i’m a lot cooler on the internet

20 he/they 🏳️‍⚧️ 🩷💜💙

[missmissingmisery]

hi! I’m Lin :)

my pronouns are he/they and im (probably) gender fluid or nonbinary.

my favorite color is light blue.

saying slay is probably my only personality trait.

i love stranger things, criminal minds, the sims 4, The 1975, BTS, and i love writing! dunno if i’ll ever post a fic on here but who knows 🫶🏻🫶🏻

i’m also spiritual, i love crystals and my lovely tarot cards <3

the bromance between ghost and soap in cod is my current hyper fixation 🗿

[cannibalindsm]

People on Twitter just pissing me off for understanding jack and shit about Dustin and how people experience loss and trauma.

a) PTSD can and does manifest as anger.

b) No, Dustin did not know Eddie for "just a week" Dustin had known Eddie since he started high school, which means they had known each other for just about a year, 8 months most likely.

c) Ages 13-15 are EXTREMELY important developmental years. That adolescent development got totally fucked by witnessing Eddie die in his arms.

AND D) His grieving process has been completely interrupted by everyone hating Eddie. He can't properly move on because he's stuck trying to move on from a person that no one is showing sympathy for, in turn, no one is showing sympathy to Dustin which means he's not being allowed to grieve properly. He is stuck in square one.

He's grieving, and he's traumatized. Maybe that's something incomprehensible to someone who hasn't experienced that grief, but it's comprehensible TO ME! Dustin Henderson I will always defend you.

[cuntnymeria]

[missmissingmisery]

hey hey hey party people! long time no see ☺️

(I’m aware it’s been a while.. randomly got this idea and had to post!)

————

cotton candy

stranger things steddie

Content warnings: slight angst, anal sex (male receiving from another male..duh), bottom steve, top/dom eddie, eddie is a very giving top, steve is insecure, tears, mentions of body scars

“I’m losing myself in you, in you, in you, in you, I know…”

————

Steve’s head perks at the sound of the trailer door opening, throwing his book down and walking out of eddie’s room to greet him.

“Ed.” he calls, smiling wide as he spots him by the couch. Eddie smiles back, taking down his hair from his low bun and running his hand through his sweaty bangs. Steve smiles more sympathetically.

“You look like you worked hard.” he says softly, greeting him with a kiss to his cheek despite it being dirty.

“Mhm.” he hums, sighing heavily as he looks into Steve’s eyes. Working overtime to pay bills was really taking it out of him.

“You need to stop working so hard.”

Eddie makes a face, huffing a laugh as he walks five steps into the kitchen and grabs himself a mug of water.

“What?” Steve says, following and standing right behind him.

“You know I can’t just drop the hours, Stevie.” he says softly as he turns to face him. He hums in agreement, acknowledging the statement. Steve takes a moment to examine his face, noticing the sweat on his brow still. He has soot on various spots, and a slight frown on his lips.

“You should shower, Eds.” he suggests, tugging the belt loop of his uniform towards the bathroom.

“I know.” he laughs, letting himself be pulled. Steve stepped back from him, watching him turn the water on.

“I’ll be reading.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Eddie replies, “I’ll be out in a few.”

Steve closes the door, sighing as he lies back down on Eddie’s mattress and picks up his book. His hand goes to his side, swallowing anxiously as his focus gets torn from the pages to his scar. He wishes he felt brave enough to shower with Eddie now, missing his touch and the times they shampooed each other’s hair.

He pulls his hand away, running it through his hair as he looks down at the letters on the page. They seem to blur together as he stares, his gaze unfocused. He doesn’t notice the shower turn off and Eddie stepping into the room.

He jumps as he flops next to him, his hair partly landing on his face. Steve splutters, brushing the damp pieces off.

“What the fuck?” He laughs softly, a noise of surprise falling from his lips as he gets yanked into Eddie’s arms. He inhales in the crook of his neck, rubbing Steve’s back.

“I missed you.” he mumbles, his hand going up to his hair.

“You always say that.” he mumbles shyly, pulling back to look at Eddie’s now clean face. His eyes look less dull, and there’s more color back to his lips. He’s rid himself of any dirt and soot, and Steve can tell he used the body wash and shampoo he loves the scent of.

“Because it’s always true. I can’t go a day without you, Harrington.” he wriggles his eyebrows playfully, peppering kisses to his neck and jaw.

Steve giggles as he shoves him off, not really meaning it because Eddie was back on him again; kissing him on his cheeks a little firmer.

“You’re a sap, Munson.” he mumbles with a dopey smile on his face. Eddie returns his smile, pressing one last kiss to his forehead.

“Can’t help it.” he murmurs his reply, his chocolate eyes meeting the other’s caramel ones. He lays next to him again, spooning him. Steve instinctively backs into Eddie’s body, molding them together. Only then does he feel the soft imprint of his dick through his baggy pants.

“You’re hard.” he points out the obvious. He can’t see it, but Eddie flushes out of embarrassment.

“It’s been forever…” he trails off, his nose burying in the nape of Steve’s neck. Steve nods. It had been forever, hasn’t it? And forgive him for keeping count, but it’d been three weeks exactly since the last time they did anything more than kissing.

And yes, call them young, stupid, and in love, but three weeks was a long time. Forever.

So Steve doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he pushes the swell of his ass right against Eddie’s bulge, rubbing slightly.

Eddie gasps sharply, a soft groan falling out of his mouth as his hips involuntarily buck into Steve.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“Nothin’.” Steve says, which was an obvious lie.

Eddie grips his hip, pulling him closer as he slips his hand to the hem of his shirt. Steve goes to grab his wrist and stops him. Eddie pauses, looking up at him. Steve just shakes his head.

“I wanna keep it on.” he says, his voice smaller than usual. Like he was scared to say it.

“Whatever you want, I hear you, but you usually are the one to take it off?”

Goddamn Eddie and his ability to be perceptive for once in his life.

“It’s nothing, it’s fine. I just want it on.” he explains, which wasn’t really an explanation. Eddie knows there’s more to this, he feels it in his bones.

“Look at me, Stevie.” he murmurs, cupping his cheek to get his attention. Steve listens.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” he says softly, but still probing.

Steve is silent for probably twenty seconds, his gaze anywhere but Eddie’s face. But Eddie doesn’t mind, his thumb gently stroking his cheek as he keeps his hand there; grounding and gentle.

“It’s the scars, okay? I know I’ve had them for a while now, but every now and then, I get all in my head again about them. I really hate them.” he confesses, his tone defensive and almost snappy, his voice quiet. Eddie knows he doesn’t mean it.

“You know I don’t care at all what you look like. Your scars aren’t your fault. You survived, and that’s a very good and beautiful thing. I’m happy you’re here in this bed with me. And I’m happy you’re telling me this, and that you’ve trusted me with them before. I could never judge you, ever, okay? I love you.”

Steve doesn’t know when he starts crying, but he does. They’re the kind of tears that ache in his throat when he swallows them; the kind that makes his cheeks sticky and blotchy as they run down.

“Stevie, honey.” he calls out, pulling him in his arms as he rubs his back again. Steve buries his face in his neck, softly crying as he clutches his t-shirt.

“Shh, I got you.” he gently shushes, his hand tangling at the base of his scalp and gently scratching. Steve calms down pretty much just as quickly as he started crying, pulling back and sighing shakily.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” he laughs wetly, wiping the last of his tears away.

“What did I say about apologizing over silly things, Harrington?” Eddie asks, his eyes scanning over Steve’s face like he was trying to savor every detail.

Steve takes on a mocking, playful voice, “That I’m not allowed to do that anymore because there’s no reason to.”

“Exactly!” He exclaims, brushing Steve’s bangs out of his face and cupping his cheeks. The other man laughs at his dramatic response before pulling him in for a gentle kiss. It’s so slow and sweet that Steve finds himself smiling in it, becoming more relaxed and confident as it goes on. Eddie copies him, humming softly into the kiss while fighting a smile. He finally breaks the kiss to look into Steve’s eyes again, stroking his cheeks. His gaze upon him makes his heart melt; Steve’s heart melts just the same.

Steve can’t take it anymore, and he pulls Eddie in eagerly, kissing him firmly. One of Eddie’s hands goes to Steve’s waist over his shirt, giving a gentle squeeze. Steve moves Eddie’s hand, nonverbally instructing him to take it off. Eddie pulls back to look at him for confirmation.

“Are you sure? You said you wanted it on, sweetheart. I was okay with that.” he says softly.

“I’m okay. I trust you.” Steve gives a small, but reassuring, and relaxed smile. It’s good confirmation for Eddie, who mirrors his smile and gently pulls off his shirt, quickly following with his own. The two meet to kiss again, hands roaming each other’s bodies with gentle caresses and curious finger tips; just like any other time before.

Eddie is so gentle with Steve it makes his heart clench again, and he expresses his feeling of desperation through another rough kiss. Their teeth are practically touching before he slacks his jaw, letting Eddie slip his tongue against his.

Steve lets out a barely audible moan as Eddie grips his waist, his other hand cupping his jaw as they make out. Eddie responds by pulling Steve closer by the back of his neck, gently rubbing his other hand over his side.

Eddie lets out a soft groan before breaking the kiss and panting. He mumbles, “you’re so fucking beautiful, you know that? Everything about you.”

Steve flushes again, deeper- if even possible. He breaks out into another shy smile as he whispers, “thank you.”

“Always. Don’t thank me for telling it like it is.”

“Pfft, whatever.” is all Steve can manage before Eddie laughs and kisses him again, but with small and quick pecks.

“Can I take these off?” He motions to Steve’s sweats, to which he nods with a verbal hum. Eddie tugs them off with his own following after, both visibly hard through their boxers.

Eddie isn’t even looking down at his body or scars once he sits back up. Instead, he’s back up near Steve’s face, cupping his cheeks again as he lays close beside him. He smiles softly at him, his grin spreading far enough to show his dimples. Steve grins back at him, kissing his cheek. Eddie only returns one, before kissing his jaw and neck.

Steve closes his eyes, his hands in Eddie’s dark curls as he grins wider. He basks in Eddie’s love.

He tugs when Eddie’s teeth graze his neck, sucking on his tan skin and lapping over it with tongue. Eddie responds with a soft groan before biting down a little more, earning another tug from Steve.

“C’mon, Ed. You know I don’t like it when you stall.” He practically whines, a pout on his puffy, red lips.

“Patience is a virtue, Stevie.” Is how he responds, which as much as Steve loves the other man, it kind of annoys him. He playfully nudges him, which earns a chuckle before Eddie obliges and continues.

“Needy. Always such a needy boy, hm?” He says in a lower tone, giving Steve a quick glance to make eye contact. He squirms subtly under his lips and touch. He feels almost like a bug under a microscope; embarrassed he’s acting like this. How does Eddie do this to him every time? He doesn’t know, but he nods.

“Always.” He repeats softly. Eddie goes lower and his fingers hold Steve’s hips, making eye contact again.

“Can I take these off now?” He asks again. Gentle, sweet, careful Eddie; always taking care of his gentle, sweet, cautious boyfriend and always asking so nicely. He has such a specific tone that makes Steve’s heart clench and he squirms- again- in desperation. He nods before feeling brave enough to answer verbally.

“Yes, please.”

“Good manners.” He praises. It sounds like more of a playful quip, like he finally remembered to do something after putting it off forever, but Steve still smiles and lifts his hips, letting Eddie pull his underwear off.

Eddie hums in satisfaction, kneeling down on his knees to kiss Steve’s stomach and down his hip bones, trailing into his trimmed pubic hair. Steve bucks his hips slightly by accident, his hard cock bumping against his boyfriend. Eddie takes him softly in his hand, giving small and experimental strokes. Steve’s breath gets harder, bucking again.

“Do you want me to suck you off for a bit first or do you want to move on?” He asks. Steve makes an audible noise at this question, weighing his options. Who is he to turn down a blowjob from his hot boyfriend? But he thinks harder, his eyebrows furrowing before realizing again that it had, indeed, been three weeks. He wants Eddie and wants him now.

“I wanna prep. I need to feel you.” And Eddie is already grabbing the lube and a condom from his cluttered side table. He pops the cap open and squirts some onto his fingers.

“Can you lift your knees, baby?” He asks nicely. It’s in the same specific tone like earlier, and Steve immediately happily obeys.

Eddie squeezes more lube on his hole, pressing the tip of his finger against it. He gently probes, waiting for Steve to relax more.

“You doing okay?” He asks. Steve nods.

“You can put one in.” He responds. Eddie presses his first finger in, stopping at each knuckle before it’s snug inside; resting nicely as Steve’s walls clench around it. He does a pleased hum, getting Eddie to look up at him. He gives him a smile.

“Taking me so well already.” He murmurs, gently thrusting his first finger. Steve’s breath picks up and he shifts his hips.

“Add another?”

“Yes.”

Eddie adds his second finger, gently moving them in and out. Steve moans softly, spreading his legs farther. He watches Eddie with hooded eyes while he focuses on him. He curls his fingers slightly, pressing against his prostate. Steve cries out and curses, his eyes squeezing shut.

“Ed, fuck, oh my god.” He whimpers out, opening his eyes to look at him. Eddie continues to thrust his fingers gently against the bundle of nerves, kissing his inner thighs.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He questions with an almost patronizing tone, a smile evident in his voice. Steve nods eagerly. Eddie responds with a third finger, going slower as he presses back inside and pushes them against his prostate again.

“Nngh… Eddie, please. Ed.” Steve whines. He doesn’t know what he’s asking for entirely. Maybe just Eddie. He wants him pressed fully inside him so bad Steve swears he feels it in his very marrow.

“Tell me what you want, Steve.” He coaxes. Steve’s mouth hangs open for a second, gathering his words.

“You, Eds. I want your cock. Please, I can take it.” He begs, and Eddie hates to leave him unanswered, untouched— needy. He gently pulls his fingers out and wipes them off before pulling off his underwear. He lets out a small sigh of relief, putting on the condom before grabbing the lube and squeezing a large amount on himself. He puts more on Steve’s hole again then strokes himself to spread the lube. He chews on his bottom lip as he tries not to thrust into his hand, finally lining himself up. Steve grabs his hand, intertwining their fingers.

“Hi there.” Eddie says. Steve huffs a laugh, pecking his lips.

“Hi.” He whispers back. Eddie gazes into his eyes for a few seconds. Steve looks back with the same loving expression.

“Can I push in?”

Steve nods, squeezing Eddie’s hand. He squeezes back as he presses the tip inside, then a little farther before pausing. He kisses Steve as he pulls out slightly then pushes in a little more, the other man moaning softly into his mouth. Eddie swallows them greedily, pulling out and thrusting back in until he’s fully inside. Only then does he pull back from their kissing.

“Are you okay?” He checks in, one hand stroking his hair as his other hand holds tightly onto his.

“Yeah, yes. Feels a little weird but I’m okay.” He replies. He takes a few deep breaths while Eddie still touches his hair.

“You’re doing so good. My beautiful boy.” Eddie tells him, kissing his forehead. Steve sighs softly, content.

“Thanks.”

“Stating the obvious. Again.” Eddie replies in another playful tone, a half smile on his full lips. Steve hums and sighs, almost blissfully. He relaxes more. He feels high and they hadn’t even smoked. The world is turning slowly even as he focuses on one spot behind his eyelids.

“You alright?” Eddie questions again. Sweet, sweet Eddie. Even he needed reassurance that his boyfriend was doing well sometimes. Steve smiles. It’s a small and kind one and it warms the other’s heart like always.

“I’m doing good.” He answers surely.

“You are. You’re doing so good, baby. Taking me so well. I wish you could see how pretty you look right now, Stevie.”

Steve moans at his praise, his head falling back farther into the pillow. He breathes, shaky but deep. Steady, like Eddie’s hand holding on his.

“Thank you.” He whispers. He can’t bring himself to talk louder. Eddie matches his tone.

“You’re so welcome, sweet boy,” he kisses his cheek, scratching his scalp, “you really are doing amazing. So beautiful.”

Steve grins, practically basking in his words for a few moments before saying, “I’m ready for you to move.”

“You sure?” He double checks. Steve nods.

Eddie pulls out painfully slow, before gently pressing back inside. He wants Steve to get more used to the feeling of him inside.

“Is that good? I just don’t want you to get hurt.” He says, his eyebrows pinching together in worry. Steve nods in understanding. It was a bit of a stretch. Eddie wasn’t lacking in length nor girth, and it had been a while since they’d done this.

“Just keep going slow. I’m okay.” He tells the other man. Eddie nods, feeling better. He takes another breath and begins to move again, the same way as last time. Slow, gentle, and careful.

Not to mention loving. Steve can feel his cautiousness; his worry. Eddie was always so considerate, always thinking of Steve first.

“I’m not gonna break.” He mumbles, joking but there’s a hint of seriousness. Eddie huffs slightly, a small laugh.

“I know that. You didn’t let me prep you enough. This is your problem now.” He replies sassily, making eye contact to really get his point across. Steve giggles quietly.

“Sorry, sorry.” He reaches up with his free hand, tucking his curly hair behind his ear, then reaching down to his neck. He pulls him down by the back of it to kiss him again. Eddie hums in response, kissing back deeper.

Eddie doesn’t increase his pace until he knows for sure Steve is more relaxed and able to take more. He pulls back from the kiss to catch his breath, thrusting harder into him with the same slow rhythm.

Steve’s mouth opens and Eddie fails to catch and swallow his soft, breathy whimpers. He’s painfully hard between them; his pulse felt in his red and leaking tip.

“Faster. God, Ed, if you don’t fucking move.” He curses at him. He’s so desperate he feels like a gust of air could make him tip over.

“I’m going to, baby.” He chuckles at his tone, obliging and moving faster. Steve chews on his lip, pleasure evident on his face. It helps Eddie grow more confident. He finds himself not as worried.

“Is this good? More.. or?”

“‘S good for now, yeah.” He answers and nods, panting slightly. A sheen of sweat is caught in the light of the lamp. His skin is soft, covered with freckles and temporarily stained pink from exertion. Eddie watches him in awe once his eyes are closed again.

He thinks he’s never seen something so beautiful.

“That’s it, sweetheart. My sweet boy. Doing so, so well, Stevie. Are you close?” He asks like he can’t already tell. Steve nods with another whimper anyway, opening his eyes to look back at him.

They’re glossy like he’s about to cry. Eddie knows it’s from emotion and pleasure. Only now does he let go of his hand to cup the other’s full cheeks. Steve grabs onto his arms to anchor himself.

“Oh, baby… it’s okay. Feels so good, I know. Let it all out, yeah?” He leans down, temporarily slowing his pace to pepper kisses on his cheeks and nose. Steve doesn’t respond verbally, but he listens and nods. He closes his eyes and silently lets a few fall. A shaky breath is taken before blowing out a long exhale.

“That’s it. I got you. You’re safe with me, Steve, always.” He whispers. Steve nods again. He’s never felt so good and safe in his life.

“I love you.” He declares. Despite his tears, his voice doesn’t waver when he says this, instead thick with emotion. Eddie smiles wide.

“I love you more.” This makes Steve smile wide too, and he pulls him in for a small kiss. Eddie takes this as a moment to pick up his pace again. Steve moans, voice cracking slightly as he clenches involuntarily around the other. He was brushing against his prostate with every thrust, adding another overwhelming sensation. Eddie groans, their breaths and sounds falling close in sync with each other’s.

Steve can feel the knot in his lower stomach tightening more with each passing second, his moans getting more high pitched. Eddie reaches down to stroke him, a looser grip but faster pace, like he knew he liked.

“I’m gonna cum, Ed. I’m gonna cum— I- oh fuck.” He stammers out a warning that Eddie already mentally guessed was approaching, and it’s not even three seconds before he lets out another string of high pitched moans; his eyes rolling back in pleasure. Milky white ropes of cum paint his and Eddie’s stomachs as he clenches spastically around him, earning another few moans from him while they finish together.

Eddie maneuvers them so they’re both lying on their side, basking in the afterglow of their orgasms. Eddie pulls him into his arms, panting and stroking the back of his sweaty hair.

“You did so good. You’re always my good boy.” He murmurs. Steve buries himself in Eddie’s neck and hair, sighing softly.

“Thank you… you always feel so good.” He replies. Eddie kisses the top of his head.

The two stay like that for a few minutes, silent and processing together. Steve finally pulls back again to lay on his side of the bed, still halfway in the other’s arms. Eddie rolls over to grab his pack of cigarettes, taking one out and lighting one. He takes a puff, blowing away from Steve. It doesn’t stop him from plucking it from between his fingers to take his own hit. Eddie watches in feigned, playful annoyance.

“Wow. My own boyfriend. So rude.” He earns a laugh from Steve who gives back the cigarette.

“Sorry not sorry.” He replies. Eddie chuckles softly, shaking his head. He doesn’t respond because he doesn’t need to. Steve moves to lay on his chest. Eddie wraps an arm around his body. He doesn’t realize it at first, but he brushes against one of Steve’s scars. It’s the first time in a while he didn’t tense.

“Oh, sorry.” He immediately feels bad, apologizing for touching it. The last thing he wants to do is make Steve uncomfortable. But instead of being anxious, he sees that the other male shakes his head in a casual dismissal. He gives a small smile.

“I think I’m getting better with it. I mean, I trust you.”

Eddie’s chest blooms with emotion once he says this. He kisses his forehead, unable to stop himself from smiling in the kiss.

“I’m so glad. I love you. Always will.”

“I love you too.” Steve says and kisses his temple. He sighs and sits up with a stretch. He lets out a noise of distaste, his skin sticky from earlier.

“I think I need to go shower.” He announces, earning a nod from Eddie.

“Just don’t die, I suppose.” He shrugs, earning a small laugh from Steve. He gathers clean clothes and a wash cloth. He stops at the door suddenly, an idea popping in his head.

“Hey…”

“Yeah?” Eddie tilts his head curiously.

“Do you wanna come with me…? I know you showered before, but we both got.. yknow.”

Eddie immediately stands with an excited nod, quickly gathering his clothes.

“Yes. I’ve been waiting for you to ask again.”

————

woohoo!! Hope everyone enjoyed!

[lilliejareau]

spencer: did it hurt? when i told you to google it and i was right?

[spinalfluiddarling]

if I ever pass away do NOT unfollow me. I will be back

[flaminghotjareau]

emily prentiss:

[daily-spooky]

[catchymemes]

[anhedoniawrites]

all those dreams where you’re my wife

gif by @reidgif

inside your mind - the 1975

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

summary: coming down from the highs of sex, Spencer and Reader talk about his brain and its thoughts.

genre: fluff & angst

word count: 2.1K

warnings: no use of y/n, proofread, this is an old piece of writing.

masterlist!

Panting softly, your breath mingled with his, your chest rising and falling in tandem with Spencer’s. Your body felt weightless, the afterglow of your shared passion wrapping around you like a warm blanket. Sweat clung to your skin, and the soft hum of his heartbeat echoed in your ear where your head rested against his shoulder. The intimacy of the moment felt sacred, a shared silence that spoke volumes without words.

Spencer was unusually quiet. Not that his silence was uncommon—he often retreated into his mind after moments like this, his thoughts working in overdrive as if the endorphins had unlocked new pathways in his brilliant brain. He’d once explained to you that post-coital clarity often helped him connect dots he’d never considered before. You’d always found it endearing, a quirk that made him uniquely Spencer.

But tonight, something was different. His quiet wasn’t contemplative—it felt heavier, like the weight of his thoughts pressed down on both of you. You couldn’t help but notice the way his fingers hesitated as they traced lazy circles on your back, the way his chest rose with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

“What’s wrong, handsome?” you murmured softly, lifting your head just enough to meet his gaze. His chin, which had been resting lightly against the crown of your head, shifted as he tilted his face toward you. His eyes, usually warm and filled with an endless stream of curiosity, now held a flicker of something else—something guarded.

For a moment, he didn’t answer. He just looked at you, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as if he were weighing his words. You could see the gears turning in his mind, the way he struggled to reconcile his thoughts with the honesty that had always been the cornerstone of your relationship.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” he said finally, his voice soft but unconvincing.

It was a lie—a glaring, obvious lie. Spencer was many things: a genius, a profiler, a man who could recall entire books word for word. But a liar? Never. You knew him too well, knew the way his eyes darted away for just a fraction of a second when he was trying to mask the truth. He knew you knew, too, which made his attempt at deception almost endearing.

You propped yourself up on your elbow, your fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from his damp forehead. “Spence,” you said gently, your tone a mix of affection and concern. “You’re a lot of things, but a good liar isn’t one of them. Talk to me.”

His lips parted as if to protest, but the words caught in his throat. He sighed again, this one deeper, as though the act of holding everything inside was physically exhausting. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… complicated.”

“Complicated doesn’t scare me,” you replied, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.

He let out a breath, his gaze darting away for a moment before returning to yours. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, almost fragile. “It’s just… I don’t know how to explain it.”

You frowned, leaning closer. “Try me,” you said softly. “You don’t have to have it all figured out. Just tell me what you’re feeling.”

His hand moved softly, almost reverently, to the back of your head. His fingers threaded through your hair with a gentleness that sent shivers down your spine, pausing now and then as though he were mapping the curve of your skull. There was something purposeful in the way he touched you, something that felt more like exploration than comfort.

“I wish I could know you the way you know yourself,” he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful. His fingers continued their journey, tracing invisible patterns that only he could see. “I want to be able to have your brain all laid out in front of me, every thought, every memory, every piece of you.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, his voice soft but steady as he continued, almost to himself. “The back of your head is at the front of my mind.”

He fell silent for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as if trying to untangle the thoughts swirling in his mind. His hand didn’t stop moving, the gentle rhythm of his touch grounding both of you in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

After a long pause, he spoke again, his voice tinged with hesitation. “Sometimes, when you’re asleep, I’ll just… watch you breathe.” His eyes flickered toward you, searching your face as though bracing for judgment, but his hand never faltered.

“I’ll watch the way your breathing slows, the way it evens out. It’s like… proof. Proof that you’re real, that you’re here with me. And then I start to wonder…” His voice trailed off, but the weight of his thoughts lingered in the air.

His fingers stilled briefly before resuming their gentle path, tracing the base of your skull as though it held the answers he was searching for. “I wonder what you’re dreaming about,” he continued, his voice softer now, almost fragile. “I wonder if you dream of me, or of the things you love, or the things you want in life. And I can’t help but think about how much I want to know every part of you. What makes you happy, what makes you sad, what you think about when no one’s watching.”

His other hand came to rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. His gaze was intense, those wide, earnest eyes searching yours for understanding. There was no shame in his vulnerability, only a raw, unfiltered need to be known and to know you in return.

“I don’t want to miss anything,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “You’re the most important person in my life, and sometimes it terrifies me how much I feel for you. Like… like I’ll never be able to express it the way I want to.”

The silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. His hand lingered on your cheek, the other still cradling the back of your head as though he could hold your thoughts in his palm.

He let out a soft, shaky breath, his forehead lowering until it rested against yours. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, the words almost too quiet to hear.

For a moment, he stayed like that, his eyes closed, his breathing syncing with yours. His hands stayed gentle, as though he were afraid of breaking the moment. And then he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a desperation that spoke of a love too big for words.

In the quiet that followed, his touch said everything he couldn’t, and you let it.

In the gentle quiet of the room, Spencer’s voice broke through like a fragile thread, hesitant yet determined. “I mainly watch you sleep because I’m terrified of my mind,” he admitted, his tone a mix of vulnerability and unease. He hesitated, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of the blanket as if debating whether to pull the veil back on his inner torment.

His gaze dropped to the floor, his breath catching slightly as he continued. “When I sleep…” he started, the words trembling on the edge of his lips. “I dream that you’ve been taken. It’s always the same. I’m helpless, paralyzed—every step I take feels like wading through quicksand, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t reach you.”

His voice grew quieter, a raw edge creeping into it, but he forced himself to keep going. “By the time I finally get to you, it’s too late. You’re lying there…” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard, as though the very memory of the dream clawed at his throat. “You’re lying on the ground in a pool of your own blood. And the only thing I can see, the thing that haunts me even after I wake up, is the ring on your finger.” The room seemed to close in on you, the silence heavy and suffocating. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond to such a confession. You’d never talked about marriage—not explicitly, at least—but there had always been an unspoken understanding between you two. You both wanted it, you both felt it in your bones, but life had never given you the time to explore that possibility.

But hearing Spencer speak of the ring, of the symbol of everything you meant to him, in such a terrifying, haunting context—it shook you. The dream wasn’t just about losing you; it was about him failing you. About the one thing that represented his commitment, his love for you, now twisted into something horrific, something he couldn’t escape.

Your mind raced, trying to process the weight of his words, the depth of his fear. You could see it now—the desperation in his eyes, the vulnerability in the way he held himself. Spencer was afraid. Afraid of losing you, fearful of not being able to protect you.

In that moment, the love between you felt both fragile and immense. You reached out to him, your hand finding his, the warmth of your touch grounding him in the storm of his emotions. You didn’t need to say anything—he already knew how much you cared. But still, you squeezed his hand, hoping to convey everything that words couldn’t.

Spencer finally looked up, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “It’s supposed to be a symbol of everything good, everything I’ve ever wanted to give you. But in that moment, it feels like a mockery—a cruel reminder that I couldn’t protect you. That I failed you.”

The room fell silent, his words lingering in the air like a fragile echo. He looked at you then, his gaze pleading for understanding, for some assurance that the horrors of his subconscious didn’t define him.

“Spencer Reid, you could never fail me, not ever. Don’t ever think that,” you said softly, your voice steady but full of the weight of everything you felt. Your hands found their way to his face, cupping his cheeks gently, guiding his gaze to meet yours. You could see the self-doubt in his eyes, the fear that had taken root there, and it made your heart ache.

He opened his mouth to protest, but you pressed your forehead against his, a silent plea for him to hear you, to understand. “You’ve given me so much in this life, Spencer,” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper, but every word carried the depth of your emotions. “So much that I never thought I deserved, but you showed me that I do. You showed me that I’m worthy of love, of happiness. That I’m worthy of you.”

You could feel the weight of your words sink in as Spencer’s breath caught, his eyes flickering with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude. It wasn’t just the love you had for him—it was everything he had done for you, everything he had helped you realize about yourself.

You gently pulled one of your hands away from his face, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached for his hand, placing it over your chest, just above your heart. “This…” you said, your voice catching in your throat as you pressed his hand against the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. “This is because of you. Every beat, every breath—it’s because of the love you’ve given me. You make me feel alive in a way I never thought was possible.”

Spencer’s eyes softened, his gaze dropping to where his hand rested against your chest. The quiet intensity of the moment wrapped around both of you, and you could feel the weight of everything he was carrying—the fear, the guilt, the love—and you wanted to lift it off him, even if only for a moment.

You leaned in slowly, your lips brushing against his forehead in a soft, lingering kiss, a silent promise that you were there, that you always would be. Then, pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes, you whispered, “Spencer, you don’t ever need to worry about failing me. You’re everything I’ve ever needed. And I’ll never let you forget that.”

Spencer’s eyes fluttered closed, and without thinking, he leaned in to kiss you, his lips gentle against yours, a kiss that spoke of gratitude and love, a kiss that grounded you both in the present moment. When he pulled back, you couldn’t help but smile, brushing your thumb lightly over his cheek.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. And before you could respond, you kissed him again, this time deeper, letting the weight of everything you had just shared hang in the air between you like a promise, unspoken but undeniable.

thank you for reading!

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taglist! @pleasantwitchgarden

[nineatnight]

thinking about emily forgetting words and stammering at home when her professional front is down. listen, she knows seven languages i know babygirls head is a mess when she isn’t in work mode.

Having a conversation with her and she sort of trails off, “the thing with the wings… in the air.” sounding a little exasperated.

“bird?”

“the metal version.”

“a plane?”

“yes! a plane!” and then she just gets back into the flow of conversation.

i fear this would be the norm for her partner or roommate or friend or anybody who sees her outside of ‘agent’ mode. and they all just kinda flow with it. it’s not that she’s dumb, or uneducated, it’s the opposite!! she’s so knowledgeable in so many different cultures and languages that the abstract things tend to escape her!!

my source? trust me bro… just kidding!! i speak various languages and i forget words all the time so this is me projecting :3

[xxcosmicaura]

remember kids

Artist 🎨: @vhsdogs

[the-river-nyx]

Me at 14 and me at 22 are having a bonding moment

[armandgender]

writing is so fun

[armandgender]

writing is impossible why does anyone do this

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

you know a fic is good when it has this

[nineatnight]

random headcanon keeping me up:

emily hates liquid medicine. she hates the taste, the consistency, all of it. she’s like a toddler who needs to be held down into drinking it, and she won’t do it unless she feels like death is knocking at her door.

[dicephalicdoll]

me after spending 6 hours reading criminal minds fanfiction instead of sleeping:

[fishing-lesbian-princess]

“Okay here’s the list of chores I want to get done today” I tell myself before having sudden full body fatigue from seemingly nothing