she/her here for one reason and one reason only chronically offline tk blog
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Latest Posts by geethingy - Page 2
Now gracefully strung by your hand
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters: Derek/Spencer
Anonymous said: Prompt (fits in your existing ‘verse if you want): Spencer Reid on a low-effort case getting distracted by the others' hands while they work bc he’s thinking lee thoughts. Mayhaps Morgan or one of the others notices and does something about it 🥰
A/N: References this fic!
Words: 1.2k
Derek noticed more now. It was thrilling, in a way, to look back on past interactions and pinpoint exactly when Spencer could think of nothing but tickling, even for just a fleeting moment. And Derek knew he probably wasn’t misreading the moments, especially now that he knew exactly how Spencer was like when the thought suddenly gripped him. The lee mood, as he’d learned it was called (and which his usage of always made Spencer embarrassed in the best way). He probably didn’t associate handcuffs with it, being in the FBI and all, but Derek could remember one particular instance where he’d been joking around with him, way back when, and had asked to cuff him to see how well Spencer would survive if the need ever arose.
“I’ll be gentle,” he’d told him, and Spencer had blushed in a way Derek hadn’t yet understood.
“You thought I was gonna tickle you, weren’t you?” he asked him one day, having remembered it.
“No.” Spencer was bright red then too, but he seemed honest as he met his gaze. “I thought of it, but it- it wasn’t just that.”
“Oh?” Derek grinned. “Was it me holding you down over the table that distracted you?”
Spencer shifted in his seat, eyes now on the wall behind him. “You’re terrible, Derek Morgan.”
“Mm, you love it.”
The most innocent and captivating display of Spencer being caught up in this type of mood Derek noticed accidentally. Spencer seemed to be zoning out, staring at something for so long that Derek was certain he wasn’t paying attention to what he was watching, until he realized it was hands. And then he kept noticing it. Spencer’s gaze innocently on Hotch’s flexing hand pointing to a map. Spencer’s gaze following Emily’s fingers leafing through a case file.
He found him in the conference room one day, where Garcia was showing him something on the computer. Clicking, pointing, tapping, all the while Spencer was watching the blur of her wiggling fingers. Derek could imagine what he was thinking, caught up in it without meaning to, all wide eyed, all innocence.
“Were you watching her hands?” he asked with a laugh and Spencer jumped, face pinkening so quickly in that delicious way Derek adored.
“She has nice nails,” he said, and maybe Derek would leave it at that had he not understood what exactly that meant.
“Mm, they’re long. I bet it would tickle like crazy if she ran them over your belly.”
“Derek, oh my god, not here.”
“Why not?”
“You know why.”
Derek let out a laugh. “I do know why. I just like seeing you get flustered.”
Spencer huffed, but there was no coming back from that blush.
*
“Do you ever watch my hands?”
Spencer didn’t have to ask to know what he meant. “Sometimes. A lot of times.” He flushed and averted his eyes. “Most times.”
“Oh?”
“I can’t help it.”
“Well, you do know exactly what these hands can do.”
“Derek.” He said it softly, more out of habit than a plea for him to stop. They were alone. Spencer could indulge.
Derek too.
“Do you picture them running up your spine?” Derek demonstrated by stroking the air, index finger slightly extended, moving slowly over something invisible. “Or maybe-” He flipped his hand over and wiggled his fingers. “-gently stroking your chin? Tell me.” Spencer was bright red now, but he wasn’t looking away. “Do you ever tickle yourself and pretend it’s me?”
“Yes.” No hesitation. It pleased him. “Even when you’re around.”
Derek faltered. “But you could just ask me.”
“I know, I just-” Spencer shrugged, pulling at his sleeves. “Sometimes I feel silly asking. And sometimes I don’t really want the entirety of it anyway. Sometimes just the idea is enough.”
“I see.” Derek had to admit the image of Spencer lying in bed with Derek watching tv and slowly tracing his fingers over his own sensitive skin was kind of hot, to put it boldly. “If you ever want me to be quick and gentle, I can. Or if you want me to air tickle you.”
“Oh my god.”
“What?”
“Nothing, I just-” Spencer let out a laugh, something soft and slightly panicked. “I’m still not used to talking about it so casually.”
“I can make an event out of it, don’t worry. July 16th. Caught Spencer looking at Garcia’s hands.”
“Shut up.”
“July 18th. Got him to admit he tickles himself.” Derek laughed as Spencer shoved him, fingers automatically going for his ribs. “Oops, sorry, didn’t mean to steal your job.”
“You’re so annoying.”
“You love it when I’m annoying.”
Spencer huffed, but didn’t deny it. Derek reached out experimentally and stuck a finger into Spencer’s neck, earning a giggle, shoulder rising to stop him. “H-hey.”
“You really think I was gonna leave you alone? I’m in a ler mood.”
“Oh my god, please shut up-”
“Shh, let me tickle you. Please.”
Spencer was still giggling from the fingers on his neck. “F-fine.”
“Thank you so very kindly for your sacrifice.” He pulled his hand free, wiggling the fingers in front of Spencer’s face. “Watch them.”
“Derek.”
“Just for a moment, and imagine what they will do, okay? Because they love the attention.”
Spencer’s eyes widened. Derek knew he would probably kill him one day. He was fine with it.
*
Watching Spencer watch hands calmed Derek down, too. He noticed it on the jet one day, feeling anxious and exhausted after a draining case, and so he’d turned toward Spencer like he usually did and found that Spencer was already watching him. Or watching his hands, gaze flickering between them and Derek’s face and while he did a good job of not flushing Derek caught the telltale sign of him being embarrassed in the way his body shifted. He wondered if Spencer longed for him to wash the week’s hardships away with his fingertips on his ribs, or if he was simply so used to watching certain parts of people that it had become a habit.
Derek relaxed under the gaze either way, wiggling his fingers experimentally and being rewarded with a kick to his leg as Spencer looked away without a word. Hotch sent him a questioning look as Derek laughed, seemingly out of nowhere.
Most times he caught Spencer watching other hands, though. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel jealous about it, but he didn’t. He found it cute. And entertaining. Thanks to the case which had brought them together in the first place everyone knew that tickling was a topic for Spencer. A sensitive topic, maybe because he’d gotten captured by the tickle UnSub, or maybe because he’d known more about the topic than they’d expected him to. Derek hadn’t talked to anyone else about it, because frankly he respected Spencer too much, so he wasn’t sure if anyone had pieced it together. But no one really tickled him, other than Derek. Maybe they found they couldn’t after the case. Maybe they felt it was Derek’s job.
But Spencer kept watching, maybe not on purpose, maybe dreaming more than paying attention. But each time Derek caught him earned him a blush. And how could Derek not love that?
Your latest fic was absolutely adorable! I was coming here to leave a prompt but my brain is mush and I’ve got nothing. I just really enjoy talking and reading about ticklish Reid.
Also MGG seems like he would be super ticklish and it’s a shame that the one thing we have is a one second poke but a big reaction in season 2.
ohh thank you sm!! if a prompt comes to u at any time feel free to ask
i love matthew gray gubler, in every story i have heard of him he seems like the sweetest and most fun guy
him dropping the mug + that one zero context shemar moore instagram post is all the proof i need haha
know when to walk away. know when to run.
fandom: criminal minds
w/c: 1943
content: fluff very cartoony goofy fluff
summary: morgan bets reid he can't go a day without rambling. reid takes him up on it.
a/n: i got a little carried away with everything that wasn't the main course but i promise it is there towards the end. open to criticism ☝️, i am still new at this and looking to improve.
p.s the penelope rant was all me i am penelope.
~~~~~~~~
Derek was starting to feel guilty. To an outside observer, nothing seemed unusual. Reid was sitting across from him on the jet, reading some book in Russian. At least he thought it was Russian. When he asked Reid if it was, he made a face which indicated it was not actually Russian. Any other day he would've corrected Derek on the fact it was Ukrainian (which Derek had to find out after looking the book up on his phone - tedious.) Any other day Reid would passionately explain away a passage in the book that particularly interested him. But today he was completely silent.
It was really starting to get to Derek. And he could tell the kid knew he was getting to him. Spencer would check his watch every so often, glimpse at him with a smug ass look on his face, then go back to his book. It was infuriating.
-----
The unsub they had been dealing with was a bride-killer. He targeted women during their bachelorette parties days before the women were set to be married. The only reason for him to pick such high-profile, high-risk women is if it were a compulsion.
“Maybe he’d gotten cheated on during his own bride’s bachelorette party,” Rossi said.
“Wouldn't he have to stalk these women for weeks to know they were getting married?” JJ questioned.
“Not necessarily,” said Morgan. “Wearing a bride-to-be sash like the victims were would be like waving a red cape at a bull.”
“It’s a common misconception but actually, bulls are colorblind. So it doesn't really matter what color the matador waves - it’s the cape’s movement that elicits an aggressive charge response in the bull.”
“...”
Everyone stared at Reid in a silence that stretched for seemingly forever. He shrunk under their intense gaze.
“Um, Morgan’s metaphor still applies here, though.”
Derek laughed the way he always did right before he teased Reid.
“I bet he can’t go a day without saying some completely unrelated fun fact during the investigation. He just can’t help himself.”
“It wasn’t completely unrelated..” Reid mumbled shyly, before speaking to be heard. “I can. But where's the fun in that?”
“You wanna put money on that?”
"Ooh, careful Morgan. Gambling with a Vegas boy is bound to go wrong." Rossi joked.
“The stakes are too unclear. And there would be too many technicalities. We'd argue over what constitutes as irrelevant to the investigation, what counts as a fun fact..” he trailed off as he realized the stares and silence were back.
“Okay, pretty boy. New stakes. I bet you can’t go without talking for… at least twelve hours. About anything.”
“Can I make any noise?”
“Hmm. Nah.”
“How much money?”
“Reid, Morgan, focus up.” Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose indignantly. “We need Reid to talk until the investigation is over. Then you can wager on your own time.” Hotch brought everyone’s attention back to catching the killer. From over his copy of the case file, Reid mouthed to Morgan. You’re on.
-----
It started right after the unsub was processed. Immediately after. As in, while Morgan was putting the suspect in cuffs, he had turned to Reid and said, “50 bucks?”
“Sure,” he replied. “Starting when?” The local PD came to take the unsub away.
“Now?”
Reid smiled confidently in response.
“Great work, everybody.” Hotch walked up to the team huddled inside the killer’s home. “Let’s get out of here. I’m buying coffee. What does everyone want?”
Reid opened his mouth to say something before pursing his lips. This would be harder than he thought.
-----
On the jet ride home, Derek had been trying to goad Reid into saying something. He facetimed Penelope.
“Hey mama, I got a question for you. Here, let me put you on speaker.”
“Oh! I love questions. You know I know everything. What’s up?”
He looked at Reid smugly as he talked, even though the kid was fixated on his book. “Why exactly does ‘Doctor Who’ spend so much time in places that look exactly like Earth when he's got a whole universe to explore? There ain’t no way Earth is more interesting than the entire universe.”
Oh my. The look on Reid’s face was devastating. The only time Morgan would ever willingly discuss Doctor Who, he couldn’t join the conversation. Derek’s heart would’ve broken if he hadn’t found it hilarious.
“...okay. Sweetheart, first of all, he is not called ‘Doctor Who.’ He’s called ‘The Doctor.’ Okay?” Penelope sighed, agitated. Some relief washed over Reid’s face as if that was what he wanted to say.
“Doctor Who is the name of the show. His identity is a mystery and he just goes by The Doctor. So people and alienfolk all go ‘Huh? What do you mean? Doctor Who?’ and that’s why the show is called that. You wouldn't call Captain Kirk 'Star Trek: The Original Series.'" Reid was positively pouting.
"Second of all, I heard about the little challenge you placed unto our baby genius and I will have no part in his torture. Tata.” Penelope hung up the phone.
Derek frowned and put the phone in his pocket. “Damn… I really was curious. Do you mind answering my question?” he taunted Reid with a toothy grin. Reid scowled and returned to his book. A true miracle he had so much self control over his hand gestures.
-----
Two hours had passed slowly and silently. It wasn’t fun anymore. Morgan had seen Reid perk up at least three times to infodump about the books he’s read during the flight, before he caught himself. Each time he was stupidly dejected afterward. Morgan didn’t love it. He hated it. The kid had been shut up his entire life by his peers and bullies. And now by his friends. His heart was actually starting to ache seeing his friend’s gaze become more and more distant.
“Hey, kid. Let’s just call it off.”
Spencer met his eyes and raised a brow.
“I wanna hear about the story. Genuinely.”
Spencer looked down at his watch, then crossed his arms. Morgan scoffed.
“Seriously, you want the 50 dollars that bad? There’s still an hour left before we land.” He didn't want to see Reid be depressed for the entire remainder of the flight. And the longer it went, it seemed less likely he'd be up for talking even after the time limit. Morgan couldn't handle that.
“C’mon man, it’s unhealthy for a brain to store so much information without an outlet. You’ll explode.”
Spencer smiled and huffed out of his nose. His eyes went wide. He awkwardly looked over to the side at nothing.
“..Was that a noise?” Spencer frowned and shook his head. A figmental lightbulb went off over Derek’s head.
He walked over to sit side-by-side with Spencer, who eyed him cautiously. He sighed. Maybe it was inappropriate to play dirty, but Spencer wasn't exactly giving him an option.
“Listen, we can do this the easy way. Where you open your mouth right now and call me an asshole for ever suggesting this stupid bet in the first place. Or we can do this, uh…” he grinned impishly, wiggling the fingers of one of his hands. “..the hard way.”
Spencer’s jaw clenched at the implication. He braved a face of nonchalance and for a moment, Derek thought maybe he wasn’t even ticklish. Or maybe he didn’t think Derek would actually do it. They were in front of their boss after all, their unit chief of the Federal Bureau of Investigation Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not in grade school.
But then Derek saw the red of his ears slowly make its way down to his cheeks and decided he couldn’t help himself. Plus, the kid wasn’t talking.
"Okay, have it your way."
It was childish, Derek would be the first to admit it. But he’d kill two birds with one stone. End the bet, and get Reid to smile a bit.
He wiggled an index finger lightly at the side of Spencer’s neck, which immediately got trapped. Spencer reached up to pull the hand out, before his wrist was snatched and Derek clawed at his ribs.
To Derek’s surprise, Spencer stayed quiet. His physical reaction, however, made up for it. He jerked and contorted so hard his back ended up on the seat of his chair. One leg curled up to protect the attacked side, while the other sprawled over Derek.
He kept his lips and eyes shut so tight they quivered.
“You’re kidding.” Derek was indignant. This was the most stubborn he’d ever seen him. “You can’t keep this up for an hour.”
After spending some time there, he moved up into his underarm. Spencer broke out into an open mouth grin and another spasm. But still no noise.
Derek let go of his wrist - bicep burning from Spencer's struggle against him - to use both his hands to tickle. Something happened that completely bewildered him.
Spencer was laughing. He was trembling, his stomach was tense, and his throat bobbed as it always did when he laughed. But it was silent. How the hell was he doing that? Why was he just taking it? Is he really going to endure this torture for the rest of the flight?
If he could, oh man. There was no way in hell Derek would stop. This was a much better sight than the sad quiet Spencer from earlier. He just wished he could hear it.
Derek was broken out of his thoughts when he saw tears fall from Spencer’s eyes, which suddenly looked much more desperate. He was turning a concerning shade of red. The drawback of silent laughter finally registered in Derek’s brain.
“Woah Jesus, kid! Breathe!” Derek immediately stilled his hands, reaching instead to grab hold of Reid’s face. It was hot to the touch. He quickly wiped away Reid's tears, which felt a bit intimate, but he didn't want the team to see he had accidentally tickled their greatest asset into crying. He figured Reid wouldn't want them to see either.
Derek helped him sit upright. Spencer breathed hard, a smile gracing his face as he peacefully closed his eyes in relief and weariness. His lips shaped in a circle to steady his breathing.
Absolutely infuriating. He would have passed out before he lost. It was a battle of wills, and even when Derek held all the cards, he folded first.
He wondered why Spencer was going so far for something so dumb. If he was trying to prove something to himself, to his team, to all the bullies who shut him up, Morgan would never live down the guilt. He hoped it was as simple as Reid just being a competitive little shit.
He groaned. “Okay, fine! You win, Spencer. You proved your point. You know how to stay quiet. Hell, not even I could…" he cleared his throat. "..uh, the point is, you won. You can have the 50 bucks. Please just talk to me.”
Spencer was still panting, the smile on his face seemed permanent. “You're.. an asshole,” he breathed. “And a cheater.”
“Yeah, I know.” Derek laughed.
“I still won, though. Whew."
“Yeah, yeah..” Relief. He was a competitive little shit.
"Can't believe you couldn't take just three hours of me not talking! You must really love learning."
He scoffed. "Whatever." Alright. The kid was starting to get cocky.
“Hasn't anyone ever told you cheaters never prosper?"
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.” He pinched at his side and Spencer laughed. Audibly, this time. Garcia would call it a swoon-worthy sound. Maybe those were his words.
He pulled out his government issued wallet before his hand was stopped. “Oh. I don’t actually want your money.”
“A bet’s a bet, Reid. You earned it fair and square.”
“You wouldn’t take it if you had won.” Spencer smiled. “Just buy me a coffee when we land. I didn’t get any earlier.”
Derek shrugged. If he took any lesson away from this, it was that the doctor was stubborn. “Alright, fine by me.”
“And listen when I say the whole point of the Doctor’s archetype is to love Earth - specifically humanity - and for logistical reasons it’s just more convenient for the setting to be on Earth or on a planet that resembles Cardiff, Wales..” Here we go. Spencer rambled on, speaking quickly and more with his hands than anything. Derek rolled his eyes, but he sat back and listened.
😦😧🤯
THE VERY END OF CRIMINAL MINDS SEASON 9 EPISODE 18 THAT IS ALL
Three times Alex denied being ticklish
Fandom: Red White and Royal Blue
Characters: Alex/Henry
Anonymous said: Hi N! I loved your red white and royal blue fic! In that story you said, that Henry had to tickle Alex to pieces three times before he admitted to being ticklish. Would you be interested in writing about that as well?
Words: 800
1.
The revelation had happened on a day like any other, only Henry had marked it in his calendar and Alex had whined about it for days because of it. A Tuesday, semi-cloudy, event after event lining up throughout the day, and all Alex had wanted was to sneak in some fun between them if you catch his drift.
He’d wanted slow kisses and quick hands. Hushed voices and Henry tugging lightly at his hair while a coat hanger dug into Alex’s shoulder blade.
What he’d gotten instead was Henry digging his fingers into his sides again with a delighted laugh, because Alex’s stupid body had been too eager and too tired to pretend the gentle squeeze hadn’t tickled the first time, and so of course Henry needed to be an asshole about it and do it again.
“I didn’t know you were ticklish,” he said, indignant and offended and whatever other emotion he managed to lace his voice with as Alex was too busy trying to shove him off.
“I’m not,” he said, knowing it was stupid to deny it, especially when Henry was just about to discover that his ribs were even worse as he climbed his hands upward, but he said it anyway.
“Are you sure about that?” Henry’s voice had a teasing lilt to it which made Alex want to both blush and tear his clothes off.
“Y-yes!” He tried to twist out of his grip, bumping into a broom or something which fell against the door. “Henry, they’ll hear us- don’t!”
“I think they’ll understand when I tell them of the earth-shattering information I just discovered about the first son of the United States.”
“Henry!”
Henry stilled his fingers with a huff. “Fine. But your denial does not land with me.”
“Please shut up and just kiss me while you can, you idiot.”
2.
The second time was much more private, which meant that Henry had much more time to explore his discovery, much to Alex’s dismay. He pinned him on the bed, Alex thinking for a second that this was simply Henry being impatient, only to realize that his wandering hands were aiming to tickle rather than to touch.
“Hey, wait, don’t do tha-ah!”
“Why?” Henry paused just at Alex’s upper ribs. “You’re not ticklish, remember?”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Have fun having a whole nation after you.” Henry curled his fingers, grinning when Alex jumped. “What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing.”
“I see. So you won’t mind if I do that again then?”
Alex leaned his head back, begging the gods for strength. “Of course not.” “Oh, good, because now that I think about it, I have noticed you twitching a bit when I kiss your neck.”
Alex’s breath hitched. “Right.”
“So be a good boy and keep your head just as it is.”
Alex was not a good boy, but Henry was strong, Henry was stubborn, and Henry was much too good of a tickler for it to be fair.
It was a miracle no one came to rescue him, because Alex was certain his screams could be heard throughout the whole of the White House. He needed new guards for sure.
3.
The third time had Alex nervous, which Henry noticed and teased him about. “I wouldn’t be torturing you if you had just not kept this from me to begin with.”
“Sorry for not holding a press conference about being ticklish, your majesty.”
“So you admit it?”
“No.”
“Then I reckon I have no choice.”
Alex tried to make a run for it this time, leaping over the bed with Henry right at his heels, both laughing, both young and silly and in love, and when Henry managed to grab him and pull him down into a heap on the floor Alex wondered if this was how the rest of his life would be and found he didn’t mind it at all. Not even when Henry started tickling his knees.
…and one time he admitted it.
In the end, Henry didn’t have to coax out the confession.
It was late, both were breathing heavily, and Henry was running his fingertips over Alex’s stomach without any real intention of tickling him. Alex was half asleep and wasn’t feeling ticklish at all until he hit a particularly bad spot on his lower belly, which made his hand shoot out to try to stop him. “Tickles,” he mumbled and he heard Henry laugh, something hushed and lovely.
“Knew it,” he said, and Alex whined, unwilling to open his eyes to glare at him. “Is this your official confession?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, rolling his head away from him and sighing happily when lips found his temple. “Don’t be annoying about it.”
Henry huffed. “I would never.”
“Liar.”
“Not fun when someone denies the obvious, huh?”
“Shut up and go to sleep, your majesty.”
know when to walk away. know when to run.
fandom: criminal minds
w/c: 1943
content: fluff very cartoony goofy fluff
summary: morgan bets reid he can't go a day without rambling. reid takes him up on it.
a/n: i got a little carried away with everything that wasn't the main course but i promise it is there towards the end. open to criticism ☝️, i am still new at this and looking to improve.
p.s the penelope rant was all me i am penelope.
~~~~~~~~
Derek was starting to feel guilty. To an outside observer, nothing seemed unusual. Reid was sitting across from him on the jet, reading some book in Russian. At least he thought it was Russian. When he asked Reid if it was, he made a face which indicated it was not actually Russian. Any other day he would've corrected Derek on the fact it was Ukrainian (which Derek had to find out after looking the book up on his phone - tedious.) Any other day Reid would passionately explain away a passage in the book that particularly interested him. But today he was completely silent.
It was really starting to get to Derek. And he could tell the kid knew he was getting to him. Spencer would check his watch every so often, glimpse at him with a smug ass look on his face, then go back to his book. It was infuriating.
-----
The unsub they had been dealing with was a bride-killer. He targeted women during their bachelorette parties days before the women were set to be married. The only reason for him to pick such high-profile, high-risk women is if it were a compulsion.
“Maybe he’d gotten cheated on during his own bride’s bachelorette party,” Rossi said.
“Wouldn't he have to stalk these women for weeks to know they were getting married?” JJ questioned.
“Not necessarily,” said Morgan. “Wearing a bride-to-be sash like the victims were would be like waving a red cape at a bull.”
“It’s a common misconception but actually, bulls are colorblind. So it doesn't really matter what color the matador waves - it’s the cape’s movement that elicits an aggressive charge response in the bull.”
“...”
Everyone stared at Reid in a silence that stretched for seemingly forever. He shrunk under their intense gaze.
“Um, Morgan’s metaphor still applies here, though.”
Derek laughed the way he always did right before he teased Reid.
“I bet he can’t go a day without saying some completely unrelated fun fact during the investigation. He just can’t help himself.”
“It wasn’t completely unrelated..” Reid mumbled shyly, before speaking to be heard. “I can. But where's the fun in that?”
“You wanna put money on that?”
"Ooh, careful Morgan. Gambling with a Vegas boy is bound to go wrong." Rossi joked.
“The stakes are too unclear. And there would be too many technicalities. We'd argue over what constitutes as irrelevant to the investigation, what counts as a fun fact..” he trailed off as he realized the stares and silence were back.
“Okay, pretty boy. New stakes. I bet you can’t go without talking for… at least twelve hours. About anything.”
“Can I make any noise?”
“Hmm. Nah.”
“How much money?”
“Reid, Morgan, focus up.” Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose indignantly. “We need Reid to talk until the investigation is over. Then you can wager on your own time.” Hotch brought everyone’s attention back to catching the killer. From over his copy of the case file, Reid mouthed to Morgan. You’re on.
-----
It started right after the unsub was processed. Immediately after. As in, while Morgan was putting the suspect in cuffs, he had turned to Reid and said, “50 bucks?”
“Sure,” he replied. “Starting when?” The local PD came to take the unsub away.
“Now?”
Reid smiled confidently in response.
“Great work, everybody.” Hotch walked up to the team huddled inside the killer’s home. “Let’s get out of here. I’m buying coffee. What does everyone want?”
Reid opened his mouth to say something before pursing his lips. This would be harder than he thought.
-----
On the jet ride home, Derek had been trying to goad Reid into saying something. He facetimed Penelope.
“Hey mama, I got a question for you. Here, let me put you on speaker.”
“Oh! I love questions. You know I know everything. What’s up?”
He looked at Reid smugly as he talked, even though the kid was fixated on his book. “Why exactly does ‘Doctor Who’ spend so much time in places that look exactly like Earth when he's got a whole universe to explore? There ain’t no way Earth is more interesting than the entire universe.”
Oh my. The look on Reid’s face was devastating. The only time Morgan would ever willingly discuss Doctor Who, he couldn’t join the conversation. Derek’s heart would’ve broken if he hadn’t found it hilarious.
“...okay. Sweetheart, first of all, he is not called ‘Doctor Who.’ He’s called ‘The Doctor.’ Okay?” Penelope sighed, agitated. Some relief washed over Reid’s face as if that was what he wanted to say.
“Doctor Who is the name of the show. His identity is a mystery and he just goes by The Doctor. So people and alienfolk all go ‘Huh? What do you mean? Doctor Who?’ and that’s why the show is called that. You wouldn't call Captain Kirk 'Star Trek: The Original Series.'" Reid was positively pouting.
"Second of all, I heard about the little challenge you placed unto our baby genius and I will have no part in his torture. Tata.” Penelope hung up the phone.
Derek frowned and put the phone in his pocket. “Damn… I really was curious. Do you mind answering my question?” he taunted Reid with a toothy grin. Reid scowled and returned to his book. A true miracle he had so much self control over his hand gestures.
-----
Two hours had passed slowly and silently. It wasn’t fun anymore. Morgan had seen Reid perk up at least three times to infodump about the books he’s read during the flight, before he caught himself. Each time he was stupidly dejected afterward. Morgan didn’t love it. He hated it. The kid had been shut up his entire life by his peers and bullies. And now by his friends. His heart was actually starting to ache seeing his friend’s gaze become more and more distant.
“Hey, kid. Let’s just call it off.”
Spencer met his eyes and raised a brow.
“I wanna hear about the story. Genuinely.”
Spencer looked down at his watch, then crossed his arms. Morgan scoffed.
“Seriously, you want the 50 dollars that bad? There’s still an hour left before we land.” He didn't want to see Reid be depressed for the entire remainder of the flight. And the longer it went, it seemed less likely he'd be up for talking even after the time limit. Morgan couldn't handle that.
“C’mon man, it’s unhealthy for a brain to store so much information without an outlet. You’ll explode.”
Spencer smiled and huffed out of his nose. His eyes went wide. He awkwardly looked over to the side at nothing.
“..Was that a noise?” Spencer frowned and shook his head. A figmental lightbulb went off over Derek’s head.
He walked over to sit side-by-side with Spencer, who eyed him cautiously. He sighed. Maybe it was inappropriate to play dirty, but Spencer wasn't exactly giving him an option.
“Listen, we can do this the easy way. Where you open your mouth right now and call me an asshole for ever suggesting this stupid bet in the first place. Or we can do this, uh…” he grinned impishly, wiggling the fingers of one of his hands. “..the hard way.”
Spencer’s jaw clenched at the implication. He braved a face of nonchalance and for a moment, Derek thought maybe he wasn’t even ticklish. Or maybe he didn’t think Derek would actually do it. They were in front of their boss after all, their unit chief of the Federal Bureau of Investigation Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not in grade school.
But then Derek saw the red of his ears slowly make its way down to his cheeks and decided he couldn’t help himself. Plus, the kid wasn’t talking.
"Okay, have it your way."
It was childish, Derek would be the first to admit it. But he’d kill two birds with one stone. End the bet, and get Reid to smile a bit.
He wiggled an index finger lightly at the side of Spencer’s neck, which immediately got trapped. Spencer reached up to pull the hand out, before his wrist was snatched and Derek clawed at his ribs.
To Derek’s surprise, Spencer stayed quiet. His physical reaction, however, made up for it. He jerked and contorted so hard his back ended up on the seat of his chair. One leg curled up to protect the attacked side, while the other sprawled over Derek.
He kept his lips and eyes shut so tight they quivered.
“You’re kidding.” Derek was indignant. This was the most stubborn he’d ever seen him. “You can’t keep this up for an hour.”
After spending some time there, he moved up into his underarm. Spencer broke out into an open mouth grin and another spasm. But still no noise.
Derek let go of his wrist - bicep burning from Spencer's struggle against him - to use both his hands to tickle. Something happened that completely bewildered him.
Spencer was laughing. He was trembling, his stomach was tense, and his throat bobbed as it always did when he laughed. But it was silent. How the hell was he doing that? Why was he just taking it? Is he really going to endure this torture for the rest of the flight?
If he could, oh man. There was no way in hell Derek would stop. This was a much better sight than the sad quiet Spencer from earlier. He just wished he could hear it.
Derek was broken out of his thoughts when he saw tears fall from Spencer’s eyes, which suddenly looked much more desperate. He was turning a concerning shade of red. The drawback of silent laughter finally registered in Derek’s brain.
“Woah Jesus, kid! Breathe!” Derek immediately stilled his hands, reaching instead to grab hold of Reid’s face. It was hot to the touch. He quickly wiped away Reid's tears, which felt a bit intimate, but he didn't want the team to see he had accidentally tickled their greatest asset into crying. He figured Reid wouldn't want them to see either.
Derek helped him sit upright. Spencer breathed hard, a smile gracing his face as he peacefully closed his eyes in relief and weariness. His lips shaped in a circle to steady his breathing.
Absolutely infuriating. He would have passed out before he lost. It was a battle of wills, and even when Derek held all the cards, he folded first.
He wondered why Spencer was going so far for something so dumb. If he was trying to prove something to himself, to his team, to all the bullies who shut him up, Morgan would never live down the guilt. He hoped it was as simple as Reid just being a competitive little shit.
He groaned. “Okay, fine! You win, Spencer. You proved your point. You know how to stay quiet. Hell, not even I could…" he cleared his throat. "..uh, the point is, you won. You can have the 50 bucks. Please just talk to me.”
Spencer was still panting, the smile on his face seemed permanent. “You're.. an asshole,” he breathed. “And a cheater.”
“Yeah, I know.” Derek laughed.
“I still won, though. Whew."
“Yeah, yeah..” Relief. He was a competitive little shit.
"Can't believe you couldn't take just three hours of me not talking! You must really love learning."
He scoffed. "Whatever." Alright. The kid was starting to get cocky.
“Hasn't anyone ever told you cheaters never prosper?"
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.” He pinched at his side and Spencer laughed. Audibly, this time. Garcia would call it a swoon-worthy sound. Maybe those were his words.
He pulled out his government issued wallet before his hand was stopped. “Oh. I don’t actually want your money.”
“A bet’s a bet, Reid. You earned it fair and square.”
“You wouldn’t take it if you had won.” Spencer smiled. “Just buy me a coffee when we land. I didn’t get any earlier.”
Derek shrugged. If he took any lesson away from this, it was that the doctor was stubborn. “Alright, fine by me.”
“And listen when I say the whole point of the Doctor’s archetype is to love Earth - specifically humanity - and for logistical reasons it’s just more convenient for the setting to be on Earth or on a planet that resembles Cardiff, Wales..” Here we go. Spencer rambled on, speaking quickly and more with his hands than anything. Derek rolled his eyes, but he sat back and listened.
Fade into view
Fandom: Stranger Things
Characters: Steve/Eddie
Summary: Steve tries to confess to Eddie that he likes being tickled.
Words: 900
It was almost poetic, the way the sun spilled into the room that July afternoon and lit Steve up where he sat on Eddie’s bed, nearly like a spotlight. He truly did feel exposed, trying to figure out what to do with his hands, where to rest his gaze. Eddie wasn’t the worst audience - in fact he sat there patiently, kindness in his very bones - but despite how many times Steve had rehearsed this speech he still found the words stumbling over his tongue and refusing to come out right.
“I just-” He paused, swallowed, restarted. “Maybe you’ve noticed that, uh-” Inhaled, restarted. “You know this thing you do.” His only full sentence made almost no sense.
“Thing?” Eddie, bless him, did his very best to not smile, although his struggle was very visible to Steve who would love to put his attention anywhere but on his confession.
“You know.” There were many things Eddie did, Harrington. “How you- torment me?”
“With tickles?” It wasn’t necessarily a miracle that Eddie could figure it out just from that, since Steve always said he liked tormenting him after he’d reduced him to an incoherent mess. “Sure.”
“It, uh-” Made him so fucking happy he was putting himself through the torture of saying it aloud just so Eddie never took his protests seriously enough and stopped doing it? He couldn’t say that. No way.
“It what?” Eddie tilted his head at him now, curiosity laced in the way he batted his eyelashes, in the way he raised his eyebrows. “Am I doing it too much?”
“No, no.” Truth was he probably was, but Steve, being an addict, needed it even more. “I- is it hot in here or is it just me?”
Eddie reached out and grabbed the hem of Steve’s shirt, fingertips nudging his neck and making him recoil ever so slightly, but all Eddie did was pull at it. “Maybe go for a tank top. I can lend you one.”
“It’s okay,” Steve said, because he knew that if he allowed Eddie to get up and walk away he would never try to speak of this again. “I, uh. Well. You know. How you torment me?”
“Yes, we’ve established that I’m terrible for tickling you,” he said with a laugh. “I can stop.”
“No.” The word had left his mouth much too quickly for Steve to register it was even forming on his tongue.
Eddie raised an eyebrow. “No?”
“Uhm.” What the fuck was he supposed to say now? “I just-”
“Do you like it or somethin’?”
Steve’s heart skipped a beat and he looked away. He could lie. He could say no. Say he simply enjoyed the intimacy of it all. Say he enjoyed laughing. But while all of it was true it missed the key part of it all: that he liked it, period. Liked the whole experience of it.
“I do.”
He wasn’t sure what he expected Eddie to do. To ask questions, to get up and leave, to call him gross. All he knew was that he didn’t expect him to let out a low laugh, reach out to gently squeeze his knee and say, “I know, I’m just messing with you.” But he did do exactly that.
“What.” Steve’s word was barely a question at this point. “You mean to tell me I’ve been sitting here trying to confess like a moron and you already knew?”
“You make me sound mean when you put it that way.” Eddie shrugged. “But yes. Of course I knew. Why do you think I keep doing it?”
“God, I hate you so much.”
“Awe, but you were just confiding in me. Of course you don’t hate me.”
“Stop grinning at me.”
“I can’t help it when you’re so endearing.” Eddie tried to pinch Steve’s cheek, but he slapped his hand away. “You don’t want me to touch you? You don’t want me to tickle your belly to pieces right this second?”
“Shut up.”
“Pin you down and make you say out loud how much you like it?”
“Oh my god, you wouldn’t.”
“Watch you blush and stutter.”
“Eddie, I swear to god.”
Eddie softened, reaching out to run his hand over Steve’s hair. “I wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want me to. And thank you for telling me. You know I’m just messing with you.”
“You love teasing me,” Steve mumbled, leaning into the touch. “So mean.”
“I enjoy flustering you, I do admit.” He moved his hand down, cupping Steve’s cheek. “And I won’t tickle you until you ask me to.”
“Oh my god, you are mean.”
“I would call it considerate.” Eddie trailed his hand down further, fingertip moving from his throat to his chest to his ribs to his belly. “Just say when.”
Of course Steve said when, quietly, awkwardly, breathlessly, and Eddie had him pinned immediately, fingers curling over his skin and not stopping. Steve started begging for mercy out of habit, but he knew he would die if Eddie stopped now. Luckily for him Eddie must’ve realized it, for he merely used his other hand to squeeze at his thigh, over and over and over until Steve nearly bucked him off the bed. “Fuck!” he cried, and Eddie laughed as well, purring out a “Yeah?” which had Steve blushing to his roots.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
Your back beneath the sun, wishin' I could write my name on it
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters: Reid/Morgan
Summary: Spencer spends some time in the sun which reveals that he has freckles on his back. Derek becomes a little infatuated with them.
Words: 1.5k
It was July, a sleepiness stretching over the town along with the heat and dust which Spencer would choke on as walked out onto the melting streets. He’d never been a fan of July. Not a fan of summers in general. He couldn’t stand the heat, he couldn’t stand the thought of being forced to go home to an empty apartment, or to visit his mother who seemed to be worse after each visit, for weeks on end. Although he did admit he enjoyed the extra time he could dedicate to his own research, not that his job ever really stopped him from doing it anyway.
This July was different. This July contained Derek, clad in cotton shirts and bathing shorts and ridiculous hats and t-shirts with the words “I love Vegas” printed on them. “You have to stop buying those,” Spencer told him, rolling his eyes and hiding his smile as Derek straightened proudly after each purchase. “They’re just stealing your money.”
“I don’t care. I look good in them.”
Spencer had to admit there weren’t many things that Derek looked bad in anyway.
Another reason Spencer didn’t like summer was the frequent sunburns he suffered despite mostly hiding in the shade. There was always one careless weekend which left him pink and peeling. He’d gotten better at avoiding them as he got older. Sunscreen and hats and non-white shirts for protection, even while hunched over a book in the shade, although it got harder to stay out of the water with Derek Morgan there, who kept picking him up and running into the somehow still too cold waves as Spencer threatened his life. He was always laughing toward the end of it, after he’d come out spluttering and pointing and frowning in a way he knew wouldn’t last. Because of the trips to the lake and pool Spencer was exposed to the sun in short batches, leaving him with a quite nice tan for the first time in many years.
Derek was obsessed with it. “You have freckles.”
“I do?”
“On your back. Here.” He poked a spot just below Spencer’s shoulder blade. “Here.” Again on his spine. “Here.”
The poke landed too close to his lower back this time and Spencer found himself jerking away. “H-hey! Don’t do that.”
“Why not?” He could hear Derek’s smirk without even seeing him. “Did it tickle?”
“Shut up.”
“Awe, come on. You’ve not shown this at all when I’ve applied sunscreen to your back. Have you been holding back on me?” He poked him again and Spencer couldn’t help the giggle that escaped this time. “Oh my god, you’re so cute. How is a grown man cute.”
Spencer twisted around and held up his hands. “Mercy.”
“Hmm, what’s in it for me?”
It would be so easy to say something along the lines of “a kiss” or anything like it, but this was all new, mostly unexplored, and Spencer wasn’t sure if that was too forward even though they’d kissed plenty of times by then. Maybe it was because they were both shirtless, Derek glistening with oil and water drops, tilting his head in a way at him that made Spencer blush.
He looked away, suddenly fascinated by the water. “You’ll never catch me,” was all he said and he was off, Derek laughing as he chased him into the waves and the freckles were forgotten for the time being.
*
“Are you asleep?”
It wasn’t late. 4:37 in the afternoon. The room was stuffy despite the rickety fan on the desk, the curtains were drawn in the hopes of cooling the room down, and Spencer lay there feeling Derek’s fingertips on his skin for ten more seconds before he answered. “No.”
Derek hummed, scraping his nails lightly over Spencer’s arm, up and down until he shivered. “I’m bored, but I’m too tired to do anything.” A poke to his shoulder. “You should entertain me, since I’m your guest.”
Spencer let out a laugh. “Is that how it works?”
“Yup.”
“We could plan where to go for dinner?” Spencer had to admit it was fun showing him around his home town, going to places he wouldn’t really go to himself as an old local.
Derek sighed. “Boring.”
Spencer turned to look at him. “Aren’t you picky.”
Derek suddenly grinned. “I know what we can do.”
Spencer’s heart skipped a beat. “What-”
Derek shoved him back to his side. “Stay still.”
“Derek.”
“I wanna connect your freckles. Find constellations.”
“Do you even know any constellations?”
“Sure. Orion’s Belt. Look, there it is.” He poked Spencer’s skin three times before lightly tracing his finger over the same spots again, making Spencer jump. “I said be still.”
“I can’t.”
“Sure you can. I believe in you.”
Spencer rolled over to his stomach and buried his face in the pillow, giggling into it as Derek kept drawing random patterns over his skin, from his shoulder to the curve of his lower back. Not all of it tickled, but it tickled enough that it left him a bit of a mess, unsure of when he would go for a sensitive spot. Giddy and jumpy. He could tell Derek was enjoying himself, although he kept up the pretense of connecting freckles and making constellations throughout the whole thing, laughing between his words.
“Please, it’s hot,” Spencer finally said when Derek remained at his lower back for a little too long, curling his fingers over both sides and leaving Spencer with little space to get away. He’d started sweating, which probably worked against him and made it tickle even worse.
Derek made a big show out of stopping. “Fine,” he said with a sigh, throwing himself down onto the bed again. “Back to being bored then.”
Spencer huffed and rolled over so that he was lying on his back, realizing he was exposing all of his other spots and feeling too tired to care. “You’re so mean to me.”
“Am not.”
“First you call me boring, then you torture me.”
“Mm, you loved it. I didn’t get elbowed a single time.” He scooted closer and pressed his lips to Spencer’s temple, despite his sweat. Spencer didn’t stop him, although he felt self conscious about it.
They remained silent for a moment, finding relief as the fan panned over them over and over. Spencer nearly fell asleep had his stomach not made the loudest sound known to humanity which had Derek cracking up.
“You hungry, huh?” he said, poking at it and making Spencer whine as he jerked away. “Let’s get ready for dinner then. Or do you need a snack first?”
“Will it be an actual snack or will you just offer yourself again?”
“You’re no fun, Spence.”
*
Derek applied sunscreen onto Spencer’s back with care the next morning, palms kneading into his shoulders and shoulder blades, fingertips pressing into his sides, none of it ticklish and yet Spencer felt on edge. He knew Derek was probably doing it on purpose, and he was expecting the eventual tickle that came as he finished, quick flutters over his lower back and the back of his ribs, making him let out a laugh which was too loud, too panicked, yet short-lived.
Derek was grinning when Spencer turned to glare at him, something about them not being alone at the tip of his tongue, but Derek swallowed it with his lips, fingers spidering up Spencer’s sides before settling at his neck, holding his jaw gently as he kissed him again.
It was already too hot that morning, and so Spencer would blame the heat for the way his face flushed when they parted. “Do you ever get freckles on your front?” Derek asked before he could say anything, and while Spencer didn’t reply they both knew the answer was probably yes. “Speaking of that,” he added nonchalantly. “Do you need help applying sunscreen to your belly? I feel like you’re not doing a good enough job.”
“I frankly feel offended even though I know you’re kidding.
“Who’s kidding?”
Spencer huffed and threw Derek’s stupid Las Vegas cap at him as Derek laughed. “You’re so annoying. I’m leaving you in Virginia next time.”
“Lies. You’ll miss me too much. Who will put sunscreen on you if I’m not here?”
“You do realize I wouldn’t be spending nearly as much time in the sun if you weren’t here, right?”
“And that explains why you didn’t know you had freckles.” Derek poked his side. “Can’t wait until I get to connect them on your front. I’m gonna force you to sunbathe today.”
Spencer shoved him away. “I’m protesting.”
“Oh, you have no choice, pretty boy.”
“Stop acting as if you wouldn’t tickle me without the freckles anyway.”
“But this makes it much more fun, doesn’t it?” Derek grinned and Spencer blushed and they were soon in the water again before Spencer could even protest it.
Maybe Derek Morgan was making him like julys, after all.
It's camp!
Fandom: Stranger Things
Characters: Steve, Robin
Anonymous said: Hi! Could you write one where Steve is messing with Robin so she straddles him and tickles his belly button? Maybe they’re at his house having a sleepover and he makes fun of her haircut?
Words: 920
Steve became suspicious when Robin didn’t want to take her hat off in the middle of july. “You’re gonna get heat stroke,” he told her, going back and forth between opening his window and slamming it shut upon realizing it was still too early in the evening for the air to have cooled down. “I’m serious, Robin, I don’t feel like driving you to the hospital if you collapse.”
She rolled her eyes, pulling the neon green thing lower down so that it covered her eyebrows. “It’s comfy.”
“It’s psychotic behavior. Did you shave your head or somethin’?” It was mostly a joke, but the way Robin tensed up made him gasp. “You didn’t.”
“I didn’t!” she was quick to reassure him, pulling a strand of hair out of the hat. “See? Hair.”
“So then what’s your deal?”
“I might’ve cut my hair myself?”
Steve waited for her to laugh and say she was joking, but no laughter came. “Robin, oh my god.”
“Listen,” she started, sitting up, legs crossed on Steve’s bed, where she was about to spend the night like many other nights. “I- it’s a gay thing.”
“Okay?”
“Shorter hair? Like short short hair.”
“Right.”
“The hairdresser never wants to cut it as short as I want.”
Steve was beginning to see where this was going. “So you decided to take matters into your own hands.”
“Exactly. But-” She winced, grabbing her hat, but not pulling it off. “But I messed up.”
Steve rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You should’ve asked for help.”
“I know.”
Her voice sounded small, which was fucking terrifying to hear and Steve found himself reaching out to squeeze her knee. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
“Promise you won’t laugh if I show you?”
“‘Course not.”
“It’s getting hot.”
“Told you.”
She sighed and shoved the hat off, her hair a mess of tangles on top of her head. Steve waited for it to settle down enough before he said anything, only to promptly realize it wasn’t settling down at all.
“Oh my god.”
“You said you wouldn’t laugh!”
“Woah, woah, am I laughing?” He wasn’t laughing, but that was mostly due to shock. “Robin, I- Did you try to cut layers?”
Robin nodded wordlessly and Steve mentally wondered how he could convince her to go get it fixed at a hairdresser. “It’s- nice. It’s camp.”
“Did Eddie teach you cultural words again?”
“It’s a good thing he did. I can definitely see the vision here.” He framed her face with his hands. “Way ahead of your time. A trendsetter.”
Robin snorted. “You’re making fun of me.”
“I’m not! It’s-” He waved his hands around, trying to think of a word. “Cool?” The way he’d said it, slightly high pitched, laced in a question, accidentally made way for a laugh which came out at the end, and he was already apologizing by the time Robin had tackled him.
“You’re so dead, Harrington!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s not funny, it’s just-”
“It looks bad. Just say it.”
“I’m sure we can get it fixed-” He had no time to say anything else as Robin’s fingers were worming their way under his arms, nimble and strong and unbearably ticklish. “Wait, wait, I’m only trying to he- stop!”
Straddling his hips, Robin and her ridiculous haircut hunched over him, her frown slowly smoothing out as he laughed and laughed and begged and laughed. She’d caught him off guard, okay? He could totally fight back otherwise. Probably.
“Oh-kay, no, not there, come on-”
Robin had this thing where she would zero in on a spot and not move away until Steve was a puddle beneath her. This time it just so happened to already be one of his worst spots, much worse than underarms which she’d only tortured for a minute. As Robin ignored him and tickled the edges of his belly button, shoving his flailing arms away easily, Steve felt he would pay for three of her haircuts if only she stopped.
It was a good thing they were alone, because Steve’s scream could surely be heard throughout the whole house. “Robin!”
“This is what you get,” she said, finally grinning at him which was at least a bit of a win for him. “I told you not to laugh.”
“I barely did- oh my god!”
His hands being free was nearly worse, as he came close to relief and then pulled right away from it. Robin was occupying one of her own hands purely with blocking his attempts, her other dancing around his belly, but mostly keeping close to his navel. His shirt was still pulled down, but it tickled too much nevertheless.
The first time she’d discovered this particular spot was a day he could never forget no matter how much he tried. The persistent pokes, over and over again, laughing when he jumped. Embarrassing, but also strangely nice to feel close enough that this could be happening. She’d discovered many spots since, but that memory was one of his strongest.
Also maybe because Robin kept bringing it up, making a very clear reference now as she was poking at his navel over and over. His whole body jerked with each poke, his laughter becoming choppy. He felt nearly as ridiculous as her haircut. Maybe he shouldn’t tell her that though. Although how much worse could this get if he did?
She stuck her hand under his shirt and Steve found out just how much worse it could get, all right.
reading tk fics: 🙂🙂😊
reading fics that happen to have tickling: 🤯😱🦋
hi welcome
this blog is very messy and not very active. will organize eventually.
i am quite new to tumblr and i'm still trying to learn how it works.
a very beginner fic writer
always looking for new friends, don't be shy!
i like criminal minds, doctor who, good omens, supernatural, stardew valley and a lot lot lot lot more but those are the mains.
i have recently discovered i have a proclivity towards tickling. if you find it strange so do i. but i will be using this space to explore it. thank you and have an amazing day 💗
If this is too much detail for a flash fic, please feel free to ignore this!! But I was thinking something where Spencer and Derek have to go undercover as a couple for something (maybe to a gay bar or something bc that’s where the unsub seems to be picking people up) and someone tries to flirt with Spencer and Derek starts to play the boyfriend act a little too well??👀
It wasn’t necessarily unusual, snaking his arm around Spencer, but Derek had to admit it felt strange to keep it there for longer. He wasn’t used to feeling the curve of his body moving as he swayed along to the music, maybe mostly because Derek himself was swaying and pulling him along with him. The bar was crowded, the music loud, and Derek knew Spencer would get overstimulated soon and so they tried to be quick about it. Only it was no easy task to hurry up a stake out, especially when they barely knew what they were looking for. It was pride month, so obviously the bar was spilling over with music and laughter and dancing bodies, all celebrating, all happy.
Derek gave Spencer’s side a squeeze. “Wanna dance?”
Reid turned to look at him, a deer caught in headlights. “Now?”
“Just for a moment. Scout the room out. Then we’ll know where it’s best to position us.” While all of it was true Derek had also suggested it because he wanted to see Spencer dance to techno, as one does. He was wearing a tight light blue relatively cropped shirt to Derek black net shirt. Maybe them being chosen to go undercover to a gay bar as a couple wasn’t as odd as Derek had first thought. Derek had the clubbing experience and Reid had the gay bar one, albeit on a much lower scale.
“Maybe we should get a drink first,” Spencer said, turning his body toward the bar. “Are we allowed to drink on the clock? Maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe we should get sodas.”
Derek squeezed his side again, content when he felt the muscles tense up. “Come on, one dance.”
“Morgan, please-”
A drink as big as Spencer’s head was suddenly presented right in front of them, and when Morgan looked up a man looking much too smug was grinning at them from behind it. “I took the liberty of buying you a drink.” He all but forced it into Spencer’s hands. “I hope that’s okay,” he said, and Derek could’ve sworn he glanced over at him condescendingly for a second.
“Oh, I, uh-” Spencer looked at Derek, obviously panicked.
Derek was caught between amusement and annoyance. “He’s okay, thank you. He doesn’t drink.” He pulled Spencer closer and took the drink from him with his other hand. “Thanks for offering, though.”
“He doesn’t speak for himself?” The man raised an eyebrow at him. “Pity.”
“Of course he does,” Derek snapped. “But he makes a habit of not talking to creeps who barely introduce themselves. Move along now.”
“Big guy, huh? That your type?” He’d turned to Spencer again, looking angry now.
Spencer straightened. “My type is considerate and kind. So yes, you could say he is my type.”
The man huffed and left as quickly as he’d arrived, disappearing into the crowd to go creep on someone else. Maybe they should keep an eye on him.
Derek put the drink on a table close by, not trusting it to not be spiked. “You’re gonna make me blush, pretty boy.”
“Oh, shut up.” Spencer shoved him with his shoulder. “You got that overprotective jealous boyfriend act down to a T.”
“Is that so?” He squeezed Spencer’s side differently now, hitting all the right spots to make him jerk away, only he of course jerked into Derek and so he could do it again. “How about this? Is this boyfriend behavior?”
“Don’t-”
Spencer’s laughter got lost in the sound, and that simply wouldn’t do so Derek used his other hand to poke at his belly, hoping to throw him into that gentle panic that was enough to get him giggling. “There we go, pretty boy.”
Spencer twisted out of his grip, palms up and facing him. “Come on, not here.”
“Not here, not at work, not on the jet, not in the car. When, exactly, am I supposed to do this?”
“We’re working.”
Derek huffed. “Fine. I’m breaking into your apartment later then. Finish my boyfriend duties. Not like that,” he added with a laugh at Spencer’s expression. “You need to buy me dinner first.”
Making Blindfolds Fun (Spencer/Maeve)
Summary: Maeve keeps her promise; blindfolds can be a lot of fun. (I AM CRIMINAL MINDS TRASH SORRY ANYWAY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS BYE) {Warnings for slight bondage and sexual themes!}
“I’ll make blindfolds fun again.”
After the incident with Diane, Spencer was sure that promise wouldn’t be able to be fulfilled. Two traumatic experiences were much harder to cure than one. But Maeve was kind, and gentle, never pushing the subject or making him feel unsafe or uncomfortable.
They built up to it, kissing with her hands over his eyes, him allowing her to hold his wrists together in her hands…And he felt safe with her.
Keep reading
Me: I wanna make more tumblr friends. *Someone messages me* Also me: I have literally no energy to respond. I am a corpse.
omg @tickletastic fantastic list of comfort movies !! 💗💗
1. Love and Monsters
2. Blues Brothers
3. Princess and the Frog
4. austin powers: international man of mystery
5. austin powers: the spy who shagged me
6. austin powers: goldmember
7. between the first HTTYD and Wall-e
the list is somewhat out of order bc honestly i can't choose one over the other. also i'm so sorry but everyone i meant to tag has been tagged already </3
I was tagged by the lovely @blue-eyed-giant to list 7 comfort movies and tag 7 people
1) Seven Brides For Seven Brothers
2) Grease
3) Jaws (specifically my film when I’m on my period)
4) Beetlejuice
5) Little Shop Of Horrors (1986)
6) Dirty Dancing
7) The Prom
I’m going to tag @nocturnal-cryptid @spaghettiwithnachos13 @starship21zedna9 @spineless-lobster @cinder-watches-musicals @ineffablelunatic @is-it-mungojerry-or-rumpelteazer no pressure!!!
sorry, i heard you call him doctor who and i just have to say that’s actually not his name, you’re thinking of doctor who’s monster.
The longing never bared aches to be revealed
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters: Derek/Spencer
Summary: Spencer tries to explain to Derek why he likes tickling.
A/N: Look at me resurrecting my ‘verse! I guess you can read this independently, but it does reference this fic and takes place in that universe. I hope you enjoy!
Words: 1.5k
(Read it on ao3)
Sometimes, when they’d both fallen quiet, or if they’d steered their conversation toward an especially vulnerable topic, Derek would notice Spencer’s reluctance to meet his eyes. It was cute to see him become so shy. Not discomfort or even awkwardness, but simply shyness, something Spencer rarely displayed before, well, everything. The case had forced out embarrassment, and while Derek enjoyed seeing the way his blush spread out across his face, it was different when he was just feeling shy as opposed to being embarrassed. Embarrassment came without consent. The case, the capture, the inevitable discussions about tickling and what it meant to him: that had embarrassed him.
But now? The pinkening of his cheeks and the avoidance of eye contact only spoke of timidness, and Derek was in love with it. The shyness that came because he allowed himself to be put in a vulnerable position and trusting Derek enough to not take advantage of it in the wrong way.
“Look at me.” He placed his fingertips on Spencer’s chin, tapping it gently to get him to look up. He knew it tickled him. He knew he would jerk away with a panicked giggle each time, and yet Spencer never asked him to stop doing it. Derek had briefly wondered if he avoided his gaze just for him to do it, but while the notion was incredibly endearing he had a feeling it wasn’t the only reason.
“I’m looking,” Spencer said now, having of course let out that laugh Derek had been waiting for.
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he's a ten but the bbc keeps calling him the fourteenth doctor
Checkmate
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters: Morgan, Hotch, Reid
Anonymous said: so for lee!reid, could it be that he’s constantly bragging abt how good he is at chess, and hotch and morgan tickle him in an attempt to (lovingly) bring down his ego
Words: 630
“Checkmate.”
“Oh, come on.”
Reid seemed to try, to his credit, not to gloat, but Morgan knew this scenario all too well. Had seen it with both himself and other members of the team. The only person who rarely got to see Reid brag about winning chess was Gideon, but Reid probably wouldn’t be gloating at Gideon anyway.
He watched him now, annoyance rising slowly inside of him as Reid bit his lip to keep from smiling, eyes downcast, looking so goddamn smug that Morgan nearly angered, having siblings and all. Maybe it was because he had siblings that he found himself unable to not take the bait. “You cheated.”
“I didn’t,” Reid said matter of factly. When he looked up he seemed earnest, which made Morgan huff. “I swear.”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t be so goddamn smug about it.”
Reid turned to Hotch, who was sitting beside him with his gaze stuck on the case file. “Tell him you can’t cheat at chess.”
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the doctor emotionally monologuing at the daleks and then it cutting to shots like this is one of my favorite parts of dw
Some of my favorite CM cast pictures
.....Guys, Spencer writes coffee shops AUs, Spencer writes coffee shops AUs, SPENCER WRITES COFFEE SHOPS AUS-
it’s not so bad here
fandom: criminal minds
w/c: 2155
pairing: platonic BAU (mostly prentiss and morgan), spencer reid
summary: perspective of spencer: on the jet ride home after a long case. The team is so tired they get a lil silly. fluff + minimum angst I mean it is spencer’s brain.
a/n: this is quite literally my first time for everything, my first time using tumblr and my first ever fanfiction. i had a lot of fun so perhaps expect more maybe?? I want to thank the amazing @nhasablogg for being the biggest inspiration and just so cool honestly. they helped a lot with this work and have just been the kindest person ever!!! anyway pls read the following with all this☝️in mind.
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Spencer never really got used to flying. The team was currently thirty-six-thousand-eight-hundred-sixty-four feet above what Spencer assumed (or more accurately, calculated) would be Tennessee based on flight patterns from Dallas to Quantico and the amount of time they’ve been in air for. Which was roughly three hours, forty-five minutes, six seconds. Seven. Eight. They had about three more hours to go.
The pressure was building in Spencer’s ears and he grimaced, swallowing hard in an attempt to pop them. He always felt a pang of anxiety whenever any pain came to his head, as his memory would replay his mother’s cries for relief during bad episodes.
There was one night when Spencer was eleven, experiencing his first true migraine after finishing his college applications. It was one of the few times Spencer remembered his mother taking care of him instead of the other way around, she was almost completely lucid. His fear was much stronger then, and while he was a boy-genius, his brain was still biologically too immature to handle it.
“I’m dying, mom.” The corners of his eyes wet with tears. His mother smiled at him. It wasn’t often that Spencer behaved his age like this.
“No baby, your head is just too full, and your skull is too small to contain it. The pain is just your head expanding, working to grow and stay ahead of your thoughts.”
“Actually, your brain can’t be too big for your skull. There’s just a blood vessel swelling, and that’s putting pressure on the surrounding nerves which is making the muscles around my skull tighten and causing…” he groaned in frustrated pain. His mother stroked his hair soothingly.
“Would you listen to your mother for once, Spencer? Just go to sleep, you can’t feel the world in your sleep, you know. Go somewhere other than this reality, where your head isn’t constantly working. Relieve some of that pressure... It’s too stressful here, isn’t it?” A far too familiar distant look crossed her eyes for a moment. He rushed to retrieve her.
“Mom.. would you stay with me tonight?”
She returned her son’s gaze. “Of course, I’m not going anywhere.”
His pain seeped out with every stroke, as if his mother’s fingers were magically sucking it out from his skin. As he fell asleep, he found that she was right. He didn’t feel anything. It was like traveling through time.
—————
The case in Texas was particularly rough. Over the past five days, the team got maybe a total of eight hours of rest each. And as far as successes go, they’ve gotten better wins. As a headache creeped up on Spencer, he kicked off his shoes and curled up on the jet couch for a nap. He fell asleep pretty quickly, ready to skip through the headache until he was in Virginia again.
But a funny sensation on his right foot caused his leg to jerk in. I thought I couldn’t feel the world in my sleep. He stirred to see Prentiss standing at the end of the couch.
“I like your socks, Reid.” She said, before wiggling her fingers over his left pink-and-purple striped sock.
“Hey!” He pulled his other leg in and smushed it against the cushion to smother the feeling. He checked his watch, the jet couldn’t be landing already? “What’d you wake me up for?”
“I couldn’t help myself. Purple’s my favorite color.” She grinned at his reaction, before it faded into a frown. “Hang on, now that you’re up though, how come you always get the full couch to sleep on?” Morgan leaned over from his seat, invested in the conversation.
“Thank you. I’ve been meaning to say something about that bull.” He craned his neck, exaggerating the pain of sleeping upright.
“Reid is the youngest,” Hotch said from out of nowhere, neither against him nor in his defense. Spencer hadn’t even noticed him watching. Had they all been watching him sleep? Rossi continued for Hotch, “I suppose he assumed he got first rights to the couch for being born last. And you all let him.”
Hotch went back to the paperwork in his lap, diligent even while running on no sleep. “No, what about Ashley Seaver? She was younger than Reid,” he said. Definitely against him.
“And he still took the couch. Like a gentleman,” said Rossi.
Suddenly, Spencer felt very ganged up on.
“Is that right?” Morgan squinted at Spencer as if he stole something precious from him.
“I don’t think that’s fair,” Prentiss said. “We can’t let him get away with this anymore.”
At first, he was confused by the rare playfulness of his coworkers, especially from Hotch adding to the banter after the crazy, long week. Then he realized; everyone was sleep deprived and filled with a goofy, delirious energy. And while they weren’t able to catch the unsub, they were able to return a young girl back to her family - traumatized, but albeit unharmed - something they saw far too little of. The feeling left everyone more fuzzy than anything, it outweighed the disappointment of losing the unsub. Reuniting a family always strengthened his own, Spencer thought. Perhaps that fuzziness and fatigue was expunging all the professionalism they maintained while the case was ongoing.
And now Spencer - who was just sleeping soundly on the couch that everyone was hungry for - was beginning to feel that fuzziness himself. He faced his back towards his team as he pulled his cover up to his chin and closed his eyes.
“If you wanted it, you should’ve gotten to it first.”
At that, he heard Morgan rise and make his way toward the couch. The blanket was ripped off him dramatically. He kept his eyes closed and opened his mouth to snore lightly. His snore lasted half a second before the sound was abruptly cut off, immediately snapping his mouth shut in a toothy grimace and slamming his elbow down to his side.
“Get your ass up, Reid,”
“No.” He buried his face into the back of the couch, trying to hide his smile as if the way his elbow followed each of Morgan’s delivered pokes didn’t give him away. Reid stiffened a bit more, he focused on schooling his reactions and moving less. If he started laughing, there was no way they would stop, probably even after he gave up what they wanted.
“C‘mon, it’s time to wake up.” His resolve began to crumble when Morgan tasered both sides of his ribs. “Share with the rest of us.”
“Ahhh-ha! Stop!” He huffed out a laugh before holding his breath to stop himself. His face quickly flushed as he wiggled on the couch.
“You know, everyone else sits during the whole flight. As a courtesy to the rest of the team. Except for you-” He accentuated by digging into his ribs again, causing another yelp and laugh to slip. “-who’s just sleeping here like a baby. What’s up with that?”
“Derek-“
“Hmm?”
He couldn’t speak.
“Aww, what’s the matter, Reid? You’re not ticklish, are you?” Prentiss cooed as if nobody could tell he would be just by looking at him.
That’s all it took to crack him. Once the hysterical laughter began he couldn’t stop it. Like a defense mechanism, his brain started working in overdrive to apply logic to best overcome this assault. It took no time to figure out he could never physically stop Morgan; in terms of strength he was far outmatched.
Well, tickling is essentially the body’s response to unpredictable stimuli, so theoretically he could dull the sensations by predicting the attacks. He could trick his brain into believing he was tickling himself. He applied it in a fraction of a second.
All he did was swat at Morgan’s hands in an awkwardly gentle manner, unable to take hold of them. It really did absolutely nothing. Spencer wondered if he were one of the few who could tickle himself.
Before he could think of another solution, Prentiss grabbed one of his arms and hoisted it up above his head.
“No no no, wait wait doN’T-“
Being able to predict was proven a completely worthless tactic. Morgan tickled under his arm and he screamed. His ears finally popped and he could hear the sounds of his own bright laughter at its true pitch. His defense mechanism was shot, as if Morgan’s fingers were sucking out any ability to form a useful thought.
“Oh my god, how’d an eagle get so high up here?” Prentiss teased before breaking down herself.
Spencer wailed and curled his legs in protectively. When that did nothing, he kicked and pulled down at his arm. When that did nothing, he fell back in a whiny giggle in an attempt to garner their sympathy. That did nothing but encourage them.
“Hotch!”
Hotch finished his note, glanced very briefly at his team before returning to his work with the slightest of smiles. Spencer felt betrayed. Supervisory special agent my AAHHAA-
“Oh oh, what’s going on? It sounds like fun, let me see,” JJ turned the laptop over to show Garcia what was happening: Spencer flopping red in the face with Morgan practically sitting on him, Prentiss crouching - legs wobbly from her own laughter - behind Spencer’s head, still holding onto his arm.
“Oh geez, Spencer. How did I not know you were ticklish! Because of course you are. What did he do to deserve this? Did he cheat at Go Fish again?”
Upon seeing Garcia’s grin and his own disheveled form mirrored back at him, Spencer felt embarrassed. If anyone was going to make this a recurring experience, it would be her. He wasn’t totally against the idea, which made him blush furiously harder.
“Okay, okayokay! Y-you can have the couch. I don’t want it. I don’t want it!” Prentiss let go and Spencer squirmed out of Morgan’s grasp, falling to the floor of the jet. He stayed there catching his breath in high-pitched giggles, bewildered by what just happened. He wiped his eyes and looked up at Hotch and Rossi, who stared down at him with immense amusement.
“Thanks for the help guys,” he exhaled, exhausted. They both shook their heads with fond smiles.
“I trusted my agents could handle an internal conflict on their own,” Hotch said.
“You mean manhandle..”
He looked to Morgan, who was settling comfortably on the couch with Reid’s blanket, Prentiss cuddling next to him. He rubbed his sides and looked down at the ground, defeated.
“There’s plenty of room for all of us, big guy,” Prentiss offered her hand, inviting him to the couch. Spencer took it with a smile and sat down awkwardly with his hands resting on his thighs. She draped the blanket over the three of them.
“I’m sorry for being a couch hog.”
“I’m sure you are,” Prentiss snickered.
“It’s alright, Reid, you seem like you always need the sleep. We were just having fun. Did we go too far?” Morgan asked sincerely, arm around Emily and hand on Reid’s shoulder.
“Nah.. I-I had fun too. I mean, I haven’t laughed that hard in a while. I don’t think you guys have either actually.”
“Yeah, well, you did look really funny.” Prentiss said.
Spencer nudged her with a smile, earning him a poke which he quickly followed with a soft noooo don’t.
Morgan scratched the side of his head, mostly to teasingly get his attention. But it felt nice. “Start preparing for a lot more of that.”
“Hmm.. my mom used to do this for me.”
“Tickle you?”
“Uh, no. Stroke my hair. Whenever I got a bad headache, she would tell me to sleep, and then she would pet me until I did.”
“Do you have a headache now?”
“Earlier, a little.”
Without saying any more, Morgan patted down his (now) short hair before stroking up and down soothingly.
“Like that?”
Spencer slumped over and began fake-snoring. Morgan withdrew his hand and sat up a little straighter, which immediately woke him back up “I’m kidding I’m kidding I’m kidding please just- keep doing what you were doing.” They returned to their original positions after Morgan shot him a warning look.
Prentiss rested her head on his shoulder. He leaned his own head back against the couch and allowed himself to relax. The reality of Emily being there with all of them suddenly hit him. Countless nights he begged for her death to be reversed, to be a hoax. To be replaced even. Back then he wished to go to another reality, somewhere without the pressure and the stress, somewhere he couldn’t feel the world. But now, how lucky was he for her to be returned, for her to be truly safe and sound and laughing with them again? He would rather be nowhere else.
He checked his watch, there was two hours left of the flight. The three of them fell asleep very quickly, but rather than try to skip through time, Spencer savored the moment.
alright my next post ain’t nobody going to be able to predict this
hello this is my first post ever the following will be me testing out absolutely everything please stay tuned with patience