#If you don't like what they gave us maybe you just don't like the thing. Sorry!

[reidmarieprentiss]

Red: Part Two

Summary: Spencer is very happy with you, his new girlfriend. You two are experiencing firsts together, making each other happy as can be. But, secrets tend to unravel when you try to keep them from your loved ones. Your past haunts you everyday, Spencer knows that, and yet, he does nothing to let you into his. Falling in love is not for the weak. Neither is being forced out of it.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, fluff, smut (18+)

Warnings/Includes: heartbreak, angst, talks of drug use, talks of overdose, past death of parents, sister is an addict, keeping secrets, so much angst, smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, Spencer's past addiction, drug tests, protective Erin Strauss, weed, alcohol, no happy ending

Word count: 28.9k

a/n: soooo fucking sorry for this one ://// it was never going to have a happy ending ... tbh if you don't want to cry maybe just stick to the first part !! — unedited NEVER be afraid to call me out!!

can't lie i put so many projects on hold just to write this beast -- i worked on it EVERY day

main masterlist

Additional warnings: oral (f & m), grinding, finishing in pants (m), fingering (f), protected PinV

The entire jet was filled with a quiet buzz of curiosity as everyone watched Spencer, who was completely absorbed in his phone, a rare, soft smile playing on his lips. His eyes rolled over the screen, scanning a picture he took of you with a level of care that had the whole team captivated.

JJ finally broke the silence. “Okay, Reid,” she said with an amused grin, leaning forward in her seat. “Tell us what’s going on, or I’m taking your phone.”

Spencer’s head snapped up, startled by the sudden attention. His cheeks flushed pink as he realized the entire team had been watching him, all waiting for an explanation. He fumbled with the phone, quickly pocketing it as if trying to hide something, but the grin on his face gave him away. 

"Uh, it’s nothing," Spencer mumbled, clearly flustered, but the team wasn’t buying it for a second.

Morgan smirked, leaning back in his seat. "Oh, come on, Pretty Boy. This has gone on long enough. Spill."

JJ raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing glance with Prentiss. "We’ve all seen that look before, Reid."

Spencer sighed. "It’s… it’s someone I’ve been seeing," he admitted sheepishly, his eyes flicking down to his phone for a moment before looking back at the team.

The jet erupted with teasing laughter and questions, all of them delighted by the revelation.

“Well, Reid, you have to introduce us!” Emily chimed in, a playful grin spreading across her face.

“Yeah, Pretty Boy," Derek added with a teasing smirk. "When can we meet the missus?”

Spencer, for once, didn’t shy away from the idea. In fact, he felt a spark of excitement at the thought of introducing you to the team. He was proud that you were his girlfriend, and the idea of his closest friends meeting you didn’t fill him with the usual nerves. But there was one thing Spencer couldn’t deny—he knew the moment they saw the way he looked at you, they’d instantly know how deeply in love he was. 

And as much as he was ready for the team to meet you, that kind of vulnerability scared him just a little. 

He smiled softly, trying to play it cool. "I’m sure you’ll meet her soon enough," he said, but inside, he was already thinking about how perfect it would be to bring you into his world.

—

“Y/N, darling,” Spencer mused with a soft smile, his eyes twinkling as he watched you across the dinner table. The warmth in his voice instantly caught your attention.

You giggled, squeezing his hand as it rested on the table, your thumb brushing against his skin. “Yes, dear?”

Spencer hesitated only for a second, his tone still light but a little more serious now. “Would you like to meet my friends?”

You paused, your heart skipping a beat at the question. A slight anxiety began to crawl up your throat, and you cleared it, trying to sound casual. “Your—um, your work friends?” you asked, though the weight of the moment hung between you.

Spencer nodded, his eyes soft and understanding, as if he could already sense your nerves. "Yeah," he said, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand reassuringly. "The team. They’ve been dying to meet you."

You swallowed, feeling the weight of the moment settle in. The thought of meeting Spencer’s team made your heart race—not just because they were profilers, but because Rossi would likely recognize you. Maybe even Hotch. It had been years since either of them had seen you, but the possibility hung in the air. You weren’t sure if they’d bring it up, and you certainly weren’t ready to share that part of your life with Spencer. Not yet.

But then, you looked into Spencer’s eyes. The genuine excitement and pride he held for you was undeniable. It was clear he wanted this—wanted you to meet the people who were like family to him. The idea of disappointing him tugged at you, and despite the nerves gnawing at your chest, you couldn’t help but smile softly.

He reached across the table, gently squeezing your other hand too, offering comfort in that simple gesture. His eyes searched yours for a moment, as if sensing something in your hesitation but choosing to let it pass, trusting you to open up when you were ready.

The thought of Spencer’s trust in you helped calm some of the swirling anxiety. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to push aside the weight of your past for now.

You took a deep breath, forcing a small smile. "I’d love to meet them," you said, though you could still feel the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

Spencer’s smile widened, his eyes lighting up. “You’re going to love them,” he assured you, his voice full of warmth. “And they’re going to love you too."

Later that evening, Spencer’s fingers traced gentle circles along your back, his touch soothing as you lay against his chest, both of you perfectly relaxed. The quiet of the evening had settled around you, a comfortable silence, until Spencer broke it with a question that caught you off guard.

“Do you have a job?” he asked.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden bluntness of the question. “What?”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed as he quickly realized how it sounded. “I mean,” he corrected, his voice softer, “you never talk about work, and I—I’ve never seen you go to work. Do you work?”

You smiled, lifting your chin from his chest so you could look up at him, your gaze meeting his. “Yes, I have a job, Spencer.”

He looked down at you with his brows raised, making his chin tuck in a way that was so adorably endearing you had to fight the urge to kiss him right there. “Well, do tell, baby.”

The way he said "baby" sent a rush through you, making your heart skip and your core tighten. The new pet name caught you by surprise, and you could feel your pulse quicken. You wanted to answer his question, but something inside you hesitated. The job you had wasn’t something you brought up often, and certainly not something that most people would take lightly.

You bit your lip, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on Spencer's chest as you considered your answer. “What if you think differently of me?” you teased, giving him a playful look.

Spencer chuckled softly, catching onto your teasing tone. “Depends on how you answer,” he joked back, his eyes twinkling. “But no, I would never judge you.”

You sighed dramatically, feigning annoyance. “Okay… fine,” you said, pausing for effect. “I’m a cybersecurity analyst. I just work from home.”

Spencer's face lit up with curiosity. “A cybersecurity analyst? That’s amazing,” he said, his voice full of admiration. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You shrugged, still grinning at how smoothly it had gone. “It’s not that exciting,” you replied, feeling relieved that you could finally share a bit of your work with him. "I just stare at a screen all day."

Spencer shook his head, a genuine smile on his face. “I think it's fascinating. But I guess you're right, staring at a screen is definitely something I can relate to." His fingers resumed their gentle strokes along your back, his gaze warm.

“I didn’t mean to keep it a secret,” you said softly, your fingers still tracing patterns on his chest. “I just don’t have that much to talk about. I don’t interact with anyone all day long.”

Spencer smiled, his eyes full of understanding. “It’s okay, Red,” he said, stroking his finger gently down the bridge of your nose in a soothing gesture. “You know, my friend Penelope does something similar.”

“Really?” you perked up, excitement bubbling up at the thought of having something in common with someone in Spencer’s world. Your aunt had never mentioned anyone named Penelope before, but this new information intrigued you. “What does she do?”

“She’s a technical analyst for the BAU,” Spencer explained, a fondness creeping into his tone as he spoke about Penelope. “She handles all the tech and cyber stuff for us—tracking data, finding digital footprints, that sort of thing.”

Your eyes lit up at the mention of her role. “That sounds so cool! Maybe we could exchange tips,” you laughed, already imagining the kind of work Penelope must be involved in.

“I’m so glad you want to meet them,” Spencer said softly, his voice full of relief and excitement. He breathed deeply, the rise and fall of his chest gently lifting you with each inhale. His hand stroked your back, his thumb tracing lazy circles as he looked at you with warmth and affection. “You mean so much to me,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper, like he was letting you in on a secret. “I can’t wait to show you off.”

Your heart swelled at his words, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. Spencer, who was usually so careful with his emotions, was being completely vulnerable with you now. It made your connection feel even deeper, like you were sharing something truly special.

You smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly, your lips brushing his. “I can’t wait either,” you whispered against his mouth, feeling more at ease about meeting his team.

Spencer chuckled softly, shaking his head, still in disbelief at how elated he felt. The emotions swirling in his chest were too much to hold back, and before either of you could say another word, he closed the distance between you. His lips met yours in a deep, tender kiss, full of all the feelings he hadn’t yet put into words.

The kiss was different this time—more intense, more meaningful. You could feel the depth of Spencer's emotions through the way his hands gently cupped your face, the way he kissed you like he was afraid to ever let you go. It wasn’t just desire, but something deeper, something sweeter, like the connection between you both had finally settled into something undeniable.

Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the soft curls as you kissed him back just as deeply, wanting him to feel how much you cared too. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in each other.

When Spencer finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you catching your breath. His eyes fluttered open, and he gazed at you with such affection that your heart skipped a beat. "I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before," he admitted softly, his voice full of awe. 

You smiled, your thumb gently brushing against his cheek. "Me neither," you whispered back, and in that moment, everything felt right. 

—

Hotch stood across from Erin Strauss, her expression cold and unforgiving as she paced behind her desk. Her gaze was sharp, and Hotch could already tell where the conversation was headed. 

“I’ve reviewed Agent Reid’s file,” Strauss said abruptly, her voice laced with disdain. She stopped pacing and folded her arms. “His performance has been... inconsistent, to say the least. And given his past—” She let the sentence hang, as though expecting Hotch to fill in the blanks.

Hotch’s jaw tightened, but he kept his expression impassive. “Reid is one of the best agents I have. His mind is invaluable to this team.”

Strauss’s eyes narrowed, dismissing his defense with a wave of her hand. “That’s not enough to excuse what he’s been through. His history with drugs, Hotch. We can't ignore it.”

“He’s been clean for years,” Hotch stated firmly, his voice steady though his frustration was clear. “Reid has worked harder than anyone to get past that.”

Strauss leaned forward, her fingers tapping the desk. “I’m not here to argue his work ethic. I’m here because I’m questioning whether Agent Reid can continue to perform in the field without becoming a liability.”

Hotch felt a surge of anger but swallowed it back. “He hasn’t shown any signs of relapse.”

“Not yet,” Strauss shot back. “But the risk is always there. And we can’t afford risks like him, not in a unit as high profile as the BAU.”

Hotch crossed his arms, his posture firm. “He’s earned his place. Whatever you’re insinuating—”

“I’m not insinuating,” she cut him off, her voice icy. “I’m telling you how this is going to go. From now on, Reid will be subjected to mandatory drug tests. Monthly.” She emphasized the last word, her expression hard. “If there are any slip-ups, any signs of relapse, even the faintest suspicion, he’s out.”

Hotch’s gaze darkened. “That’s unnecessary.”

Strauss tapped her fingers impatiently on the desk, her icy demeanor unwavering as she continued to challenge Hotch. “You’re defending him again,” she said sharply, eyes narrowing. “Just like you always do. Every time Reid’s decision-making is called into question, it’s you who steps in to justify it. How many times has he put the team at risk with his recklessness, his… emotional judgments? And every time, you shield him.”

Hotch held her gaze, his face impassive though his patience was wearing thin. “Reid’s decisions are not reckless. He’s a profiler, just like the rest of us. Sometimes we have to make judgment calls, and Reid—despite his past, despite his personal struggles—makes the right ones more often than not.”

Strauss leaned back in her chair, folding her arms, her expression one of disbelief. “Judgment calls? That’s your defense? We can’t afford judgment calls, Aaron. Not when we’re dealing with murderers, terrorists, and serial predators. Reid’s personal issues cloud his judgment, and that makes him a risk.”

Hotch stepped forward, his voice firm but calm. “We work in the field. Every agent makes judgment calls—myself included. We don’t always have the luxury of time or all the facts laid out perfectly for us. Reid has an exceptional mind, and when he’s under pressure, he performs. Yes, he’s made mistakes, but so have all of us. He’s saved more lives than I can count.”

Strauss’ eyes flashed with irritation. “But his mistakes could have cost lives, Aaron. And you know that. How many times has he hesitated, overthought, or even worse, let his emotions dictate his actions? You’ve had to justify his choices to me and other superiors more times than you should have.”

Hotch’s face remained unreadable, but his voice grew harder. “I justify his decisions because they are the right ones. When you’re in the field, in a life-or-death situation, you need someone like Reid—a man who can think faster than anyone else in the room. His ability to process information, to read people, is unmatched.”

Strauss shook her head, her frustration boiling over. “You call it unmatched. I call it unstable. His mind may be brilliant, but it’s fragile. You can’t deny that. And you can’t keep making excuses for him. This is a dangerous game, and the stakes are too high for mistakes.”

Hotch’s eyes narrowed. “He’s not unstable. He’s human. Every member of this team has had to make decisions under pressure, sometimes with incomplete information, and Reid is no different.”

“But he is different,” Strauss countered, her voice cutting through the room. “He’s the one who’s been to rehab. He’s the one who struggles with dependency. And let’s not forget the mental strain he’s been under for years. The rest of your team—Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi—they’re reliable. Reid, on the other hand, is unpredictable.”

Hotch’s jaw tightened, but he kept his tone measured. “He’s faced more than most of us could handle, and he’s come out the other side stronger. I trust him with my life, and so does the team.”

Strauss leaned forward, her gaze cold. “I don’t. And that’s why this is non-negotiable, Hotch. Monthly drug tests. If he slips, if there’s even a hint of a problem, he’s out. I will not tolerate another incident where I have to clean up his mess because you think his ‘judgment calls’ are excusable.”

Hotch stared at her for a long moment, the tension palpable. “And what happens when you push him out and lose one of the best agents this Bureau has ever had?”

Strauss didn’t blink. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

The silence hung heavy between them, and Hotch realized no amount of reasoning would sway her.

Hotch left Strauss’s office, the tension from their conversation still lingering in the back of his mind. He didn’t like this any more than Spencer would, but Strauss had made her decision, and now it was up to him to break the news. The whole situation felt like a slap in the face to Spencer’s progress, and Hotch knew the young agent wouldn’t take it well.

Hotch found Spencer in the bullpen, hunched over some files, lost in thought. The usual furrow of concentration on his brow lifted as he glanced up and saw Hotch approaching.

"Hey, Hotch," Spencer greeted with a faint smile, but Hotch could see the weariness behind it. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest as he sat down across from him.

"Spencer, we need to talk," Hotch said, his tone more serious than usual.

Spencer’s smile faded, replaced by a look of curiosity, then mild concern. "What’s going on?"

Hotch exhaled, running a hand over his face before speaking. "Strauss is implementing new protocols. Effective immediately, you’ll be subjected to monthly drug tests."

Spencer blinked, his expression falling into confusion. "What? Why now? I haven’t used in four years, Hotch. I thought all of that was behind us."

Hotch leaned forward, his voice calm but steady. "I know, and I’ve made that clear to her. You’ve been clean for years, and we all see the progress you’ve made. But Strauss doesn’t trust that your addiction won’t resurface. She’s convinced that you're still a liability."

Spencer’s face twisted in frustration, and his hands fidgeted on the desk in front of him. He let out a breath, shaking his head. "I don’t understand. I’ve done everything right. I’ve proven myself. Why does she still think I’m going to screw up?"

Hotch looked at him sympathetically. "This isn’t about you, Spencer. It’s about Strauss’s own perception."

Spencer clenched his fists, the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. "I thought… I thought we were past all of that. Four years clean, Hotch. Four years. And she still sees me as a ticking time bomb."

Hotch’s gaze softened. "I know it’s unfair, and I wish I could change it. But Strauss has the power to enforce this protocol. I fought for you, Spencer. I’ll always fight for you. But this is one battle I couldn’t win."

Spencer leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he processed the information. The frustration and hurt in his eyes were evident. "Why does she hate me so much?" he muttered, more to himself than to Hotch. "Why am I always the one who has to prove myself over and over again?"

Hotch didn’t have an answer for that. Strauss’s animosity toward Spencer had always been unwarranted, and no matter how hard Spencer worked, it seemed she would never let go of the past.

"You’re not alone in this," Hotch said quietly, his voice firm. "The team knows how far you’ve come. We trust you. And we’ll make sure this doesn’t interfere with your work."

Spencer nodded, though the disappointment was still etched on his face. "I just don’t get it. I’ve done everything I’m supposed to do. Why can’t she see that?"

Hotch reached across the desk, resting a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. "Because people like Strauss only see the risks, not the person. But we see you, Spencer. Don’t let her take that away from you."

Spencer offered a small, grateful smile, though the frustration still lingered in his eyes. He had been through enough, and this just felt like one more hurdle to jump.

As Hotch walked away, Spencer sat there, staring at the papers in front of him. He had thought the worst was behind him—that his addiction, his past struggles, were finally over. But now, with Strauss breathing down his neck, it felt like he was back at square one. And no matter how hard he worked, how far he came, there was always someone like Strauss, waiting to drag him back down.

—

“Spencer!” you screeched from your bedroom, the urgency in your voice sending Spencer into an instant state of panic. He rushed in, his mind racing, worried something terrible had happened.

But when he burst through the door, what greeted him was not a disaster—well, not the kind he had imagined. You were sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by heaps of clothes, wearing nothing but your bra and underwear. The sight made him chuckle, though he was also slightly flustered, his cheeks tinged pink at the sight of you in so little.

“What’s up, Red?” Spencer asked, trying to keep his voice steady despite how his heart raced.

You looked up at him, pouting, clearly distressed. Spencer, in his cozy sweatpants and hoodie, looked perfectly at ease while you were caught in a whirlwind of indecision. “I don’t know what to wear tonight,” you groaned, gesturing helplessly at the mountain of clothes surrounding you.

Spencer chuckled again, stepping further into the room. “Y/N, we’re not even meeting them for…” he checked his watch and raised his brow, “five hours!”

“I knowww,” you whined, your voice petulant as you flopped back dramatically onto the floor. “But I want to make a good impression.”

Spencer couldn’t help but smile at how adorably worked up you were. He crouched down beside you, his eyes warm as he gazed at your scattered wardrobe. “You could show up in a garbage bag, and they’d still love you,” he said softly, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. “Trust me, you don’t need to stress.”

You sighed, sitting back up and grabbing a blouse. “Easy for you to say,” you mumbled, holding the shirt up. “You look good in everything.”

Spencer laughed softly, his fingers brushing against your cheek before leaning in to kiss the top of your head. “You’ll look amazing no matter what you wear. And honestly, they’re just excited to meet the person who’s made me so happy.” 

You looked up at him, his words warming your heart. “You’re really sweet, you know that?”

Spencer smiled. “That’s what you keep telling me.” He glanced down at the pile of clothes again. “Now, let’s figure out what outfit makes you feel as amazing as you are.”

After a lot of playful back and forth, Spencer finally helped you choose an outfit, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have the sweetest man alive by your side. You stood in your room, back in your bra and underwear, having set out the outfit for later, a black dress with red tights, duh. As you got ready, your heart swelled with affection for him—your boyfriend, the man who already seemed to know how to calm your nerves.

Standing in front of him, you ran your hands up Spencer’s chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the soft fabric of his hoodie. With a teasing smile, you tugged gently on the strings of his hoodie, pulling him closer. “Can I show you how much I appreciate you, handsome?” you whispered, your voice playful but filled with sincerity.

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly at your words, his cheeks flushing a light pink. He was always so adorably flustered when you teased him like this. But he smiled softly, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your lips, his hands resting on your waist. “You already do,” he murmured against your lips, but there was no mistaking the way his breath hitched, betraying just how much he wanted you.

“Mm, but I want to really show you,” you breathed softly, your hands dropping to the waistband of Spencer’s sweats. His breath hitched immediately at the sensation of your fingers lightly teasing beneath the fabric, brushing against the coarse hair below.

“Wh—what did you have in mind?” he asked, his voice shaky as he struggled to keep his composure.

You smiled up at him, letting your fingers explore just a little, before you slowly began lowering yourself to your knees. “Well… I could tell you,” you said playfully, your voice dropping to a whisper, “or I could show you.”

Spencer’s breathing became ragged, his chest rising and falling with heaving breaths as he tried to process what was happening. “Oh my god, uh…” he stammered, clearly caught off guard by the sudden intensity.

You firmly grasped the waistband of his sweats then, looking up at him for permission. “Can I?” you asked gently, always making sure he was comfortable.

Spencer didn’t respond right away. His voice was quiet, almost apologetic as he confessed, “I’ve never—no one has…”

You immediately understood, pulling your hands back gently. “Oh baby, we don’t have to,” you said softly, standing up and placing a reassuring hand on his cheek.

Spencer looked at you with gratitude and an apology in his eyes. “Maybe later?” he offered, his tone tentative but sincere. “We… we need to get ready.”

You smiled warmly, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. “Of course,” you whispered. There was no need to push or rush anything. You had plenty of time, and you’d always respect his boundaries.

Later, after you and Spencer had finished getting ready, you couldn’t help but feel a bit pent up. Spencer looked good earlier, but now? Now, he looked downright irresistible. His button-down shirt paired with a checkered sweater vest, and those slacks—hugging him just right—had you practically drooling. But with Spencer’s earlier discomfort, you held your tongue, not wanting to push things too soon. 

After a quick kiss and a quiet pep talk, the two of you were outside, hailing a cab to meet his team at the bar. Your nerves were still buzzing. You were excited for Spencer, but the thought of someone recognizing you, of someone saying something, kept you on edge. You wanted to be the best partner to him, especially with how proud he was to introduce you to everyone.

As you approached the table, your nerves flared even more, but you plastered on a confident smile. Sitting around the table were Derek, Emily, JJ, and Penelope, all of whom greeted you warmly, each with their own playful digs at Spencer.

“Well, well,” Derek grinned, leaning back in his chair as he gave Spencer a once-over. “Pretty Boy wasn’t kidding when he said he was smitten.”

Emily raised an eyebrow, smirking as she gave you a friendly once-over. “Wow, Reid. No wonder you’ve been so secretive. I would’ve kept this hidden too.”

JJ nudged Penelope, who had stars in her eyes. “I’m so happy you’re real!” Penelope practically squealed. “I thought for sure Spencer was making you up.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, laughing, as he proudly introduced you to his team, visibly glowing from how much they seemed to like you right off the bat.

You smiled, feeling more at ease, though still a bit on edge as you scanned the room. No sign of Hotch or Rossi—thank god, you thought, allowing yourself a moment to relax.

But just as you were about to take a seat, you heard it—the unmistakable voice from behind you. “Reid, is this your lady?” Rossi’s voice carried through the bar, calm and curious.

You froze, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks as you turned, your breath catching in your throat. As your eyes met Rossi’s, you immediately saw it—the flicker of recognition. Then, as you glanced at Hotch standing next to him, it was unmistakable. They both recognized you.

Your heart pounded as you pleaded with your eyes, hoping Rossi would get the message. Please, don’t say anything.

Spencer, none the wiser, smiled brightly as he introduced you. “Yes! Rossi, Hotch—this is Y/N.”

You extended your hand, swallowing your nerves as you greeted them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

Rossi took your hand, his grip warm and familiar as he gave you a knowing look. But instead of saying anything, he squeezed your hand gently and winked. "The pleasure is all mine," he said smoothly, his voice betraying nothing.

You breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that for now, your secret was safe.

Hotch nodded politely, his expression neutral but his eyes scanning you, clearly making a mental note of the situation. But just like Rossi, he remained silent on the matter.

Spencer, completely oblivious, continued chatting with the group, beaming with pride as he showed you off to the people who mattered most to him. You smiled along, feeling the weight lift slightly, knowing that at least for now, your past could stay buried.

As the drinks flowed and the night progressed, you found yourself thoroughly enjoying the company of Spencer’s team. They were warm, welcoming, and great fun to be around, making it easier for you to relax. Even Hotch and Rossi, after the initial awkwardness, had lightened up, joining in the laughter and the storytelling.

It was a blast hearing them tease Spencer, recounting funny case stories and little moments from their years together. You were especially enjoying the bond you were forming with Penelope, both of you gushing over your shared love for tech and quickly finding an easy rhythm with one another. You felt like you’d made an instant friend.

But with every sip of your drink, your attention kept drifting back to Spencer. He just looked so good, sitting there, his eyes a little hooded from the alcohol, his jaw clenching as he excitedly explained some complex theory to Emily. His hands moved with purpose, fingers waving as he passionately discussed whatever topic he was on. The sight of him like that—so animated, so him—had desire steadily building in the pit of your stomach.

You bit your lip, watching him for a moment before giving in to temptation. Slowly, you slid your hand onto his thigh under the table, your fingers curling around him firmly. Spencer jolted slightly, his conversation with Emily stuttering as he tried to refocus.

He coughed lightly, glancing at you with wide eyes before quickly turning back to Emily, pretending to concentrate on the conversation while clearly trying to ignore your wandering hand.

But you weren’t making it easy for him. You smirked slightly, your thumb stroking slow circles against his thigh, inching closer. You could see the tension in his posture, how he was trying desperately to maintain his composure while you toyed with him.

Spencer stammered again, shooting you a look that was half warning, half pleading, but he couldn’t stop the flush creeping up his neck. His jaw tightened, and he shifted slightly in his seat, clearly struggling to keep it together as your touch continued to drive him wild beneath the table.

Spencer was briefly rescued by an unsung hero—Rossi.

“I’m going to get another drink,” Rossi announced, his tone casual as he looked in your direction. “Y/N, yours is looking light. Care to come with?” The look he gave you left no room for arguing. It was more of a command than an offer.

You nodded and stood, following him to the bar, your heart pounding. Once you were there, away from the laughter and teasing at the table, Rossi’s expression shifted. The warmth he usually radiated had cooled into something far more serious, almost stern.

“He doesn’t know, does he?” Rossi asked, cutting straight to the point.

You sighed, leaning against the bar. “Not yet.”

Rossi’s glare was sharp, filled with concern rather than judgment. “You need to tell him, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a weight to his words you couldn’t brush off. “Come on, David. It’s not like it’s life or death.”

“No, it’s not,” Rossi agreed, his voice calm but firm. “But it’s going to matter to him. Especially now that you know. The longer you wait, the worse it gets.”

You hated how right he was. You hated that every day you kept this secret, the weight of it grew heavier. “I know,” you admitted, the frustration clear in your voice. “But what if he doesn’t want to be with me anymore? What if it changes everything?”

Rossi’s expression softened slightly, his sternness giving way to understanding. “Spencer isn’t like that,” he said quietly. “But he values honesty. Keeping this from him… it’ll hurt him more than the truth ever will. If he finds out later, he’ll feel betrayed. And you don’t want that, do you?”

You shook your head, staring down at the drink the bartender had just handed you. “No, I don’t.”

Rossi placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I know it’s scary,” he said softly. “But trust me—Spencer cares about you. He’ll understand. You just have to give him the chance to.”

You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath as the weight of the conversation settled in. You knew what you had to do, but the thought of it still sent a nervous chill down your spine.

Rossi gave you a reassuring squeeze. “Better sooner than later, kiddo.” Then, with a wink, he turned to head back to the table, leaving you alone with your thoughts for a moment. 

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what lay ahead. 

When you returned to Spencer’s side, he didn’t even notice that you hadn’t come back with a drink. Instead, he smiled brightly and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. The warmth of his body instantly soothed you, but the mistake became apparent as soon as you breathed in his scent—clean, warm, and undeniably Spencer. The hunger inside you flared up tenfold, and you had to fight to keep your mind from wandering into dangerous territory.

Derek, of course, seized the moment, grinning mischievously from across the table. “Did Spencer tell you about the time a famous actress kissed him?”

Your eyebrows shot up, intrigued but also curious to see Spencer’s reaction. “What?” you asked with a teasing smile, nudging Spencer lightly. “No, he conveniently left that part out.”

Spencer flushed instantly, his arm tightening slightly around you as he groaned. “Oh god, not this story,” he muttered, glaring at Derek.

“Oh, come on, Pretty Boy,” Derek laughed, leaning back in his chair. “You’re basically a celebrity yourself for that one.”

You looked up at Spencer, eyes wide with curiosity. “I have to hear this,” you said, trying to keep the playful edge in your voice despite how distracted you felt by his proximity.

Spencer sighed, clearly embarrassed. “It wasn’t a big deal,” he said quickly, as if trying to brush it off.

Derek scoffed, shaking his head as if Spencer’s modesty was the most ridiculous thing he’d heard all night. “Not a big deal? Reid here was pulled into a swimming pool. She basically mounted him.”

You laughed, eyes widening in disbelief. “What?!”

Spencer buried his face in his hands, shaking his head in defeat, while Derek grinned like the cat that got the cream. "Yep, and the best part? The paparazzi caught the whole thing."

“There are pictures on the internet!” Penelope chimed in cheerfully, as if offering you a goldmine of information. "I saved them to my phone!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your curiosity piqued even more. “Oh, I have to see these.”

Spencer groaned, leaning back in his seat, his face flushed red. “Please don’t encourage them,” he muttered, though there was a hint of amusement tugging at his lips.

Derek leaned forward, enjoying every moment of Spencer’s discomfort. “Oh no, Y/N, you definitely need to look it up. It’s a classic ‘Reid in over his head’ moment. He’s all wet, confused, and awkward—it’s priceless.”

Penelope nodded eagerly. “He tried to escape, but the actress wouldn’t let him go. She had him trapped!”

You were laughing so hard you had to wipe tears from your eyes. “Oh my god, Spencer,” you giggled, leaning against him. “How did I not know about this sooner?”

Spencer, though clearly embarrassed, finally cracked a smile. “I didn’t think it was relevant,” he mumbled, shooting Derek and Penelope a half-hearted glare.

“Uh-huh, sure,” Derek teased. “Don’t let him fool you, Y/N. She was all over him.”

You giggled, poking Spencer’s side playfully. “Why do I feel like I’m going to need more details later?”

Spencer groaned again, but there was a small, sheepish smile on his face as he squeezed your shoulder. “We’ll talk about it… eventually,” he muttered.

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into him again, the tension from earlier melting away slightly as you enjoyed the moment with him and his team. For now, the weight of your secret could wait just a little longer.

The group finally decided to call it a night, but you were buzzing with excitement, eager to get Spencer alone—all to yourself. Both of you had stopped drinking hours ago, switching to water to avoid any hangovers, but the anticipation had been steadily building. 

As soon as you climbed into the back of a cab together, your hand instinctively returned to Spencer’s thigh, your fingers squeezing appreciatively as they traced the thick muscle. You weren't planning on doing anything more, especially in public, but the closeness only fueled the fire inside you.

The cab ride felt longer than usual, the tension simmering between you two in the dim light of the backseat. Spencer seemed to notice it too, his eyes meeting yours in silent understanding. 

But once you had Spencer inside your front door, all restraint vanished. You pushed him against a bare wall with urgency, your hands gripping his lithe waist as your lips found his neck, planting hot, hungry kisses along his skin.

"Y/N?" Spencer gasped, his voice strained with both surprise and desire. His breath hitched as your teeth grazed his pulse. "What’s gotten into you?"

You didn’t answer right away, too focused on the taste of his skin and the way his body responded to every touch. Instead, you kissed your way up to his mouth, pressing yourself against him. Between breaths, you mumbled against his lips, “Hopefully you.”

Spencer let out a low groan, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you even closer. “I’m not sure I can resist you right now,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, already losing the battle against the pull you had over him.

You grinned against his mouth, your fingers threading through his hair as the kiss deepened, the heat between you both simmering to a near-boiling point. “Please don’t resist,” you whispered against his lips, your voice low and filled with need. “You looked so fucking hot tonight.”

Spencer’s breath hitched, and before he could respond, you dropped to your knees in front of him, your hand pressing against the growing hardness in his slacks. The pressure of your touch made him buck his hips forward instinctively, his eyes widening as the sensation shot through him.

“Is this okay now?” you asked, your voice breathy with desire as you looked up at him, your hand still teasing him through the fabric. “Please, Spencer. Please, I need to taste you.”

His mind raced, a jumble of thoughts and emotions, but all of them led to the same conclusion—how could he say no when you asked him like that, when the hunger in your eyes matched his own? He nodded frantically, too overwhelmed to form proper words, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

As your fingers deftly worked to undo his belt and the button of his slacks, Spencer let out a shaky breath, his hands bracing against the wall behind him for support. He was already losing himself to the intensity of the moment, the anticipation building with every second.

Spencer swallowed hard, his nerves apparent as he shifted slightly under your touch. “What, um, what do I do?” he asked nervously, his voice wavering with uncertainty.

You smiled up at him like a vixen, your lips brushing over the now-exposed skin of his thighs, teasingly close to where he wanted you most. His breath hitched as you nosed along the front of his briefs, the friction sending a shudder through him that made him whimper.

Sticking your tongue out, you traced him through the fabric, feeling the heat radiating through it, and looked up at him with playful intent. “Try not to make me gag,” you teased, your voice low and sultry. “Pull my hair if you like… and let me know when you’re going to come.”

Spencer’s eyes widened, the tension and excitement evident in his expression. His grip on the wall tightened as he nodded, trying to follow your instructions, but the way you spoke and the feeling of your tongue against him had him unraveling already.

The moment was intoxicating, your playful control over him leaving him helpless as he tried to hold it together. Every touch, every word, was pushing him closer to the edge, and he could hardly believe this was happening.

As you pulled off the last barrier, Spencer’s briefs sliding down, you couldn’t help but grin like you’d just unwrapped the most perfect present. You’d seen him naked before, but this was different—having his hard cock right in front of you, so close, filled you with an intoxicating sense of control and desire. 

You licked your lips, savoring the moment, leaning down to press a soft kiss against his head, tasting him for the first time. Spencer’s breath hitched, his back instinctively pulling away from the wall as a wave of sensation coursed through him. His hands found their way into your hair, his grip hesitant at first but growing more confident as the pleasure built.

When you finally wrapped your lips around him, Spencer’s entire body reacted, his hands tugging at your hair, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips. He was already a mess, and you’d barely begun.

Pulling back for just a moment, you looked up at him with a wicked glint in your eyes and whispered, “Good boy.”

The praise hit him like a freight train, his hips bucking slightly as he let out a pathetic, needy whimper in response. He was completely at your mercy, lost in the sensation, and he didn’t care how desperate he sounded. Every touch, every word from you was pushing him further under, and he wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment, completely overwhelmed by you.

You leaned back in, taking him into your mouth again, more confident now that you’d seen his reactions. Spencer’s hands tightened in your hair as his body arched, his control slowly unraveling with each passing second. You could feel the tension building in him, hear the way his breath quickened, shaky and unsteady, as he tried to hold back.

Every movement you made seemed to push him further toward the edge. The way you hollowed your cheeks, the small flicks of your tongue, the pressure—everything was driving him wild. His hips bucked involuntarily, but you were ready for it, holding him steady as you took him deeper.

“Y/N…” he gasped, barely able to find his voice. His breathing was ragged now, and he was doing everything he could to hold on. “I’m close…”

You hummed around him in response, the vibrations almost sending him over the edge. He tightened his grip in your hair, his hips stuttering as he let out a broken moan, his body trembling from the intensity of it all.

“God, darling…” Spencer whimpered, his voice barely a whisper as he prepared to ride out the waves of pleasure, his head falling back against the wall. 

Spencer’s breath hitched as you pulled back suddenly, leaving him teetering on the edge without release. His body betrayed him, a desperate whine escaping his lips as he thrashed lightly against the wall, trying to chase the pleasure you’d just denied him. 

You placed a firm hand on his hip, grounding him, while your other hand came up to stroke him slowly, teasingly. "Over so soon, baby?" you asked, your voice laced with amusement, watching his reactions closely. 

“I’m—” he hiccuped, barely able to get the words out, “I’m sorry, it just feels so good.”

You arched an eyebrow, teasing him further. “Thought you weren’t a virgin, Spence?”

His face flushed deep red, his breath ragged and uneven as he struggled to focus. “I’m n—not,” he stammered, his words tumbling over themselves as he tried to speak while your hand brought him back to the brink. “Just hav—ah—haven’t had this before.”

Your strokes were slow and deliberate, torturous in the best way, and you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his tip. “Is it too much for you?” you whispered softly, your voice low and seductive.

Spencer shook his head frantically, biting his lip as he tried to hold back. “No… no, I—I don’t want you to stop,” he gasped, his hands instinctively gripping your hair tighter, his fingers digging into your scalp as he tried to anchor himself. “Please…”

You smiled at his response, watching as he lost himself to the sensations, barely able to hold on as you continued to push him further. “Good,” you murmured, “because I’m not done with you yet.”

Spencer's entire body was trembling under your touch, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as you continued to stroke him with slow, deliberate movements. His head was thrown back against the wall, his chest heaving with the effort it took to hold himself together.

You smirked, watching the way his eyes fluttered closed, completely at your mercy. His desperation was palpable, and it made you want to push him further—to see just how much he could take.

“You look so good like this,” you whispered, your voice filled with both praise and desire. “Completely undone for me.”

Spencer’s hips jerked slightly in response, and he whimpered again, barely able to form words as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. “Y/N, please,” he gasped, his voice shaky. “I—I can’t—”

You leaned in closer, pressing your lips against his hip, kissing and biting lightly as you kept your hand moving at a torturous pace. “What do you want, Spence?” you asked softly, your breath warm against his skin.

Spencer’s voice broke as he whimpered, his words nearly a plea. “You—your mouth, please,” he begged, his body trembling, the desperation in his tone unmistakable. He was so close to the edge, and you could tell he was barely holding himself together.

You smiled softly, relishing the power you had over him in this moment. “Okay, baby,” you whispered, your voice laced with both affection and desire. “You’ve been so good for me… you can have whatever you want.”

Without wasting another moment, and your hand still gently stroking him, you placed a soft kiss on his tip. You looked up at him through your lashes, watching as his entire body shuddered in anticipation. His hands tightened in your hair again after losing their grip, and you could feel how tightly he was holding on, as if letting go would make him lose control completely.

Slowly, you took him into your mouth, savoring the salty taste and the way his body reacted immediately. Spencer’s head fell back against the wall, a strangled moan escaping his lips as his hips instinctively pushed forward, gagging you.

“You’re so good,” he gasped, his voice breathless as he struggled to keep his composure. “So, so good…”

The praise only made you work harder, hollowing your cheeks as you took him deeper, determined to give him exactly what he asked for. Spencer’s body trembled under your touch, and you could feel the tension building rapidly, his breaths becoming shorter and more erratic with each passing second.

“Y/N, I—” he managed to choke out, his hands tightening in your hair. “I’m gonna—”

You didn’t pull away this time. You kept going, your pace quickening and your other hand cupping his balls as you brought him right to the edge, determined to take him all the way.

And then, with a final, desperate moan, Spencer came undone completely, his body trembling as he released into your mouth, his grip on your hair tightening for a moment before he released it completely collapsed back against the wall, utterly spent.

You pulled away slowly, wiping the corner of your mouth with a smirk as you looked up at him. Spencer’s chest was still heaving, his eyes half-lidded and dazed, a blissful smile tugging at his lips.

But then Spencer’s eyes widened in panic, and his face flushed with embarrassment. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—to… in your mouth!”

You giggled, your mouth still full, shaking your head affectionately at his reaction. Then, with a mischievous glint in your eyes, you stuck out your tongue to show him exactly what he had done. Spencer’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, his breath hitching as he took in the sight.

He felt lightheaded, especially when you casually closed your mouth and, in one smooth motion, swallowed. “Jesus,” he breathed, his voice barely audible, the raw intensity of the moment catching up to him.

You grinned wickedly. “Just me, baby,” you winked, laughing as you stood up on slightly wobbly legs, your body still buzzing with the energy of the moment.

Before you could stumble, Spencer’s hands reached out to catch you, steadying you against him. “Whoa, careful, Bambi,” he teased, his voice finally regaining some steadiness.

You narrowed your eyes playfully at his comment, your smile still bright. “I could say the same,” you said, your gaze flicking downward where the hardness of him was pressing into your stomach. “Or should I call you Pinocchio? Again, Spence, really?"

Spencer’s face flushed again, and he laughed awkwardly, his hands tightening around your waist. “I—uh—yeah, sorry about that. It’s just…” he trailed off, looking sheepish as he tried to explain. “You’re kind of… really hot.”

You laughed softly, kissing Spencer sweetly on the lips. But just as you pulled away, Spencer abruptly jerked back, his eyes wide with alarm. “What?” you asked, confused by his sudden reaction.

“You have—me! In your mouth!” he sputtered, looking completely flustered.

You tilted your head, amused by his innocence. “Does that gross you out?” you teased. “Because I think you taste good.”

Spencer flushed even more, which you didn’t think was possible at this point. He stammered, his words tripping over themselves. “I don’t... I don’t know. I’ve just... never thought about it.”

You smiled playfully, shrugging as you turned and sighed dramatically. “Well, you don’t have to kiss me right now, Spence... I guess I’ll just go to bed alone.” Letting your dress fall provocatively from your shoulder, you made your way toward the bedroom, your steps slow and intentional.

Spencer’s mind raced, catching up with the teasing tone in your voice. His heart pounded in his chest as he realized what you were implying. Without hesitation, he scrambled to pull his briefs and pants back up, fastening them quickly before running after you.

“Wait!” he called out, his voice filled with urgency as he reached out to grab your hand, stopping you just before you could disappear into the bedroom.

You turned to face him, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you raised an eyebrow. “Changed your mind?” you asked, your lips curving into a slow smile.

Spencer, still catching his breath, nodded quickly. “I—I’m not letting you go to bed alone,” he said, his voice a mix of determination and longing. “I want to be with you.”

You smiled warmly, pulling him close. “Good answer, baby,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his in a deep, slow kiss, letting him feel how much you wanted him too.

That night, however, the two of you decided to take it slow and just go to bed. You could tell Spencer had done enough exploring for one day, and there was no need to push him further. After all, the night had already been filled with its own excitement.

You handed him a spare toothbrush to keep at your place, something that made Spencer smile shyly. He changed into the sweats he had borrowed earlier, and you both settled into bed, wrapping yourselves in the warmth of each other.

With Spencer nestled against your chest, his head rising and falling gently with your breathing, you kissed the top of his head and sighed contentedly. The moment felt perfect, and you were certain Spencer had already drifted off to sleep when you heard it. The words were so soft, you almost thought you were imagining them.

“I think I'm falling in love with you,” Spencer whispered, his voice barely audible against your skin.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you blinked, unsure if you’d actually heard it. But the warmth of his words lingered in the air, and you knew it was real. You could feel the way his body tensed slightly, like he was scared of what he’d just confessed, but you couldn’t help the wide, beaming smile that stretched across your face.

Your hand gently stroked his hair as you whispered back, “I think I’m falling in love with you, too.”

Spencer’s body relaxed against yours, and for the first time that night, you both fell asleep with the quiet comfort of knowing you were falling in love—together.

—

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed, your hand reaching out instinctively for Spencer, but finding only cool sheets. A flash of panic surged through you until you heard his voice, faint but audible, coming from down the hall. You couldn’t make out the words, but there was a tension in his tone, a heaviness that made your chest tighten.

You slipped out of bed, still groggy, and padded quietly to the door, opening it just enough to see Spencer standing in the living room. The morning sunlight bathed him in a soft, golden glow, highlighting the slump in his shoulders. He was on the phone, and even though his voice was low, you could tell he was upset.

When he heard the door creak open, he quickly wrapped up the conversation. “Hotch, I gotta go. Yeah. Bye,” he said, his tone clipped as he hung up.

You took a tentative step toward him, concern lacing your voice as you asked, “You okay?”

Spencer turned to face you, and without hesitation, he let his body fall into yours. His chin rested gently on the top of your head as he let out a deep, weary sigh. "Yeah," he muttered, though you could feel the weight behind his words. "Just work stuff."

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, trying to offer him the comfort he clearly needed. “Do you want to talk about it?” you asked softly, not wanting to push but needing him to know you were there.

“Not right now,” Spencer murmured, pulling back just enough to look down at you. His smile was small but genuine, as if he was trying to reassure you that everything was fine, even if it wasn’t. “I was trying to make coffee, but I couldn’t find your grounds.”

You laughed, the sound lightening the mood just a little. “I use disposable pods, silly.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Ahh, that would do it.” 

There was a moment of quiet between you as Spencer leaned back into your embrace, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back. Even though he wasn’t ready to talk about whatever was bothering him, you knew he appreciated your presence. And for now, that was enough.

Once the coffee was made and the two of you settled into the comfortable chairs on your deck, the soft morning breeze creating a peaceful atmosphere, you knew it was time. Spencer sat beside you, sipping his coffee, lost in thought but content. The silence between you had been comforting, but there was something tugging at you now, something you needed to share.

You glanced over at him, watching how the sunlight danced across his face, and took a deep breath, feeling your heart pick up pace. Breaking the peaceful quiet, you spoke up softly, “Spencer… can I tell you something? About my past? It’s not exactly happy…”

Spencer’s attention immediately shifted to you, his eyes soft but concerned. He set his mug down on the small table beside him, turning his body slightly to face you. “Of course,” he said gently, his voice calm and reassuring. “You can tell me anything.”

You looked down at your hands, your fingers nervously tracing the edge of your coffee cup. It was hard, the idea of opening up this part of yourself, but if you wanted to move forward, to build something real with Spencer, you knew he deserved to know.

“I haven’t been totally honest with you,” you began slowly, your voice faltering slightly. “It’s not that I’ve lied, but… there are things about my past I haven’t told you.”

Spencer’s expression softened, and he reached out, his hand gently covering yours, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin. “Whatever it is, I’m here.”

You took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the words you were about to say. Spencer’s hand was still resting on yours, grounding you, giving you the strength to continue.

“When I was thirteen,” you started, your voice low, “I lost both of my parents. It wasn’t... it wasn’t an accident or some freak illness. They both died from drug overdoses.”

Spencer’s brows furrowed in concern, but he didn’t say anything, giving you the space to speak.

“My father had always been an addict. I barely remember a time when he wasn’t using something. He was... abusive. Violent, unpredictable.” You swallowed hard, the memories flashing in your mind like dark clouds. “I lived with my mom most of the time. We tried to keep away from him, hiding from him really. He was dangerous, and my mom did her best to protect us.”

You paused, feeling the lump forming in your throat, but Spencer’s thumb tracing circles on your skin kept you anchored.

“One day, when I was at school, my mom was home. She had called in sick that day, just a flu or something. But somehow, my dad found her. He showed up while I was gone.” Your voice wavered, and you closed your eyes for a second, willing yourself to keep going. “When I came home, I found them both... he had overdosed them. I guess he thought if he was going down, he’d take her with him.”

Spencer’s grip on your hand tightened just slightly, and when you looked up, his eyes were filled with compassion and something else... empathy, perhaps. He didn’t say a word, just let you continue.

“That’s how I found them. Both gone, just... gone.” You could feel your breath hitch as the memories flooded back. “After that, my little sister and I went to live with my aunt. She took us in, gave us a home, but it was never the same. My sister... she couldn’t handle what our father did. She was so young, and it broke her.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, but you wiped it away quickly. Spencer leaned closer, his body almost enveloping you with comfort.

“Where is your sister now?” he asked softly, his voice full of concern.

You shook your head, biting your lip to keep it from trembling. “I don’t know,” you whispered. “She got addicted too, a few years later. I tried to help her, but she was... lost. She ran away when she was old enough, and I haven’t heard from her since.”

Spencer looked at you with a pained expression, his hand reaching up to gently cup your cheek. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice breaking slightly. “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you, for both of you.”

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. “It was... it still is. But I guess I’m just terrified of the past catching up to me, of losing more people to the same thing.”

Spencer’s thumb gently stroked your hand, silently encouraging you to continue.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you wiped the last trace of tears from your eyes. “I love my aunt dearly,” you said, voice soft but filled with warmth. “She’s an amazing woman. Without her, I don’t know where I’d be... I probably would have ended up in foster care, or worse.”

“She did everything she could to help my sister,” you continued. “Took us both in when she didn’t have to, gave us a home, stability. But... my sister refused treatment, refused help. My aunt tried, I tried, but she just... wouldn’t listen. I think... I think she was too broken by everything that happened.”

Spencer’s brow furrowed as he listened, his eyes reflecting the deep sadness he felt on your behalf. “Your aunt sounds like an incredible person,” he said softly. “She must have cared for you both so much.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “She did, and she still does. I wouldn’t have made it without her. She never gave up on me, even when things got really dark. But with my sister...” You trailed off, the pain still fresh despite the years. “She just couldn’t reach her, no matter how hard she tried.”

Spencer’s gaze softened even more, and he pulled you a little closer, wrapping his arm around you protectively. “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that, Y/N. I wish I could take away that pain for you.”

You leaned into him, letting the warmth of his embrace comfort you. “It’s okay,” you whispered, “I’ve learned to live with it. It’s just hard, knowing that no matter how much love we gave her, my sister couldn’t be saved.”

Spencer pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his voice gentle as he spoke. “You did everything you could. Sometimes... people just aren’t ready to accept help. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t try, or that you didn’t love her enough.”

For a moment, you allowed yourself to just breathe. You hadn’t shared this part of yourself with anyone in such a long time, and Spencer’s quiet understanding felt like a balm to your soul.

“She sounds like an incredible woman, your aunt,” Spencer added, squeezing your hand gently. “And so do you.”

You looked at Spencer with tears welling in your eyes, your emotions on full display. “Thank you, Spencer,” you whispered, your voice shaky but filled with gratitude. His thumb gently wiped a tear from underneath your eye, his touch soft and reassuring.

"Not just for listening,” you continued, “but for being you.”

Spencer smiled at you, a deep, affectionate smile that made your heart flutter. His eyes shone with understanding and care, and in that moment, you felt an overwhelming connection between you two. He leaned forward then, kissing you deeply, a kiss full of warmth and unspoken promises.

"Thank you for telling me," he murmured softly, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against yours.

You laughed softly, more at yourself than anything, as you wiped away the remnants of your tears. "Okay, whew, that’s that," you said, trying to lighten the mood. "Now you know. We can stop crying now."

Spencer smiled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His eyes flickered with something more, a desire to share, to open up just as you had. “Do you want to know about my parents?” he asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded your head, giving him your full attention, ready to listen just as he had for you.

Spencer sighed deeply, his gaze far away for a moment, as if gathering the words. “My mom… she has schizophrenia. It started when I was really young, and I spent a lot of time trying to understand her illness. It wasn’t easy growing up, knowing she wasn’t like other moms. She was brilliant though, a professor of literature. She used to read to me all the time, teaching me about everything she loved. That’s probably where I get my love for books.”

You listened intently, your heart breaking a little for the boy he once was, trying to make sense of a world so complex and painful.

“My dad left when I was ten,” Spencer continued, his voice quieter now. “He couldn’t handle it anymore—her illness, the responsibility. He just… left. And it was just me and her after that.”

Spencer’s voice wavered slightly, but he stayed composed. “I spent my childhood trying to take care of her, in my own way. She had episodes, but I didn’t want her to go to a hospital, so I hid a lot of it from people. I thought… I thought I could fix it.”

You reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. Spencer glanced at you, his expression softening as he took comfort in your presence.

“I’ve made peace with it now,” Spencer said after a beat. “But it wasn’t easy. There were days I felt like I was drowning, trying to take care of her and go to school, trying to make something of myself.” He paused, then added, “She’s in a facility now, getting the care she needs. I visit when I can.”

You sat in silence for a moment, letting his words settle, understanding the depth of his pain and the strength it must have taken to survive such a childhood.

"Thank you for telling me," you whispered, echoing his earlier words. Your thumb brushed against the back of his hand as you gazed at him with admiration. "You’re a wonderful man, Spencer."

He smiled softly, his eyes brimming with affection as he leaned in to kiss your forehead.

When the coffee was finished and the emotional weight of your stories had settled, you both stood up, moving inside together. There was no need for plans, no pressure to fill the day with anything grand. You simply wanted to be together, to spend the day wrapped up in each other’s presence, doing nothing but enjoying the quiet comfort of your shared company.

—

Spencer’s day had started off on a sour note the moment he walked into the testing facility. The thought of being watched during such an intimate, humiliating process had been enough to make his stomach churn. The presence of the other agent, someone he didn’t know, standing nearby as he tried to perform an already uncomfortable task had only worsened his mood.

By the time he returned to the office, Spencer was tense, his nerves frayed from the ordeal. His team—his friends—were used to his occasional bad moods, but this was different. He hated that the drug tests were a constant reminder of a time in his life he’d fought so hard to put behind him, a scar that Strauss and her protocols kept reopening.

Penelope was the first to try and talk to him, her usual bubbly energy shining through as she asked, “Hey, Reid, how was your weekend? Did you spend it with your girl?”

Without thinking, Spencer snapped, his voice sharper than he intended. “I don’t want to talk about it, Penelope.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and he could see the hurt flash across her face before she quickly masked it with a forced smile. He regretted it immediately, but in his irritation, he couldn’t bring himself to apologize right away.

Then, Derek, ever the good friend, set a fresh cup of coffee on Spencer’s desk—a simple gesture of kindness. But when a bit of the coffee spilled over the edge onto his papers, Spencer’s patience snapped again.

“Can you not?” Spencer bit out, glaring at the small mess. “It’s everywhere now, Morgan.”

Derek raised his hands in surrender, clearly not wanting to poke the bear. “Alright, alright, take it easy, pretty boy.”

Emily, sensing Spencer’s volatile mood, wisely kept her distance. She’d seen him like this before and knew better than to engage when he was on edge.

JJ, always the nurturer, tried her best to offer a soothing presence. “Spence, are you okay? You seem a little... off today.”

But instead of the comfort she usually brought, her words only stoked the fire. “I’m fine, JJ. Can everyone just stop asking me how I’m doing?”

Her eyes widened, taken aback by his harsh tone, and Spencer immediately felt a pang of guilt. He didn’t mean to lash out, especially at JJ, who was only trying to help. His apology came quickly, but it did little to ease the tension.

“Sorry,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his frustration pressing down on him. “I just... I’m not in a great place right now.”

Hotch had been watching from his office, observing how Spencer was struggling to keep it together. He knew better than most what Spencer was going through, but it was clear today wasn’t a day Spencer should be in the office.

He walked over to Spencer’s desk, his expression firm but understanding. “Reid, go home.”

Spencer looked up, surprised. “I have work to finish—”

“You can take it with you,” Hotch interrupted, his voice leaving no room for argument. “You need some space. Go home, get some rest. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Spencer didn’t fight it. He nodded, collecting his things, knowing that Hotch was right. He wasn’t doing anyone any good by staying, and his snapping at the people who cared about him only made him feel worse.

As he left the office, Spencer felt a weight lift slightly from his shoulders. But the humiliation of the morning still gnawed at him, and he wondered how long this protocol would hang over his head like a dark cloud.

Things only got worse when you texted Spencer on your lunch break, sharing a silly story about a printer mix-up at work. Normally, Spencer would find your anecdotes charming, loving the way you broke them up into several texts as if you were telling the story in person. But today, the constant pinging of his phone was too much for his already frayed nerves.

He stared at the screen, watching the notifications pile up, the sound seeming louder and more grating than usual. The tension from the day—the frustration, the stress, the hidden weight of what he was dealing with—made every ping feel like it was vibrating directly into his skull.

Instead of waiting for more texts to come through, he called you. It wasn’t out of anger, but a desperate need to silence the noise and prevent the headache he felt creeping up.

“Hi, baby!” you answered, your voice bright and cheery, though you sounded a little surprised. “I didn’t realize you were on your phone. Sorry if I was texting too much—”

“I’m home. Hotch let me leave early,” he huffed, his voice sharp and tense, though he hadn’t meant for it to sound so irritated.

“Oh…” you paused, a little concern creeping into your voice. “Are you alright? Are you feeling sick?”

Your genuine worry, which normally would have soothed him, only felt like another weight on his chest today. He wasn’t angry with you, but the frustration that had been building all day finally spilled over.

“I’m fine,” Spencer snapped, his tone harsher than he intended. “I just… I’m having a bad day, okay?”

The line went quiet for a moment. He immediately regretted his words, knowing you didn’t deserve the brunt of his frustration. You hadn’t done anything wrong, and here he was, snapping at you over something as small as a few text messages.

“I’m sorry, Spencer,” you said softly, the lightness in your voice replaced with a gentle, understanding tone. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

He sighed, the guilt crashing down on him. You had no idea what he was really dealing with—he hadn’t told you about the drug tests, about Strauss's constant scrutiny. He didn’t want you to worry, didn’t want you to think any less of him, so he kept it all to himself. But now, it was spilling over into how he treated you, and he hated that.

“No, I know. I’m sorry,” Spencer replied, softer now, trying to reign in his frustration. “It’s not you, I just… today’s been rough.”

There was a pause again, your voice gentle when you finally spoke. “Do you want me to come over? We don’t have to talk about it. I can just be there.”

Spencer hesitated. The truth was, part of him wanted you there. He always felt better with you around, your presence grounding him in ways he couldn’t explain. But today, he wasn’t sure if he could handle being around anyone, even you. Not when he felt so close to snapping at the slightest thing.

“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “Maybe… I just need some space right now.”

Your understanding was immediate, though he could hear the slight tinge of hurt in your voice. “Okay, I get it. Just know I’m here if you need anything, alright?”

“Yeah,” Spencer muttered, closing his eyes and trying to push away the guilt and frustration swirling inside him. “Thanks, Y/N.”

When the call ended, Spencer sat in the quiet of his apartment, feeling the weight of his bad day pressing down on him. He knew he should tell you what was going on, but the shame and embarrassment kept him silent. He wanted to feel better, wanted to stop snapping at the people he cared about, but today everything felt… wrong.

—

Rossi stood in Strauss’s office, the door closed behind him, his arms crossed over his chest as he regarded her with a frustrated expression. He had been simmering over this decision for days now, but he knew he had to say something. It was eating at him.

“You know, Erin, I think you went too far this time,” Rossi said, his voice low but firm. “Having Spencer drug tested every month? It’s uncalled for. The kid’s been clean for years now. He’s proven himself.”

Strauss didn’t look up from the file in front of her, her expression unreadable. “David, you of all people should understand why this is necessary.”

“I told you in confidence,” Rossi said, stepping closer to her desk, his voice gaining an edge. “Because of us. Not so you could turn around and use it against him. You think I don’t see what you’re doing?”

Strauss finally lifted her eyes to meet his, her expression calm and collected. “I’m trying to protect her.”

Rossi let out a slow breath, shaking his head. “You’re punishing him for something that hasn’t even happened. He hasn’t slipped up, and I don’t think he will. He’s stronger than you give him credit for.”

“He’s a liability,” Strauss said firmly, not backing down. “And I’m not going to sit by and wait for him to make a mistake that costs us all more than we’re willing to pay.”

Rossi clenched his jaw, frustrated by her unwillingness to see reason. “You’re not protecting her or the Bureau, Erin. You’re making it harder for him to succeed. You’re putting a target on his back.”

Strauss crossed her arms, her expression unyielding. “Sometimes, David, tough decisions have to be made. Whether or not you agree with them.”

Rossi sighed, knowing the conversation was hitting a dead end. “I just hope you realize what you’re doing before it’s too late.” He gave her one final look, disappointed but unsurprised, before turning on his heel and leaving her office, the tension lingering long after he was gone.

—

Spencer stood there, looking so tired and worn down, and your heart clenched at the sight of him. You could tell he was struggling, and the weight of whatever was on his mind was pressing heavily on his shoulders. You stepped closer, gently touching his arm.

“Spencer?” you asked softly, your voice full of concern.

He looked at you, his gaze softened by exhaustion, and he sighed deeply, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m sorry for how I was yesterday… I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

You shook your head, stepping aside to let him in, your hand reaching for his as you pulled him through the door. “You don’t have to apologize, Spencer. But what’s going on? You’ve been so quiet. I’ve been worried.”

He gave a small nod, his eyes downcast as he stepped into your apartment, letting the warmth of your presence surround him. You led him to the couch, and he collapsed into it with a heavy sigh, rubbing at the back of his neck as if trying to ease the tension that had built there.

“I… I just had a really hard day,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Work stuff. It’s… it’s complicated, and I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

Your concern deepened, but you didn’t want to push him. You could see in his eyes that he was holding something back, something that was clearly eating at him, but if he wasn’t ready to share, you would respect that. You just wanted to be there for him, however he needed.

You nodded softly, sitting down beside him and taking his hand in yours, your thumb brushing gently over his knuckles. “Okay. You don’t have to talk about it,” you said gently. “But I’m here. And if you want to just… be, we can do that too.”

Spencer’s shoulders seemed to relax a little at your words, and he let out a small breath, his fingers squeezing yours tightly as if holding on to you was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“I just… I just want to be with you,” he said quietly, his eyes finally meeting yours, the vulnerability in them breaking your heart. “I don’t want to think about anything else right now. I just want to be here with you.”

You gave him a gentle smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “Then we’ll just be,” you whispered.

He closed his eyes as you kissed him, letting out a long, shaky breath as he leaned into your touch. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, letting him rest his head on your shoulder. For a long moment, you just held him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours.

“Thank you,” he murmured after a while, his voice barely audible, but the emotion behind it clear. “For being here.”

You stroked his hair softly, your heart full of love for the man in your arms. “Always, Spencer,” you whispered. “I’m always here.” 

And though the weight of his hidden struggles lingered in the air, for now, it was enough to just be together.

The laughter that filled the room later was like music, and for the first time in what felt like days, Spencer felt light again. You were both sprawled out on the couch, popcorn forgotten as Spencer had successfully wrestled you under him, his hands expertly tickling your sides. Your uncontrollable giggles filled the room as you squirmed beneath him, trying to bat his hands away.

“Spence!” you squealed, your voice rising in playful desperation. “Stop! I can’t—” 

He laughed, his own amusement bubbling up as he leaned down, pressing quick, ticklish kisses along your neck and cheeks, making you squirm even more.

“What?” he teased, pretending not to hear you, his voice lighthearted and mischievous. “Can’t hear you over all this squawking in my ear!”

Your laughter came out in breathless bursts, and you managed to shove at his chest lightly, still giggling as he finally gave you a moment to catch your breath. Spencer grinned down at you, his face flushed from laughter, his earlier heaviness completely gone, replaced by a playful glint in his eyes.

"Truce?" you gasped, still trying to stop your own giggles, your hands grabbing onto his arms to steady yourself.

Spencer tilted his head, pretending to think it over for a moment before nodding, his lips quirking into a smirk. “Alright. Truce. But only because you begged so nicely.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled up at him, your heart swelling at how much lighter and carefree he seemed now. Whatever weight he had been carrying earlier was gone, at least for the moment, and you couldn’t help but feel proud that you had been the one to help lift it. 

He stayed on top of you for a moment longer, both of you catching your breath, the warmth of his body comforting against yours. He leaned down and kissed your forehead softly, his voice gentle as he murmured, “You always know how to make me feel better.”

You smiled up at him, brushing a hand through his hair. “I just like seeing you happy,” you said softly. “You deserve it.”

For a moment, Spencer didn’t say anything, just looking at you with a kind of quiet admiration that made your heart flutter. Then, with a playful smirk, he rolled off you, tugging you back up to sit in his lap. “Alright, I’ll stop tickling you,” he said, eyes glinting with amusement, “for now.”

You glared and pointed your finger in his face, making him cross his eyes like a dork. “Tickle me again, and I’ll... I’ll…”

“Yeah? Go on, honey,” he teased, his smirk growing wider as his hands continued to rub your hips.

Flustered by his confidence, you blurted, “I’ll spit on you.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Is that the best you got?”

You leaned in, lowering your voice as your eyes locked on his. “Careful, baby… sounds like you might actually want that.”

Spencer's smirk faltered slightly, his eyes widening in surprise before he laughed nervously. You could feel the shift in energy between you, the playful banter taking on a new, teasing intensity.

“Wha—no,” he stammered, trying to recover, but the playful glint in your eyes had him flustered.

You leaned in closer, your hands resting on his chest as you whispered in a low, sultry tone, “Mmm, you sure about that?”

Spencer’s breath hitched slightly, his hands instinctively tightening on your hips as he tried to keep his composure. “You’re… you’re just trying to get a rise out of me,” he finally managed to say, his voice a little breathless, but there was no hiding the way his body reacted to your proximity.

You grinned, feeling empowered by the effect you had on him. “And it’s working,” you teased, your lips brushing against his ear as you gently let your hips grind on his.

Spencer swallowed hard, his eyes flicking to yours, filled with affection and playful frustration. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

You giggled, sitting up straight and giving him a satisfied look. “Maybe,” you said sweetly, “but you like it.”

He sighed dramatically, still flustered but clearly loving every second of your teasing. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

Spencer’s hands slipped from your hips, wrapping around your waist instead as he pulled you closer. “But if you threaten me with spitting again,” he whispered, his voice dropping to a mock-serious tone, “I might have to get you back.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And how exactly would you do that?”

He smirked, leaning in closer so his lips were just inches from yours. “I guess you’ll have to find out,” he murmured before kissing you deeply, the playfulness of the moment fading into something more tender and intimate.

“You want to show me?” you whispered against his lips, nipping softly at Spencer’s lower lip, sending a shiver down his spine.

He groaned in response, the sharp, sweet pain igniting something inside him. But as much as the dirty talk stirred him, he hesitated. Spencer wasn’t as experienced as his playful words suggested, even though he'd picked up more than a few lines from the books he'd read — including a couple of romance novels that had taught him a thing or two.

Still, feeling the heat between you, Spencer nodded, leaning in for a kiss. This one wasn’t gentle or tentative, but filled with passion, tongues meeting, teeth grazing lips, and it set off a fire in both of your bellies. 

Your hands gripped at his hair, pulling him closer as his hands moved up your sides, exploring every inch of you, unsure but eager. The kiss deepened, both of you giving in to the moment, feeling the intensity grow between you. It was uncharted territory for him, but he was more than willing to learn with you.

Feeling bold, Spencer let his hands slide down to cup your ass, squeezing tentatively. The whimper that escaped your lips as his fingers dug into your flesh sent a surge of pride through him. He was still a little unsure, but that reaction told him he was on the right track.

But then you pulled back slightly, your eyes glinting with mischief. “Is this what I get? I might have to threaten you more often…”

Something primal seemed to take over Spencer at your teasing words, and before he knew it, his hand came down in a sharp, quick slap against your ass. The sound echoed around the room, but it was your loud, unrestrained moan that had his pulse racing.

His eyes widened, both with shock at his own actions and the reaction it had caused. “You like that?” he asked, his voice thick with a mixture of curiosity and raw desire, unable to believe what had just happened — and how much it seemed to affect both of you.

You met his gaze, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you nodded, biting your lip. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice husky with need. “I do.”

Spencer swallowed hard, realizing he might have just unlocked something new between the two of you — something he was more than ready to explore.

Spencer pulled you back in, capturing your lips in an even deeper kiss, his tongue teasing yours while his hand came down with another sharp slap to your ass. The moan that left your mouth vibrated against his, making his head spin as you ground down on his growing bulge, the heat between you two intensifying by the second.

You both moved together in a desperate, frenzied rhythm, as if the space between your bodies was too much to bear. The need for more overwhelmed both of you, pushing the tension higher, the air thick with desire.

Spencer’s hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements as he let out little grunts and groans, lost in the sensation. Then, with a sharp intake of breath, he threw his head back, pulling you down harder into him, his whole body shuddering as he finished with a deep, guttural groan. 

Panting heavily, his fingers still dug into your hips, he slowly came back down from his high, his forehead resting against yours as both of you caught your breath. The heat between you still simmered, but the moment of release left both of you tingling and a little dazed, wrapped in the intimacy of the moment.

You looked down at him with a playful smirk, unable to resist teasing him just a little. "Spence... did you just come in your pants?"

Still breathing heavily, he nodded, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Yup."

You let out a laugh, shifting slightly on his lap, causing him to groan at the sudden movement against his sensitive cock. "Oops, sorry, baby," you said with a mischievous grin, sitting back on his thighs. "I didn't realize you were so close."

Spencer leaned his head back on the couch, his eyes closed as he tried to steady his breathing. The angle gave you a perfect view of his sharp jawline, and you couldn't help but admire how utterly spent—and gorgeous—he looked in that moment. "I didn't either," he admitted with a small chuckle, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"Lots of pent-up emotions, huh?" you teased, letting your finger trail lightly over the wet spot on his pants. He twitched at the sensation, quickly grabbing your wrist and gently pushing your hand away. He lifted his head, playfully glaring at you, though there was no malice in his gaze, only affection.

"Not funny," he muttered, trying to stifle a smile.

You giggled, leaning down to kiss his cheek, unable to resist teasing him one last time. "Maybe not for you... but I find it pretty adorable."

“Adorable? Last time you said it was hot,” Spencer pouted, his expression turning to one of mortification as the realization hit him. “Oh my god, I’ve done this twice. Maybe I am a virgin.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your heart melting for him. Leaning in, you kissed him gently, hoping to ease his mind and distract him from his embarrassment. “It’s hot and adorable, Spence,” you whispered against his lips, your tone soft and reassuring. “And, trust me, very flattering.”

But Spencer still looked unsure, his brows knitting together in uncertainty. You could see his mind working, trying to make sense of it, and you knew he wasn’t fully convinced just yet.

With a sultry smile, you leaned in closer, your breath warm against his ear. “Do you want to see how hot I find it? How hot I find you?” Your voice dripped with desire, and Spencer’s breath hitched, his eyes widening as he nodded dumbly, ready and willing to follow your lead.

You took his hand in yours, guiding it down the front of your sleep shorts, pressing his fingers against the undeniable evidence of your arousal. His eyes widened even more as he felt just how wet you were for him, his lips parting in a quiet gasp.

“That’s how much I liked it,” you whispered, watching his reaction closely. Spencer’s mouth fell open, his fingers instinctively pressing deeper, causing a soft moan to escape your lips.

“Oh wow, wow, you're really wet,” Spencer said in awe, his voice full of innocent surprise.

You let out a soft laugh, biting your lip as you ground down on his hand. “I know, baby. You really turn me on.”

His eyes widened even more, his mouth dropping open as he took in the full extent of your arousal. “No, you’re soaking my hand, darling,” he murmured, the way he said that sending shivers down your spine.

A moan slipped from your lips as you instinctively ground down on his fingers, seeking more friction. “Oh fuck,” Spencer breathed, his eyes dark with lust. “Are you riding my hand?”

You nodded, dazed and overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through you. His fingers stayed inside, moving ever so slightly as you rocked your hips, riding him. The sensation was too much and not enough all at once, and the sound of his breathless voice only made you want more.

Spencer’s eyes flicked back and forth between your face and where his hand disappeared into your shorts, mesmerized by the sight and the sounds you were making. "I can't believe I'm making you feel this good," he whispered, more to himself than to you, the awe in his voice making you shudder in delight.

“Spence, this feels so good, my god, but… my knees are cramping,” you complained breathlessly, your body trembling from the sensation.

Without missing a beat, Spencer immediately pulled his hand away, giving you the space to move. You let out a soft whine at the sudden loss, and he smirked down at you. “Well, do you want to move or not?”

Rolling your eyes, you climbed off his lap and sprawled out on the couch, looking up at him expectantly. You were ready for whatever came next, your body still humming with anticipation. But Spencer did something completely unexpected.

Instead of wiping his hand off, as you had assumed he would, you watched as his gaze flickered down to the wetness covering his fingers. His brows furrowed slightly in curiosity, as if he were studying it. Before you could say anything, Spencer did the unfathomable—he brought his fingers to his mouth, slowly sliding them past his lips.

A deep, low moan escaped him as he tasted you, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as if he were savoring the taste.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, absolutely floored by the sight. Your heart raced, heat rushing through your body as you watched him, your own arousal building even higher. You couldn’t believe how much this innocent man was making you lose control.

“Fuck,” Spencer murmured when he finally pulled his now-clean fingers from his mouth, his eyes dark with lust. “You taste amazing.”

The look on your face must have been one of pure shock because Spencer quickly followed up with a concerned, “Was that okay?”

You didn’t even hesitate. “Shut up right now and kiss me,” you said, your voice urgent and breathless.

Without missing a beat, Spencer leaned down, crashing his lips onto yours. The kiss was electric, fueled by the raw intensity of the moment. You could taste yourself faintly on his lips, which only made you hungrier for him. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and Spencer let out a low groan as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing against yours as if he couldn’t get enough.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this level of desire, but with Spencer, everything felt heightened, like every touch and every kiss was sending shockwaves through you.

This was the filthiest, sloppiest, most passionate kiss either of you had ever shared with anyone. The intensity was palpable, your bodies pressed together so tightly it felt as though there wasn’t enough room in the world to contain the desire between you. You couldn’t get enough, your hands tugging at Spencer’s hair, sliding under his shirt to scratch his back, pinching his nipples, reveling in the way he responded—moaning into your mouth, his own hands gripping you with a hunger that mirrored yours.

It was hard to tell how long you kissed—minutes or hours, time seemed to blur—but eventually, Spencer pulled back, gasping for breath, his chest heaving. His eyes roamed over you, taking in the sight of your hair spread out like a halo on the couch, your chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, your eyes darkened with lust and, though neither of you had said it yet, a glimmer of what could only be described as love.

“Darling,” he panted, his voice rough and thick with need, “can we go to your bed? I want to treat you this time.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You were up in a flash, pulling your beautiful, sweet boyfriend with you, his hand wrapped in yours as you rushed toward your bedroom. You’d never moved so fast in your life, eager for what was to come, for the pleasure he promised.

Once in the bedroom, Spencer's hands wasted no time. He immediately tugged your shorts and underwear down, discarding them in a flash before pulling off your shirt with the same eagerness, leaving you completely bare before him. His eyes roamed over you with pure admiration, awe evident in every part of his expression.

“Did you get more beautiful?” he asked breathlessly, the sincerity of the compliment making you feel flushed.

You playfully slapped his chest, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Shut up,” you teased, leaning up to kiss him as your hands found the hem of his T-shirt, pulling it over his head. But just as you reached for his pants, Spencer gently pushed you back down onto the bed.

“This is about you, my love.”

The words hung in the air, sweet and heavy with meaning. My love. It was new, but it felt right—natural, even. Before you could respond, Spencer pushed you onto the bed and lowered himself to your chest, his lips closing around one of your nipples. His mouth was soft, tender, at first, but then you felt his teeth sink in, sharp enough to make you gasp, a promise of the mark he was leaving behind.

Your back arched, pressing your body further into him, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as you lost yourself in the feel of him—of his mouth, his hands, his love.

Spencer’s mouth continued its exploration, alternating between your breasts and sending warm pulses of pleasure through your body. His attention to detail was incredible, every touch, every kiss feeling like a deliberate act of worship. He took his time, caressing you as though you were the most delicate and precious thing in the world. The intimacy of it all overwhelmed you, a mixture of tenderness and building desire swirling inside.

When his soft kisses finally began to descend down your stomach, a light giggle escaped your lips—it tickled, playful and gentle. But that laughter vanished the moment his lips found your inner thigh, sucking a mark into your sensitive skin. Spencer’s large hands gripped your thighs, spreading them open wide for him, his touch reverent but firm.

“Spen—Spencer,” you panted, glancing down at him. His big, beautiful brown eyes met yours, glazed with determination and lust, but also something tender. He kept his gaze locked on you as he kissed along your thigh, making your breath hitch. "Have you... done this before?"

He paused, releasing your thigh from his mouth with a small, almost playful pop. “No,” he admitted honestly, “but I have read plenty about the acts of cunnilingus, and I think I will be able to satisfy you. As long as you communicate with me, okay?”

The honesty in his voice, the seriousness of his intent, sent another wave of heat rushing through you. Spencer reached for one of your hands, which had been gripping the sheets so tightly. He held it gently, reassuring you, grounding you. You nodded eagerly, your breath coming out in shallow pants, giving him permission to continue.

And without further hesitation, Spencer dove back in, his kisses now dangerously close to your core. The anticipation was electrifying, and you could already tell—he was going to be good at this. Very good.

And good he was. The second Spencer's tongue touched you, it was like fireworks exploded behind your eyes, sending electricity shooting through your veins. The intensity of it all nearly overwhelmed you, especially when you heard his voice, low and mumbled against you. 

“Eyes on me,” he said, the words vibrating against you.

You forced your eyes open and looked down, the sight nearly sending you over the edge. Spencer, his head buried between your legs, met your gaze with intense eye contact as his tongue continued to explore you. The sensation, paired with the way he moaned into you, made your whole body tremble. It was impossible to deny how much he enjoyed it, the way he tasted you straight from the source, his pleasure evident in every sound and movement.

As phenomenal as it was, you still craved more stimulation. And Spencer had asked you to communicate, so you squeezed his hand, your voice shaky. “Baby?”

He hummed into you, the vibration making you whine and twitch involuntarily. “Can you... unghh—can you find the clit?”

Spencer chuckled softly, clearly amused but also eager to show that his knowledge wasn’t just theoretical. Almost immediately, he hit the target, causing your body to jerk at the sudden burst of pleasure.

“Go–good,” you gasped, your voice thick with need. “Now suck.”

And he did.

Spencer didn't need to be told twice. The second you asked, he focused his attention on your clit, enveloping it gently between his lips. A low moan escaped his throat, vibrating against you as he began to suck softly, testing the waters. Your body jolted at the sensation, your back arching as an involuntary gasp tore through you.

"Yes, just like that..." you whispered breathlessly, your grip tightening on his hand, the other fisting the sheets as waves of pleasure rolled through you. It was overwhelming in the best way, and Spencer wasn’t just doing well—he was doing phenomenally. His tongue flicked and swirled as if with practiced precision, the moans he let out making everything ten times more intense.

You could feel yourself getting closer, the tension building rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter in your core. Every flick of his tongue, every pull of his lips was bringing you higher, faster. It was as if he knew exactly what you needed, and the connection between you both in this moment felt almost sacred.

Your legs began to tremble, and your breathing grew more erratic. "Spence, I’m—oh my god, I'm so close," you whimpered, your hand instinctively moving to tangle in his hair, gripping tight as the pleasure threatened to push you over the edge.

Spencer hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes still locked onto yours, unwavering, making the moment even more intense. His grip on your hand tightened as if encouraging you to let go, to surrender to the pleasure completely.

And when his tongue applied just the right amount of pressure, his lips sucking gently but firmly on your clit, that tension finally snapped. Your body convulsed, a guttural moan escaping you as the orgasm crashed over you, waves of ecstasy leaving you trembling and gasping for air.

"That's it," Spencer murmured, his voice low and raspy, sounding both proud and a little in awe as he watched you unravel under him.

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, looking down at him with a dazed smile. He hadn't pulled away yet, still gently caressing your sensitive skin with the softest of kisses, making sure you were coming down from your high as gently as possible.

“Spencer...” you managed to breathe out, your voice a mix of disbelief and pure satisfaction. You hadn’t thought it possible, but he had completely exceeded your expectations.

He grinned up at you, his mouth still glistening with evidence of your release. “I guess the reading paid off, huh?” he teased, his voice full of affection and just a hint of smugness.

You chuckled weakly, your whole body still tingling with aftershocks. "Oh, it definitely paid off..."

“Earth to Y/N,” Spencer teased, coming up beside you, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. His warm breath tickled your skin as he added with a soft laugh, “Are you alright?”

You blinked out of your daze, still recovering from the incredible experience, and turned to look at him with wide, astonished eyes. “Anytime you need a study buddy," you said, your voice filled with awe, "anytime, you call me."

Spencer chuckled, his cheeks tinged pink as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "I'll keep that in mind," he replied with a wink.

After you returned to earth, Spencer gently helped you up and led you to the bathroom, drawing a warm, soothing bath. He carefully eased you both into the tub, your back resting against his chest, the comforting warmth of the water surrounding you. The intimacy of the moment was in the simplicity of it—just the two of you, cocooned in the peaceful, quiet space.

As you both settled in, the conversation flowed naturally, a mix of everything and nothing. Spencer told you more details about his extensive schooling, sharing amusing stories about his early university days, while you, in turn, told him about how you ended up adopting Poof, your beloved cat.

At one point, Spencer furrowed his brow, realizing something. “Speaking of, where is Poof?” he asked, looking around as if your mischievous cat might suddenly appear. “I feel like I haven’t seen him in a while.”

You giggled, your hand absently stroking Spencer's leg beneath the water as you explained. “Oh, he’s become the building cat," you said with affection in your voice. "The townhouses are connected by fire escapes in the back, and Poof likes to explore. He moves back and forth between the different houses. I guess you’ve just been missing him.”

Spencer chuckled softly, resting his chin on your shoulder, clearly intrigued. “A little adventurer, huh? Well, hopefully, I’ll catch him in action one of these days.”

You smiled, leaning back more into him, feeling completely at ease as the two of you basked in the comfortable rhythm of your conversation and the quiet warmth of the water.

—

Spencer sat stiffly in the chair across from Chief Strauss’ desk, his hands folded in his lap as he waited for whatever new torment she had in store for him. He was sure his tests were clean, they always were. But he also knew Strauss had been gunning for him for years now, and this meeting was likely just another way to shake him down, to keep him on edge.

As he stared at the piles of neatly stacked papers on her desk, Strauss held up a finger, signaling for him to wait as she answered an incoming call. Spencer huffed internally, trying to push down the frustration bubbling up inside him. But when she answered the phone, something about her tone caught his attention.

"Chief Strauss," she said, her voice all business at first, but then, to Spencer’s shock, a smile broke out across her face. "Oh, hi, Red, how are you, dear?"

Spencer’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing slightly. Red? It couldn’t be…could it? His mind raced, desperately trying to make sense of it. The name, the affectionate tone—it sounded eerily similar to the nickname you had mentioned your aunt called you. But that was just a coincidence, right? 

Strauss continued her conversation, oblivious to Spencer’s sudden change in demeanor. "Yes, yes, of course. I’ll make sure it gets done. Oh, and how is little Poof doing?"

Spencer's heart stopped. Poof? No. There was no way this could be a coincidence now. His mind raced as he pieced it together. Red … Poof …Your aunt. His eyes widened in realization, but he kept his face neutral, trying not to betray the wave of shock crashing over him.

Strauss glanced at him briefly as she continued her conversation, still smiling. Spencer's thoughts were spinning. Was your aunt Erin Strauss?

Spencer was spiraling, his mind whirling with disbelief as Chief Strauss hung up the phone, turning her attention back to him. He was trying to maintain composure, but it was like everything around him was crumbling. She had called you Red. She had mentioned Poof. It was all too much.

“So, Reid,” Strauss began, clasping her hands on the desk in front of her. Her tone shifted back to business. “How have you been managing? With the recovery, I mean. I understand the tests have been clean, but I want to know how you’re really doing.”

Spencer’s jaw tightened. His nerves were already shot, and now with this revelation about you weighing on him, he couldn’t hold back. His voice came out sharper than he intended.

“Why does it even matter?” Spencer snapped, glaring at her. “You’ve been waiting for me to slip up, to fail. You never believed in my recovery from the start.”

Strauss raised an eyebrow, her expression hardening. "I’m trying to protect you, Reid, as much as I’m trying to protect others from you."

Spencer's stomach twisted. “Protect me? From what exactly? You’ve been gunning for me ever since I admitted to my addiction. You hate me.” His voice shook, his frustration bubbling over.

Strauss took a deep breath, her face softening, but her words cut deep. "I don’t hate you, Spencer. But I know what addiction can do to a person, to a family."

Spencer narrowed his eyes, his voice thick with suspicion. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"My sister and her husband," Strauss said, her voice wavering slightly, "they died from drugs. Overdosed. My niece is an addict too, lost to us."

Spencer felt a chill wash over him, and his voice dropped as he asked, "Y/N’s parents?"

Strauss swallowed thickly, nodding, her eyes momentarily flicking away from his. "Yes. And do you think I’m going to stand by and watch her get hurt again? Watch another person she cares about spiral into that life?" Her gaze locked back onto Spencer’s, now filled with a fierce determination. "No, Spencer. I’m not going to let you ruin her life like her father did."

The words hit Spencer like a physical blow, leaving him breathless. His heart raced, anger and guilt twisting together painfully in his chest. This threat—Strauss’s belief that he was a danger to you, that his history with addiction made him a risk—was like a punch to the gut.

"I’m not him," Spencer whispered, his voice barely audible. His hands clenched into fists on his lap. "I’m not going to hurt her."

Strauss’s gaze softened slightly, but her tone remained firm. "I hope you’re right, Reid. But I can’t afford to take chances when it comes to her. Not after everything she’s been through. So, yes, the drug tests stay. And if I see one misstep, I won’t hesitate to remove you from this team, or from her life."

Spencer felt his anger boil over, his fists clenched as he leaned forward in the chair. “You can’t stop me from seeing her, we’re both adults. You have no right to interfere.”

Strauss leaned back in her chair, calm in the face of his anger. Her voice was low, but it cut through the room with precision. “Does she know about your addiction, Spencer?”

The question hung in the air like a ticking time bomb, and Spencer froze. His face told her everything she needed to know—he hadn’t told you. 

Strauss’s lips curled slightly, not in triumph but in grim acknowledgment. “Then you better not mess up,” she said, her voice cold and menacing.

Spencer stood up abruptly, the air feeling suffocating in her office. He was furious—not just with Strauss, but with himself. He knew he’d been holding something back from you, just as you had from him. He hadn’t told you about his past, hadn’t opened up about his addiction, the demons he fought to keep buried. And now he was in this twisted position, where your aunt knew more about him than you did.

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair.

He stormed out of Strauss’s office, his heart racing, feeling cornered in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. He was upset that you hadn’t told him who your aunt was, hadn’t trusted him with that part of your life. But deep down, he knew he was no better. He had held back too—out of fear, out of shame.

As he left the building and stepped out into the cold air, Spencer’s mind whirled. He had to talk to you. He had to come clean before everything unraveled. You both deserved the truth.

—

You knocked on Spencer’s door that evening, a bottle of wine tucked under your arm and a loaf of fresh French bread in your hand. You’d spent the afternoon preparing his favorite pasta dish, hoping for a quiet, cozy night together after the busy week you both had. When Spencer opened the door, you gave him a warm smile.

“Hey, baby,” you greeted, leaning up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. 

But the look on Spencer’s face made your heart drop. His eyes were dark, his expression serious. The atmosphere was heavy, and you could tell immediately that something was wrong. 

“When were you going to tell me that Strauss is your aunt?” he asked, his voice steady but laced with frustration. 

You froze, the smile fading from your face. “What?”

“I found out today,” Spencer continued, stepping aside to let you in but not looking at you. “From her, actually. I thought... I thought we were being honest with each other.”

You sighed, setting down the wine and bread on his kitchen counter, turning to face him. “Spence, I was going to tell you. I just… I got scared.”

“Scared of what?” His eyes searched yours, looking for an explanation that could make this better, that could ease the confusion and frustration swirling in his mind.

You ran a hand through your hair, fidgeting slightly. “Scared because you work for her. I didn’t want things to get complicated or messy between you two. I didn’t want you to think I was keeping it from you on purpose.”

Spencer’s face softened slightly as he processed your words, but he still didn’t seem fully convinced. “Why wouldn’t you just tell me, though? I wouldn’t have cared about who your aunt is, I care about you.”

You took a deep breath, stepping closer to him, reaching for his hands. “I know, Spencer. I know. I just… I didn’t want things to get weird at work for you. And honestly, I didn’t know how to bring it up. I’ve been afraid of how it might change things, I didn’t want to add more stress.”

Spencer’s shoulders relaxed a little as he listened to your explanation. He squeezed your hands, a silent gesture of understanding. He could see the sincerity in your eyes, the hesitation that wasn’t born out of deceit but out of fear of complicating things for both of you. 

“I get it,” Spencer said softly after a moment. “I just… I don’t want us to keep things from each other. It’s important to me that we’re open.”

You nodded, squeezing his hands back. “I promise. No more secrets.”

Spencer smiled slightly, his frustration easing. He let out a deep breath, feeling the tension leave his body. For a moment, he considered telling you about his past—about the addiction, the drug tests, everything that Strauss had thrown at him earlier. But when he looked into your eyes, remembering the way you spoke about your family, the raw pain in your voice, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not yet. He didn’t want to burden you with it, not when things were finally starting to feel right between you.

“Let’s just... enjoy dinner,” Spencer finally said, a small smile playing on his lips as he pulled you closer into a hug. “I’m sorry for bringing it up like that. I should’ve waited.”

You sighed in relief, burying your face in his chest. “No, I’m glad you did. I don’t want to keep anything from you either.”

You both held each other for a moment longer, letting the tension fade as the warmth of your embrace brought back a sense of normalcy. Spencer kissed the top of your head before stepping back and heading into the kitchen, ready to move forward, even if some things were still left unsaid—for now.

—

Just a few weeks later, Spencer finally had a full weekend off, he decided it was the perfect opportunity for a little getaway. He packed up everything—yourself, Poof, and plenty of supplies—and whisked you away to a cozy Airbnb nestled by the lake. 

You could hardly contain your excitement, bubbling over at the thought of spending uninterrupted time with your two favorite guys. Spencer had asked you to drive while he took charge of navigation, and the car ride was nothing short of a delight. 

“Turn left here, darling,” Spencer instructed with an air of confidence.

"Are you sure it’s not right?" you teased, feigning confusion as you gripped the wheel.

Spencer let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head with mock exasperation. “I’m positive. I do have an eidetic memory, you know.”

“Well, if we get lost, I’m holding that memory of yours accountable!” you shot back playfully, a smile spreading across both your faces.

When you finally pulled up to the lake house, you couldn't help but gasp. It was picturesque—a beautiful, quaint cabin surrounded by towering trees, with the glistening lake stretching out in the background. 

The look of pride on Spencer’s face at your reaction made your heart swell. You were completely and utterly in love. As you stood there, taking in the stunning view and the sheer thoughtfulness of his planning, you felt like this weekend was the right moment to finally tell him how you truly felt.

That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you and Spencer moved seamlessly through the cozy kitchen, putting together the perfect comfort meal of grilled cheese and tomato soup. Poof danced happily around your feet, always at the ready for any fallen scraps. The two of you playfully bumped hips, stole soup-covered kisses, and teased each other in the warm glow of the cabin’s lights.

After dinner, which was full of laughter and mock arguments over who could make the better grilled cheese, you cleared the table together, setting up a chessboard for a battle of wits. You knew Spencer was a prodigy, but still, you had hope. The first few rounds were... well, an obvious defeat. But then, to your surprise, you managed to win. Once. Twice. And then three times in a row! What you didn’t know was that Spencer was letting you win, his resolve crumbling at the sight of your frustrated pout. He’d pretend to mull over a move for far longer than needed, before “accidentally” making a poor choice that would lead to your victory.

Eventually, you’d had enough of the mental sparring, and Spencer’s kisses grew softer and deeper. Together, you moved outside to the wooden deck, wrapped up under a blanket, the stars reflecting in the lake’s glassy surface. The night air was crisp and fresh, a gentle breeze brushing your cheeks as you cuddled closer. 

Spencer pointed upward, tracing his finger along the sky, excitedly talking about constellations, their names, and the myths behind them. But you weren’t looking at the stars—your eyes were on him, captivated by the way his face glowed in the moonlight, his passion lighting up every word he spoke.

Without thinking, feeling overwhelmed by the moment and the deep love that filled your chest, you whispered, “I love you.”

The words felt like they hung in the air, sparkling and true under the canopy of stars.

Spencer’s face lit up as he tilted down toward you, and in that moment, it seemed as if the stars had all come to rest in his eyes, twinkling brightly with wonder and adoration. His voice was soft but filled with an almost childlike excitement, the kind reserved for a Christmas morning surprise, “Really?”

“Really,” you assured him, voice steady, your gaze never wavering from his, allowing the truth of your feelings to shine through. 

He swallowed, searching your eyes as if trying to imprint every detail of this moment into his mind. “You love me?” he asked again, needing the confirmation, the words sounding so surreal to him.

“I love you, Spencer Walter Reid,” you declared, each word measured and intentional, and you watched as joy transformed his features, his eyes closing briefly in overwhelming happiness.

The next thing you felt was Spencer’s lips on yours, pressing gently at first, the kiss filled with all the tenderness and unspoken words you’d both kept hidden until now. It was sweet, slow, and beautiful, and you could feel Spencer trembling slightly, as if holding back everything he wanted to say with his lips alone. He pulled back just a breath, letting his forehead rest on yours as he whispered with a trembling smile, “I love you too.”

And then he dove back in for more—kisses deeper, breaths heavier. Your hands tangled in his hair, his fingers tracing the contours of your back, pressing you closer until there was no space left between you. What started as slow and sweet quickly turned heated, and Spencer’s kisses grew hungrier, his tongue tasting every part of your mouth, his hands wandering further down.

It was only when you felt the cool night air on your exposed skin that you giggled and gently pulled back, breathing heavily against his lips. “We’re outside, baby,” you murmured, your voice a mix of breathlessness and warning.

Spencer hummed, the sound vibrating through his chest, and with a playful smirk, he pulled you to your feet, not letting your lips part from his. “Then we’d better get inside,” he said, his voice low and urgent, the promise of more lingering in the air as he led you toward the warmth of the cabin, hands intertwined, the night just beginning.

As you were guided along by Spencer's eager hand, your laughter filled the small cabin, echoing off the wooden beams of the cozy bedroom. The room itself was warm, glowing with the soft hues of amber light from the fireplace, its crackling flames adding to the perfect atmosphere. The bed looked irresistibly inviting, its blankets perfectly rumpled in a way that made you want to dive right in. But what really made the room perfect was Spencer—his face lighting up in a way you’d rarely seen before, his exaggerated wink playful and filled with the purest joy. 

When Spencer sat on the edge of the bed and stretched his arms out for you, you wasted no time stepping into his embrace, your body molding perfectly into the space between his legs as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning into the warmth of him. He buried his face in your chest, his voice muffled but filled with emotion as he mumbled, “I love you so much.”

You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head as you teased softly, “I love you more.”

Spencer shook his head immediately, hair brushing your chin and sending little shivers down your spine. “Not possible,” he declared, his voice firm, like he was making a statement that was undeniable.

“Oh, I don’t know, baby,” you taunted lightly, trying to stifle the grin that was spreading across your face. But Spencer pulled back, his eyes locking with yours in a way that made you feel like the only person in the world. 

A look of challenge danced across his features, his brows lifting as he quirked a smirk at you. “You don’t believe me?” he asked, voice deepening with a teasing edge.

You shook your head, biting your lip to keep from laughing, a playful glint in your eyes. And in a flash, Spencer’s face morphed into one of mischievous determination. “Oh, you little—” he began, his voice dripping with affectionate frustration as he quickly flipped your positions, pushing you back onto the bed and towering over you.

“Spencer!” you squealed in laughter, propping yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him as he tossed his shirt aside without a second thought, revealing his smooth chest. He leaned over you, caging you in with his arms on either side of your head, and his face was so close you could feel the warmth of his breath fanning across your lips.

“Shh,” he whispered with a smirk, “I have to show you how much I love you.” And with those words, you knew that every second of this weekend together would be filled with a love so fierce, so genuine, that it was going to be impossible not to fall for him all over again.

Spencer's mouth moved eagerly down your neck, his lips trailing soft, warm kisses that made your skin tingle in their wake. He nipped at your earlobe, tugging it gently between his teeth, and the sensation drew a light, breathy moan from you, your back arching ever so slightly into him. The sound seemed to spur him on, and he continued his descent, pausing to suck gently on your pulse point as his hands explored your sides, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your waist.

When his hands found the hem of your top, he slowly pushed it upward, his palms grazing your ribs, sending shivers through you. You let out a sigh, already feeling yourself melt under his touch, and obediently raised your arms so he could remove the fabric entirely, leaving you bare from the waist up. Spencer's eyes darkened with desire, and you could see the way his lips parted slightly as he took you in, your form illuminated by the soft glow of the room.

“No bra?” he asked, a teasing edge to his voice, though his gaze was nothing short of reverent as it roved over your body. One brow quirked up in curiosity, his lips twitching in a smirk.

You laughed, a breathy, contented sound, shrugging as you met his gaze. “I’m on vacation.”

Spencer's smirk widened, and he nosed his way down between your breasts, inhaling deeply as if savoring your scent. His lips brushed against your skin in a whisper of a kiss. “I knew it was a good idea bringing you here,” he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with want and affection. 

And as he continued his exploration of your body with his mouth and hands, you were filled with warmth and a sense of belonging, knowing that this was exactly where you were meant to be—with him.

The sensation of Spencer’s mouth on your skin sent sparks throughout your body, your breath hitching as his lips closed around your nipple, sucking gently. You arched your back instinctively, pressing yourself closer to his mouth, wanting more, needing more. He hummed contentedly, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure right through you. 

His tongue swirled around the sensitive bud, switching between flicking and gentle sucking that had you gripping the sheets beneath you, your fingers twisting into the soft fabric as your eyes fluttered shut. Every movement was slow, deliberate, and filled with devotion, as if he was determined to savor every second of your pleasure. 

As he worshiped your breast, his free hand trailed down your side, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, fingers feather-light against your skin. You could feel the warmth of his touch through the thin fabric of your shorts, and when his fingers brushed the waistband, your hips bucked upward, desperate for more contact. 

Spencer’s lips left your breast with a soft pop, his breath warm and ragged as he whispered against your skin, “You taste so good... I could do this forever.”

His words, filled with awe and passion, made you moan in response, threading your fingers through his hair and holding him close to you. And you didn't want him to stop; you wanted every touch, every kiss, every second of his attention to be on you, completely and utterly lost in the moment together.

Spencer’s lips found yours again, kissing you deeply, hungrily, as if he was trying to pour all the love he felt into every brush and caress. You sighed into his mouth, your own hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, if that was even possible. And then, as if reading your mind, you felt his hand venture downward, fingers slipping under the waistband of your bottoms, and you gasped at the intimate touch, the sensation so electric it made your toes curl.

“Fuck,” Spencer breathed against your lips, his voice heavy with awe and desire. “You’re so wet.”

The sound of his voice saying those words sent a shiver straight through your core, and you whined softly, squirming under his touch, desperate for more. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking his fingers, trying to guide him where you needed him most. “Spence, baby,” you whined again, your voice breathy and pleading as you pressed kisses to his jaw, “please...”

His eyes met yours, dark and full of hunger, and he gave you a little smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Tell me what you need, darling,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over yours as his fingers teased just outside your lips, keeping you on the edge of wanting. “Let me hear you say it.”

Your breath hitched, his teasing making you ache with longing. “I need you, Spence,” you whispered, voice trembling. “I need you to touch me, please.” 

He hummed approvingly against your mouth, giving you a tender kiss before letting his fingers dip down, finally giving you what you so desperately craved. His touch was slow, deliberate, but his eyes never left yours, wanting to see every reaction as his fingers entered you.

You had anticipated the gentle, lingering touches from the last time, but Spencer had other plans. The tenderness was gone in an instant, replaced by an urgent, almost primal need to make you fall apart in his hands. The pace he set was relentless—his fingers moved in and out of you hard and fast, pushing deeper each time, and the sensation of his palm rubbing against you with every thrust was electrifying.

“Spencer—oh god!” you cried out, gripping the sheets beneath you in a white-knuckled grasp. He wasn’t just touching you—he was consuming you, each movement of his hand pulling you closer and closer to the edge, a chaotic frenzy that left you breathless. Every stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, leaving you trembling beneath him.

His lips crashed against yours in a hungry kiss, all tongue and teeth, as he groaned into your mouth. “I love watching you like this,” he whispered against your lips before sucking on your lower one, his voice a low, heady drawl. “Falling apart on my fingers...”

The overwhelming sensation of Spencer’s fingers moving within you, the roughness of his palm pressing against you just right with every thrust, made you see stars. Your back arched off the bed, desperate for more, nails digging into his back, dragging red lines down his skin. You could barely speak, your words spilling out in choked, breathless cries. “Spencer—fuck—”

He leaned down, his mouth right at your ear, his breath hot as he spoke, voice dripping with husky intensity. “Does that feel good, baby?”

You nodded fervently, unable to form coherent words as you surrendered to the relentless pleasure. “Uh huh,” you managed to pant out, a whimper escaping your lips as your hips bucked wildly to meet the rhythm of his hand. 

His grin was wicked as he watched you unravel beneath him, knowing exactly how his touch was driving you to the edge. His fingers never faltered, pushing deeper and faster, and the friction of his palm rubbing against your sensitive skin was enough to make you tremble. “I can feel you tightening up around me,” he murmured, voice low and dripping with lust. “Are you gonna come for me, love?”

You let out a desperate, needy moan, the pressure building to an unbearable peak, and all you could do was nod frantically, your eyes squeezing shut as the coil inside you tightened, ready to snap. “Yes, yes, I’m—I'm so close—”

You felt dizzy with the rush of it all, the world around you spinning as he drove you further toward that cliff of pure, euphoric release. You weren't sure how long you could hold out; your body felt on fire, the pleasure bordering on overwhelming. Each breath was a gasp, each moan louder than the last, and all you could think about was how badly you needed to fall over that edge. “Spence—I’m gonna—I can’t—”

“That’s it,” he encouraged, his voice rough and laced with raw desire. “Let go, Y/N. Come for me, right now.” His pace quickened even further, and you knew you wouldn’t last a second longer. And you didn’t, completely unraveling at his words, your body arching up into his as waves of pleasure surged through you. Your moans filled the room, raw and unrestrained, and he never stopped, his fingers working you through the intensity of your release.

You trembled beneath him, your legs shaking as the last waves of your orgasm washed over you. Spencer looked at you, eyes filled with pride and wonder, like he’d never seen anything more beautiful than you coming undone because of him.

Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, gently caressing your trembling thighs as you caught your breath. He brought his fingers to his mouth, his eyes locked on yours as he cleaned them off with his tongue, tasting you again. The sight sent a renewed thrill through you, and all you could do was reach up and pull him down for a hungry kiss, needing to feel him against you, to taste yourself on his lips.

“Thought you couldn’t finish like that?” Spencer teased, his voice low and playful, recalling the first time he'd touched you like this.

You let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head in pure bliss. “I didn’t think I could,” you admitted with a grin. Then, in a teasing tone, you added, “Have you been practicing? Should I be worried?”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed a deep pink, and he quickly looked away, suddenly bashful. “N-nope. I just—uh, did some... research.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hold back another laugh as you saw the shyness in his eyes. “Research, huh?” you asked, leaning in closer. “What kind of research, Doctor? Did you... watch porn?”

Spencer’s blush deepened, and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Maybe... a little,” he admitted in a soft mumble. “But only to—to learn, for you,” he added quickly, his eyes meeting yours with genuine sincerity.

You couldn't help but laugh softly, a warm, affectionate sound as you reached out to run your fingers through his hair. “Oh, my sweet genius,” you teased gently, cupping his face and turning him back to look at you. “You did all that research just for me? That’s so... adorable.”

His eyes finally met yours, a mixture of pride and lingering shyness in his expression. “It worked, then?” he asked cautiously, almost as if he needed reassurance.

“Oh, it definitely worked,” you replied, grinning widely before leaning in to kiss him sweetly. “And for the record,” you murmured against his lips, “if you want to keep up the research, I’m all for it.”

Spencer chuckled softly, his earlier nerves melting away as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. “In that case,” he said, a playful gleam in his eye, “I have a few more things I could show you.”

“Oh yeah?” you teased back, raising an eyebrow and grinning. “Whatcha got for me, big boy?”

The nickname made him blush a deep pink, but he just rolled his eyes in that familiar, affectionate way before letting his hands roam down to your hips. With gentle care, he slipped off your bottoms, leaving you bare before him. You stayed silent, feeling a mixture of excitement and anticipation flood through you as Spencer stood and began to remove the rest of his clothes.

The moment his pants came off, you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips, your eyes widening at the sight before you. “Spence?” you breathed out, your voice filled with both surprise and desire.

He grinned sheepishly, clearly trying to play it cool, but you could see the boyish excitement behind his eyes. Then, as if remembering something important, he reached down into his pants pocket and pulled out a small foil packet, holding it up with a charming smile and revealing a condom.

“I thought... I’m ready,” he said, his voice steady but filled with tenderness.

Your smile softened at his words, and you felt your heart swell with warmth and affection. “Yeah?” you replied sweetly, opening your arms to him. “I’m ready too.”

Spencer crawled back onto the bed, moving into your embrace, his body fitting perfectly against yours. His breath was warm against your skin as he leaned in closer, and with so much love in his voice, he whispered, “I want you to be my first.”

Your hand caressed his cheek, your thumb gently brushing against his soft skin. “Hopefully your last too,” you whispered back, sealing your words with a deep, passionate kiss, your bodies melting together under the glow of the soft lamplight.

“Do you need help putting the condom on, baby?” you asked, your voice sweet and full of kindness.

Spencer's cheeks flushed a light pink as he shook his head. “I, uh, I might have practiced,” he admitted sheepishly.

You couldn’t help but giggle, your heart swelling with even more affection. “How is it possible to keep loving you more and more every second?” you asked, the sincerity clear in your voice.

Spencer chuckled, leaning in to kiss you deeply, letting his lips linger against yours for a moment before he pulled back. He focused intently on rolling the condom on, and you found the way he bit his tongue in concentration absolutely endearing. It was a small detail, but it only made you fall deeper for him. 

When he finished, he looked back up at you, his eyes filled with that gentle, earnest love you’d come to know so well. “How do you want me?” you asked softly, wanting to make this perfect for him, for both of you.

Spencer’s gaze softened even more, and his hand came up to brush a strand of hair away from your face. “Just like this,” he murmured, his voice low and full of warmth. “I want to see you, all of you.”

You gave him a reassuring smile, opening your legs and wrapping them around his waist, pulling him closer. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you, your bodies close and your hearts even closer.

As Spencer’s tip teased through your slick folds, you couldn't help but let out a high, keening sound, the sensation electrifying. Spencer’s own response was a low groan, the vibration of his voice adding to the intensity between you. 

His brow furrowed slightly as he tried to keep control, feeling how ready you were for him. “I’m... probably not going to last long,” he admitted, his voice laced with nervousness and excitement.

You reached up to cup his cheek, pulling his gaze to yours, offering the softest smile. “I don’t care, Spence,” you said, your voice steady and full of love. “I just want to be with you.”

Spencer’s eyes softened even more, and he nodded, more to himself than to you, as if to reassure his own nerves. Slowly, carefully, he lined himself up, and with a gentle, deep breath, he began to push in. 

The feeling was overwhelming for both of you — he was entranced by the heat and tightness enveloping him, and you were spellbound by the fullness of having him inside you for the first time. You both let out soft gasps, your hands finding his as you squeezed tightly, tethering each other through the rush of emotion and sensation. 

He paused for a moment, buried to the hilt, his forehead resting against yours as you both breathed together, as one. “You feel… unbelievable,” he whispered, his voice full of wonder, as if he couldn't believe this was really happening.

“Fuck, baby, I’ve never been this full,” you moaned, your voice thick with pleasure and awe at the way he stretched and filled you so perfectly. 

“Shit, Y/N,” Spencer groaned, his hips already making shallow, instinctual thrusts as he tried to hold himself back. “You can’t say that—” he panted, feeling your words shoot straight through him. “This will be over way too fast.” He looked down at you, the flush of his cheeks meeting the pink of his lips, and the way his face was contorted in bliss made you tighten around him. You couldn’t help it. The way he was falling apart so easily was the hottest thing you'd ever seen. 

“Fuck!” he shouted, his control slipping as he pounded a fist into the pillow beside your head, burying his face against your neck for a moment. “Can I—can I move?” His breath was ragged and desperate. “I need to move. Please.”

You nodded frantically, needing him just as much, your hands sliding down his back to grip his hips, urging him to let go. “Fuck me, Spence,” you whispered right against his ear, your voice soft yet commanding. And that was all the permission he needed. 

He started moving, pulling out just enough to feel the drag of your walls before thrusting back in, his rhythm quick and needy. He was lost in the feeling of you, and each movement sent waves of pleasure through both of you, driving him closer to the edge with every stroke.

Spencer’s hips moved steadily, finding a rhythm that left both of you breathless. He surprised himself, really, the way his body instinctively knew how to take care of you, how to give you everything he could in each thrust. The intensity between you built, hot and fast, with every roll of his hips, with every gasp and moan that filled the small, cozy room.

You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, anchoring him to you like you never wanted to let go. Your arms wrapped around his neck, bringing his forehead against yours as the pleasure built between you, the closeness of your bodies only deepening the connection you felt. “I love you,” you whispered right into his ear, your voice trembling as you said the words that were so true and so filled with emotion it made your eyes sting with happy tears.

Spencer’s eyes fluttered shut at your words, his breath hitching before he responded, “I love you too, darling.” And then he kissed you—deeply, passionately, like you were his entire world and nothing else mattered. His lips moved with urgency, soft and fervent, as his pace quickened, thrusting deeper and more desperate, as if he was pouring everything he felt into you, wanting you to feel every bit of his love with each motion. The world outside seemed to fade away, and it was just the two of you, wrapped in love and warmth and the sweetest kind of bliss.

Spencer's mind was racing, but finally, his instincts kicked in, sending him a signal—an idea of exactly what you needed. He wanted to make sure that you felt everything, that he was giving you all the pleasure he could. With a slight adjustment, he pulled back just enough to slide a hand down to where the two of you met, his fingers deftly finding your clit and rubbing in quick, steady circles.

“Oh!” you cried out, your whole body jolting with the sudden burst of pleasure. Your back arched high off the bed, presenting your chest to Spencer like a gift he was eager to receive. Without a moment’s hesitation, his mouth found your breast, wrapping his lips around your nipple and sucking, the combination of sensations sending sparks down to your very core.

The feeling was overwhelming—Spencer’s hips driving into you in a rhythm that felt just right, his fingers working you to the brink, and his mouth hot and wet on your sensitive skin. Your moans filled the room, your fingers burying themselves in his hair, pulling him closer as your entire body trembled, the edge of release so close you could almost taste it.

“Oh my god—oh, god!” you screamed, your voice breaking as the pleasure built to its peak. “Fuck, I’m gonna come!” And then it hit—your core clenched around Spencer with such intensity that he nearly lost his rhythm, almost slipping out of you as your body reached its climax. 

And if Spencer thought you felt amazing before, now? Now, with your release, everything felt heightened, your walls fluttering around him, tightening and then loosening in waves that left him gasping. The slickness of your arousal made every thrust so much easier, so much more electric, that it sent shockwaves through his entire body. It wasn’t long before the overwhelming sensation tipped him over the edge, and his pace grew erratic, desperate, until he reached his own peak.

“Oh, fuck,” he panted, his voice strained with pleasure as he thrust one last time, burying himself as deeply as he could. “Shit, baby, fuck, I—I’m coming,” he stuttered, his eyes squeezing shut as he let go, every muscle in his body tensing before his release washed over him in shuddering waves.

His head fell to the crook of your neck as he finished, holding you close, both of you breathless and trembling in the aftershocks, your bodies slick with sweat and blissed out from the intensity of it all. Spencer stayed there, still buried inside of you, both of you just holding each other in the soft glow of the room, relishing the warmth, the closeness, the love.

The rest of the weekend passed in a blissful haze, wrapped in kisses, long cuddles, and moments of intimacy that made you feel closer than ever. Spencer shared his own stories, some quirky, some heartfelt, while you let him into corners of your past that had remained sealed for years.

One evening, as you were snuggled into his chest, the comforting scent of him surrounding you, you whispered something that had been tugging at the edges of your mind all weekend. “Aunt Erin started the nickname Red…” you murmured, your voice soft against the rise and fall of Spencer’s breathing. He said nothing but tightened his arms around you, letting you know he was listening. 

“But Mom and Dad called me Red too,” you continued, voice cracking slightly at the memories. “For Mom, it was a term of endearment, something she shared with her sister. It felt special... warm.” You paused, taking in a deep breath. “But for Dad… it was manipulative. He used it like some sort of charm, thinking if he called me by a special name, I’d forget everything—the pain, the anger—and welcome him back with open arms.” You swallowed, feeling the lump in your throat. “And then my sister... she started using it too. Only when she needed something—money, a place to crash. For a long time, it was tainted for me, a reminder of everything I wanted to forget.”

Spencer’s thumb stroked soothingly over your arm as you spoke, his quiet presence grounding you. “But you… you revived it for me,” you said finally, looking up into his warm, understanding eyes. “When you call me Red, it feels like it means something good again.” 

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as he whispered, “I’ll always make sure it means something good. I promise.” 

You let out a shaky breath, a mix of relief and contentment washing over you. In that little lakeside haven, all that existed was the two of you and the love you shared—everything else just melted away.

—

The trip was exactly what both of you needed. A chance to unwind, to just be together without the pressures of everyday life. When you returned the next day, Spencer was quick to ask if you could drop Poof off at your place and then come back to his apartment. He claimed it was just in case he got called away for a case in the middle of the night and needed to be near his things. But you knew better—it was really because he loved the way his sheets smelled like you when you were gone.

You didn’t argue, though. After all, the feeling was mutual, and you cherished any excuse to be wrapped up in Spencer’s space. So you made the trip back home, feeding Poof, and then promptly returned to his place to settle in for a relaxed night. The morning came too quickly, and he left for work with a gentle kiss pressed to your forehead and a spare key taped to the fridge with a note: “For whenever you need it. –S.”

Later, after you finally pulled yourself from the cozy bed and began to get ready for your day, you found yourself wandering around Spencer’s apartment, making coffee and searching for your favorite sweatshirt of his—the one that was ridiculously oversized, the one you loved to wrap yourself up in. Usually, it was draped over the back of the couch or hanging near the door, but today it was nowhere to be seen.

Thinking it might have just ended up back in his closet, you made your way there, rummaging through his neatly hung clothes. And there it was, folded on a shelf like it had been waiting for you. You reached for the familiar fabric, feeling the comforting softness in your hands, but as you moved it, something else caught your eye—a small box tucked away behind the stack of sweaters.

Your stomach twisted into knots when you read the label: Dilaudid

No. No, no, no. You felt your blood run cold, and for a moment, you were on autopilot. Hands trembling, you reached for the box and placed it on the bed, the world around you narrowing to just that single object. When you opened the lid, a flurry of papers greeted you—hospital discharge summaries, case files, rehab forms, and NA slips—all bearing Spencer’s name. Each one a piece of a puzzle you didn’t know existed, each one revealing a part of Spencer you had never seen before.

Your breathing grew shallow as you flipped through them, the weight of their contents heavy in your hands, in your heart. You knew what all of this meant; you'd lived through the nightmare of addiction with your own family. And then, as if that wasn’t enough to send your world spiraling, you found it—an unopened needle and a vial of Dilaudid. Enough to kill someone, enough to hurt, enough to drag someone back into the darkness you'd spent your whole life trying to escape.

Your world felt like it had tilted on its axis, everything you knew and trusted suddenly thrown into question. One thing you knew for certain—you couldn’t spend another second in Spencer’s apartment. You needed space to think, and every second you stayed in the apartment, surrounded by the echoes of this newfound reality, the more suffocating it felt. 

Quickly, you collected your things—your bag, your phone, absolutely not the sweatshirt that now felt so wrong to hold—and with a trembling hand, you grabbed the key Spencer had left on the fridge. As you locked the door behind you, a cold finality settled in, but then you just stood there, staring at the little gold key in your hand, paralyzed by indecision.

Do I leave it? Take it? Do I even want to come back here? Could there possibly be a good reason for why Spencer had kept this from me, for why he had hidden this massive part of himself? Your thoughts spiraled, but you couldn’t find a single strand to cling to.

Finally, shaking your head, you made your decision. You slid the key under the door, hearing the tiny scrape of metal on wood as it disappeared into the apartment you had thought was your safe place. And then you ran, down the stairs, through the lobby, to your car. You didn’t let yourself feel anything until you were back in your own home, the door shutting behind you like the closing of a chapter you didn’t know if you could reopen.

Sliding down to the floor, you hugged your knees to your chest and sobbed. All the memories came rushing back—the nights of worry, the fear of losing someone to the relentless pull of addiction, the feeling of not knowing what each day would bring. Even if Spencer wasn’t using now, even if this was something from his past, it didn’t stop the memories of your family from crashing over you like a tidal wave, dragging you under.

Poof, sensing your distress, padded over to you and rubbed his warm body against you, a small comfort in the chaos. He curled up in your lap, purring as you wrapped an arm around him, trying to steady your ragged breathing.

After what felt like hours, when the tears had finally slowed to silent streams, you wanted to call Aunt Erin, to demand answers, to understand. But the thought of telling her how you found out—of potentially risking Spencer’s job and livelihood—made you hesitate. And so you stayed there, on the floor of your apartment, crying softly as Poof purred in your lap, the comforting vibration of his presence the only thing grounding you in that moment.

—

Spencer had been looking forward to this moment all day—the idea of coming home to you, imagining what it would be like to share a space, to fall into that soft domesticity he craved so much. He fumbled with his keys, finally getting the door open, and stepped inside. “Y/N?” he called out, his voice echoing slightly in the empty apartment. No response. Maybe you were napping? “Darling?” he tried again, a little louder this time, hoping to hear your sweet voice drift in from another room.

The silence felt heavy, like something was wrong, but Spencer tried not to jump to conclusions. He wandered to the bedroom to change, figuring he could call you and ask if you were just out running an errand. But when he walked in, he immediately saw it—the box. It sat wide open on the bed, papers scattered as if someone had frantically sifted through it. 

All the air seemed to leave the room in that moment. Spencer’s heart pounded in his chest, each beat heavy and frantic, echoing in his ears as if the walls themselves were closing in. He rushed to the bed, hands shaking as he tried to close the box, to somehow undo what had been done. But it was too late. You had found it. You knew.

Fumbling for his phone, he tried calling you, hand slick with sweat as he pressed your contact and held it to his ear. The line rang, and rang, and rang until your voicemail picked up. “Hey, it’s Y/N, leave a message and—” Beep. 

He tried again, then again, desperation mounting with each missed call. “Y/N, please call me back. Just—just call me back, okay?” Each voice message grew more frantic, more pleading as he left you one after another, interspersed with shaky, jumbled texts trying to explain, trying to beg for a chance to talk.

Eventually, when it was clear you weren’t going to answer, Spencer felt his heart sink to depths he hadn’t known existed. You had shut him out. He was drowning in his own panic, guilt clawing at his insides like a living thing, and he felt like he had nowhere to go—no way to reach you, no way to make this right.

Swallowing thickly, and feeling like his pride was an irrelevant casualty in the wake of losing you, he called the only person who might know how to get through to you. “Agent Reid?” Strauss's voice was clipped, professional, and instantly cold. 

He tried to speak, but his voice cracked on the first word. “Strauss, it’s—it's Y/N, she found... everything. It was an accident. Please, just—can you check on her? I don't know where she is, I—” His voice broke, desperation clawing through the line.

Strauss let out a long, slow sigh. “You’re a moron,” she said simply, and then the line went dead. No reassurance. No promise to help. And that silence was the worst of all.

That night, Spencer barely moved from his spot on the bed. He sat, still fully dressed in his work clothes, the fabric wrinkling under the weight of his exhaustion as he curled around his phone, holding onto it like a lifeline. His eyes were swollen and bloodshot from the tears that he couldn’t stop, the grief for what he feared he’d lost seeping into every pore. 

The box still sat on the bed, its presence an accusation. A reminder of everything he had hidden, everything he might now lose. And in that moment, it felt like the walls of his apartment were closing in, trapping him in the silence of his own regret.

The morning light brought no solace to Spencer as he dragged himself out of bed, the weight of the previous day hanging over him like a storm cloud. His eyes were gritty and raw from the lack of sleep, his mouth dry as he went through the motions of getting ready for work, each step automatic. Splash water on the face. Brush teeth. Dress. His phone sat on the counter, silent—no new messages from you. Just the one from Strauss.

My office, first thing.

The words filled him with dread, and as he walked into the office, each step felt like he was dragging lead weights tied to his feet. When he reached Strauss’s office, she was already seated behind her desk, her expression a vicious, unreadable mask. He took the chair across from her, his back stiff as he prepared for the worst. 

“I spoke with Y/N,” Strauss said, her voice clipped, cutting like ice. Even just hearing your name was a punch to the gut. He winced, bracing himself. He had to know—whatever the truth was, he had to hear it. “And?” he managed to ask, the word barely a whisper, as if speaking louder would make it all too real.

Strauss’s gaze was sharp, unforgiving. “I’m not speaking as your unit chief when I say this—you fucked up, Spencer.”

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Spencer’s worst fear was crashing down around him. He could already feel the numbness setting in, dulling the pain, shutting down every emotion except the guilt that gnawed at his insides like acid. “She doesn’t want to see you,” Strauss continued, and though the words were steady and cold, each one landed like a bullet. 

He nodded, his throat too tight to speak. There was nothing else to say, nothing to do but stand and leave, holding on to the last shred of composure he had left. Every step out of Strauss’s office was heavier than the last, each stride echoing in his ears as he made his way to his desk. He threw himself into his work with ferocity, desperate for a distraction, any distraction, to fill the void.

Meanwhile, miles away, you sat staring blankly at your laptop screen, trying to focus on the lines of code that blurred in front of you. But your mind was tangled in a mess of thoughts and questions, none of which had answers. What was he going to do with that dose? Is he still using? Was he going to use it all at once? Was he going to use it on me, like Dad did to Mom?

You hated how the questions came unbidden, every fear of your past dragging itself to the surface like an unrelenting tide. You couldn’t help but remember the night you found your parents—your father, using drugs to take your mother away. The thought that Spencer could be carrying anything like that darkness, even the slightest potential for harm, made your heart twist in agony. You loved him, but did you really know him? Could you trust him, after this? 

Every answer felt just out of reach, and all you could do was sit there, heart heavy and confused, trying to make sense of it all while feeling like the ground had dropped out from under your feet.

—

Three months had passed, a stretch of time that had felt both impossibly long and painfully short to Spencer. Three months since you’d walked out of his apartment, since the wall he’d carefully built around his heart had crumbled, since he’d been able to see you, touch you, speak with you. The only thing that got him through each day was work, the relentless cases that pulled him into the minds of others and away from his own chaos. But even then, in the rare moments of quiet, you still lingered in his thoughts.

Today, however, even work couldn’t serve as a distraction. Derek leaned on the edge of his desk, the grin on his face faltering when Spencer didn't meet his eyes. “Look, man,” Derek said, his tone soft, with that note of understanding that made Spencer want to crawl out of his own skin. “I know you’ve been bummed after your breakup with Y/N, but the team is going out tonight. You should come, it might cheer you up.”

Derek’s words, although well-intentioned, felt like a punch in the gut. He knew Derek meant well, and that the rest of the team did too, but they didn’t know the real reason things ended. Spencer couldn't tell them; it wasn’t just his story to share. He couldn’t explain the heartbreak that came from the discovery, the misunderstanding, the silence. All he could do was shake his head, eyes downcast as he muttered, “I’m good, man. Thanks though.”

Derek sighed deeply, clearly not ready to give up. “I didn’t want to have to do this,” he said, cracking his knuckles in a display of mock intimidation. “But if you don’t come out tonight, I’ll tell Penelope that you’re the one who spilled coffee on her favorite keyboard.”

Spencer’s head whipped around so fast he almost cricked his neck, his eyes wide with horror. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would, kid,” Derek nodded seriously, his expression deadpan but the mischief unmistakable in his eyes.

Spencer could see there was no way out. Derek had cornered him, and he knew Penelope’s wrath was something to be avoided at all costs. “Fine,” he conceded, huffing out a breath. “But only for a bit.”

Derek’s victorious fist pump made him chuckle despite himself. “Yes! You won’t regret it, Reid. We’ll have a blast, just wait.”

And so, later that evening, Spencer found himself tucked into a booth at the team's favorite bar, nursing a drink that burned his throat but warmed his insides. The atmosphere was light, almost buoyant—stories were exchanged, laughter flowed as freely as the drinks, and for once, he found himself genuinely enjoying the company without the constant ache that had settled in his chest since you left.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Spencer was starting to feel something close to relaxed. The chatter around the table and the warmth of his friends seemed to ease some of the tension in his body, if only for a little while. He could breathe, even laugh at times, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like maybe—just maybe—things could be okay again.

As the team sat around their booth, the energy high and the laughter loud, Spencer was oblivious to what was about to unfold. It wasn't until Derek's loud whistle pierced the air, catching everyone's attention, that he noticed something had shifted. 

“Damn, who is that fine lady?” Derek smirked, his eyes fixed on a woman who was strutting across the bar in a purple dress that left little to the imagination. 

“God, that dress is basically lingerie,” Emily leaned in to whisper, sounding a mix of admiration and awe. “I want it.”

The team shared quick glances, some amused, some appreciative of the daring outfit that hugged the woman's body perfectly. Even Spencer's eyes lingered, caught by the vibrant shade of purple—his favorite color. She looked like she had stepped out of a dream, a vision of elegance and seduction that was hard to look away from. But her face was hidden beneath waves of hair, and the dim bar lighting made it difficult to make out her features.

After a few moments of admiring glances, the conversation returned to its usual flow—until a table of rowdy men called out loudly, catcalling and beckoning the woman over. As she walked closer, the team finally got a good look at her face, and all their eyes widened in shock. 

It was you.

Spencer’s heart dropped to his stomach, but he didn’t even have a chance to process what was happening before Derek nudged him sharply. He pointed in your direction, where you were now leaning over the table of men, the dress dangerously low-cut, and your cleavage all too exposed. For a moment, the sight of you, dressed so provocatively and surrounded by a group of ogling strangers, felt like a punch to his chest.

Without thinking, and fueled by the anger and confusion that came crashing over him like a wave, Spencer stood abruptly. He didn’t care about the table’s booing or the way the men protested as he stormed over. All he could think about was getting you away from them. He grabbed your arm and yanked you back, his grip firm, his eyes blazing. 

"Come with me," he demanded, his voice low and tight with emotions he didn’t know how to name.

You laughed as Spencer dragged you outside the bar, letting the breeze hit your face, the night air cool against your flushed cheeks. But as the realization of who was gripping your arm sunk in, the smile fell away. 

“Spencer! What the hell! Let me go!” you snapped, pulling your arm away and shaking him off with all the force you could muster.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he spat, his voice filled with anger and... something else you couldn’t quite place—hurt, maybe?

You only laughed bitterly in response, the sound sharp and humorless. “Oh, you mean besides getting dragged around by a liar? What are you doing?” You met his gaze defiantly, your words dripping with contempt.

Spencer’s eyes narrowed as he searched your face, noticing for the first time the redness in your eyes, the slight glaze that wasn't quite right. “Are you... Are you high?” His tone was almost disbelieving, as if he couldn't fathom what he was seeing.

You nodded exaggeratedly, barely stifling another giggle. “As a kite.”

His anger flared again, and he practically yelled, “Are you kidding me? You hate drugs! You hate everything to do with them, and now you’re... using?”

“It’s just weed, Spencer!” you shot back, your voice loud and edged with frustration. “Sorry if I needed to relax! I’ve had a lot on my mind, okay?” 

Spencer paused for a moment, clearly wrestling with how to respond, his eyes flickering between you and the ground. He opened his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it, your words spilling out with no filter, no restraint.

“What were you going to do with that dose, huh?” you challenged, your voice shaking. “Were you going to kill me, just like my daddy?”

The words hung in the air like a slap, and Spencer’s face paled, the color draining away as if you’d punched him. “Y/N, no. God, no—I... I don’t know...” He sighed, running a shaky hand through his hair as he struggled to find the right words. “I guess... I kept it around in case.”

“In case what?” you pressed, eyes narrowing, your anger boiling over. 

“In case I... wanted to...” He shook his head in frustration, unable to even finish the thought. “I don’t know! It’s stupid, but I just—”

“Fuck, Spencer,” you said, disgust heavy in your voice. “How could you?”

“I haven’t touched it in years!” he protested desperately, his voice cracking with the weight of his plea. “I’m clean, Y/N. I wanted to tell you, I really did, but you wouldn’t let me explain! I’m not like your dad—I’m not.”

The comparison made something inside you snap, and before you knew what you were doing, you were leaning in close, your eyes boring into his as you hissed, “Once a junkie, always a junkie.” 

Spencer stood there, stunned, your words slicing through him like shards of glass. The hostility radiating off you was something he had never witnessed before, and it hurt—hurt in a way that made it hard to breathe, to think, to respond.

“You don’t mean that,” he said, voice shaking. He wanted to believe you didn’t mean it. That this was just the high talking, the anger, the frustration. “Y/N, please. You know I’m not like—”

But you cut him off with a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “No, Spencer, you are. You kept that shit around like some kind of lifeline, like a fucking safety net. How am I supposed to trust you? How am I supposed to believe anything you say when you’re hiding something like that?”

He could see the pain and betrayal in your eyes, and it tore him apart. Spencer felt the weight of your words settle in his chest, heavy like a stone. He reached out to touch your arm, trying to ground you both, but you yanked away, the motion sharp and final.

"Y/N, please, I know it looks bad. I know it seems like I’m keeping something from you, but I swear to you I’ve been clean for years. I swear that it was never about you, it was just—" Spencer’s voice cracked, struggling to find the right words. “It was a part of my past I was ashamed of. I didn't know how to tell you without losing you.”

Your eyes flashed with a mixture of hurt and anger. “And now you have.” Your voice was low, trembling with barely contained rage. “You know, I wanted to be there for you. I wanted to help you through whatever you were struggling with. But you didn’t let me, Spencer. You made a choice to keep me in the dark. And now I’m supposed to what? Trust that you’ll never fall back into that?”

Spencer’s eyes were wet, brimming with desperation. “I would never do that to you. I swear, I would never—”

“I don’t know if I can believe you,” you said, your voice cracking, betraying the emotions you were trying so hard to hold back. “I don't know if I can do this anymore. I can't keep looking at you and wondering when you're going to relapse or if you're hiding something else from me.”

He shook his head frantically, panic setting in as he reached for your hands. “Please don’t do this. Please, Y/N. I love you. I know I messed up, but let me make it right. Just—”

“You can’t fix this, Spencer. I don't think you can," you whispered, and you pulled away, turning from him. Your body felt heavy, like it was weighed down by all the anger and sorrow. And for a moment, all you could do was stand there, willing yourself not to break down in front of him.

The silence stretched on, suffocating. Finally, you took a deep breath and forced yourself to walk away, leaving Spencer standing alone in the cold night air, his heart shattered, his world upended.

He called after you, but his voice sounded far away, like it was drowned out by the noise in your head, the whirlwind of emotions that wouldn’t let up.

You stopped in your tracks, feeling the urge to get the last word in, knowing the wound it would leave. Slowly, you turned around, and your voice was ice-cold as you spoke. “Oh, and Spencer?”

He looked up, a glimmer of hope flashing in his eyes, desperate and raw. 

“For the record,” you said, the words burning on your tongue, “if you had just been honest about your past... I would've understood. I wouldn’t have judged you. No matter what happened, no matter how bad it was—I would've accepted you. I would've even helped you get rid of the box.” 

You watched as the hope drained from his face, the realization settling in. Then, without another word, you turned your back on him and left for good, leaving Spencer to stare after you, alone and devastated.

Your words cut through the air like a knife, leaving Spencer staring after you, the hope in his eyes collapsing into devastation. He felt like the ground beneath him had opened up and swallowed him whole, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t move, couldn’t reach out, couldn’t make this right. 

As you walked away, the finality of your steps echoed louder than anything he’d ever heard before. Spencer’s heart felt like it had been ripped out of his chest, and he couldn’t help but replay your words over and over: If you had just told me...

And just like that, the what-ifs became deafening. What if he’d been honest with you from the start? What if he’d trusted you with his pain, his struggle, his history? What if he hadn’t let fear dictate his actions? 

Spencer ran a trembling hand through his hair, his chest heaving with silent sobs as you disappeared from view, the night swallowing you whole. And with each step you took, he knew it was one step further from ever getting back what he’d lost. 

You had been willing to stay, to support him, to love him even at his lowest—if only he had given you the chance. 

But he didn’t. And now, the person he loved more than anything in the world was gone. All he could do was stand there, his hands trembling, his heart breaking, whispering into the empty night.

“I’m sorry... I'm so sorry, Red.” 

But it was too late.

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

tag list <333 @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303 @dead-universe @hbwrelic @kniselle @cynbx @danielle143 @katemusic @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @laurakirsten0502 @geepinky @mxlviaa @libraprincessfairy @fortheloveofgubler @super-nerd22 @k-illdarlings @softestqueeen @eliscannotdance 

[tetsuissohot]

Lice?!

☆summary. you check their head for lice!

☆warning/tags: fem!reader, mostly crack, fluff, jkk men with lice?

☆word count: 1.3k

☆a/n: I don't know how I came up with these, but I still hope you enjoy and that this brings a smile to your face!

Nanami Kento | Gojo Satoru | Toji Fushiguro | Geto Suguro | Choso

Nanami approached you in the living room, looking uncharacteristically flustered. He adjusted his tie for the third time in two minutes, clearly uncomfortable.

"Y/N," he said, voice calm but with an underlying urgency, "I need you to check my head."

You blinked, setting down the book you were reading. "Uh, what?"

Nanami sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled blond hair. "It’s nothing serious... well, probably nothing. But I’ve noticed I’ve been itching. A lot. I can’t afford to be distracted on the next mission, so just... check."

You suppressed a smile, biting your lip. Seeing the always-composed Nanami unsettled by something as simple as an itchy scalp was too adorable.

“Sure thing,” you said, standing up and motioning for him to sit on the couch. “Come here, let me take a look.”

Nanami sat down, stiff as a board, his back straight and eyes fixed ahead as if preparing for battle. You took a seat behind him, fingers gently parting his hair.

After a few moments, you broke the silence. “So, should I call Satoru if I find anything? Maybe he’ll bring you a lice comb—”

“No.” Nanami cut you off instantly, his voice firm. “Under no circumstances should Gojo find out about this.”

You chuckled, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “Relax. No lice. You’re clear.”

Nanami visibly relaxed. "Thank you." He stood up, adjusting his suit once more. "But remember, we never speak of this again."

"Agreed," you said with a grin. "But if you’re ever itching to come back for a check-up, let me know."

He shot you a deadpan look. “Not funny, Y/N.”

Gojo waltzed into the room with his usual swagger, but something was off. He scratched his head casually, trying to make it seem like he wasn’t bothered, but you caught the third scratch in as many minutes.

“Babe,” he began, a playful grin tugging at his lips, “you wouldn’t mind checking my head for lice, would you?”

You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Lice? Satoru, you literally have Infinity. What, did they evolve to pass through it?”

Gojo plopped down on the couch beside you, leaning in close. “Listen, Infinity protects against curses, not tiny, itchy creatures. They might be cleverer than we think. I can’t risk this perfect hair being infested.”

You snorted, grabbing the comb from the table. “You really think you’ve got lice?”

Gojo gave you a dramatic shrug, scratching his head again. “Well, if you loved me, you’d check and make sure. You wouldn’t want the strongest sorcerer being brought down by some tiny bugs, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but part of you found his vulnerability oddly endearing. “Fine, hold still. Let me make sure your Infinity isn’t on vacation.”

You ran the comb through his hair while he hummed, grinning all the while. “You know, I could get used to this. You, doting on me, fingers in my hair. It’s pretty romantic if you think about it.”

“Keep talking and I’ll start charging you for this,” you teased. “Also, no lice. Your perfect hair is safe for now.”

Gojo beamed and leaned back, dramatically throwing an arm over his eyes. “Ah, wonderful! I guess I’ll have to come up with a new excuse for you to pamper me next time.”

You playfully pushed his shoulder. “Get out of here, drama king.”

Toji barged into the room with his usual swagger, but the moment he started scratching the back of his head, you knew something was up.

“Toji?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He scratched again and grunted. “Yeah, yeah. I know how this looks.”

You blinked. “Like you need some flea powder?”

Toji shot you a glare but then sighed, leaning against the wall. “Look, I’ve been itchy, okay? Maybe it’s nothing, but I need you to check my hair. Make sure I don’t have any of those... lice things.”

You had to stifle a laugh. Toji Fushiguro, the man who took down powerful sorcerers and curses, was worried about lice.

“You? Lice?” You chuckled, motioning for him to sit. “Aren’t you supposed to be too tough for something like that?”

He scowled, sitting down with a huff. “Just check. I don’t want to be distracted on a job.”

You grabbed the comb, shaking your head as you began parting his hair. “This might be the first time I’ve seen you worried about something so... small.”

Toji grumbled. “I’m not worried, I’m just... irritated.”

After a minute or so of combing through his thick, dark hair, you grinned. “No lice. You’re good. Maybe you’re just allergic to being so grumpy.”

Toji looked over his shoulder, his smirk returning. “If you’re done messing with me, maybe you can help me... de-stress.”

You flicked his ear and laughed. “Sure, but next time, try not to come in here scratching like a stray dog.”

You were chilling in the couch when Geto came in, looking suspiciously thoughtful. He sat down beside you, scratching his head absentmindedly.

"Y/N," he started, his voice soft but curious, "do you know what’s causing this? I’ve been itching for days."

You tilted your head, looking at him with amusement. “Scratching your head a lot lately, huh? Want me to check for lice?”

Geto chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Lice? Really? That’s your diagnosis?”

You shrugged, already grabbing the comb. “Well, you’ve been scratching a lot, and lice don’t care how strong a sorcerer is.”

Geto leaned back slightly, allowing you to start combing through his long black hair. “I’ve exorcised curses and fought cursed spirits my whole life, but I never thought I’d need protection from something so... mundane.”

You laughed softly. “Well, even sorcerers can’t escape normal human problems.”

Geto closed his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. “I suppose that’s what I have you for. Keep me grounded in the world of lice and hair care.”

You chuckled, running the comb gently through his hair. “Exactly. Someone has to make sure you don’t lose your head over a few itchy spots.”

After a few moments, you gave him a pat on the shoulder. “All clear. No lice.”

Geto smiled, his eyes soft as he glanced over at you. “Thank you, my love. I feel much more at peace now.”

You kissed his cheek. “Glad I could help. Anything else bothering you? Maybe you’re allergic to all that long hair.”

Geto grinned. “Perhaps... or maybe it’s just an excuse to have you take care of me.

Choso shuffled into the room, looking slightly unsure of himself. He scratched his head awkwardly, avoiding your gaze.

“Y/N,” he started slowly, “I... think I might have lice.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the blunt admission. “Wait, what? Why would you think that?”

He scratched again, looking down at his feet. “I’ve been itching a lot, and I heard some people say that could mean... lice. I’m not sure, but it’s starting to worry me.”

You smiled softly, walking over to him. “Hey, it’s okay. Sit down, I’ll check for you.”

Choso obediently sat down, his shoulders tense as you grabbed the comb and began parting his hair. His usually calm demeanor was replaced by visible uncertainty.

“I’m not familiar with this... lice thing,” he admitted quietly, glancing up at you. “But it doesn’t sound good.”

You chuckled softly. “It’s just tiny bugs that can live in your hair. Annoying, but not dangerous. And don’t worry, if you’ve got them, I’ll help you get rid of them.”

Choso relaxed a bit under your touch, his tense shoulders lowering. “I’m glad you’re here. I’d have no idea how to handle something like this.”

You finished checking his hair and smiled. “Good news, Choso—no lice. You’re safe.”

Choso looked up at you, visibly relieved. “Thank you. I feel much better now.”

You ruffled his hair affectionately. “Next time you’re itching, just come to me. I’ll make sure it’s nothing serious.”

He smiled softly, his eyes warm. “I’ll remember that.”

MASTERLIST

Thank you for reading until the end! I hope you enjoyed it. This piece was more of a spontaneous writing, so there may be some imperfections in the scenario. I just had these ideas and wanted to put them down quickly. xoxo

[toruskiii]

The Kiss Economy!

Synopsis: What's a more charming way to trade things than using kisses as currency? Genre: Fluff Character: Veritas Ratio x Gn!reader Warnings: Smooches, established relationship, both you and Ratio are teachers! Maybe a little ooc [masterlist] [about me]

Ratio sighed, running a hand through his hair as he paced the halls of the space station. Sometimes, he simply couldn't stand the reckless fools who were his students. It hadn't even been half a day, yet there was already so much to do— or more precisely, so much to clean up.

His classes ranged from young, aspiring teens to adults, who, in his mind, should be capable enough to handle equipment properly and behave responsibly in his absence.

But no.

The moment he stepped into the laboratory, his eyes fell upon a scene of chaos. Panicked students darted about, glass shards littered the floor, and expensive apparatus lay broken in the sink. Imbeciles, he thought with a mix of frustration and disappointment. Why did they always have to prove him wrong about their competence?

Now, he found himself troubled with seeking out you— another teacher who happened to be his dear beloved. He wasn't one to shy away from ranting about the incompetence of his students in private, often grumbling about how he wished his students were more like yours. After all, you never seemed to complain much about your own classes.

His perspective shifted, however, when he knocked on the door of your class and swung it open, only to be greeted by an expression of dread on your face—an expression he found somewhat amusing.

"Hm? You look distressed. Care to explain?" he pointed out, observing as you hunched over the lab sink, your expression deadpan as you glanced back at him.

"Veritas," you whined, facepalming yourself with a groan. "One of my students accidentally disposed of the platinum black powder while clearing out the empty containers." You could feel his stare, his raised eyebrow silently questioning how your students could mess up this badly.

"I think Herta is going to kill me when I report this to her," you added with a fake sob, walking over to him and tugging on his shirt for comfort. He let out a huff, shaking his head and ruffling your hair in a gesture of reassurance. "Just report it to Asta, she'll help you deal with it."

"Do you know how much that powder costs?!"

"Of course I do. But do you think this will make a dent in any of their accounts?"

"...Ah."

You let out a pout, smoothing your hair before directing a confused gaze at him. "Anyways, why did you come to look for me?" you questioned, genuinely curious. It was a rare occurrence for him to seek you out during work hours; he usually adhered strictly to his schedule and dismissed any potential distractions. A mischievous grin spread across your face as you continued, crossing your arms playfully. "Orrrr…did you miss me? Hmmm?"

He scoffed, flicking your forehead lightly as you yelped in surprise. "Don't be foolish," he retorted, but there was a faint hint of amusement in his eyes. "I came to ask if I could borrow some equipment from your lab."

"Equipment? Why? Don't you have everything you need already?" you asked, rubbing your forehead in mild exasperation as you watched him rummage through the cabinets in your classroom. "Those idiots managed to break almost half of everything in the lab, including several crucial apparatuses," Ratio grunted, rubbing his temple in frustration. You couldn't help but silently pray for his students, who would soon face his wrath upon his return to the lab.

Shrugging, you gave him a nod of confirmation to rummage through your cabinets for whatever he needed. "Yeah, go ahead. My class won't really be needing anything today anyways."

As he finished grabbing the necessary items, he paused when he felt another tug at his shirt. Turning around, he looked at you with a puzzled expression, noting the mischievous glint in your eyes— he knew that look all too well. "What is it?" he inquired cautiously.

You grinned cheekily at him, chuckling softly. "Just because I'm allowing you to borrow my stuff, doesn't mean I'm giving it to you for free."

He frowned, genuinely puzzled as to what you could possibly want in return. If you were anyone else, he might have already told you off and demanded you keep your hands to yourself. But you were his dear significant other, so he decided to play along. "Do tell me what it is that you want."

You hummed thoughtfully, continuing to fiddle with the purple fabric draped over his shoulder. "Hmm… I don't know. Why don't you take a guess?" you teased, a playful glint in your eyes. "It's something you forgot this morning," you added cryptically.

He stared at you with an unreadable expression, his mind working to decipher your words. "Something I forgot?" he muttered to himself, setting the basket of apparatus onto the table before narrowing his eyes at you. "I'd appreciate it if you'd get straight to the point, my dear," he said, a hint of impatience creeping into his tone.

With a sigh, you raised a finger and tapped it against your pouty lips, gazing at him with a mock frown.

Ratio paused, his mind working through the puzzle until the realization finally dawned on him. Ah, so that's what you were huffing about.

How childish.

"You want a kiss? Is that it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, half-amused and half-exasperated.

When you finally nodded with a triumphant smirk, Ratio felt his shoulders relax, shaking his head in quiet amusement. The corner of his lips twitched as if fighting the urge to curl into a smirk at your foolishness. "You're so childish, my love," he murmured, his voice soft but teasing.

He leaned in closer, his arms slipping around your waist, pulling you gently toward him. His other hand came up, fingers brushing your chin as he tipped your face upward.

You couldn’t help but smile giddily, heart fluttering in anticipation. And then, with a warmth that melted every teasing remark, his lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss. It was gentle, affectionate— everything you had wanted.

He pulled away, a soft blush dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears, though he tried to maintain his composure. His thumb brushed teasingly against your bottom lip, causing you to meet his gaze with playful mischief in your eyes.

"That's it?"

He blinked, confusion flickering in his expression. "What do you mean 'that's it'?" he scoffed, gently pinching your cheeks in mild exasperation. "I gave you what you wanted— what else is there?"

You pouted dramatically, crossing your arms. "You took so many of my apparatus and other equipment. You think one kiss is gonna be enough? Scam!"

Ratio’s eyes widened for a moment before he let out a low chuckle, realizing you weren’t going to let him off the hook so easily. "A scam, you say?" He leaned in close again, a smirk tugging at his lips as his fingers traced your waist. "Alright, what will it take to settle this 'debt' of mine?"

You pretended to ponder, your eyes tracing over the familiar contours of his face. "Hmm… your total will beee…"

"Ten kisses," you declared proudly, flashing a playful grin. "And that’s with a discount!"

He rolled his eyes, letting out a barely audible groan. "You minx," he grumbled, though the way his fingers squeezed your waist and the softness in his eyes betrayed his affection. "Fine then, I won’t bargain any further."

With a defeated sigh, he leaned in and began peppering kisses across your face; nine quick ones, each accompanied by a light laugh from you. He saved the last one for your lips, pressing against you gently but with a familiar warmth that fit like the final piece of a puzzle.

Just when you thought it was over, he decided to push it a little further, keeping his lips locked with yours for longer this time. The kiss lingered, deep and slow, until you playfully smacked his shoulders with a soft whine. He finally pulled away, chuckling at the flushed look on your face, only to sneak in one last kiss— an eleventh.

You blinked in surprise, staring at him in mock disbelief as he casually turned back to pick up the basket of equipment. "Wha— that was eleven kisses!" you protested, though you weren’t exactly complaining.

He shrugged casually, walking out the door with a final glance over his shoulder. "Keep the change, sweetheart."

Before you could protest with a panicked look, he was already gone.

---

Ratio returned to his class a few minutes later than he'd intended, the usual sharpness in his stride slightly softened. As he entered, he noticed his students staring at him. Some with wide-eyed confusion, others with flushed cheeks, and more than a few giggling quietly amongst themselves.

Frowning, he set the borrowed equipment down on the table, neatly arranging it as he always did. "If there's something you'd like to ask, do speak. It is rude to stare," he said curtly, glancing up at them with his usual sternness.

There was an awkward pause before one of the braver students spoke up, trying to stifle a grin.

"Uh, Sir Ratio…there's lipstick on your lips."

His hand froze mid-motion, eyes widening slightly in realization. The clatter of glass breaking followed as two of the newly borrowed apparatus slid from his grasp and shattered on the floor.

The room fell silent.

He shuffled awkwardly, bending down to collect the shards of broken glass, his face a deep shade of red. Raising a hand to cover his mouth, he muttered curses under his breath, embarrassed by the situation. Clearing his throat, he tried to regain some semblance of composure. "Ahem— I apologize. Please continue with your reports while I clean this up."

Now he was 10 kisses in debt.

[tac-the-unseen]

OUAGH the last one gave me the idea of a musician reader x slasher

If I were to suggest a specific genre maybe they’re into rock because. Yeah.

Could you do something with that?

Slashers x Musician Reader

Micheal Myers:

•Plays it off but thinks it cool as hell

•He did play the piano for a very short time in his childhood, but the ward made him very rusty 

•Will happily watch any concerts you put on for him

•Will Secretly watch you if you don't 

Billy loomis & Stu macher:

•They both immediately pitch in a song request 

•They bring up the fact that you play an instrument to win arguments with people 

•Will eventually find a way to break your instrument 

•They will be very apologetic about it 

•attempts to replace it 

Thomas Hewitt:

•very interested 

•He's curious by nature, he wants to know everything he can about it 

•Your instrument is the most expensive thing in the house 

•daydreams about being able to play a song for you, one day

•until then, he'll try to figure it out himself 

Bubba Sawyer:

•Tries to sing along when you play

•he also dances but always ends up knocking stuff over

•Will sit in front of the door so her brothers can't get in while you're playing

•They constantly complain about the racket 

•Chop-top will occasionally sit in while you play 

Bo Sinclair:

•immediately shows you his acoustic 

•brags about how he can out play you

•loses miserably because he only practiced for a couple months 

•mad about it

•polishes its case whenever he comes around to it 

Vincent Sinclair:

•romanticizes it by thinking about how you're two different types of artists 

•Sketches you playing your instrument 

•Sheepishly asks you to pose

•makes a mini wax sculpture of your instrument 

•He get super giddy if you play a song for him

Lester Sinclair:

•extremely impressed 

•He's always thought of being able to play an instrument as a high class/rich person activity 

•Falls asleep while you play, Not because you're boring, But because he finds it soothing 

•will find out how to care for your instrument so he can help repair any damages it might face

Billy Lenz:

•probably was the reason He zeroed in on you in the first place 

•fines it incredibly alluring and wanted you to play all the time 

•Will find a way to get his grubby hands on your instrument 

•Will eventually break it but not feel sorry 

•(Not So) patiently waits for you to get it fixed

Brahms Heelshire:

•He can play the piano and just uses it as another excuse to hang out with you 

•looks up songs to properly make a duet with you 

•whenever conversations died down or get a little stale, he whips out the instrument card 

•whether you did or didn't know how to play an instrument he's going to romanticize it anyway 

Hannibal Lecter:

•insists on making some kind of duet with you, and whether or not your instruments align with each other 

•buy stuff to make for your instrument is a mint condition 

•’humbly’ braggs about your talent at his dinner parties 

•Will make you food associated with your instrument(s) (look that up, it's a real thing because of course it is)

Will Graham:

•Like to watch you play whatever it is you play

•He's never really had any interest in instruments, But he starts listening to videos featuring your instrument. 

•Casually asks Hannibal facts about your instrument 

•makes you a little charm related to your instrument to put on your keychain 

•Has flashbacks to the guy with his throat turned into a Cello 

The Lost Boys:

•They all at some point have picked up an instrument 

•David can play the Piano, Organ, violin, and guitar

•Dwayne can play the Hand drums, flute, and Bass guitar

•Paul can play the clarinet, electric guitar, French horn, and marimba 

•Marko can play the Drums, Harp, Cello, and viola

•They have all genuinely considered starting a band 

•No matter what you play, you'll fit in

Thanks for reading <3

I went for a more neutral tone with this fic. Because I don't want to write 16 other fanfics about specific music genres ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠🎀)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

[hw4-l1z]

can i request a minho x male reader where minho thinks reader is straight and kinda avoids him when reader became really close to a female idol bc minho has feelings for him. reader confronts him since they used to be close, and now their conversations are so short. Angsty till minho confesses and reader accepts. and it would be awesome if you could make reader physically bigger than minho (taller and broader). if you want nsfw, thats completely your choice. Ill love it regardless <3

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I'm gonna swallow him whole

Lee Know x Male!Reader (fluff)

Cw: none tbh other than a little angsty and kissy kissy// ig dom!reader but there's no smut

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You've noticed for past few weeks that Minho's been fairly distant with you. He used to give you alot of funny flirtatious remarks and would always be by your side chatting away at anything and everything. But everytime you pass by him, expecting him to stop and talk to you for a bit, he just sends a little smile your way and quickly walks by almost as if your somewhat strangers now.

You missed him. You really did. You missed him being so close to you, pulling those silly disgusted faces when you 'jokingly' flirted with him, his hand constantly being on your butt as he looks at you with a big smirk on your face and you miss cooking together. You had grown feelings for him, loving how you both had such a strong connection with eachother and how you could be yourself around him.

You wanted thay back more than anything so you decided that you would go on a hunt in hopes to find him somewhere in the company building. You checked in with chan to ask if he's seen him anywhere and he suggested that he may be in the practise room. And of course, he was there. You knocked on the door as you slowly opened it and saw him sitting there on the couch along with a few of the other members sprawled out. You poked your head round the corner and signaled for him to come with you with your hand. He gave you a little confused look before standing up and following you out the door. You softly wrapped your hand around his wrist and pulled him into the nearest empty room.

You pulled him down to sit with you on the couch as you begin to speak, "are you okay? Is somthing going on? Did I do something wrong?" You asked turning your body to face him. He just gives you another confused look "what? What's this about? What makes you think that?".

"I don't know...you've just seen very distant with me...Min...if I've done something wrong I need you to tell me so I can fix it" you furrowed your brows at him. He shakes his head before speaking "no what? You haven't done anything wrong I promise" he looks away, signing before he continues "it's not you I promise...it's me, I'm probably just overthinking it all" he says looking back at you.

"About what? From what I know everything was perfectly fine...until it wasn't" you say, string deeply into his eyes, trying to read his expressions. "I don't know...just maybe that you wouldn't wanna speak to me much anymore" he shrugs. "Why wouldn't I wanna speak to you anymore? I never showed signs of that did I?" You're sitting there so confused, just wanting nothing but to get what you had with him back.

"I know but..." He can feel himself begin to tear up, trying to hold it back, not wanting to seem vulnerable in front of you but he just feels so small right now. Your gaze is quite intense, you're eyes haven't left him since you entered the room and it's a bit much for him to handle. "...you just seemed like you were really really close with *idols name* and...thought since your eyes were on her that you wouldn't be interested in anyone else but her" he says only able to look down. He's scared that if he looks at you then he might break and that's the last thing he wants.

"Min that's silly...why would I not be interested? We had such a strong connection and suddenly it disappeared, I miss being with you" you say. His cheeks go pink as he thinks to himself 'he misses me? He misses spending time with me?'. "Do you think I have a crush on her?" You ask him, confused at the fact you thought he knew you were gay. He nods his head slowly before looking up and into your eyes. He instantly regretted it at his bottom lip begin to tremble and tears fall from his eyes. Your eyes widen as you see him sit in front of you, trying to wipe away his tears as he starts to sniffle.

"Oh my god min, don't cry, why are you crying?" You say a little panicked. You move closer as you pull him into your arms, his head buries into your chest as he sits there and cries into your shirt. You can't help but notice how small he really is compared to you, he fits perfectly in your arms and it warms your heart. "Min...I don't have feelings for her, I'm gay I don't like girls" you laugh a little. He could feel the butterflies that from in his stomach as you admitted that. He pulls away looking up at you "you...you are? I thought you were straight".

You laugh out loud, finding it funny that he actually thought you were straight. "What?! No no what?! You really thought I was straight? I thought I was quite obviously gay, why else would I have flirted with you?" You give him a confused/shocked face as his face lit up a little. "You were ACTUALLY flirting with me? It thought it was a joke...did I read this whole thing wrong?" He asks feeling stupid that he never picked up the signs. "Clearly you were yeah" you chuckle, as he hangs his head shakes it side to side, a little smile forming on his face. "I mean...I have a huge crush on you so it kinda sucked to think you'd never have any sort of feelings for me but.." He trails off before looking you in the eyes again, "I was just an idiot I guess" he let's out a breathy laugh.

"Yeah your are...but you could be my idiot" you smile lovingly at him. He nods his head before speaking "I'm your idiot" he smiles fondly at you, still feeling like an fool for not reading the room earlier.

"Hey look at me the now...you have something on your face" you say as he looks at you unknowingly. "Let me get it for you" you say as you lean closer, pretending like your about to blow it off his face but instead planting a soft kiss to his cheek. "Ah it's just beauty" you smirk as you cup his face in your hands as he just sits there shocked and flustered before he let's out a laugh and slaps your arm playfully "YAAAA" he shouts loudly. You cover your ears with your hand as his loud voice rings though your ears "my god pipe down" you say laughing.

"You missed my lips idiot" he smirks at you before making his cute little kissy face at you. You can't help but smile in awe as you cup the side of his face with one hand and lean forward. You plant a quick soft kiss to his lips before pulling slightly back, he un-puckers his lips before leaning to kiss your normally. Your lips melt into eachothers so perfectly, his ears burning red as you feel the heat creep up your neck and spread onto your cheeks. The kiss is so soft and delicate, you both just sit there for a few minutes soaking in the feeling.

After a while you both pull away from eachother, just sitting there looking at eachother with flustered looks on both of your faces before yous break into a fit of giggles, leaning into eachother as you laugh away. You both sit there for a spilt second after calming down before you speak up and break the silence.

"Is it too early to say I love you"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[lovemyromance]

A lil angry rant

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD -

Elain eating drinking and sleeping again in ACOWAR had nothing to do with LUCIEN. Very tactically - It had to do with FEYRE - Our NARRATOR - arriving at the Night Court. Not even in the sense that Feyre brought her out of her depressive state. But in the sense that until FEYRE arrived:

We would not have known Elain was even depressed

We would not have seen Elain getting better

We would not know anything ABOUT Elain or her current state - or ANYONE in the NC, because Feyre - Our first person narrator - was NOT there.

The idea that Lucien was the reason she started eating and drinking again is LAUGHABLE. For that to be the REASON - he would have had to ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING to help her.

And I'm sorry but his mere existence did NOT fix Elain. There was a VERY clear cause and effect that fixed Elain, and it was Azriel discovering she's a Seer. People can try to downplay it as much as they want, but it doesn't change the fact that Azriel revealed she was a Seer - and literally the next page - Elain get's freed from her murky realm. Clarity returns to her.

Do NOT try to make this a thing. This is NOT the argument y'all want to actually use for Elucien. There are a dozen other things that make MARGINALLY more sense than saying "Elain got better because of Lucien and Mor and Feyre not Azriel". Mor & Feyre? Fucking really? REALLY?

Like I'm sorry but I am drawing the line at saying MOR fixed Elain and Elriels are misogynistic for erasing her BIG ROLE in fixing Elain. Like my god, if she really had such a BIG part in fixing Elain, maybe the real ship here is MorElain??? Or that Feyre fixed Elain because she literally asked AZRIEL "What is wrong with her??"

Like stop, just STOP at this point. Calling Elriels misogynistic over this is such a reach.

You are the same people who claim Elain is out here sniffing and cradling Lucien's cloak he gave her after the same most traumatic day of her life, disregarding her ENTIRE trauma and PTSD just to have a 'cutsey lil headcanon about elucien'- and you have the fucking nerve to call ELRIELS misogynistic? For what? Reading the books?

Sorry I don't read things like quizlet flashcards, like random letters cut out of a magazine and shuffled and taped together to try to send a message that just ISN'T THERE.

Y'alls logic is literally "Lucien made her feel better because he arrived and then she got better" even though she literally cringed away from him and all he told them to do was get Elain some fresh air. You are just theorizing - desperately hoping, really - that somehow, Lucien's "mate-ness" cures her? Through what? Osmosis? Tf? "Through the mating bond" -> You mean the one Elain called strange and runs away from? That mating bond somehow cured her? What led you to that conclusion when even Feyre didn't come to that conclusion?

Azriel figured out she was a Seer. He found out why she was in that scared, depressed state, and he freed her. And then as soon as she could put a name to what was happening to her, babygirl straightened her spine and came back to her senses. That is literally written - black and white - in the text (that you so carefully cut Azriel out of btw).

And I keep seeing this ridiculous shit about how "oh well Elain's powers are not WRONG >:( so Azriel figuring out her powers didn't fix what was wrong with her" -> And to that, all I have to say is stfu and stop being crazy, you look like fucking clowns 🤡 . You are trying SO - SO hard to try to disprove every Elriel moment it's making you seem so desperate.

You shouldn't have to do this level of mental gymnastics to prove your ship is relevant? Why are these people SO - SO obsessed with trying to "disprove" every Elriel moment to claim they aren't significant??? Like newsflash - if Elriel wasn't significant or important - there WOULDN'T BE so many moments!

Why don't they - IDK - put half as much energy into trying to prove Elucien? Why don't they put that energy into appreciating canon Elucien moments? Why don't they have cute quotes and fanart about canon Elucien moments? Why don't they sit here fawning over cute Elucien moments from the actual books?

Oh....lol...wait. BECAUSE THERE AREN'T ANY. 😫

They HAVE to sit here and make headcanons and try to disprove everything about Elriel because they don't HAVE anything to fawn over in the books. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Why is their ENTIRE ship:

70% trying to disprove every time Elriel ever even breathed beside each other + 30% over-analyzing random out of context words and sentences + 20% headcanons about Lucien (cough, oopsie I meant headcanons about Elucien. Sorry guys, sometimes I type too fast and its so hard to miss the small, miniscule E for Elain in the Lucien ship. Sorry did it again - meant E-Lucien)

(And yes I know this adds up to over 100%. Because they're ALWAYS TRYNNA DO TOO MUCH to act like Eluciens not a dead ship)

[raayllum]

a/n: sometimes i don't realize how much my autism has affected my life / relationships and then it slams into me. a ficlet

It's been an hour since the spat at negotiations, for lack of a better term—Opeli still winces when she thinks of the sharpness in the young prince's voice, straightening out his Evenere green robes with a finicky flourish—and Ezran had requested to be alone for the break.

Opeli had obliged him, not pleased he'd wanted distance from even Soren and Corvus when they had visiting nobles and servants over, but so long as they stood guard at wherever he'd gone, she couldn't really find it in her to object. Being king could be overwhelming even if you weren't eleven years old.

It's nearing the time negotiations will re-commence, though, and... she can't find him.

He's not in the kitchens, or one of the smaller dining halls he likes to use with Soren and Corvus. He's not with Callum, who went to the courtyard to sketch, a worried crease in his brow (he'd checked on his brother—you alright, Ez?—talked down the prince, but Ez had shooed him off).

Opeli is beginning to despair that maybe he's run off into one of the remaining secret passageways, or even gotten stuck somewhere, when she spots Soren and Corvus standing in front of the library doors. Corvus seems as troubled as Callum, Soren catching her eye and arm when she moves to go inside.

"I think he's having a rough time," Soren says softly. "You might wanna..."

"I don't know if we can delay the next meeting any further," Opeli says apologetically. He releases her, nodding but unhappy about it, and she pushes open the door.

It takes a few moments, peering through the tall aisles of shelves and one or two alcoves, but eventually she finds the young boy king in one of the armchairs tucked away in a corner, a book open in his lap. And in truth, Opeli hears him before she sees him, because Ezran is... crying.

Big fat tears rolling down his cheeks in ways she hasn't seen since they completed King Harrow's memorial statue based off Prince Callum's sketches, or since those early, overwhelming weeks of being king once the Moonshadow elf had left... Bait's not in his lap either, pawing at his thigh but otherwise ignored, which isn't like Ezran either; so much so, Opeli stops right in her tracks.

"I'm, er—" She starts, then stops. He's clearly not okay so there's no point in asking. She eases onto her knees instead beside his armchair, unsure of how to proceed until she knows what's distressing him. It's not far from the anniversary of the attack, so maybe...? "I'm afraid the meeting is going to resume, soon, King Ezran."

He sniffles, looking briefly at her and then just starting at the floor, his eyes hardening. He doesn't move. He doesn't even wipe away his tears.

She purses her lips. "Ezran?"

Finally he looks at her, his face contorting—livid like she's never seen. "I don't know how to do this, Opeli."

"King Ezr—"

"Prince Erik asked for more information, so I gave it, and then he snapped at me and—I just don't understand!" Ezran cries, tiny fingers curling into fists. His eyes go wide with frustration, searching for something he can't find. "I don't get it. We've always had these trade deals and they worked fine, and this new one is the exact same, but now the policy's a problem? And when I pointed out it's just like the old ones, he said it just feels like Evenere needs something different even though those things are there for a reason—and no one cares about the reason but me!"

Opeli reaches for his arm. "Ezran—"

He stands, pacing. "And then when I explain those reasons, it's like... I knew as a kid the other kids didn't like me because I talked too much, and I was boring about wanting to talk about bugs or animals, or—so I just... I tried so hard to use less words and always say what I mean, but people still didn't get it, or like it." He pressed his palms to his eyes, tears leaking out underneath. "And it's the same damn thing in court, I don't—at the last Summit, Prince Erik didn't mind how much I talked because we were agreeing on policy, but now that we disagree I-I can't, for some reason? I'm just trying to explain, but he thinks I'm being condescending, but I don't think I'm smarter than him, I don't, I try so hard to say things right and I just don't know how —"

"Ezran." She takes him by the shoulders and he looks up at her, red-eyed with a runny nose. She takes a deep breath for her own measure, reaching up to wipe away some of his tears. "The prince, as many do, have an ego. You are doing your—"

"Well yeah, some people are jerks like him. But most people aren't, and I still can't... Why can't people just know you value them? Why do I have to remember to spell it out every time? Why do I have to read their mind and know what they need without them telling me? If I'm listening it's because I think we can reach common ground... Because the respect is already there. And I try so hard to explain so we can just reach common ground, but people just—they don't see that. And I don't know how to make them see that. I came up here to read hoping I'd find something so I can understand where His Highness is coming from, but it still doesn't make sense to me, and... I'm so tired, Opeli."

Gods, she wishes she had a better answer for him. She gives his shoulders a tiny squeeze, and then reaches up and takes off his crown. "Go to the gardens for the rest of the day," she says. "With your crownguard, or your brother, or both. Down by the town. I'll tell the prince and his delegates you're not feeling well."

Ezran's eyes shine as she presses the crown into his hands. "But—"

"No buts. It's like you said: you're tired. You deserve rest." Opeli offers up a tiny smile. "Go on."

Ezran steps away, bottom lip trembling, and then throws his arms tightly around her in the middle. They've never hugged before, she thinks, but she hugs him back now, rubbing his shoulders gently.

"Thank you, Opeli," he mumbles, some of the last tears fading. "'M sorry I'm so..."

She shushes him quietly. "You're a very special boy, my king. Not everyone is going to understand that. And I know it hurts, but not everyone needs to. Just keep... being yourself. We all love you here. You know that, don't you?"

He pulls back slowly, not smiling, but not looking nearly as worn down as before. He tucks his crown under one arm, and picks up Bait with the other. He has one last big sniffle. "Yes. I do."

[sarah-bear706318]

Chasing Storms and Finding Love. Chapter 4

Series Summary: When Tyler's baby sister joins him and his team for a season she seems to catch the eye of a certain StormPar member much to her brothers dismay... will she listen listen to her big brother or follow her heart?

Chapter Summary: Reader Tyler and the wranglers head to a country bar to celebrate Y/n first chase. Reader and Scott get closer share a dance and maybe a kiss🤭

Pairing: Scott Miller X fem!reader, Tyler Owens x sister!reader

Warnings: Sneaking around, Pissed off Tyler, Love Struck Scott, ALOTS of kissing, A little age gap, Cussing, Drinking, Storms(duh), Falling in love, Slow burn

@nikkicloudie @papichulo120627 @thespillingvoid @turnerintoabutler @lindsayjoy444

A/N: The reader was a sorority sister and I am using the same sorority and the letters as the one from the show Greek that was on years ago, just so I don't accidentally use the letters or name of a real sorority house.

With your first chase now done you sit on the tailgate of your brothers truck looking up at the sky. As the adrenaline wore off your mind was able to really absorb what you just witnessed. Yeah you saw your brothers stream his videos and pictures from inside a tornado hell you have a PhD in Meteorology, seeing it up close was something totally different. It was safe to say you wanted more!

Tyler comes over and slings his arm around you and sits down. "So what'd you think" he ask. You look over to him with a smile and tears forming "It was the most amazing incredible thing I have ever witnessed. Thank you so much TyTy" you say using the nickname you gave him when you were 3.

"Wow haven't heard that name in since you were 12" he laughs and you smack his shoulder. "I'm glad you liked it and I got to share it with my favorite little sister"

"I'm your only little sister jackass" "that's why your my favorite" you just roll your eyes and laugh.

"So I was thinking to celebrate your first chase we can go to this country bar down the street from the hotel...they have karaoke and a mechanical bull" he says knowing you can't say no to that.

"Well hell yeah let's go" you yell as you jump off the truck "but I'm showing first as beautiful as that twister was I feel gross" "that's fine get in the truck" Tyler says opening your door then doing around to get in the drivers seat.

After about an hour drive you, Tyler, Boone and the rest of the crew pull into the parking a lot of the hotel. When Tyler parks you get out you stretch your legs, out of the corner of your eye you see Scott and Javi walking over to the truck and you start to smile.

"So how you fun sweetheart" Scott ask as he gets closer, your heart flutters at the nickname and you smile.

"After Tyler fixed the drill yes it was amazing and so beautiful, it was nothing like I have ever seen before!" you beam

"Yeah we saw the stream that shit was crazy" Javi said

"Yall watched the stream really?" you say looking at Scott feeling a little embarrassed due to your freak out, but also giddy knowing Scott watched. From what you have been told Scott never watches the stream.

"Yeah of course we watched couldn't miss your first chase Dr. Owens" Javi said "Plus Scott wanted to make sure you were ok he about had a heart attack watching" he looks over to Scott and smirks. Scott's eyes go wide and his face turns beat read.

You feel the blood rushing to your cheeks knowing Scott was worried about you "You were worried about me" you say softly with a smile

"Well...you know...driving straight into a tornado...isnt umm safe..." Scott is stumbling over his words but its the cutest thing you have ever seen.

"Thats sweet of you to worry" you say and shift your from one leg to another. "So we are going to this country bar down the street to celebrate my first chase if yall wanna join" You say looking in between the guy. "theres karaoke and a mechanical bull" you say in a sing song voice adding "oh and plenty of jack daniels cant forget the whiskey" you laugh

The guys look at each other and nod before Scott reply's "yeah sounds fun. What time you thinking" "Hold on let me ask Ty" say before turning around calling your brothers name.

Tyler heads you way looking at Scott then to you, "Whats up sis" "I asked Scott and Javi to join us they wanna know what time" You see your brother's eyes narrow at you and the two of you have a silent conversation you can tell he doesn't want Scott to come but he also has never been able to say no to his little sister. "I was thinking around 8 that good, gives my crew time to shower and all"

"Yeah sounds good" Javi says and Scott nods.

"Great well I'm gonna shower get all the grossness off me and get ready I'll see yall in a bit" you say with a smile letting your eyes linger on Scott for a second longer, then you head to your room, looking even more excited about tonight.

After you shower, you do your makeup in a darker smokey eye with a nude lip stick and decide to leave your hair down and just straighten it. After looking at everything you own at least 100 times you finally decide on an orange halter that ties at the waist some cut off short shorts and of course your cowgirl boots and hat. You are from Texas after all!

As youre putting the finishing touches on you hear the door and see your brother come in dressed in his cowboy getup, he got ready ready in Bonne and Dexters room to give you some privacy.

"oh hell no you better change that is so much skin and those shorts are way to short" Tyler says putting his hands on his hips trying to give you the same look yalls dad gives you.

"No this outfit is cute and I showed more skin at the longhorn games in my cheer outfit"

"Year well I didn't like that outfit either"

"You did on my ZBZ sisters" Tyler didnt have an argument and he knew it

"Fine lets go" Tyler rolls his eyes and opens the door as you grab your stuff smirking knowing you won

You get to the bar you head inside to meet everyone. Tyler had told you on the way over that his and Javi's friend Kate was coming in from NYC and her plane just landed so she would also be joining everyone.

After your hellos to the crew you head to the bar for your first drink of the night. You stand there for a few moments before the bartender comes over to get your drink order. "Can I get a double jack and coke with a lime please" The bartenders nods and lets you know he'll be back in a few. You look over to your brother and his crew and see a new girl hugging your brother, that must be Kate shes pretty you think to yourself and by the way your brother is looking at her he thinks so too.

The bartender comes back with your drink "Thats $12 miss" you reach into your pocket to pull out your card when a voice stops you "Put her drinks on my tab tonight and can I bud light in a bottle" you look over and see Scott handing the bartender his card, and oh have mercy does this man look amazing.

He's out of his white StormPar button up and blue slacks and instead wearing a tight black tee shirt with blue jeans. He's still wearing his ball cap but no sunglasses. It takes your brain to catch up to your mouth so you can speak.

"Scott thank you but you don't have to keep paying for my stuff" you say with a laugh

"I know I just wanted to buy a beautiful girl a drink" when he says that you know your blushing hard, so you look away. The bartender comes back with his beer and Scott thanks him and takes a sip and looks over to you.

Before you can say anything else to get your flirt with Scott your brother is by your side slinging his arm around your shoulder "hes such a cock block" you think to yourself. "Y/n this is Kate the friend i was telling you about, Kate this is my little sister "Dr. Y/n Owens" you roll your eyes wgen he calls you by the formal name.

"Just Y/n is fine please its nice to meet you my brother says good things about you" you see your brother blush

The four of you stand at the bar and talk( well you and Kate talk your brother and Scott just stare at each other) and finish your drinks

"Y/n" everyone turns at the sound of your name and sees Javi and Boone heading for the bar "Wanna do a shot with us toast your first chase" Javi ask. "Hell yes I never turn down a shots" you say waving the bartender over. " 6 shots of jack and can I get another jack and coke please" Y/n says, once again trying and failing to pull her card when Scott stops her.

"I told you sweetheart your drinks are on my tab tonight" you smile at the name and you hear your brother go to say something but you elbow him in the stomach then hear Boone choke on his drink laughing.

" I'm not gonna have you pay for everyone" "It doesn't matter its on me" he says and tells the bartender to once again add it to his tab.

The bartender comes back with all 6 shots and your drinks a few minutes later. You all hold up your shot glasses when Boone speaks up

"May all your ups and downs and in's and out's be under the covers bottoms up" you all laugh and do your shots

Another couple drinks later you have a little buzz going and have got more of a nerve to flirt with Scott, even with the daggers keep throwing your way.

"So Y/n T tells us you have a good voice you gonna get up there and sing for us" you here Boone ask from across the table. "I was planning to, I was queen of karaoke at the ZBZ house" "Well sis noone is up there go do your thing" Tyler says Before you can say anything the whole table is begging you to go you roll your eyes and down your drink and head to the stage

You pick your go to song (Heads Carolina, Tails California ) grab the mic, and take a deep breath its been so long but hearing your friends and brother cheering you on makes you smile. You nod your head to the DJ and the song starts

"Baby, what do you say we just get lost

Leave this one horse town like two rebels without a cause

I've got people in Boston, ain't your daddy still in Des Moines

We can pack up tomorrow, tonight let's flip a coin"

As you're signing you look and see Scott smiling from ear to ear. You wonder what he thinks of your singing voice and hoping you dont mess up. You start getting more comfortable on stage and start to add some dancing. As the last part of the song some up you hear your brother yell "Thats my sister" and you smile

"Oh, heads Carolina, tails California

Somewhere greener, somewhere warmer

Up in the mountains, down by the ocean

Where it don't matter, long as we're goin'

Somewhere together, I've got a quarter

Heads Carolina, tails California

Oh California, ooh-ooh, ooh yeah

Carolina

California"

When the song some to an end you make your way over to the table everyone giving you high fives and telling you how good you sound. You make it to your seat over by Scott and see he's smiling.

"You have a really good voice" he says as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug and you felt the butterflies go crazy.

"Thank you I guess if storm chasing doesnt work out I can always move to Nashville" you laugh.

All of a sudden the music and you hear the tunes of Dylan Scott "Can't have mine" and Scott holds his hand out to you "Can I have this dance" all you can do is not and he leads you out on the dance floor.

You and Scott dance in comfortable silence for a minute before he speaks up.

"I'm really happy you came to chase with your brother, I really like you Y/n"

"I really like you too Scott" you say before laying your head on his chest.

When the songs ends you and Scott are still dancing lost in your own little world. When you finally pull apart you look over to the table and see everyone looking with smiles on their face, well everyone but you brother who is looking like he wants to throw Scott in the middle of a tornado.

You go back to the table hand in hand with Scott. After another couple rounds everyone at the table starts to break off some going back to the hotel some playing pool and others we wont name names(Boone is trying to get someone to go home with him).

Its after 1 in the morning and you are ready to go the days events catching up to you, but your brother just started a game of 2 on 2 pool with Javi Kate and Lily so Scotts offers to take you back to the hotel. You text your brother to let him and head out to Scotts truck.

He opens the door and helps you in then goes to the drivers side. The hotel is only a few miles down the road so the trip doesn't take long, before you know it you are pulling into the parking lot. Scott parks the truck and runs to your side to help you out. The small gesture makes your heart beat faster.

Scott walks you up the stairs and to your door. You both stands there looking at each other before you break the silence. "Here take my number" Scott smiles and hands over his phone for you to put the number in, then you send yourself a text so you have his.

"I had a great time tonight and thank you for the dance and all my drinks, you're gonna have to let me pay back one day" you smile and laugh

"I'll dance with you anytime sweetheart, as for the drinks you never have to pay me back I'll buy you're drinks anytime" He says with a smile.

You unlock your door and look back at him "Good night Scott" "Good night sweetheart" he says then he leans in and presses his lips you yours.

The kiss is short and sweet and has you seeing stars. You can tell from that one kiss you want it all with this man. You pull away and smile at him as you walk into your room and close the door. You touch your lips wondering if that just really happened...Yes Yes it did.

You take off your make up brush your teeth and get ready for bed. As you are crawling under the covers you hear your phone ding..

🩵ScottyBlueEyes🩵: Good Night beautiful

You text him back put your phone up and turn off the light, and you go to sleep with the biggest smile. This is the start of something beautiful you just know it.

[archivequinn]

Closure — Eddie Munson.

warnings: angst, depression, grief, mention of the death of a family member (his mother), nightmares, pain, sad themes, broken heart, smoking, illness, mention of his father's terror at home, grave, longing and tiredness, crying. (Please let me know if I forgot something)

Eddie adjusts leather jacket, takes a drag on cigarette, exhales slowly. The house stands like a skeletal remains of memories past, its once-white walls now faded to a dull grey from years of neglect. The windows are boarded up, the shutters hanging crookedly like broken wings. A thick layer of dust coats every surface, making it hard to distinguish between old furniture and mere shadows.

A sheet drapes over the worn-out couches and chairs like a shroud, as if trying to smother the last remnants of life within those walls. Cobwebs cling to chandeliers and lampshades like macabre decorations. In the corners, shadows writhe and twist like restless spirits trapped between worlds.

The air inside is heavy with stagnation and decay - stale air that's been locked away for decades, now reeking of rot and mildew. The floorboards creak underfoot with each tentative step, their groans echoing through the empty halls like ghostly whispers.

''It's a haunting sight, really…'' takes another drag. ''A testament to love lost, dreams faded, and lives that once echoed through these rooms but now lie silent as the grave."

He pauses, takes a deep breath, and exhales slowly. He pushes the creaking door of the house and goes in. "Oh man… looks around the room with a mix of nostalgia and pain This place… it's like stepping back into my childhood hell. The memories come flooding back, but they're all bittersweet.

As I walk through the front door, I'm hit with the same stale air that's been trapped inside for years. It smells like decay and forgotten dreams. The once-vibrant colors on the walls have faded to dull hues, just like my mom's smile after she passed away.

I wander into the living room, where we used to spend hours together as a family. My eyes land on the old piano Mom taught me how to play on. It looks dusty and worn out now, just like our relationship with Dad did in those final years. I can almost hear Mom's gentle voice guiding my fingers as I played, but it's drowned out by the echoes of Dad's yelling and belittling.

I move into the kitchen, where we used to have family dinners that always ended in arguments. The same old table is still there, covered in a thick layer of dust. I remember how Dad would sit at the head of the table, his eyes cold and unforgiving, while Mom tried to keep us all together with her warmth and love.

Upstairs, our bedrooms are just as they were when I left this place behind. My childhood bed looks like it hasn't been slept in since then - unmade and dusty. It's hard to believe so much time has passed since those sleepless nights filled with fear and anxiety because of Dad's nightmares.

As I walk through these rooms again after all these years, I'm hit with a mix of emotions - sadness, anger, and nostalgia. It's like reliving the same pain all over again. But maybe this time, I can face it head-on and find some closure."

He pauses, eyes widening in surprise "Whoa… he gets down on his hands and knees to grab the box What's this doing here? I haven't seen this thing since… rummages through the contents of the box.

It's a bunch of old stuff from when I was a kid. There are some drawings I made, some notes from school, and… pulls out a small guitar pick with my name engraved on it. Oh man, Mom gave me this. She said it would bring me good luck with music.

And there's also a letter addressed to me. It's from Mom. He unfolds the letter and begins to read.

''Dear Eddie,

I know things have been tough lately with your dad being so mean all the time. But please remember that you're loved no matter what. You're an amazing kid with a heart full of music and kindness. Don't let anyone ever make you feel like you're not good enough.

I'm so proud of the person you're becoming, even if it's hard to see right now. Keep playing your guitar and singing from your heart. You have a gift that can bring joy to others.

With all my love, Mom''

His hands tremble, feeling a lump form in his throat "Man… clears his throat I had forgotten about this letter. It's like she knew exactly what I needed to hear back then.

As I sit here surrounded by these old memories, I feel a mix of emotions - sadness because things didn't work out between Mom and me before she passed away, but also gratitude for the time we had together and the lessons she taught me.

This box is like a time capsule from my childhood, reminding me of the good times and the struggles I faced. It's a reminder that even in the darkest moments, there is always hope and love to be found." smokes his cigarette in silence for a moment before speaking again.

He finds a photo in the box. This photo is like a punch to the gut. I remember this day so clearly. Mom was already sick by then, but she still had that spark in her eyes when we took this picture.

She's sitting on the hospital bed, and I'm hugging her tightly around the waist. Her arms are wrapped around me too, holding me close like she never wanted to let go. We're both smiling for the camera, trying to be brave even though we knew things weren't good.

Mom looks tired and weak in this photo - her skin is pale, and there are dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep or medication or whatever it was they were giving her at the time. But despite all that, she's still got that momma bear strength in her arms, holding me close like she's trying to protect me from the world.

I remember how scared I was that day. I didn't understand what was happening to her, and I knew it wasn't good. But Mom always tried to reassure me, telling me everything would be okay even when it didn't feel like it would be.

This photo is a reminder of the last time we were together before… pauses Before she left us. It's hard to believe so much time has passed since then.

Looking at this photo now, all these years later… sighs It feels like a punch in the gut all over again. The pain and sadness come flooding back, but also the memories of our time together as a family are more vivid than ever.

I get up from the bed and make my way downstairs, my heart pounding in my chest. The stairs creak beneath my feet as I descend into the darkness of our old living room.

When I reach the piano, I hesitate for a moment before lifting the dusty lid. The keys are yellowed and worn out, but they still have that familiar feel to them. plays a few tentative notes

The sound is rough and rusty at first, but as I play on, it starts to come alive again. It's like no time has passed at all - like Mom is sitting right there beside me, her fingers dancing over the keys in perfect harmony.

I play some of our old songs together - Chopin's Nocturne and Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. They're still as beautiful and haunting as I remember them to be. closes his eyes, letting the music wash over him

As I play, all the emotions come flooding back - the joy we shared when Mom was well, the fear and anxiety during her illness, and finally, that devastating loss when she passed away without ever coming home.

But amidst all that pain… opens his eyes There's also this sense of peace. Like Mom is here with me now through this music we created together. It feels like a way for her to stay close even though she's no longer physically here.

So yeah… smiles softly Playing my childhood piano again after all these years… it's like a homecoming, man. It's like I'm finally coming full circle and finding closure."

written with inspiration and assistance from ai

[yanverse]

i would let ilya do illegal things to my cervix, that man is so hot.

oh? :)

(cws: DDNE, gn!darling, noncon, hate sex, blood as lube, knives, impact play, choking, biting, degradation)

"Shut up, just shut up," he huffs in your ear. he says it like he's not half the problem; like the squeaking of the dense bedframe and the sloppy shluck shluck shluck shluck of his hips wetly kissing your ass isn't as noisy as you are. your plump lips swollen from hungry kisses and nips that aren't playful anymore, but possessive--they quiver between Ilya's fingers as his grip loosens somewhat, but when he forces his hand back hard over your mouth the cycle repeats all over again.

his eyes are redder than usual today. a rosy scarlet dyed to a crimson hue. they're dark and angry and they scare you but only a little bit, just a little, cause that pinprick of fear makes you clench harder around him when he bears down on you with that solemn glare. you're a pain in his ass.

so he wants to be a pain in yours.

"you're going to lick it when I'm done here," a growl rumbles through his pale throat, doused in scratches and bite marks. not from you, not today, but from the last inmate on death row who gave him more problems than satisfaction at execution. some of them can be wily, but few ever really manage to retaliate. "no teeth this time."

maybe he had his mind occupied by the stunt you'd pulled the night before. pretending to orgasm, in the hopes he wouldn't drag it out as long as usual? it was a new low for you. it pissed him off. but not quite as much as you biting his finger when he tries to grab your jaw open.

"ah-!" a gasp rips out of him, secondary only to the harsh, echoing smack of his open palm coming down on your cheek. you can barely get a squeak of breath out as his other hand clamps around your throat, which makes the sound of his next slap with a backhand ring torturously in your ears. "don't you ever pull that again!" Ilya yanks you up by the throat no more than an inch from his nose, seething. "you little shit."

still buried within you, he can no doubt feel the distant pulse of your heartbeat through his groin. it gets thicker when he sees blood, tastes it--there's beads of it bubbling at the teeth marks on his finger. Ilya sighs, groans quietly in the interim of silence. the blood smudges his lips as he sucks on the pulsing wound. something twitches inside you. when his smirk stretches wide and slow across his face, it's obvious that you're in for an even rougher time.

Ilya throws you over on your stomach, cock swollen and aching when he drags it out with a vile squelch. you can't quite see what he's doing from over your shoulder, you're so tuckered out, but you can hear it. the gradual slice of a blade across flesh, the soft hah, ah of pain as Ilya grits his teeth. the wet sliding of flesh on flesh when he brings his hand down and it's sticky, warm with fresh blood that he soaks his stiff length in before fingering into you as if he's performing some kind of demonic sacrifice. the knife clatters to the floor behind him like a ritualistic drumbeat.

"use your teeth if you want." he mutters against your ear as his lithe body slots up against your back, knees poised by your thighs for him to settle his weight down on top of you. no escape. his toned arm comes around and his bicep halts in front of your face--but the grip of his long fingers tightening in your hair is in no way comforting. it isn't a cushion, his body, but a barrier. a wall between you and escape. "you'll want more lube in a little bit anyways."

how ominous. but you couldn't be serene with the elf's dark smirk curving against your ear, and the confidence with which he presses your legs apart to slide in--because you don't get a break, and he doesn't care if you can't take it all. that's not an option for his little sex doll, despite you believing you seriously deserve any rights, which is just laughable. this is what you were made for, so you just have to shut up and take him like a good, obedient pet.

[watarfallar]

since y'all like the incorrect quotes so much, here's some more!

Grian, on the phone: So no head? Grian: *Throws phone and breaks skateboard*

Bdubs: Do you love Grian? Scar: Yeah, I do. Bdubs: Etho! I told you I knew it! You owe me 100 bucks! Etho: We all love Grian. You should've asked if they were IN love with them. Scar: I thought that was implied. Etho: ... Bdubs: ... Scar, looking straight at Etho: Congrats Bdubs, you just won 100 bucks.

Bdubs: You know, Grian gives Scar flowers everyday, I wish you'd do that too. Etho: Okay. *Later* Etho: *gives Scar flowers* Scar: ??? Etho: I don't know, I'm confused as well.

Scar: What are you getting Etho for the holidays? Bdubs: I don't know. It's kind of hard buying a gift for your partner when they already got everything they could've ever wanted when they married you. So I'm not sure yet. Grian: I'm getting Etho a divorce lawyer.

Scar: *sees Etho and Bdubs together* Scar: They're cute. I would put them on a boat. Grian: You mean... you ship them?

Scar: Hey Etho, wanna third wheel on my date with Grian tomorrow? Etho: Sure. Scar: Bdubs! Wanna third wheel on my date with Grian tomorrow? Scar: Great! I've always wanted to go on a double date! Etho & Bdubs: ... Grian: Scar...

Bdubs: Why are your tongues purple? Grian: We had slushies. I had a blue one. Scar: I had a red one. Bdubs: oh. Bdubs: Bdubs: OH. Etho: Etho: You drank eachothers slushies?

Grian: I love you. Scar: I love you too. I've waited so long to hear you say that. *Grian and Scar kiss passionately* Etho, to Bdubs: You owe me 20 dollars.

Etho: I never said I was gonna get back together with them. But I was thinking, they're in town, would it be the worst thing in the world if I gave them a call? Scar: No. No, Etho, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. It would be the fourth worst thing. Number one: a super volcano. Number two: an asteroid hits the Earth. Number three: All the Evel Knievel movies are lost. Number four: Etho calls Bdubs. Number five: Grian gets eaten by a shark. Grian: I’m Grian, and I approve the order of that list.

*Trying to cheer Bdubs after a break up* Grian: You broke up with Etho for a reason. Bdubs: I know, I know. I’m just so tired of missing them. Tired of wondering why they haven’t called. Why haven’t they called? Scar: Maybe because you told them not to. Bdubs: What are you, the Memory Person?

Scar: I'm so happy, I could kiss you! Grian: Um...Neat. *later* Grian, lying face down on their bed: I said "Neat," Etho. Who the fuck says neat these days? It's not neat to say neat but I said it anyways because I'm fucking stupid. Etho, reading a book: Don't beat yourself up too much, Grian. Everyone gets nervous sometimes. Remember what I did when Bdubs confessed their love for me? Grian: Didn't you thank them? Etho: *closes the book and looks at the ceiling* I fucking thanked them.

Scar: *yawns* Grian: Yeah, being that pretty must be tiring. Scar: Then you must be exhuasted. Bdubs: Will you two shut up? Some of us are lonely.

Scar: Why doesn’t Grian find me sexy when I bite my lip? Etho: What do you look like when you bite your lip? Scar: *bites lip* Etho: ...Have you considered biting your bottom lip instead?

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

"Wow, Lily!" Remus exclaimed as soon as he saw her "You look lovely..." she smiled "I didn't know this was formal, otherwise I would have worn something else" he added, looking at himself.

Lily Evans looked beautiful today. She was a pretty girl on daily basis. But today she was radiant. She had made the effort of picking up a nice dress and she had put on makeup with bit of glitter on her eyes, and she had straightened her hair. Instead of lose curls, her locks were perfectly combed.

"Thanks" Lily blushed.

That made Remus even more nervous. He had been trying to convince himself that this was just a hang out between friends. But everything just indicated otherwise.

"Look, I'm wearing the necklace you gave me"

Remus had to admit it suited her.

"Oh! Nice!"

Bloody James Potter. Ever since the incident with the necklace on Lily's birthday, the girl had been acting odd. Remus had lied and said that the necklace he gave her was his mum's when it was James who bought it for her.

"Moony," James had begged with puppy eyes "Lily is not accepting it coming from me. But she's gonna love it coming from you! She hates me but she likes you well enough"

If James wanted to conquer Lily, he was doing a terrible job by giving Remus all the credit.

"Are you sure you don't want it back?" Lily asked unsure. "It was your mum's after all"

Remus regretted this so badly. But he had promised James that he wasn't going to say anything.

"Noo! Noo!" he exclaimed "Keep it, honestly! It looks better on you"

Remus wished Lily wouldn't be looking at him like that when she should be looking at James. He purchased the expensive jewel after all.

"You look nice as well, Remus"

Were Lily's eyes sparkling?

"With this old sweater?" he pointed to himself.

"It suits you. It is nice" Lily smiled, putting a lock of hair behind her ear.

Remus liked Lily Evans because she was cool, funny and different than any girl that had made his life impossible in the past. It was easy between them. They didn't have awkward moments. They were genuine around each other.

So, why was Lily acting weird? God no, please no. Remus had only accepted this as friends. Lily couldn't fancy him. James would kill him.

"So..." Remus cleared his throat, as if he could break the awkwardness between them "What's the plan?"

"I was thinking we can go to the cinema in the castle!" Lily exclaimed "Sometimes they play good movies"

Watch a movie in silence. Good. Remus could do that.

"Sounds great"

Lily giggled "Cool"

"Lead the way..."

Friends watched movies together, right? Lily probably wanted to hang out with Remus because she didn't have anything better to do. Right?

The walk to the cinema room was painfully weird. There was silence between them. Remus was used to Lily speaking bollocks that made him laugh. Now, she was eyeing him every two seconds and smiling to herself.

"Never been to the Hogwarts cinema before"

"Oh, me neither" Lily confessed "Severus didn't like it..." she swallowed as if mentioning him hurt her. Remus knew that twat had been her only friend but they didn't speak to each other anymore. Remus didn't know why.

"And I didn't want to go by myself..." Lily continued "I heard they only play old movies anyway but some are good..." she looked at him "Good thing I have you now to go"

Remus faked a giggle "It is odd to go to a school that has its own cinema" he said "It would be a nice experience"

"Yeah I guess" Lily let out a soft chuckle.

"What are you in the mood to watch?" Remus asked.

"Ha?" Lily blinked in surprise.

"What kind of movie?" Remus clarified.

"Oh" Lily sighed "Maybe a romance"

Oh fuck...

This wasn't a date. This wasn't a date. This wasn't a date.

Although it looked like a date when they arrived to the place. The movie for today was good: Ten things I hate about you. But nobody inside cared about the movie per se. There were only couples snogging.

Not only Remus got uncomfortable but Lily as well, as they looked at each other and blushed.

They already bought the tickets. Too late to ran away.

"Do you... Want to sit over there?" Lily pointed to an empty corner.

"Sure"

Lily led him to one of the front rows to the right side. The movie hadn't started yet. So they heard the kissing noises, sighs and giggles around them. Remus was too disgusted and nervous to eat but he stuffed popcorn to his mouth to have something to do.

"Have you watched this movie?" Lily asked to break the silence.

"Yeah it is really good" he answered "Have you watched it?"

"It is one of my favorites" Lily smiled.

And when she scooped closer, Remus moved away.

This was a bad idea. A terrible one.

"Shame nobody is paying attention" Lily looked around. Then she moved closer to Remus.

"Stupid people" Remus chuckled, moving further and further away from Lily "What's the point of coming to a theatre to snog? They can do that anywhere"

Lily looked at him curiously. "True" she nodded, then sighed "It must be nice, though, to snog someone..."

Shit, shit, shit....

"I mean obviously, not here!" Lily clarified going red as a tomato "Or now! But like... Like snog someone that you really really fancy... You know like after the movie and when the bloke walks you to your house, or your dorm in this case...."

As Lily spoke, Remus imagined the scene in his mind. It used to be amusing to hear her talk before but Remus didn't know what to do when Lily was flirting with him... Potentially!

"And then you and him are both so happy and at ease that everything seems perfect... And the bloke just kisses you right before you say goodbye... And he thinks about you all night long and you think about him as well..."

Bam! Remus felt the pain on his butt as he fell to the floor. He had been unconsciously moving away from Lily so quickly that he fell from the seat.

"Oh! Are you okay, Remus?" Lily asked.

Remus groaned in pain, maybe he could pretend to be so hurt that he could cancel the whole thing.

"Yeah... Yeah" he said as he stood up and got back into his seat "I'm delightful"

Remus wished he didn't feel sorry for leaving Lily alone. She was laughing now.

"You are different than other boys I know, you know?" she smiled as she ate some popcorn "Sweet and adorable"

Why couldn't Remus be a prick so Lily could stop imagining nonsense?

Before Remus could respond, the movie began and Remus was thankful. Maybe he could ignore her until the movie was over and by that time he would have figured a gentle way to reject her. Or maybe tell her the truth about the necklace and let bloody James deal with the consequences.

Although everyone was distracted by an annoying and loud feminine laughter that entered the room. Remus heard a few "Sh sh". And when he turned to see who this annoying girl was, Remus was surprised to see Alecto Carrow. This was the girl Sirius had been snogging for the last couple of weeks. Remus knew this because watching them provoked an indescribable pain on his chest and a horrible rage that made him want to pull that girl's long black hair.

And fuck his luck because today she was entering the bloody cinema with none other that Sirius Black himself.

Remus sunk on his chair and he noticed Lily getting very very pale, trying to cover her face as well.

Remus hadn't told Sirius or any of the Marauders about his plans with Lily this evening. He had heard James saying the team was going to have an extra practice. And Remus assumed Sirius would follow him.

Remus couldn't say no when Lily asked him to "hang" early this week. But the counting days to the present, Remus had been divided in between canceling Lily and disappointing her or convincing himself Lily just wanted to do something as friends and only that.

Now Sirius was the last person that should find him in this predicament.

And thanks to Remus's shitty luck, he and his stupid girl sat in the row in front of them.

"Do you want me to get you anything?" Remus heard Sirius asking her in a low voice.

Thank God he hadn't noticed them. Maybe it was the fact that Remus and Lily were both very sunk on their chairs and practically covering their faces with the popcorn bag and soda respectively.

"No, darling" Alecto shook her head "I don't eat that garbage"

"Good thing" Sirius smirked "You're sweet and tasteful enough"

His comment provoked a loud laugh from his companion that made everyone shush her again. Although Remus saw Sirius rolling his eyes when she didn't notice. Was he getting bored of her already?

"Remus..." Lily leaned to whisper, he face covered by her large soda "Did you tell... him... about..."

"No!" Remus whispered back before Lily said 'our date'.

"Maybe we should go somewhere else" Lily whispered and Remus saw her very red and worried "Black is gonna ruin everything"

Remus couldn't agree more. Even though he wanted this date or whatever it was ruined. He didn't want Sirius to see him.

"I've seen this movie plenty of times already" he commented.

"Me too" she whispered back.

They nodded in agreement. They had to get out of here. It was sickening anyway the way Sirius was trying to put his arm around the girl, how they were smiling at each other and possibly leaning in to snog...

But as Remus was moving, he tripped (his stupid luck again), and all the popcorn fell on top of Alecto's head. She screamed, making everyone look their way.

Sirius turned furiously "Hey, wanker! Watch..." he stopped when he recognized him, his eyes widened "Moony?"

Remus was frozen. Then Sirius’s eyes moved towards Lily who was trying her best to cover her face.

"Evans?" Sirius asked. Then looked suspiciously between the two.

Alecto was watching them curiously.

Lily faked a smile but her face was as red as her hair or even more.

"What a coincidence, ha?"

It was Lily who was shushed this time.

*****

“What I do in my free time is none of your business, Black! And I shouldn’t give you explanations of what I do or don’t do!”

It was after the incident that they had been kicked out of the room. The four of them. They didn’t seem to care much, expect for Alecto maybe. But Sirius had bombarded Remus and Lily with questions. And Lily was the one who had the courage to answer.

“Is it wrong to go out with Remus?” Lily continued “He is not only your friend, you know? You don’t own him! And he is free to do whatever he wants!”

In the meantime, Sirius couldn’t move his eyes away from Remus. And Remus had his eyes fixed on the floor.

“It’s okay, sweety!” Alecto exclaimed “Nobody cares that you’re on a date with him”

“We’re not in a date!” Remus and Lily protested at the same time. He looked at her in surprise, and she looked away as she blushed.

“I think you make a pretty good couple” Alecto continued, ignoring them.

“We’re not a couple” Lily got even more red “And if we were, I wouldn’t tell you, It is none of your business”

It was then that Sirius started laughing. Remus knew this was more of a Sirius’s reaction. Everything was amusing to him. He wanted the world to entertain him. The bastard.

“What’s so funny, Sirius?”

“Prongs is gonna love this!” Oh shit “Did you bring Evans here to snog her behind his back?”

For a second Remus wished that Sirius was jealous of the whole thing, but he was just taking the piss.

“Oh, that’s right” Alecto nodded amused “Potter used to have a crush on you, right Lily?”

Why did Sirius had to go out with the most stupid girls?

“We came here as friends!” Remus said. He side glanced at Lily. She was looking down with embarrassment.

“You know that bringing someone to the Hogwarts Cinema is for a good snog, right?” Sirius smirked, looking between the two.

That explained all the couples from before.

Alecto gasped “Is that why you brought me here?”

“Well, I did want to snog you” Sirius confessed, just like that. Remus rolled his eyes.

Lily, on the other hand, was red as a tomato and looked very embarrassed.

“I didn’t know, Sirius” Remus sighed with exasperation “I’ve never been”

Remus didn’t know that with that comment, Sirius and Alecto’s eyes would turn to Lily.

“Wow, Evans” Sirius spat “Trying to get advantage of my Moony?”

“Lily!” Alecto exclaimed, with that annoying laughter of hers “I admire your courage. Asking a boy out and insinuating a snog must be challenging…”

God, there were making her look like a…like a… Remus couldn’t say it.

“You’re gonna break Prongs’s heart” Sirius added “I hope you don’t do the same with Moony”

“Going for all the friend group, ha?” Alecto teased, then grabbed Sirius’s arm “Well Sirius is out of the market, darling”

Remus couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He turned to look at Lily who had her eyes filled with tears. When she noticed Remus was looking at her, she looked so embarrassed that she ran away as fast as she could.

“Lily!” Remus called for her, but she ran fast.

“Oops” Alecto said “Did we say something wrong?”

Remus was furious. He might’ve not like Lily that way, but he cared for her.

“You can be a complete, arsehole sometimes, Sirius!” Remus snapped. Only to Sirius. He didn’t care about the fake of Alecto. “I don’t recognize you when you behave like this”

Sirius seemed uncomfortable “Moony, it was a joke…”

“Fuck off!”

“You are the one having a date with Evans!” Sirius snapped, but Remus ignored him.

Remus got out of there before Sirius could say anything else. Sometimes he couldn’t believe how much Sirius had grown. Sometimes he was far from what that sweet ten-year-old boy used to be. Sometimes Remus couldn’t believe he fancied him still.

Sirius wasn’t like this. Not really. He just liked to behave like an idiot sometimes.

Remus found Lily crying in the main patio. His heart broke when he saw her vulnerable like that. People used to make fun of him a lot back at his old school. Lily reminded him of his own self. Pre transition Remus lost and scared because he didn’t want to be different.

Remus took a seat in the bench next to her without saying a word. Lily stopped crying but sniffed a few times.

“I swear I didn’t know that the cinema was a place to snog, Remus!” Lily said with a desperate voice “Like I said, I’ve never been! Now I never want to go back” she shook her head “What? People just don’t fancy watching a movie these days? Bloody hell!!”

Remus found himself smiling.

“It’s okay” he said “It is not your fault. People are just stupid to prefer a snog than a good movie or worse a good book”

“Right?” Lily snorted “What do they have in their brains? Mud?”

Remus shrugged.

“A good book doesn’t break your heart” Lily said, sounding more like the girl he knew.

“Or give you herpes”

“Or make your lips swollen”

“Or pass you their saliva”

“Eeew!”

Remus giggled and Lily followed. Suddenly things were going back to normal.

“Remus, can I ask you something?”

Remus looked at her. “Of course, Lils”

“And can you be honest?”

Remus nodded, and placed a hand on his heart “I solemnly swear”

“Do you…” Lily swallowed “Do you like me?”

"Of course!” There was no doubt.

“No but, like like me…”

“Oh” God, not this again. Remus didn’t want to break her heart or lose her. She was a golden friend. One of the few people that understood what it felt to feel like an alien in this school.

“You’re a lovely girl, Lily…” he started “But…”

Lily let out a breath of relief.

“It’s okay if you don’t” Lily explained “It’s just that after my birthday…” she unconsciously grabbed the necklace on her neck “Mary and Marlene had been filling my head about how you must fancy me, because a boy doesn’t give necklaces like this to a friend, besides, it is your mum’s…”

Well, the necklace was from the boy that fancied her, but it wasn’t Remus.

“Oh Lils,,,” Remus was finding the right words to say.

“I just wanted to believe that idea…” Lily said, blushing again “I thought how we got along so well, and I just felt comfortable around you… And I filled my head with this story of a nice romance between us… That’s why I asked you on this date…”

So, it was a date!

“But it was so uncomfortable, wasn’t it?”

“It’s because we are not meant to be more than really good friends, Lily” Remus said with a smile “I’m not the bloke for you”

That was James. She didn’t know that yet.

Lily let out a soft chuckle.

“It was an awful date, anyway” Remus added.

Lily gasped “Remus!”

They both laughed now, more comfortable than all had been clear.

“I gave you the necklace because I like you” Remus thought he ought to cover for James still “Maybe not like that. But I do like you” he added “I swear that I’ve never gotten along with a girl before. And it feels pretty great….”

Lily nodded “Hence my confusion”

“It is easy with you. We can talk about anything. And we like the same books. And we like to complain about my dumb friends…”

“Your friends are really really dumb” Lily giggled.

Remus thought about James. He thought about Sirius’s comments, did he have to be an idiot?

“Sorry about Sirius” he said “I know you think he is a twat but sometimes he says mean things because he feels attacked or doesn’t like something”

Lily shook her head “So, he was jealous of us?”

“Ha?” Remus wished his cheeks weren’t on fire.

“Potentially if we were dating” Lily concluded “He wouldn’t like it, I bet”

“Why?”

“Because Potter would feel like I am a lost game and Black wouldn’t like that, right?”

For a second Remus had hope that Sirius was jealous because he fancied him back. But Lily was right.

“And maybe Potter would finally leave me alone” Lily bit her lip “Remus, would you date me?”

Remus grinned “As much as I would like to help you…” he said “I appreciate my integrity, and James would kill me if I were to date you”

Lily scoffed “He doesn’t own me!” then grabbed his arm “I can date any boy I fancy”

“But you don’t fancy me, yeah?”

Lily shook her head carefully “Bloody hell, no. Don’t get angry, Remus"

Remus faked a gasp “You just broke my heart, Lily Evans”

Lily smiled “You rejected me first!”

She hit his arm gently and then she giggled which made Remus smile. He was so glad Lily and him were okay. That nothing had changed between them.

“Bloody Mary and Marlene” Lily tutted “I’m glad we sorted this inquiry”

Remus was glad as well “Yeah me too”

Lily was still grabbing his arm, but Remus didn’t care. This was how it was supposed to be. Just good friends. Comfortable around each other.

Then he added “Hungry?” he asked “Want to go grab something to eat?”

“Yeah, please!” Lily exclaimed “It’s a date”

Remus raised an eyebrow.

Remus faked a gasp “You just broke my heart, Lily Evans”

Lily smiled “You rejected me first!”

She hit his arm gently and then she giggled which made Remus smile. He was so glad Lily and him were okay. That nothing had changed between them.

“Bloody Mary and Marlene” Lily tutted “I’m glad we sorted this inquiry”

Remus was glad as well “Yeah me too”

Lily was still grabbing his arm, but Remus didn’t care. This was how it was supposed to be. Just good friends. Comfortable around each other.

Then he added “Hungry?” he asked “Want to go grab something to eat?”

“Yeah, please!” Lily exclaimed “It’s a date”

Remus raised an eyebrow.

[spooky-bunnys]

Angst Ran request

The reader has a crush on ran and he does everything to get ran to notice him, trying to talk to him, trying to invite him out to hang outs, even getting gifts. So one day the reader has the courage to write a love letter and hand it to ran. The reader is just nervous hoping ran would accept his feelings but all comes down when ran not only harshly rejects but rips the letter and saying that there was never anything between them

Note: To the person who anonymously asked why I haven't written the requests, it's because I have to want and feel comfortable to write them. Some people don't read what I am and am not okay with writing. I also don't like being rushed to write. Makes me lose the little amount of inspiration I have. But here is this request! Hope ya like it!

Title: Love Confession?

Fandom: Tokyo Revengers

Pairing: Ran x M! Reader

Warnings: MAJOR ANGST, like I'm talking mocking, manipulating, and straight up Ran being a complete ass.

Ran sighed happily as he ate his favorite dessert. (Name) had given it to him after Ran gave him his homework to "help" him finish. Honestly he just didn't want to do it. But Rindou's little friend was ALWAY more then happy to help.

Speaking of Rindou, Ran peak his eyes across the room where Rindou was watching the scene with a small scowl. Ran knows how much the gullible idiot meant to his baby brother. He honestly doesn't know what his little brother sees in him. (Name) was too trusting and nice for his own good.

Maybe thats why Rindou kept him around. To have a little errand boy or maybe so (Name) could buy him stuff he didn't want to pay for. If it was either reason Ran could see it, but deep down he knew it was the innocence and kindess (Name) has that drew in Rindou. Like Ran said before, he was too good for his own good.

Ran shook his head ridding himself of said thoughts. He looked over and saw Rindou open his mouth, but was interrupted when (Name) cleared his throat. Informing Ran he was finished with his homework. As Ran reached for his homework to check over the answers his eyes caught a small red envelope.

He stared at it with a raised brow before looking up and seeing (Name) blush with a proud look. Which was quickly wiped away when Ran huffed a small snort. Ran's snort turned into a small laugh which lead to a loud and amused cackle.

"What is this?"

"I-Its a letter I wrote for you..."

"I can see that. But it almost looks like a love confession letter."

Ran took the silence and (Name) now frozen expression as his answer. That the letter was IN FACT a love confession. Which only amused Ran even more. He ignored the now teary and heart broken (Name) and ripped the envelope without even reading it.

"Well sorry to burst your bubble but I'm already in a very HAPPY relationship. Do you remember the guy that stayed the night last week?"

(Name) didn't say anything. He only nodded. The guy was a huge jerk. Demanding (Name) go and buy them drinks and snack from the convenience store. He tried refusing but when Ran asked him so nicely.

"That was my boyfriend. There isn't anything between us. I only tolerate you because your Rindou's little friend. I honestly don't know where you had the confidence to even think you had a chance with me."

Ran took his silence as a go ahead and finish what he was saying.

"You just thought you could buy me gifts, do my homework, try inserting yourself into my life, and I would just accept your feelings for me?"

(Name) didn't say anything. Just let the tears run down his face as Ran laughed again. He quickly got up and gathered his things before quickly leaving. He couldn't stay here another moment.

As (Name) ran away from the Haitani household, the brothers were still where they sat. Ran was still happily laughing his head off as Rindou stared heartbroken at the ajared front door. Was Ran the only reason (Name) wanted to be around him?

Or was he actually Rindou's friend? At this point, he wasn't too sure. As he stared at his wheezing brother, Rindou could only feel shame and pity that (Name) had fallen for him. Maybe Rindou could use this in his favor, though. What if he used this to get (Name) to like him instead?

[glitchychara]

Amnesia

Tyler One Shot, 3,384 words

I really hate puzzles. It's weird, because I'm more of a problem solving girl, but puzzles just piss me off for some reason. I hate TVs too. I don't know what it is about them, but they just bug me. Mario's always watching some stupid thing on the TV, which kinda makes me wanna smash it to pieces with a hammer. Again, it makes no sense to me since I don't mind playing video games with them, even when I keep losing to everyone because I've never played before. It's just the TV in general, I guess. Although I recently learned my biggest trigger is TV static. I don't know why, but I get weird flashbacks everytime I hear it. Even though it was only once since I've been here. I started seeing images and they filled up my head and I didn't know what was going on and then someone reached out and I couldn't see who it was so I swung but it turned out to be Meggy so she blocked me and she asked me if I was okay and then-

And then I got up. And I left. And I came back a few hours later. And they never brought it up. Nor have I heard any TV static since. 

But anyways, Meggy and Smg4 took me to the doctor yesterday, which I don't know why a centaur would wanna be in the medical field, nor did I trust the guy, but at least he was gonna tell me exactly what was wrong with me….until he gave me my doctors note and it was literally a scribble. Like, excuse me sir, what the HELL is this supposed to be? Chicken scratch?? Anyways I gave it to the axolotl looking guy who was working at the pharmacy and somehow HE KNEW WHAT IT SAID?? I swear I'll NEVER understand doctors. Anyways, he gave me this bottle of pills and sent me on my merry way. Guess who STILL doesn't know what's wrong with her? Me :). So I figured I'd Google what the pills were for and guess what? Apparently I have something called “Amnesia” which, according to Google, means “permanent or temporary memory loss.” 

Huh??

add “doctors” and “pharmacists” to the list of things I hate.

I talked to Three recently, and he asked me if I was going to get my own house. I told him I didn't plan too. “Why not?” he asked, stacking cups next to the coffee machine. I shrugged and continued my task-cleaning out the new pastry display. “Smg4 lets me live in his guest room for free. Why would I wanna pay for a house?” He laughed and asked if I wanted to live with him forever. “Well, not forever, obviously. Just until I go home.” I replied, now adding pastries to the display case. “Tyler. About that…” I turned and looked at him, confused. It was the first time I've ever seen him look sad. “Tyler, you don't even know where you're from. How do you plan on getting home if you can't remember how you got here? Might as well get used to living in the Mushroom Kingdom, you know.” I rolled my eyes and ignored him. What would he know? I'm completely fine living in the castle. It's not like Smg4 does much anyways, other than making videos. Which he should make better, by the way. I mean, he lacks creativity, and a story in general. The whole point of making something is to entertain your audience. How is he going to do that if he's so focused on his “it doesn't have to be perfect” bs? I swear, some people don't deserve their fame, or money, or power or reviews or stars. 

5. stars.

What am I saying? I don't know anything about true art. I've never even made anything myself. Maybe those doctors were right.

Damn Amnesia…

(tagging @its-a-me-mango and @psychologistlemon bc I thought you guys being the doctor/pharmacist was funny)

[hexedwinchester]

Supernatural S04E09 I Know What You Did Last Summer

Unrelated, but Dean's hell flashback (the one with the bloody eye?) Is so good! There's a certain element of horror in that with the blood, the scratchy scream and the frantic eyeroll that makes it really unsettling

alright so out of 600 seals, Lilith only has to break 66 which means it's impossible to stop her from starting the apocalypse. Obviously, no one knows about the last seal until it's broken.. and people still blame Sam for the apocalypse??

i don't know how I feel about Anna.. she is ok but I don't really like her all that much

Sam hustling pool..!! I needed more of that.. 😍 damn you, Ruby 2.0 for interrupting that

Sam to Dean: "you first. How was Hell? Don't spare the details" I miss spicy Sam so muchhh

no wonder this episode is so great and the episodes in the later seasons don't hold the same quality because it's all Sera Gamble's magic at Sam angst

there's something incredibly hot about seeing Sam spread his arms open and taunting the monsters to take their best shot at him

see, see, see.. Hell always wanted Dean.. to break the first seal, like the way they wanted Sam to break the last one

the stained glass church window is so pretty

Angels talk about Dean as their savior but talk Ill of Sam..ughh why doesn't Gamble just nuke us all instead of killing us with the angst??

Damn Gamble, she gave us all Sam goods in this one! The self administered stitches..add that to the list of things I find incredibly hot when Sam does it

anyone else gets distracted by that thick vein in Sam's right arm that runs from his biceps to his wrist??? Likeee yummm??!

So I'm not into disturbing dark romances (looking at you Haunting Adeline) but damn that delicious scene between Sam and Ruby!!! Yummm (yes I know it's dubcon.. it's hot ok, so hot!!!). Also the scene after, where he pins her against a wall, knife at her throat.. phew!! 🥵🥵

ughhhh!!

Just realised.. I have only seen the black eyes on Ruby 2.0 maybe this one time

[addamsology]

WEDNESDAY ADDAMS HEADCANONS:

a big theatre fan but in a historical, tragedy, ancient greek theatre way. she loves plays that have a lot of blood & death and hates musicals—enid is opposite.

a cosplayer but in a really strange way. she only dresses up as characters from books and movies literally nobody has ever heard of and gets annoyed when people's cosplays aren't historically accurate.

not actually allergic to color but instead some dyes in fast fashion clothing. she likes to tell people that the flesh peels off her bones because she finds it funny that they believe her.

enid can't show wednesday tiktoks anymore because she gets genuinely frustrated with how dumb people can be. she keeps saying they need to pick up a book.

doesn't wear any jewellery besides the talisman morticia gave her and a ring that was her great aunt calpurnia.

refuses to go to the doctor because she insists her grandmama or mother has a cure for it.

hates the smell of many things, especially axe deodorant.

has weekly calls with her parents. wednesday insists that she only does it because they're her parents but she does secretly love catching them up on what's going on on her end. she also loves when her uncle fester is there too.

uses charcoal toothpaste.

her nails are either painted black or blood red.

carries a medkit, a sewing kit, and binoculars around with her just in case.

a really talented ballerina but she doesn't dance anymore so nobody knows.

scared pugsley into not wanting to be an astronaut when he's older (he had a massive space phase).

terrible texter and not because she doesn't understand technology but because she is used to just finding people in person when she needs to talk to them—she has a flip phone btw!

major and shameless staring problem.

not grossed out by anything (illness, bugs, blood, etc) besides for toddlers. she thinks they're the most disgusting creatures on earth.

oblivious when people like her but nobody can get their crushes on other people past her.

half castilian spanish, half french. the castilian part is canon on her dad's side because morticia refers to him as a 'mad castilian'. other than that i assume morticia is from some european country, maybe france because she does speak french in canon.

loves spicy and savory foods. she doesn't really like sweet foods and prefers dark chocolate and berry flavoured boild sweets.

writer of all things. novels, poems, plays, everything.

gardens with morticia and fences with gomez.

her typewriter was originally morticia's but she passed it down to wednesday when she started taking a real interest in novels.

doesn't see herself as goth, she just likes what she likes.

speaks five different languages—english, spanish, french, yiddish, and latin. she wants to learn chinese and greek (for enid).

tell people facts when they don't ask.

only listens to classical and gothic music, plus the occasional folk song.

her pulse is naturally very light it's hard to tell if she's even alive (liked playing dead in elementary school to give her teachers and mini heart attack while they searched for her pulse).

middle child syndrome (i know that in wednesday she's the oldest but her being the middle child is very dear to me).

given that she doesn't let too many people in, the people she does end up getting treated like family by her and her family. she comes from a very family orientated background so she naturally is like that.

her parents are the reason her standards are so high. she cannot stand men who disrespect and/or belittle her.

unlabelled. she has a very different view on sexuality in her family because it's not something that is particularly discussed. if you fall in love, you fall in love.

thinks very highly of herself and rarely sees herself in a negative light. she knows she has made mistakes and been selfish but she won't change for anyone, only for herself.

always outside when it's dark or raining or storming but you cannot get her out of her dorm/house if it's really sunny. enid is scared that she'll get hypothermia or isn't getting enough vitamin D.

used to have morticia do her makeup and then have tea parties with gomez.