#god spencer is so cute when he infodumps

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Babe, I was thinking about our pretty boy Spence, being all clingy and needy after spending weeks on a case. I can see him not letting you out of his hugs even if it's late, even if you guys are yet to cook the god damn dinner.

Also I miss ur old user suddenly @gettingrailedbyreid you're being missed </3

a/n: urgh, it was so iconic, i lowkey miss it too.

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

“Spencer,” you murmured beneath his embrace, still frozen where he had tackled you onto the brown leather couch, “you gotta move,” your stomach growled as you tapped your hands against his waist in a polite plea for him to let go of you, “if I don’t get up and make dinner now then we’ll both starve to death.”

“We won’t starve,” his hold stayed fast, “it takes at least 3 to 5 days for that to happen, but if you still drink water, then it can be up to 3-”

“Spencer!” his usual infodump seemed less cute when you were this hungry.  

Pulling back just a tad, he blinked down at you with those big, warm eyes, “can’t we just order a pizza? I feel like if I let go of you now then the phone will just ring and then I’ll be swept away on another never-ending case that’s long enough that I begin to forget you completely…”

Exhaling slowly, “baby…” you pulled him back in, “that’s not gonna happen.”

“I’ll forget your voice first, then everything else, till every little detail about you has faded away as if you were just a dream…”

Palm running up and down his long spine, your head rotated, spotting the phone left on the coffee table, “…so, what kind of toppings are you in the mood for?”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[trans-reader-fics]

Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice: Criminal Minds(Boys) x Reader (they/them) - Bakery Headcanons!

TW/CW: Food, spoilers for s5 (in the Hotch part), super mild swearing (uncensored)

Summary: Just some bullet pointed little thoughts about you being the owner of a bakery. Because I want to be in a bakery AU. Who wouldn’t? Admittedly this is much more coffee shop than I had planned, but oopsie. As for the Spencer part, one of my interests is Greek mythology, so I inserted that. 

**This is just the BAU boys, the post with the girls is here!

————————————–

Aaron Hotchner

He started to drop by after Haley died. He needed something to look forward to; a weekly coffee and muffin did the trick.

He takes his coffee black, with one sugar, and he always gets a muffin. Most weeks, he would get a fruit muffin, but he wouldn’t complain if they only had chocolate chip ones.

He first started to notice you in the spring. The air smelled sweet, sweeter than usual, as he walked in. You turned with a grin, promising to help him as soon as you got the croissants out of the oven. All he could do was stand there, smile, and nod.

“Sorry about that,” your voice was smooth as honey, and your demeanor was just as sweet. “So, what’ll it be?” Hotch almost forgot his own name when you asked for it.

He started coming around to the bakery more often after that. The two of you became friends, since he always came early. You would hear the door jingle at the crack of dawn, and immediately start pouring a black coffee with one sugar.

He stumbled in one afternoon, surprising your crowd of high schoolers. “(y/n),” he maintained composure, despite being an anxious mess. “I’m so sorry to impose, but my regular babysitter— I’ve told you about my son, right?— had to cancel, and I just got called to work, would it be too much of a bother to ask you to pick him up from school?”

You blinked a few times before leaning across the counter to place your hand over his. “Yeah, I can do that.” You scribble your number on a napkin, handing it to him. “Text me instructions, and I’ll take care of him. Should I take him to my place or yours?” He hands you a key, clearly indicating that you’d be going to his apartment. You nodded, stepping out from behind the counter to give him a light hug. He returns it gently, before his phone rings and he backs away. You wave him off with a reminder to text you, and he runs through the door with an apologetic wave.

True to his word, he texts you the address of the school, his address, the security code to his apartment, and what time school gets out. You were thankful that your shift would be ending soon enough, and you texted your coworker to come in a little early so you could take off. “You know you’re literally my boss, right?” You laughed at their text. Technically, you were the owner of the bakery, but you didn’t like pulling the boss card.

You picked Jack up, explaining to him that his daddy is at work, and you’re there to take him home. Hotch had showed you pictures before, and he was just as cute in person. 

When the regular babysitter came, she thanked you profusely. You brushed it off, genuinely not minding. You had given Jack a muffin, and that seemed to make you his new best friend.

In a few days, when Hotch next came into your bakery, he seemed calmer. He thanked you for watching Jack, and when you insisted that it wasn’t a big deal, he offered to take you out to dinner. 

“As a thank you?” You quirked your eyebrow. “Sounds like a date to me, Aaron.” His face flushed for a moment before he regained composure.

“If you want it to be a date, then it is. Does Sunday at 7 work?” He asked, and you nodded. “Then it’s a date.”

————————————–

Derek Morgan

He first came to the bakery for the cheap but drinkable coffee. You knew he was an FBI agent from the copious jokes about how bad the bureau coffee is. 

He always calls you sunshine. Without fail, he’d come in a few times a week at around 8 in the morning with a “hey sunshine” and a cocky smile. You’d pour him his coffee-- black, with a little milk and sugar-- and slid it across the counter. He always tipped, usually two dollars, but on occasion, he’d give you a bit extra. 

He was endearing. You found yourself starting to get excited about hearing his voice. You would never admit it, but you started to tease back. He’d come in with his “hey sunshine” and you’d retort back with “hey hot stuff,” or whatever witty compliment you came up with first.

He came in with a blonde girl once. She was covered in colors, and he called her baby girl. She got a sweet drink, you recalled. Mostly, you remembered the way he looked at her. They were close. Hell, he called her baby girl. 

He whispered something as he took the coffees from the counter. “We’re just friends. Nothing more, sunshine.” He almost looked nervous. Apologetic, even.

He kept coming in after that. Never bringing another person with him. Occasionally, he’d get a second coffee, usually something sweet, and you’d feel yourself getting jealous.

Jealous. You didn’t like it. You kept telling yourself that he was just a customer, he was only flirting because there’d be no real responsibility to it, no commitment. 

But you flirted back.

One day, he slipped a business card in with your tips. Call me, it had written on it.

Well, he asked. And besides, maybe it would be nice to hear that “hey sunshine” at times other than eight in the morning.

————————————–

Spencer Reid

He absolutely loves your bakery. He loves it. It’s always warm and smells like home, and you don’t force people to leave once they’ve ordered. He’d sit in your window nook for hours writing papers and sipping his extra sugary mochas. Occasionally, he’d ask you to recommend him drinks and he’d ramble on about the origins.

Since he sometimes spent ages in the shop, when he was the only one left, you struck up conversation. “Hey, Spencer?” you called hesitantly, not wanting to bother him. His head shot up, but he didn’t look mad, so you continued. “Hey, I just slightly overcooked this batch of cupcakes. Want to try one and see if it’s still edible?” You looked embarrassed— you were embarrassed— but he stood up joyfully.

He deemed them safe to serve, as long as you scraped the particularly browned parts off of the top. “They’ll be covered in frosting anyways,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Hey, did you know the first recorded cupcake was written about in 1828? It’s in Eliza Simmons’s cookbook, titled ‘Seventy-Five Receipts for Pastry, Cakes, and Sweetmeats.’ Before that, the idea of a cupcake came from ‘American Cookery’ by Amelia Simmons, written in 1796, but she called it a ‘light cake to bake in small cups.’” He rambled, pausing to look up at you, his face a light shade of pink. “Sorry, I’ve been told that I ramble.”

You grinned, looking up from your frosting. “I don’t mind! I do it too, don’t worry. Tell me when you’re done, then it’s my turn.” His eyes lit up, and he continued.

“And the concept of icing stems back to roughly 1600, where cakes would be covered in sugar then baked, and it would make a hard coating. Like ice. Although it wasn’t used as a noun until 1683. And frosting comes from around 1750. Okay, your turn now.” He looked at you excitedly, watching you pipe pink swirls onto your definitely-not-burnt cupcakes.

“Have you heard of Plato’s origin of soulmates?” You glanced up, brushing your hair out of your face with the back of your hand. You saw him perk up slightly, showing that he recognized it, but he knew that you were about to tell him anyways. “Okay, well, this may not be word for word, but I like it. The idea is that the gods originally created humans with double the limbs. When they saw the potential strength of these early humans, Zeus separated them down the middle, reducing them to what we look like now. Besides the fact that we’re literally half as strong, we’re also distracted. We want to find that other half of ourselves. Our soulmate.” You finished your cupcakes, gingerly placing them in the display case.

He was a brighter shade of pink when you looked back up at him. “Speaking of other halves,” he mumbled. “Would you want to maybe meet up sometime? Like, when you’re not working. I have this old copy of The Odyssey-- and some Euripides too-- at my apartment and if you’re interested I could read it to you, but only if you want to. And it’s no big deal if you don’t-” You cut him off by handing him another sugary coffee. Instead of his name, however, there’s just a phone number.

“It’s mine,” you grinned. “Text me. I’d love to listen to you read some classics.”

[spencermyangel]

A fluffy thing where Spencer infodumps to Morgan and he’s really sweet and engaged with it?

CW - Mention of Suicide and Depression

“Morgan!” Spencer called over as he ran across the bullpen, clutching his messenger bag.

“Wow, Slow down, Pretty boy,” Morgan chuckled as he studied Spencer’s ruffled appearance, “What’s got you so excited?” 

A huge smile broke out on Spencer’s face, he began flapping his hands and bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I was at a used book store, and they had an antique Anne of Green Gables book set,” Spencer excitedly told him, reaching into his bag and pulling out the first book. Morgan had to admit it was quite beautiful. Green and leather bound with gold designs of flowers and leaves. 

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Morgan offered, setting his files aside, “I just finished these, and I’m sure Hotch won’t mind if we take a break.” 

A huge smile broke out on Spencer’s face as he nodded and pulled up a chair, “I love Anne of Green Gables so much. You know in Cavendish, Prince Edward Island, they have an Avonlea village. I’d love to go and visit one day.”

“Well, maybe We’ll have to go together,” Morgan told him, smiling at how happy Spencer was. 

“Really?” Spencer asked as his eyes lit up.

“Of course.”

“Did you know that Mark Twain described Anne as the dearest, most loveable child in fiction since the immortal Alice?”

“I didn’t, that’s interesting,” Morgan responded. 

Spencer nodded, “My favourite filmed version is 1985 movie, it’s so sweet and cute,” Spencer rambled on. 

“How about I come and watch it with you later?” Morgan offered.

Spencer’s hand began flapping rapidly and his smile seemed to grow even bigger as his eyes sparkled, “Really? Do you want to?” 

“Of course, it’s got to be good if you like it so much.”

Spencer blushed and ducked his head, “The saddest part is when Matthew dies,” he continued, “L.M. Montgomery said she regretted writing it and that if she rewrote it, she would let Matthew live many more years.” 

“Wow,” Morgan said, “I wonder if there are a lot of authors who regret making a big decision in their writing.” 

“I imagine there are,” Spencer replied, and then paused. “L.M. Montgomery’s family revealed that she suffered from depression and they believed she died by sucide, as they found a letter by her bedside after she died that said, ‘ May God forgive me and I hope everyone else will forgive me even if they cannot understand. My position is too awful to endure and nobody realizes it.’ Her granddaughter said she decided to reveal the family secret to help reduce the stigma on mental health issues.” 

“That’s sad,” Morgan said, “but I hope revealing it did help with the stigma.”

“Me too,” Spencer agreed. He then went on to inform Morgan of many more Anne of Green Gables facts, Morgan happily listening.

A/N - Me info-dumping through Spencer. I love Anne of Green Gables so much, I don't like the TV show though, no offence to anyone who does. I also want the book set so bad but it's 800 CAD, here's a picture

Send in asks and requests here

Masterlist

Reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated :)

[spencersweetie]

Coincidence (Spencer x GN!Reader Onseshot)

Category: Fluff

Summary: Spencer and Reader accidentally have a museum date when they run into each other. 

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: none <3

----------------------------------------------------------

“Y/N!” A familiar voice called your name. You turned around and faced a familiar man whom you’d met through your friend Penelope. Spencer stood smiling at you with his hands in his pockets. He energetically waved at you.

You grinned back at him. “Hey Spencer! What a crazy coincidence, us both being here at the same time.” You had spontaneously decided to visit the National Gallery of Art since you had a free day to yourself over the weekend.

“Totally!” He responded. “I’m supposed to have the whole weekend off so I thought I’d revisit the gallery. How are you?”

“I’m alright! You’re revisiting? How many times have you been here? This is my first time seeing the gallery.” You had been to other art museums in Maryland but never the National Gallery of Art since you had recently moved to D.C. a year ago.

Spencer chuckled lightly. “This would be my ninth time coming here. I saw the gallery for the first time when I was nine years old  and couldn’t keep myself away from this place.

“Wow!” You exclaimed. “I don’t blame you, I’ve only seen the sculpture garden and the first few pieces in this wing so far and everything is gorgeous; I’m in love already.”

“You know what, I’ve got the building memorized!” Spencer eagerly informed you. “If you want, I could be your personal guide and show you the best parts of each exhibit and take you on the most efficient path through the museum! I mean, you don’t have to say yes, it’s up to you.”

“Spencer, that’d be awesome, I’ll totally tag along if you’re cool with that!” You beamed at him, trying to hide your excitement. You usually went on trips like these alone so it was nice to have someone who could enjoy the same thing as you by your side.

“Great, let’s go!” Spencer turned and gestured towards the next exhibit.

------------------------------------------------------------

As you and Spencer explored the museum together, you noticed how abnormally comfortable you felt around him. You two had never hung out without Penelope so this was a first for you both. Even without your mutual friend, you found that Spencer was both easy to listen to and easy to talk to. He of course knew a lot about the art in the gallery and thoroughly explained each piece to you but you appreciated that he never talked to you like you were dumb or lesser than him. He regularly asked if you were okay with his infodumps as well, which you completely didn’t mind. You could tell that he undoubtedly had a passion for the arts, and you liked that he was so enthusiastic to share that with you.

While you did certainly find Spencer’s interesting facts to be intriguing, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander as you looked at him from the side. He didn’t notice your looking as he faced the painting while he talked to you, completely occupied by the piece that was on the wall in front of him. You liked the way he spoke about the art that he showed you. Spencer was very animated, clearly demonstrating his excitement about whatever he was explaining in the movement of his hands. His face was quite expressive too. His eyebrows rose and fell as he talked and his eyes squinted and widened as he conversed with you. You hadn’t noticed how pretty Spencer’s eyes were until now, how his irises were brown but with little gold specks on the inside. You liked that when he wrinkled his nose in the middle of a sentence, his scrunch reached the top of his nose bridge between his eyes. His nose was a nice nose, you thought. It enhanced his side profile and turned slightly upwards when he smiled too. And his lips. Today you noticed that his lips were quite… pink. And full. And plump. You had to catch yourself when your eyes traveled down from Spencer’s eyes to his mouth when he spoke, then hope that he didn’t notice your distraction. You just liked that way he smiled, that’s all, you told yourself. He often kept his smile as he talked and continued to smile when you spoke to him too. You liked the way his lips puckered when his smile grew bigger as he finished his sentences. It seemed like an uncontrollable habit of his-

“Y/N?” Spencer interrupted your thoughts. He looked at you with his brows slightly raised.

“Hm, yeah?” Your mind snapped back to the present moment. “I’m sorry, could you say that again?”

“Are you okay? Am I boring you? We could stop here if you want!”

“No, Spencer- it’s fine!” You jumped to explain. “You’re good, I promise! I’m not bored, I just got lost in my thoughts for a second. Um, the only da Vinci painting in the U.S. right? Is this one here?” 

“Exactly!” Spencer lit up and straightened his posture. “Da Vinci painted less than 20 oil paintings throughout his career; this one was bought for $5 million and arrived in D.C. in 1969!”

“Damn!” You exclaimed. “So that makes this portrait like, the Mona Lisa of the National Gallery, huh?”

“Absolutely!” Spencer agreed with you. “The gallery has other Da Vinci pieces displayed but none that are as rare and valuable as an oil painting of his. This one, Ginerva de’ Benci, is a portrait of a daughter of a banker, most likely commissioned when she was about 16 and just engaged. You know, the juniper bush is what’s in the background. Juniper represents chastity which was one of the most significant traits of a woman in the Renaissance era. It’s kind of a subtle little pun, including the juniper plant, because in Italian the plant is called ginepro.”

“Oh! Ginepro, Ginerva! That’s so cute, I love it!” You told him. “I like how there’s like no fancy jewelry or finery on her in this portrait too. It’s different from the Renaissance portraits of the other ladies that we saw.”

“Yeah, it’s a little bit of a surprise when it comes to a portrait like this that she isn’t completely dressed up! It doesn’t reveal her family’s wealth like portraits commonly do. I love that you noticed that.” Spencer’s lips turned at the corners in appreciation of your attention to detail. “Let’s move onto the next one!”

------------------------------------------------------------

You and Spencer moved on through the exhibit, then through the rest of the museum. You two enjoyed each other’s company for the day and were able to see all the art in three hours. As you exited, you found yourself laughing as you and Spencer recalled the events of the day. “I still can’t believe they kept trying to pay you for a private tour even after you insisted you weren’t a museum tour guide!” You laughed into your hand which was clapped over your mouth, trying not to draw attention to you and Spencer. 

“Shut up!” Spencer jokingly rolled his eyes at you. “I hate that they were gathered around me too, attracting a crowd while trying to hand me money. I don’t even wear a uniform like the other employees!” Spencer cracked up along with you, shaking as he pictured himself standing next to you, explaining to a group of strangers that he was just visiting with a friend, not working for the gallery.

You shrieked with laughter, uncontrollably gasping for air as you tried to calm yourself. “Then when they said they would call the gallery and get you fired for denying customers!” Tears were coming out of your eyes from being unable to stop laughing. “And you just went ‘Okay!’ and walked off without me!” You missed a step and tripped, grabbing Spencer’s arm as you fell into him.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You were half still dying from laughing and half freaking out from your mistake. “I didn’t mean to grab you, I know you’ve got a germ thing! I think I just got a little carried away and wasn’t careful enough to watch my step!” You frantically apologized to Spencer. “Are you okay?”

Spencer grinned at you and dusted you off on your shoulders. “Relax, Y/N. I know you’re not germy; I’m not gonna freak out if you touch me. And I’m fine, you’re the one who fell!” He reassured you. “Are you okay? Do you need a second? You’re pink in the face, I don’t know if from laughing or from tripping on the step.”

“I’m fine, I’m good! Thank you Spencer.” You replied, still hot around your face. “Let’s just get out of here before I start to laugh and embarrass myself again.” You chuckled. “Are you free for the rest of the day? We could get something to eat if you’re hungry!” 

Spencer smiled at you. “Yeah, I’m free! Do you like Indian? There’s this new place that’s about 10 minutes from here-”

A loud ringing cut his sentence off. Spencer sighed and apologetically looked at you before whipping his cell phone out of his pocket. “Yeah?” He spoke into the phone.

He listened for a few seconds before speaking. “I’m in D.C. but I’ll be there as soon as possible. Thanks, Penelope.” Spencer hung up and shoved his phone back into his coat.

“Got a case?” You asked.

“Yeah. I’m so sorry, Y/N, I know we were supposed to-”

“Spence!” You stopped him. “You don’t have to apologize, we didn’t even plan on hanging out today!”

Spencer’s eyes softened; he expected you to express disappointment before anything else and was surprised that you were understanding instead. He smiled and nodded. “Okay, but we could still check out the new Indian place another time, yeah?”

You felt butterflies in your stomach emerging. “Of course. Thank you for today, Spencer. I had an amazing time.”

“Me too, Y/N. I’ll text you when we get back!” 

-----------------------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading! Feel free to comment your thoughts or send anon feedback, anything is appreciated <33

[sasarahsunshine]

hey congrats! do you think you could do 📝( the blurb) for moreid where it’s their first kiss and spence says prompt 40 (“are you implying that you want to kiss me?”) and derek ig after the kiss says prompt 8 (“god, your lips are so soft”)? does that make sense? i apologies if it doesn’t! thanks!!

Hehe, yes anon, it makes sense! Also thank you so much for the prompt, this one is so cute and fun omg <333

Pairing: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid

Warnings: Mention of a case but like, no details. Just fluff! And kisses hehe.

Also on AO3.

The first time Derek Morgan noticed there might be a little more than friendship between himself and Spencer Reid was after a hard case.

He always knew he loved Reid; the kid was special to him. He was overly protective of the lanky young man who was always stumbling headfirst into trouble— as much as that terrified the entire team. Reid had a knack for bumping into things, tripping over his own two feet, and taking off his freaking Kevlar vest when Morgan told him to keep the damn thing on!

It wasn’t uncommon for Morgan to notice bruises and bandaids on Reid’s hands and arms. He was, again, always knocking into things. Whether his own desk, a doorframe, or one time he walked right into the drivers side door that Hotch just opened. Morgan tried not to laugh as the kid groaned and rubbed the bump forming on his forehead. Penelope once compared him to a newborn foal. “All legs and no balance.”

But the day Morgan realized there might be some attraction in the mix of emotions he had for Reid, he was watching the kid sleep on the jet. The victim didn’t make it, which happens sometimes. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, but Reid was taking it harder than everyone else. He always did.

Morgan’s music had stopped playing a while ago, but he didn’t seem to notice, his eyes too busy studying the way Reid’s chest rose and fell with even breaths. How his eyelashes rested upon his rosy cheeks, fluttering every once in a while as he dreamed. How his lips were a naturally pretty shade of pink.

He blinked, adjusting in his seat. When had his feelings shifted for Reid? It couldn’t have happened suddenly, but that’s what it felt like. It was like cold water was thrown onto his heated body, shocking his system with the realization that he didn’t just love the younger man— he was in love with him.

A few months had passed and Morgan tried so freaking hard to pretend everything was normal, was the same. Because he would never dare ruin the special bond he had with Reid over something as trivial as wanting to kiss him— well okay, he wanted to do so much more than kiss him— but still.

The team had decided to go out to O’keefe’s after a long week of paperwork. It was nice to go out without a real reason every once in a while. Emily was the one who convinced Reid to come out, and for that Morgan was thankful.

Because now Reid was two drinks in, his cheeks and nose flushed rosy red from the buzz in his alcohol, his eyes shimmering as he laughed at the joke Penelope just told. God he was gorgeous. The prettiest damn boy Morgan had ever laid his eyes on.

He couldn’t stop staring at Reid’s lips throughout the night. The genius had a habit of biting his bottom lip when he was thinking, or trying to hold back a quip or the need to infodump. Said bottom lip was now a little swollen and pink from the biting he had been doing and God was it doing something to Morgan. He was finding it harder and harder to focus on the conversations happening around him. All he could think about was how sweet his Pretty Boy’s lips must taste.

“Morgan?”

He blinked, glancing at Emily who was just smirking at him from over her glass. “You seem to be somewhere else tonight, big guy. What’s on your mind?”

He felt the pleasant warmth of his own buzz tingling throughout his bloodstream. It wasn’t enough to make him spill his innermost thoughts, however. He shot her a smirk in return as he held his own drink to his lips, “I couldn’t help but notice how late it’s getting. Might have to get myself on that dance floor before it’s closing time.”

Penelope squealed and shot out of her seat, reaching for his hand, “Come on my brown sugar daddy! I’ve been waiting all night for you to ask me to dance!”

He chuckled and finished his drink before taking her perfectly manicured hand, “As you wish, mama.” As much as he’d rather be holding Reid’s hand, he knew he owed Penelope at least one (or five) dances.

As the night got longer, hotter, and a bit more sweaty than Morgan had expected, he collapsed back in his chair with a laugh. His mouth tasted like sweet rum, and his brain was swimming in warmth and tingles. At some point Penelope had disappeared but he wasn’t sure where to. He was panting a little from the intensity that she forced him to dance.

Reid was eyeing him, a small smile on his lips. “Are you having fun?”

Morgan turned his attention to him, his eyes flickering over Reid’s face before meeting his gaze. Reid had to have another drink while he was dancing, for his face was more flushed than before. And he looked relaxed; something that Dr. Spencer Reid often didn’t have the time to be.

“I am,” Morgan agreed as he leaned towards his colleague, his best friend, his soulmate. His heart was pounding in his ears, his stomach doing small flips as he moved his chair into Reid’s personal space. He heard Reid inhale sharply, the young man’s eyebrows knitting together curiously. Morgan continued, his eyes once again flitting to Reid’s lips for a split second, “I think i might want to order another drink. How about you?”

Reid cleared his throat, his fingers drumming on his empty glass. “Maybe.”

“What did you have?”

“Something fruity. You probably wouldn’t have liked it,” Reid joked, laughing to himself, “It’s not a manly drink, by any means.”

“I don’t know,” Morgan eased himself a little closer, a lazy smile gracing his lips, “You should let me have a taste and then I’ll decide for myself.”

Reid blinked in surprise. If it were possible, his face seemed to grow redder, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. Morgan knew that Reid wasn’t very good at picking up certain social cues, but he hoped that maybe he’d understand the hint. And if he didn’t? Then Morgan could pretend this never happened and they’d go back to being friends. No harm no foul.

“Are you implying that you want to kiss me?” Reid asked after a beat, his large brown eyes looking almost.. hopeful? Morgan swallowed thickly, his stomach filling with butterflies. God, he felt like a love struck teenager.

“I am, pretty boy,” he breathed, tasting the alcohol from earlier on his tongue, “if that’s something you want?”

It was Morgan’s turn to be surprised, as his Pretty Boy, his lanky little newborn foal who was always clumsy and getting hurt, had enough grace and strength to grab him by the collar and pull the two of the closer, their lips meeting in a hesitant kiss. It took a beat longer than he meant it to before Morgan’s brain caught up with his body, his hands shooting to the sides of Reid’s face and holding him there, tasting strawberries and peaches on his lips.

God, he was just as sweet as he imagined. Moreso. Perfect. Delicate. Morgan’s heart was racing a million miles a minute as his thoughts grew quiet, the only thing in the world right being him and his pretty boy.

From somewhere outside of their bubble he heard Emily say, “Finally,” but he ignored her. He felt Reid go to pull back, but his hands held him still, deepening the kiss.

It wasn’t exactly fireworks and fairy dust, because it was better. It was warmth and love and meaningful. Reid’s hands on his shoulders, his lips parting just enough that he could taste alcohol and fruit and sugar and everything that made Spencer Reid sweet.

Morgan finally pulled away, breathing heavily, swallowing. Reid’s pupils were blown, his lips more swollen now than he had ever seen them. He couldn’t help but chuckle, his thumbs tracing over the sharp cheekbones of his pretty boy. Reid just stared at him, panting.

Finally, Morgan spoke, “God, your lips are so soft.”

Reid’s lips quirked into a smile, his hands reaching up to cover Morgan’s, “I’ve been waiting for you to do that for months now”

“Months?”

Reid nodded, exhaling as his smile grew, “Yeah, ever since I noticed you staring at me more.”

“I was that obvious, huh?”

“Totally obvious,” Reid laughed softly. Morgan leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his lips, “Alright then,” another kiss, “I guess,” another kiss, “I have some time,” another one, this one tugging on Reid’s lower lips teasingly, “to make up for.”

[softtransbf]

happy mlmay! for the self ship ask thingy, #9. Before dating, did either of you ever have any embarrassing moments? (Examples: Socially awkward moments, almost accidentally revealing your feelings to them, being clumsy, etc.)

happy mlmay!

oh for sure. i guess if i’m gonna pick one story to tell, it would be when we met- that whole thing was just a mess. oh, god, i really am gonna tell this story. okay.

there was a special exhibit about the journey from the space race to where astronomy is now at the big science museum in Portland. i fucking love space, so I was there first thing on the first day it was open. it was packed, but you go into the exhibit itself in groups, so it’s not crowded. really great system. anyway. i was waiting outside the exhibit hall for them to let us in, and i see who i now know were quint and spencer, but at the time, all i knew is that quint looked so fucking good. both his body and also how excited he was- i love that huge smile that he only gets around a special interest of his. 

embarrassing moment #1: he caught me staring at him. 

i immediately turned away and wanted to walk into the ocean, i felt so embarrassed. but then they let us into the exhibit, and it was so cool, i forgot about the whole thing.

And then the whole thing got very embarrassing. quint was so busy infodumping to spencer that he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going, and he ran right into me, knocking me to the ground. 

he helped me up, we introduced ourselves, and he apologized. i told him it was no big deal, because it really wasn’t.

then neither of us walked away, but also neither of us said anything. so it was this really awkward silence where we were just looking at each other. spencer then stepped in, introduced himself, and said “i think what quint is trying to telepathically communicate is that he would like to buy you a drink some time, be it coffee or something stronger, using the fact that he just knocked you over as an excuse. he also thinks you’re really cute and hopes you’d pick the latter, because it’s more clearly a date, whereas coffee could more easily be interpreted as strictly platonic.”

we met up at a bar a few days later and had drinks, and it was fun, but man that first meeting was just an embarrassing mess lmao

[trans-reader-fics]

BAU Headcanons! (1)

TW/CW: Food, mentions of unsupportive parents, super brief (uncensored) swearing.

Summary: I’ve been really busy (and will be really busy for another month), but I have some fun headcanons! There will probably be more of these short posts in the near future.

**Guesses and Sweaters part 3 is...well, I’ll start it soon. I currently have one request that’s about half done! :)

Derek listens to Taylor Swift. His sisters played it for him whenever he visited and he associates it with them. It helps him feel closer to them. However, if anyone ever found out, he’d deny it to his last breath.

JJ cannot cook. If a recipe details every single step to the letter, she can make something alright, but Will is happy to take the wheel.

Rossi is the kind of person who slams Olive Garden for being fake Italian food, but would accept Panda Express as Chinese food.

Matt seems like a corgi person. He probably dog walks for people in his neighborhood, and carries around a little bag of dog treats in his work bag.

JJ gives out free mom hugs at any and all pride parades she comes across. Hotch goes with her whenever he can, to give free dad hugs. The teenagers without supportive parents love it, and Garcia sets up a social media page for them so that they can broadcast which pride parade they’ll be at. The same kids tend to meet them every year.

Spencer is a dumb sweetheart and learns so many facts about things that people love. It’s his way of showing love.

Garcia cheats at crosswords. In her defense, she just wants to make sure she finishes it!

Hotch has a nightlight. It’s mainly for if Jack wants to climb into bed with him, but he doesn’t mind the extra visibility. It’s shaped like a toy truck.

Derek finds the sensory aspect of clothes important. He has a lot of the same shirts in different colors, because the texture is nice. And he hates online shopping because he can’t feel the fabric.

Spencer definitely feels bad when he unconsciously infodumps. He’s been told for his whole life that it’s annoying, so it’s really deeply ingrained in him.

JJ started chewing gum to cope with anxiety in high school, and never turned back. She used to prefer fruit flavors, but when she left college, she switched to mint flavors.

Rossi has a thing for vampires. He doesn’t like them. The team jokes about how he couldn’t like anyone who hates garlic, which he admits is true.

Emily can curse in so many languages. And she absolutely takes advantage of it when she isn’t supposed to be swearing. The only problem is, Spencer also knows a lot of swear words in a lot of languages, and if he feels like it, he’ll rat her out. Although he’d never do it in an actual high stakes situation, just when he feels like being a minor nuisance.

Garcia likes Pokémon. She has an organized database of all of the pokémon, their evolutions, and their stats. So she kicks ass at picking the perfect ones. Whenever she goes on cases, she winds up using Pokémon Go. She’s not out in the field often and she doesn’t enjoy it, so she finds something to cheer her up.

Rossi has a t-shirt that says ‘Team Dad’ on it. It was a joint gift from Reid, Emily, and Derek, and he doesn’t have the will to throw it out. He’ll wear it eventually, right?

Garcia’s coffee mug hoard. She has so many bright mugs that she’s gotten from thrift stores and souvenir shops, and there’s no way she’d ever need that many, but she has them.

Spencer Reid is ABSOLUTELY asexual. I have such a strong opinion on it. He always thought it was just because of his IQ, that his genetics influenced his libido. At some point, he stumbled upon “asexual” as a sexuality, and it clicked. And he knew that he wasn’t broken or weird, he was just him. He’s also biromantic— gender matters very little to him. What matters more are curiosity and kindness. He would never be able to date a bully.