#and side profiles. because i cannot.

[negativezerohues]

drawing your favorite characters kinda slutty is actually a form of therapy

chopped up img under cut

[anonymouscheeses]

I'm gonna be shitting and screaming and starting fights if Sera becomes a villain. I can't take sibling angst, Sera loves Emily I swear guys believe meeee.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Everytime I face a new character limit on a website that didn't have them before/used to have really long ones... AUGHHhhh the modern social media world was not made for people like me (lovers of details, rambling, elaboration, thorough explanation, and nuance)

[keeps-ache]

ggghhg i hate vehiclessssssss ghghghhghhhhh [dies dies dies forever]

[ars-matron]

I really need to talk for a minute about this new mobile update and how much I as a legally blind person hate whatever the hell is going on with the photos and how it's making this app nearly impossible for me to use

I'm not sure the same thing is happening on the desktop version but for those who may not know in the app whenever you tap on a photo it used to just pop up and you could double tap to enlarge it and zoom in and scroll around and all was great.

A double tap now likes the photo and it must be pinched and pulled to zoom in and out. A mild annoyance, and nothing compared to the rest of the update. If you scroll up, which I do frequently when trying to navigate an enlarged photo, it will send you to ANOTHER photo based on the tags of the post.

That's right, a completely different photo!!! A feature no one asked for and no one wants!! This isn't facebook, or instagram, and maybe tiktok but I never had that so this is a guess. When I click on the photo I only want to see that photo (or in the case of multiple photos in a post I want to be able to easily scroll side to side for those). I do not want to be taken to another post!!! Also if you scroll too far to the left you are then sent to the profile of the person who reblogged the post. I do not know why. Who wants this feature? Is it a feature at all?

As someone who only taps on a photo because I cannot see it and I need to enlarge it, this is beyond a simple annoyance. I cannot navigate the photo like I need, there's a hair trigger on whether it sends you to a new post completely or if you are sent to the profile of the reblogger. Neither, again, are things I want. this leaves me having to back track a lot, re-zoom the photo as it reverts back to normal, and hope dearly that this time I can just read the damned text before it freaks out again.

I haven't seen anyone else talk about this outside of the tags, but really this is making the app unusable for me, and I'm sure for many others.

@staff I know you guys haven't cared about your disabled community much in the past (other photo updates that stopped allowing me to zoom into gifs is proof of that) but please don't make this app unusable for me. I would rather not have to leave.

[aromantic-pantyanarchy]

It's me. I'm the cis, heterosexual, aromantic man. I will never marry, I will never be married, I will grow into middle age and elder age and I will die unmarried. I will be forced to support a household of myself on only my wages alone for the rest of my life. I will be asked about women and marriage and children by my family for the rest of my life (or men, the progressive ones might say). I may not ever come out to them. I feel like I burned my coming out on something stupid. I don't want to explain it. I don't want to run them through the definitions and intricacies. I don't want the acceptance without understanding, placating me with ceased questions and poor explanations to other, drunk adults.

I like my hair to be long, I spent a year with it dyed a golden blonde with dark roots because I like the trashy party girl aesthetic. I want to dye it again with pink tips. I like painting my nails, black and blue are my favorite colors. I like wearing chokers. I also like wearing baggy jeans and ratty hoodies. I like having stubble. I like having chest hair. I like having a square jaw and broad shoulders. I wish I had a flatter stomach and a thinner profile frame. I don't know what this makes me, perhaps this is something no more GNC than Machine Gun Kelly. I think about this a lot, how queer my appearance truly is. I should think about it less. I have thought long and hard about if I could be trans or if I could be non-binary or if I could be genderqueer and the conclusion I ultimately came to is that I most enjoy being a man open to whatever self-expression I want.

I don't date, but I've thought about it. I would like to meet people, and I would like to have sex with them. But I don't want to hurt them. I fear if I explain what I am beforehand it'll scare them away. I fear if I explain after they'll feel manipulated or abused. I don't know how many people in the dating scene want what I want. I fear my own lack of experience will make me a bad lay, an embarrassing story to tell to confidants in hindsight. I fear my own virginity, a boundary to those I wish to be like. All of these fears are baseless, as I've not been able to even begin a single relationship in my life. Despite this I still heavily identify with terms like "slut" and "manwhore" and "thot" because my interests lay so deeply within casual sex, sex without great intimacy or emotion. This may be some form of stolen valor. I hope the true sluts are not too mad at me.

I made this blog several years ago because a mutual of mine reblogged memes making fun of aro and ace people, making fun of the concept of aphobia, and in addition well known aphobes. I didn't feel comfortable talking about aro stuff on my main blog, for as little as I talk about it. Living through the ace discourse of the 2016 era has largely caused me to cringe in embarrassment any time I am forced to discuss my orientation with people who aren't aro or ace themselves. I no longer follow this person. I unfollowed many people I was mutuals with from that time, most of them because they posted too often about how much they hated men and I didn't want to see that, some because our interests simply drifted too far apart, only one for explicit aphobia reasons. (Also one because they became a "both sides are bad, any vote is wasted" libertarian, but that's unrelated.)

I guess at this point I don't care deeply about what strangers on the internet think of me. If a trusted friend told me that they don't think I'm truly queer that may hurt. But I am going to continue to use the word for myself. I take up no resources. I go to events that are open to me. If an event was not open to me, I think I'd not want to go anyways. I am not a hypothetical, I am not a strawman, I am a person with lived experiences both within and exterior to the queer community. If you hate me, I will permit you to continue to do so. But ultimately, I am who I am, I cannot change these facts, and I would not choose to do so even if I could.

[parfaitblogs]

hii, can I please ask a blurb of post prison spencer and shy reader? And sometimes he teases her but not out of malice? Like when she talks about something and doesn't look at anyone in the eyes to focus on what she's saying (that's what I do) and he moves his head in her sight so their eyes meet?

spencer reid x shy!reader. fluff/comfort. 0.6k words. post prison reid. use of "sweet girl". 

a/n: i wrote this in like ten minutes tops because there is something sooo special to me about comfort spencer. i literally loved writing this. i was giggling and kicking MY OWN feet. i'm all for angsty!doesn't know how to accept love after prison spencer, but i also need us to start the movement of fluffy!literally worships the ground you walk on after prison because you show him so much love and support he doesn't know what else to do spencer. i love him and you for this request thank u

spencer reid who likes to listen to you talk when he gets out of prison, because talking sometimes seems like too much for him. who will sit down with you on the couch that is so perfectly moulded for your two bodies, and let you talk your entire way through whatever movie he agreed to watch for you because you always talk better when your eyes are fixated on a screen.

spencer reid who will wordlessly nod along when you start talking about your day when you're in bed together, using your rambling as a distraction from the things that keep him awake at night. whose hands will probably be running through your hair while you talk animatedly with your hands, eyes staring up at the ceiling.

spencer reid who will go into the bathroom with you because "showering alone is so boring" and "i need someone to talk to!" who will then sit outside the shower and listen to you talk some more, a shower curtain separating your two bodies as you stare at the tiled wall in front of you, hands preoccupied with shampooing your hair. spencer reid who will sit with you in his lap in the study, arms around your waist. who will answer your questions about prison because you say them with such a softness he learns he cannot keep secrets from you. and there are stars in your eyes that tugs at his heart strings every time something he says upsets you. whether it be the things he did to survive or something as mundane as his daily routine that was so vastly different to your own. and because you never look at him, but when he talks you do, and he would do anything to keep your eyes fixated on him for longer.

spencer reid who will then ask you a question about your own time alone whilst he was in prison, watching as you avert your eyes almost instantly from him, staring at whatever you could pretend was interesting behind him. who’d entangle a hand in your hair as you speak, you not thinking anything of it until he is tugging on it to pull your hair back – so, so gently, because you had learned that even after prison, he treats you with the care one would treat chinaware. spencer reid who will raise an eyebrow when you stare at him silently in confusion, convincing you to keep speaking, only to slide his hand from your hair on the back of your head to your jaw, fingers tilting your head towards him because "you keep looking away from me, sweet girl. stop it."

spencer reid who will be so confused when you stammer out a response, losing all ability to speak because he's looking at you like that and his eyes are boring holes into your own, and your heart is fluttering and you're flustered and he realises why you never look at him. and he thinks it is so funny because "i've been your boyfriend for how many years?" and you protest that he must be an awful profiler if he's never noticed this before. and so he will poke your sides until you're a laughing mess, and then he will get all serious and hold your face in place and tell you to continue, rewarding you with a kiss on some part of your face every time you manage to get a sentence out, until the reward is so nice you're rambling like you usually do, but this time you're looking at him and he is so, so in love with you and he has to actively fight the urge to kiss you every half a second. and screw prison and screw trauma, because for a brief moment he decides it was all worth it to get you right here, right now.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[lauriemarch]

and at the end of the day, people will still hate women.

because beyonce is a terrible songwriter who has a good body and nothing more and she's really nothing compared to olivia rodrigo, that stuck-up bitch who steals other people's music, but taylor swift is an old, bitter nothing who clearly hates other girls. and sabrina carpenter deserves to die because she followed her heart, not her brain, and that's exactly why zendaya will never be good enough for tom holland. don't forget about kylie jenner, who's stealing precious timothee's innocence away and dating her is like committing arthouse cinema suicide, or how we said the same thing about miley cyrus and her disgusting profanity, think of the children, poor liam hemsworth, trapped in a marriage with such a horrible woman. lana del rey was hot until she was big and she made trailerpark sexy until her ass got a little too fat. and ariana grande, talentless homewrecker, and selena gomez, jealous and unreasonable, and hailey bieber, even more boring than the blood drying on the knives you are so quick to pull. sophie turner is a bad mom and megan thee stallion deserved whatever was coming to her.

and amidst all of this, we still don't know these women. we cannot fathom the pain of having a public divorce, one where people choose sides and hurl insults at you until the battery on their phone dies. we don't watch them chase after sweet-cheeked children in tucked-away backyards or play board games with their best friends while their chests heave in laughter. we don't know their marriages and we don't know their solitudes. we don't watch them unravel themselves, time and time again, preparing for the battle that we have made of their lives. they can never make a mistake. they can never cry. they can never be who they believe themselves to be.

and we take all of this and we go to work, we ride the bus, we go grocery shopping, we walk in dappled sunlight, and we let ourselves shrivel. i compare myself to every body i see and i comfort in the fact that i can still encircle my wrists with my fingers. food turns to dust in my mouth when i think about the fact that taylor swift thinks she's fat and people still hate sabrina carpenter for sticking by joshua bassett's side when he almost died, for God's sake, and now the people on my twitter feed are saying GUTS is the worst album they've ever heard. i liked it, the tiny voice in my head cries out. she wrote songs that made me feel noticed. they're calling the song i relate to the most a total skip.

so i close the app. i try not to think about the endless profiles screaming about how much they hate a nineteen/thirty-two/thirty-eight/twenty-three/twenty-six/forty-two year old. i try not to think about how much they would hate me, if they knew anything at all.

[sreidisms]

Early seasons Reid and with BAU!reader whom just has a HUGE crush on her and Gideon has to spell it out to Spencer? I just love season 1/2 Reid. Him in glasses just makes me swoon ❤️

THIS IS SO CUTE, like it's so probable too. I didn't understand if you meant that Gideon had to spell out that Spencer likes the reader or that the reader likes Spencer, so I went with the former. If you wanted the latter, tell me and I'll write it!

An Oblivious Genius

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer has feelings for you but is too oblivious to realise - Gideon helps him.

Genre: subtle fluff

Word Count: 862

Warnings: none

A/N: the way I ended this leaves it open to a part two, so please comment if you'd like one!

“I think you have feelings for her.”

“Huh?”

Gideon didn’t lift his gaze from the newspaper in his hands, the wrinkles on his forehead peeking from behind the inked folio. “I said, you may have feelings for her, Reid.”

Spencer never turned to anyone for help, because why would he? He knew more than anyone else when it came to most things - well, except socially. And emotionally. And anything having to do with you.

The only person that wouldn’t bruise his ego was Gideon - his mentor, his guidance. He held more of a God-like presence than a fatherly one for Reid; his advice and experience were almost holy, a dogma which Spencer believed and followed without questioning.

So when his number one source of truth told him he had a crush on you, it was a shock.

“I don’t think that’s the case-”

“Reid.”

Spencer stopped his attempted rambling as Gideon’s eyes made an appearance from behind the lowered paper.

“Just repeat what you were telling me at the start of the conversation,” the older man sighed.

Spencer shifted on his legs, picking at the rolled up sleeve that was settled by his elbow.

“I know she’s my closest friend, the person I feel most comfortable with, although she’s been working here for less time than everyone else. It’s probably because she doesn’t interrupt me and listens when I talk.” He paused for a second, the corner of his mouth lifting into a subtle smile. “I like that.”

“What else?” urged Gideon, setting his newspaper on the desk in front of him.

“I get really excited to see her. Well, I enjoy seeing Derek and Elle too, but I get this weird feeling at the pit of my stomach when I see her.” He pressed his palm to his sternum, showing the origin of the sensation.

“That’s because she means more to you.”

“Yes, but surely not in the way you’re implying. It could be heart burn; do you know that twenty percent of Americans suffer from a gastroesophageal reflux at least once a week-”

“You’re telling me you happen to experience heart burn each time she enters the room?”

Gideon raised an eyebrow, making the younger agent feel dumb for such an improbable conclusion.

“Okay … okay maybe not, the two variables cannot be fully independent of each other if they occur simultaneously every time.”

It was surprising to Gideon that such an intelligent and well-rounded person could be so oblivious to something as romantic feelings. He pressed his thumb and index finger into his eyes, rubbing them slowly and dragging his fingers down his cheeks, buying himself some time to think.

“I think an obvious question is, do you think she’s pretty?” he asked and waved his hand to the side.

Spencer bit his lower lip. He thought you were the most gorgeous person he had ever laid eyes on if he had to be entirely honest; but he couldn’t admit that, not out loud at least.

“I do.”

“That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say, Gideon? That I think that she’s breath-taking and there’s not a thing about her I don’t like?” He said it with a certain anger, one that was buried somewhere deep inside him, a result of the pent up emotions and anxieties in his chest.

“Is that the truth?” You’d think that with his profiling experience, he would have learnt to mask the way he was suppressing the fluttery feelings and adoration he had for you.

Gideon sighed before speaking again: “What are the signs that one is supressing emotions?”

“Struggling to identify and express feelings or appearing emotionally distant, unexpected mood swings, and avoidance of specific topics, people, or situations.”

“And doesn’t that seem to mirror what you’re going through?”

Spencer thought about it. He was definitely finding it challenging to pin point his emotions, he couldn’t really understand what he felt for you; he didn’t really have mood swings, but had just lashed out at his mentor over a comment; and he certainly avoided the topic of liking you or the teasing of such from his workmates.

“Shit, I like her.”

Gideon chuckled at his out-of-character swearing. “First off, watch your language. Secondly, I’m glad you’ve come round.” He laid back in his chair once more, lifting up the paper to continue his reading.

The young genius didn’t know what to do with this newfound information. He liked you. More than liked you, really. He was fascinated by your mere existence, your kindness, your humour, and most definitely your looks. How hadn’t he realised this sooner?

“What do I do now?” he mumbled, taking off his glasses to wipe them on his button-up shirt.

“You tell her you like her.”

Spencer near snapped his glasses in half with the way the pads of his fingers pressed firmly in shock.

“You want me to do what?”

“Reid, it’s not a secret that she has a soft spot for you.”

The boy sputtered, jaw opening and closing like a door on rusted hinges. “I- I can’t do that!”

The newspaper rustled as Gideon flipped the page. “One of you will eventually.”

God I need him, he's such a cutie

[adoregojo]

secret admirer.

hihihihihihihihi, i cannot believe i actually slept for two days in a row? wth? and also that i never did this kind of posts? im such a lazy bum mb yall, I promise I'll write a real fic soon. summary: bllk characters as your secret admirers: isagi, bachira, chigiri, reo. how they fell, what do they do, how did they confess.

isagi.y

him. just him.

you once held his shirt collar to stop him from planting flatly on the floor.

and when you walked away, you walked with his heart in your palms.

yea, just like that

but honestly, isagi himself didn't knew he was such a big sap inside

and the moment he realised you two shared a few classes was the second he almost kneeled and thanked the sky itself for this.

an absolute swoon from looking at your side profile.

he once was long gone within the abyss of daydreaming about you, he genuinely just couldn't look away.

then got called out by the teacher for being too distracted.

definitely prayed that you didn't see that.

writes your name unintentionally in his notebook.

gets so embarrassed about it later and rips the paper.

still dose it again the next day and almost ripped the whole book apart form cringing at himself.

he once was musing over you too much to the point that your name slipped out unwittingly on the dinner table.

his parents couldn't stop teasing him about it, wondering when they would see you walking down their house door.

leaves love notes in your locker almost everyday.

it's something short and simple like: "you look pretty today."

then when he goes home he'll realize how dumb that was because you literally look the prettiest everyday.

dumb, dumby.

takes time to make the first move though.

he just feels like you're way, farther away from his reach.

it's okay, he still considers himself lucky to be one of those who got admire you.

he just hoped you saw him behind all of them, even if it was a glance.

chigiri.h

omgg pretty boyyy

despite chigiri being a confident and self-reliant, the trigger words of his old injury was like a pulling a pin of a grenade to his still-raw sorrowness. something that'll always haunt him.

and what dose he dare to say when they were nothing but truthful? like a salt to his wounds, he tends to just take it and suck it up, or at least try to ignore it for his sake.

but everything flipped when you stood up for him.

from that moment on. chigiri knew that he was far a goner.

out of everyone here he's definitely the most romantic one.

reads all your favourite books and analysis it.

probably named a cat after you.

like isagi he writes love letters for you.

just a little too poetic..

it it's short then it's something like: "loving you is like breathing." or "i hope your days are filled with the same joy you give me with your existence only."

but mostly is: "my definition of love, i see the true meaning of living behind your hue of life. you shall lighten my soul with your existence alone, i was born to see you shin each day, witnessing you is a blessing from heaven itself. the day that i stop seeing you as the owner of the stars is the day my body shall vanish, yet my soul will know it way back to you. from your only and one your admirer."

what a lovesick clown.

he might be a smooth talker on the outside, but trust me the butterflies of sentimental keeps on swirling in his stomach on the sight of you.

told his mother and sister about you.

it was his biggest regrets.

because the next day his sister shouted your name in a demand for you to spend the night for the 'meeting of the future in law'.

he had to physically drag her back to the car, freaking embarrassing.

couldn't meet your eyes for a while after that.

wants to hold your hand.

like, really badly.

it's just that feeling your skin against his cold, pristine hands must've feel like the loveliest, cosiest thing.

the thoughts alone are making him go crazy.

he confessed first, just couldn't help himself.

he just hoped if you would go to the end of the world alongside with him.

bachira.m

the sunshine boy himself.

the definition of fell first AND fell harder.

it all started when the class was ordered to work as duo for a project, something he always despised.

you may say that because bachira was definitely not having the word 'smart' in his book, you'd be right actually.

but mainly since no one really wanted to group up with him.

it was embarrassing, to just sit there and wait to be picked was putting him under the lights that pointed him out as the most pitiful creature in the room.

then you pocked him on the shoulder, and asked him if he wanted to be your partner.

and when he didn't see the sarcasm reeking from you, he knew he tripped hard, and couldn't find it anywhere in his feet to back him up.

it was strange, bachira never had a company, let alone a crush.

but the signs were there, and were painfully vulnerable.

painted you in art class multiple times; you with a smile, you reading a book, you sniffing a sunflower.

maybe also you and him... holding hands or hugging...

stares at your face a way, way too long.

he tells himself it's to crave your features better and detailed.

even he doesn't believe that however.

he draws your eyes a lot.

his second favourite colour is your eyes hue.

he was never the best at writing romantic poems, and his hand writing is just........

so he insisted gets you a gift!

which is a rock.

yes you heard me, rock.

he would even paint a little face with a smile on it and leave it on your desk by the end of the day.

almost went bald from joy when you had it hanging as a small march on your bag.

and when you had a bad day, that goes unnoticed by him.

so imagine your surprise when you would find two pairs of rocks, one kissing the other who had a sad expression on it face.

that somehow that foster a blissful smile on your face. like that little action extinct any remains of the past negative you carried.

and bachira was more than happy to be the reason for your happiness.

definitely rambles about you to his mom.

and his monster.

he once ha a dream about you two smooching.

cried when he woke up because he wanted it to be real more than anything.

you two confessed first, at the same time.

and boy was he dancing on cloud nine at it.

he almost smooch you that moment and then.

reo.m

it's mister perfect everyone, cheer.

you fell first, he fell harder.

no, literally. you fell. tripped flat on the floor.

and somehow, that made the reo mikage heart move.

?????????

love at first (fall??) sight.

he definitely leaves a trail of gifts for you everywhere.

your chair, desk, locker, bag.

he switches between chocolate and flowers to letters and perfumes, necklaces, etc..

you say how he picked them?

easy, see something that reminds him of you, he buys.

and it's pretty foolish since he sees you in almost everything.

reo is convinced that you're within everything that shins beautifully.

he actually paid the teachers to let him be in the same classroom as you.

paid even more to get a seat next to you.

rip to whoever was sitting next to you.

he once heard that a guy was bothering you.

the next day the guy was the talking of school because he suddenly moved out of town due to his dad losing his job.

hm, must be karma then.

has a shrine of you.

but you didn't hear that from me.

talks about you none stop to nagi and ba-ya.

genuinely sobbed when he imagined you with someone else.

has a flight under your name.

made a makeshift doll of you so he can practice his confessions on.

had a mental breakdown of the idea of you rejecting him.

reo can the most horrible, miserable day to a human kind to live.

then he sees you smiling

BOOM

he's all happy and smiling again, also a little giddy.

you once greeted him good morning, the next day he was planing what ring would suit you the most.

had two planes to write on the sky: 'will you go out with me?' and your name next to it in a shade of a heart.

now, you definitely cannot reject that. (Please don't)

have a nice day everyone.

[reiding-writing]

Omg imagine Reid being incredibly touch starved and literally having this very primal craving for affection to the point it's all he can think about but he cannot for the life of him get over his fear of germs and it's just all this angst and ahh

deprivation [ s.r ]

Summary:

Spencer needs support. He needs it. But he for the life of him just cannot reach out for it himself. And after one particular case, you make an effort to try and quell is emotional rampage.

WARNINGS: germophobia, self deprecation, touch deprivation, emotional breakdown

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: ANGST, hurt/comfort

wc: 2.8k

masterlist!!

a/n: great minds must think alike because i was actually already working on this when the request came in😭

i made this less angsty than originally planned, but i hope it suffices nonetheless the less, thanks for the request! <33

Spencer Reid was exhausted in every sense of the word.

His muscles ached, his head pounded, and he was so burnt out he didn’t even have any thing to say when JJ had incorrectly mentioned a ‘fact’ about a certain sub-species of butterfly that was supposedly native to Oregon.

His exhaustion only proved to get worse as the jet took off for Virginia, but the unfortunate rampaging of his own mind proved any chance of him sleeping on the flight home impossible.

“Hey… Are you okay?” Your voice seems to echo across the silence of the cabin despite you practically whispering to avoid waking your teammates, and Spencer’s eyes flicker up towards you, clearly not having expected you to be awake.

You stand up from your seat, walking down the aisle to take a seat on the sofa next to Spencer, his head resting in his hands as his eyes followed you. “You’ve been really quiet since the case ended,”

“I’m fine…” He said the words, but it wasn’t reflective of his tone of voice. There was something there. Something more, something beneath the words.

A sadness.

An uncertainty.

And if you listened to his voice, not just to his words, you’d hear a hint of pain, a deep seeded sense of misery that he was concealing beneath the usual layers of stoicism.

“Spencer you’re talking to a professional profiler, which I don’t even need to be to know that you’re not okay.” You can’t help the soft sigh that escapes your mouth, turning to sit sideways to face him properly.

"I'm fine," He said the words again, and this time they held a touch of force. But the words did not match his tone, still pained, wounded, and silently pleading with him to just be honest with you.

And as the words came out of his mouth, he took a deep breath, closing his eyes as if hoping that what he was feeling would be gone by the time he opened them again.

But when they fluttered open through his eyelashes he was still on the sofa of the jet and you were still sitting there and he still felt miserable.

“If you don’t want to talk about it then I won’t pressure you,” You dejectedly resign yourself at Spencer’s insistence, leaning your left side against the back of the sofa. “But just know i’m here for you if you ever want to get something off your chest okay?”

"It's just...It's just-" He paused, biting his lip as if unsure about what he was about to say. He knew it may be dangerous to let himself slip. So he considered his words carefully before he spoke again. "...it's just been hard...I’m so stressed and...I'm...feeling vulnerable. And I don't like it. I don't like it at all."

“Everyone’s gonna feel like that at some point Spence, especially in our line of work,” You tilt your head slightly at him, a soft expression painting your features that matches your tone.

"I know..." He said, " But...I don't like feeling like...like i can't cope. Like I'm scared. That's not who I am. I'm supposed to be the rational one. The smart one." Spencer dragged his palms up his face and back over his hair, leaning back against the sofa with his head leaned back against the wall.

“I don’t like being scared,”

And there, again, in that simple sentence was another hint of the hurt that his apprehension hadn’t managed to fully hide. “I’m meant to be better than that.”

“Spencer just because you are a functioning genius does not mean that you’re not allowed to be scared, that’s a part of what makes you human,” Your face furrows as you become increasingly concerned for Spencer and his mindset.

"I-...I know..." He said the words, but the underlying message was clear. He might know that he was supposed to have emotions and he might know that expressing them is healthy, but there was a part of him that was screaming at him to suppress them.

To bury his feelings and pretend to be the robot that his childhood (or lack thereof) had forced him to be.

He wasn't trying to be resistant, he was just...afraid.

“When was the last time you cried Spencer?” The question blurted it’s way out of your mouth as your concern for Spencer only continued to grow.

"Why would you ask me that?" His tone of voice was almost affronted by the question as if he were a little wounded that you had brought up something so sensitive.

He swallowed back the lump in his throat, and you swear that you could see his eyes glass over even in the dim lighting of the cabin. “Because i want to know exactly how much pent up emotion you’re dealing with right now,”

You make a conscious effort to relax your features as you look at him, sighing softly. “Please answer the question…”

Spencer took a second as he deliberated whether or not to answer your question, staring blankly across the cabin so he wouldn’t have to look at you.

"958 days ago."

He said the words coldly, but you could hear the emotion in the way he spoke them. This is the moment when he finally cracked. When he finally realised that hiding the way he felt wasn't a sustainable solution.

And its was also the point when he started to break down. The tears finally started to flow, and he couldn't stop them as much as he tried.

“Spence…” You reach out a hand towards him, but you barely get it up out of your lap before he firmly stops you.

"Don't..."

The words come out of him sharply, but there's something in his tone that saying the opposite. There’s a note of desperation in them. A plea. A cry for help. Because he wants you to touch him, he needs you to. But he's resistant to the idea, he keeps resisting it. “80% of communicable diseases are passed by physical contact. I don’t want to get sick.”

You curl up your hand into a ball as you let it fall back into your lap, pursing your lips as Spencer uses his statistical knowledge to stop you from touching him.

You knew he had an aversion to touch. That he was hyper aware of practically any illness that could possibly be transferred through human contact. You knew that he kept himself at a physical distance from everyone for a reason.

But you also knew that despite all of that he needed physical comfort. Words just weren’t going to cut it.

“It’s okay to need to be comforted…”

"I can get through this myself." He cuts you off harshly, and if you didn’t know that he was obviously mentally struggling his tone would’ve cut you deep.

He's in pain.

He's miserable.

And he's been alone for too long.

He needs emotional intimacy. He needs the affection and comfort of his friends.

He just can't bring himself to actually say that.

“Spencer, let me comfort you. please.” You bite the inside of your cheek as your eyes follow a tear that falls down his face, leaving a water streak in its wake.

“It’s not healthy for you to ball yourself up like this,” You plead desperately with him to let down his emotional barriers and just let you help him.

"There's nothing wrong with me." His words are still cold, but he's wavering now. His shoulders are lowering, his hands loosening from fists to lying flat on either side of him.

He wants you to touch him. He wants the affection that he's been deprived of for so long. But there's still that part in him that's resisting. The voice in his head telling him he can't.

“There doesn’t have to be anything wrong with you for you to need comfort Spencer,” You attempt again to hesitantly reach out a hand towards you, but your advances are again immediately shot down.

"Please.. Don't touch me." His words come out weakly. He's desperately resisting, but the tears are still flowing down his cheeks and you can tell that he’s trying not to completely break down.

“…Are you sure?” You hand retreats back to your side the second he denies you, but you both know he’s not entirely convinced of his own boundaries.

"I'm sure."

He's lying.

The tears were still streaming down his cheeks, and even one quick look at his eyes could tell you that he was desperate to be touched.

He was craving human interaction. But the words were still coming out of his mouth. He wasn't ready yet, not quite yet.

Your hand falls to the gap between the two of you on the sofa, a few inches left between his hand and yours as you suppress a sigh at the clear desperation coating his face despite his denial of your touch.

But you don’t want to overstep the boundary, even if he’s not 100% sure of it himself.

He stares back at you, still resisting the urge to reach out for your hand, even though he's not sure why. He knows that he would feel better if he could grab you and put his head on your shoulder, letting the weight of all of his problems wash away.

But there was still the little voice in his head shouting "Don't. Don't touch them. Don't." And he was struggling. Fighting with every inch of his being for self-control.

As the two of you fall into a slightly tense silence, you make a small movement to breaking Spencer’s self made barrier as you edge your pinky finger towards his own, just barely brushing his skin as you keep your eyes plastered on the opposite wall.

His eyes follow your fingers as they inch their way closer and closer to his. And when - at long last - you make contact, Spencer freezes. Time seems to just stand still as his eyes are transfixed on the single point of contact between your fingers and his.

He doesn't move, he doesn't speak. He just watches.

Over 200 breeds of bacteria are passed through people’s hands for every second they’re in contact.

But he can’t seem to pull himself away.

Because this is the connection he seeks. This is the release he needs. And finally, finally he gets it.

You continue to gently bridge the gap as your pinky finger links itself with Spencer’s, squeezing it with a gentle pressure as you try desperately to stop your eyes from averting back to him.

The second your finger links with his, a dam of emotions breaks. The tears flow faster and he lets out a whimper in the back of his throat.

As soon as you touch him, he leans into the feeling and turns his hand over, pressing his palm and his other fingers against your own, wanting more, needing more of this sensation that he's been starved of for so long.

You respond enthusiastically at his acceptance of the contact, interlacing your fingers together and giving his hand a soft squeeze as you finally bring your gaze back towards his face.

“You’re going to be alright Spencer…”

The moment your hand falls into his is a moment of sweet release. The flood gates have opened, the dam has broken, and there are no barriers between him and the overwhelming emotions he's been forced to bottle up.

And as the dam breaks so too does that small, insistent voice telling him to reject contact. That small voice that tells him he can't have physical affection.

Because that small voice is wrong.

And when you squeeze his hand he brings no hesitation into melting into you completely and burying his face into the crook of your neck.

You immediately shift to accommodate Spencer’s weight against your body, breaking the contact of your hands to pull him into a firm but comforting embrace, rubbing soft lines up and down his back as the other held his head against your shoulder.

With tears still flowing down his cheeks and his head buried in your neck, he lets out a soft, contented whimper.

His body relaxes in your embrace, and just lies there in your arms.

He's safe. He's finally safe, and it feels good. He no longer needs to hold himself together. And for the first time in years, he feels loved.

“I’ve got you…” You whisper the affirmation softly into Spencer’s hair as you rest your nose against the crown of his head.

He lets out more soft whimpers, his body relaxing as he leans into the comfort of your embrace, finally allowing himself to just let go.

He takes in big breaths, drinking in your scent as he tries to slow his breathing. He's still crying, but the tears aren't so severe anymore. He's finally started to calm down.

You lean backwards against the seat to support both of your weights comfortably as you focus on soothing Spencer through his emotions, running your fingers gently through his hair and massaging softly at his scalp.

The soft strokes against his head bring a wave of shivers, but they aren't like the shivers that he had felt when he'd been shaking so much.

These are better, these are warm and comforting, and it was like the tension was leaving his body from his head all the way down to his toes.

It feels good, it feels right.

Your touch was healing, and his whole body is relaxing in the gentle massage of your fingers.

“when was the last time you got a full night’s rest Spence..?” The question is soft against his ear as you continue to gently scratch and massage Spencer’s scalp, pulling him slightly towards you with your other arm to secure him safely in your lap.

“I… A while ago…” His words were hushed and sleepy, the exhaustion evident in the slight rasp that was present in his voice. He's been so caught up in the case and the work that he hasn't given a moment's thought to taking care of himself.

He's running on caffeine and willpower. He’s exhausted.

“You should get some sleep…” You carefully adjust the way yo two are sat until you are lying flat on your back with Spencer splayed out on top of you, burying himself in your presence at every point possible.

“I will…”

He's lying.

And based on the fact that his eyes are still squeezed tight against you and the way he's practically buried his body into yours it's clear that even he knows that he's lying.

There's no way that he can sleep right now. Not when he's finally feeling safe. When he's finally found comfort. He plans to bask in it for as long as possible.

“I’ll still be here when you wake up Spencer,” You know that he knows that you know he’s lying. “Get some rest,”

"But-"

He wants to hold this moment, to cling to this moment, trying to delay the passing of time just a little longer.

"I-“

He falters, realising that he's fighting against losing an argument that has already ended. He forces himself to breathe in and out in a slow and deliberate way as he resigns himself to the inevitability of falling asleep.

“…promise?”

He sounds less like a genius and more like a scared child when he says those words. A child who wants to be reassured. Who wants to be told that everything will be okay. That he'll be taken care of when he wakes up from his slumber.

“I promise.”

[378262]

dreaming of a nose job lmao

[haneys]

goodnight FOREVERRRRR this is so sad I can't even visit her profile again because every time u click on someone's profile they get a notification for that and I don't want to idk seem weird for looking at her profile twice? 😭 nobody fucking talk to me I'm blowing everyone up

[luvhughes43]

the boy is mine | quinn hughes

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌙]

summary: yn meets quinn hughes and is instantly captivated by him, leading to him inspiring and starring in her new single "the boy is mine"

word count: 2.8k

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📍brighter days studios

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yourusername soooooon ;)

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user01 our soon??

liked by yourusername

user02 love you !!! cannot wait to see what youre working on

user03 you guys... quinn hughes liked this...

user04 NEW MUSIC?? OHH IM UP.

user05 i'm seated. the record store employees are scared and asking me to leave because "it's not even out yet" but im simply too seated.

6 MONTHS EARLIER

how can it be? you and me

might be meant to be, can't unseen it

but i don't wanna cause no scene

im usually so unproblematic

so independent, tell me why

'cause the boy is mine, mine

it was supposed to be for album promotion. sitting in the stands at rogers arena - right behind the home bench so the camera had easy access to see your dazzling face as the game unfolded in front of you. "he's kind of cute," your best friend courtney leans in towards you, pointing out one of the players only a few feet away from you behind the glass.

HUGHES. 43.

you study his side profile for a second - not giving him any real attention. you were here strictly on business and if people started suspecting you were eyeing somebody who was rumoured to be in a relationship (you checked) you knew that your publicist would call you in distress.

"i think hes taken," you whisper back, nervously eyeing the people sitting around you.

courtney nudges you with a small chuckle, "you checked?"

you playfully nudge her back, before settling back into your seat. to tell the truth, you were on a strict "no dating" rule ever since your ex boyfriend ran his mouth to page six detailing how you "cheated" on him with someone in a relationship. it wasn't a true story of course, but everyone flocked to the headlines anyway as an excuse to call you horrid names and say i just never liked her anyway!

hughes turns around then, and you feel your breath hitch as the speakers call out your name and your flushed face is plastered across the jumbotron. "you so like him," courtney laughs and you can't help but join her.

"portia's gonna kill me,"

"oh come on! a new relationship is a publicists dream... plus, i think he likes you. he literally cannot stop staring," you look to where courtney points and you see the defensemen skating towards centre ice - his eyes flicking towards you before he grounds himself in the game.

butterflies immediately fill up your chest and you know your screwed. the boy is mine.

something about him is made for somebody like me

baby, come over, come over

and God knows i'm trying, but theres no use in denying

you don’t know how she did it, but as soon as the final buzzer rang courtney was pulling you up and out of your seat and dragging you through the various corridors of the arena. “where are we going?” you ask, letting courtney pull you along.

“i’ve got connections babes,” she replies before coming to a halt in-front of a door. she knocks twice and a nice man wearing a suit opens the door slightly.

“you all good?” he turns his head and yells into the room.

“court…” your confusion is clear but before you can ask any questions the man swings the door open and your face to face with the canucks roster. “courtney!” you hiss lowly and she squeezes your hand tightly.

“you’re welcome…” she teases as she drops your hand and steps into the room.

as if your eyes were magnets, you lock eyes with quinn. his cheeks tinge with pink, and you quickly avert your gaze.

the man from before introduces you to the room - even though it’s not really necessary. your “scandals” have been plastered all over the news since your brief hiatus from music left everyone bored and in need of gossip.

"hughes - i mean uh quinn. i'm quinn," the man from the ice stutters as he reaches a hand out towards you. you slip your hand into his and with an awkward pause you two drop your hands.

"im y/n," you reply with a small smile and courtney silently slips away to greet the other players.

the boy is mine

i can't wait to try him

let's get intertwined

the stars they aligned

the boy is mine

watch me take my time

i cant believe my mind

the boy is divine

everything happened surprisingly fast. one minute you were sharing your number with quinn - against all rational judgement - and the next the two of you were taking any gaps in your schedules to spend time together. coffee dates turned into lunches, which turned into dinners, and then there were nights wrapped in each others sheets. it was all so crazy and fast - and it turned out that quinn wasn't seeing anybody after all.

please know this aint what i planned for

probably wouldnt bet a dime or my life on

there's gotta be a reason why

my girls, they always come through in a sticky situation

say, "it's fine"

happens all the time

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yourusername 🌞

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courtney miss youu

user06 cuties !!!!

user07 quinns liking her posts again...

user08 he saw her at his game months ago and instantly folded... i respect that in a man

_quinnhughes

liked by yourusername, lhughes_06, _eliaspettersson, and 31 409 others

_quinnhughes Summa😎🌊

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trevorzegras what the dog doin

user09 now who's damn dog...

user10 TOULOUSE???

user11 ? who tf is toulouse

user12 it's yns dog!! istg she and quinn are dating

when you don't think the rumours are true but... your attention is stuck on your phone screen as your leaked song plays in the background of a tiktok. a pretty blonde girl lip syncs your song with annoyance and you watch the video a total of three times before clicking on the caption. "guess she fantasized about my bf too much and now hes hers lol... she's sick."

"do you know this girl?" you ask quinn and he lazily looks up from the pasta he's cooking. you mute the video as chills go up your spin. there is absolutely no way that quinn was seeing someone when the two of you first got together all those months ago.

"no why, is she your friend?" quinn replies easily.

you stare back at the video and all of the interactions it has. over two-hundred-thousand likes and all the comments are bashing you for something you didn't even do. you were so beyond tired of this situation and people using your name for attention. "no, i don't know her either," you respond distantly. you forward the video to your managers and hope they can rectify the situation.

"it's nothing," you dismiss your earlier question when you realize that quinn is still lingering on you. he reluctantly nods before turning his attention back to his pan. "thanks for coming here by the way - i know your schedules insane," quinn speaks up, mentioning the break in your studio time to come visit his lake house in michigan.

"thank you for inviting me," you set your phone down - completely committing to ignore the online drama and to focus on what's in front of you.

something about him was made for somebody like me

baby, come over, come over

and God knows i'm trying, but theres no use in denying

you had never spent so much time in one place. you were only supposed to be in vancouver for a few studio sessions with a producer native to the city - but ever since meeting quinn you became enamoured with the city. but it wasn't just vancouver either - you were also splitting your time between michigan as well. which, before meeting quinn was just a single stop on an 100-show tour.

but strangely despite everything, vancouver feels like home as you begin navigating your new album cycle and the words of 'wisdom' from your publicist portia who - you swore was only discouraging you from your relationship so she wouldnt have to stave off angry people on social media.

"i was thinking... gossip girl marathon and we order-in?" quinn suggests as soon as you step foot into his apartment. your mind settles as youre welcomed into your boyfriends space.

"have you ever watched gossip girl?" you ask, tossing your bag onto the couch before sliding up next to quinns spot in the kitchen. he had various online menus pulled up on his laptop, ready to order whatever you desired.

quinn hums, "i watched it with my mom when i was younger. i'm team blair,"

"team blair?" you gasp, "ohh you were made for me," you laugh lightly as you point towards one of the menus on his screen. "i'm so down to watch gossip girl,"

"do you wanna go set up the tv while i order the food?" he asks and you kiss him on the cheek before making your way into his living room.

the boy is mine

i can't wait to try him

let's get intertwined

the stars they aligned

the boy is mine

watch me take my time

i cant believe my mind

the boy is divine

"i think we should riff off 'fantasize'," you speak to your music producer - max - finally wanting to take back the energy from your leaked song. you were tired, and with quinn away on pre-season hockey duties you were bored. "something more sophisticated," you explain as you click through various samples and instrumentals. you finally land on one half-finished record and the lyrics immediately come to you.

"the boy is mine..." you hum along to the empty track as you pull out your notes app. "i can't wait to try him-" you continue, rapidly noting lyrics in your app.

by the end of your studio session the basic structure of the song was completed and you knew you had a hit on your hands.

and i know it's simply meant to be

and i, take full accountability for all these years

promise you i'm not usually

like this, shit, its like news to me

but i can't ignore my heart, boy

"the boy is mine, i can't wait to try him..." you sing quietly to yourself as you search pinterest for music video inspiration. "let's get intertwined... the stars they aligned..." quinns smirk immediately presses against your soft shoulder. he trails light kisses across your shoulder blade and up to your neck, silently begging you to continue singing your newest song.

"the boy is mineee..." his soft lips are ticklish against your skin but you can't help but lean into his grasp.

"i love when you sing," he mumbles and you tilt your head to rest against his. halle berry's cat woman buzzes in the background but neither of you are paying the movie any attention.

you hum, "oh yeah?"

he kisses your shoulder again and you fix your gaze back onto your laptop screen before lightly closing it and setting it to the side. "i still don't know what i'm going to do about the music video,"

quinn lays back in bed and allows his gaze to fixate on the tv. "what about catwoman? i'd bet you'd look good in a cat suit" he teases. you knew he wasn't being entirely serious but halle berry easily captures your attention as she dazzles on screen in her catsuit.

"the boy is mine," you hum lightly, completely enticed with quinns idea for your music video.

i can't wait to try him

lets get intertwined

the stars, they aligned

the boy is mine

watch me take my time

i can't believe my mind

the boy is divine

boy is mine

the male lead for the boy is mine video is a no-show. multiple calls to his personal phone, calls and emails to his managers and agency, everything is left unanswered.

quinn🤍🌙: i'm out front. i got your favourite drink

you sigh with relief as you quickly excuse yourself from the upset mass of production staff and your cinematographer.

"hey, what's wrong?" your boyfriend of almost a year asks with concern etched across his features. you blink slowly and all your frustrations manifests into tears.

"the shoot is going so bad," you breathe heavily, "and we're so behind schedule,"

quinn wipes away your fallen tears with his thumb. "why what's happening?"

"the male lead hasn't shown up yet and he and agency aren't answering our calls," you lean against quinn and he easily wraps a hand around your waist. "i've filmed most of my solo shots but i know the crew is getting upset and i don't know what to do. we're trying to find a replacement but-"

"i'll do it," quinn says quietly and measuredly.

"what?" you blink and pull away from him slightly. quinn passes you your drink and you allow the coolness of the cup to soothe some of your nerves.

"i'll be in the video" he repeats. "if you want- i mean i don't want to overstep or-"

you lightly tap quinns hand with your own. "i'd love if you were in the video," you say softly, nerves completely dissipating with his comfort and the solution to your problem. "thank you," you kiss his cheek.

less than an hour later quinn was fitted in his costume and was debriefed on the scenes he would be filming.

─── ➤ 📹

you left quinn to film his presidential speech sequence so that you could get ready to film the catsuit portion of the video. your dress was tight and your brown wig made you take on your pop-girl persona that you'd been sheltering ever since the infidelity allegations ruined your reputation.

"oh you look so good," quinn wanders up to you as soon as you step onto the apartment set. he eyes your latex dress before smoothing a hand down your side gently. "i was right about the outfit," he jokes easily and you lean against his side while the crew finishes marking the next scene.

"you don't look too bad yourself," you blush under the weight of his gaze. you trail one of your hands up the front of his chest before realizing where the two of you were. not like it would be a crime to ogle your boyfriend on your music video set... but still.

"how was filming your speech?" you ask, pulling away from him slowly.

"only forgot my lines once!" quinn jokes with a laugh, to which you immediately join in on.

"that's my boy!"

"okay, y/n - quinn, we're ready for you two now," your lovely director calls out across the set.

PRESENT DAY

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liked by _quinnhughes, bradytkachuk, arianagrande, and 6.7M others

yourusername "the boy is mine" is out now!!🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛ starring my boy _quinnhughes, featuring brandy & monicadenise !!!!🥹🥹🫶 and directed by the amazing christhedirector

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christhedirector the best is yet to come!🎬

_quinnhughes had the best time with you!❤️

arianagrande obsessed

jackhughes can't believe you let him on set

canucks the collab we didnt know we needed!🐈‍⬛💙

user13 QUINN???? HUGHES????

user14 the most insane hard launch wtf?

user15 the boy may be yours but i need him to be MINE!

user16 waittt this is the guy from the hockey game all those months ago??? wow

user17 mv was so good i started hallucinating

user18 loveeee you!!! this song and mv is literally so good!

_quinnhughes

liked by yourusername, lhughes_06, _eliaspettersson, and 361 043 others

_quinnhughes "the boy is mine" by the amazing yourusername is out everywhere now!❤️

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lhughes_06 can't believe this exists

_eliaspettersson 📸📸

trevorzegras damnnnn you really weren't lying

_quinnhughes ?

bboeser looking good💯

user19 WHAT

user20 me next pls

user21 so the rumours were true this whole time👀

user22 so did she cheat or not like...

user23 plss he wasnt even following that tiktok girl it was definitely a lie for views lmao.

user24 soooo their relationship is confirmed ?

user25 hughes girlies lost

user26 OHHH I WON I LOVE U BOTH SM!!

user27 this mv has me feeling things hold on...

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, madisonbeer, jackhughes, and 5.7M others

yourusername last photo dump i promiseeee !!! this project has been an absolute dream and i'm so happy that it's finally yours after all these months! i can't wait for u guys to see what else we've been working on.. ;)

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_quinnhughes the most talented♥️

user28 TRUE LOVE?? oh this quinn stuff is serious huh...

user29 i get it

user30 loveee you the most

THE END <3

-

-

-

[railingsofsorrow]

I hate you, until I don't

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: three times you annoyed Spencer and three times Spencer annoyed you, proving the two of you cannot stand each other. . . until the one time that there was less annoyance and more sexual tension. 

pairing: s.reid x reader 

w.c: 3.6K

warnings/content: inaccurate medical procedures (don't come for me); language; flirting; enemies to lovers; case-related violence; suggestive content (no smut but I'm classifying this as +16).

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

━━━━━━━━━ 

[The Coffee] 

Smoke should be coming out of his ears by now, from the way his neck is pink and you're sure he's also got his jaw clenched by how his furiously he's writing on the board, connecting the leads.  

You've been fifteen minutes out of the room and Spencer has figure out the whole case.  

“Why are you so angry?” 

“I'm not angry.” 

You do not need to be a profiler to know he had that answer on the tip of his tongue, ready to give the excuse to someone who asked the inevitable question. Right, you're not gonna fall for that.  

“Um. Okay.” 

Spencer clicks the pen twice before you settle beside him, perching your hip against the table. His tongue travels across his lips slowly, he's trying to focus but can't.  

You don't know the reason. It could be a thousand things given that the local police you were working with have not been exactly welcoming to the FBI butting in on their case. Some cops acted hostile towards the team, but it was nothing you couldn't handle.  

By handling it you meant switching your focus to something better: Reid. You both draw limits to be around each other. It's nothing personal (maybe?) but you just don't get along as you do with the rest of the team. That doesn't mean you don't work well together in the field, no. In 80% of field work, you have Spencer by your side exchanging ideas to come up with good conclusions. The other 20% is the time apart you require to breathe away from each other.  

You don't hate him. If anyone hates Spencer Reid, they just might have to do a CT scan, that man doesn't have a single bad bone in his skinny body.  

You, however, have a field day while annoying him. Though you're not particularly close, you throw harmless jabs at one another once in a while.  

You are bored and Spencer is here, therefore... 

“I'm not angry.” His tone is final as he lets his eyes fall on you to look back to the board. The crease between his brows deepens. You tilt your head curiously. You don't really care about what got him mad, though it is an interesting fact to see him actually pissed about something. It's a rare image. “Not angry at all.” 

You kick his converse playfully, standing up fully. “I said okay, honey. You don't need to jump on my neck for it.” 

Spencer rolls his eyes, clicking the pen three times this time. You watch his fingers clenching and unclenching around the pen.  

“Don't call me honey.”  

Blinking up at him innocently, you turn around and say, “sure, honey. I'm gonna go and grab some coffee.” You raise your index finger before leaving the room, interrupting him mid-speech. “For me only, of course.” 

His mug was empty, you had seen as you walked into the room. He had dawned three of those already so of course you said that because you care about his health. Obviously. His scoff as you leave is the icing on the cake. 

By the time he finishes the geographic profile, he finds his mug magically refilled with freshly brewed coffee. 

━━━━━━━━━ 

[The Ambulance] 

“If you had listened to me—” 

“Don't you even fucking start. I have a gash on my forehead. My arm is numb and my knee is throbbing. You really think is wise to come in here and tell me I told you so? Disappear from my sight, now.” 

Those words seem to go on deaf ears because he proceeds to crouch down to survey the damage on your face the paramedic is already assessing. His gaze barely falling on yours until it fixates on your head injury, amber eyes narrowing slightly as they usually did while he is concentrated and is about to sputter out some incredibly intelligent fact.  

He does exactly that.  

“She should have an X-ray of her neck. She's been flinching every time you're turning her head. And a CT scan, she was also hit in the head with a—” 

You groan, not sure if it is because of the stitches or just deep-rooted anger towards your coworker.  

“God— can you please...” You give a begging look to the paramedic, who seems to be having too much fun by the lifted corners of her mouth. 

“— blunt object. Actually, you should be kept for observation for the entire night. Two days if possible.” He glances up at you, who presses your eyes shut instead of glaring, uncomfortable with the way the paramedic touches the sensitive spot on your neck. When you open them again, he's offering her a look of victory. 

“Shut up, Reid.” 

“It's a good idea.” The woman says for your distaste. Of course it is. Of course you agree with him. 

“No, it isn't. I have a flight to catch to get back home and sleep on my comfortable bed, I do not need hospitals or needles or blood.” You intervene, mentally dreading to spend the night alone at a hospital in a city you have never visited. 

“Do you have space for one more?” He questions suddenly, eyeing the inside of the ambulance. Your eyes widen at the implications of his actions. Before you have the chance to smash his head against the floor, he has already climbed into the ambulance, sitting comfortably in a corner.  

You stare in disbelief. The paramedic isn't hiding her amusement anymore. she's outright laughing. 

“Him? Not coming,” you say with finality, aggressively climbing into the ambulance, limping, to lie down on the stretcher.  

However, he does come, rubbing in your face the whole way to the hospital about how right he was about the situation and that you shouldn't throw yourself in danger at any chance you get.  

Hypocrite, as if he didn't do the same thing. 

━━━━━━━━━ 

[The Book] 

“Did you just skip to the end?” Spencer's voice laces with disbelief as he stares holes into the book between your fingers as if you have committed a heinous crime.  

You glance up from him and back to the book briefly. “No?” 

“You're an FBI Agent, you should know by now not to answer a question with a question.” 

“You're an FBI Agent with three PhDs, you should know by now how rude it is to interrupt one's reading.” You send the jab as quick as he had thrown his, rolling your eyes. 

“That doesn't apply if you're skipping to the end of the book—” 

You sigh, tired. “I have to see if the process is worth it.” 

“What?” Spencer shrieks out, switching his gaze from the book to you repeatedly. You press your lips shut, trying to suppress a smile. “What is that supposed to mean? You're supposed to enjoy and get surprised, not know everything—” 

“I'll forget about the end if I start reading it.” Which is true, if you read one part of the story without the context from the previous pages, then your mind just wipes it out as you come back to where you were. You had a bad memory of story plots. 

Spencer proceeds to get more offended by each word that comes out of your mouth. 

“No.” 

You let yourself chuckle this time. “What do you mean—hey!” You hiss as he yanks the book out of your hands, shutting it and hiding it behind him as some kid that's trying to hide his favorite toy so others won't find it. “Give it back, Spencer!” 

“You have to promise me to not read the end.” 

“I don't have to promise you anything.” 

“You want this back?” He waves the book in his hands. Your book. He threatens you with your book. 

You gape at him, then huff petulantly, crossing your arms like a toddler. To anyone who was watching, the both of you looked a lot like children bickering in the park. “Fine.” He offers you a skeptical gaze, narrowing his eyes with a slight scrunch of his nose and you can't help your reaction, really. Your lips twitch in a smile and you bite your cheek so hard it draws blood so you stop being stupid.  

He gives you your book back and pointedly studies your figure as you read, making sure you do not, in fact, skip to the end of the book. 

Spencer Reid is absolutely infuriating. No matter how cute he is. 

━━━━━━━━━ 

[The Drunk Confession] 

“I would've gotten a divorce if you were my secret lover.” You tell Emily with a slurred speech caused by the seven shots and two margaritas — maybe three, you stopped counting at the fourth shot. The table erupts in laughter at your claim. “No doubt.” 

Emily smirks at you, leaning as close as she can across from you, Luke is watching the exchange as if on a tennis match. Garcia slaps his shoulder.  

“Every. Time.” JJ mumbles with a roll of her eyes, turning to Spencer who looks bored out of his mind. “Don't you get tired of seeing them flirting every time they get drunk? It's getting old.” 

Spencer shrugs, a scowl setting on his face as he glances at you and Emily. He looks away.  

“Just ask her out, for god's sake.”  

JJ almost spits her drink. “What?”  

Spencer rolls his eyes, “you. Emily. Date. Do it.” He doesn't really feel like repeating himself again. Spencer doesn't know why he's so annoyed all of a sudden. 

“Well, why don't you do it?” JJ snaps, narrowing her eyes at him, who blinks at her. “Yeah, ask her out instead of judging me like that.” 

“No offense, but I don't see Emily that way.” 

“Of course you don't and I'm not talking about Emily, Spencer,” JJ says pointedly. “You know I'm not.” 

It doesn't take long for all of you to call it a night. The sober ones, at least, because the rest could stay until the morning without complaining, driving themselves to an alcoholic coma. That would have been your case. Fortunately, it isn't.  

And now, Spencer is in charge of driving you home against his will because you live close by.  

Great.  

“I can put on my own seatbelt, thanks.” You frown as he lifts his hand to help you put the seatbelt on. He retracts it with a roll of eyes.  

“Be my guest.” 

“Yeah,” you mumble quietly, leaning your head back and closing your eyes as you feel the car being turned on. “Don't worry, m' not gonna puke in your car or whatever.” 

Spencer freezes on his way to changing gears. “Are you feeling sick?” 

“I just told you—” 

He rolls his eyes, “I just meant that driving may make it worse, so if you want, we can wait and then I'll take you home.”  

You open one eye to narrow him down suspiciously. It wasn't that bad. You just had drink a lot, and your body is having a completely normal reaction, though it was a bit annoying. But you don't think you're about to throw up.  

“Careful, you almost sound like you care about my well-being.” 

Spencer drove off the parking lot with a huff, “sure. If you do puke in my car I'll leave you alone in the middle of the avenue.” 

A hiccup came out at the same time as your laugh and it ended up turning into a snort, which was not that graceful and you quickly covered your mouth.  

He gave you a sideways glance and you told him to keep driving, ignoring the twitch on his lips you thought you saw. No, that was definitely not there. 

“You would never do that to me.” 

“Try me.” 

“I can't believe I had a thing for you.” 

“What?” 

He almost had the urge to hit on the brakes but controlled himself. You hummed, watching the trees move as the car drove past them in the avenue. You rolled your window down, leaning your face outside a little, scrunching your nose when droplets of rain poked your nose. 

"Oh, it's gonna rain." 

"It's already raining- what do you mean you had a thing for me? What does that mean?" 

"Are you nervous?" 

"What- No!" He shifted his attention between the road and you quickly. 

You nodded, pretending you believed him and folding your arms across your chest as you leaned back on the seat, closing the car window so you wouldn't get wet.  

“You're kinda my type, Spencer.” 

“I'm- I'm your type— what does that mean?” He insisted and you rolled your eyes with a groan, you wished you were drunker than this. 

“... pretty boy with pretty brown eyes ... smart as hell and has a questionable sense of style. C'mon. It's like you're begging me to fall in love with you." You cleared your throat. "I had a crush on you, as in the past sense." 

Spencer squinted. "You just spoke in the present tense-" 

"Yeah, I knew you were going to focus on that, leave me alone, I'm drunk." 

He pressed his lips together to avoid laughing at your expense.  

"Right." 

How come he never noticed it? He couldn't stop thinking about it.  

“Are you still thinking about it?” 

Spencer turned on your street, biting his cheek. “No.” 

“Why not?”  

He spun his neck to look at you and almost drove into the sidewalk, which made you huff out a laugh.  

“Careful, genius. You might crash us because you figure out somebody has a crush on you.” 

Spencer scoffed, turning the engine off to glance at you in disbelief. “Are you serious? You just spoke in the present tense again.” 

Shrugging, you leaned back on the seat, sideways to stare at him, a little smile playing on your lips because you were enjoying the banter too much.  

“Did I?” 

“Yes.” he frowned and his nose scrunched in the cutest way possible you just felt like biting it.  

“It started when I saw you in glasses.” You admitted, nails scratching against your jeans distractedly. “You were like a knock-off Peter Parker, just cuter and way more attractive.” 

He scowled at you but you were able to see the clear pink cheeks he had acquired upon being called attractive. You weren't lying. The biggest lie and cruelty of this world was that Spencer Reid wasn't looked at twice by girls or boys. You would've been fanning over him at high school. 

“You're mocking me,” he concluded. 

You denied with a hum from deep within your throat. “Nu-huh. I'm not.” 

His eyes analyse every micro expression of your face and you stare as he does so. His lips twitch before he speaks and your eyes fall on them. 

“We're here.” 

He chose to say instead, his brain on slow thinking mode as you stared at him like you were contemplating something in your head. 

“You want me to go?” 

Spencer blinks up at you, big brown eyes wide as a deer caught in headlights, the corner of your mouth lifts upwards slightly. 

“What do you mean? I gave you a ride.” He replied, confusedly. “Do you need help to go up to your apartment? Are you dizzy?” 

“Not dizzy.” You shifted, pulling your knees up to hold them. Shoes off ever since you entered his car. “It was just a question.” 

“Are you testing me?” 

You tilted your head, causing a few strands of your hair to be released from behind your ear as you rummaged through his glove box. A book — of course there was a book in there —, a lens cleaner spray — you wondered if he still used his glasses, just not on the field —, two hair ties — you lift a brow at that — and lastly, his license and vehicle registration — you smile at the picture. He snatched it out of your hand to pull it back on the glove box and close it.  

“Why would I be testing you?” 

“To make fun of me.” 

Your eyes narrowed in slits.  

“I don't like making fun of people, less alone you.” 

Spencer held your stare for a hot second before he leaned back on his seat with a sigh.  

You poked his hip, laughing when he jumped in surprise.  

“You're so cute.” 

“Stop that.” 

“Calling you cute or tickling you?” 

“Both!” He shrieked out, holding your hand as you attempted to tickle him again. You adjusted yourself on the seat, studying the way he seemed intrigued by your hand. Or the fact he hadn't let go of it. “I can help you up to your apartment, ” he said after a moment of silence, something stirring in his stomach at the way you were looking at him.  

"You want to help me up to my apartment?" Now you are just riling him up for the sake of it. You hold his hand before he can let go of yours, a smirk dancing around your lips. "Sorry, I'll stop." 

"You're so annoying,"  

"You think so?" Your voice is low, careful. You lean forward slightly. 

"Yes," he says with uncertainty. He lifts his other hand slowly, brushing your hair behind your ear because it kept falling on your cheek.  

Your throat feels dry all of a sudden, and you swallow hard, shivering as his fingers trail down your cheek. "Spencer." 

"Mhm?" He's not paying attention to what you're saying, too busy entranced by your lips to do anything else. You just wish he'd pull both of you out of your misery. Since he doesn't move, you take matters into your own hands and break the gap between the two of you. His breath halts and he takes one or two seconds to reciprocate the kiss, lips parting in surprise. You bask in the effect that you have on him before he pulls you in by the back of your neck and it's your turn to react surprised by his actions. Your back arches and a sound of contentment escapes your throat when his fingers press against your thigh.  

You're straddling his lap in no time, his hands all over your body. You lower your lips to his neck, nibbling at his skin, satisfied with the moan he lets out in response to your touch.  

Spencer says your name once. Twice. It's the third time that you actually hear him.  

"What?" 

"You're drunk," he breathes out, chest going up and down unsteadily. "We should- we should stop." 

"I'm not drunk." You tilt your head, tracing his swollen lower lip with your thumb.  

He chuckles nervously, grabbing your hands to pull it away from his neck and his neck so he could think straight for five minutes. "You are. You taste like tequila." 

"Mhm, is that so?" 

He groans, eyes dropping shut. "Don't do that." 

Your smile widens into a menacing grin.  

"Do what, genius?" 

"This. You. You know what you're doing." Spencer insists half-heartedly, eyes fluttering open to stare at you. He can't help but stare down at your lips again, letting out a sigh.  

Finally, your shoulders slump in dissatisfaction as you realize he wouldn't want to go forward as long as you have an ounce of alcohol in your blood.  

"Who's annoying now?" You mumble, burying your head on his shoulders. His fingers trail up and down your bare arms, his hands then settle on your hip, drawing invisible circles there. You feel his lips press against the crown of your head. "You're gonna be the death of me," you whine, wrapping both arms around his middle. Spencer shakes with a chuckle and you smile into his skin.  

There is no going back from this. You either screwed up your professional relationship or just initiated something really good.  

You don't know which one is worse. 

He goes up to your floor with you and you expect him to say goodbye as you step out of the elevator. He follows you to your door and finds the key in your purse that you had spent more than a minute trying to find it.  

"You want to stay over?" You eye him, trying to sound nonchalant but in reality, you are expecting a yes.  

It's not what you get. 

"No." You conclude you screwed up your whole dynamic. He holds your wrist before you walk in and leave him in the hallway, pulling you back and cupping your cheek to press his lips to yours in a rather gentle and less frantic kiss than the ones you had just shared in the car. "Ask me when you're not drunk," he mumbles into your lips and you frown when he withdraws himself from you.  

You understand his reasoning, but that doesn't mean you enjoy the thought of spending the night without him, finishing what you started.  

"Will you want to stay over then?" 

Spencer knows what you mean. You're asking if he will want to stay over after tonight, after the moment has passed and it's another day, or if he wants to forget and pretend it never happened.  

"Yes." He doesn't hesitate, kissing your forehead before he takes a step back, ready to leave but not wanting to with the image of you leaning against your doorway, face slightly flushed after your make-out session. "Goodnight." 

You munch on your lower lip, opening the door to go inside. He waits for you to close it but you walk out again, his eyes widening as you pull him into another kiss. Just as he's about to place his hands on your waist, you pull back, patting his chest.  

"You're still annoying." You say, stepping back to enter your apartment, leaving him completely unresponsive in the middle of your hallway for a few minutes.  

God, he hates you.  

━━━━━━━━━ 

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