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#I miss having an eidetic memory :(
obstinatecondolement · 6 months
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My sister was saying "You should write that idea for a novel about [REDACTED] that you had a while ago for NaNo. I think that could be really fun" and I was like oh yeah! I remember we got a kick out of that one. And then, after a pause, had be like... could you remind me what the plot was again? Because litearlly all I could remember was that it had been funny At The Time and involved [REDACTED].
It was like when my mum reads a book and strongly recommends it to me the day after she finishes it, but can't remember any of the characters names or what happened, but it was definitely very good and I should read it so we can talk about it!
Except this was a story I made up myself and devoted not an insignificant amount of thought to, and then never committed any of what I came up with to the page because it was still early stages and I would "remember" what my initial ideas were 🙄
#fortunately my sister did remember enough that it kickstarted my brain and I remembered#but jesus christ...#how many perfectly good ideas have I squandered because I didn't think I would forget about them?#it's one thing not ever writing stuff I had ideas for because of y'know *gestures towards my general inability to follow through on things*#but actually forgetting ideas entirely feels much worse#I miss having an eidetic memory :(#but also I kind of wish I'd never had it because I never developed the habit of writing things down to remember them#until WELL into adulthood#because I'd ever needed to for most of my life#I just remembered every single word I had ever read or heard and almost every idea I'd given more than passing thought to in perfect detail#as a child I'd get so angry about people getting single words of quotations wrong or misremembering minute details of conversations we'd ha#because I *did not understand* that they weren't just being sloppy and inexact#and that they really couldn't remember things the same way I could#I really did not understand that other people experienced the world differently to me at that age#when they contradicted what I believed to be universal truths I thought they were trying to upset me or make me feel bad about myself#like when my friend agreed with my parents that apple juice was nicer than orange juice (when no one could *really* believe that)#I fully felt that as a betrayal#and thought she was implicitly co-signing my parents to hurt me#and that the subtext of the criticism was that I was evil and self indulgent for not resisting the wicked temptations of orange juice#and never even trying to be virtuous and subject myself to apple juice#which was obviously not as nice but was the more moral and 'healthy' (which was the same things as moral) choice#oh christ this has gotten away from me...#I hate being triggered by dumb bullshit that brings me back to weird esoteric traumas from my youth#can I please stop being triggered by such embarrassingly trivial bullshit for five minutes???
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sunsetreid · 7 months
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back to school night [ s. reid ]
— part one !
part of the ‘ back to school night ‘ series
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paring : teacher!Spencer Reid x single mom!reader
summary : Spencer is your daughter’s elementary school teacher, and they finally meet at back to school night
requested : no
genre : fluff & smut
warnings : age gap (8 years), some language, explicit sexual content, slight hair pulling, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), protected sex, p in v penetration, use of some pet names
【 18+ CONTENT BELOW (minors dni !) 】
She is so late to back to school night.
This was in her calendar for the past two weeks and she managed to still be late. Her 8-year-old daughter Cassia is too preoccupied with her tablet in the back to notice just how late the two of them actually are.
Back to school night started at 7. It’s thirty minutes past the start time. (Y/N) has probably missed most of the parent meeting already. If it weren't for how excited Cassia was for her mother to finally meet her teacher, she would have happily stayed home and watched a Disney movie with her daughter.
Cassia’s father usually does drop off because the school is on the way to his work so (Y/N) has never met her daughter’s third grade teacher. Until tonight.
Being late is such a good first impression.
As soon as she finds a parking spot and turns the car engine off, (Y/N) quickly gathers her things and Cassia before rushing inside.
“Cassie, which way to your classroom?” she asks her daughter. Cassia points down a hallway so she grabs her hand and heads down.
When (Y/N) and Cassia walk inside, they are greeted by dozens of eyes. The man who is leaning over one of the desks and is pointing something out looks up at them.
Cassia lets go of her mother’s hand and runs over to the man, who (Y/N) notices is dressed in a button-up and tie with dress pants. His hair is on the longer side but he still looks handsome.
“Doctor Reid!” Cassia exclaims as she throws herself at him and gives him a hug. “Look who came with me today.”
The man — Dr. Reid — smiles at Cassia before looking up at (Y/N). “That cannot be your mother, Cassie,” he says. His hazel eyes meet hers and she feels a warm sensation spread throughout her body.
A sensation she hasn’t felt since having Cassia.
“It is!” an excited Cassia replies. “That’s my mom.”
Dr. Reid tells Cassia that her classmates are down the hall with the snacks. She runs out of the room and Dr. Reid looks up at (Y/N).
Immediately, she begins to apologize when Dr. Reid turns to face her. “I am so sorry that I’m late,” she says. “I lost track of time when Cass asked me when we were leaving for back-to-school night and I just-”
“You can relax, Miss (L/N),” Dr. Reid laughs. “No need to ramble. I understand very well how easy it is to lose track of time. I can give you a quick rundown of how the classroom works as soon as I'm done with the presentation.”
A sigh of relief passes her lips. “Thank you, Doctor Reid,” she replies.
“First of all, you can call me Spencer,” he replies. She smiles. “I’d also like to say that your daughter is one of my most energized and enthusiastic students. She is always participating in lessons and offering to help others. I love to see that kind of participation in the classroom.”
(Y/N) nods. “Cassia loves to learn,” she tells Spencer. “When her father drops her off after school, she always tells me about the things that she did that day and the facts that you tell her. I think you have actually made her want to learn even more than she already did.”
Spencer laughs and looks down at his feet like he’s shy about compliments. “I know too much and sometimes I tell my students,” he replies with a small smile on his lips. “Especially if it relates to the lesson. I have an eidetic memory and I’m always reading so I remember a lot of stupid facts.”
“That’s kind of cool,” (Y/N) says. “I mean, I’d love to know all these little random facts.”
A light blush coats Spencer’s cheeks. “Um, I actually have to get back to presenting but I’d still love to give you that rundown I promised you after.”
She nods and finds Cassia’s desk. She sits down and watches Spencer get back to presenting.
(Y/N)’s eyes don’t leave Spencer the entire time he is in front of the classroom. He looks professional while also having a goofy vibe, but he sounds like he knows what he’s talking about. He seems pretty confident while standing in front of his students' parents.
Not to mention, he is very handsome. She has never met a nerdy guy who's also as attractive as Spencer is.
When she finds out about his three PhDs and two BAs, he immediately becomes twice as attractive. Intelligence is attractive to her, and Spencer is certainly intelligent.
By 24, he had five degrees and now he’s teaching at an elementary school. (Y/N) is 24 now and she’s a single mother working at a hospital as a part-time nurse with one degree in nursing and struggling to make ends meet.
Parents clap when Spencer is done with his presentation. He takes a couple of questions before the principal comes over the loudspeaker to say that there are snacks and drinks in the cafeteria for those who are interested, need to ask more questions, or just want to hang around and mingle.
Everyone in the room leaves and goes down to the cafeteria while (Y/N) stays behind so she can talk to Spencer a little more to get a sense of how his class will be run.
“That was a nice presentation, from the ten minutes I actually saw,” she teases.
Spencer smiles and closes his laptop. “Well, walk with me to the cafeteria and we can chat,” he tells her. “I’m sure Cassia would love to hang out for a bit while I tell you all about the class.”
"Absolutely she would," she replies.
(Y/N) stays behind and watches Spencer pack his laptop away in his bag. He stuffs some folders inside as well before motioning for her to head to the door so he can lock up the room.
As they begin the trek to the cafeteria, Spencer says, "I don't mean to sound rude or intrude, but you seem really young to have a daughter in the third grade."
"I had Cassia when I was 16," she tells Spencer. "I got pregnant after I got drunk and hooked up with a football player after a game. I'm 24 now and I have full custody of her because her father and I are no longer together, but I let her father bring her to and from school while also spending a few days a week with her."
Spencer looks shocked at (Y/N)'s confession. It's not really a confession at this point. She tells that story to anyone who asks. She's grown so used to saying that she had a baby at 16 that it doesn't even faze her anymore.
"Well, I give you props on raising such a wonderful daughter as a single mother," Spencer replies. "I can't even begin to imagine."
"It took a lot out of me at first but we fell into a routine after the custody battle," (Y/N) explains as they walk into the cafeteria. She spots her daughter playing with some of her classmates and she smiles. "If I could do it all over again, I would. I don't regret having a baby in high school at all."
One of the other parents grabs Spencer's attention and he apologetically walks away with a promise to come back so they can continue their conversation.
(Y/N)'s eyes don't leave Spencer as he walks away with the parent who approached him. He pushes his hair behind his ear and flattens the tie as he nods. His side profile is one of the prettiest that (Y/N) has ever seen.
“Mom, you’re staring,” Cassia’s little voice says to pull her out of her head.
Her cheeks heat up and she shakes her head. “I wasn’t staring.”
“Yes you were! I saw you staring at my teacher,” Cassia tells her mother. A little gasp comes from her. “Aw, do you like like Doctor Reid?”
“Cassia,” (Y/N) sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “It’s very inappropriate for me to ‘like’ your teacher. I am your mother, and he is your teacher..”
Cassia rolls her eyes. “All I did was ask a question,” she says. “I didn’t need a lecture.” (Y/N) looks up and sees Spencer walking over. “Oh. I wanted to ask if I could stay at Brynn’s house tonight. Her mom said it’s okay.”
“It’s a school night.”
“Brynn literally is in my class, mom,” Cassia replies. “I want to stay. Please? I promise we won’t stay up late.”
Honestly, a night to herself doesn’t sound like a bad idea. A glass of wine and Law & Order sounds like a good night.
“There are studies that show that sleepovers can help independence in children,” Spencer says. “Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear the question.”
Cassia points at Spencer to prove a point. (Y/N) just shakes her head and smiles. “Fine,” she tells Cassia. “I want you home right after school tomorrow.”
She celebrates and runs off. (Y/N) laughs and looks up at Spencer. “Well now that your night is free, mind if I take you out for a late dinner and that rundown I had promised you? If you haven’t eaten, of course.”
(Y/N) is caught off guard by the question. “I, um …” she trails off. “Do you think that’s a good idea? I mean, you’re my daughter’s teacher. I don’t want her to be accused of favoritism because her mother went to dinner with her teacher.”
“Well, I promise you that I will keep treating Cassia the same way I treat her peers,” Spencer assures (Y/N). “What do you say?”
There’s a little smile on Spencer’s face. That and the confidence he had to ask is the whole reason she says, “Okay, as long as you promise to keep treating Cassia as an equal to her classmates.”
Spencer nods and smiles. “Meet you at Fiola after you drop off Cassia at her friend’s house? My treat,” he says.
(Y/N) mirrors his smile and nods. “Give me a half hour and I’ll meet you there,” she replies. “I just need to get Cassia to Brynn’s and I’ll head over.”
“Mom!” Cassia calls. “Hurry up! Brynn’s mom said she is leaving soon.”
“So, um, see you in half an hour?” she asks. Spencer nods and (Y/N) quickly runs off to her daughter.
There’s a warm feeling in the pit of (Y/N)’s stomach as she and Cassia get in the car. There is a feeling of nervousness as she drives to her apartment that she has and lives in with Cassia.
It’s not a date, but she is nervous like it is. Who knows? Maybe this will turn into something more. Something that (Y/N) has never had before.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
It’s a little after eight when (Y/N) drops Cassia off at her friend’s. She snuck a dress into the car with her so she quickly stops at a convenience store to change on her way to the restaurant.
All she knows about Fiola is that it’s a very upscale restaurant that she could never afford to eat at. She couldn’t show up in a t-shirt and jeans. Even Spencer was dressed nicer than she was.
A little before 8:30 and (Y/N) is walking into the restaurant. The hostess greets her with a smile and asks, “How can I help you today?”
“I’m looking for someone who should’ve been here by now,” she stammers. “Um, the name is Spencer Reid.”
The hostess checks something in front of her and nods with some kind of confirmation. “Right this way, miss,” she says.
She turns and walks into the dining room, weaving between tables. (Y/N) sighs and is brought to the table for two that Spencer is sitting at. “Let me know if you need anything,” the hostess tells (Y/N) when she sits down across from Spencer.
As soon as the hostess walks away, (Y/N)’s eyes turn to Spencer. “Uh, wow,” he blurts out. “I didn’t think you would change for dinner.”
“Felt a little underdressed,” she replies. “Especially for here. I changed quickly after I dropped Cassia off. No biggie.”
Spencer laughs in reply.
Their waiter comes over to take (Y/N)’s order since Spencer had already ordered before she got there. He thanks them both, takes her menu, and walks away to put the orders in.
“So,” (Y/N) sighs. “Do you do this for all the parents who are late to back to school night?”
Spencer smiles behind his glass of water and shakes his head. “Only the pretty ones,” he replies. (Y/N)’s cheeks heat up as she sips her wine. “So, the class will be run similarly to how other classes are run. The day starts at eight, sitting down fifteen minutes for the first lesson. We study English, math, social studies, and science every day spending roughly 90 minutes on each subject. Art is on Mondays around ten, gym is on Thursdays at one, music is on Fridays at ten, and this year we’re starting a technology class that will be on Tuesdays. I’m thinking Wednesdays will be a third grade only thing where the students can ask me questions about whatever they want to know and I’ll answer it the best way that I can. I might call it ‘Dr. Reid Responds’ or something along those lines.”
“That’s such a nice concept,” (Y/N) says when Spencer is done talking. “I meant it earlier when I said that Cass comes home everyday and tells me the facts you tell them through the day. She loves it and already adores you.”
He lets out a light chuckle. “Well I adore Cassia,” he says. “I mean it. We’re only three weeks into the year but she is easily my best student. She is so interested in the material. She reminds me of me when I was her age.”
“She’s a special little girl,” (Y/N) responds after she swallows a sip of wine. “She’s so enthusiastic about everything. Including school.”
Spencer nods in agreement.
There’s a quick moment of silence between the two of them, but it’s not awkward. It’s a comfortable silence. She just looks across the table at Spencer and takes him in while she swirls the wine around in her glass.
He really is handsome. His longer brown hair frames his face perfectly. His hazel eyes almost match the color of his hair. He has high cheekbones and (Y/N) remembers the jawline she saw earlier that day.
“Um, Cassia said you were a nurse,” Spencer says. “Where are you a nurse?”
“Sibley Memorial,” she replies. “I work part-time in the emergency department but I’m trying to get a full-time position.”
“That’s incredible. You save lives all the time.”
(Y/N) chuckles and takes a sip of her drink hoping that it keeps her cheeks from beating up. “I try my best to,” she replies. “I save some, I lose some. It comes with the job. I knew that going in.”
Their meals come shortly after. The pasta dishes that they both ordered look incredible. After one bite, (Y/N) wishes she could take it to Vegas to marry it.
It’s quiet between the two of them while they enjoy the food. (Y/N) loves it and finds herself wishing that she could bring Cassia here.
Maybe one day when she makes enough money to buy a dinner like this for the two of them without costing them a week or groceries or utilities.
“So, Mr. Eidetic Memory,” (Y/N) begins as soon as she is done eating. “You probably could have chosen any career in the world. Why did you choose teaching when you could’ve been working for the FBI or something?”
Spencer laughs and wipes his face free of sauce. “I wanted to make a difference in the lives of those around me,” he replies. “I want to leave a lasting impact on my students. I, um, used to work for the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit but the job became too much, so I turned to teaching. I love kids so I decided to teacher a younger class.”
“That’s really nice, Spencer,” she says when he’s done talking. “I mean, I wanted to be a nurse to help people and you’re teaching for that same reason. Even when you worked for the FBI. You saved lives too.”
“Not enough.” There’s a hint of sadness in his voice when he says those two words. It breaks (Y/N)’s heart.
Before she realizes what she’s doing, (Y/N) reaches across the table and puts her hands on top of Spencer’s. He looks at their hands before his eyes flicker up to meet hers. (Y/N)’s heart beats out of her chest when their eyes meet, the butterflies return to the pit of her stomach.
There is some sadness behind Spencer’s eyes, but there is something else that she can’t quite describe or explain.
The waiter decides now to come up and give them the check. Spencer snatches it before she can look at it. He gives his card immediately to the waiter. She smiles and sits back in her chair. “You’re ridiculous,” she tells him.
“That’s not nice to say to someone who just paid for your dinner, Miss (L/N),” Spencer playfully retorts.
“(Y/N),” she replies. “My name is (Y/N). If I can call you Spencer, then you can call me (Y/N).”
Spencer smiles as the waiter comes back. “(Y/N).”
The way Spencer says her name makes her shiver.
He signs the check and they head outside to the parking lot. (Y/N) looks over at Spencer as they walk. He’s nearly a head taller than she is, and she put on heels.
Spencer walks her all the way to her car. “I just wanted to make sure you got to your car okay before I head to the metro,” he tells her.
“You took the metro?” she asks. “Oh my God. Get in my car, Spencer. I’ll take you home.” She pauses. “Unless you want to come back to my apartment. We can have a drink or two and continue to talk.” He hesitates and (Y/N) smiles. “I’m not going to kidnap you. I know you worked for the FBI and saw things like this but I promise I’m not going to kidnap my daughter’s favorite teacher.”
He laughs, “Okay. A drink or two then I’ll Uber back to my own apartment.”
She gets in the driver’s seat of her car and Spencer gets in beside her. She starts it up and buckles her seatbelt before beginning the drive home.
The entire car ride, (Y/N) is very aware of the man that is sitting next to her. She’s aware of every move he makes, every time he grabs the “oh, shit” handle when she breaks a little too hard at red lights, and every time he thinks he sneaks a glance at her. At one point, his eyes look her up and down. She accidentally stepped on the break a little too hard because she was slightly distracted.
Twenty minutes pass before (Y/N) pulls into her usual parking spot outside of her building. She sighs and turns the car off before she looks at Spencer. “See? I got you here in one piece and I didn’t put a blindfold over your eyes,” she teases.
Spencer just smiles and gets out of the car. She follows suit, locking the vehicle behind her as she and Spencer walk into the building.
She uses her building key to get inside then climbs a flight of stairs.
As she’s unlocking the door to her apartment, she realizes that the apartment is a mess. She hasn’t cleaned in nearly a week because her schedule and Cassia’s schedule.
“Um, I’m sorry about the mess,” she says as she opens the door. “I haven’t really had the time to clean, if I’m being honest.”
“I get it,” Spencer laughs. “Trust me. I’m glad we came here and didn’t go to my apartment. It’s a complete disaster.”
(Y/N) smiles as she shuts the door behind Spencer. “I can go get us drinks while you go sit,” she offers. “What can I get for you?”
“Whatever you’re having.”
She nods and walks into the kitchen. She hears the couch squeak behind her and she smiles to herself.
An attractive man is in her apartment and isn’t judging her for the mess that is her apartment. It’s been years since she went on a proper date — even though dinner with Spencer was not a date — and invited someone back to her apartment. It feels kind of nice to have another adult in her home instead of a crazy child.
She pours both of them a glass of wine before joining Spencer on the couch. She kicks off her heels and they fall to the carpeted floor with a soft thud before she curls up and tucks her feet under her.
“You know, I should’ve asked this before agreeing to go to dinner,” she begins to say. “You aren’t in any kind of relationship, right? No girlfriend, no Mrs. Reid?”
Spencer laughs and shakes his head. “No, I’m not in a relationship and I’m not married,” he replies. “I might be 32 but I’ve only had a handful of relationships and I have never been married. I don’t think I’ve ever really settled down with anyone for a long period of time. I haven’t really had a lot of time to date, especially when I worked at the BAU. I didn't really want to put someone in danger either. I've seen what that did to my co-workers."
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
“I guess you aren’t in a relationship either,” he points out after he sips his wine. “I mean, you invited me back to your apartment. I think that’s a sign that there is no one in your life.”
(Y/N) chuckles to herself and shakes her head. “I am a very single mother,” she tells him.
“Good to know.” He sends a wink in her direction.
They settle into small talk, asking each other how the week is going. Spencer talks about his students and how they’re enjoying what he’s teaching them. She can tell by the way he talks about the kids that he truly loves what he does.
(Y/N) even tells Spencer about her ER stories from the week. Some of them are more gruesome than others but she enjoys her job, more on the days when no one dies in her care.
He asks about Cassia, which throws (Y/N) off a lot. No one has ever been this interested in her daughter. She doesn’t even tell most guys she goes out with about her daughter until a few dates in — again this isn’t a date though.
Spencer knows Cassia though, and he’s getting to know her mother now too. It warms her heart that he is asking about Cassia. Her daughter is her first love. Anyone else comes after her.
Three glasses of wine later, Spencer realizes what time it is. It’s nearly midnight.
“I should probably get going,” he sighs. “Take the train back to my apartment.”
(Y/N) chews on her lower lip for a second, contemplating. “I mean, you could just … stay?” she suggests. “It’s pretty late. By the time you get home, it will probably be close to one in the morning. You’ll only get a few hours of sleep. More hours of sleep if you just … stay here.”
She sees the gears turning behind Spencer’s eyes. He is definitely thinking about it.
“If you’re okay with it.”
“I’m more than okay with it, Spencer.” Her voice almost comes out as a whisper.
Spencer’s eyes almost darken. (Y/N)’s heart is beating so quickly in her chest, especially when he moves a bit closer to her. His thumb drags across her jaw. Goosebumps break out across her body when he touches her.
She should back away before any lines are crossed. This is Cassia's teacher. (Y/N) isn't sure if the line should be crossed because of that.
“Tell me I’m not reading this wrong,” he softly says, eyes flickering down to (Y/N)’s lips for a split second.
Immediately, (Y/N) shakes her head. "You're not reading this wrong," she tells him. "I'm just unsure if we should do this. I mean, you're my daughter's teacher, Spencer. I'm also almost ten years younger than you too."
Spencer doesn't move away. "If you're uncomfortable then tell me," he says. "If you don't want me to kiss you then tell me because I'm going to kiss you if you don't."
Their noses touch and (Y/N) lets out a soft sigh, her eyes fluttering shut.
It's such a bad idea, but she's starting to not care. She's a grown adult. Spencer is a grown adult. They're both consenting adults.
"Kiss me," (Y/N) whispers. "Please, Spencer."
With zero hesitation, Spencer closes the space between them and captures her lips with his. They sit with their lips connected for a few seconds before (Y/N) reciprocates the kiss. Spencer leans into her, which deepens the kiss.
It's such a soft yet deep kiss that it nearly takes the breath out of her lungs. Especially after one of Spencer's hands slides into her hair and his fingers curl into her locks. It holds her in place, not that she's planning on going anywhere. She's not.
(Y/N) throws one of her legs over Spencer's knee and moves even closer. She wraps her hand around Spencer's wrist so he doesn't take his hand out of her hair.
Spencer's free hand rests on her knee, slowly sliding up her thigh until his fingers are under the soft fabric of her black dress, tracing the outline of her panties. He grips her thigh under the dress and (Y/N) sighs against Spencer's lips.
When Spencer moves his hand higher, (Y/N) throws her leg over his lap and straddles his thighs. Her hands cup Spencer's jaw while her fingers play with the ends of Spencer's hair.
She feels Spencer's hand move higher and rest on her butt. She begins to untie the tie around his neck without breaking the kiss.
She starts to get frustrated because she can’t see what she’s doing. With a groan, she pulls back and Spencer laughs. “Relax, (Y/N),” he tells her as he puts his hands over hers. “I’m not going anywhere.” He unties his tie for her and drops it on the couch beside them.
(Y/N) meets his eyes and relaxes her body. She smiles at him as his hands come up to cup her cheeks. “God, I haven’t done this in a long time,” she breathes out as she looks back down at her hands on his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, you’re doing fine,” Spencer assures her, dipping his head down and meeting her eyes. He smiles as if to reassure her. “Seriously.”
“Then can we move this to the bedroom,” she suggests. “The couch isn’t very comfortable if I’m being honest. It’s a very cheap and kind of lumpy. Not fun to lay on.”
Spencer smiles and nods. “If you want to get me in your bed, just tell me,” he teases.
(Y/N) gets up off of his lap and begins to walk down the hallway. "Let's go then."
She reaches behind her and unzips the dress as she walks. Footsteps sound behind her as the fabric hits the floor with a soft thud. She turns into her bedroom, which is a lot cleaner than the living room.
Not three steps into her bedroom, a pair of arms wraps around her waist. She’s pulled backward and crashes into something solid. (Y/N) giggles and looks up at Spencer. "You're gorgeous, (Y/N)," he mumbles into her ear. His lips brush against her ear and she shivers.
He moves her hair off of her shoulder and begins to kiss her neck. She tilts her head to the side and lets out a soft sigh. "You are too, Spencer."
She turns in his arms and looks up at him. He tucks her hair behind her ear and pulls her into another kiss. Her fingers begin working on unbuttoning his shirt because he's wearing too many clothes for her liking. Especially since she's standing in front of him in nothing but a bra and panties.
As soon as his shirt is unbuttoned, Spencer untucks it from the waistband of his pants and lets it drop to the floor. His fingers reach behind her and he unclasps her bra and she lets it join Spencer's shirt on the ground.
He tugs (Y/N) impossibly closer to him, their chests pressed against each other. They literally can not get any closer to each other unless she crawls into him.
Without breaking the kiss, he picks (Y/N) up and walks toward her bed. She wraps her legs around his waist until he lays her down on the mattress.
Spencer hovers above her and her legs fall open so he can get comfortable between them. He kicks his shoes and toes his socks off while they both move backward in the mattress. (Y/N)'s fingers slide into his hair and hold his warm brown locks out of his face.
He grinds his bulge against (Y/N)'s clothed core. She lets out a soft moan against his lips. Spencer snakes a hand between them and slides his fingers into her panties. She whines while his fingers run through her dripping folds. He takes advantage of the distraction and pushes his tongue into her mouth.
"Spencer," she whines. He breaks the kiss when she says his name,
"This okay?"
"Yes," she replies. "Do something." She moves her hips so his fingers line up with her entrance. "Please."
Spencer pushes one finger into her. He curls it slightly as he pumps in and out of her. Soft sighs pass her slightly parted lips. Her eyes are on Spencer. His hair is wild from having her fingers in it, his lips are red and swollen from the kisses that they have exchanged over the past few minutes.
A second and third finger is soon added and (Y/N) withers under his touch. "Fuck," she gasps when he curls all three of his fingers. "Spencer."
"Let me hear you, baby," Spencer tells her as he kisses down her body. He makes a quick pit stop at your breasts, swirling his tongue around one of your nipples. Her back arches off the mattress with a moan. "That's it."
He continues his journey down her body. Spencer hooks his fingers into the waistband of her panties and pulls them off of her body. He kisses the inside of her thighs before he wraps his lips around her clit. He sucks gently and (Y/N)'s fingers grip Spencer's hair. She looks down and meets his eyes.
"Oh my God," she groans as she throws her head back against the pillow. "Spencer. Fuck."
She doesn't mean to pull on Spencer's hair, but the reaction she gets out of him makes her want to do it again. He hums around her and it makes her entire body shake. She has to bite down on her lower lip so she literally doesn't scream Spencer's name. The last thing she needs is for her neighbors to hear her having what's probably the best sex of her life.
Spencer curls his fingers inside of her and she lets out a borderline pornographic moan, coming without warning around Spencer's fingers. (Y/N)'s breathing is labored as he fingers her through her high.
Her entire body melts and becomes one with the mattress when he withdraws his fingers and she begins to come back to reality. She is quick to notice that her legs are still shaking.
"Shit," she chuckles as Spencer sits back on his knees and licks his lips. That simple motion shouldn't be as hot as it is, but she knows what he's licking off of his lips.
Something comes over (Y/N). She doesn't know if it's confidence or what but she pulls Spencer back down to the mattress. She flips them over and sits on Spencer's waist. She doesn't even know how she managed to do that considering she was just shaking from her orgasm not five minutes ago.
She leans down and presses soft kisses to Spencer's jaw and cheek. "My turn to make you feel good," she whispers when she gets close to his ear. "You lay there and look pretty."
(Y/N) swears she feels Spencer shiver beneath her. With a small smile, she begins to kiss down his neck and chest. Her fingers begin to work at the belt around his waist. The metal clangs while she works on getting the belt undone. She shoves her hand down his pants when the belt and button get undone.
Spencer groans when (Y/N)'s hand wraps around his erect dick. She gives him a few strokes in his pants before she pulls both his pants and boxers down his legs. They join her underwear on the ground next to the bed while she settles between his legs.
He's a little bigger than average, but not too thick. It's still a little intimidating.
She wipes away the bit of pre-come that has collected at the tip of his dick with her thumb. "(Y/N)," Spencer warns. "Don't tease. It's not nice."
(Y/N) smiles and wraps her lips around the bright red tip. Her tongue swirls around the top for a second before she lowers her mouth onto him.
She uses one hand to make up for what she can't fit in her mouth and uses the other to touch herself because the sounds that are coming from Spencer are too much and she needs some relief. She imagines that it's his fingers that are bringing her close to the edge.
Soft groans come from Spencer as she occasionally hollows out her cheeks and sucks.
He begins thrusting up into her mouth. She stops moving and lets him use her mouth. "God, look at you, (Y/N)," Spencer sighs. "Letting me use that pretty mouth of yours."
His words shoot straight to the knot in (Y/N)'s stomach that already threatens to come undone again. He's careful not to choke her with his dick as he fucks her mouth.
Before she comes again, she pulls off Spencer with a soft pop. He raises his eyebrows at her as she moves over to her bedside table. She opens the drawer and pulls out a little foil package. She tosses it at Spencer.
"I want you to fuck me," she tells him. "And as much as I love my daughter, I'm not ready for another one so put that on and fuck me."
Spencer doesn't need to be told twice. He rips open the little package with his teeth while (Y/N) lays down in front of him. Her legs fall open and as soon as the condom is on, Spencer falls on top of her.
"This is something you want?" he asks. "I just want to make sure that you won't have any regrets about it."
She leans up and captures Spencer's lips in a soft kiss. He brackets her head with his arms as she pulls him down so she can lay her head on the pillow. "I want you, Spencer Reid," she mumbles between kisses. "All of you. Please."
In the very short amount of time that she has known Spencer, she already feels very connected to him. Between the way they bonded over why they're in the fields they're in and the fact that they both have some kind of love for Cassia, (Y/N) can see herself with him. He could be the father figure that Cassia doesn't really have in her life.
He's been so careful the entire time he's been over. He's been taking care of (Y/N) the whole time, making sure she's okay before making a move. It warms her heart.
Spencer lining himself up with her entrance causes (Y/N) to come back to reality. She breaks the kiss and stares up at Spencer. There is a fire behind those honey-colored eyes of his. A fire that excites her.
She uses her fingers to push back Spencer's hair so she can see his face as he pushes himself into her since she gave him permission. She gasps as he slowly fills her up. He moves slowly, giving her time to adjust to his size.
Her eyes never leave his. (Y/N) notices his pupils blow up as he sinks further into her. She wraps her legs around her and digs her heels into the back of his thighs, which forces Spencer to completely fill her.
"Let me know when I can move," he softly says as he brushes a piece of her hair out of her face. " I don't want to hurt you, baby."
(Y/N)'s thumbs softly run over his cheekbones. Her heart flutters at the pet name. She nods after a moment of silence.
Spencer slowly begins to thrust his hips into her. (Y/N) lets out soft whines as he moves. Her fingers curl in Spencer's hair and he leans down to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to her neck and collarbone.
"Spencer," she sighs. "Faster. You're not going to break me."
He nips at the skin on her collarbone and she lets out a soft moan. "You have no idea what you're doing to me, (Y/N)," Spencer pants against her skin. "You look so pretty underneath me. I can't get enough."
She bites her bottom lip again and arches her back off the mattress, trying to get even closer to him. His hand comes down on her waist and he holds her waist up.
His pace gets faster and he moves deeply into her.
With every hard thrust, the bed squeaks and (Y/N) groans. She should be worried about the fact that her bed sounds like it's going to break if they keep up this pace, but that is the very last thing on her mind.
The hand that was holding (Y/N)'s waist slithers lower and Spencer's fingers connect with her still-sensitive clit. She whines as he uses his fingers to get her closer to her orgasm. She bucks her hips up every time he thrusts into her, keeping up with his pace.
"Fuck, Spencer," she groans.
"You gonna come again for me, pretty girl?" he asks. It comes out in pants because of how labored his breathing is. His breathy voice is hotter than (Y/N) should find it. "Go ahead and come for me, baby. Let go. I've got you."
It isn't long after that before she's clenching around Spencer's dick and coming around him with the loudest moan that she's ever let out. Her back arches off the bed and for a second, she swears she's floating when her vision goes completely white.
Her entire body goes numb after her second orgasm in about fifteen minutes. (Y/N) isn't sure that she'll ever be able to move again. Spencer might have just killed her by giving her the best orgasm of her entire life.
(Y/N) doesn't even feel Spencer pull out or notice that he disappeared before she sees him walking back into the bedroom with a towel to clean them both up.
"We are so lucky that Cassia isn't here," (Y/N) says, voice raspy as she talks. Spencer laughs as he wipes away the layer of sweat that has formed on both of them. "I don't think I have ever been that loud during sex. Ever."
Spencer throws the towel on the floor and crawls next to (Y/N). He pulls the blankets on top of both of them and (Y/N) curls up at his side. "Next time, we can't be that loud," he tells her.
She looks up at him and pushes his sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes. "We should probably shower," she points out.
"Now why should we do that when that's not going to be the only round for tonight?" Spencer's head dips down and captures her lips in a slow kiss.
"What happened to sleep?"
"Sleep is for the weak."
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Spencer leaves early in the morning because he can't show up to work in the same clothes he left in yesterday. The kids would notice if he did that.
(Y/N) tells Cassia's father that she'll pick Cassia up from school since she's "already out". She isn't already out of the apartment. She leaves at two so she can go pick up her daughter, and see her new ... whatever Spencer is.
It's a little after 2:30 when (Y/N) pulls up to the school. She hangs around with the other parents, talking mostly to Brynn's mom about how Cassia was last night.
"What did you do with your suddenly free night?" Brynn's mom asks (Y/N).
"Drank some wine," she replies. "Turned in early and got up late." Not a complete lie. She was technically in bed by ten and only woke up to say goodbye to Spencer after a round of sex in the shower. She slept until noon after he left.
The kids all come running out shortly after. They get dismissed by grade and luckily for (Y/N), their teachers come out with them.
By the time third grade comes out, (Y/N) is practically shaking with excitement to see Spencer after their night together.
She sees Cassia come running out. Her daughter comes running right over to her. (Y/N) leans down and picks her daughter up "I thought daddy was picking me up today like he always does," she says.
"I was out and decided to come get you," she replies. "How was school today?"
"Doctor Reid was in a very good mood today," Cassia tells her mom. There is confusion in her voice. "He didn't even give us homework tonight because of his good mood."
(Y/N) look up to see Spencer walking toward her and Cassia. "No homework, hm?" she asks as Spencer approaches them with a smile on his face. "I think this calls for an ice cream night in celebration."
“Ooh, ice cream,” Spencer says. “Sounds like fun.” She shoots Spencer a little smile.
Cassia looks between her mother and teacher before she says, “You should come over and have ice cream with us, Doctor Reid! Ice cream night is a lot of fun. We watch movies too.”
“Now that does sound like a lot of fun,” Spencer replies, eyes flickering between (Y/N) and Cassia. “It’s up to your mom if I can come or not though.”
Her daughter looks at her and does her puppy dog pout. “Please?” she asks. “It’ll be a lot more fun if Doctor Reid came over and had ice cream with us.”
(Y/N) smiles and looks up at Spencer. “Would you like to come over and have ice cream with us while we watch movies, Doctor Reid?”
“Absolutely,” he replies. “Sounds like a lot of fun. What time should I come over?”
“Seven,” (Y/N) tells him.
Cassia celebrates and her mother puts her down. “See you later, Doctor Reid!” she calls as she runs to the car.
Both Spencer and (Y/N) look at each other while Cassia gets in the car. “Make sure you bring pajamas or a change of clothes tonight, Doctor Reid,” she tells him. “Don’t need a repeat of last night, do we?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Nice mark, by the way,” (Y/N) points out. “Wonder why you’re in such a good mood.”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
A/N - this is my first spencer reid one shot so pls let me know how i did. hope it wasn’t bad
MASTERLIST
REQUEST GUIDLINES
PART TWO
2K notes · View notes
rreids · 21 days
Text
PROGRESS • S. REID X READER
semi-specific spoilers for 2 x 15 and the aftermath (specifically 3 x 16), hurt-comfort, tiny bit of smut (a handjob), probably incorrect information (mention of arousal being different but similar to adrenaline, i have no idea if this is true and refuse to do research), mentions of marriage, ~1.5k
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Spencer was strong. You knew that.
You’d been with him every stop of the way through rehabilitation: through the relapses; held his hand and kissed away his tears as he fought the urges and ideas that he was worthless; told him he was stronger than anything and more resilient and beautiful than anyone you’d ever known.
One of his personal choices in his journey to get clean made sex harder — he was trying to learn how to temper all desire and urges, filter through what he deemed wouldn’t hurt or threaten his sobriety before making any impulsive decisions.
You hadn’t minded, content with the soft kisses and tickle of his eyelashes and beard against your skin as he silently thanks you for your care.
You loved his beautiful mind that ran a million miles a minute far more than you loved the pleasure from his body, and you knew you’d wait forever if that’s what it took. You wouldn’t have even cared if it was off the table.
You just wanted Spencer.
It’d been a few months since he decided to get clean, and as much as seeing him sob and writhe as he convinced himself he wasn’t irredeemable for slipping up crushed you every time, you knew it wasn’t about you.
Today was a hard day for him.
“Spence, baby,” you whisper, wiping his tears as he tells you about a recent case — the victim used, and the amount of himself Spencer saw in her terrified him —, lip quivering. “You’re okay. You have that coin, right? The one John gave you?”
He nods, leaning into your palm. He presses a kiss to your wrist and closes his eyes.
“You’ll get there. But struggling is okay. You know that, don’t you?”
Shuddering sobs wrack his body, breaths catching in ways that twist your heart, and you know he’s trying his best to calm down. “But what if I can’t?”
“You will, Spence,” you promise. “It’s worth it. We both know it. And we both know you’re strong enough to make it through this and come out better on the other side,” you kiss his forehead. “Besides, I’m here right alongside you. I won’t ever leave,”
Spencer sobs again, breathing ragged.
“I promise.” You answer his silent question, and he nods.
“I love you,” Spencer whispers out, voice scratchy. “You know that?”
“Well, out of the two of us, I’m not the one with the eidetic memory…” you trail off playfully, just for a moment, not long enough to make him worry. “I could never forget, baby.”
“I miss you,”
“We live together,”
“Not like that,” Spencer sighs. “I miss touching you. Feeling you.”
“You can have me whenever you want,” you promise him, brushing his curls out of his eyes. He was due for a trim, but you thought it was cute. “I’m yours.”
Spencer sighs, pushing past your hands and dropping his head to your shoulder.
“We go at your pace.”
“And if I think I’m ready?”
“Then we do what you’re comfortable with, and if you tap out, we stop. Your pace.”
Spencer nods, almost determined. It’s cute, and you have to fight back a laugh.
You smile despite your efforts, and the first kiss is more you two grinning against each other than a kiss. He takes the lead and slowly deepens it, careful and awkward like the first time you two ever tried to do more than steal pecks and hold hands.
His muscles are tense under you as you ghost your hands to his shoulders, and you gently work them as you kiss him.
“Are you giving me a massage?” He asks, confused and a little breathless.
“If I have to.” You smile, kissing his nose. “Relax, sweetheart. The second you wanna stop, just tap me two times. Nothing you don’t want.”
“Am I that tense?” Spencer tries to focus on muscles and force them to relax, but he’s too tightly wound.
“Would it be better if I give a massage first?” You ask, leaning down and peppering kisses to the side of his neck down to his collarbone. “Let you chill and then I ask before anything progresses?”
Spencer looks down, cheeks burning, and nods.
You don’t comment. He’s embarrassed enough, and you’re just happy to see him opening back up.
Tobias had left scars beyond the dots — that look more like freckles than any lasting trauma now — on his elbow. Though you suppose that was Tobias’s way of saving him from the worse scars from Rafael and Charles. Semantics. None of it mattered when your pretty boy was aching and worried under you.
“Lay down,” you urge, “take off your shirt if you’re ready. I’ll get your lavender lotion,”
It’s his favorite, a gift from his mom. You don’t tell him that he used up the one she gave him, since you dutifully rebuy and refill sneakily enough he doesn’t notice the volume shifting.
When you come back from the bathroom, he’s shirtless, fingers locked together and bracing his head.
“Gonna sit right above your thighs, sweetheart. Lotion’ll be cold,” you warn, and wait until he nods.
Then you settle and gently work through cords and muscles, slowly, patiently, methodically, a whispered warning and praise with every big move or change in pressure.
He melts under you, soft moans falling from his lips as you release pain he didn’t even know he had.
“Okay?”
“Yeah,” Spencer breathes. “Can you… can you kiss me? Before we do anything,”
He’s curled in on himself a little, and you murmur an “of course” as he sits up and tugs the blanket over his chest. You know he’s never liked the bruises from field-work, but this is something more.
“You know I always find you pretty, right, Spence?” He tilts his head at you. “I don’t care about the ugly moments. You’re my pretty boy. You don’t have to hide anything.”
You stress that last word, and you see it click for him, and he slowly lets the blanket fall.
You kiss a bruise on his shoulder.
“Kiss me, Spencer,” you urge, and he smiles, leaning in and softly melding to you, fingers curling on your waist with practiced movements.
His body remembers, and it makes your heart flutter.
He sighs into your mouth, sweet and gentle. You can feel his pulse racing, his movements getting more excited and clumsy as he kisses down your neck.
“You’re so good, make me feel so, so good.”
Spencer smiles against your skin. “You make me feel good too.”
You know he means it more than physically, but that’s what he needs right now.
And you want to give it to him.
“Can we take your boxers off, Spence?”
He nods eagerly, and you carefully slide his pants off with them, avoiding another bruise on his hip from a tackle on the recent case.
“So pretty,”
And he is. Lean muscle, freckles and moles, tan and pale skin in equal parts, wrinkles, bruises, everything.
His cock, too, weeping pre-cum and a pretty pink at the tip.
“Thank you,” he sighs, gasping as you grasp him and stroke, slow and wet. He sets the pace, fucking into your grip and kissing you sloppily to it.
He’s lost technique, having avoided more intimate touch for so long, but the eagerness and anxiety means more to you than it being perfect.
He tenses again as he gets close, and you know it’s the adrenaline, the high. It feels too much like what he’s been fighting.
“Okay?”
Spencer swallows. “I don’t know,”
“What’s the difference between sexual arousal and adrenaline, baby?”
It distracts him, and it also guides him exactly where you want — that the bodily response may be similar, but the centers it lights up are different; the cause is different; he hasn’t done anything to jeopardize himself, he’s okay. He can let go of some of the control he had to regain, can slowly ease back up.
He’s safe.
He cums, gasping breaths tearing through him. As soon as you work him through it, you pull off and clean him.
“You did so good,” you praise, brushing his curls with your clean hand and stroking the skin on the nape of his neck. “You’re okay,”
Spencer nods and kisses you, no urgency, just the depths of his feelings. “I missed you,”
“I missed you too, Spence,” you try not to let the tears prick your eyes, but you know you fail when he furrows his brow at you. “I’m happy,” you reassure.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You breathe out. “I just… I’m glad you feel safe enough to try. You know? It’s hard to watch you struggle.”
“It’s hard for me too,” he laughs, kissing your tears, a reversal of just an hour ago. “But I know what you mean. I’m sorry if it makes it hard for you.”
“No. It doesn’t,” you’re quick and firm in your reassurance. “I mean it when I say I will always be here for you. Good and the bad. In sickness and in health — though, maybe I should keep that unofficial until you put a ring on me.”
He laughs, boyish and free. The happiest he’s been in months. “Soon,”
568 notes · View notes
mieczyslawsravenclaw · 2 months
Text
Eidetic Memory Be Damned -Spencer Reid
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•Pairing - Spencer Reid x FemFBIAgent!Reader
•Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!
•Summary/Prompt - Spencer is tired of only having the memory of you to enjoy during his spicy times , so he just has to intrude into your hotel room after a case is finished…
•Warnings/Content - p in the v unprotected (hey kids- DONT DO IT) ; cursing ; Spence loves to beg to nut in you and does so ; creampie ; some pain play? (just a lil hand on the throat dealio and some hair pulling) ; LOTS of praise on both sides (good boy, pretty girl, etc) ; very mf horny lol ; (basically they do just about everything from first base to last bestie slay)
•Word Count - 3.3k
•Authorʼs Note(s) - Iʼm so mf rusty at writing smut so this is probs not the best, I just wanted to write some Spencer spice cause I had a spicy dream about him lmao RIP >_< Also this'll be my first official post of my writing on Tumblr slayyyyy
•Additional Tags - Switch!Spencer , Switch!Reader , Spencer is a needy brat LMAO , Team has ‘no ideaʼ you two are hooking up (Be so mf fr they do) , Good aftercare is so valid , Spencer loves being cuffed and teased muahaha
As much as this last case had taken out of me, I was more than happy to get to spend some time in my hotel room while the jet refueled and everyone got their bearings. Itʼs not home - far from it, Iʼd been missing my own bed for the majority of our time here in whatever state it was now - but at least it was something.
But of course, the reprieve wouldnʼt last long - a sharp knock on my door confirmed that, about 20 minutes after Iʼd laid down to sleep.
“What…ˮ I groan, frustratedly looking over at the clock.
The knock, again, more persistent this time. And I recognize its pattern now, three short tap-taps. Spencer.
My heartbeat, despite my minor annoyance at being woken up, is hammering now. Spencer seems to do that to me, from the moment Iʼd realized I have feelings for him, carrying into whatever it is that we are now. Secret trysts that Iʼm sure are no secret to our team members, especially Garcia, because sheʼd pried it out of me almost immediately and now waits in her dark little room with nothing else but excitement for the latest updates on us, it seems.
“Are you awake?ˮ A gentle but still much-too-loud voice asks.
I tumble out of bed, rushing to the door. I donʼt even have time to make sure I look okay - Iʼm much too worried about anyone else hearing him. The door is unlocked and pulled open in record time, a stunned lanky man quickly and semi-quietly forced inside.
“Spence, someoneʼs gonna hear you if you keep on like that.ˮ I chastise him, shutting and locking the door behind us. No sooner have I done so, than his lithe form overtakes me, nestling into the crook of my neck with a groan that seems both relieved and not relieved at all.
“Donʼt care,ˮ He pushes me back, until my legs meet the mattress and fold. Quickly following on top of me, he sighs, “Been too long. I miss you. You know I have an eidetic memory, yeah? Doesnʼt mean shit when Iʼm up late and even thoughts of you arenʼt enough to keep me satiated.ˮ
“Someoneʼs gonna-ˮ Hear, I want to say. He knows, of course he does. And Iʼm only half-complaining, with his lips at my neck and his leg sneaking up between mine the way he also knows.
“Donʼt care.ˮ He repeats, the low moan at the back of his throat breaking through into the silent room. “I told you I miss you. Should I tell you about what I use my memory for? And just how much that hasnʼt been enough lately? Or should I show you?ˮ
Itʼs clearly a rhetorical question, but still, he seeks the permission I am more than happy to grant.
“Tell me. Uh, show me. I mean-ˮ
“I can do both,ˮ Even in the dark, I know heʼs got that matter of fact smirk on his lips. He reaches down, holding me by the hip with one hand while the other slips into my pajamas, a practiced motion heʼs all too good at by now. “Usually this is what I remember first. The way your skin feels, how nice it is to make you tremble beneath my touch.ˮ
I buck up, and he chuckles.
“All too eager, arenʼt you? Clearly youʼve been thinking about it too, huh, pretty girl?ˮ A pointed question he knows Iʼll struggle to answer, with his hand and his voice torturing me so.
“No eid- identical- uh, no memory recall whatever for me.ˮ
“Still wouldnʼt satiate, I bet.ˮ He remarks, casually rubbing circles and patterns over my panties. This is how he operates, surely and with no warning. A gentle but firm kiss to my jaw, and he continues, “Itʼs like that for me, at least. I know no amount of recalling how you feel under me will be enough to match just how nice it is.ˮ
Heʼs right, and of course he is; I can barely handle the teasing, the tone his voice has taken in this short amount of time. And I currently dont care if weʼre heard, either.
“Spence-ˮ
“What is it, sweetheart? Too much for you? Not enough?ˮ
“Please?ˮ
“Words, honey. Youʼve gotta use your words. Or you can show me, Iʼm okay withthat too.ˮ He guides my hand down to his.
“More.ˮ I plead, working to undress myself before his hands take over.
“You only have to ask.ˮ
True to his word, Spencer pulls the fabric away, no longer allowing it to be a block between us. Itʼs lost somewhere in the sheets as he kisses me, his practiced hands no longer in the mood to tease. He slips a finger in, and when I let out a keening whine, another, his free hand going automatically to my mouth.
“Now as much as I say I donʼt care, youʼve gotta be a little quiet for me,ˮ He goads, knowing this will only make it harder for me to do so. His breath is hot in my ear, his fingers working a motion thatʼs both breaking pent up weeks old frustration, and yet causing more tension in my belly. “Much as I love your voice. Your sounds. The-ˮ
I rut up against him, my lips opening around his thumb. He works it into my mouth, his voice lowering even further.
“Cmon, show me how much you missed me, huh, princess?ˮ
I moan, words lost in my mind as it spins. Every tug of his fingers between my thighs is building a high Iʼm chasing, and when I get to this point, Iʼm not talking - he is. And he knows it, knows the right words to say to build and break me.
“This is what Iʼm after, this is what I canʼt just remember. Because itʼs all too much to remember how good it feels to destroy you.ˮ
Please, please. I canʼt hold off much longer.
“Now are you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?ˮ
I nod, lips opening and letting his hand free from my mouth as my breaths grow heavy. “Canʼt - Please, Spence, please-ˮ
He presses me further into the mattress, murmuring sweet and dirty nothings into my ear as the dam breaks and I ride my high. Iʼm far too sensitive following, and when I try to push him away for a moment, allow myself to collect some sort of reprieve before we continue, he chuckles lowly.
“See, I can recall that clear as day. But itʼs so much sweeter to have it happening in front of me, you know?ˮ He nestles in beside me, turning me to face him.
Nigh immediately, Iʼm reaching for his belt buckle. Of course he wouldnʼt have changed into comfortable clothes, not even this late- Iʼm sure this was his plan all along, and he tried to fight it as long as he could.
“Someoneʼs eager.ˮ He quips, the smirk growing.
“Youʼve got me thinking about it,ˮ I sigh, letting him maneuver himself out of the constricting clothing. “Coming over and getting me all hot and bothered. I really ought to…ˮ
“Ought to what?ˮ He goads, pulling me onto him with a low noise as we brush together. “Hmm? Are you gonna say…you ought to punish me?ˮ
I nod, rubbing back against him. He lets out a moan, hands gripping my hips tighter.
“I remember how that feels,ˮ He pulls me closer, voice dropping. “But for your sake, maybe you should refresh me.ˮ
When he reaches for me again, I pull back, pinning his hands down above his head. I know he could get out of it if he really wanted to - Iʼm strong, but not stronger than him - but he most certainly doesnʼt want to get out of it. And Iʼm enjoying it far too much to stop myself now.
“Whatʼre you gonna do, cuff me?ˮ He snaps, the bratty attitude far too practiced and already making me a soaking mess.
“I might.ˮ I reach for my pair, knowing all too well that heʼll absolutely lose it once I let go on him. I can hardly stand the anticipation. “Scared, Reid?ˮ
“Terrified. Please, donʼt. Iʼve been a good boy, I swear.ˮ
I push him back while he pleads, tightening the metal around his wrists. The look on his face, muffled as it is by the darkness of the room, is more than enough to spur me on.
“Not thinking about this at all, huh?ˮ I shed my top, if only for the knowledge that his inability to reach for my breasts drives him utterly insane. “And Iʼm sure you havenʼt spent many late nights with the memory of me riding you, have you? Havenʼt had your hands on that pretty cock of yours, thinking about how it feels when itʼs me, yeah?ˮ
“N-Not at all.ˮ
“Itʼs a shame, then.ˮ I tease, feeling him harden beneath me with every word. “Iʼll have to make you confess, I suppose.ˮ
His eyes follow my every move as I back up, slotting between his legs and bending down to kiss along his hips.
“Youʼll never get it out of me.ˮ He groans.
“Is that a promise or a challenge?ˮ I ask, not breaking eye contact as I place a kiss on his sensitive head.
“Challenge? Would I…challenge you?ˮ He still holds onto a moment of sanity, until I take him in my mouth, and itʼs lost with a sigh of, “Oh, would I.ˮ
I bob my head, my practiced motions coming in handy now. The usually-full-of- remarks Spencer Reid folds under my touch, soft deep moans and babble of confessions and wish I could pull your hair passing his lips while I work him out.
After a few moments of this, I let him free - at least from the torture of my lips.
“Where are you going? Please, I wanna cum for you, Iʼll tell you everything I did while I couldnʼt stand to wait for you.ˮ He keens.
“Oh, Iʼm far from done with you, Spence.ˮ I slowly, agonizingly slowly, climb back on top of him, making sure to back right up against him as he tightens against the cuffs. “Donʼt you worry, Iʼll have every measly confession pouring from you. You know I will.ˮ
“Please, let me out- Gotta touch you, I just gotta-ˮ
“Shh, be good for me, wonʼt you?ˮ I lift myself over his face, pressing my folds to his lips. “Unless you wanna stay in those forever.ˮ
He shakes his head, vibrating a ‘noʼ against me.
“Good. Now youʼre gonna pay your dues and clean up the mess youʼve made.ˮ
Eagerly, he laps at me like heʼs never had it before. His utter submissiveness overwhelms him, letting me ride his face to my hearts content. Words are muffled and entirely lost in it, and I know by now that the sounds Iʼm making alone will be heard, but I donʼt really care. Iʼm too far gone in how good it feels to finally have him making me cum again.
“Can I touch you now?ˮ
I slide back onto him, teasingly letting myself rest with just the edge of him pressing into my folds.
“Can you?ˮ I look pointedly at his wrists.
“I-oh, my god, clearly not, but-ˮ
“How about this?ˮ I amend. “You give me a confession, you get a reward. Sound fair?ˮ
“Yeah, sounds just fine. I couldnʼt get off without coming here, you realize that, donʼt you? Youʼre the only thing that gets me off anymo-Oh-ˮ His confession is cut short as I slide him a bit further in, just enough to spur him further. “I mean, I get off, donʼt get me wrong here. But nothing feels as good as when itʼs with you. Nothing.ˮ
“Keep going, youʼre doing good.ˮ I praise, sinking a bit deeper.
“Goddamn you feel so good.ˮ He moans. “Like, my hands canʼt even come close to this, are you kidding? I can try all I want, and believe me, I have - Oh, my god, please donʼt stop - Iʼve been trying all the time, I admit that, canʼt hardly stand being around you and not being able to just fuck you whenever I want.ˮ
I push down further, the stretch he gives me loosing my own moan. “How much do you wanna fuck me, Spence? Tell me, please.ˮ
“God, all the time. Itʼs all I can think about when I get down to it - baby, can I please touch you now?ˮ
“Punishment is a bitch, isnʼt it, Reid?ˮ I smirk, starting to push him in and out of me, slowly and with a devious grin that falters at just how damn good it is.
“Baby, Iʼm gonna get outta these and fuck you so good-ˮ
“Try it.ˮ I raise an eyebrow, stopping my motions.
“Oh- No, Iʼm sorry, please donʼt stop. Iʼll be good, I promise.ˮ
“Yeah, you will.ˮ I drop as far as I can take him, savoring the stuttered animalistic groan he lets out as I press down onto him, pulling his hair and moving my hips around him. As he is want to do, heʼs thrusting up into me, even if heʼs unable to reach me with his hands held up as they are. “Eager, sweet boy. Iʼm gonna ruin you.ˮ
And ruin him, I do. The tension and heat in my belly rides and breaks several times, with him unable to form real words except for the continuous begging of please donʼt stop repeated on a loop until I feel Iʼm satisfied with his demeanor.
Once Iʼve tortured him enough, I reach for the cuffs, ready to let him off the leash - knowing that once I do, the balance will shift. Truthfully, Iʼm just eager to let him be true to his word and fuck me like heʼs been dying to.
“You donʼt need any more confessions from me, then?ˮ He huffs, sweat slicked across his brow from the effort of holding back - though heʼs not really done so, has he?
“One last one, I suppose.ˮ I pull off of him, and the pout he gives nearly makes me sit right back down on him again.
“Alright, Iʼll be good and honest with you, then.ˮ He continues while I set to unlocking the cuffs, “You know the other day, just after we got the final piece of evidence put together?ˮ
I nod.
ˮI was so psyched, I couldʼve taken you right there. I donʼt care that everyone would have known, would have seen. Itʼs just something you do to me.ˮ He finishes, his tone light. Oh boy, Iʼm about to get railed. “I love you. And now Iʼm gonna fuck you like Iʼve been wanting to for weeks.ˮ
No sooner is he free, tearing off the shirt he was wearing and looming over me with the hungriest of looks at my body before pressing himself into me. No wait, no teasing - heʼs not got the control for it, clearly, and Iʼm not complaining one bit.
“Next time, you get the cuffs, pretty girl.ˮ He promises, his hands all over my body now that he can manage it. Hard, precise thrusts, his voice heavy and fucked-out.
“And Iʼll show you just what Iʼve been wanting to do that Iʼm gonna savor in my mind after.ˮ
My nails are leaving deep trails in his back, surely leading to marks that would raise questions if anyone else saw. Heʼs so far in me, almost bottomed out, and itʼs almost too much and yet not enough all at once. I pull him closer, and his hand tangles in my hair while the other clasps around my throat.
“Youʼre all mine.ˮ Spencer growls - truly, thereʼs not other word for it, the purely animal drive taking him to a world where itʼs just us, just this. And Iʼm there too, crying out with the ecstasy his body causes my own.
“All yours.ˮ
“Thatʼs right, pretty girl. Say it for me, I wanna hear you say it.ˮ
“Iʼm all yours, Spence- oh, my god-ˮ
“Good, thatʼs good. My pretty girl. Youʼre so tight, you feel so good wrapped around me, donʼt you? God, what a sight.ˮ Here he is, in his rambles now, and I can hardly contain how close I am. “Wanna tell everyone this is mine. Iʼm the only one that gets to have you, gets to fuck you like this. See you break for me. Only me.ˮ
“Only you, Spence, only you-ˮ
“Cʼmon, I know youʼre close, I can feel it. You get so much tighter, god, if itʼs even possible-ˮ
“Spencer-ˮ
“Thatʼs my girl, cum for me.ˮ
“Donʼt stop-ˮ I can feel the cord in me ready to snap, chasing my most intense orgasm of the night with his words and the feeling of him slamming so deep inside me. “More, Spence, you can give me more-ˮ
“Sweet girl, of course, I know you can handle it.ˮ He pushes himself fully in, my breath catching at the slight pain, yet itʼs still so good, I canʼt stop it, I donʼt want to. “Want me to fuck you so good with all of me, donʼt you?ˮ
I nod against his grasp, and he loosens it a bit, kissing me fervently.
“Please, please cum for me, I wanna feel you all over me, beautiful.ˮ He reaches down, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit. Itʼs the last thing I need to send me over that edge, and I cry out, his name slipping past my lips unwarranted. “Oh, baby, love how you say my name. Like itʼs a prayer, like Iʼm a god.ˮ
“Donʼt stop, Spence-ˮ
“Iʼm close, baby- Oh, I wanna cum in you-ˮ
Another orgasm follows near immediately after this one, and Iʼm grasping at him while heʼs chasing his own, his hands fumbling and his thrusts getting sloppy. He grips the sheets, his breaths stunted.
“Cum in me, please-ˮ
“Iʼm gonna, god, Iʼm so fuckinʼ close-ˮ He tightens around me, muscles shaking as he lets loose, and now itʼs his turn to moan my name a lot louder than he should while he cums. Heʼs so pretty when he does, too - the crease that works between his brows, the round pucker to his lips. Partly through, he kisses me, hard. And when heʼs done, his grip loosens, falling slack on top of me with a contented sigh.
A few moments pass where he just holds me, peppering soft kisses across my face and telling me you did such a good job, baby. Then, he pops up with a smile and comes back with water and a towel, cleaning up after himself.
“Satisfied?ˮ I chuckle, slowly pulling my clothes back on.
“Almost.ˮ He dips his head down, capturing a nipple in his mouth for a few moments. I groan, overstimulated, but still too happy to appease him. “Now, Iʼm satisfied. Iʼm staying in here, okay? Donʼt care if someone sees at this point.ˮ
“Spence?ˮ
“Mmhm?ˮ
“I love you, too.ˮ
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strawbeerossi · 7 months
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Telephone
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: You and Spencer miss each other whenever he is on a week long case. A phone call should help fix that.
Content/Warnings: Mutual masturbation, phone sex, course language. Let me know if I missed anything
Word Count: 1.3K
Kinktober Day Fifteen: Telephonicophilia
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
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Dating a man who could be gone for weeks at a time could be frustrating. Especially on nights like tonight where you were desperate.
You’d decided on picking up a new erotic novel later on that evening after work, a glass of wine beside you on your nightstand while your eyes relished in the smut in your hands. Normally, things like this wouldn’t affect you.. However, Spencer had been gone for a week already, so you had been reduced to a state of touch deprived that you know Spencer would have fun dealing with.
Now a week isn’t a long time to go without sex for some people but you and Spencer have been a different breed lately, sex happening a lot more frequently than you’d care to admit. The girls at work teased you, saying you came in every shift with a post sex glow. The sad part was, you couldn’t even argue.
This week was tough, the stress of your life weighing heavy on you while you were struggling to keep yourself afloat. Talking to Spencer helped, it did. However the normal stress reliever you turned to was out of your reach.
As you’d kept your attention on the text in your hand, you could feel arousal pooling at a particular scene you were stuck on. You missed Spencer.. 
Unbeknownst to you, he missed you just as much. The impending stress on the case was suffocating him, the unsub knowing what he was doing and able to cover his tracks easily. A week of overanalyzing to the point his big, beautiful brain hurt, he needed a break. “Emily, I just got a message from my mom’s facility, I need to give them a call. Do you mind if I step out?” It was easy for Spencer to lie through his teeth, the unit chief looking at him with a face of concern. “That’s fine, that’s fine. Keep me updated.” She instructed, which made the brunette nod before he was heading out of the conference room. “Is there an open room that I can use? Urgent phone call.” He was holding up his phone to the police chief, who nodded as he led the male to an empty office. 
As soon as the door was shut, Spencer was locking it and tugging down the blinds of the window looking in the office before scrolling through his contacts. As soon as he got to you, he took in a breath as he was calling, heading over to sit on the edge of the desk. 
“Spencer!” Your voice cheered from the other side, causing a smile to spread across his face. “Hey! I just needed to hear your voice. There’s no sign of this case ending anytime soon..” He frowned, even if you couldn’t see him. “You guys will catch this guy. You always do.” You cooed softly while letting your hand lift the wine glass to sip from it. “I’m glad you called, honestly.. I miss you.”
“I miss you too.. What are you wearing tonight, if you don’t mind me asking?” 
Your lip was tucked between your teeth while sitting up a bit straighter. “I’m wearing your Cal-Tech sweater and underwear. You know I steal your clothes to sleep.” It was a given on what attire you were adorned to sleep in.
“I love when you wear my clothes.. God, I miss you. What are you doing? Reading that book, I bet.” He spoke while chuckling softly. “Mind taking a break from your reading? I need you right now.”
The way his voice dropped to a low tone had your pussy clenching around nothing. He needed you so bad he was calling while in the middle of a case. “I don’t mind.”
“Good. Leave the sweatshirt on but get rid of your panties.” He spoke, leaning back against the desk as he could feel his cock hardening at the visual playing through his mind. Thank god for eidetic memory. It was like he could see you right now.
“I’m so wet that it’s uncomfortable.” You whined, finger running through your slit to collect your slick on the digit while brushing against your clit with a shaky breath. 
“I bet.. My poor girl.” He sighed, already working on his belt to get it yanked from his pant loops before tossing it beside him on the desk, hand already pulling his throbbing cock from his pants. “I wish I could be there right now, have you squirming underneath me.” He spoke while letting out a low groan as his hand was wrapping around his hard cock, slowly tugging at his dick.
The idea of being between her legs right now was heaven, however his job just had to get in the way. “Why don’t you toy with that pretty little clit of yours, hmm? Wanna hear you moan for me. Show me how much you miss me.”
Your finger swiped over your throbbing clit, the nub sending electricity through your bones as you let your head tilt back with a moan. “It doesn’t feel as good when I have to do it.” You said softly, soft breaths leaving your lips as you massage the bundle of nerves between your legs.
“I know. You’d be pushing back on my fingers by now, crying and desperate for more.” He smirked, his hand speeding up along his cock. Due to the precum bubbling over his swollen tip, he had plenty of lube to easily glide his hand along his shaft. 
“Go ahead and push a finger into that sweet, leaking pussy. I bet you’re soaked just from hearing my voice.” His words were like honey, you drinking it up as you complied with the demand, sinking your pointer finger into your tight cunt. The squelching sound of your greedy pussy sucking in as much of your finger as it could get had you tossing your head back as you let out a moan, your other hand holding the phone clutching the electronic tightly. 
“You sound so beautiful. God, I can’t wait to get home,” Spencer was whimpering out, the boyish sounds making him sound more innocent than he truly was. “My hand doesn’t even compare to that tight cunt. I bet she is desperate for me,” He grunted as his pace sped up.
“Add another finger, I know that you’re desperate for more.” His words were husky as he let his head tilt back while a few needy whines fell from his lips.
This phone call was what both of you desperately needed, hearing each other to fuel the fantasies flooding both of your brains. This was a time when you wished you could stomach working at the FBI just to always be close to Spencer. 
“I’m gonna cum.” You warned, fingers curling and brushing barely against the spongy button inside of you that you just couldn’t reach by yourself. “Fuck. Cum on those fingers, baby. Wanna hear you.” He panted, feeling a bead of sweat running down the back of his neck as his hand moved quickly, his cock twitching in his grasp. Hearing you cry his name in orgasmic bliss was what pushed Spencer over the edge, his cum glazing over his knuckles as he let out a whimper of your name. 
There was a brief silence shared between you both as you two caught your breath. 
“Please come home soon..” You finally whispered, pushing yourself to sit up in your shared bed so you could stand and go wash your hands in the bathroom. 
“I’m gonna catch this guy today, trust me. I love and miss you.” His voice was soft, the both of you sharing your goodbyes, you were both hanging up. 
Distance was hard.
The way Spencer fucked you whenever he did end up getting home later the next night was harder.
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snixkers · 1 month
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Science Fair
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Pairing: Spencer Reid × GN!Reader
Fluff, minor angst
For: Anonymous Request
Content Warnings: Missing a child's science fair, pretty much nothing, he feels bad for not going
Summary: After missing the science fair, Spencer makes it up to your daughter
Author's Note: In this house, we believe in girldad Spencer. Forgot the request said 3 kids, sorry!
Feedback is always welcome!
Requests are OPEN
He was an idiot.
An IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and 3 PhD’s could not prevent him from being the dumbest man in the world. He had missed his daughter’s first science fair.
To be fair, he was on a case across the country, but it was a promise that he had made and then subsequently broke.
When he got home, the house was quiet as everyone else slept. He crawled into bed, not having enough energy to change, and fell asleep.
The next morning, it was about the same level of silent treatment. You got your daughter to school on time before coming back to get ready for work. He made you breakfast, which you ignored in favor of a granola bar, and was ready with flowers for an apology. Unfortunately for him, you weren’t in a forgiving mood.
This wasn’t the first time he had missed something important. He had a busy job, and sometimes, it took priority. But it had never been as bad as this. There were few things more precious than a child winning something, and he hadn’t even called to celebrate.
He felt terrible, but his daughter’s reaction was the worst part. She was slowly starting to think that she wasn’t the center of his universe, and that scared him.
He had to fix this. First, he called in to work, taking a week's worth of the vacation days he had saved up. Then he packed everyone’s suitcases, taking extra care to make sure you all had what you needed. Then he waited.
-----
When you got home with your daughter, you were confused. As far as you were aware, no one had planned any trips. Was something wrong?
Spencer noticed the look on your face and quickly explained his plan to you before leaning down to talk to your daughter.
“How do you feel about going on vacation?”
She nodded eagerly, setting her backpack down on the floor.
“I wanna go to the moon.”
You both laughed at her request, unsure how to break the news that traveling to the moon wasn't an option.
“Anywhere on Earth?”
She nodded, holding up the stuffed elephant she had won at the science fair.
“Ice cream.”
Spencer’s smile faltered slightly, but you reached down to reassure him. He wanted to make it up to her with some grand gesture, like taking her to the beach or Disney World. But she didn’t care where they were, as long as she was with her dad.
He kissed her forehead and nodded, standing back up.
“I’m going to go unpack and then we can have ice cream.”
She smiled at him, showing off a gap in her front teeth where a tooth once stood a couple weeks ago.
“Then we can watch Frozen.”
This suggestion had him groaning internally, but you managed to guilt-trip him into sitting down for the whole movie. If you had to see Frozen five times a week, so would he.
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daisyy345 · 8 months
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how your instagram would look like if you were dating spencer pt5
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yourusername
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liked by ellegreenaway, meangirljj and others
yourusername passenger princess? no. passenger survivor
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boywonder dont lie i treat u like a princess 😠
yourusername mhm..
derekm69 is he even old enough to drive?
emprentiss i could take u anywhere u want gorgeous
pennygirl me too babygirl
yourusername thank u my loves 😚
boywonder hello??? she is MY girlfriend
emprentiss too slow genius 🥱
ssahotch so my driving lessons were for nothing?
ellegreenaway WDYM I TAUGHT HIM HOW TO DRIVE
yourusername
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liked by emprentiss, derekm69 and others
yourusername spent the whole afternoon arguing about a piece HE LOST but it was a cute idea ig 😒
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boywonder honey i have an eidetic memory, you were the one in charge of the roof.
yourusername NO I WASNT U WERE
emprentiss never his fault right 😒
yourusername never 😒
boywonder hey
meangirljj so cute!!
davidrossi ❤️
derekm69 idk how this idea could have ever been fun
yourusername stfu
yourusername
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liked by ssahotch, pennygirl and others
yourusername let the matriarchy begin 🥷🏼
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emprentiss from subs to unsubs
yourusername EXCUSE ME??
pennygirl yes miss nairobi 🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️
derekm69 not gonna get far w those masks 🥴🥴
yourusername u know nothing about fashion
pennygirl agreed
ssahotch this was not what i meant when i said to go undercover
yourusername ur fault for not being specific
boywonder yes what else did you expect?
yourusername
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liked by ssahotch, davidrossi and others
yourusername my injured soldier from war 🤕🥰
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derekm69 fly high🕊
yourusername 🪦🪦
pennygirl aye aye captain
emprentiss gone but not forgotten 😔✊🏻
yourusername 🙏🏻
meangirljj omg
yourusername he is a bit clumsy
yourusername
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liked by meangirljj, boywonder and others
yourusername pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks 💋
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pennygirl thats how you get the girl
derekm69 cringe
emprentiss i second that
yourusername hey 😕
boywonder love you 💞
ellegreenway cutes
meangirljj 💟
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eternalizms · 2 months
Text
CLOWN-FISH ↳ SPENCER REID
゚ . . ・ ゜ ゜ ・ ・ ゜ ゜ ・ .
WARNINGSꜜ drug use, pot, stoner!spencer, general fluff.
SUMMARYꜜ you come home to a very high, and very clingy spencer after a long week. (wc; 946)
AUTHORS NOTEꜜ i cannot get stoner!spencer out of my head for the life of me, so please enjoy my desperate attempt of putting my ideas into a drabble of sorts! this is my first time writing and posting, so it may not be the best ahh! i understand this isn't for everyone, feel free to send me any reqs!
゚ . . ・ ゜ ゜ ・ ・ ゜ ゜ ・ .
THE FIRST TIME spencer tried weed went exactly how you'd expect it to. he was seventeen, halfway through completing his first doctorate in mathematics. the dingy leather couch felt rough against the skin on his hands. he anxiously looked about the room. he felt awkward, and out of place, listening to the music that was playing from a speaker god knows where. for about a month before, spencer had been overwhelmed with a sense that he was missing something in his life. he had decided, after careful calculation, that he was missing a sense of rebellion, that most people his age seemed to have.
spencer was handed the lit joint, he had never smoked before, but it couldn't be that hard. the sweet-ish scent of pot filled the room, his fingers brought it towards his lips as his eyes stayed focused on the joint. he inhaled in, feeling the harsh smoke immediately hit his throat. his face contorted funnily as he spluttered and coughed out, sending a cloud of smoke flying out his mouth. it took him a moment to recover, taking a few deep breaths in between. after collecting himself, he had inhaled another toke, still slightly perplexed at how harsh the smoke is on his throat, but pleased with how being rebellious felt so far.
his shoulders slumped as he leaned back into the sofa, enjoying the high taking over. from that moment on, he was in love. his brain seemed to finally slow, it was a refreshing break. he felt present in the moment for the first time in his life. spencer spent most evening of his weekends in college; stoned. of course, being in the BAU means he doesn't get to enjoy it nearly as much as he used to, but sometimes on an odd week off he rarely gets, he reminds himself of his college days - by getting high.
this was one of these weeks. spencer was slumped against the sofa, a nature documentary about clown-fish buzzing in the background. the key in the door turned with a familiar click, letting him know you're home. you stand in the doorway, a small frown playing on your lips when you realise spencer isn't at the door to greet you like usual. you walk into the living-room with a pout, wondering if he hadn't heard you?. not noticing spencer's current state, you plop yourself down on the sofa beside spencer; sighing with sweet relief as you slid your shoes off.
you notice the silence after a minute, turning your attention towards spencer. you immediately know. with a small chuckle, your hand reaches towards his face, fingertips skimming his jaw as you take him in with your eyes; wishing for his eidetic memory in that moment, so you wouldn't forget it. his hair was slightly out of place, perfectly accompanying the sleepy look across his glossy bloodshot eyes, it was a delicious sight.
your hands find their way to the back of his hair, fingers raking through the curls. he leans into your touch, closing his eyes in content with a low hum. your touch felt addicting to him. clingy was an understatement. he scooted himself closer to you.
"missed you." a light mumble left his lips as he peered towards you , head resting on your shoulder as you sat behind him. spencer's need to just be near you was overwhelming. he sits up, slightly hazed from his high - only difference being the stupid grin on his face. he sat back against the sofa, hands sliding up your thighs as he guides you onto his lap. his head hangs low in the crook of your neck, arms snaking up your torso - simply holding you as close as he possibly can.
spencer inhaled your perfume in with a happy sigh, nuzzling his head into your neck closer. your chest vibrated against him as you laughed ever-so sweetly, hands sliding back into place in his hair. he was in total heaven. your skin felt on fire as his fingers slid past the seam of your shirt, his hands expertly kneading up and down your torso, as spencer held you. he debated telling you a super fun clown-fish fact. he finally pulled his head up. he went to speak, mouth opening; but no words came out.
a light whine left his lips as he watched you laugh, head falling back into the crook of your neck. he struggled to keep up his huff the more you playfully teased him about his IQ now being significantly lower. after a minute, you cooed softly - a single small laugh escaping, pulling him in for a hug.
fortunately, no words were needed as you both settled down for the evening, eager hands grabbing a fluffy white blanket and chucking it over the both of your laps. spencer's inevitable munchies had resulted in a bowl of popcorn sat between you, legs intertwined. his arm draped over your shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. every so often his hand would reach into the bowl and grab an outrageously large handful of popcorn; before his best attempt at fitting it all in his mouth. your laugh filled the cosy room, unable to stop staring at the trainwreck currently happening in front of your eyes. you fit in his arm like a puzzle piece, the scent of his cologne mixed with weed emanating off his shirt.
you pay more attention to the nature documentary playing. spencer; now a lot more awake, began telling you the clownfish facts he suddenly remembered again. "clownfish have an average life-span of six to ten years in the wild, they are also all born male.".
゚ . . ・ ゜ ゜ ・ ・ ゜ ゜ ・ .
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suzukiblu · 4 months
Note
Parasite WIP is so good and I desperately want more of it! I voted for it in the poll and I’m so sad it didn’t win
Friend, I appreciate you asking after it because it really is one of my fucked-up faves that I really need to work on more, so uh . . . have all 4500 words of the prose so far all together, hahaha. Yes, yes I DID reformat this whole thing into Tumblr-friendliness all for you. THAT IS HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE YOUR APPRECIATION, FRIEND. ( so definitely we are gonna need that read-more down there, lol. )
Clark wakes up. 
Clark didn't even know he wasn't awake. 
"Superman," Bruce says with absolute neutrality. He's wearing the cowl. Standing in rubble. Clark is . . . not standing in rubble. 
Laying in rubble. That's what Clark is doing. 
Bruce is looking down at him very, very carefully, and seems . . . reserved. 
Reserved for Bruce, even. 
"What happened?" Clark asks, trying not to concentrate on the little seed of dread that the sight of that reservation invokes in him. He can hear the heartbeats of other League members, here and there in the wreckage of the street around them. Hear civilians and city noise. Hear Lois and Jon, distantly, and Ma and Pa, even more distant. And . . . Kara–both of her–and . . . 
"We'll go with 'electrocution', but I think we can safely say just about anyone else would've been virtually incinerated," Bruce informs him, distracting Clark from his mental rundown of people he's currently worried about. "Or just exploded."
"Ah," Clark says with a grimace. Well, that explains why his head hurts so damn bad, he guesses.
At least it was him, then, and not any "anyone else"s. 
He pushes himself up. Looks around. He . . . isn't sure where they are, exactly, except that it's probably somewhere on Earth and within the continental United States, judging by the architecture and signs he's seeing and the accents and languages he's hearing. 
He has absolutely no idea how they got here, though. The last thing he remembers is . . . 
. . . he's not actually sure what the last thing he remembers is. 
Not a great sign, that.  
Bruce is watching him. Like he's . . . expecting something, almost. Clark would ask, but there's an odd feeling distracting him. Something's . . . off, somehow. 
Missing. 
Bruce's utility belt is a new design, he notes absently. J'onn is down the street a bit and his costume looks a little different too. And Diana . . . 
Diana is over across the way, and her hair is a couple inches longer than he remembers it being. 
Clark would assume he was mistaken, except for the eidetic memory and all. 
"Hm," Clark says. 
"Hm?" Bruce says. He still sounds faultlessly neutral. 
"Trying to figure out if I'm in the right reality. Things look a little off," Clark replies, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes in concentration. No unexpected sounds or scents. No particular feeling of disorientation that can't be accounted for by being apparently electrocuted. No additional pains past the dull pressure in his head or any immediately obvious peculiarities beyond the minor little scattered differences here and there in his teammates. 
But something is–
"I can't hear Kon," Clark realizes abruptly. He doesn't usually especially keep an ear out for the kid, at least not deliberately, but . . . 
Bruce . . . pauses. 
"You can't," he says, very carefully. It doesn't sound like a question. 
It sounds like something, though. 
"I can't," Clark confirms anyway, glancing around again. He still doesn't know where this is. "Where are we, exactly?" 
"What's the date, Kal?" Bruce asks, and Clark's heart sinks. 
He answers the question. 
Bruce's mouth thins. 
Hell, Clark thinks. 
"We're currently in Keystone City," Bruce says, very carefully expressionless. "We've been here for three days. The date you just provided me was a full fourteen months ago. And Kon-El has been MIA for roughly thirteen and a half of those months." 
Hell, Clark thinks, and doesn't let himself process anything past that. 
"We need to get a scan of your brain," Bruce says. "For starters." 
"For starters," Clark agrees tightly. 
Bruce tells Diana they're leaving, then abandons the rubble and takes Clark up to the Watchtower. Clark goes. He doesn't ask what electrocuted him or who's died in the past fourteen months or if there's anything immediately urgent that he should know. Bruce would've already told him, if there was. 
And he thinks he'd choke on the question if he tried, anyway. 
They go to the med bay. There's a total stranger standing in it who smiles at them when they step through the door. 
"Haven't seen you in here in quite a while, Superman," the stranger observes in amusement, tapping a pen against the clipboard in their hands. "You still haven't been in for that checkup I owe you, you know." 
"He doesn't know you," Bruce informs them evenly. The stranger blinks. 
"Sorry?" they say. 
"He was electrocuted," Bruce says. "Now he thinks it's fourteen months ago. We need a brain scan. Immediately." 
"Hell," the stranger says, their eyes widening in alarm. 
Clark gets the brain scan. 
He and Bruce wait in a convenient exam room for the results, which seem to be taking a while. Bruce seems a bit more guarded than usual, which means Clark is standing next to goddamn Fort Knox right now. He sighs to himself. 
"Suppose at this rate I should call and tell Lois and Jon I'll be late for dinner," he jokes wryly as he folds his arms, no real humor in the comment, and Bruce goes very, very still beside him. 
. . . hell. 
They're not dead. He knows they're not dead, he heard their heartbeats before they left for the watchtower, Bruce would've already told him if either of them were–
"They aren't expecting you," Bruce says with absolutely no intonation whatsoever in his voice. "You moved out eight months ago. The divorce is already finalized." 
"Ah," Clark says, very slowly. He doesn't let himself process, again. Not–just, not yet. "What happened?" 
"You left them," Bruce says, and Clark . . . blinks. 
"I left them?!" he demands incredulously. Leaving Lois is one thing, horrible and impossible a thought as it is, but– "Not just–I left them both?!"
"As you explained it to me, you were no longer interested in maintaining the . . . 'persona' of Clark Kent," Bruce replies carefully, looking just past him. "You said you couldn't stand the screaming anymore. That you appreciated us . . . humoring you for so long, but you couldn't just keep walking around making excuses and lying to everyone while people were suffering and dying just because you had to pretend to be human for a while. So yes. You left them. Haven't visited since Lois finally signed the divorce papers. Haven't spoken to your parents either. You've been . . . erratic. Since Kon-El's disappearance. When we couldn't find him . . . when we couldn't even find out what happened to him . . ." 
"Oh," Clark says, and his heart sinks again. 
He doesn't understand, though. Kon is–he cares about the kid, obviously. Cares very deeply about him. He's pretty sure he even loves him, at this point. But he's not . . . 
It feels terrible to think it, but Clark doesn't understand why Kon disappearing like that would affect him enough to stop being Clark. It's awful, and he still hasn't let himself actually think about it happening at all because he really can't process it right now, but that awful? Really? Awful enough to abandon being any semblance of a normal person? Abandon Lois and his parents entirely? 
Abandon Jon entirely? 
Apparently, yes. 
"Technically you're on unpaid sabbatical from the Planet," Bruce tells him. "We thought you might . . . reconsider, once you'd grieved properly, so Lois pulled some strings with Perry White. He thinks you're having an early mid-life crisis and your co-workers think you're off finding yourself in South America with a bad cell phone plan." 
"I guess I don't believe in satellite phones?" Clark says, trying for wry again. It doesn't work, but he tries all the same. 
"This is unfair of me, but I'm going to take advantage of your current mental state," Bruce says. He's looking at the wall, though there's nothing there to actually be looking at. Not even anything on the other side, at least not according to X-ray vision. "Try to remember how you feel right now, when your memories of the past year return. Try to remember who you are right now, when those memories return."
"Why?" Clark asks, watching him carefully as he does. The corners of Bruce's mouth tighten. Just barely, but undeniably. 
"You've been . . . gone, Clark," Bruce says slowly. "You won't even answer to 'Clark' anymore. You aren't the same man that I . . . that we all . . ." 
The stranger comes back before Bruce has to admit to too many personal feelings or Clark can figure out what to say to any of that, which might be a mercy but might also be–
The stranger looks . . . strange, Clark notices. Nauseated, almost. And definitely distressed. 
"I haven't done brain scans on Superman before," they say, their grip on their clipboard concerningly close to white-knuckled. "And my predecessor apparently hadn't done any in a while either. Last ones in the system are over two years old." 
"What's wrong?" Bruce says, narrowing his eyes. Honestly at this point Clark figures a kryptonite brain tumor would really just be the icing on the cake, and frankly would probably explain some of his apparent behavioral changes and current memory loss. That genuinely makes more sense than anything else, really, even with grief and guilt to contend with.
More sense than abandoning his own damn kid does, at least. 
Although a tumor's the worst-case scenario, obviously. And it can't be any worse than that, really, or any worse than anything he's apparently done to his family this past year, so at least he's braced for–
"There's an . . . organism," the stranger says, swallowing uncomfortably. "In your brain." 
"What?" Clark says. 
"A dead organism, now," the stranger clarifies. "But it looks like it's been there for a while. There are . . . roots. And . . . lesions, too." 
"An organism," Bruce repeats very, very slowly. "In Superman's brain." 
"Yes," the stranger says. 
"I don't . . ." Clark trails off. 
"We need more scans," Bruce says. 
"I ran it four times on two different machines," the stranger says. "It's organic. It's not giving off any recognizable life signs. It seems like it might've been . . . you mentioned electrocution, before?" 
"You think the electricity killed it," Bruce realizes. "And then Superman forgot fourteen months?" 
"I'm not sure Superman ever experienced those fourteen months to begin with," the stranger says tightly, gripping their clipboard even harder. 
Clark was in no way whatsoever braced for this. 
"Fuck," Bruce says. 
More scans happen after all. A lot more scans, a lot of specialists, and a lot of arguing. Everything's a bit of a blur, in a sense. Clark absorbs very little of it, and mostly leaves things to Bruce unless he's asked a direct question about his medical history. His judgment might be compromised right now, after all, whether the . . . organism is dead or not. 
The emergency OR gets prepped. The red sun lamps get set up inside it. 
"Should we contact Lois?" Bruce asks as Clark's shrugging into an ill-fitting hospital gown and preparing himself to possibly die in pursuit of getting a dead who-knows-what out of his brain before it can start to rot there and potentially kill him that way. "Or your parents?" 
"No," Clark says. "Just get this damn thing out of my head." 
If he doesn't survive the removal process . . . 
They don't know what's been going on. What he let happen to himself, somehow.
He isn't going to tell them he's back just to immediately take himself away again. 
He records something for Jon, just in case. It's not enough, but it's–something, he tells himself. It's something. 
It's all he can bring himself to do. 
He leaves the disk with the recording on it with Bruce and asks him to have Dick deliver it, if it's necessary. 
Things proceed from there, and Clark wakes up again a week later in a private room in the med bay, connected to half a dozen machines and needles and tubes and directly facing the sun. Diana is dozing in the chair next to his bed. Bruce is pacing at the foot of it. They're both in costume. Clark feels weak and groggy, but he can hear half a dozen other heartbeats lingering in the hall, so presumably they were expecting him to wake up around now. 
"Mm," he says. Diana snaps awake. Bruce stops mid-step. 
They both look at him. 
"The operation was a success," Bruce informs him. "Textbook. Or as textbook as removing a mind-controlling parasite of unknown origins from a Kryptonian brain can get for mostly-human surgeons, anyway." 
"Do you need anything?" Diana asks. "Would you like us to call your family yet?" 
Clark shakes his head, then closes his eyes and sleeps for another week. 
"Sleep", he supposes, counts as something that he needs right now. 
The next time he wakes up, he's alone in his room and disconnected from the machines and just feels . . . normal, really. Like nothing was ever wrong at all and he didn't just have major surgery that was, essentially, the equivalent of multiple traumatic brain injuries. His hair is already starting to grow back from where it was buzzed down for the surgery, and there's not even any bandages on his head. 
There's no noticeable scarring, Clark observes when he makes it to the little ensuite bathroom to take a look in the mirror. The surgeons told him there probably wouldn't be, given both the methods they'd been intending to use and the nature of his own physiology, but seeing the total lack of proof of what happened to him is just . . . strange, somehow. 
It feels almost like a cheat. Like it should be obvious, in some way. 
There was a parasite in his head. Something controlling him. Pretending to be him. Passing for him. It could've done anything it wanted. 
It did do things that Clark still has no idea about. 
So many things. 
He couldn't even fight it. Wasn't conscious or aware enough to, or just not strong enough to, or just . . . 
He couldn't even fight it. 
And he doesn't know what it did. 
The door opens. Diana walks in. 
"Would you like us to call your family now?" she asks. 
"Yes," Clark says roughly, curling his fingers around the sides of the sink in front of him. "Please." 
"Of course," Diana says with a terrible and merciless gentleness. 
Clark sits down on the lid of the toilet and just . . . cries. Just for a minute. 
Or twenty. 
Diana kneels in front of him and holds his hands in her own. 
Fourteen months, Clark thinks, all twisted up with grief and pain and so, so much regret. He missed so much. He wasn't there for Jon or Lois or his parents. He wasn't there for Bruce or Diana or the League, for either of Kara, for . . . 
For Kon. He wasn't there for Kon. 
Wasn't there for Kon when the kid needed him. 
Kon completely vanished, and who knows if the damn parasite even pretended to help look for him? If it did anything at all for him? Who knows if Clark could've found him, could've saved him, if he'd still been himself at the time? 
. . . who knows if the parasite isn't what made Kon disappear to begin with? 
It took fourteen months of Clark's life, and Kon . . . Kon disappeared two weeks into those fourteen months. 
If nothing else, the timing is a screaming red flag. 
Clark abandoned his son and might've murdered a kid who only ever looked up to him, a kid who he was never really able to fully understand but literally named, and he can't do anything to bring Kon back or to make up for the year that he wasn't there for the rest of his family. 
Their family. 
God, what has he done? What has Clark done, and did Kon die feeling afraid or shocked or terrified? Did he die feeling betrayed? Did he think it was Clark doing it, however it happened? 
Did he die thinking Clark wanted him to die? 
Clark doesn't even know what happened to his body. 
There won't be another resurrection.  
Clark chokes. Diana squeezes his hands. He grips hers like a lifeline and shudders through it. The grief is a terrible, ugly thing. It's one of the worst things Clark's ever felt. 
The guilt is worse. 
"Lois," he murmurs finally, feeling like the weakest man alive. "Could you call . . . Lois, please, and just . . . ask if she'll come. I'll explain it all to her, just–could you call her, please." 
"Yes," Diana says, squeezing his hands again. "Of course." 
"Thank you," Clark says. 
He pulls himself together, more or less, and Diana goes to make the call. She comes back a few minutes later and tells him Lois agreed, but needs to find a babysitter first. Clark in no way blames her for not bringing Jon along and frankly is surprised she's willing to come at all. 
He's not sure what he could even say to Jon right now. 
What can he? 
Diana makes sure he eats something, then leaves for monitor duty. Clark tries not to overthink things. Tries not to think too much at all. 
He spent fourteen months not thinking at all, though, all of it lost in one oblivious blink, so that doesn't work out all that well for him. 
An hour later, he hears the Zeta platform activate on the opposite side of the base, and hears Lois's heartbeat appear inside the watchtower. 
Clark exhales, very slowly. 
He waits. 
Lois comes to the med bay. She doesn't stop to talk to anyone on the way. Doesn't talk to anyone except that stranger Clark still doesn't actually know the name of, who tells her where to find him. 
And then a minute or a millennium later she's standing in the open doorway of his room, and Clark is looking at her. Her expression is neutral, and her hair is shorter than it was the last time he remembers seeing her–the last time he was the one actually seeing her. An inverse bob, not shoulder-length anymore. He recognizes the blazer and heels that she's wearing, but not the blouse or the pants. Not the earrings or the necklace, either. 
And there's no wedding ring to recognize either way. 
Clark wonders what happened to his. 
God, but she's still the most amazing woman he's ever seen, and he's still never once deserved a single part of her. Not even a fraction of a part. 
Especially not now. 
"Kal," she greets, tone just as neutral as her expression, and Clark aches. 
"Clark," he says, just a little too abrupt, and Lois–pauses. 
"Clark," she amends casually as she tucks her hands into the pockets of her blazer, and if he didn't know her quite so well he wouldn't have even heard the crack in her voice around his name, super-hearing or not. "Never seen your hair this short. I kinda miss the curl, not gonna lie. It has charm, you know? Very boy scout next door." 
"I had emergency brain surgery," Clark says. Lois pauses again. Tilts her head. He keeps talking. "Two weeks ago, now. Just woke up again fully today." 
"What?" she says, just staring at him. "You–what happened?" 
"It's . . . unclear, still," Clark replies slowly. "But as far as we can tell, roughly fourteen months back an unidentified alien parasite moved into my brain and . . . took me over, essentially. I don't actually–I don't remember any of that time. At all. Then two weeks ago I got electrocuted in Keystone and the parasite died. The surgery was to remove its body so my brain could heal from the damage it did without it rotting in there." 
Lois keeps staring at him. 
"Fourteen months," she echoes very, very carefully. 
"I'm so sorry," Clark says tightly. "Bruce told me I left you. Left you and Jon. That I stopped being . . . myself. I can't imagine how difficult that was, or how it must've felt." 
"I can't imagine how waking up and hearing that none of us even noticed you were gone felt," Lois says. 
"You never do pull a punch, do you," Clark says with a weak attempt at a smile. 
"I'm sorry," Lois says evenly. "I should've known." 
"No one did," Clark says, then . . . hesitates. "Or . . . we think no one did." 
"You think that's what happened to Kon," Lois says, because of course she's already done the math, and of course she's already had the thought herself. Obviously she would've. 
"The timing is . . . likely, at least," Clark says. "And really, if anyone was going to see my face and notice that a different person was wearing it . . ."
"You have a point," Lois murmurs. She steps into the room. Clark wants to hold her. He also wants to bury himself in the coldest, darkest place that he can find and never, ever let himself see the sun again. 
He doesn't deserve it anymore. 
"I'm so angry that I want to cry," Lois says, her voice very distant and her eyes locked on his. Clark can see her hands fisting in her pockets. "I'm so . . . god. I should've known. You never would've left Jon. Not like that." 
"Bruce made it sound like the parasite was . . . very convincing," Clark says. It convinced Bruce, who may just be the most paranoid mind on the planet, so . . .
"It was," Lois agrees, still without taking her eyes off his. "But I still should've known." 
Clark blinks a little too quickly. Lois tightens her jaw. Takes her hands out of her pockets and leaves them at her sides instead. Clark never thought he'd see them without her wedding ring again. 
"It's been–months, I know," he says, hating himself for thinking he even deserves to say this. "For you. But I still . . ." 
"I love you," Lois says. "Come home." 
There is no possible world in which he could tell her "no". 
Med bay makes him wait for another two hours of observation and runs some scans, but then they let him go. Lois waits with him the whole time. She doesn't call anyone or send any texts. Doesn't leave the room. Barely says a word. Hardly even takes her eyes off him, like she thinks if she blinks he's going to disappear. 
Clark can hardly keep her heartbeat out of his ears, so he doesn't blame her. 
He doesn't blame her at all. 
They go to Smallville. Bruce had said he'd send Dick to pick up Jon from the babysitter's and get him to the farm, and as much as Clark had wanted to go straight to him himself . . . 
Ma and Pa first, he reminds himself. This is going to be upsetting for Jon–most likely traumatic, once it all sinks in. And definitely disorienting. It'll be best if as many of the adults in his life as possible know what's going on in advance, so he can go to whoever he needs to go to; get whatever comfort they can prepare themselves to offer. 
Clark doesn't know how to do this. 
He doesn't . . . 
They don't take two steps onto the farm before a familiar blur is crashing into him head-on. 
"Oh," Clark manages, and Krypto barks excitedly and flies up to lick his face, tail wagging wildly as he jumps all over him. Like he's missed him. Like he's been waiting for him. 
Clark nearly cries again.
"Good boy, Krypto," he tells him, quiet and rough. "I missed you too, boy." 
He scratches Krypto's ears. Strokes his back. Krypto nearly bowls him over in delight. 
Clark buries his face in his neck and cries a bit after all. 
Lois watches. 
Waits. 
Clark spends . . . maybe a little bit too long crying on his dog, and then they all head up to the house. Ma and Pa are both standing on the porch; presumably they heard Krypto barking. They both look a little bit startled and a little bit confused and a lot more pained at the sight of him, and Clark swallows painfully and stops just before the porch steps. 
He looks at them, and he loves them so desperately. Everything they ever did for him, and everything they've ever been to him, and . . . 
"I'm sorry," he says. "I just . . . there was . . ."
God, the way this hurts. 
"It was mind control," he says. "The past fourteen months or so. I was . . . I wasn't. Wasn't here. Or . . . anywhere." 
"Oh," Ma says, and her eyes are instantly wet with tears. Pa blinks very quickly, his hand curling against the porch railing. 
"I'm so, so sorry," Clark repeats tightly, his own hands in useless fists. "But I'm–back now. I'm home." 
"Oh, Clark," Ma chokes, and then they both throw themselves at him. Clark's been hugged by people with strength far past superhuman, but it's never felt . . . 
No. It's never once felt the same way as when his parents do it. 
They cling to him. He clings back. Krypto barks again and swoops around the knot of them, wagging his tail hard enough to nearly knock Lois over with the force of wind it stirs up. Definitely some of the porch furniture gets displaced. 
Clark feels so much. 
They sit together on the porch, Krypto sprawled contentedly across Clark's lap and Lois on the steps beside him. Clark gives Ma and Pa what explanation he can–tells them everything he knows about Keystone and the electrocution and the watchtower and the surgery and waking up. They watch him just as intently as Lois does the entire time. 
He doesn't . . . he doesn't mention his suspicions about what might've happened to Kon. Not . . . not yet. 
He doesn't know how to. Not to Ma and Pa. Not after he brought the kid here and left him on their doorstep with no real direction and . . . 
Just–he'll tell them. He'll tell them soon. 
Just . . . not yet. 
It's not a very long talk, in the end. Ma and Pa take in everything he says and just take it all in stride, just like they always have. Baby in a spaceship? Kid with superpowers? Son who thinks he can save the whole damn world? 
Of course they take it in stride. 
Clark loves them too much to even define. Too much to even wrap his own head around. They're the best people he knows. The best people he's ever known. 
They don't even think there's anything for him to be sorry for. 
It's . . . painful, a little, when Clark realizes that. 
Or a lot. 
So, so damn painful. 
Clark hears the definitely-not-a-Batmobile coming, far down the road. Three heartbeats inside it. Dick, Damian, and . . . 
Jon. 
Obviously. 
Clark strokes Krypto's ears one last time, then gets up. No one asks him why, but he supposes the look on his face must be answer enough right now. 
He steps off the porch and goes to wait by the driveway. 
It's not that long a wait, but it feels like the better part of eternity.
220 notes · View notes
leedee013 · 2 months
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Something that weirdly pisses me off but like
Andrew Minyard shouldn't be an undercover book nerd or something. This fandom is so obsessed with forcing Andrew into a specific vision of him that they WANT to see that they miss out on a lot of potential regarding the content that's actually given to us.
Andrew Minyard has an eidetic memory and has most likely watched way too many movies or TV over the course of his life.
Anyone who claims that he's too poetic/fanciful with words to not be into literature is simply ignoring the fact that there are stunning movie/film scripts out there that are worthy of being held on an equal pedestal as literature. And I'm saying this AS AN ENGLISH MAJOR. I literally majored in reading books. But shoving bookish Andrew into fanon is something I simply will never stand behind.
I have an entire slew of headcanons about why Andrew actually does hate the act of reading if anyone ever wants to hear them too
228 notes · View notes
cherriemi · 2 months
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Trivia Night
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pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
in: reid has always noticed every tiny detail about you, the slight change in your hair or attitude. so when you throw a birthday party and include a trivia game for your unit to learn more about you, spencer gets every question right.
tw: improper capitalization, fluff, non-consensual kiss (let me know if there is anything else!)
a/n: this is my FIRST ff writing in years, so yes it’s bad and yes i’m rusty. please be nice to me :,(
wc: 2.3k
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you walked into the office… and he could instantly tell something was off. it didn’t take long until he remembered that your hair was now shorter. you had gotten a haircut and he would be first to comment.
“did you get a haircut y/n?” he asked as you placed your bag on your desk. you nodded, “is it that short??” messing with your hair and seeing if the ends are shorter than you had remembered. “no, i like it.” a smile formed on his face. “thank you.” you looked away, flustered. 
he always noticed changes first. they were compliments, questions of concern. it never weirded you out as he admitted to having an eidetic memory. it just frustrated you that he always knew what was different. 
“i haven’t seen you in red… it compliments your undertones a lot.” 
“your makeup looks different, did you put on eyeliner? i quite like it.” 
“what happened to your finger? be careful next time okay?” 
“let’s get started for our case review.” hotchner poked his head out from the conference room. you grabbed what you needed and head up the steps with reid just behind you.
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it was your birthday! you had invited your co-workers as they were the only people you really knew. joining the team only half a year ago, you moved away from your dream location but moved into a better job. 
you anxiously waited for someone to show up. your apartment was decorated, food cooked and the vinyl record playing smooth jazz. one of your favorite records, it was a compilation of a few popular artists and songs. you had found it selling for $2.99 at an estate sale back from your old job. 
you heard a couple voices from outside the door and then a knock. you rushed to the door, checking the peephole. it was hotchner and prentiss. 
the door door swung open, “happy birthday!!” emily prentiss cheerily pulled you in for a hug. hotchner smiled, repeating back what emily said with a back pat. “gifts can go over there.” your hand gestured towards the kitchen island. 
soon enough derek morgan and penelope garcia showed up, then jennifer and rossi. the party already seemed to be starting but you knew someone was missing. spencer reid appeared, exactly 25 minutes later than you had told the group chat. 
“come on reid!” derek and jennifer teased the boy. he was red on the face, a card in one hand and the other holding onto the strap of his messenger bag. he was dressed as he usually was: dress shoes, trousers, and a button up with a vest over. “sorry, i had to take the subway.” he responded. 
you grabbed the card from his hands, “it’s okay reid, go ahead and help yourself.” you set the card on the island as he walked over towards the pots and pans. he helped himself to some chicken and pasta. 
after the eating and cake cutting, it was gift giving time. you opened all the gifts in the kitchen while everyone watched. most of your co-workers gifted you a card with money but penelope had gifted wrapped a gift for you. you torn it open and found a bow ribbon set. you smiled and hugged her. 
you called everyone to the living room. emily, jennifer, penelope and derek had crushed themselves on the loveseat while rossi claimed the single seater you had. you grabbed your two only other chairs and placed them next to where rossi was. hotchner and reid sat in the new present chairs. 
you grabbed your phone which was connected to the tv and opened a slideshow, “y/n’s trivia night.” read rossi.
penelope sat up, “oh i am so good at these!” 
you reached behind the tv and checked for the gift card. “i thought that since i was the newest addition to the team… i would have a trivia game so you could learn more about me!” you pulled out a $50 visa gift card, “i prepared a prize for the 1st place winner… a $50 visa gift card!” everyone cooed at the possibility for a prize. “free money? now i’m in!” rossi joked. 
the first round was a multiple choice section, and each correct answer was worth 1 point. you explained the rules to your co-workers. the first question appeared on the slide. what is y/n’s favorite color? 
C. B. A. A. D. E. B. “the correct answer is B, one point to penelope and reid!” penelope nudged derek as he groaned. you assumed they had argued about your favorite color. 
another question, when is y/n’s birthday?
A. A. A. A. B. D. C. “the correct answer is… C! point to reid!” everyone groaned, especially those at the loveseat. they all answered your trick question, which had the incorrect year. 
you finished out the round 1 questions until everyone noticed a pattern. reid had gotten every single question correct. penelope would be a close second if 6 and 4 were neighbors. then emily and jennifer were tied, hotchner at 5th, rossi at 6th and derek dead last. penelope teased derek after the rankings were called out. 
you introduced round two, a free response round where each question was worth two. you admitted this round had more leeway as you could get 1 point for getting part of the answer but it had to be specific enough to warrant the 2 points. 
this round went by slower. without the help of given answers they had to use their brain power to create an answer. the first question was rough for many. hotchner got the single point for guessing your favorite childhood tv show but reid ultimately got the 2 points for getting the entire title. 
round two was so horrible, you ended up having to provide one hint per person to get points. you would have regretted making it a free response section if reid hadn’t gotten all the questions right again. 
you read the rankings, reid, penelope, hotchner, jennifer, emily, rossi and derek. 
you announced the third and final round. “it’s a single question.” everyone relaxed. “this question is worth double all your points.” everyone sat up. everyone but derek, rossi and emily had a chance to overcome reid, but it all came down to if reid missed the question. 
you read the question. gave them a few minutes as you served more champagne. after the minutes were up you counted down from 3 and had everyone revealed their answers. to everyone’s surprise reid had gotten the answer correct. almost exact to how you worded it on the tv. 
you read the final results. “last place is tied with derek and rossi at 5 points… emily with 8, hotchner with 10, jennifer with 11, penelope with 14 and reid with… 36.” 
derek stood up, “cheaters don’t win!” reid was red at the attention. you pulled the visa gift card and handed it to reid with a smile. penelope clapped for reid and joined jennifer, hotchner and rossi. derek was pouting. “excuse derek, he’s being a jerk.” peneople elbowed derek. 
the party went on for another hour until derek and peneople noted the time. “we have to go y/n, sorryyy.” peneople apologized. you bid them farewell. soon enough emily and jennifer wanted to leave as well. with emily and jennifer leaving, rossi and hotchner left after wishing you happy birthday for the third time. 
you were wrapping the food when reid entered after his bathroom break. “did everyone leave?” he asked. 
“yup, you can leave too… it won’t bug me.” you reassured reid in case he was waiting to leave. 
he approached you in the kitchen. “do you need help?” you looked at him, “if you could wrap the left over pasta, i would appreciate that.” 
he grabbed a sheet a tinfoil and sealed the ends. “could i actually take some of the pasta home?” he asked. you nodded, “of course! take however much you’d like.” you handed him a container. 
he spooned the pasta into the container. “you’re a wonderful cook y/n.” another compliment. 
“thank you,” escaped a smile while you felt your cheeks get warm. you pushed your lower back against the island. reid was taking more pasta. “are you a cheater?” you asked. 
he shut the container before turning around. “i’ve never dated so-“ 
“no i mean the game.” you cut through. he turned red. “how would i cheat?” it was a question of interest. he didn’t know the answer which was out of the norm for him. “i’m just surprised you got a perfect 100 on my trivia game.” 
reid’s mouth turned upwards, “eidetic memory y/n.” the eye contact was too much. “you say that, but can’t tell hotchner when his birthday is.” you rebutted. it was a question that hotchner blurted out during the game. emily prentiss, rossi and even derek knew his birthday but spencer had failed to come up with the correct answer. 
reid was chewing the inside of his mouth. “hotchner is old and uninteresting.” he jabbed at his boss. “and i am?” he nodded. “new people are always more interesting.” 
you had looked away. reid’s eye contact was too much for you. it was odd, he almost never could hold eye contact with anyone on the team but you? come to think of it, this was the first time since being transferred to the BAU that you and reid were alone. whenever the team split, reid was somehow in your group by chance but when it was one on one, you were paired with jennifer or hotchner.
in the beginning hotchner just wanted to get to see your working style and see how you handled people. after the first months, you had built a relationship with jennifer and she always pulled you away. she loved to hear what you thought about the other members, but you never told her the truth about reid. as a new member, it would leave a sour taste in their mouths if you immediately had issues with one member.
it wasn’t an issue though, it was more of an observation. 
he knew when you were born, he knew where you had transferred from, he knew your favorite genre of music and books, and now he knew where you lived. “is everything okay y/n?” reid cut through the silence. 
you realized it had been a couple minutes of silence. you avoided his eye contact and were zoning out. “yes…” you replied. reid stepped closer. “are you sure?” here he was asking you questions. he can sense the change in you. “yes, reid.” you replied. 
reid paused. “i got you a gift,” he dug into his bag, “but i was worried you wouldn’t like it.” he pulled out a small box. one that looked like it would house a necklace. he moved closer to you and reached his arm out. 
you took the box and opened it. inside was a necklace. gold, heart shaped with a beautiful gem in the middle that shined with the kitchen lights. “oh, it’s so pretty reid.” you lifted the necklace out of the box, unclasped it and slipped it on. 
reid analyzed. you could hear his breathing. in and out. in and out. once the necklace was on, reid asked, “does it fit well?” you knew it took a lot of effort, “perfectly.” you mumbled in response. 
reid hadn’t stepped back. you two were closer than ever. his hand brushed against clothing and reached for your chin. he lifted your face to look him in the eye. your cheeks were warming up faster than ever.
you both stayed silent. his hand wrapped around, sitting politely on your cheek. then before you could react, he leaned forward, his lips touching yours. 
at first, you were surprised at the sudden gestures of reid. he was quite germaphobic, refusing to even shake hands. that was your first lesson in the fbi, reid didn’t like being touched. he took the largest step back when you went in for a hand shake and hotchner behind you, “he doesn’t like hand shakes, i should’ve told you that.”
you could not resist. his lips were soft, his hand warmed your cheek and his free arm found it’s way around your waist. your body spoke that he wasn’t being rejected, and he pulled you in closer. 
it felt like the kiss had lasted minutes when he finally pulled back. “sorry,” he apologized, stepping back.
before he could go any further, you grabbed his collar and pulled him into another kiss. now he was surprised but that didn’t last longer than a split second. he cupped your face and kissed you. you opened your mouth slightly and he slipped his tongue inside, feeling around you. he pulled back taking the messenger bag he had donned all night off. returning, he held onto your waist while you reached for the back of his neck. 
everything clicked for you. he remembered all the small and obscure details about you because he was interested in you. when you told reid your favorite color because he noticed the different tops you had of that one color, when you told reid that your birthday was the reason for your favorite season. everytime reid asked you if you had changed your hair or makeup, it was because he had remembered that you keep your hair down and your makeup minimal. 
you pulled back, “you remembered everything about me because you were interested didn’t you.” reid was blushed, you weren’t sure if it was due to the kissing or the comment or maybe he was just hot. “i’m guilty…” he nodded, avoiding eye contact.
you begged reid to tell you the when and why. he was so embarrassed. admitting that he had never had a crush, and he asked hotchner what it meant to have an anxious feeling around a woman. “hotchner laughed at me and said that i was too smart to not know what attraction was.” reid told you. it was safe to say, that reid did not leave your apartment that night– in fact… he stayed the night at your apartment quite often. 
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cupcakeslushie · 1 month
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Hi! Big fan of your work!
For your Empyrean Weeping AU, I was wondering if—despite everything that's been done to his memory—Leo remembers all the people he's killed for the Shredder?
Because if he does, there's this one scene in the show "Leverage" that really haunts me, where the muscle of the heist crew (a former hitman) is being interrogated:
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(The transcript doesn't quite do the scene justice, so you can watch it here)
I wonder whether Kappa/Leo might have the same philosophy regarding his body count, or if it would be something completely different?
Have a great day!
You know, I missed out on Leverage when it aired, but I’ve only ever heard good things, so I’m gonna say this does sound like a view Leo could have.
While Leo did have his mind and memories messed with, making it easier for the Shredder to manipulate him. He still made a conscious decision, at one point, to stop fighting, and start obeying everything that was asked of him. So Leo definitely views all of that blood on his hands alone. Even when he grows to a healthier place, he refuses to shift the blame onto the Shredder.
I also have a small head canon that Leo has an eidetic memory—which (aside from Gram-Gram Karai protecting him) is a huge part of the reason Kitsune had such a difficult time altering his memories, and eventually focused more on suppressing his emotions). It would not be a stretch for him, to have all these same specifics of each kill memorized and burned into his brain.
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lululandd · 11 months
Text
being captain john price’s significant other would include:
>:3
♡ quick maffs.
you know for a fact its faster to ask him than to get your phone out, unlock it, open the calculator app, and typing the numbers in. it’s a blessing, really.
♡ never missing any appointments.
he just… rmemebers. man has near eidetic memory and even when he’s away at work he would message you to remind you of an appointment. man does not forget.
♡ would i lie to you?
price watches this show religiously. borderline obsessive even. can he find their tell on first watch? can he guess if its true or false? if you're both watching he would tell you tidbits about how to spot lies and all that. he had only been caught off guard twice watching this show. once was the one with claudia winkleman and her pet turtle yoshi, the other was kevin bridges accidentally buying a horse.
♡ lots of emoji replies.
you could be asking him for a quickie and he would answer with a “🤔🕦❓ 🕚❓”
♡ knowing features on your phone that even you dont know about.
“longpress the spacebar, love, it’s faster.”
“you can screenshot whole website pages, you don’t have to take individual shots.”
♡ zero tolerance for childish/bullshitty behaviour.
hes a funny man. silly. goofy. hilarious even. loves bantering around and mucking about. but the moment you try to act out to get in trouble or do something stupid for attention, he’s immediately captain john price. the change is drastic, immediate, and you don’t ever wanna see it again. mans has discipline ingrained into every fibre of his being and would not tolerate anything that could jeopradise both your image and your safety.
♡ having Nik and Gaz around on random holidays.
one day he just brought them over for christmas. Nik brought a simple two layered medovik (honey cake), and Gaz brought in potato dauphinoise. to this day you cannot replicate both dishes to perfection no matter how hard you try.
♡ random phone calls on random hours of the day no matter if he’s on duty or at home.
“hello?”
“allright?”
“yes john im fine.”
“good.”
and then hangs up.
you will never forget the one time he was so absorbed in research and paperwork that he called you. from the next room. you came into his study and he looked at you dumbfounded for a couple of seconds before you both burst into laughter.
♡ english breakfast.
in every brand imaginable. he likes certain brands in the morning, some brands he says are better drank during the rain or some shit like that. you tried pranking him by just giving him assam tea to see if he can tell the difference, and apparently he can distinguish immediately by smell so there goes that prank :’)
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wolveria · 2 months
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My Tech-genda
I haven't written meta in a long time, but I just have so much to say about Infiltration and Extraction:
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I'm sure there will be a ton of these, but my two cents as to how X is actually Tech (or Tex, as @nightfall-1409 calls him).
The POV of the show relied heavily on this new assassin, and that means he's a Special boy. Not like the assassin we saw in the trailer who died this episode arc. This is the boy we see on Pabu. That other assassin was a throwaway, maybe to get us off the scent.
And this is the big one for me, Tex fought like each of the OG Batch, including himself. Detonations, hacking, sniper rifle, vibroblade. His hobby of recording everything makes me think he either has eidetic memory, or he's an excellent copycat of what he's observed, especially something he would see on a daily basis.
Tex breaking out old tools. The pad on his arm almost like his old comm device/datapad. The grappling hook down the shaft. An evil little baby Marauder.
Falling and surviving (again). Maybe re-broke or simply re-injured that old broken femur. Conveniently, Tex hunches over a little so we can’t see how tall he is compared to other clones like Wolffe (they probably use the same model for all the Clone X assassins so this might be delusional on my part, but I think it would be a nice touch).
Also, the lighting this season is supposed to be a Big Deal, right.
This pulled back shot after Tex comes out of the hideout, he’s limping and injured, and there’s darkness all around him. He’s walking through this shaft of light, like a spotlight or a beacon, and I’m just like. Wow. Why such emotional shots for a random bad guy huh.
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That was my same issue with the big season 3 trailer. When we get a shot of Clone X on Pabu, the music swells in an emotional, dramatic arc. You wouldn't waste that on some random guy. At least, I wouldn't.
Last but not least, Tex's reaction to drowning Crosshair, and Crosshair gently grabbing at his shoulder before he falls unconscious. He pulls back a little and pants heavily. I genuinely can't tell if Tex is reacting to the touch, Crosshair fading away, or both.
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I also don't need to go into the imagery of Crosshair and Tech being mirrors of each other through the water, and that Tex is the Imperial agent that Crosshair failed to be. We've seen two methods of the Empire's control: reconditioning and the inhibitor chip. Seems the Empire is learning from its mistakes when it comes to the failing chips.
Note: There is much more I could go into, like despite the fact his voice is heavily modulated, Tex sounds exactly like his old self when he's grunting/panting. There's still so much to uncover, but I thought this was a nice start.
Sources: I write and have music/video editing experience, and these are things that make sense to me.
Addendum: Folks saying this is "bad writing" (an opinion, not a fact) are missing the point.
The question is not: Is it bad writing? The question is, can I masturbate to it? The answer, in this case, is yes.
Anyway that’s my Tech-genda thanks for listening.
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corrodedcoffins-blog · 5 months
Text
The Weeklong Date (pt.2)
main masterlist
spencer reid x famous!reader universe
word count: 1.6 k
warnings: suggestive, a lot of taylor swift references
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It was the fifth day of Y/N staying with Spencer, and he went back to work yesterday. And staying with Spencer for a few days they��ve built a sort of routine, that was sort of housewifey, Y/N would sit in bed and watch as Spencer got ready for the day; tucking in his shirt, that Y/N found so adorable. Spencer would always kiss Y/N goodbye, and kissing Spencer every morning was a luxury Y/N doesn’t think she will ever take for granted. And while Y/N waited for Spencer to come home for lunch, she was starting to write more and more songs for her next album, or sometimes she would read the books Spencer kept beside his bed. She had started reading ‘The Great Gatsby’ she had always wanted to but it was never the time. 
But her favourite time of the day was when Spencer would come home during his lunch break. Spencer hadn’t been telling Y/N, but everyday when he leaves for lunch, getting back the team was hounding him wondering where he left too. Of course he didn’t tell them, wanting to keep their relationship private for a little while longer. But he never did miss the knowing look Penelope sent his way. 
-
After Spencer’s long day of the team questioning where he’s been, and having to explain why he couldn’t come to the bar with them and that they couldn’t talk him into it like they usually would. Spencer just wanted to spend time with Y/N, take her on a date, hopefully something private enough that she wouldn’t get noticed. And Spencer had a idea he thought was perfect.
Walking through the front door he sees Y/N curled up into his couch, with one of his cardigans on, reading one of his books. Seeing Y/N so openly use his things, and clearly being so comfortable in his space, Spencer felt this overwhelming sense of possessiveness over her. Wanting nothing more than for her to be his. 
“Get dressed, we’re going out.” Spencer urged, grabbing onto Y/N’s forearms to lift her off the couch.
“Where are we going?”
“If I say it won’t be a surprise.”
“I didn’t know it was a surprise. I thought I told you I don’t like surprises, don’t you have an eidetic memory? You should remember that.”
“I do remember, I just don’t believe that you hate them as much as you say. I am also a profiler so I can tell these things.”
-
Surprisingly it was already dark out, but that was a good thing, because Spencer had decided to take Y/N on a late night drive, to go get ice cream. He still hadn’t told Y/N and to say the least she wasn’t too happy with his choice in doing that. 
“Where are we going, Spence?”
“Y’know children often ask the same question, either because they are hoping that the answer will change or because they didn’t understand the answer. Now applying that to this situation, I know you understand me, so I can only assume it’s that you're hoping for a new answer. So I’ll just tell you I’m not giving you another answer.”
“Where are we going to go?” Y/N asked in the darkness of the car, seemingly ignoring what Spencer had just said. Don’t get her wrong, Y/N loves when Spencer rambles, it showcases how smart he is, which is something she greatly loves about him. And she definitely listened to every word he said, but what she doesn’t like is when he uses his knowledge against her.
“You’re impossible.” Spencer said, quickly glancing at Y/N before looking back to the road and continuing, “Having a distraction technique can be a very healthy way of coping with a situation, so how's the construction in your building going?”
Y/N’s apartment building in New York, had a flood while she was away and have been doing construction the last week.
“It’s going good I guess, it’s going to take a little more time then they initially thought, because they found some pipe that was in the wrong place. So I rented a place on Cornelia Street.”
“That’s good.” The car had stopped at a red light causing them both to look towards each other. There was no way to explain it but the air between them had shifted, looking into eachothers eyes, Spencer’s glancing down to Y/N’s lips. He pauses for a moment, before gently pressing his lips to hers. After another moment Y/N pulls back to look back into Spencer’s light brown eyes, a beautiful chestnut, her lips falling open as if to say something, but no words coming out. But only for a moment, until she speaks.
“Spencer, I love you.”
This causes Spencer to hesitate, It was at this moment that Spencer realised, god he loved her. He loved her more than any other girl he’s ever been with, and they weren’t even official, they weren’t dating, on paper they weren’t anything. But they were so much more. 
After a few moments of pondering, thinking about how deeply in love he was with a girl he met a month ago, a car honks behind them the light had turned green and the cars in front of them long gone, causing Spencer to pull over to a side street before he responds. 
“I love you too.”
“Oh, thank god, I thought you were going to say you didn’t love me back. ‘Cause I know this is soon and it’s a bit of a delicate situation, I mean we aren’t even dating-”
For the first time in Spencer’s life it was him cutting of someones rambling. Grabbing Y/N’s hands to grab her attention.
“Hey, I love you. And I want to be with you. I don’t think it’s too soon, sure most couples fall in love four months into a relationship, but when has either of our lifestyles been like most?”
Spencer says, causing Y/N to laugh before she fully realises that they’ve said ‘I love you’ to each other. Then Spencer continues, “I love you. And I want you to be my girlfriend.”
“Yes!” Y/N says, jumping into Spencer's lap and passionately kissing him. 
He loved her. He is her boyfriend. And he loves her. His love was a secret Y/N was more than willing to keep.
“Know where are you taking me?”
“To go get ice cream.”
“Yay!”
-
That night the couple had read The Great Gatsby together, after making sweet, feverish, emotion filled love together, right where they lay now. Y/N laying between Spencer's legs, her back on his stomach, wearing only a clean pair of Spencer’s boxers, with Spencer wearing a pair of Y/N’s favourite pyjama pants on him. Spencer had the book in his hands, with said hands resting on Y/N’s boobs, in order for them both to see the book. No other reason. 
The two both loved this post orgasm bliss they had, spending time together, it was just simple. Reading together, Y/N asking any random question that pops into her head, knowing Spencer will have the answer, like now. 
“I saw today that shrimp can see more colours than humans. How is that possible?”
Before Spencer could answer, a knock interrupted the two, Y/N saying she’ll get it, then getting up to get the door, throwing one of Spencer’s sweater vest overtop of herself.
The popstar answered the door, coming face to face with one of her boyfriend’s co-workers, Derek Morgan. Maybe the worst member of the team to find out this way. Seeing Derek, Y/N became very aware of what clothes she was wearing, or lack thereof. 
“Derek Morgan.”
“Y/N.”
Pulling down the sweater vest of Spencer’s Y/N says, “Um.. You’re looking for Spencer I assume?”
“Yes, I am.” Derek says, not before looking Y/N up and down taking in her appearance. 
“Okay, yes. I will get him. For you.”
Derek mumbles a quick ‘thank you’ before Y/N softly shuts the door after their awkward conversation and runs into Spencer’s bedroom, where he is lying on his bed, still clad in a pair of pyjama pants and shirtless.
“To answer your question about shrimp, the mantis shrimp can see more colours due to it’s-”
As Spencer starts answering her previous question, Y/N places her hands on the sides of Spencer's neck to gently interrupt him. 
“My love, I normally would never cut off your rants, because I love you and I love your brain. But Derek is outside waiting for you.”
“What? Derek? Why is he here?” Spencer says, jumping out of his bed, putting on a shirt. Much to Y/N’s displeasure. 
“I don’t know, I didn’t ask. I just tried to get out of there fast because I’m only wearing this.”
“Derek saw you like this?”
“Hon, don’t be jealous.”
“Why were you answering the door dressed like that anyway?”
“I thought it was our dinner.” Y/N innocently said, genuinely thinking it was their dinner they had ordered. 
After getting dressed Spencer opens the door, him now coming face to face with Derek, Y/N staying out of view in the kitchen 
“Hey, pretty boy.”
“Hi. Um.. Wha-What are you doing here?”
“Other than clearly disturbing your romantic evening?.. Hotch called, we have a case and I was close by so I said I would pick you up. I thought you would be alone…”
“Oh, well I’ll get my go bag and we can leave. Come in.”
Spencer left the door open for Derek to enter the apartment, walking down the hall to his room. Derek walked inside, not even having a chance to talk to Y/N, as Spencer was speedily reentering the room.Spencer presses a quick, loving kiss to Y/N lips, they mumble their goodbyes, before Spencer ushers himself and Derek out the door. Derek and Y/N yelling out their own goodbyes before they’re gone.
“You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, pretty boy.”
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very-grownup · 29 days
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We started a new cdrama over Easter weekend and while @gyobaku appears to be watching something quality with a magic chicken, I'm still paying for a iQiyi subscription, so we're watching White Cat Legend: Oops All Doofuses.
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I cannot stress enough how much the short summary on mydramalist fails to make two important factors clear:
Cat.
Idiots.
So far everything else comes well after Cat and Idiots.
I said just pick something based on vibes and the vibes were informed entirely by this image:
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Accurate, but it's missing an important element.
Cat.
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Simple country boy Chen Shi (Zhou Qi) comes to the big city in search of his brother (reason currently to be determined) and in his innocent helpfulness finds himself both responsible for the arrest of human traffickers and being arrested with a cranky, drugged cat. Chen Shi Does Not Understand and passes out when the cat bites him. He wakes up out of prison and in the company of Li Bing (Ding Yu Xi), the son of the assassinated minister of justice who disappeared three years ago (THREE YEARS AGO).
But now he's back and here to check on the pursuit of justice and investigate the events surrounding his father's death and also he's now a cat.
Why is Cat? is also one of the mysteries he has to solve. He was apparently dying of backstory tuberculosis before Cat Happened, so Cat really seems to be all upsides at this point in the series. He doesn't seem to have to Be Cat at certain times or under certain conditions, it's just a thing he can do at will. He can be an attractive young man or a beautifully silky white CGI cat ...
... or a man with an hilariously badly incorporated grumpy CGI cat head. Is it "bobcat in Story of Kunning Palace" bad? Who can say. The nuances of "bad" can be so subjective.
But it's not just about Li Bing investigating the mysteries of his personal tragedy and Cat, it's also about becoming the boss of the four biggest doofus incompetents in the ministry:
Cui Bei (Ding Jia Wen), pessimistic sadsack with an eidetic memory who brings disaster down upon himself and those around him
Wang Qi (Feng Man), the self-appointed leader of the doofuses whose overconfidence in his own skills is matched only by his laziness
Sun Bao (Zhang Yi Cong), the scarred muscle and army vet who is a devotee of fortune tellers and would very much not like to have to fight anything
Ali Baba (Kudusjan Anivar/Wa Er), the Foreign One (you can't say Foreign Idiot because they're all idiots)
Together they ... solve ... crime while Chen Shi just wants to have a pet cat and protect stray children.
It's very silly and charming and I know Ambiguously Foreign character named /Ali Baba/ is some kind of race /something/ but as an outsider in every way I can't even begin to say what. Anivar is Uyghur and I think he's the first non-Han actor we've encountered in the dramas we've watched. Just an interesting bit of something to note in watching a very silly show.
Cat.
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