#moreid drabble
Note
blurb request: the crisp chill of a winter morning
hehe thank you for the blurb. moreid content ahead bc i know you like them + baby hank. sorry if i didn't get their voices right. wc: 160ish
Derek stands at the front door, breathing in the crisp air. He's tired, that's for sure, but his mind is more active than it's ever been. He almost can't quieten the thoughts. But then, as he stares out into the night sky, familiar arms wrap around him and he feels at ease.
"What are you doing up, pretty boy?"
Spencer hums against his shoulder. "Could ask you the same thing. It's cold."
"It's winter."
"Then why are you standing outside in a flimsy shirt and a pair of shorts?"
Derek turns around in his arms and makes an offended noise. "You think this shirt is flimsy?"
"It's pretty thin."
"I thought you liked this shirt!"
"Why'd you think I like it?" Spencer smirks.
"Alright, pretty boy, let's get you back to bed, hm?" Derek laughs, kissing Spencer. He closes the door behind him, reaching back to lock it, before pressing their lips together again. "Make you warm."
Spencer laughs into the kiss. "Such a gentleman."
A cry is heard of in the distance and they pull apart with a sigh. "Who's turn in it?" Derek asks.
"Can't remember."
Derek cocks an eyebrow. "You can't remember, hm?" Taking Spencer's hand in his, they both walk to where Hank is crying in his crib. "You can't play that card with me, sweetness."
"I tried," Spencer shrugs, watching Derek pick up their son and begin to rock him. He leans forward and presses a kiss to Hank's head. "It was my turn, by the way."
"I figured."
#moreid#derek morgan#spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds drabble#moreid drabble#I can't tell if this cute or not LMAO it's 6am i need to go sleep again
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no big deal (i love you)
moreid hanahaki wip based on this post
⚠️Content Warnings: emetophobia (coughing & throwing up flower petals), spencer's addiction & drug use
The first petals are white.
Small and delicate, white daisy petals crawl up his throat and decorate the pristine porcelain of his sink in the morning, not yet full or bloody, new enough to remain untainted by the torn tissue of his lungs.
Daisies, innocent and loyal love, holding his tongue, root in his chest, threatening to suffocate him if he leaves his feelings to grow, but the flowers don’t lie.
Call it innocence or naivety; Spencer won’t tell. He’ll hold his breath until he runs out of air, longing blooming like weeds, feeding on his life until only the flowers and a corpse remain.
At first, it’s slow, coming and going like the tide, feelings ebbing and waning with uncertainty.
He buries himself in books on the disease—hanahaki, hana (flower), haki (to throw up), a sickness that ails people who suffer from one-sided love, taking weeks to years to develop fully—and flower language, reading what every petal means about the longing ache in his ribs and how to cure it.
He goes to work—it isn’t bad enough to affect his performance—he profiles, coughs up petals, takes down unsubs, spits up his innocence, and flies home.
His case is slow; months pass before single petals turn into two or three and longer until the dull itch in his chest grows into a light ache when he exerts himself, his lungs reflecting his gradual, timid love.
The flowers change in Georgia.
The daisies stop coming, the drugs numbing his mind and body—his heart—concealing his love deep in his chest, buried where Charles Hankel and Raphael can’t reach.
They return in full bloom when Tobias revives him.
Spencer hacks up entire flowers on the cabin floor, belladonna, butterfly weed, cyclamen, and blood splattering against the ground, and even in its state, a part of his drug-and-death-addled brain recognizes the buds.
Silence, letting go, and goodbyes; flowers from the beginning of his gardener’s almanac burn like the fish hearts and livers in his soul as Tobias Hankel hauls him back from the dead.
He isn’t sure if the team sees the splashes of color, overfilling adoration through the camera, focused on sending a message, desperate to get out before he can cough up more symbols of regret, spilling his secret to his coworkers and friends– his family.
He argues when Hotch climbs into the ambulance beside him, feeling more flowers clawing at his throat, but the older agent wins, remaining by his side as the EMTs check his vitals, staying silent, even when the blooms come.
Bittersweet nightshade (truth) spills from his lips by the bushel, spurring one set of hands to hold a bag by the heaving agent’s chin to catch the fragile foliage, the others asking him a barrage of questions he doesn’t hear over his painful wrenches.
Hotch keeps the rest of the team out of his room at the hospital, telling them Spencer isn’t up for visitors as he chokes on pink camellias (longing), never bringing it up until the young brunette gets discharged less than 24 hours later.
He drives his agent home, offering to help him to his apartment, which Spencer refuses before the two linger in the car outside the building for a few seconds of petal-like, fragile silence.
“We’ll talk when you return,” He finally speaks, watching the younger brunette shift and fidget anxiously, clearing his throat and coughing into his elbow. “Take care of yourself; we’re only a call away.”
Spencer nods, silky petals and the taste of iron sitting on his tongue, and disappears into his lonely home.
The flowers stop while he’s on leave, too high for their stems to reach, losing time on the bathroom floor, buds withering with the body they’re feeding on.
The dilaudid numbs the fire in his chest—in his lungs and heart—eating away at the tissue the roots of his love buried themselves in until he can’t feel the stems in his organs, pollen in his blood, petals rising in his throat, and swallowed like his words, burning in his stomach.
“I love you” doesn’t linger on his tongue, waiting to spill past his lips with white chrysanthemums for truth, an admission after over a year of obstructed breathing, and when he’s high, he can almost convince himself that his garden died with Spencer Reid in the cabin in Georgia, at rest in the grave he dug with bouquets of daisies, of belladonna, butterfly weed, and cyclamen, nightshade, and camellias on the fresh mound of upturned soil.
Spencer tries to get sober before he returns to work, but there isn’t enough fertilizer—enough of his body, his dying cells—to sustain all the flowers he regurgitates in those 48 hours of trembling and heaving, purple hyacinths for sorrow and marigolds for grief; blood and bulbs litter his bathroom floor until he can’t breathe, darkness swimming in his vision, and the shell of Spencer Reid, a glass vase with everything on display, succumbs to his cravings, losing himself in oblivion.
He sits in Hotch’s office, pinprick pupils, and tells his boss the flowers and his feelings are gone, that it was the stress that made them bloom, not his genuine, heart-wrenching adoration for his best friend squeezing his organs like a sponge for every ounce of love, threatening to bleed him dry.
Spencer returns to work, profiling people who have experienced everything he’s gone through—enough trauma to break the human psyche—because he can think clearly for the first time in over a year, flowers and genius dying together as poison courses through them.
“I’m struggling.”
Despite everything—his team telling him they have his back, that they’re there for him, that they’re profilers, and Spencer is too high to hide his habit most of the time—Emily is the only one to call him out.
“Reid.” She approaches him after New Orleans, trained eyes seeing through him.
“Look, Prentiss, I’m sorry for snapping at you, but I’m not in the mood–”
“I’m getting waffles and milkshakes. Come with me.” It isn’t a question or an invitation as the older agent steps into the elevator, turning around expectantly, her gaze practically daring Spencer to run as carefully neutral eyes observe him.
He follows Prentiss with a heavy huff, shoulders sagging, his body too exhausted to fight, a familiar itch building in his throat as the doors close.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid fanfiction#angst#moreid#derek morgan#emily prentiss#hanahaki#hanahaki disease#hanahaki au#hanahaki fic#drabble#writing wip#writers on tumblr#writing#spencer reid fic#shortmc
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I’m back at it again with my nonsense. If you feel up to it can you do Spencer/Derek lee Spencer with 51 or 6 please?
prompt list!!
6. “are you…? oh my god. you are.” / 51. “i’m not going to be taken down by something as childish as tickling.”
It all starts when Spencer, observant as ever, catches Derek flinching away from a scratch of Penelope's nails against his neck. Penelope barely notices, the movement so miniscule, but Spencer feels a delightful sense of mischief wash over him in that moment.
The next time he's got him alone, Spencer has to try it for himself. Everyone has left for the evening, even Hotch, leaving the bullpen empty except for the two of them.
Derek is mid-sentence, complaining about paperwork when Spencer reaches over the desk and prods two fingers into his side, and Derek's words cut off in a strangled sort of sound, not quite a laugh, but a reaction nevertheless.
"Are you...?" Spencer starts.
"Don't even think about it," Derek replies, giving the genius a warning look.
"Oh my god. You are. This is great," Spencer says, grinning. "Big, tough Agent Morgan is ticklish."
Derek sighs. "What's so great about it? Everyone is."
"Well, actually, most people are—"
"Is there anything you don't know?" Derek interrupts him.
"Well, until a minute ago, I didn't know that you're ticklish," Spencer replies, a smugness in his voice. "Now I know your weakness."
With an amused huff, Derek shakes his head. "Sorry, pretty boy. I'm not gonna be taken down by something as childish as tickling."
"Wanna bet?" Spencer asks, and before Derek can reply, he's already bringing his fingers back towards him.
He doesn't get far. Derek's hands grab ahold of his wrists, stopping his attack before it even starts, and suddenly, Spencer is regretting his cocky attitude. Because even if Derek won't be "taken down" by tickling, Spencer knows that he sure will be.
When Emily returns to the office a moment later, having forgotten her car keys, she walks in on Spencer shrieking with laughter while Derek holds his hands above his head with one hand, the other squeezing at his hip.
Derek notices her presence and offers her a casual smile, as if there's nothing odd about the situation.
"I'm not even gonna ask," she replies, shaking her head fondly. She walks right past them to grab the keys from her desk, then starts to leave the bullpen once again.
"Emily, hehelp!" Spencer cries.
"Sorry, I've gotta get home. Sergio misses me," she replies, offering him a look of fake sympathy over her shoulder. Of course, her cat probably couldn't give less of a fuck that she's not home, but all she knows is she's not getting involved in their ridiculousness.
As Derek's fingers climb higher, tweaking at his lowest rib, Spencer wails and kicks his legs, having been abandoned by his only hope of mercy.
Needless to say, no paperwork gets done that night.
#ok i started writing this and then realized the ask said lee!spencer so it's now them both switching sorry bout that anon lol#moreid#cm drabble#raspberry drabbles
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"Spencer, what did you do?"
TW Drug use, overdose but no MCD
"Spencer, what did you do?" Spencer heard from the doorway, barely conscious.
What did I do? Where even am I? A bathroom? How did I get here? I thought I was at work. Spencer thought to himself, struggling to keep his eyes open but it didn’t matter either way, his vision was too blurry to make sense of anything around him. He heard yelled though. A lot of yelling.
“Emily! Get Hotch! Someone call 911! Damn it! Kid stay with me, okay?”
Morgan? Is that Morgan? Why would someone need to call 911? Spencer felt someone roll him over on the cold tile floor. He hadn’t even realized he was on the floor until then.
“Spencer, talk to me kid. Come on, keep your eyes open,” Morgan said as he moved Spencer around.
Spencer felt Morgan touch his arm, an odd feeling – like someone removing an IV, and a release of pressure around his upper arm. Oh yeah… I came to the bathroom to get high… Spencer thought as he vaguely saw Morgan cap the needle he had used and set it to the side. I took less than normal… How… Am I overdosing? Spencer thought before his world faded out again.
“Morgan, what happened?” Hotch asked as he rushed into the bathroom, already moving to kneel by Spencer, checking his pulse.
“I don’t know, I don’t know. I saw Reid go to the bathroom like 10 minutes ago, so I came in here to check on him and he was on the floor with a needle sticking out of his arm. Is he going to be okay?” Morgan asked in a panic.
“Reid, Reid! Can you hear me?” Hotch asked, shaking Spencer some. “Prentiss is on the phone with 911. He isn’t answering but he still has a pulse.”
Spencer started to hear people talk around him and he started to come to again, “What…” he mumbled out as he tried to understand what was happening again.
Morgan let out a sigh of relief when Spencer said something, “Just keep your eyes open okay, Reid? Help is on the way.”
Hotch could see the dazed confusion on Spencer’s face, “Reid, you are in the bullpen’s restroom. You overdosed. Can you tell me what you took?”
Overdosed… Heroin… It must have been laced with something else… Spencer thought, taking a second to realize he never said anything. “Her… heroin.” Spencer forced out.
“It might have been laced with fentanyl,” Hotch said, having come to the same conclusion but Morgan’s mind was somewhere else. He had no idea Spencer was using, but it seemed like Hotch knew to some degree, so this had to have been happening for some time.
“ ‘m sorry…” Spencer slurred out and Morgan took a hold of his hand while Hotch moved a strand of hair out of his face.
“We will make sure nothing like this ever happens again.”
--
I'm a slow writer but feel free to drop me a 5 sentence ask or a prompt in my ask box 🖤 Btw, I don't always go in order.
#Thank you Maya!#maze's drabbles#drabble#criminal minds fanart#criminal minds#spencer reid#derek morgan#aaron hotchner#could be seen as#hotchreid#moreid#or horreid#or none#up to you#drug addict spencer#more than 5 sentences#1mechanicalalligator ask#i didn't proofread this#I feel like I'm missing a tag
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“Whumpee,” the man said through a smile, “I was wondering how long it would take for you to resurface.” The man had barely implied anything, and yet he must have seen the sheer terror that was mirrored on his face when his name was said. As Whumper took two strides across the room so that he could see Whumpee clearly, the young man let out a small gasp of hair as he pressed himself further to the wall. The rusted metal cuff that dug into his skin clinked against the attached chain which connected him to the wall, startling Whumpee further until he was a shaking mess. “Don’t you worry, Whumpee,” Whumper murmured, “I just have a favour to ask of you.”
#captive whump#creepy whumper#whump prompts#whump blog#drugged whumpee#whump writing#whump drabble#inspired by a moreid fanfic I’m working on#whumpee spencer reid#caretaker x whumpee#kidnapped whumpee#scared whumpee
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seatbelt (spencer/derek) - 100 ways to say i love you
2. "put your seatbelt on"
"put your seatbelt on." derek says, glancing over at him critically, and spencer rolls his eyes, but complies.
"you know, for all of your nagging at me to wear these things, you're an awfully bad driver." spencer counters, tapping his finger once against the seat as his seatbelt clicks.
"oh, shut up." he mutters and spencer chuckles, "i do because i'm a bad driver."
i want you to be safe, i don't want you getting hurt, he doesn't say, but the corners of spencer's eyes soften, so maybe he knows.
"be a better driver," is what he counters with, and derek rolls his eyes, copying him in a bad impression under his breath.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#derek morgan#criminal minds oneshot#criminal minds: writing#criminal minds drabble#100 things i love about you#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fic#emily prentiss#aaron hotchner#david rossi#jennifer jareau#jason gideon#aaron hotch hotchner#elle greenaway#moreid#moreid fanfiction#tara lewis#luke alvez#matthew simmons#matt simmons#penelope garcia
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Super shitty drabble I made about Spencer’s addiction to get rid of my writers block ‼️
…
“Please, please Derek!” Spencer said looking up at Derek, although Derek didn’t meet his eyes. He couldn't. “Man, you don’t know what you're doing to me, I need it! Derek, please, I fucking need it, man!” Spencer rested his head against his co-worker's knee, snot, tears, and saliva soaking into his jeans.
Derek glanced down at the sobbing mess of a man, he scoffed and rolled his eyes. He shook his leg lightly in an attempt to shake Spencer off of him.
“Spencer, get off of me. This is pathetic and you know it.” Spencer stumbled backwards, holding himself up with his hands. “This isn’t you man. You never swear, and you sure as hell don’t beg.” Derek ran a hand down his face.
Spencer switched his position to sit on his knees. He trembled uncontrollably and his tears still hadn't stopped. He reached a hand up to his elbow and began to itch with his index finger. His finger dug into the bruised skin making Spencer wince in pain. Isn’t that what he was after? Pain? All the drugs do is hurt. It hurts Derek, it hurts the rest of his friends, it hurts him. But Spencer needed it. He thought he did anyway.
“Derek…Please. I need it, you don't get it. Just- just one more dose, then I’ll quit, I promise.” Spencer whispered, his fingers still digging at his elbow. He could feel a wetness around his fingers, blood he assumed.
Derek scoffed again still looking down at Spencer. “You and I both know that’s not true. You won’t quit, you're an addict Spencer. Save your lies because I’m not going to buy them.” He watched as Spencer breathed so heavily it seemed as if he wasn’t getting any air at all.
Spencer took a final deep breath, he couldn’t think anymore, not without Dilaudid. He raised to his feet and looked Derek in the eyes. Spencer’s eyes were wide and his pupils were dilated. His face was red and hot heavy breaths escaped his lips. Derek took a step back from the younger, he was starting to worry. He had never seen Spencer so…out of it.
“F-fuck you, Derek!” Spencer began to shout, he was hesitant and stumbled over his words but that only made him angrier. “You don’t know shit! Seriously, calling me pathetic? Who do you think you are!? You’re in my house, taking my drugs, and for what!? Why are you doing this Derek? I was fine before you came here.” Spencer shouted and he wiped a hand across his face ridding it of sweat, snot, and tears. He kept eye contact with Derek, something that was also out of character for the doctor.
“Kid, I’m doing this because I care about you. No good friend is going to just let you do drugs.” Derek sighed, he watched as Spencer finally broke eye contact, his face softened, anger no longer present in his body language other than his visible balled fists, which Derek viewed as a minor threat.
There was a long moment of silence. The only sounds were sniffles and the birds that continued to sing outside Spencer’s window. Spencer took a deep breath in and then exhaled before speaking.
“I-” He started but stopped just as quickly before starting again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to see me this way, Derek. You’re right, I am pathetic.” Spencer laughed sadly.
“That’s not what I said.” Derek muttered.
“What?” Spencer’s small laughs died down and he raised his head to look at Derek.
“That’s not what I said. I never said you were pathetic, I said this is pathetic.” He said, making a gesture with his hands to imply the whole situation was pathetic.
“Oh. Okay then.” Spencer mumbled under his breath. His eyes were fixated on Derek's pocket, he could see the outline of the vials. He sighed and fidgeted with his hands. “Derek-” His sentence was cut short by Derek.
“Shut it, kid.” Derek wasn’t asking and Spencer knew that, although Derek didn’t sound as mean as he did earlier, he sounded tired. Spencer didn’t say another word.
Derek wrapped an arm around Spencer’s shoulder and led him to the bathroom. Spencer stood in the corner silently as Derek turned on the shower and ran warm water.
“Have a shower, you’ll feel more comfortable once you have.” Derek said as he slipped past Spencer out the door. Spencer nodded, even though Derek had already left the room. He would feel a bit better. His fingertips were bloody from his elbow, his hair was sticking to his forehead and neck from how much he had been sweating, and his ribs hurt from how harshly he was sobbing before.
#I only wrote the climax basically#I didnt write this as Moreid but feel free to read it as if I had#I didnt proof read this#criminal minds#spencer reid#cm#derek morgan#moried#mlm#writers on tumblr#writers block#drabble#oneshot#angst#sad spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#this is so bad#season 2 reid <3#early season spencer reid#dilaudid#spencer reid is an addict#tobias hankel
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4x24. and he'll stay with Spencer, you see?
This breaks my heart. The trauma that case gave him. :(
The answer is obviously yes?
Rossi smiled after this. <3
Derek is so obviously out of his head from worrying about Spencer. That's love.
I understand why Derek feels responsible for Spencer getting sick ("I should be there with him"), but he simply loves him. Not a single person from the team has been sitting by Spencer's bed, waiting for him to wake up. Only Derek did. They truly are best friends.
#natiswatching#cm#moreid#long post#idk how i almost finished s4 but it's nice. i like it.#they are also the only ship in this that gets me !!! (exclamation marks) excited#i still ship them and thinking about writing a drabble about them#something cute and healing#emily prentiss
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masterlist!
last updated: 03/08/23
request guidelines: here
Criminal Minds
Spencer Reid
fluff
sleepy
spencer reids doe eyes
lipstick kisses
after sex cuddles
housebusband!spence
touch averse reader kisses spence
looking at spence when he reads
alt!reader in a band
holding hands
bathing together
rich!reader fluff
kisses with spence
artsy gf!reader meets the team
listening to autistic!spence rambling
autistic!reader realises autistic!spencer is attracted to her
jealous spencer
reader telling spencer they love him for the first time
introducing spencer too beabadoobee
angst & angsty fluff
spence getting his hair cut after prison
traumatic event (reader kidnapped)
reader finds out about spencers addiction
reader breaks up with spencer over his relationship with jj
TW spencer seeing readers scars
TW reader seeing spencer’s scars
smut
edging spence with a vibe*
thigh kissing drabble*
round 1*
youre more than just a fling, my love*
i love your body baby (insecure spence)*
im bored, wanna play?*
we could.. do it*
sub!spence x rockstar!reader*
stop the teasing please..*
pegging spence for the first time*
i love it when you’re naughty like this*
i love your body baby (insecure reader)*
rich!reader buys spence an expensive gift*
making out with spence in his car
sub!spence giving oral*
overstimulating spence*
spence with a praise kink*
spence with a praise kink getting pegged*
dumbification with spence*
spencer watching you stretch*
sub!spence and tall!reader*
firearms qualification*
pegging needy spence*
drunk spence humping readers leg*
cant keep my hands to myself
whoever gets horny first loses
overstimulating sub!spence*
teasing sub!spence through his boxers*
sub!spence rutting against you but not going in*
sub!spence giving you a facial*
sub!spence in panties and a skirt*
drunk needy spence
spence’s sensitive nipples
spanking bratty spence
sub!spence & sub!reader
playing with spence while he’s having a wet dream
spencer pleasuring you
aftercare with sub!spence
sub!spence w premature ejac
tying spence up during a punishment
perfect princess
virgin!autistic!spence x virgin!autistic!reader
pretty princess spence
spence & reader sexual tension
aftercare hc’s for sub!spence
more skirt spence
trans!spence strap warming you
trans!spence squirting
cockwarming princess spence
sub!spence hc’s
princess sub!spence hc’s
trans!reid hc’s
slapping spence’s ass in a skirt
glasses reid
pt2 spanking spencer in a skirt
spencer finding out he has a mommy kink
TW body worship with self harming reader
eating trans!spence out on his period
getting eaten out on your period
Aaron Hotchner
pegging sub!hotch
Emily Prentiss
be patient.*
scared of storms
emily in lingerie
Elle Greenaway
elle with sub!fem!reader
Moreid & Moried x Reader
moreid phone sex
spence blowing morgan while u watch
B99
Amy Santiago
amy santiago x emily prentiss au
dancing with ames
#masterlist#spencer reid x reader#sub!spence#sub spencer reid#sub!spencer#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss#dom!emily prentiss#dom emily prentiss#amy santiago#amy santiago x reader#amy santiago x emily prentiss
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drabble request thing: hotchreid ←→ moreid breakup and get together (in either direction, with or without cheating etc writers choice, go nuts!)
I love how you saw my post and immediately went ‘I’m going to ruin this guy’s whole month.’ Tbh I’m so glad you did, I was made for writing horrible horrible things. (Yes this could have been a mutually decided breakup but where’s the fun in that, right?)
Okay, so… it’s not explicitly a breakup but it’s meant to be at least implied and what I immediately thought of for this prompt. Good boyfriend Morgan/Insecure Spencer/Shitty Hotch. Suffering time <3
Destroyer
Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Self-Sabotage, Cheating, Implied Drug Issues
* * * * * * * * * * *
Spencer loved Derek from the sharp angle of his jawline to the way he couldn’t help but cry at romcoms, adamant that he was just allergic to Clooney. He loved how tenderly they’d kiss, only to devolve into things that made him blush to even remember. He loved the way that he wouldn’t have to say a single word for Derek to know that he was struggling; he’d somehow always just know what was wrong, and would do everything in his power to fix it, or at least dull the ache.
Derek’s family was everything that he’d ever dreamed of, warm and close like a tightly knitted blanket. His sisters had immediately treated Spencer like one of them; his mother had taken him to the side to quietly compliment him on how good he was for her son.
They fitted together almost too well, and in all honesty, he didn’t think he deserved it. That sort of unconditional love was for people who could actually understand others, for people who knew how to return it properly. It was for people who didn’t think every day about using again and forgetting the world, consequences be damned.
Hotch, on the other hand, was nothing like Derek.
He was cold, impassive, and somehow the best fuck that Spencer had ever had.
#hotchreid#moreid#aaron hotchner#spencer reid#derek morgan#criminal minds fanfiction#write for me rat boy#my fic
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Random Ship Oneshots/Drabbles
Random Ship Oneshots/Drabbles
by Kit_S
This book is also posted over on wattpad, by myself.
This book will be just random ship oneshots! Requests are always open! Updates will be odd and rare but if there is a schedule it will likely be Tuesday every week and Thursday every other week.
¡¡Disclaimer!!:I do not own any of the characters unless stated otherwise in the chapter, and all rights reserved to to rightful owners.!!!!!
Some ships included:
•Byler
•ElMax
•Joyce/Hopper
•Dr.Alexei/Murray
•Steddie
•Harringrove
•HenRay
•TodoKami
•Aareid
•Moreid
•Tanjitsu
•Inoten
•Barney/Logs(If you know what this is from marriage is openly requested)
•Apollo/Hyacinthus
•Renkaza
•Veronica/JD
•Ram/Kurt
•Reddie
•BillDip
•Drarry
•Pansmione
•Ginny/Luna
•Hades/Persephone
•Zeus/Hera
•Rhea/Kronos
•+More and Requests!
-Please note that there are some things I won't write as I either have very little knowledge to the specific subject or ship or I am just not comfortable writing it. Most boundaries will be in the first A/N!
Thank you!
Words: 517, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English
Series: Part 1 of Oneshot Book Collections
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016), Criminal Minds (US TV), Hannibal (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, 鬼滅の刃 | Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba (Anime), Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe, Heathers (1988), IT (Movies - Muschietti), Gravity Falls, Henry Danger (TV), Dead End: Paranormal Park (Cartoon)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Categories: Multi
Characters: Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove, Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan (Criminal Minds), Aaron Hotchner, Eddie Munson, Alexei (Stranger Things), Apollo, Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Jason "J. D." Dean, The Heathers (Heathers), Veronica Sawyer, Levi Ackerman, Eren Yeager
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Agatsuma Zenitsu/Kamado Tanjirou, Levi Ackerman/Eren Yeager, Bill Cipher/Dipper Pines, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Alexei/Murray Bauman, Kurt Kelly/Ram Sweeney, Jason "J. D." Dean/Veronica Sawyer, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Apollo/Hyacinthus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Additional Tags: Neil Hargrove's A+ Parenting, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, no beta we die like Alexei, Iwouldaddallthecharactersandfandomsbutimlazy, Gay, LGBTQ, Fluff, Smut, established relationships - Freeform, Iwouldaddmoretagsbutimlazytbh
From https://ift.tt/AhTgdEM
https://archiveofourown.org/works/40408176
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Upcoming Fics?
So, I still need to write my BTHB fics for this year. I've got several to write, haven't had time to do so yet. Gonna try to get crackin on 2 or 3 of those fics tonight, hopefully, or at least tomorrow night, since it will be the weekend.
#poll#Chicago Fire#Chicago Med#NCIS: Los Angeles#Chicago PD#Rookie Blue#Criminal Minds#Law & Order: SVU#S.W.A.T.#NCIS#FBI
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cry for help, i am not joking (wip)
moreid angst
⚠️CONTENT WARNINGS: nsfw (not graphic), drug use, self harm, suicide attempts, overdosing, spencer & derek's canon trauma, unhealthy relationships & coping mechanisms, hospitals, internalized homophobia, disordered eating⚠️
(please let me know if i missed anything)
a brain dump where spencer and derek start fucking after georgia, leeching off of each other and spiraling
The first time it happens is after Georgia, Tobias and Charles Hankel, and Raphael, after Spencer stares down the barrel of a gun and refuses to choose one of his teammates.
The first time it happens, Spencer’s high, pupils pinpricks, reactions delayed, and Derek pretends he doesn’t notice.
They’re both acting, weaving their bodies together, turning blind eyes to the scar tissue against exposed skin, long, vertical lines down the younger brunette’s back, surgery scars from a life of self-sacrificing recklessness tearing into the older’s skin, more lines from when they stopped teetering on the edge of life and death, imagining a strong push either way, letting themselves fall— Spencer when he was ten, twelve, fifteen, eighteen and Derek when he was thirteen, fifteen, sixteen, eighteen— relishing in glimpses of free fall, flying until the same hands that hurt them hauled them back.
They’re both performing, pressing messy kisses against lips, collarbones, spines, and thighs, dancing for the audience, watching their lives unfold, unraveling and undoing years of progress in one night, wearing masks, of feeling something and nothing.
Derek pretends he can’t count Spencer’s ribs, can’t feel his hips jutting out, and wrap his hands around his company’s limbs, fingertips touching; he pretends he can’t connect the dots in the crooks of Spencer’s elbows— both, because the genius is ambidextrous— like constellations, solar systems of undoing, bruises exploding from the stars, life imploding like supernovae.
Spencer pretends he doesn’t see the bruises covering Derek’s knuckles, ribs, shoulders, and back from taking his anger out on punching backs, walls, and unsubs, from getting into fights— boxing, MMA, on the streets, imagining he’s thirteen again, stooping down to every expectation of him. He ignores the long, grasping scratches against Derek’s back from the faceless girls he takes home, reminding himself who he’s supposed to love.
They don’t talk— that night or the days following— but they fuck.
They collide in bathrooms, closets, empty offices, and conference rooms halfway across the country, matching the number marks they make on each other with the ones they make on themselves.
They fuck in hotels after Spencer shoots up in the bathroom with the door, ignoring how the younger brunette is too high out of his mind to do much besides lay there and how Derek slows to check his pulse, making sure he’s still alive before continuing.
Spencer learns how to do his makeup, painting over bruises, bite marks, and hickeys from nights they’re both too lost, dissociating, high, drunk, manic, depressed, whatever it is that night to prevent, going through the motions until they fall asleep tangled, too exhausted for nightmares.
Spencer breaks it off first, trying to get sober, and the first to come crawling back in the throes of withdrawal, sweating and shaking, blood spilling from where his nails gouged into his crawling skin.
They fuck until he can’t think about the drugs, about Tobias, Charles, Raphael, Georgia, his parents, anything, replacing one addiction with another, clawing at Derek’s skin until he spills blood and the older man can breathe again, relishing in the clarity the pain brings.
They fuck until he can’t think about Buford, his dad, the boys that waited around corners and after school to beat him up until his blood isn’t his, but another unsub’s, flowing under thundering fists until the world calls him a hero, not murderer, victim, weak, helpless, or a plethora of slurs that seep through his skin, latching onto his aching heart and burning lungs.
In the morning, they fuck, get dressed, drink coffee, and drive to work.
Spencer’s things, clothes from his go-bags, mugs, books, and trinkets spread through Derek’s house, the time between trips to his cold, dark apartment growing until he stops, spending time between work and breaking down in the guest bathroom, guest bedroom, kitchen, living room, Derek’s room, Derek’s bedroom, everywhere in their house fucking or destroying himself instead of clinging to the act of okay-ness he put on for two decades.
They alternate bad days because there isn’t enough blood to spill, enough bandages for both of them in one night, oxygen to relieve their burning lungs, falling into a routine of panic attacks and nightmares, breaking down, cleaning blood from the crevices between tiles in the bathroom until they agree to restrict their self-destruction to the bathtub because they’re running out of towels.
They become each other’s emergency contacts when Derek carries Spencer into the ER after finding him in a pool of vomit, an empty bottle of dilaudid in his limp hands, too scared of being alone to give the younger man the escape they crave.
They give the doctors fake names, tell them it was an accident, and it doesn’t take profilers to know they don’t believe them, but the nurses don’t push.
They walk into work the following morning— the younger brunette still unsteady on his feet, thoughts hazy, while Derek covers for him until Hotch tells them to go home.
Spencer drives them to a different hospital a week later when he finds Derek on the floor, coughing up blood as more thick crimson flows from his arms.
They lie to doctors, leave before they can ask too many questions, and Spencer rides the older brunette because he’s too tired for anything else, making sure to roll off Derek’s cracked ribs before passing out.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds fic#derek morgan#angst#spencer reid fanfiction#moreid#moreid fic#derek morgan fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS#wip#drabble#i am sleep deprived#derek morgan fic#moreid fanfiction#shortmc
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Moreid Drabble
Prompt: something angsty with embarrassed!spencer, for @casparwrites
Word Count: 1.2k
Masterlist
Spencer knows this isn't going to go well for him the minute Emily opens her mouth.
She'd invited them round to hers for dinner and drinks after work, and although Hotch and Rossi had been invited, they'd both declined the invitation, likely in anticipation of exactly what had happened: wine turning to shots, and pleasant conversation devolving quickly into gossip.
Spencer hadn't minded at all at first. She'd ordered in from a Thai restaurant he happened to love, and sitting round in a comfortable, spacious living room chatting with his best friends is hardly a regrettable situation to find yourself in. So he allowed himself to relax, drinking almost as much as everyone else and joining in with all the conversation around him.
Besides, the red flush on his cheeks from the wine meant he could stare at Derek a little more overtly and not risk having his blush immediately clue everyone into the crippling crush he has on his colleague.
But then Emily suggests playing Never Have I Ever. In Spencer's experience, both drinking games and party games never go well for him, and he has no reason to believe this will be any different.
That's not true, he tells himself sternly as Emily and Penelope start mixing the cocktails. Parties at Caltech and MIT were a world away from a small gathering of five people who love and accept him for exactly who he is. This will be fine. Everything will be absolutely fine.
And for a couple rounds, it is. They laugh at the drunken escapades the game allows them to relive — they all know far too much about one another for the game to really reveal any new information in that regard — and Spencer learns far too much about his coworkers' sex lives.
(He also learns that Derek has slept with a man. Interesting.)
No one's really surprised when Spencer doesn't put his finger down for any of the wild sex-related Never Have I Ever statements that the others come up with, because everyone knows that while they may have had their late teens and early twenties to let loose and party at college, Spencer certainly didn't. Nobody says anything, but he can feel Derek's eyes on him, and he's trying really hard not to blush.
They play happily for quite a while before it happens, and Spencer's settled into a certain kind of comfort, he's been lulled into a false sense of security, because it hits him like a truck when it happens.
"Never have I ever kissed someone," Derek says boldly; loudly, shutting down the quiet chatter and giggles from around the circle until all that's left is the 90s Hits CD they'd put in playing in the background.
The thing is, he's looking right at Spencer. In fact, everybody's looking right at Spencer, and all of a sudden there's blood pounding in his ears and his face is burning a red so fierce he knows there's no way to play this one off, because Derek's suspicion is right, dammit.
He's dizzy with the humiliation, sick with the fact that even this — this family he's found, these friendships he's built — even this isn't safe, and is he ever going to actually be able to feel that safety and allow himself to enjoy it? Will he always be waiting for the other shoe to drop? Is he simply destined for these soul-sucking moments of utter embarrassment and humiliation and anger and sadness to happen wherever he goes? Is he that unlikeable, that unloveable, that everybody, even kind and compassionate people like Derek Morgan, has the urge to humiliate him?
Before he knows what he's doing, he's stumbling to his feet and running down the hall to the bathroom barricading himself inside before he can have a panic attack in front of his friends team. The wine that just moments ago felt pleasant in its gentle buzz in his bloodstream suddenly feels sick and heavy at the bottom of his stomach and he breathes in deeply to calm himself down.
His head is spinning and he's trying not to cry, and all he wants is to disappear because he's gonna have to face them again, there's no way to get out of the house without them seeing, oh God, they're gonna—
Before his thoughts can spiral any deeper, there's a heavy knock at the door, and Derek's deep voice is pleading with him through the painted wood.
"Pretty boy? Can you open the door for me?" he asks, and Spencer can hear the desperation and urgency in his voice. "I'm so sorry, kid, I'm so sorry. Listen, I know you're in there, just let me in, okay? I just wanna apologise."
Spencer takes another couple of deep breaths, trying to still the spinning bathroom in his vision before facing Derek again. Eventually, after a couple of minutes of deep breathing and Derek's intermittent pleas, he manages to bring himself to open the door, revealing his pitiful friend in front of him.
"Pretty boy, listen, I really am so sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, and I shouldn't have said what I said," Derek says, gazing imploringly into Spencer's eyes. "I was just curious but I went about it in the wrong way and ended up embarrassing you, and that's the last thing I meant to do, you have to believe me—"
Spencer isn't sure what compels him to do it, but Derek is rambling and Spencer is staring at his mouth and the pretty shapes it makes when he talks, and before he knows it, he's surging forward and pressing his lips against Derek's mid-sentence.
It's so brief and chaste he doesn't give Derek any time to react, because he's quickly pulling away as horror fills him, his blood turning cold. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I can't believe I did that! I don't know—"
He doesn't get any further in his apology, because Derek's leaning back in, slower this time, more deliberately, and kissing him again, taking his jaw in one hand and his waist in the other as Spencer's hands come up to rest on Derek's strong chest. He's being kissed like this is the last time Derek will ever get the chance, like the sun won't rise in the morning and this is the only time their lips will ever be pressed together like this, and it's dizzying, this time in a good way.
When they finally pull apart, Derek looks desperate and serious as his eyes flick between meeting each of Spencer's, and he can't stand him looking or feeling like that any longer, so he says it. He admits the feelings he's had for Derek since he first met him.
"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do that."
Derek melts in relief as a big smile works its way onto the lips Spencer just kissed. "Thank God, pretty boy, because I reckon I've been waiting even longer."
Somehow, Spencer doubts that, but he smiles anyway and leans in for another kiss because right now all he wants to think about is how the first person to ever kiss him was Derek Morgan, and how he never wants anybody else to ever do the same.
There'll be time for playful bickering in the morning. There'll be time for a lot of things come morning, and Spencer just can't wait to see what it'll hold.
taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @lesbiantodds @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @enbyspencer @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @hotchscotchh @marsjareau @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @ropoto @thosecriminalminds @wifeyprentiss @cmily @love-pyramus @notevanbuckley (add yourself to my taglist)
#caspar#mutuals#maja celebrates 1k#moreid#derek morgan#spencer reid#moreid drabble#moreid fluff#moreid fic#derek morgan/spencer reid#derek morgan x spencer reid#criminal minds#cm
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"Garcia, I appreciate it, but I don't need a 10 Ways To Woo A Genius PowerPoint."
"Garcia, I appreciate it, but I don't need a 10 Ways To Woo A Genius PowerPoint." Spencer said with a sigh, leaning further into Garcia’s office sofa.
“Not for you, for him! We just need to find a way to show it to him.” Garcia said, pulling up PowerPoint on her computer.
“We don’t even know if Morgan likes me, let alone if he is even trying to Woo me.”
Garcia spun around in her chair, “Really? I thought you were a genius,” Garcia said with a smirk.
“Yes, really,” Spencer said playfully narrowing his eyes at Garcia, “I have liked him since I joined the BAU, just because we have been hanging out more doesn’t mean he likes me back.”
Garcia spun back around to face her computer and started typing while reading what she was typing out loud, “Number one, be to the point and straight forward with the genius. He won’t be able to see how your flirting is anything more than friendly.”
Spencer froze, “Wait, flirting? Morgan has never flirted with me.”
Garcia turned her chair slightly to look over at Spencer, dumbfounded, “Pumpkin… He calls you Pretty Boy.”
“And he calls you Baby Girl! That doesn’t mean anything,” Spencer shot back.
“Have you heard Derek call other women pet names before?” Garcia asked and Spencer thought for a moment. He had a lot actually. Morgan often calls women names like sweetheart or gorgeous. He has even called Prentiss ‘princess’ before, so Spencer nodded his head yes.
“Okay, and have you ever heard him call another man a pet name like he does with you?” The thought almost made Spencer laugh. If he called Hotch ‘hot stuff’ or Rossi ‘silver fox’, that would be ridiculous but for some reason when Morgan called Spencer pretty boy, it just felt right. Spencer shook his head no after a moment and Garcia said, “Yeah, because he is only flirting with you when he does it.”
“No… But…” Spencer takes a moment to think about how Morgan acts with him. How he is always touching him, hugging him, bringing him coffees or snacks, asking to hang out, calling him pretty…. And it hits him. “Oh my God… He is flirting with me.”
Garcia turns to face her computer again and backspaced through what she had just typed out, I should have made this list 10 Tips To Help A Genius Figure Out When He Is Being Flirted With. Garcia said with a laugh.
“Instead can you make a list called 10 Tips To Help A Genius Ask Out The Flirter. I think I’ll need some help with that.” Spencer said with a shy but determined smile.
--
I'm a slow writer but feel free to drop me a 5 sentence ask or a prompt in my ask box 🖤 Btw, I don't always go in order.
#Ily Mer thank youu#maze's drabbles#drabble#more than 5 sentences#criminal minds#spencer reid#moreid#penelope garcia#derek morgan#ask#merpancake ask
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Moreid Drabble
Prompt (requested by @fuckshitupm8-deactivated3728 ): “you’re such a dork”
Derek woke up alone. He furrowed his eyebrows, unsure of where Spencer could be on a Saturday morning. It being their first day off in a while, he fully expected to wake up before the other man. He pulled himself out of bed and stretched before pulling on a t-shirt. Heading into the kitchen, Derek wondered what his boyfriend could possibly be doing.
The sight that greeted him made his jaw drop. In the living room, stood in front of him were his two best friends dressed completely ridiculously.
Now he remembered why Spencer was up. He and Penelope had been raving about some sci-fi convention, and Derek forgot it was today. She wore a cylindrical red hat while Spence wore a cowboy-type hat with a colorful scarf. They also both had on blazers, but the boy wore a full three-piece suit. It was quite the sight to see at 9 am on a Saturday.
“Well good morning, my prince,” Penelope saw him first, planting a kiss on his cheek.
“Good morning, you two. What do we have here?”
“I’m the fourth doctor and she’s the eleventh,” Spence smiled. When Derek looked even more confused than before, he continued, “From Doctor Who.”
“Very cool,” Derek chuckled.
Penelope smiled, “You better believe it. We spent forever getting these costumes ready. And we won’t get to show them off if we don’t get there on time,” she looked to Spence, before walking towards the door, “Onward!”
“I’ll catch up with you in a second, Penelope.”
She nodded and left the house to wait in the car.
“I’ve gotta admit, I don’t get this stuff at all, but you look great in this suit,” Derek held his boyfriend’s cheek, pulling him in for a soft kiss.
“How about the scarf? I’ve been knitting it for weeks.”
“I know, I bought the yarn.”
“Thank you,” Spence smiled, “Knitting’s much harder than I expected, but I had to do it myself. Nowhere else had an accurate depiction of his scarf, and since I went all out for the suit I had to do the same for the rest of the cosplay, if only to do Tom Baker’s doctor justice.”
Derek laughed, “You’re such a dork. But I love you for it.”
“I love you too,” Spencer pulled him into another kiss. Derek adjusted his boyfriend’s scarf for a moment, before Garcia honked the car horn with urgency to leave. “I guess that’s my queue.”
“Seems like it. Have fun,” the other man smiled.
“I will,” Spencer beamed, heading out the door to join Penelope.
#I did not and will not proofread this#so. praying its fine#maggie tag !! 💗#drabble#moreid#moreid drabble#criminal minds#criminal minds drabble#Spencer reid#Derek morgan#400 followers !!!!!!!
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