate target. 

(A lot of the victims looked like her, and it couldn’t really be a coincidence.) 

You knew that lives were at risk, and it was juvenile of you, but all you heard was: long, boring drive. Boring day. You hoped that Reid would be good company through it. 

Now, you were waiting outside of the police station in the bureau-issued SUV, waiting for Morgan to come and give you the file with the ex-wife’s address and contact information. 

“Did you know that over forty-six percent of Texans own a gun? Texas is second only to Montana in registered gun ownership, where over sixty-six percent of citizens proudly tote their right to bear arms.” Reid told you, continuing to look over the case files that were sitting in his lap. 

When you looked over toward him to reply to this odd factoid, your mind got caught up on something else. 

“Reid, come on, take your feet off the dashboard!” You told him, reaching over to gently smack his knee, trying to encourage his legs down from the awkward position. 

It bothered you for several reasons - the idea that he would leave shoe prints on the dashboard, which was minor and cosmetic, but still annoying. And the fact that if the car did happen to get hit head-on, the air-bag would explode out and push his knees into his chest, causing his shattered leg bones to pierce his organs and possibly kill him. (At the very least, he would never walk again.) 

Speaking of which: 

“And put your seatbelt on!” You barked, now noticing that he wasn’t wearing it past all of the files he had piled into his lap. “You of all people should know how many deaths are caused by not wearing a seatbelt.” 

Spencer opened his mouth to spout out this exact statistic, but before he could get the words out, another voice entered the conversation. 

“Aw, Reid, listen to your Mommy.” 

You were almost startled by Morgan’s voice coming from the open driver’s side window so suddenly. His appearance there as if out of nowhere was so jarring that you couldn’t get caught up on the way he had called you Reid’s Mommy. Your head whipped toward Morgan so quickly that you didn’t notice the flash across Spencer’s features - worry, dawning. You didn’t take note of the way he rushed to comply with putting on his seatbelt. As if he was rushing to please you, even unconsciously. 

“I bet if you’re a good boy, she might even breastfeed you when you get there.” 

Morgan then pursed his lips and made loudly suckling noises, clearly imitating breastfeeding in what he thought was a comedic way. 

Again - glaring at the muscled man through the open window, you didn’t see Spencer’s reaction. You didn’t see the way his large, glassy eyes flickered to your breasts (only emphasized by your own seatbelt crossed over the center of your chest) before he forced himself to focus on the files in front of him so that he wouldn’t feel so caught.

“Shut up.” You told Morgan, your voice so commanding and firm that his simple order was enough to get him to stop his antics. 

“And give me the address already.” You held out your hand expectantly, and Morgan handed you the file, which you placed onto the center console. 

Then, you turned back to him for one last point, determined to have the final word in the conversation. 

“Besides, we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts, anyway. Just because you stare while wearing sunglasses, doesn’t mean I don’t notice. My eyes are up here, pal.” You told him sharply. 

He let out a scoff at this, and rolled his eyes behind his dark frames - but he made no clever comeback. 

You had successfully bested him. And with that knowledge, you rolled up the window and left him standing dumbly in the parking lot as you sped off. 

… 

You pulled over later to put the address into the GPS system, and you let out a long-winded groan when you found that it was more than four hours away. Four hours and twenty five minutes. 

So you pulled over again to get gas and stocked up on snacks, and you were surprised that Reid wasn’t giving you some lesson about the colloquial use of ‘soda’ and ‘pop’ (thinking that you hadn’t listened the other ten times when he had gone on the same rambling point about linguistics and how language evolves). 

He was being far too quiet for your liking. 

But he was keeping his eyes glued to the files, and you guessed that he was churning over something in that big brain of his, like he usually was. 

You were entirely surprised when the next time he spoke - it wasn’t about the case at all. 

“How - how do you know that Morgan likes your breasts?” He asked, his voice low and mousy, looking straight ahead as he fidgeted with his hands in his lap. 

“What?” You gaped, the word flying out of your mouth as your brain was utterly slow to process what he had just said. 

Hearing Spencer use the word ‘breasts’ was jarring, but somehow utterly adorable. You found it stirring a slight heat within you. Especially because he was still so shy. The whole thing made you want to pin him down and force the shyness out of him. 

Spencer felt the need to further explain himself. 

“When - when you were talking to him, you said: ‘we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts.’” He said, repeating back what you had said, word for word, using that perfect memory of his. 

You wondered if that’s what he had been doing, sitting there in his seat so silently for the past hour of the car ride - going over the conversation again and again in his head, trying to make sense of it. And because he couldn’t make any sense of it by himself, now he was consulting you. 

Again, you found it so utterly adorable. 

“Morgan didn’t deny it. So - was it a hypothesis based on something, or did you just call him out hoping that you weren’t wrong?” Reid continued, sparing only a singular glance in your direction, a look that you caught out of the corner of your eye with your gaze still mostly focused ahead on the road. 

You found it intensely cute that he was using the word ‘hypothesis’ in this situation. You wondered if he ever turned it off - the textbook big words and the intellect that he always carried himself with. You wondered if you could make him turn it off. You wondered if there was any situation where Spencer Reid could be as stupid as any other man - chasing a bone, desperate to get his nut off. 

For the first time ever - you imagined Spencer Reid underneath you, blabbering nonsense, begging for release with your hand around his cock as you pumped him, red and aching, so slick in your palm. Desperate, empty-headed, beautifully stupid. 

(See, this was what happened when you were forced to do grunt work. You got bored. And when you got bored - you had to entertain yourself somehow.) 

“It was a pretty well-informed hypothesis.” You replied. Now that Spencer had brought the topic up, you certainly weren’t going to shy away from the discussion. “Morgan often brings up my sex life, and wants to engage in detailed discussions about my sexual encounters with me. So I assume that he spends a fair amount of time thinking about me in a sexual way.” 

Reid let out a choked-off noise at this. 

You continued. 

“Plus, he’s always staring down my top. He’s not exactly subtle.” 

“You - you actually notice that kind of thing?” He chirped, his voice becoming a few octaves higher as worry flooded him. 

You bit your lip, suppressing a grin. 

Of course, you had noticed the times that Spencer stared at your breasts as well. He was even less subtle about it than Morgan was. You didn’t mind it when he did it, because you knew that Spencer wasn’t exactly casanova. He didn’t have a different girl every other week like Morgan did, so taking a glance down your shirt when he passed you a morning coffee was probably about as much action as he got. 

Secretly, letting him get away with it was your gift to him. 

“Don’t worry about it, baby.” You told him, the pet name slipping out mindlessly as you reached over and gently patted his knee as a form of reassurance. 

This movement unintentionally drew his eyes toward your chest, especially in his desperation to look anywhere but your face, not wanting to make eye contact with you. But he found his eyes glued to the swell of your breasts once again - hating how perfect they looked, even through the simple cotton shirt and plain bra that you wore. 

“Sorry, Mommy.” The word slipped out before he could even consciously process it. “Sorry!” 

Spencer raised a hand to smack his own face at lightning speed, and slumped down into his seat in embarrassment. 

You bit your lip to suppress a grin. It stirred a filthy heat in your belly. But you knew that Spencer likely needed a while to sit with this and wouldn’t want to talk about it - not yet. So you reached over and turned on the radio, letting the music fill the space so that the silence wasn’t so awkward and gutting. 

…

Spencer didn’t talk for the entirety of the rest of the car ride, which didn’t surprise you. 

When you finally arrived at the ex-wife’s house, his hands were shaking with nerves as he tried to unlatch his seatbelt. You probably should have just left him alone to struggle, but an evil spark, likely fueled by the boredom of the day, flared up inside of you. You couldn’t resist the urge to lean over the console, very purposefully showing off your breasts as you gently pushed his hands away and undid the belt for him. 

“Here, let Mommy get that for you.” You said, distinct teasing on your breath as you mumbled the words into his ear. 

Spencer huffed out a deep sigh and collapsed back into his seat, and pushed his hair out of his face in frustration. But he didn’t say anything more as you gathered the files in preparation for the interview. 

He only spoke when you moved to get out of the car. 

“Look, I-” He began a half assed explanation, and you easily cut him off. 

“You let Morgan get in your head too much.” You told him with a chuckle, opening your door and getting out. 

But as he forced himself to follow you with numb limbs - he knew that this definitely wasn’t all Morgan’s fault. 

… 

The ex-wife didn’t know much. 

She described the marriage as hell - the suspect exhibited all the typical behaviors as a husband that they would have expected. He hated women, and he wanted full control over his wife at the time, which eventually led down the path of divorce. They had to sell the house they had bought together, but neither of them had moved out of Texas since. But he hadn’t contacted her in years. 

She had two young kids from a new relationship, and when the woman stepped out to take a call, you picked one of them up to soothe his cries, hushing him gently while you rubbed his back. 

Because of this, Spencer found himself even more dizzy and confused. 

He knew that it was Frueadian - some deep, misguided part of his psychology - something broken and missing inside of him because of his own fractured childhood. 

But seeing you being so sweet with a kid, especially after the day he’d had - he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be your baby, or if he wanted to shoot his cum so deep inside you that it would ensure he could give you one. 

(Ultimately, he knew that it was likely both - and that didn’t answer any questions for him. It just gave him far more questions.) 

… 

Even though the ex-wife couldn’t give you guys much more than you already knew, Hotch wanted you and Spencer to stay close by in case the suspect decided to make his ex-wife the end game. The two of you would be able to make it to her first if she called for help. 

So you and Spencer had dinner at a random local barbeque place off the highway and Spencer still didn’t talk much through it, other than posing some theories about the case. Even though he was a bit more talkative, he still refused to look at you - he stared down at his plate the whole time. Though whenever he did look up, you noticed that his eyes lingered on your chest - and he still wouldn’t look you in the eye. 

By the time the bill came around and the two of you were ready to leave, you knew exactly what you had to do. 

… 

Spencer waited by the car with his bag while you checked in and got a motel room (needing to stay in town, you got a room for the night). When you came back, you handed him the room key and then moved to get your bag out of the car. 

“Do… you already have yours?” He asked quietly. 

“Hmm?” You hummed in reply, slinging the strap of your go-bag over your shoulder before you closed the back door and used the remote to lock up the car. 

“Your room key?” 

You suppressed another grin. 

“I only got one room.” You told him. “You don’t mind sharing with me, right?” 

You gave him a purposeful look - looked at him through your lashes, bit your lip slightly, and subtly squeezed your breasts together with your upper arms, emphasizing them. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, but hopefully it seemed subtle. 

“I - uh - no.” Spencer stuttered. “It’s fine. We can share.” He gave a grin, not wanting to appear upset, even though his entire body was racked with nerves. 

Spencer followed you to the room and he fumbled with the key with shaking hands for a moment before he sighed and then handed it to you. 

His insides quaked when he saw that there was only one bed. 

He wasn’t sure if he should say anything about it. The two of you had slept in the same room before, but you had never shared a bed before. Sure, you had slept near each other before. He had accidentally fallen asleep on your shoulder on the plane or vice versa. But you had never crawled into bed together with the intention of sleeping together. 

And yes, just the entendre behind it made Reid’s head spin. 

He had a heavy knot in his gut, and hatefully - a distinct stirring in his crotch. He could only imagine how embarrassing it would be for you to wake up and see him compromised in some way. Or god forbid, if you caught him moaning in his sleep because of unconscious dreams that he couldn’t stop - for you to think that he was some kind of dirty sex pervert because of it. 

He felt an overwhelming need to clear the air overtake him. He had no clue how to broach the subject, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to spend the night like this. He wouldn’t be able to sleep with this anxiety hanging over his head. 

He studied you carefully as you sat down on the edge of the bed, ditching your bag off to the side and heaving out a tired sigh as you began taking off your shoes. 

Spencer put down his own bag and then stood there, fidgeting nervously as he searched for words. 

“I - uh - I am sorry about earlier.” He mumbled out the beginnings of an apology. “What Morgan said was stupid, and I-” 

“I don’t think it was stupid.” 

You let out a chuckle, and reached up the back of your shirt. Spencer found himself frozen, his eyes tracing your every moment as you unhooked your bra underneath your shirt and then moved to maneuver the straps out from your short sleeves while you kept talking. 

“I think he had a point.” You added on. “Good boys should get a reward. And I think you were fairly good today. You didn’t eat all your veggies at dinner, but you kept your feet off the dashboard and you were quiet during the car ride. You definitely get points for being patient during such a long trip, baby.” 

Your voice smoothed into a soothing tone, that word - baby - melting like butter over your tongue in a way that made Spencer’s knees wobble. He hadn’t known it until right now, but you calling him a ‘good boy’ and listing off such mundane things he had done that made him worthy of a reward fired off sparks inside of his brain. 

A breath choked off inside of his throat as you stood up off the bed and peeled your bra completely out from under your shirt. Somehow it was one of the sexiest things he had ever seen, revealing the hard peaks of your nipples and the beautiful natural teardrop shape of your breasts to him through the cotton fabric. 

Spencer wanted to speak, but his tongue felt so heavy and dry inside of his mouth. He knew that he was staring at your chest so blatantly now, but he couldn’t peel his eyes away. He couldn’t even feel ashamed anymore. 

That dull tingle in his crotch had turned into a full on stinging interest, and he unconsciously pulled at the fabric of his pants, trying to loosen some of the tension that was growing, not even considering how it might look to you - him dumbly reaching for his crotch to make it look looser when his hardening bulge was becoming more obvious by the second. 

It was one of the most ‘caveman’ things he had ever done in front of you - standing there with his mouth hanging slightly agape, pulling at his crotch without caring how it looked. You definitely wanted more, wanted to see how dumb he could get. How far you could make him devolve. 

“So what do you say, baby boy?” You hummed, stepping close into his personal space now, causing him to get a whiff of your perfume - something that was only a dull trace after such a long day, but still smelled so good. “Do you want Mommy to breastfeed you? Do you wanna suck on my tits as your reward?” 

You gently ran a thumb across his cheek, and paired with the words, Spencer’s brain short-circuited. 

He knew realistically that you weren’t actually offering to breastfeed him. There was no evidence in your life to say that your body could actually support the production of milk currently - but you were offering to let him play pretend. To suck on your tits with a very sexual air, to call you Mommy without the teasing humiliation behind it that Morgan had hinted at (or maybe Spencer liked that humiliation, he wasn’t even sure). (He hadn’t even known before this morning that he liked the idea of calling you Mommy, but here he was). 

All he could conjure in response was the dumbest, non-human sound. 

“Nngh.” 

It was a grunt from the back of his throat - too much blood swelling to his cock all at once and too much direct attention from you making him dizzy. 

You giggled quietly. 

“Come on, baby. Just say the word. And Mommy will give you everything you need.” 

Spencer inhaled sharply. At this point, he was desperate to get some oxygen to his brain. 

His mind was racing, chanting out: 

‘Yes! God, yes! I want it so badly, Mommy! I want anything you’ll give me. I need you. I need you so badly.’ 

But all his lips could form in the wake of such dizzying lust was: 

“Please.” 

“Good boy.” You sighed. 

You used a hand on his chin to tilt his face up to meet yours, and you consumed him in a kiss - he was hungry and eager to meet your touch, moaning loudly into your mouth, his hands racing to touch you now, rushing up to grip on your hips in the most utterly needy way. He balled the fabric of your shirt in his fists, like he couldn’t get enough of you - like he was afraid you would dissolve away if he let go of you for even a second. 

It was cute, to say the least. 

You only let the kiss last for a moment, though. You pulled away to a disappointed whine from Spencer, which you quietly hushed. 

“Hey, it’s okay baby.” You soothed him. “Come here. Mommy’s gonna take good care of you.” 

You lead him toward the bed, getting rid of his tie in the process, and Spencer stepped out of his shoes along the way. You slid onto the bed and laid up on the pillows on your back, Spencer clumsily following you, crawling on all fours. The two of you had barely started, but he was full-on panting now, racing to catch his breath while his blood hammered through his veins. 

He watched on with eager curiosity while you got comfortable, fluffing the pillow under your head before you then reached down and pulled up your shirt. You pulled the fabric to sit up under your chin, finally revealing your gorgeous breasts to him. 

If he was lost for words before, then he had receded back to a total neanderthal now. 

His mouth fell open and his salivary glands started working overtime as his eyes raked hungrily over your chest - enjoying the pure beauty of the fatty mounds, striped with zig-zagging stretch marks and completed by your hard peaked nipples. 

“Here, come on, baby.” 

You had to remind Spencer what the goal was, guiding him into place with a hand on the back of his head. You helped ease his body to lay on top of yours as he relaxed into you - and his mouth finally found its rightful place on your breast. He became greedy, suctioning hard on your nipple as though he might actually get something out of it. 

Truthfully, he did get something out of this. 

It definitely wasn’t any form of nutrition, but it was something that drove him lustfully insane and made his head fuzzy and warm in the best way. This was the only time in his entire life that he didn’t have ten thousand thoughts running through his mind like the news blasting on television in the background. This was the only time since his first conscious memory that he had actually known his mind to be quiet. 

He felt intensely thankful for it. Intensely thankful toward you for giving him this feeling. 

In that moment, without all the noise, all he knew was the comforting feeling of your fat tit under his mouth, the heat of your body under his own as you cradled him. The soothing firmness of your hands through his hair and down his back - and the distant, sweet purring of your voice in his ears. 

“Good boy.” You hummed, loving the feeling of him moaning around your nipple - so constant and so greedy now that you were sure he didn’t even know that he was doing it. “Such a good boy for me. Such a good boy for Mommy.” 

Your cunt was humming between your thighs, aching so hard at seeing Spencer like this. The usually composed, intelligent, practically robotic Doctor Reid reduced down to a blubbering, moaning, needy mess just because he wanted to suck on your tits. 

Just because you had called yourself Mommy a few times in his presence. 

It was so utterly beautiful, and you wanted more. 

(You didn’t think that you could ever let him go after this. You probably wouldn’t be able to stand the idea of another woman touching him after this. But you would have to think on that more later.) 

You noticed Spencer canting his hips, unconsciously seeking friction against his hard cock while he continued to suck on your breast. With his eyes closed blissfully, drool gathering around his lips where they met your skin in the most utterly adorable way. You couldn’t help yourself - you scooted your knee between his thighs. You then used a hand to help his hips into place, adjusting him so that he was getting good friction against your denim-clad thigh. 

“There you go. There you go, sweet boy.” You hummed, feeling another jolt through your body when he let out a sharper moan against your tit, and began humping your leg in earnest. 

You were quick to encourage him, putting both hands on his hips and helping him along while he greedily hung onto you. He had on your hip, the other hand slipping up to cup fingers around the bottom of your breast, making sure you didn’t escape him while he moved his body against you so frantically. 

“That’s just what you needed, isn’t it, baby?” You moaned out, your voice wavering slightly as the pleasure of it all thrummed through you. “Just a dumb little baby who needed Mommy’s tit.” 

The term ‘dumb little baby’ came flying out of your mouth before you could stop it. Though you knew exactly why it happened. Seeing such a brilliant genius reduced down to this truly did something to your ego. And apparently hearing those words from you did something to him, too. 

He whined sharply against your skin and his hips stuttered abruptly. You knew it wouldn’t be long before he came in his pants, his cock throbbing against the friction of your thigh. And this thought alone caused your mouth to run off without restraint. 

“Such a needy little thing.” You sighed. “You love being Mommy’s dumb baby, don’t you? Not a single fucking thought between your ears, just sucking on Mommy’s tit without a care in the world.” 

Spencer moaned and it sent another jolt through your body - another harsh pang through your cunt. You loved how much he needed you. You loved how much he was clearly eating this up. 

You didn’t even care if you got to cum tonight; you just wanted to exhaust him for all he was worth. Because he was so fucking pretty like this. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby boy? You gonna cum for Mommy? Come on, baby. Cum for me.” 

These words were what ultimately sent him over the edge. Well that along with your strong hands on his hips, encouraging him along while he was mindless and busy mouthing on your breast.

His jaw dropped open, finally loosening that desperate suction on your now slightly sore nipple as he began to pant frantically over your now spit-soaked skin. He moaned hotly while he humped you in an entirely adorable, almost distraught manner - absolutely desperate to have the most friction on his cock while his orgasm overtook him. 

You could feel his needy cock throbbing against you, trapped inside of his pants, shooting off hot ropes of cum that quickly soaked into his underwear and even then, seeped into the fabric of his slacks. You grinned and bit your lip as you felt that wetness even beginning to soak into your jeans, knowing he must have set off quite a big load. 

Spencer soon collapsed on top of you, gulping in air as he tried to catch his breath. 

Any normal person would have taken pity on him (seeing as he was clearly nervous and inexperienced) and wound things down to end the night here. Anyone else would have likely let him rest. 

But again, you felt devilish temptation overtake you. (It was a feeling that seemed to be much more ripe around Spencer Reid.) 

You just felt thankful that your temptation and inclination toward chaos came in the form of lust, rather than something more violent, like the people you studied every single day. Everyone around you should be thankful for that. 

You used your leverage (and the fact that you weren’t nearly as exhausted from the experience) to flip him over onto his back. He let out a surprised sound as his back made contact with the mattress - blinking up at you with shocked, glassy eyes as you moved down his body slightly. 

“Wha-?” He mumbled out the question, only getting out part of the word before you reached for the zipper on the front of his now wet pants. 

“Hey, shh, baby. I just wanna see you.” You told him quietly, causing him to stare down the length of his own body at your hands as you worked. 

You got the button and zipper undone quickly and you let out a quiet ‘fuck’ as you peeled back the wet fabric of his grey slacks to reveal the sight of his simplistic (very Reid) white cotton underwear slightly transparent and stuck tight to his cock, coated in wet, sticky cum. 

“So pretty baby.” 

He only whined in response. 

You couldn’t help yourself - you reached up and pulled down the waistband of his underwear, feeling more lust pricking through you as he was truly revealed to your eyes. He was perfect. Glossy and wet with his own release, his cock pinky red from the exertion and friction, still half hard. You pulled the clothes down over his hips and he lifted his body to help you, clearly glad to be rid of the mess, and the second you untangled the fabric from his ankles and ditched everything aside, you were back on him. 

You skimmed the tips of your fingers oh-so-lightly up his shaft where it was sprawled across his pelvis, and his hips jolted. He let out a bitter gasp - as though cold water had been splashed across him. 

“You said-” He choked on the words as you ran your thumb right underneath the crown, gently pressing into the head, causing him to choke on a moan while his knees quaked. 

You sat on his knees to keep him still and his head became so fuzzy once again. 

‘You said that you only wanted to look.’ 

The sentence died off in his lungs somewhere, and truthfully - he didn’t want to protest. He didn’t want you to stop. 

“Sens-sensitive.” He whined. “Too much.” 

“But you’re so pretty, baby.” You replied, your voice turning smooth and warm like butter again, melting over his whole body, causing all of his muscles to go soft and pliant for you. “Your cock is so pretty. I need to touch you.” 

He let out another strangled noise when you cupped your hand and took him fully in your grip this time, giving one good tug across his cock from root to tip. When you did this again, faster this time, his lungs seized inside his chest - trying to take in oxygen so quickly, as though he were drowning on dry land. 

“You gonna be good for me, baby?” 

“Yes.” He gargled back in response. “Yes, Mommy.” 

He was already so wet from cumming in his pants, and he let out a pathetic dribble of precum as you continued to move your hand - so it was an easy, slick slide. One that sent harsh shockwaves through him from overstimulation. Against his own will, he soon ballooned back to full hardness - becoming painfully swollen in your hand while you sped up your touch and closed your fist tighter around him. It caused the most wonderful hurt between his legs, and made a downright filthy wet sound as you pumped your grip faster along his needy cock. 

Spencer heard wailing and felt the soreness against his throat before he realized that he was the one making those desperate sounds. He distantly wondered what it might sound like to someone else, if the rooms on either side were occupied, if the motel would receive a noise complaint about some frail woman getting fucked to death by her husband next door - because that’s what he sounded like in his own ears. 

But any of those half-thoughts were chased out of his brain the second you flicked your thumb up over the head of his cock and your dirty mouth filled his ears once again. 

“Gonna milk this pretty cock, baby.” You told him, your voice firm. “You gonna show Mommy how much you can cum for me? Gonna show me what a good boy you are?” 

Spencer let out another pathetic sound, his body singing with pleasure at his pure need to prove to you that - yes, he was a good boy. 

He felt tears wet on the side of his face before he realized that he was crying, but it was all too good to ask you to stop. 

You used your other hand to cradle his balls and you swooped down to capture his gasping mouth in another kiss (a very messy, open mouthed kiss that Spencer could barely pay attention to). Spencer screamed into your mouth while he painted his stomach with cum once again.

You only stopped jerking his cock once you had truly milked every last drop from him, his hips seizing up off the bed and your hand almost slipping off him completely from how sloppily wet it was with more of his cum added to the mix. 

He was purely exhausted then. His eyes blinked heavily, struggling to stay open. He vaguely remembered you cleaning him off and tucking him into bed - but he definitely enjoyed falling asleep curled up next to your warmth. 

…

The next morning, Spencer felt hungover. 

He wondered if that’s what good sex always felt like - the combination of endorphins rushing through your body and physical exertion tackling you over. His legs were sore, as though he had run several miles. (Which wasn’t even something he could make a bold comparison to anyway, because he didn’t exercise nearly as much as he should for someone with this job). He woke up starving, grateful when you drove to a diner down the road after checking out of the motel and planted him in one of the booths before going outside to call Hotch in order to touch base with the rest of the team. 

You came back with a small grin on your face. 

“Turns out that tip the ex-wife gave us about their first house in Arlington was pretty solid.” You told Reid. “They caught the guy on his way there. He had another girl in the trunk. They got her back mostly unarmed, and took him into custody.” 

Spencer nodded. “That’s good.” 

When he moved to grab another sugar packet out of the caddy on the side of the table, three of them already open and empty beside his cup of coffee, you grabbed him by the wrist. 

“That’s enough, baby.” You told him. 

His stomach curled, that distinct feeling running through him again. And against his will, that word slipped out - again. 

“Yes, Mommy.”

...

A/N: This is a standalone oneshot. There won't be a sequel or a continuation, so please do not ask for one. If you liked the fic, please comment about the body of work that has been written, or consider reblogging to show your appreciation. If you want to see more Spencer Reid fics that I have written, you can check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist, or you can check out my Masterlists for other fandoms to see if anything catches your eye. Thank you for reading!

[radiant-reid]

Touched starved

It was no secret this case had been extra hard on Spencer. Even Y/n, the newest member of the team, knew some bad things happened when he was kidnapped by Tobias Hankel. Most of the details were covered up though.

Spencer didn’t talk about it much. Only a few words when he felt strong enough. With having only been at the BAU for two years Y/n knew the least of what happened. 

Then again, she was a profiler. She could tell this case was having a more-than-usual bad effect on Spencer. 

It was because of the parallels, she figured. This unsub had been kidnapping and torturing victims. Having to solve it and, more importantly, knowing there was someone out there just like him, was hard on Spencer. 

His brain almost didn’t work as it ran constant flashbacks of what Hankel did to him. Like a horror movie with no ending. 

Everyone noticed, not just Y/n.

She just didn’t understand why they wouldn’t help him. They were all far closer to him than Y/n was. Prentiss, Morgan and JJ didn’t seem to be doing anything to help him but Y/n just felt like she couldn’t let him suffer in silence. She knew Garcia had tried to ask him how he was on the phone but there was only so much she could do from so far away. It wasn’t any of the team's fault though, they knew how Spencer operated.

That was how she found herself outside his hotel room on the 3rd night of the case. After seeing his condition slowly deteriorate throughout the hours they’d been on the case, she couldn’t just sit by. So dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants, she knocked on his door. 

“Y/n... what are you doing here?” Spencer asked as he opened the door to see who it was. It was very obvious that in the 4 hours since Hotch had sent them to get some rest, Spencer had not slept a second. 

“I...” Y/n didn’t actually know how to answer his question. Instead, she just walked into his hotel room which caused him a lot of confusion. The puzzled look on his face didn’t stop. “I’m here for you, Spence.” She told him as she sat on his bed. 

“Obviously, you’re in my room but I don’t understand why.” He replied. His brows were furrowed and his arms crossed across his chest. At least he’d changed into a hoodie and pants. Y/n didn’t think she’d ever seen him in a hoodie. 

“Come here.” She instructed and he obliged, walking over to her so he was at the foot of the bed. “I’m here so you can have someone to talk to. Or not to talk to.” She explained. He still, very obviously, didn’t understand. “You haven’t stopped working on this case for almost 72 hours straight, that’s unhealthy. Now, you’re going to relax and just stop thinking about it.” 

Spencer huffed out a sigh. “I can’t just stop thinking about it.”

“Why?” 

“There’s someone out there who can’t stop thinking about it. He’s scared, terrified. And he’s just hoping that we can save him. But everything is telling him that there’s no one left. That they’re going to get there and be left with just his body.” Spencer hunched over as he talked, feeling as small as he looked. Tears were forming in his eyes and he was desperately fighting them. “I can’t stop working on this because we need to find out where he is. I can’t stop working on this because he can’t stop thinking about it. He’s living through the torture but he’s going to give up and want to give in to death.”

“What happened, Spencer?” Y/n softly asked as the tears started spilling down his cheeks. 

He just stood there blankly. “I can’t.” He sobbed out. 

Y/n knew about his aversion to hugs but she pulled him in for one, wrapping her arms around his slender waist. To her surprise, he leant into the embrace. 

They stayed like that for a while before she pulled back, picking up his hand. She moved back so she was sitting against the headboard and pulled Spencer over, patting her lap. He didn’t even give a second thought to lay his head on her lap. His brain could almost stop spinning as he laid there. 

Y/n moved her hand to his hair, threading it through her fingers. It was remarkably soft and fluffy. 

“What happened to you, Spence?” She asked him again. 

With tears still streaming out his eyes he could answer. “It hurt so much, Y/n. He wouldn’t stop it, no matter how much I begged. I was so helpless there.” He choked out, in a broken sentence due to his heavy breathing. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m right here.” Y/n comforted again. She tested out the boundaries by running her hand over his cheek and when he leant into her hand she continued to brush the tears off his cheek. “Let it all out.”

“I couldn’t do anything!” Spencer cried. It was the most painful sound she’d ever heard. Someone so composed and always perfect falling apart. He was broken. “I just sat there while he beat me. I can still feel it. When I close my eyes sometimes I see him. It’s so stupid because I know, scientifically, I’m experiencing PTSD but sometimes I feel all the walls coming down on me.”

Y/n’s heart broke for him. “Spencer, it’s not stupid.” He cried even harder at that. 

“I just need to crack the case and save him, Y/n. I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t.”

Y/n moved her hand to rub his back. “I know you feel that way.” She didn’t really know what to say to comfort him. He was so often the one helping everyone else out. 

“I feel so silly for still being scared too.” He mentioned. 

“Oh, Spence, it’s okay. Hankel is dead and you’re safe now.” She soothed him, still rubbing circles in his back.

He was still bawling his eyes out, feeling unbearable sadness. “I know that. But I still see him and I can still remember every second of it.”

“You didn’t deserve any of that.” She told him firmly. “He was sick, I know you know that. You went through the worst things imaginable and you’re so strong.”

He lightly nodded. “Will it get better?”

“Yes, if you keep talking about it. To anyone. JJ?” Y/n suggested. 

“I like talking to you.” He mentioned it, quieter than before. Y/n could finally smile at that. Despite everything, Spencer was still so kind. 

“Good.” She told him as she moved her hand back to his hair. “I could see it was getting to you. With all the similarities in him drugging and abusing his victims. I can’t imagine what you went through but I’m so proud of you.” She continued, meaning every word she told him. 

The tears had stopped coming so fast now. They were still constant but a weaker flow. “I just felt so helpless when I was there.”

Y/n almost chuckled at that. “Spencer, from what I’ve heard you were the one who told the team how to find you. I think you were so brave and I know they’re all so proud of you.” She told him. 

“Thank you.” He murmured as he moved his head in her lap. She continued to comb through his hair. 

They stayed in the exact position for a while. Until, eventually, the tears stopped. 

Spencer then sat up. His cheeks were flushed red as he made eye contact with Y/n. “I’m sorry I completely freaked out.” He nervously rambled out an apology. 

Y/n couldn’t have shaken her head faster. “Spencer Reid, you don’t have to be sorry for anything. Everyone needs someone to talk to.”

“I’ve got to save him, Y/n,” Spencer told her as he moved to get up off the bed, no doubt to go to his makeshift workspace. 

Instead, Y/n tugged on his arm, not letting him move. “I know you’ve got to, Spence. But you can’t do that if you haven’t slept or relaxed in days.” She informed him. He was smart enough, and he had read at least 300 articles on the importance of sleep, to not argue with her. 

“Okay, I’ll sleep. Thanks for coming to see me.” He told her, trying to get her out of the room. 

Y/n noticed. “I don’t think so. You’re stuck with me for the night, buddy.” She told him as she pattered her lap again. 

He looked like he was thinking about putting his head on it but he stopped. “Then you won’t sleep.” He realised.

“Okay then,” Y/n said as she pulled the covers of his bed up and got in. “I hope you’re okay with cuddling.” She was a little worried he wouldn’t be into it, just because of his germaphobic nature. But her worries subsided when he got in next to her and quickly put his head on her chest, 

Y/n moved so she was lying flat on her back with her head on a pillow. Spencer put his own head on her chest and wrapped his arms around her waist like a baby koala would its mother. 

She moved her arm so she could wrap it around Spencer’s torso and pull him closed but he stopped her. “Can you, uh... could you do it to my, um, hair?” He nervously asked. 

Happy to oblige, Y/n moved her hand to his hair and started to run her fingers through it. “If you just want to lie here it’s fine but we can talk too.” She offered him, still unsure of what he needed. Spencer was so used to closing up that he decided to go against what his brain was telling him. 

“My parents,’ He started, “When I was little we didn’t really do touching... no one’s ever hugged me like this.” The thought of a little kid Spencer not getting hugged broke Y/n’s heart again. 

“Is this okay?” She asked, cautious of where his boundaries might lie. 

“Yes.” He hurriedly answered, not wanting her to stop for a second. “I like it. I just didn’t get hugs as a kid from anyone. And as I grew up I learnt more about germs and figured that’s why my parents repealed me.” He spoke slowly and softly like he was half asleep. Maybe he was. “But I like this. It makes me feel better.” He figured. 

“That’s good.” Y/n hummed. “I’m always here for you if you want to talk or just cuddle.” She told him. 

The smile she could feel against her chest warmed her heart. “I’d like that and please don’t stop stroking my hair.” 

She smiled at that. “I won’t.” She meant it as she leant down to place a kiss on his forehead.

[soulofapatrick]

Coming Together - Spencer Reid

It’s been a strangely quiet week for crime and everyone’s just been waiting for something to happen. It can never stay quiet for long, there’s always some murderer going to strike. 

All my paperwork’s done so I’m just sitting on Spencer’s desk as he does the rest of his, just absentmindedly playing with the rubix cube that I have absolutely no intention of solving. It’s just something to do. 

It gets boring so quickly so I put it down and turn my attention to Spencer’s hair that’s slowly getting longer. He lets out a sound of protest when I turn his chair 90° so I can begin running my hands through the curls that reach just past his ears. I decide he should have braids and he doesn’t seem to mind as he’s going back to reading his case files a mile a minute. 

“Well doesn’t Wonder Boy look pretty.” Morgan teases as he enters the bullpen, causing Spencer and I to look up in sync, “You’re right Thorn, braids are definitely Spencer’s thing.” 

Whenever any of the team calls me Thorn always makes me smile, a nickname and a meaning of belonging just for me. I mean I do also secretly love it when Spencer calls me by my first name, I love the way ‘Y/N’ just rolls off of his tongue. 

“A case?” I ask as Hotch and Emily join us on the bullpen floor and Hotch shakes his head. I can’t help the sigh, it’s getting kinda boring now. 

“Go home everyone, we’ll call you if you’re needed.” Hotch tells us and Spencer cautiously gets us, making sure my hands don’t get tangled in his hair while I just stay where I’m sat on his desk, watching as he methodically packs his satchel. 

“You coming?” He turns to me, realising I haven’t even moved. 

“Do you want to come over?” I have to look up as he stands in front of me to meet his gaze, “We could watch a movie?”

“Yeah that sounds good, I would like that very much.” He smiles. 

***********

Waking to my phone buzzing is nothing unusual but the body wrapped around my back catches me off guard. The arm around my waist tightens and a nose nuzzles against the back of my neck as I reach for my phone.

“Hotch?” I know my voice is groggy as man am I tired still.

“We’ve got a new case, get here as soon as.” And with that he hangs us, leaving me to just groan and drop my phone because I’m so warm and comfortable right now. 

“A case?” Oh my god, Spencer’s morning voice is heaven to my ears and definitely somewhere else. 

“Yeah.” 

‘We should-“ 

“Shhhhh.” I grumble, rolling over and burying my face in the crook of his neck. 

“Y/N, we should…” He trails off, gently ghosting his fingers up and down my spine and pressing a kiss to my hair before he says so quietly I almost don’t hear it, “I like this.” 

“I like this too Spence.” I press a kiss to his neck, just to feel him pull me closer, “Let’s get there before Hotch kills us.” 

“Yes that is a good point.” We both pull away from each other, lingering on touches before we grab the first clothes we find. I definitely don’t say anything when I realise I picked up Spencer’s sweater because it smells like him and yeah it might be a bit baggy but it’s Spencer’s.

********* 

The elevator ride up Spencer and I don’t talk but one glance at each other lets us know we’re not sure enough about what we are to enter the bullpen holding hands. Spencer gives my hand one reassuring squeeze before letting go. He shifts closer to me though so our shoulders bump as we walk towards the meeting room where the others are already there. 

Everyone glances over and I don’t know if Spencer sees the way Morgan’s eyes narrow at the closeness of us, especially as everyone knows Spencer can be a bit of a germaphobe. 

“Took you long enough,” There’s a teasing tone to Emily’s voice as we take our seats so JJ can explain the case.

********* 

“How are you doing?” Spencer slides into the empty seat next to me, knowing the case was a stressful one for me and I know he can tell that I’m just glad we’re on the plane home.

“I’m okay,” I smile softly at him, reaching under the table to link my pinkie finger with his and I take the risk of resting my head on his shoulder, wanting to take a nap. 

********* 

Morgan decided to prank Spencer for his birthday and give him a cream pie instead of a birthday cake first. He does the most un-Spencer thing ever and leans into the pie, opening his mouth and begins eating the cream. 

I choke on my drink when I see his tongue dart out to lick the pie up, muttering in a breathy tone “Oh good lord,” evading JJ’s knowing smirk as I turn and leave before I pounce on Spencer right there and then. 

A few minutes later a familiar figure is standing in front of me, “Didn’t like show?” 

‘Goddamn Spencer and those lips’ I think as he’s got a cheeky smile plastered on his face and a bit of whipped cream on his top lip. At the sight of the whipped cream I lose all control, grabbing Spencer’s hair and yanking him down into a lust filled kiss. The taste of the cream mixed with everything Spencer makes me glad his hands are on my hips as my legs feel like jelly right now. 

[gavin-plz-call-me]

Do the obey me boys wash their asses?

I-uhh don't have an explanation for this, I just thought it was a fucking hilarious idea.

0-10 skid marks scale, with 0 being a pristine, clean ass and 10 being this pair of brown underwear used to be white...

Enjoy I guess...

Lucifer: Yes

His pride does not allow him to walk around with an unwashed ass.

Conversely, his pride doesn't enjoy the act of washing his ass.

Imagine if someone walked in on him, Lucifer, Avatar of pride, hand in his ass crack making sure it's clean.

Would be mortified if anyone, especially Diavolo, walked in on him in the act.

2/10 skid marks

Mammon: No

I'm sorry Mammon stans, but this man has an unwashed ass.

Just doesn't think about it when he's showering, he washes his hair and his arms probably, everything else is up to the water falling on it.

Probably one of those guys who says washing your ass is gay, will even say it if he's dating a guy.

9/10 skid marks

Levi: Yes

Levi loves the water, being a water snake demon or whatever tf he is, so when he does shower/bathe he's finding every reason to stay in there for a bit longer, and thoroughly washing his ass gives him a bit more time in the warm water.

Emphasis on When he showers.

This boy might love water, but he also has horrible time management skills, so he doesn't shower often.

I mean he's gotta play that new game that just came out, dust his ruri-chan figures, and watch I'm madly in love with my classmate, but she's a germaphobe so I have to learn to properly wash my ass before I ask her out because that'll definitely be a deal-breaker for her, an anime that was highly recommended to him, he doesn't have time to shower.

7/10 skid marks

Satan: Yes

Unlike Lucifer, it's not Satan's pride that compels him to wash his ass, it's the fact that not washing your ass isn't healthy.

He's read about numerous infections caused by unwashed asses and he's not about to contract one of those.

If he somehow walked in on Lucifer washing his ass, however, he'd relentlessly make fun of him for it.

Same if he somehow found a skid mark on Lucifer's underwear, so it's a lose-lose situation for poor old Luci.

1/10 skid marks

Asmo: Yes

Do I even need to explain this one?

Of course, he washing his ass every day, very thoroughly I might add.

He's the avatar of lust, former jewel of the heavens, he has to look absolutely perfect.

Plus, you never know when someone wanting to absolutely fuck him into oblivion, spend the day with him will show up.

0/10 skid marks

Beel: Yes

I was compelled to say no at first, but I feel like Beel doesn't really have a choice in the matter.

I mean, let's be honest with ourselves, with the amount Beel eats, he probably shits like a maniac.

If he didn't wash his ass, he'd be a Petri dish for ass-infections.

That being said, he's not very good at it.

6/10 skid marks

Belphie: No

Oh boy, does this guy have a horribly dirty ass.

He probably showers, what, once a month.

And when he does shower, he's in and out, just wanting to go back to bed.

At least Mammon showers frequently.

10/10 skid marks

Diavolo: Yes

Only because Barbatos nags him about it.

He's kinda a man-child at heart, so he also doesn't really think about it unless constantly reminded.

Every once in a while, Barbatos will come up to him when he's forgotten to do it, Milord, what have I said about proper hygiene?

Diavolo knows Barbatos can see into the future, but he only uses that ability when Diavolo requests it of him, so how the hell does he know?

He does your laundry, Dia, baby, of course he knows.

4/10 skid marks

Barbatos: Yes

As Diavolo's butler, Barbatos must maintain a pristine appearance.

That includes his ass, even if no one is going to see it I can change that Barb 😏

Is skilled in ass cleaning, like he's skilled in everything else.

0/10 skid marks

Solomon: Technically

He doesn't physically wash his ass, he created a spell to do that for him.

The spell isn't very good, though. You'd think for a master sorcerer, he'd be able to perfect the spell, but no spell can supplement good old elbow grease when it comes to washing your ass.

4/10 skid marks

Simeon: Yes

Having an unwashed ass is a sin, so, naturally, he washes his ass every day.

May occasionally miss a spot or two, but he's overall his ass is clean.

1/10 skid marks

Luke: Yes

He tries, but he's barely potty-trained yet, so don't hold him accountable for it.

He'll get better as he grows.

He's trying his best/10 skid marks

[ordinaryschmuck]

...Alright, listen.

I LOST my Harry Potter books. Didn't burn them. Just lost them. So THAT was the lie.

And that Turkey thing...That deserves a post of its own.

But the used condom story...Alright, listen:

In my first year of college, I spent a good chunk of it throwing away garbage people just left around campus. I wasn't paid to do this. I just did it because the campus was filthy with litter, especially with this one parking lot that was nemesis, for it had FOUR trashcans, but people more than often ignored them. There was even this one time when I found a discarded McDonald's bag between two garbage cans that were four feet away from each other. It was ridiculous.

And, yes, germaphobes, I wore gloves...Eventually.

When my mom caught me doing this one day, she made me wear gloves.

And the only reason I don't do this NOWADAYS is because Covid hit, and doing what I was doing would be causing more harm than good.

Now, one day, as I was doing this, while wearing gloves, I came across a used condom in that same parking lot..

How could I tell that it was used? Because it had...specimen in it.

And I swear to everything that's holy, I have never looked at a used condom longer in my life. Because I was put into a position.

I could either walk away, pretend I didn't see it and letting some bird or crap eat it. Or I could throw it away myself.

And given that I'm telling this story...you know which option I went with.

Thankfully, I didn't use my hands. Gloved or not, I'm not a frickin' lunatic.

But I DID use...was my pencil.

I took one of the pencils I had on me, stuck it into the frickin' thing, held it up at arms length, and went, "Ew, ew, ew" as I tossed both the condom and my pencil into the nearest garbage can.

And that, my friends and followers, is how I lost my pencil to a used condom.

Thank you very much.

Let's play a quick game of two truths and a lie.

[spacedikut]

lockdown lovers ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: lockdown!au. spencer goes from expecting his days to be filled with books, books and more books to books, an asshole cat, and a cute anonymous neighbour. 4857 words

a/n: i was so excited about this and stayed up writing it so i hope you like it too :)

masterlist

It’s three days into lockdown when Spencer notices the cat.

It’s a Maine Coon, he recognises instantly, but there’s this distinctive… dead look in it’s eyes. The body is huge – so fluffy it looks like the cat has a mane, ears invariably up straight and large enough that the eyes look beady in comparison. A mixture of white and grey throughout, the cat spends its days lounging across the windowsill of the apartment in the building next to Spencer’s.

He’s fascinated. How can a cat be so big, so ugly, yet so lovely?

He has to know more.

If he was anyone else, he’d argue the obsession is the fruit of going stir-crazy in his apartment. A lack of seeing his friends combined with having to work cases from home would be the perfect justification for Spencer to move his work station to the window facing the cat.

But this is Spencer. He’s happy being stuck home. He just likes the look of the cat.

He spends a good twenty minutes rifling through his stationary to find a piece of paper and the appropriate pen to jot a note for the cat owner. He thinks the owner must be stuck home, too, so if he sticks the note to his window and waits a day, he could know the cat’s name within twenty four hours.

They’ve had plenty of staring contests. Spencer should know his rival’s name.

So he does. He takes his time writing out the words “I like your cat. Do they have a name?” clearly on the paper, then spends a good five minutes deciding where on the window to stick the message.

He decides on the upper left corner. You won’t miss it.

The cat blinks sleepily at him as they watch Spencer tape the question up.

There’s an answer within three hours.

Spencer is too excited to be embarrassed at how enthused he was when he noticed the response.

Or when he saw the name.

Hi there! His name is Mr Darcy :) He’s a dick x

Spencer can’t help but profile the writing, the syntax, the grammar.

The first thing he notices is there’s a feminine lilt to the way you write – you’re a woman, most likely. The writing is slightly messy, indicating high intelligence, and the use of a smiley face and a kiss makes him think you’re younger in age. If you live alone, which you must because you live in a one bedroom apartment, he can safely guess you’re around his age.

And Mr Darcy… you’re a bookworm. At least for romance and the classics.

Spencer likes Mr Darcy. He has so many questions, suddenly, like how is Mr Darcy a dick and how old is he and why does he never seem to move from his position by the window and what is your name and who are you and do you happen to read a lot of books? Like Ray Bradbury? Please say yes.

He shocks himself. Maybe this quarantine is getting to him more than he realises. He hasn’t felt this excited since Maeve.

He hasn’t been this intrigued since Maeve. And the circumstances are similar, he realises.

No. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Spence.

He worries himself into a spiral when he begins thinking about how to reply. As if she can hear his whining, Penelope calls him.

They’ve made it a habit to call one another a lot. She recently taught him how to use his webcam and has been encouraging him to write more on his computer, rather than by hand.

“Good afternoon, my favourite Doctor.” She sings. He hears some shuffling in the background and can tell she’s baking.

“I need your help with something.” He cuts straight to the chase.

Her interest is piqued, “Oh? I am all ears.”

“Remember the cat I mentioned?”

“The ugly-but-beautiful majestic beast that, if you believed in reincarnation, would’ve been a high class gentleman in his past life? Yes. I think about him every day.”

“His name’s Mr Darcy.”

She lets out a screech, a mixture of a groan and moan that is filled with pure glee. “Of course he’s called Mr Darcy! Tell me everything. How do you know?”

He’s clearly impressed with himself when he says, “I asked.”

“Whoa.” Penelope freezes in her kitchen. “Are you, Doctor Germaphobe, breaking the lockdown rules?”

Spencer feels insulted. “No! Never! I stuck a note to my window, like in that viral tweet you sent me.”

She chuckles, “Well, I already told you I could’ve told you everything about Mr Darcy and the owner if you wanted me to. I am incredible.”

“I appreciate the gesture, Garcia-“

“But it’s morally wrong. Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. What have you said back?”

“That’s what I need your help with.”

Garcia is only a little surprised he’s asking her and not Derek. But, then, as much as she loves Derek, he’s a bit too.. much for someone like Spencer when it comes to love. Spencer approaches people gently, hesitantly, often giving the impression he doesn’t even want to be there.

Derek can have anyone on their knees within minutes.

Different tactics, that’s all.

“Alright, pretty boy. How long have you been talking? Purely through window messages? What else has been said?”

“Well,” He begins, clearing his throat, making eye contact with Mr Darcy, “We’ve only spoken once. When I asked for Mr Darcy’s name. You know, studies have shown that animals can form lifelong friendships with other animals, even if they’re not from the same species.”

“Spencer.”

“Most research has focused on chimpanzees, baboons, horses, hyenas, elephants, bats, and dolphins - but there’s no reason to think that friendship is exclusive to these species.”

“Spencer!”

“What?”

“You’ve spoken to them once?”

“Her. Spoken to her once. And it wasn’t speaking, it was writing.”

There’s a long sigh down the phone. “First of all, how do you know the owner’s a girl?”

There’s movement in Mr Darcy’s apartment. Spencer stares. “The way she writes.”

“Uhuh,” Spencer can hear her stirring something through the phone, “And what was the last thing said?”

Spencer’s eyes narrow – is that a person? Is that the owner? Is that her? Oh my god.

“Spencer? You still there?” Garcia looks to her laptop, checking the call is still connected.

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry. The last thing she said was his name is Mr Darcy and he’s a dick.”

“Oh,” Garcia smirks, “It’s sexy hearing you say dick.”

In normal circumstances, Spencer would register her comment and give a very distinct huh, but he’s distracted.

He sees Mr Darcy meow. A hand appears, petite, with fingernails painted yellow that have smiley faces on them. She brushes Mr Darcy’s fur back, pulling so the skin around his eyes tugs up high and he looks stupid. He seems to like it, though.

She must like smileys, he thinks.

Mr Darcy stands and stretches. He’s alarmingly long.

It’s silent on Garcia’s end, where she looks confused at the sudden silence. She checks again that the call is still connected.

“Spence?”

“Still here. Sorry. I thought I saw her.”

“Oooo,” She’s all giddy, “What does she look like? Is she pretty?”

“I couldn’t see her properly. I can tell she’s too cool for me already. This was stupid.” He sighs, “Forget I said anything. I’ll take knowing Mr Darcy’s name and move on with my life.”

Spencer moves to hang up, but is interrupted by a loud “No!” being shouted at him by Garcia.

“No, Spencer! No! You write something back to her right now and you form a friendship with someone that isn’t one of your colleagues. I love you with my whole heart, and you know that, but it would be good for you to expand your social circle!” She grins and bites her tongue between her teeth, “Aaaand.. this could be the start of a quarantine romance. God, I miss dating.”

At the mention of romance, Spencer visibly flinches. “I’ll see what I can do. I gotta go, Garcia, thanks for calling.”

“Love you. Please marry her so Mr Darcy can be the ring bearer.”

And she hangs up. He’s left contemplating whether he should respond, and what he should respond, as he watches the empty space where Mr Darcy is absent.

It must be dinner time for him.

+++

I’m curious as to how someone named Mr Darcy can be a dick.

That’s a good response, right?

Right?

It lets you know he gets the reference, he knows who Mr Darcy is named after, and leads you to continue the conversation. It’s perfect.

It’s taken him nearly two hours to come up with it. He feels exhausted.

He sticks it on the window, where Mr Darcy has returned to, and huffs out a breath.

He reminds himself to be calm and cool. This is simply a way to pass the time during quarantine, there’s no need to put too much pressure on himself to think it’s anything more or to put more effort than is necessary (he says, after spending two hours formulating a response).

Calm and cool. Cool and calm. Neither are words Spencer would ever use to describe himself.

Spencer stays up until nearly 1am reading. Just before he sleeps, he walks to the kitchen to get some water, and can’t resist checking to see if you’ve responded.

You have. He ignores the way his heart speeds up.

He used to share the windowsill with my other cat and a bunch of plants. Now he bites anything that attempts to move near him. He also likes to vomit on my pillow. My single pillow.

Spencer chuckles as he reads it. He remembers when the window was full of plants, and how one day they all just… disappeared. He assumed the person moved out, but now it’s funny to think that you had to move them all because Mr Darcy demanded he own that space.

He doesn’t recall ever seeing another cat.

Well, now he has to respond. He needs to know about the other cat!

He imagines Derek coming to him in an apparition, like some sort of angel, and saying, calm and cool, kid. Calm and cool.

Spencer decides he’ll reply in the morning. Cause he’s calm and cool, and totally doesn’t want to know anything and everything about you and the two cats you live with.

+++

The messages continue for days. Spencer learns a lot, despite his “attempts” to not profile you (“attempts” as in there was really no attempt).

He learns you were given Mr Darcy by a friend, he’s two years old, and your other cat is the recently adopted, affectionately named Stupid Sally. She’s a ginger cat, estimated to be at least four years old, and you refuse to believe there’s anything going on in that tiny head of hers.

Spencer catches a glimpse of Sally a couple of days after he learns her name. She jumps up beside Mr Darcy, bonks her head on the window, then is whacked by Mr Darcy and falls from the windowsill. Sally doesn’t make another attempt.

He still hasn’t seen you, though. The longer he talks to you, the more he wants Garcia to send him everything she can find on you.

But he has restraint. And fear.

He wants to know more, wants to learn more about the anonymous girl in the opposite building. He doesn’t even know your name, and he assumes you don’t know his, and he’s not entirely sure what number apartment you live in.

He considers asking to convert your conversation from post-it notes on windows to hand-written letters, but that reminds Spencer too much of Maeve and he can’t handle that.

Do you know how difficult it is for Spencer Reid, with all his knowledge and facts and ramblings, to limit himself and how much he says?

It’s torture.

The sun is blinding when Spencer pulls his curtain back, eyes navigating to see if there’s a new message waiting.

I haven’t asked, do you have any cats? Any pets? Mr Darcy would be a terrible boyfriend but Sally could use a lover :)

Before he can stop himself, his mind is whirring with the possible implications of your message. Does this mean you want to meet? You want to know about him as much as he wants to know about you? You’re interested?

He needs to call Penelope. He wants to talk to you so badly, learn everything there is to know, but he can’t bring himself to do it. The situation reminds him of Maeve and, although it’s been so long, he’s still mourning. He’s not sure he’s ready.

Turns out he doesn’t need to worry. You’ve got your own plan.

+++

“So,” Your friend sighs, flopping onto the couch, “You got his number? His name? Anything?”

“No,” You pout, “Not even sure he’s a guy.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

You playfully gasp. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but I am insulted.”

She chuckles. She knows all about your curious neighbour - she’s the one that encouraged you to reply and keep replying. And now she’s the one trying to convince you to form an actual friendship.

“Just put your number on your window.”

“Do you know how dangerous that is?!” You scold, “Anyone could see it!”

“Yeah, but neighbour guy could see it. And text you. And be really cute.”

You can’t help but glance behind you, into your bedroom window, where the infamous window is. Mr Darcy lounges, completely zonked out with the sunshine keeping him warm.

“What’s the worst that can happen? Some random people text you and you, what, block them? That’s it. Easy.”

Life is so easy for extroverts, you think.

You grab your notebook, rip a piece out and jot down your number before you have a change of heart. You’re essentially double messaging through the medium of your window messaging. But who cares?

What have you got to lose?

+++

Spencer stares at your phone number for way too long. Mr Darcy, as if sensing Spencer’s battle, lazily lifts a paw and rests it against the paper, pushing it into the window.

Spencer dials Penelope’s number straight from memory.

“I was beginning to think you’d died, Spencer-“

“Is it a terrible idea to start texting with Mr Darcy’s owner?”

“What?!” She exclaims, “No! No no no no no! That is an incredible idea! Spencer, please tell me you’re texting her!”

Penelope’s excitement gives him a rush of confidence. She’s always so supportive, so encouraging. Penelope is the best.

“I’m staring at her phone number. I just- we know what happened last time..” He trails off, voice meek. He wants to pretend he isn’t constantly thinking about the worst outcome, but he is. He’s scared.

Penelope’s voice is soft down the phone, “Spence. You have nothing to be afraid of, okay? I’m so proud of you for even considering texting her. But if you truly think you’re not ready, maybe you’re not. But remember, this doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to. You can keep the conversation to cats and cats only.”

Spencer smiles even though she can’t see him. She’s right. It doesn’t have to be anything and, honestly, it’s likely it won’t be anything – after all, Spencer isn’t exactly confident when it comes to women.

She might also have a boyfriend. A husband. A wife. He doesn’t know.

He realises he’s started thinking way too deep about someone he doesn’t even know the name of.

“Does that silence mean you’re gonna text her?” Penelope questions, suspense and hope clear in her voice.

“Yeah,” He replies, glancing at Mr Darcy, “I am.”

+++

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Hello. I’m Spencer.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner] hello??????? do i know a spencer?

Embarrassment flushes through him. What a weird way to introduce yourself, he chastises himself, Great first impression.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s owner]: Sorry. I’m the one that’s been asking about your cats through the window.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: really? prove it

He wants to feel insulted that you’re so suspicious, but is simultaneously impressed that you’re so cautious. It makes sense to worry after posting your number for anyone to see.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Of course. I’ll put a note on my window with my number now.

He does just that, shuffling quickly and frantically like he does when his mind is moving a thousand miles a minute during a case. He slaps the note against the window, unable to resist hovering on the off chance he spots you.

His phone buzzes.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: oh hi spencer! im Y/N, owner of Mr Darcy and sally :)

He can’t help but chuckle at the sudden change of tone. You take stranger danger seriously, it seems.

Why does he find that so endearing?

He’s getting ahead of himself, again. Calm and cool.

They pick up the conversation from where the last note left off, where you asked Spencer if he has any pets of his own. He finds it much easier to talk to you like this, rambling and all, which you don’t seem to mind. Your texting style is distinctively different to his, making his phone vibrate multiple times as you send each sentence of your message separately. He prefers writing chunks full of information, all with perfect grammar and punctuation.

You teach him what ‘wtf’ means and when he sends a meme to Penelope with that caption she loses her damn mind.

She decides she loves you there and then.

A friendship blossoms. It’s odd, he doesn’t know what you look like and you admit to catching a glimpse of him when he showed you his number through the window, but other than that you have no idea what the other looks like.

You know so much about eachother’s lives, though, and so much about eachother. You know which apartment you both live in, he’s got a whole list of reasons why Mr Darcy is a dick and he kind of agrees, you even know that he’s an FBI agent.

Then it happens.

He discovers what you look like.

He wants to play it off as an accident, he really does, but that would be a complete and utter lie.

The area under the window opposite yours has become his new sanctuary. He spends way too much time there, reading and whatnot, and he tries to pretend that it’s so he can watch Mr Darcy all day every day, but there’s always been a part of him that wants you to walk by. Maybe stop right in the centre of the window, pause, let him get a good look.

That’s exactly what happens.

He’s doing some “light” reading before he moves to his bed, where he will continue to read, and he sees the main light in your bedroom switch on. You always have a light on – you’re scared of the dark, just like him, but the main light catches his attention because Mr Darcy looks back and meows.

Someone’s in the room.

For some reason, he can’t tear his eyes away. It’s not the first time he’s noticed someone flutter around the room, never managing to really show themselves. It could the best friend you told Spencer about, the one that you’ve been stuck living with the past month or so.

But it’s not.

A girl appears, wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts with still-wet hair. She dangles a cat toy before Mr Darcy, which he swipes at twice, then looks away, uninterested.

She rolls her eyes at that, then starts dancing and mouthing along to a song Spencer doesn’t recognise. Now he can’t stop staring – she’s captivating, whoever she is, as she prances around her room, arms flailing around and serenading a very unimpressed Mr Darcy.

This has to be you, he thinks. He doesn’t know why, but this has to be you.

Your passionate singing dies out. It’s the end of the song. Before the next one can begin, you happen to look up and through the window, straight at Spencer.

And you disappear.

You collapse. You definitely scream a little, dramatically falling to the floor and hiding under the window with your back to the wall.

Holy shit. You think. He’s cute and he saw me singing to my asshole cat.

He must think I’m crazy.

Spencer keeps staring at the now empty space of your window, Mr Darcy having been spooked by your exit.

He thinks he might be in love.

+++

Neither of you know what to say to one another after what transpired.

You’re too embarrassed, Spencer feels a little star-struck, and you’re both speechless.

Neither of you expected the other to be so.. attractive.

Your phone is thrown in your lap. “Do it. Do it now.”

In a daze, you blink up at your friend, “I can’t.”

“Don’t make me threaten you.”

You blink.

“I know where he lives. I will obliterate the lockdown rules to go talk to him and drag him here, then you can deal with this face-to-face.”

Your mouth falls open. “Are you insane?”

She unlocks your phone, opens your conversation with Spencer, and places it in your hand.

“Yes.”

+++

[From: Y/N :)]: did you at least enjoy the performance…..

Spencer’s whole body prickles when he sees you’ve texted him.

Maybe Penelope’s manifesting did work.

[To: Y/N :)]: I did. I didn’t expect our face reveals to be so…

I honestly don’t know what to say.

[From: Y/N :)]: s doctor reid speechless? am i that talented?

Spencer lies back on his couch, beaming at his phone like a teenager in a cheesy chick flick.

[To: Y/N :)]: You’re very talented. Mr Darcy clearly disagrees, but don’t listen to him.

And just like that, you’re back in the flow of things.

+++

When July rolls around, you and Spencer have been talking every day since March. Despite the monotonous, repetitive days, Spencer wakes up giddy when he sees you’ve texted him. He usually wakes up earlier than you, you have a habit of playing games or watching television until the early hours of the morning, and he loves to send you a fact to wake up to.

Your favourite are the animal facts. He got Amazon Prime just so he could buy a plethora of animal books and watch animal documentaries. All for you.

At one point, you evolved to phone calls. They don’t happen often and the first one was while you were drunk, but they’re fun for the both of you.

It had been a Saturday, you and your friend were having a movie marathon with wine and of course she brought up Spencer. She choked on her drink when you told her you haven’t heard his voice or seen him since the incident.

“You should call him,” She slurred, “Tonight.”

“He’s working on his jigsaw. I’m not going to interrupt.”

She gave you this incredulous look, asking Really?

“What?! I have respect for him and his jigsaws!”

“Have respect for yourself and how cute he is!”

“That doesn’t make sense!”

She sighed, placing her glass on the coffee table with a clunk, “Picture this: you’re helping him with the jigsaw.”

You couldn’t hide the slight upturn of your lips at the thought. You both love jigsaws, doing one with him would be stupidly romantic to you.

“Yeah.” She nodded ridiculously, “That ain’t gonna happen if you don’t call him!”

In your drunken state, you realised she’s right. You called him that night for a total of ten minutes before you passed out after calling him super handsome.

You both went to sleep feeling warm inside. Spencer called you again the next day, where the call lasted nearly two hours, and it went from there.

But now the lockdown rules are being eased. People are going back to work, meaning establishments like restaurants and hairdressers are opening up with limited capacity, all breathing beings expected to wear a mask.

Neither of you have mentioned actually meeting one another. You’re too nervous. What if he doesn’t like you? What if the image he’s created of you in his head is way better than you are in real life and he’s disappointed? What if he doesn’t want to meet you?

Spencer worries about the exact same things.

So neither of you say anything.

+++

It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes Spencer’s mail gets sent to the wrong address. Perhaps to his neighbour, the person living across the hall, or someone on a completely different floor.

Twice, Spencer’s mail has been delivered to the apartment building next door. The building he now exclusively calls “Y/N’s building”.

Now it’s three times.

Unphased by the mask on his face, Spencer glances around the lobby of your apartment building and wonders what your routine is when you get home. Do you immediately check for packages? Look at the noticeboard? Or do you go straight up to your apartment?

Spencer walks to the reception desk, smiling politely even though the person can’t see it.

“Hi, I’m from the building next door. I think my mail was accidentally sent here?”

He clicks a few buttons, types a few things, then flippantly asks, “Apartment number?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Let me go get it.”

He takes his time leaving his chair and wandering through a door. Spencer glances around. There’s a few people, all wearing masks (Thank God), doing their own thing.

There’s two girls next to him. He eavesdrops, because he’s bored.

“I’m too used to living with you now,” The girl facing him pouts, “I don’t want to go.”

The girl with her back to him laughs, light and sweet, “You live a block away.”

“You know Sally is gonna miss me.”

Sally? As in…

“She’s gonna miss you only because you feed her too much and now she’s fat.”

Wait.

“C’mon, Y/N-“

Spencer blocks out the rest cause holy hell. You’re right there. You’re standing right next to Spencer, in all your glory, and you have no idea that he’s right there, too.

Should he say something? Should he introduce himself? Should he..

“Here, sir. My apologies for the mix-up.” The receptionist re-appears, handing Spencer his mail.

“Thank you.”

And Spencer leaves.

Except he doesn’t.

He stops outside the reception entrance, takes out his phone, and texts you.

[To: Y/N :)] This is weird but I’m right outside your building. I think you’re in the foyer and I’m too scared to approach you.

Two minutes pass before the building doors fly open.

Your head swivels back and forth. When you find Spencer, adorable and awkward Spencer, he can tell you’re grinning from the way your eyes bunch up under your mask. God, he knows you have the most beautiful smile. Everything about you is beautiful.

“Hi,” You breathe.

Spencer mouths a silent hi. You’ve taken his breath away.

“I-um. It’s good to see you in person.” Your voice is soft. It’s soft, and smooth, and so much prettier in real life. It’s already pretty through the phone, but the real version shoots straight to his heart.

He gulps, “Yeah, it’s.. Unexpected, but nice.” The corners of his mouth quirk up and he can’t tear his eyes away from you, “You’re even more gorgeous in real life.”

The compliment rolls off his tongue naturally because it’s true and from the second he spotted you he’s lost all logical thinking.

“I am?” You ask, gentle and hesitant, almost asking are you sure you mean me?

Spencer blushes, somewhat embarrassed by his confession. But he meant it, Spencer’s not the type to say things he doesn’t mean, and you don’t give him time to regret it-

“Would you like to get some coffee? If you’re free now?”

Would it be too much if he screams Yes?

“Yes. I’m free,” He ignores the mail in his hands, stuffing it in his satchel, “But let’s avoid Café Nero, I assume you still haven’t recovered from the nightmare latte you had there.”

You grin, which makes Spencer feel fuzzy, flattered that he remembers anecdotes from your texts.

Of course he remembers. You remember he has an eidetic memory.

You shyly brush your hair behind your ears, both sides, and Spencer spots the bright red of them. You’re flushed, just like him, and it fills him with confidence to know you’re the same mixture of excited and anxious about meeting him in person.

“W-what about your friend?” Spencer gestures vaguely to where he assumes she’d be, “Would she mind?”

“She’s the reason I ran out here, so… I think she’d be mad if we didn’t leave her behind.”

You smile at one another, a few feet apart. Spencer’s bumped into by the opening door of your apartment complex and stumbles, apologising profusely to the unimpressed woman that just stares at him.

Through the entire ordeal you watch Spencer, only him, and can’t stop the radiant, love-filled look on your face.

Maybe Mr Darcy isn’t such a dick when he’s the reason Spencer came into your life.

[sierraraeck]

Happier

Spencer x Fem!Reader

Spencer x Luke

Masterlist

Summary: Things have been slowly declining in you and Spencer’s relationship. Going out to a bar alone one night, you figure out why.

Category: Angst.

Warnings: Brief mention of alcohol

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: This was inspired by the song “Happier” by Marshmellow and Bastille. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too.

In the cold light of day we’re a flame in the wind

Not the fire that we’ve begun

But we ran our course, we pretended we’re okay

‘Cause with all that has happened

I think that we both know the way that this story ends

You met Spencer at a bookstore. He was a regular, but it was the first time you actually interacted. He was carrying enough books to nearly block his vision, and when he no-so-gracefully plopped them down at the register in front of you, the whole pile came toppling down. You watched in amusement as he collected three of the books from the floor and placed them back down on the desk, now ready to check out.

“You know, we provide baskets at the front for this reason,” you smirked.

He barely glanced up at you, and shyly said, “Do you know how many germs are on those things?”

You laughed, “I’m not sure I’d like to know.”

He quickly raised his eyebrows at you. “I wish I didn’t.”

You checked out the rest of his books in silence, then wished him a good day on his way out.

The next week, he was back in, and grabbed the same outrageous amount of books, dropping them on his way to you.

“Back so soon?” you questioned, remembering who he was quite well.

“I needed some new reading material,” he shrugged. You cocked an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“The last thirteen books weren’t enough?”

“I finished them,” he nonchalantly stated.

“You’re kidding.” He shook his head. “Jeez. Is the only thing you do read all day?”

“No,” he innocently responded, “I only need a few minutes to read each. I’m actually an FBI agent.”

You stared at him blankly. That was not what you expected. “Wait, what? You’re an FBI agent, and you can read hundreds of pages in only minutes?”

He nodded as if there was nothing impressive about either of those. You were still shocked and mumbled, “Okay, wow.”

The third time he came in, you noticed that he was waiting until your register was free, so that you specifically could check him out. You had a bit more small talk, this time about some of the books he’d read. The fourth time he came in, you left some disinfectant wipes by the baskets, knowing that he really should use one, and wanted the germaphobe in him to feel comfortable taking one. He looked over at you and you smiled at him while he wiped down one of the baskets to use. It was that time while you were checking him out that he asked you on a date. You, of course, said yes. You wanted to know more about this mysterious, handsome man that worked for the FBI and could read an insane amount of books in only a short period of time.

Things were great at the beginning. You got to know each other, and the more you found out about him, the more and more you liked him. The two of you started spending almost all of your free time together, and you were considering asking about moving in together.

That is, until he started pulling away.

You weren’t sure what had gone wrong. Things were great, and then it seemed like one day he went to work interested in you and came home distant. Like his mind was elsewhere. You tried to ask him about it, but he deflected every time. He used to never like going out with his team, but he slowly started spending more time with them, and less time with you. You hinted at wanting to meet his team, and hoped that he’d introduce you to them soon, but with every passing day you grew more doubtful.

You’d been anticipating a break up for a while now, but you just didn’t think it’d be you who did it.

Spencer was out with his team again. He’d only briefly talked about them, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was one of his team members that was holding his attention. Maybe that JJ or Emily person, you thought.

You were tired of being left home alone, and were feeling even more down than usual, so you decided to go out by yourself. If Spencer wasn’t going to have fun with you, you could have fun with you.

You pushed open the door to the bar on the corner of the street, but stopped in your tracks when you saw Spencer, and the group of people around him you quickly put together was his team. You scooted out of the entryway, and just stood there watching them. You felt sort of creepy doing it, but it might’ve been the only time you could see Spencer when he wasn’t around you. Maybe it would tell you something.

What you saw felt like a spear to the chest. Spencer was smiling. He was laughing. God, you missed hearing that laugh, seeing that smile. It’d been so long since he’d done either, and that’s when you realized the full weight of how unhappy Spencer must be with you.

Sure, he’d been pulling away, but the process was so gradual that seeing the stark contrast of him with his team versus him with you was blinding. It was like the universe was throwing it in your face just to mock you. It was painful.

The thing that really got you, though, was the way he was looking at one of his teammates. It wasn’t one of the pretty blondes, or either of the jaw-dropping brunettes, but it was the dashing man next to him. You’d seen those eyes before, the ones Spencer was giving him. He looked at you that way once, but not at all recently.

You felt ashamed for it, but your initial reaction was resentment. You hated the very attractive man with deep brown eyes and a little scruff that you’d never met. He was the reason that your Spencer was drifting from you.

But that’s the thing. He wasn’t ‘your’ Spencer. He was just a cute, shy, germaphobic guy that you met at a bookstore. And based on the way that he was looking at his teammate, you wondered if maybe Spencer hadn’t been ‘yours’ for a while now.

Unbeknownst to you, you’d started tearing up, and only noticed it when some of the people around you started giving you strange looks. You furiously wiped at your face, and took a few deep breaths. At that moment, you decided to leave, to calm yourself down for the rest of the night and confront him about it tomorrow.

You were nearly out the door when you heard that oh-so-familiar voice call out, “Hey, Y/N!” You turned to see Spencer slightly jogging towards you, “What are you doing here?”

You experienced forever in a moment, hundreds of thoughts swarming your mind in an instant: I’m here because he never wants to spend time with me anymore and I was going to drown my feelings in alcohol; It doesn’t matter why I’m here because now I know what’s been going on between us; I can’t stay with him; but I love him; maybe we can make it work; he’s clearly unhappy with me and I’ve known it for a long time; the way he looks at his coworker is the way I want him to look at me; can I ever make him look at me like that again; what did I do wrong; this is that man’s fault; this is Spencer’s fault; this is my fault; maybe I’m just not good enough for him; why am I not good enough for him; god I think I might cry again; no I need to pull myself together, that’d be embarrassing; I wish I was good enough so I could see him smile and hear him laugh like that again; that man made him smile like that and laugh like that, something I haven’t been able to do in a long time; he doesn’t love me; he loves him; I love him; I want him to be happy, he deserves to be happy; I deserve to be happy; I want him to be happier than he is with me; I want him to be as happy as he is with that man all the time; I want that happiness to be with me, but it’s not; I want him to be happier.

We shouldn’t do this anymore.

It’s not that you couldn’t do it anymore, you wanted nothing more than to keep fighting for the two of you, but you had the astonishing thought that you just shouldn’t. I wouldn’t be fair for you to keep Spencer from the man he truly wanted, and it wasn’t fair to yourself to continue in this relationship.

In the blink of an eye, you heard yourself speak the words you never thought you would, words you couldn’t even believe you were saying out loud, right now, to the man you just realized you loved. “I’m breaking up with you.” You felt tears rising to the surface, but you swallowed them down. This is for the best.

Spencer looked beyond shocked, like he surly hadn’t heard you correctly. “What? Why?”

You gave him a sad smile, “Spence, this is the first time I’ve seen you happy, like really truly happy. And you know what? It’s not with me.”

This just confused him further. “I don’t…” he trailed off.

You gestured toward the strong-jawed man who was trying, and failing, to not-so-subtly look your guys’ way. “It’s with him.”

Spencer followed your gaze, and offered a small, confused laugh. “Who, Luke? No, we’re just-”

“I swear to god, if you finish that sentence with ‘just friends’ I will slap you across the face,” you cut him off. Spencer gave you a slightly startled look, so you lowered your voice to a more calming one. “Look, you should be with him, okay? You actually want to spend time with him and you’re smiling which I feel like I haven’t seen you do in months.”

Spencer was shaking his head. “Y/N, I can try harder, we can-”

You held up your hand to stop him. “I don’t want you to have to try. No one should have to try that hard to keep this going. It should be easy, effortless, which is what you’re getting from someone else. So no, we can’t and more than that, I don’t want to.” You felt almost as surprised as Spencer looked from your words. They were true, from the depths of your soul you felt how true your words were, and couldn’t believe that you were finally admitting that.

Spencer’s voice was small when he asked, “Why?”

You heard the double meaning behind the question, and answered with the first thing that came to mind. “Because I love you.” You realized it was the first, last, and only time you’d get to say that. “And that’s why I want you to be happy, even if it isn’t with me.”

Spencer was about to respond when a high pitched voice, sounding slightly drunk and a little bit annoyed, yelled across the room, “Yeah, new guy!” You saw the tall man approaching the two of you, and it all kinda clicked into place. New guy. So when it felt like one day Spencer woke up loving me, and came home distracted, that wasn’t too far off. He went to work that day, which was probably the same day that ‘new guy’ started working with him. It all started slowly making sense in your head.

‘New guy,’ Luke, walked up to the two of you, standing shoulder to shoulder with Spencer, and cautiously started, “Hey, what’s going on here?”

Looking at the man before you, you hated to admit it, but your anger diminished a little, and your jealousy grew. He was a very attractive man, full, strong build, piercing eyes, gentle face, and about the same height as Spencer.

You gave Spencer a pointed look about the proximity in which they were standing, especially when the other man’s shoulder brushed up against his. Spencer wasn’t a touchy person, but he actually seemed to relax in the other man’s presence. That spoke volumes.

You knew this Luke guy was also a profiler, so he could probably sense the tension, granted anyone probably could’ve. He quickly looked at Spencer before directing his attention back to you. “Can we help you with something?”

You wanted to scoff, or laugh, or vomit. Maybe all three at the same time. Can we help you with something? Clearly Spencer had never told any of them about you, and you couldn’t help but smile, with just a hint of bitterness, at his immediate use of ‘we.’ As if you were a threat that he needed to help Spencer defuse. But you also smiled because you were right. Again, it didn’t take a profiler to spot the very different tension between the two of them.

You shook your head, looking more at Spencer than at the other man, “No, I don’t think so. Not anymore.” There was no malice in your voice, only sadness, with just a dash of exhaustion. Who knew that pretending like your relationship wasn’t sinking took so much effort?

Spencer gave Luke a tight smile, “Just give us a minute?”

He wearily nodded, but backed away from the two of you. You sighed, “Look, he seems like a good guy and clearly already loves you in some capacity, and you know what?” You half-joked, “If he does something stupid you give me his number and I’ll give him a call.”

This earned a small laugh from Spencer, which made you want to both smile and cry. Of course, it was only after you’d broken up that you could get him to laugh. You settled for a small smile, and an immediate awkwardness settled over the two of you.

You made the first move, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. With a comforting hand on his shoulder, you looked into his sad eyes, and whispered, “Bye, Spencer.”

Those were the last words you exchanged, and you walked out of that bar without another look back.

You were letting him go.

You were setting him free.

Then only for a minute

I want to change my mind

‘Cause this just don’t feel right to me

I wanna raise your spirits

I want to see you smile but

Know that means I’ll have to leave

So I’ll go

[it-was-summer]

Video Killed the Radio Star- Chapter 8 (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hello!!! After a very very very long hiatus, school is over and I am ready to write again. I'm sorry for dropping off the face of the earth, but I did indeed get burnt out this semester and I just needed some time to recover. I also got sick with COVID-19, so I'm sorry that chapter 8 took so long to write. As regards to the things in my ask box, I will be answering them as soon as I post this chapter today. I will be working over the Summer, but I promise to write over the Summer. Thank you all for being kind and I hope that this chapter or two nerds being nerds makes up for some of it... a little at least? Also the text will be italicized

Warnings: One? Curse word? Fluff and texting?

Plot: Spencer and you fight against all judgement and ignore the growing feelings the two of you have for each other. Spencer sends you a text.

Word Count: 2.1K

Spencer had come and gone, and now your couch carried the faint smell of peppermint and old books. The moon peered through your living room window as you poured steaming water into a mug, the smell of peppermint making your stomach flip pleasantly. Your mind wandered dangerously, thinking about how sweet Spencer’s laugh sounded when you nitpicked something the Doctor had said.

Thinking about how he stood in front of your bookcase and how bright his smile became seeing The Nightingale and the Rose amongst the masses, his fingers brushing the spine for a second before he let out a soft ‘oh’. You shook your head from side to side gently, trying to shake the recent memories from your brain as you took a short sip of your tea.

You couldn’t help but feel dirty thinking about Spencer. If you were just thinking about him you would’ve felt better, but you weren’t thinking about Spencer necessarily. You were thinking about how soft his hands felt in the split second the two of you reached for the remote. You were thinking about how he used that same hand to push back his hair from his eyes, how the dying sunlight outside reached his eyes, and how he looked when he lingered for a second too long at the door.

That wasn’t right. You weren’t supposed to think about him like that, you didn’t want to. Every lingering thought was shoved into the back of your mind in a forceful act of rebellion. You needed to remain grounded, you couldn’t let yourself get carried away. He was your friend and he was going to remain your friend, just a friend.

The peppermint tea felt thick as it went down your throat, a soft chime bringing you back to reality. Your hand shot over to your phone, feeling desperate for any kind of distraction. Your mother had texted you a simple ‘Hi’ and you felt your shoulders relax instantly. You hit the call button.

___

Spencer stood in the middle of a park, he wasn’t there for a case or to play chess, he was just there-- sitting on a red blanket. His head raised to the sky as a breeze shook through his hair sweetly. He heard a gentle and familiar laugh beside him, his head snapping away from the blue sky to look at you. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing,”

Spencer frowned, sitting up on his elbows, eyes locked onto yours, silently interrogating you. You waved him off with a smile, “Fine,” you said, leaning your head into the palm of your hand. “I never get to see you like this, so free.”

“I’m always free, thank you very much,” Spencer taunted uncharacteristically as he felt your hand shove into his shoulder with a gentle jab.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” soft wind blew your hair into your face and Spencer could already feel his hand moving to push the hair out of your eyes, “You’re always worrying about work or a case or something else, sometimes it feels like you’re running a thousand miles a minute and I can’t catch up, but sometimes it’s nice to just see you be still for a while.”

Spencer felt pleasant shivers pass through his spine, opening up his mouth to whisper something sweet to say to you, but the words never got the chance to leave his throat as he woke up in his dark bedroom.

His eyelids fluttered gently, begging him to fall back asleep against his will. Spencer forced his eyes open, turning his head to the side to look at the time glowing on the digital clock that sat upon his nightstand. Four in the morning.

Spencer felt his face grow warm as he laid awake in bed, thinking about you. Your laugh, your smile, your eyes, your hands. Spencer didn’t like to touch people, being a slight germaphobe, he tried to avoid touching other people as much as possible. So why was he so comfortable with it in a dream? He didn’t believe that dreams reflected the subconscious, but sometimes he ignored that gnawing feeling inside his brain and believed in dream analysis.

This was one of those times. He knew that if he mentioned anything to Derek, he would make fun of him, and then he would tell Penelope and then everyone would know. So maybe this was something he was going to keep to himself. He wordlessly decided that he wouldn’t tell anyone, it felt wrong to tell anyone. You were hurting. Recovering.

Besides, if he said something-- if he reacted to it, wouldn’t that make this feeling grow? He bit his lip, rolled over on his other side, closed his eyes, and tried to resume the dream he had just woken up from.

__

A lump filled Spencer’s throat as he stepped through the elevator, coffee’s in hand. He wasn’t the best at lying about things and he worked with profilers. Literal people that could look at him and dissect his brain without him saying a word. Usually, he had the upper hand, usually, he didn’t feel so different. He had no reason to feel so strange, he was just happy, was it so strange that he felt happy? When Prentiss’s eyes fell on him, he decided yes.

The team didn’t always say something when they noticed something was off with Spencer, but most of the time they made a habit to say some teasing remark in passing. Spencer wasn’t sensitive, nor was he immune to throwing out some special one-liners of his own, he was just skittish about receiving them.

“Spencer,” Emily’s voice cut through the room, snapping Spencer’s head up from his coffee. “You seem,” she paused “Weird.”

“Weird? Reid?” Derek chuckled softly, eyes meeting Spencer’s for a quick second.

“Yep, always weird.”

“Yeah, okay, he’s being weird,”

Spencer took a long sip of his coffee, his fingertips gripping the cup a little tighter in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. He had no reason to feel weird, no reason at all. It’s not like his dream was real. It had just been so long since Spencer had liked someone as much as he liked you. That wasn’t the right way to think about it; he simply had a crush on you. That was all it was, a crush.

“I just had a good night,” he muttered nervously into the lid of his cup.

“Yeah, with a cute little miss thing that lives in Richmond.”

“Richmond?” mused Emily with a smile.

Spencer frowned at Derek, “Who even told you that? Was it Penelope, because she told me she wouldn’t tell,”

“When she says that, she means she won’t tell Hotch, but she’ll most likely always tell me.”

Emily waved her hand from side to side, “Wait go back,” she pointed at Spencer “Did you have a date yesterday?”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“No, it wasn’t a date. It was coffee. We drank coffee and talked.” Spencer argued quickly, making him seem guilty in a matter of seconds.

“Can she even do anything with that boot on?” Emily teased, earning a laugh from Derek.

“Come on, Prentiss. Reid only makes moves on girls in the middle of a case, not after.”

“That was once!”

“So you made a move on her then?” Emily implored gently, letting the interrogative teasing be cut short.

“No, we went back to her apartment to watch a show, and then I went home,” Spencer answered, trying to let his nerves settle down, when he said it out loud it sounded like it was nothing. It sounded silly. Derek and Emily shot each other a glance, shared a smile, and then both mouthed a simple ‘okay’, before going their separate ways.

Spencer knew that Emily was probably running over to whisper something to Rossi or J.J and Derek was probably heading over to Penelope to tell her what just happened. He could care less, he needed to work, and they all needed to work judging by the way Hotch walked into his office.

__

You had woken up near noon to a text that simply read; Hello.(: It was short, sweet, and from Spencer. To be fair, he had mentioned that he wasn’t the best with texting people, so the fact that he sent you a text said something.

You didn’t want to seem too eager as you texted Hey, did you have lunch yet?

You set the phone down, trying to get over the initial feeling of embarrassment that caused your cheeks to flush, remembering in a second that you were a nerd. You couldn’t text people for shit and as you stared at the message you had just sent Spencer it showed.

You sat up, sliding off to the edge of the bed, hand reaching for the phone as another chime made your heart burst. No, I spent lunch on a plane to Georgia.

Georgia?

Chime.

We got another case and the whole team is running on coffee.

Eat something soon.

Chime.

Can’t ignore a demand like that.

Good, don’t.

Chime.

Text me later?

Absolutely (:

You pressed your lips together, fighting back the growing smile on your lips as you left your phone on your bed, today already seemed promising.

Being out yesterday made you realize how much you missed being outside, the only downside was it took forever for you to get anywhere. So, you called your mom out for lunch. You found the slow walking easier to deal with when you were talking to someone else and she was worried about you, so it was a win-win.

The restaurant was crowded, crowded areas usually made you feel nervous like you were being watched. Being watched wasn’t so bad, being kidnapped was worse, and being physically abused was worse than being kidnapped. So you could deal with some crowds.

Certain things kept catching you by surprise, like the way slow-moving cars rolling down the street made you tense up, and the way you clenched your jaw as the waitress’s name tag shined ‘Heather’.

Your mother was kind enough to reach over the table to hold your hand in hers, a smile brightening her eyes effortlessly, “You look lovely today,”

You let out a small sigh and shrugged “I had a good morning,”

“Really?” she repeated, smile growing wider.

“Yeah,” you squeezed her hand gently “I went out for coffee yesterday with Spencer, too.”

“The F.B.I agent, Spencer?” You nodded quickly, hand leaving hers as you looked through the menu. “Was this a date?”

“Mom,” your eyes peered up at her, lips turned down into a gentle frown “I just went through something very traumatic, I don’t think it was a date.”

“What was it then?”

“A friend, being nice to another friend.” You replied quickly, trying to move your focus back onto the menu in your hands. You heard a small sound from your mother that reassembled an ‘okay’ before she went silent, but you could tell she was burning with questions.

You didn’t blame her, you never got out much but when you did, she was the first one to know. You had mentioned over the phone last night that the two of you were friends and he was helping you through so of the tougher things that recovery involved, but she seemed to ignore that then. You had yet to mention the addictive tendencies you were feeling, the yearning for a release, an outlet of some kind. You knew it would break her heart, so you kept quiet.

“I like him,”

“Mom,” you scolded with a smile, setting down the menu. “You met him once.”

“And he made a good impression,”

“You left the room!”

“I can read body language,”

“Okay, mom,” You scoffed as you took a sip of your water.

“All I’m saying is,” she put her hands together “Recovering doesn’t mean you have to ignore every opportunity that comes your way because you don’t think it’s the right time.” She met your eyes and let out a tiny laugh, “I know you and you won’t let anything happen if you feel like it’s not the right time, sometimes it’s not a bad thing to let things happen. Romantic things or otherwise.”

You opened your mouth to say something but instead, you let out a tiny sigh, nodding slowly. She didn’t need to know how miserable the night made you, how suffocating a day alone was for you, so you nodded. After all, maybe she was right, she was your mother.

[lazy-bird-fanfics]

Company - Spencer Reid x Reader

Spencer Read x Reader - one shot - fluff 

Sort based off this tiktok 

 -not my gif- 

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

Spencer was known for being a germaphobe. He was also known for being incredibly clingy. In private. The truth was he wouldn’t shake just anyone’s hand, he had to get to know them first, it was like that with all forms of contact. He just felt uncomfortable making contact with those he didn’t know and felt connected to. It took you a long time to get to that point but you would never be caught complaining. 

You had known each other for two years when he first hugged you. Even then it wasn’t a full hug. You had spent many nights at each other's apartments, the guest taking the couch while the host slept on the floor watching old movies or playing chess or getting in vibrant discussions of authors and  books. He texted you on the jet returning from a case. 

Heading back, I’m thinking we watch The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari? 

I’m grocery shopping, If you beat me back the key is under the plant by my window, want anything from target? 

Sour patch kids? 

You got it Doc. 

You returned to your apartment to find Spencer going through your TV trying to find the movie. After a night of watching the movie, raving over the style, and eating candy you both fell asleep, you propped against the couch and Spencer sprawled on top of it. 

The next morning when he collected his things and made to leave, it happened. He thanked you, put his arm around the back of your shoulders and pulled you into his side. It was warm and cozy and you said nothing of it. 

The little side hugs continued on for a while. He always initiated it. Whether that was because you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable or because you didn’t want to feel rejection, you were never sure, but you never stuck your arm out to him. 

A while after the hugs began you noticed he would hold you in longer. 

Then he hugged you for real. 

The two of you had obviously grown very close and one day he was back to being really antsy. 

“What’s up Spencer?” You added the r to the end of his name remembering that he said JJ was the only one to call him Spence, is that how he wanted it or how it was? You didn’t know so you stuck to his full name when you weren’t calling him Doc. 

“You like Thai food.” Spencer said in a rush. 

“I- yes.” You responded, very confused. 

“Would you like to get Thai food? With me. Uh - Friday night. As a… as a uh - date?” He didn’t make eye contact as he asked. Rather he looked down tracing the patterns of your carpet with his eyes. 

“Yes.” You said it as confidently as you could trying to convey the message that Spencer shouldn’t be nervous with you. At your reply he looked up and smiled. 

“I’ll pick you up at 7?” 

“I will see you then.” 

And sure enough that Friday at 7 Spencer knocked on your door with a bouquet of lavender, baby’s-breath, and daisies, your favorite. 

“These are beautiful!” You gasped taking them from him. He took your hands in his and awkwardly pushed his arms between your arms and body leaning in. You took the hint and nearly jumped into his arms pulling him into a tight hug. To your shock he hugged just as tightly. 

The rest of the night was full of hand holding and comfortable, innocent, wholesome touching.  From that date on, it was not unusual to find Spencer holding your hand, playing with your hair, or leaning against your shoulder. 

About two months of your continued normal nights, spent sleeping a foot apart still, and cute dates, it became official  that you were dating. 

As to be expected things moved very slowly between the two of you. But no one was complaining. Spencer was happy and in his comfort-zone and you got to be close to such a beautiful mind and soul, if not physically, definitely emotionally, and that was so much better. 

With enough time, you began sleeping in the same bed when he was back from cases. But none of that would prepare you for the conversation you were about to have with him. 

“Spencer, I’ll be out in a minute.” He knocked on the door twice while you were using the bathroom, once while you were doing your business and the other while you were washing your hands. 

“Hurry!” he called through the door. 

“Why?” you were now drying off.  “Hurry!” He gave no reasoning. 

You opened the door and were met with a wall of cardigan. He had nearly swallowed you into a tight hug. 

“Is this why you were badgering me while I was in the bathroom?” You giggled. You heard him speak softly into your hair, words that sounded like hug and warmth. 

You helped make dinner with Spencer constantly squeezing your hand. He was in a very cuddly and clingy mood and you found it absolutely adorable. 

You could barely watch the movie that night due to Spencer essentially sitting on you. As the night grew later, Spencer realized he needed to shower. You were at his place so you made yourself cozy on the chair with your book and waited for him to finish up. 

“Y/N” Spencer’s voice rang out through the apartment. 

“Yeah, darlin?” You walked up to the door. 

“C’mere for a moment.” 

“Yeah…?” you asked hesitantly endearing the room. 

“Hi.” You heard his voice merrily reply. 

“Let me get this straight, you just wanted me in the bathroom?” You ask.

“Yes.” you can hear him smiling through his words. 

“So, I wouldn’t let you in the bathroom when I had to pee. But�� here I am in the bathroom while you’re showering.” You ask in a clarifying manner. 

“Cause Company!” Spencer whined. 

“Oh, yeah. Cause Company.” You felt flattered. 

“Yeah, it’s good.” 

“It’s good.” You smiled again. 

“Hold hands?” Spencer’s hand appeared at the top of the shower over the curtain. You giggled to yourself again and reached up and grabbed his hand. 

“That’s nice, I needed that.” Spencer said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before releasing you so he could rinse his hair. 

“Should I wait with my hand here for you?” You asked, giving your hand on the curtain a wiggle. 

“Oh, no, I mean you’re shorter and that’s a long time…” you could hear the disappointment and could tell Spencer wanted your hand but wanted you to be comfortable too. 

“What if… can I wait outside?” You asked with a grin, knowing he would say no and be offended at the thought. 

“What?! No?! Please.” You could hear the hurt in his voice. 

“Oh I’ll stay here.” 

“Yes. Bathroom Company.” 

“Bathroom company.” 

“I like when we’re in the same room.” You had to admit that made you a little sad, remembering he would mostly likely be whisked away on a case tomorrow. He was going to miss you and you him… that must be why he’s so clingy today, he knows that he will be going away. 

“Being in the same room is good.” you smiled again, unable to hold in your adoration for him. 

“I love you!” He said in a cheery voice. It wasn’t a first but it was not a common thing. 

“I love you!” you replied. Spencer’s face appeared out of the side of the curtain, which he was holding around himself to maintain his modesty, you hadn’t taken that step yet. His lips puckered up, eyes closed awaiting a kiss which you gladly gave him. To your shock one of his big wet hands came up and he rubbed it across your face getting you all wet before ducking back into the shower laughing at your little scream. 

“Spencer! I’m all wet now!” 

“Hey me too!” He said cheekily. 

This man would definitely be the death of you. You were already planning your revenge. 

[washymylifeaway]

Haikyuu SakuAtsu fanfic recs: series edition ;)

ALRIGHT LOVES, BUCKLE UP! IM FORCING MYSELF TO FIND MOTIVATION LOL

As I was making that cursed SakuAtsu fanfic rec post (it really is cursed, but it’ll get done eventually cause I do love the SakuAtsu too much, when tho? only god know LOL), I decided that if I’m gonna finish it, imma have to break it up. SO that’s why this is our lovely series edition post LOL. Originally, it WAS writers, tags, series, then single fics BUT I decided to scrap tags and even then I was like it’s too long..... And so, this post materialized LOL (mayhaps writers next? who knows anymore cause I certainly don’t LOL). These are ONLY some of the series that I absolutely adore, and I say some because 1) the tag is literally like 4k fics long and I was on like page 20 something and I have SO many tabs open rn for SakuAtsu, so chances are I missed one or five LOL :’((((( and 2) my ao3 account hasn’t been made yet (should’ve done this a looooooong time ago) and so I don’t have them all saved anywhere :( (these just sound like excuses LMFAO) So these are just the ones I saw and was like OOP I LOVE and then added LOL (and so they’re in no particular order hehe). I also didn’t *** any of them cause they’re all so freakin good and even if you randomly chose one, you will not be disappointed.

As per usual, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for series and each individual fic before reading and make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) Stay healthy loves <3

I would also be more careful cause there are a lot more TW in these fics than other ships!

Terminal Curiosity by favspacetwink, moonlumie (E) // CHECK WARINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES!!! this is one of the BEST series I’ve read for this ship and even though I tend not to read WIP, IT’S WORTH IT! Please read ALL the tags before going into any of the fics in this series because there’s some real spicy stuff that may not be your cup of tea!

your highs and lows by astroeulogy (T,M,E) // this fic made me go on a roller coaster of feels from start to (tentative) finish :))) It’s great and I love it AHHHHH The progression in their relationship is just so ajfkjsf, and I just adore how Atsumu just broke(?) during that first fic and the number of double takes he did, v relatable LOL.

Different Kinds of Dysfunctional by DeathBelle (T,E) // I LOVE the entrance to this fic and how it flowed so well. I think Atsumu is characterized really well throughout this series (I could totally see Atsumu bringing the same thing up over and over again LOL), and his development was done beautifully (You just want to make me say it.,,, Kinda, yeah.). I really freakin love this series so please go ahead and read it don’t be shy hehehe.

we call everything on the ice, "love" by awkwardedgeworth (T) // I LOVE this fic omg,,, it’s in series, but it’s only two fics LOL... Anyway, Notte Stellata is one of my favorite SakuAtsu fics and I have reread it way TOO many times and the fanpage fic IS SO AMAZING (AND FUNNY ASF PLS). I really love ice skating AU’s too so this really made this ‘series’ all the more better <333333

know you better & related stories by theglitterati (T,M,E) // this is definitely one of the best relationship development series I’ve read, I love it so much! It really touches all the bases, and the progression is just SO good. It really is the fic version of the get along shirt, extended edition LOL.

flutterbird (a collection of sakuatsu one-shots) by wordstruck (T,M,E) // this series is such an easy pick up because it’s a bunch of one-shots (esp. if you’re not into smut cause there is some), BUT all of them are def worth a read. Personally, the third one, the sakusa kiyoomi listography, is my favorite (cause imma sucker for Sakusa), but that’s just personal preference hehe :)

Atsumu + Sakusa + The National = ? by isaksara (syailendra) (T,M) // this is another stand alone fic series but with AUs :D I don’t even know like most (ie. all) of the references (LMFAO), but I still read all of them LOL. Again, a personal favorite (without any references LOL) is the second one, famous angels (never come through england), it’s really funny and good and I just love it okay?

Better For Us Both by abrandnewheart (M) // (this was CP from my angst fic rec post LOL tho it is slightly edited cause istg my writing style changes every post LOL) THE MUG FIC. There is a sequel and when I saw it, it took me another week to read it cause I was like,,, am I ready to have my heart break again? No LOL. But the sequel is actually not as angst (but there’s still angst), so if you want to be like semi-broken or whatever, just read the sequel LOL (also it’s Sakusa POV HEHE). It’s so sad and it made me physically hurt every time someone even mentioned mugs afterwards (LOL why am I so dramatic but it’s the truth :///). Go ahead and hurt with me. You should read it even if you don’t like angst because you know what they say, no pain no gain :’)

parallax error: angle of inclination by min_mintobe (T) // okay so technically this ‘isn’t a series’, but it is two fic that are related, and what is that if not A SERIES :DDDDD Anyway, I really love this fic enough that I would find loopholes in my own dang post to recommend it LOL. I really love the service ace bet between Sakusa and Atsumu (I do think it is a superior headcannon (it’s hc right?)) but I also love what’s left unsaid by both in each other’s POVs hehe. If you want to go straight to Sakusa’s POV (cause their different POVs of the same fic), here it is parallax error: line of sight. You can read either first, but I recommend you read both eventually :)

to make any other mistake by honeymilktea (rosevtea) (T) // I, myself, am a very big fan of college Haikyuu (tho idk if it seems like that LOL), and this fic is very much up my alley hehe. I really like the idea that they are both TA’s and that Atsumu would totally bribe Sakusa into fake dating him as well as Sakusa wearing his brightest outfits to spite Atsumu.

How Do You Know? by awkwardedgeworth (T) // these fics are both so funny omg. The google search histories, the trial and error, and just everything in these two fics gives me so much dopamine LOL. There’s one POV for both end of the ship, though their tragedies are slightly different.

the human disaster chronicles by firtree (G,T) // is this another Atsumu gay panic fic? Yes, yes it is and I have absolutely no shame in recommending it hehe. I realllllllly like this fic and Atsumu having a break down cause Sakusa didn’t follow his routine? It is the move. Anyway, pls read this series cause like the title suggests, it really is a disaster (but at least there’s love right? LOL).

I Love You (Though it's Inadvisable) by Anubis_2701 (T) // okay the series itself is a wip (as in only one fic for now LOL), but the fic is so good, I couldn’t leave it off :))))) First, I do love a good soulmate AU and although I’m not a big fan on the body switching AUs, THIS one was SO good!!! It gets really cheesy and fluff at the end, but the beginning of this fic was just so immaculate, that we’re gonna ignore how much the ending made me want to stick my head into a hole (cause it was so FLUFF OMG).

The Germaphobe and the Asshole by metaandpotatoes (T,E) // so this series is also actually a WIP, but it’s okay I only read the first and the last one anyway cause they’re basically stand alone’s LOL. This series focuses a lot on Sakusa’s mysophobia, so if you’re not a fan of the hc, you should prolly pass hehe. TBH, my favorite is the third one, Avoidance Behavior, but that’s mainly cause I really like SunaOsa and I love the brother bond in it!

you are the cause of my euphoria by SugarHighs (T) // ajsfljksadhjkdfk is my first thoughts while reading this series cause ATSUMU WOULD. He would start posting thirst trap pics (which really reminded me of Wonho) in order to prove he was the most good looking member of MSBY. Tho, we do love the clowning of one Sakusa Kiyoomi, as done in the third fic (PLEASE NUMBER 17 AND Cheezel). Even if you can’t get yourself to read the other fics, read the third one, 5 Ways To Tell If The Person You're Dating Is The One, for the free serotonin boost plsplspls.

'basis' - noun. the underlying foundation for an idea or process. by auvelli (T) // like I said, college AU is a great AU, love it. This one, I do love indeed. We do stan having microwaves and mini fridges hehe. I support the ramen endeavors but oatmeal is gross, I said what I said. Anyway, I love the tags in the second fic, so even if you don’t end up reading it, read the tags,,,, they’re funny okay?

and i press you to the pages of my heart by volchitsae (T) // I LOVE THIS ONE, teehee again the college AU makes another appearance LOL. I REALLY love this writer, and this one is so funny but cute at the same time. It’s another two POV fic, but you’ll want to read this one in order hehe. Again, the ending is so FLUFF, that my head wanted to take a visit to the underground BUT ITS OKAY.

affection and acid reflux by volchitsae (T) // so the first fic is ~angst~ but IT GETS BETTER OKAY, happy endings. HAPPY ENDINGS. Anyway, there’s some really cute Sakusa in this one (esp. when he talks to the boy at the village LOVE HIM) and a healthy amount of angst as well. I really like this fic and guess what it is? Say it with me, COLLEGE AU LOL.

how big the hourglass, how deep the sand by volchitsae (E) // did I just recommend the same writer three times in a row? Yup and I think that says something LOL (tbh I like some of their stand alone fics more tho LMFAO but that doesn’t mean these series are bad nononono not at ALL (this sounded sarcastic but that was not the intention LOL)). This one is ~magical~ (v literally) and has some kinky stuff (holy water ftw) in it, so tread carefully :) I would make sure to read the tags before each one because it gets kinda steamy LOL.

^^ if I had to choose between these three, I liked and i press you to the pages of my heart the most just cause the plot was my type LOL. But they’re all good hehe.

a study on you(th) and reverie by sieges (G,T) // this series is such a sad series :( The first two are the only SakuAtsu but the third one is an angst Osamu one so there’s that LOL (and ofc the fourth one is KuniYama (is that their ship name idk)) But the first one is a moving on fic (which I liked) and the second is like basically a fake break up (which I liked more LOL) and both have some nice shares of angst and fluff so choose your battles wisely (or just read both LOL).

Burden of Blame by DeathBelle (E) // CHECK WARINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES!!! ah yes, the mafia fic LOL. I REALLY LOVE THIS FIC. I felt so bad for Atsumu the entire fic and yes it is, ATSUMU BEST BOY time. Did I really just recommend this series AGAIN for the THIRD TIME in THREE SEPARATE POSTS? Apparently LMFAO I didn’t even know TBH LOL. I just really like this one,,,,,, okay? But pls Atsumu just here for the ride man cause he BEST BOY. Anyway, if you want to see my other comments of this fic that I forgot I did links here :D (links and here are two separate links to two separate posts LOL).

OKAY so that’s most of the series that I saw and was like gotta put this here LOL. And do you see how long this is (I know I’m missing so many series I like istg when I find them later imma cry or just make another post LOL).... Can you imagine how long my actual fic fic one is LOL (i’m not kidding tho it’s so long I might just do fics with their actual summaries instead of adding my invalid, piss poor reviews :/). Ugh the more I think about it, the more I lose motivation to finish LMFAO, so imma go be no thoughts head empty, but I hope you enjoyed reading these series! I love SakuAtsu SO much, so there’s lots more to come (is that good or bad idek). I know I was kinda lazy on the warnings (my bad), so I hope you all were attentive and made sure to check before reading! Also if there are any errors, send me a message/ask! PLS, they’re v embarrassing LOL. (Also tell me if I forget to cap my I’s bc I do that sometimes and I can’t tell cause of the font LMFAO.) The way my posts get slightly more chaotic every time I post LOL.

[doberbutts]

Hi! Wondering if I can take you up on the offer in that dysautonomia post.

I’ve been feeling randomly more tired than it feels like I should, but I think it’s not general deconditioning? Showers can wipe me out for a few hours and a shower chair is helpful - but I can walk for miles and afaict even a 5 mile hike drained my mental energy before obvious physical exhaustion (noticeably worse executive function and sensory/emotional tolerance but only normal muscle fatigue). Medically, been trying to sort out high hgb/hct that isn’t going down that much with T dose, and also night sweats at least a few times a week, and also I can be lying down to nap with my heart rate over 100 and it only comes down slowly. Can’t freaking tell what’s ptsd triggers, what’s other stress/anxiety, what’s maybe autistic burnout/sensory management taking much more energy than I expect, what’s needing to eat more consistently, what might be sleep issues, what’s effects of hormone levels, or what might be something else. I’m waiting for a sleep study to try to rule out sleep issues. I would really appreciate any pointers if any of this sounds like it might point a particular direction or if other tests might be useful.

Sadly that could be a lot of things, and I definitely think a sleep study is a good way to start. Making sure to manage your food and water intake, fixing your sleep schedule, taking care to be kind to yourself during episodes, those are a good place to start. No, I'm not saying that that will completely fix your problems, but any doctor that knows about POTS that does end up diagnosing you [if you have it] will tell you to do these things anyway. This is why I have been slowly attempting to unfuck my life.

If all of these things don't seem to be helping and the sleep study reveals nothing, the next thing I'd do is buy a cheap blood pressure monitor and see if you can have an actual record of your heart rate and blood pressure before, during, and after these episodes if possible. Something that records the output, or take a photo of the readings so you can show them to your doctor. Personally being a child of diabetics I also recommend buying a cheap glucose test kit to see if your sugar levels are doing anything funky during these times as well. Try to keep a journal of time of day, what you were doing just prior, and the readings you're acquiring to see if someone can point out a pattern.

A really easy way to see if there's a cause for pushing for specific testing is to go from seated to standing at your usual pace. If you are an otherwise healthy person and your heart rate jumps more than 30 bpm there is a pretty good indication that something interesting is happening inside of you that shouldn't be. If you also notice a big spike or drop in your blood pressure when initially standing or after standing still for a long period, that's another clue.

If you unfuck these areas of your life AND are getting concerning readings with little to no improvement on symptoms, it's time to look deeper. Most cardiologists will do a 24hr holtor, an EKG, a tilt table test, and/or a stress test, though the tilt table test is the one that really tends to seal the deal. However with some of your symptoms, I would honestly not be surprised to hear your doctors wanting the sleep study and probably an EEG to rule out things like sleep disorders or epilepsy as there can be some overlap.

It does take the average patient 8 years for a diagnosis- it took me less the first time around because of my family history, but the second time around took more like a year and a half due to comorbidities and I literally almost died. A friend of mine got really jerked around by her doctors for close to 6 months before someone was willing to run a tilt table test and almost instantly diagnosed her the second she fainted during the test. Another friend was told she was being a ridiculous germaphobe while her doctor ordered the test despite having a known dx of something commonly associated with POTS and again she was still diagnosed almost instantly during her tilt table. A third friend keeps getting 'hmm maybe' 'no' 'totally healthyl 'yes?' 'okay well that's weird' when he asks for a tilt table and they refused to give it to him despite picking up arrhythmias during his holtor and EKG- it's been a year and he's still arguing with the doctors to get a tilt table. Unfortunately many doctors simply aren't trained in autonomic disorders or in autoimmune disorders, and POTS is both. It can be very difficult to find someone willing to listen to you.

If you do all of these things and land on 🤷‍♂️, a lot of times it's things like fibro or MS, and the knowledge gained from these tests will help find a diagnosis of whatever-it-is affecting you.

[notmydayjob]

Requited

This is my manifesto of my love for criminal minds and the lovely Dr. Spencer Reid. Also I know some of the ages are a little fucked up but just suspend your disbelief for a second.

Summary: You grew up with Spencer but after meeting again years later due to one of Spencer’s cases you find yourselves rekindling an old friendship and maybe a little more.

Warnings: all the angst you’d expect from a CM episode, and sassy sexy Dr. Reid being adorable.

It’s been five, no- six years since you’ve seen him. You tried not to keep track but that was easier said than done. He was your best friend in Elementary and Highschool but as you both grew up you grew apart as well.

 You and Spencer were the most unlikely of friends as kids, the same age but nearly three grades apart. That of course was Spencer’s fault. You met in the third grade after your family moved to Nevada and Spencer was the only kid who was also sitting alone. After a while, you made more friends but none of them were as interesting as Spencer. He could read so fast and he knew so many things and sometimes you could even get him to recite books from beginning to end for you. He asked you things that you’d never really thought about like why the sky is blue or why the grass is green and when you said you didn’t know he’d explain it to you with big confusing words until you’d make him simplify it for you. You weren’t dumb but you weren’t Spencer, and part of you always knew he wouldn’t stick around. When you went to the fourth grade he went to fifth, spent two months there, and then went to sixth. You thought that would be the last time you saw him.

On your first day of Freshman year, you headed to the cafeteria with your friends and when you sat down and looked up you saw a kid your age, with long hair that curled at the ends, and big glasses, and was rapidly flipping through the pages of a book. One of your friends made a snarky comment and the other laughed but you stood up and quickly walked other to the boy, you honestly didn’t know why. Maybe it was because you hadn’t seen him since third grade or maybe it was because he had gotten so handsome in your time apart. 

“Spencer?” You said to the boy which made him shoot his head up in confusion. You waited for a second to see if he’d recognize you but after a moment of silence, you continued. “It’s (Y/n), we knew each other in elementary school.”

“Oh, yeah I remember. I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you.” He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and smiled up at you. Spencer didn’t really smile that much, not at people at least, but he always smiled at you. You sat down next to him, eager to get caught up. 

“I figured you’d be finished with college by now,” You joked which caused him to chuckle softly.

“Next year, I’m a senior now.” He recognized the apprehension in his voice. Even when you were little Spencer got teased a lot for being ahead you couldn’t even imagine what it was like now.                                         

“Are you even human?” You giggled. “What are you even reading that you haven’t read before?”

And so your friendship picked up again, exactly where it left off. Now instead of why the sky was blue, it was theoretical mathematics and physics.

The two of you spent the whole year together, you’d go to the library and he’d finish three books in the time you could finish chapter one, and still, if you were lucky you could get him to read to you. You were there when he got his acceptance letter from Caltech, he was so nervous when opening the email but he’d never admit it. Once you forced him to open the letter and you began to read it but by that time he had already finished it. 

“I got in.” He said almost too calmly. 

“What?” You gasped. He spun around in his swivel chair and looked up at you with a smile. 

“I got in!” He shot up and wrapped his arms around you. You were taken slightly aback at the physical contact. Spencer was a slight germaphobe but you still found opportunities to invade his personal space...respectfully.

And then again he left. The good news was Caltech was only a few hours away, you still saw each other on weekends, sometimes you’d come to visit his dorm and sometimes he’d come back home and visit you. You were also there when he had his mom hospitalized, you both knew it was the best thing to do but it was still hard for him to do. That was the first time you ever saw him cry, not when his dad left although you were sure that he did just never around you. Now Spencer cried, he tried to hide it from you but he couldn’t, you would wrap your arms around his waist and let him lean down to cry onto your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry.” He’d say to you after he had calmed himself.

“Why?” You asked as you ran your fingers through his long hair. 

“I never want you to see me weak.” He’d always say.

“You’re the strongest person I know.” 

As your senior year came to an end this time it was time for you to make the decision, stay, or go. Ultimately you stayed, applied to somewhere local, you didn’t want to admit that it was because Spence was close or because the town reminded you of him but you couldn’t deny it played a role. You hated Las Vegas, it was full of gamblers, pimps, and prostitutes and the heat was terrible. Sometimes Reid would take you to the Strip and you’d watch the people come and go, maybe that’s when he decided he wanted to be a profiler, you could sit there for hours and listen to him get all into people's business. Those were the memories you stayed for. 

Your third year was when Spencer left for Virginia, two Ph.D. 's in Math and Engineering, working on a third in Sociology and he chose to go to the FBI Academy. You were so proud of him but your heart broke to watch him get on that plane. You both cried when you said goodbye at the airport.

“I’ll call you every day.” He said, and for a while, he did but after that first night when you stayed up past midnight waiting for him to call but he never did. That was when you realized it would never be the same. You spoke to him every day, every week, every month, once a year, but now six years since he left and you haven’t even spoken to him in five. Until today.

“What the hell is happening?” You asked your boss as you saw a group of men and women going through the files in your office. 

“The Feds,” He nodded at the group on the other side of the windows. “They wanted information on a kid you used to work with...David...Dave… the last name started with an O I think.”

“Davies Ortega?” You knew exactly who he meant.

“Yeah, yes! They want everything you have on him, they have a warrant but you weren’t here-”

“Yeah well, I am now.” You sighed as you pushed through your colleagues who were watching with confusion.

“If you wanted to see my files you could have asked nicely.” You said as you came through the door. 

“Dr. L/n, I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner with the FBI, were you Davies Ortega’s psychiatrist?” A tall man with dark hair turned to you.

“Yes sir, I was.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “You have a warrant?” A dark-haired woman handed you the paper.

“You got something to hide?” A fit man with dark skin questioned.

“The Ortega’s are a rich white-collar family and the father is the DA, I’m protecting my practice.” You quipped back. “Your warrant says you have the right to the Ortega files and the files you’re going through aren’t those so if you’d please stop invading my client’s privacy I’ll show you what you’re looking for.” Each of them dropped the files they were holding.

“Thank you,” You said and then made your way to your desk, opening the locked cabinet beneath it and pulling out several thick files.

“That much?” The dark-haired woman said. You chuckled softly and then pulled out yet another stack of files.

“That much.” You corrected. 

“Ma’am we’re going to have to go through all of this and ask you a series of questions, I think it would be best if we did this at the police station… for privacy.” Agent Hotchner motioned to the crowd around your office. 

“I think that’d be best.” You agreed.

The ride to the police station was horribly quiet and incredibly awkward. Luckily though it was very short. You walked through the front doors following Hotchner, you caught a glimpse of Davis’s photo pinned to a board next to the photos of several women dead. You couldn’t make out too much because someone called out your name from behind you, not Dr. L/n but Y/n. You quickly turned to see a tall thin, brown-haired man with his hands awkwardly in his pockets, Spencer.

“Oh my god,” You smiled as you rushed towards him, standing up on your toes, practically jumping and wrapping your arms around him. He wrapped his arms around your waist in return and tucked his face into the crook of your neck.

“The two of you know each other.” An unfamiliar voice said from your left side. You and Spencer jumped apart like two teenagers caught together behind a closed door. 

“Uh, yeah,” Spencer spoke up. “We grew up together. We were uh… close.” 

“Close, huh?” The blonde-haired woman smirked.

“What are you doing here?” Spencer turned his attention back to you.

“Davies Ortega,” You said simply to gauge his reaction. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, that’s not good.

“You’re his doctor?”

“I was,” You nodded.

“Dr. L/n, we shouldn’t do this here, follow me.” You grinned at Spencer before following Hotchner to a small room with a table and mirror, you were sure it was a window from the other side. You were left alone to fiddle with your thumbs and try to work out what was happening. After about 15 minutes the door opened...and Reid came in.

“I’m surprised you’re allowed to talk to me.” You grinned, that probably didn’t look good because of the circumstances but you couldn’t help it.

“I spent the last ten minutes convincing them that you would tell any of us what we need, but you’d be more comfortable with me, wanna prove me right?” He cocked his head at you.

“Anything for my genius.” Although it had been five years it felt just like you’d been teenagers walking on the strip just yesterday. “You think Davies killed those girls, he’s your unsub.” Spence talked about this stuff all the time even when he was in college, you knew how this worked. 

“Yeah,” Spencer spoke softly and nodded. “That doesn’t surprise you?” 

“No,” You said hesitantly. “I know this is being recorded, will the parents see?” 

“No,” Spencer said, slightly confused. “Are you afraid of them?”

“I’m not afraid.” You said quickly and defensively and he raised his eyebrows at you. “ I told them that Davies needed to be institutionalized and they nearly got me fired. Rich people can do whatever they want no matter if their child is a total sexual sadist.” 

“Sexual sadist?” He repeated. “Do you really think he is or are you exaggerating?” 

“Oh come on Spence, you don’t need to do that.” You sighed. “I know he’s messed up, you know he’s messed up it doesn’t matter who says it doesn’t change that.” He chuckled slightly, he should have known he couldn’t pull anything without you knowing.

“Why did Davies come to see you?” Reid continued.

“He was adopted when he was six, removed from his birth mother’s custody for neglect. The Ortega’s adopted him not long after, he went from having nothing to anything he wanted, he began to act out and they couldn’t handle that. He killed the family cat too.” You explained. “Even they knew that was a warning sign.”

“Why’d he stop coming?”

“I suggested hospitalization, they didn’t like that so they found a new psychiatrist. No matter where they took him it was the same though. Eventually, they got him institutionalized just last year he turned eighteen and there was nothing they could do. With this kid, it was never a matter of if… it was when.”

“Alright, thank you, we’re gonna need to keep the files for now but you can go soon.” He sighed and stood up to leave.

“Wait, Spencer.” You stopped him. He turned to look at you and it nearly took the breath out of your lungs but you still continued. “You’re about to go to his house right?” He nodded.

“He used to write stories, they’re in my files, he wrote about killing but they all ended the same way. He said before they could take him he would kill as many officers he could before and then himself.”

Reid nodded slowly, understanding that was your way of telling him to be careful. You followed Reid out of the room and he told you to wait with the blonde-haired woman who would clear you to leave.

“My name’s J.J.” She offered you her hand. This wasn’t the introduction of an FBI agent but instead the introduction of a friend of a friend. “Wanna help me go through these files?”

You sat down with J.J. and helped her go through the files, every once and a while she’d ask you about Spencer.

“So were you ever...with… Spencer?” She asked with a hint of suggestion.

“No,” You chuckled. “I had a crush on him when we were teenagers but that was all.”

“Did he feel the same way?” She pushed a little further.

“Spencer is about as transparent as glass, I never got the feeling he did.” You tried to leave as much emotion out of your voice as possible. 

“If I’ve learned anything from working with Spencer it’s that he can lie if he has to.” She chuckled.

Not long after you saw Spencer, Hotchner, the agents whose names you learned were David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, and Derek Morgan. They were all rushing out, wearing blue FBI vests, and fully armed. Spencer walked over to you.

“Hotch and the Sheriff said you can go, what are the two of you up to?” He said as he looked at the messy table of papers.

“I’m just helping J.J. with the files.” 

“Well, we uh- gotta go.” He held out his last word, you knew he was just as worried he wouldn’t see you again as you were. “When we’re done… I’ll call you. I swear.” You just nodded and wrapped your arms around his waist before once again watching him leave.

“Doctor,” Hotchner called you. “You’re free to go,”

“Yes, sir I know…” You said apprehensively.

“But?” 

“I think I’d like to stay until you get back,” Maybe you wanted to know what would happen to Davies, maybe you wanted to make sure Reid was okay, either way, he didn’t ask, he just nodded and left.

You sat there with J.J. for an hour as the team checked out the house and confirmed Davies was inside. J.J. got a message on her radio that they were going in, you both sat quietly at the table holding your breath and waiting for more news. Ten minutes went by before you got the next message. 

Shots fired; Federal Officer down. 

J.J. clasped her hand over her mouth and put her other over yours reassuringly. 

Suspect has been injured and is in the ambulance but should make it. 

A small wave of relief washed over you but the words Officer down were still stuck in your head. After about half an hour people began filing into the station, Hotchner, Prentiss, Rossi, Morgan, and finally Reid.

You and J.J. let out a sigh of relief seeing the whole team alive and well. Reid smiled at you, clearly amused by the worry on your face. 

“You seem stressed.” He grinned.

“Oh shut up.” You smacked his chest before wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in it. “What about the officer?”

“SWAT got hit in the leg, he'll be fine.” 

“I was worried.” You finally admitted before pulling away. “So, when do you guys go home?” 

“Tomorrow morning, maybe tonight if Hotch is in a hurry.” He shrugged and you felt his demeanor change. “Y/n… I have to finish up here but afterward, would you want to… I don’t know, hang out?” His hands sat uncomfortably in his front pockets and his shoulders tense. 

“Yeah Spence, I’d like that.” You smiled up at him. 

“Cool,” He nodded with a proud and yet relieved smile on his face. “Meet me at The Strip...our spot, at 10 o’clock.”

“Of course Dr. Reid.”

“I’ll see you then Dr. L/n.”

The Strip was huge but you knew exactly where he wanted you to meet him, at the corner of the fountains facing the Ferris Wheel. By the time you got there at ten, you saw him leaning against the railing waiting for you.

“You got off early.” You said to alert him that you were there.

“Yeah,” He seemed relieved that you showed up. You stood next to him and leaned onto the railing as well. “I didn’t know you got your doctorate.” 

“Yeah, I got my masters and started working but did online courses for my doctorate while I was practicing.” Sometimes you got self-conscious talking about education with Spencer and he seemed to notice.

“That’s impressive.” He said genuinely.

“I never would have done it without you.” You shrugged off his compliment.

“Me?” He turned to face you, his attention now peaked.

“Yeah, I mean...yeah, you always used to talk about Dahmer and Gacy and how fucked up their childhoods were. It just wanted to stop it before it happened but clearly… that didn’t work.”

“Hey,” He placed his hand on your shoulder. Spencer shockingly hadn’t changed much in the six years you’d been apart. His hair was longer than it used to be and much messier and curlier, he dressed slightly different as well. As a teenager, Spencer rarely wore clothes that accommodated his tall but thin stature, and he never quite knew how to style his clothes. Now, his clothes fit well, his long sleeves were rolled up to reveal his forearms and he wore a black sweater vest and a dark blue tie. He looked mature and put together but at the same time, still kind of looked like his mom dressed him for the science fair. His socks still didn’t match.

“That’s not your fault Y/n,” He looked you in the eyes making sure you were really hearing him. “Like you said it was just a matter of when. I talk to these kinds of guys every day, they’re irrational.”

“Yeah… I know.” You sighed heavily. A silence hung in the air, neither of you wanting to talk about the events of the day but not knowing how to proceed.

“So you like Psychiatry?” He said with genuine interest.

“Yeah,” You said unconvincingly, causing him to raise his eyebrows like you. “Well, yes and no. My boss is a total pushover and my co-workers are dramatic and invasive. I like what I do but not necessarily where I do it.” 

“So what keeps you here?” He furrowed his eyebrows and leaned all of his weight on his right arm so that he could face you. 

“Honestly,” You sighed and looked around, trying to come up with the best answer. “Nothing.” I guess that was easier than expected. 

“What about your family?” 

“Everyone’s all spread out by now, retired in Florida, the woods in North Dakota, you name it.” 

“You hate it here, why have you stayed so long?” Spencer said, obviously confused now. He knew better than anyone that you should have gotten out of Vegas the second you turned 18. “Why did you even go to college here?” 

“Cause you were close.” You looked down at your hands, suddenly feeling how long it had been since you’d talked to him.

“You stayed because of me?” His voice softened and was nearly inaudible.

“Yeah, I guess I did.” You looked into the fountain, squinting at the lights shining in your eyes. “We have good memories here, I guess that’s why I stay.” 

When you finally looked back up at him he was already staring at you. You were tempted to dart your eyes away but you found it impossible to look away from him. And then faster than anything you’d ever experienced his hand was on the side of your face and lips were on yours. His hand was gentle on the soft skin of your face and it traveled slowly to the back of your neck desperately bringing you closer to him. Your hands rested on his chest, fingers digging into the coarse wool of his sweater in an attempt to keep him there. With one step towards you, he closed the gap between your bodies and pressed you against the railing. You arched your back, pushing your body against him to prevent you from bending back over the railing. Spencer’s other arm wrapped around your waist pulling you impossibly close to him. 

The kiss had started slow and unsure but once you reciprocated it became desperate and hungry for what both of you had been wanting since you were teenagers. Spencer’s tongue grazed against your bottom lip requesting entrance which you gladly gave him. Your tongues danced together, not a fight for dominance but a dance between two equals trying to explore every piece of their partner. Spencer’s teeth softly grazed against your bottom lip pulling it between his before he reluctantly pulled his face away from yours but still kept his body pressed against yours. Both of you stood there not daring to move away from each other as you gasped for breath. 

“I think I’m ready to leave.” You said between breaths. 

“And go where? Virginia?” Spencer was obviously kidding but the way you looked up at him to gauge his reaction showed that you were completely serious. “Oh, Y/n no, you can’t uproot your life for me.”

“Oh come on Spence!” You slipped out from under him getting space to gain some confidence in your argument. “I hate it here, it’s hot, the people are terrible, I’m ready to quit my job after today’s fiasco.” Spencer just shook his head and chuckled, you continued.

“Come on Spence I love the East Coast, the people, the seasons.”

“The seasons? That’s why you want to come?” His smile turned into a proud smirk as he placed his hands on either side of you, pressing you against the railing.

“And good company.” You smiled before pulling him down to meet your lips. 

“I missed you so much.” He said between kisses. You went to say something back but before you could Spencer’s phone went off in his pocket. He dropped his head and let out a loud sigh that made you giggle. 

“Yeah, Hotch.” He said formally but rolled his eyes and grinned at you. There were a few seconds of silence but you could hear a deep muffled voice through that phone. “Actually, I was planning on staying for a while, I’ll catch my own flight back.” The two men exchanged a few more formalities before Spencer casually put his phone back in his pocket.

“You’re staying?” You looked up at him with a timid smile before he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and leaned his body against yours.

“Well, I gotta help you pack.”