#david Rossi

[sapphicprentiss]

sapphicprentiss' Five Favorite Criminal Minds Episodes

7x23/24: Hit/Run

@hotch-girl @catgirlspence @demonicbaby666 @lovelyy-moonlight @moonlight-breeze-44 @mmmmmkay77 @nicolacoughlanbigod @lesbiansguidetoanangryinch @babygirl-garcia @garciailoveyou @ry-kills-jemily @buckleyhans @jackiebuckley @unitchiefwives @j3nniferjareauswife @lol-lynn @inlovewithjemily @paulitalblond @falling-forever-in-a-hole @lover-of-books-and-tea @kalexdanversfan @chaoticdragonrage @eveljerome @blownawcy @charleyspiderman @jenny-from-the-bau @neve-gallus-girl-detective

[carisc4pshaw]

When the Music Fades

In which Autistic Spencer Reid and Neurodivergent Reader go to a Easter Party hosted by Penelope Garcia and end up having to share a bed at the end of the night where Spencer confesses his feelings. (Fluff!)

word count: 3.6k

tags: one bed trope, fake relationship/ fake boyfriend trope for a minute, autistic spencer reid, neurodivergent reader, anxiety, overwhelmed, easter, party, mentions of jelle, mentions of morcia, spring, dealing with mental health, love confession, first kiss, sharing clothes. Mentions of Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, Elle Greenaway, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi.

No warnings

notes: This fic is a request from @dearreidr I hope you enjoy this! If you have any requests feel free to leave them below or dm me!

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For easter Penelope was hosting a party at her apartment. She did this for every holiday and just like every other party she had to practically beg Spencer to attend. He was shy and didn’t like drinking and something about Penelope’s parties was that there were always multiple people just as full of colour as she was which was slightly overwhelming and there was always a themed punch with way too much alcohol mixed together. 

This was the first party that you were attending, for the last one, the Christmas party, you were only two weeks into working at the BAU and felt awkward turning up at Penelope’s place for a party when you barely knew anyone. But now, just over 4 months in, you have made friends and connections with the rest of the team. You were particularly close with Penelope, Spencer and Elle. The four of you hung out often outside of work if Penelope wasn’t with Derek, Elle wasn’t with JJ and if Spencer actually left the comfort of his apartment, although you didn’t mind going over to Spencer’s and spending time in his dimly lit living room with a book each just enjoying the quiet and each others company.

The day before the party they had been called in for a case luckily it was nearby and the police department already had a lead. You, Spencer, Elle and Hotch were in one of the SUVs heading to the crime scene when Elle brought up the party. 

“What are you wearing tomorrow?” Elle directed toward you.

You shrugged, “I haven’t thought about it, Penelope said something about costumes but I don’t have anything easter themed.”

“Oh don’t worry about that just pick out a pretty dress and be yourself. What about you Spence?” 

“I wasn’t going to go.”

“What? Penelope said she convinced you!” Elle spun around in the passenger seat to see you and Spencer in the back of the car.

“I’m just not feeling it,” Spencer shrugged it off.

You frowned and faced Spencer, “Please come, I don’t know what I’d do without you there. It’s my first Penelope Garcia party.” If Spencer wasn’t going you didn’t want to go either, you liked everyone else but you felt most comfortable with Spencer not to mention your small crush on him. 

“It’s just awkward, I'm not fun, it’s overwhelming and I don’t drink; that's the whole point of a party.”

“Not to me, it’s just a chance for us to hang out. I won’t drink and the minute we both get overwhelmed we can remove ourselves for a little while. Please?”

Spencer sighed, “I suppose so, you promise right? About the overwhelming thing, not drinking you can drink if you want to I am not going to stop you.”

“I don’t want to I just want to spend time with you, I promise.”

Elle smirked at the both of you, “Alright love birds. That didn’t take much persuading did it?” 

Spencer’s cheeks flushed red as he shrugged and turned to look out of the window so he was no longer a part of the conversation.

—--------------

You threw on one of the nicest dresses you could find in your closet since you don't own many but you wanted to look nice for Penelope’s party along with a pair of white kitten heels and a white bunny ears headband you figured that would be good enough for the costume requirement, it wasn't like you were expected to show up dressed as an easter egg right? 

Anxiety was already filling your chest with the fear of not knowing what to expect and knowing if Spencer didn’t usually like these parties there was a big chance that you wouldn't like it either. 

While you were adding a small amount of pink lip gloss to your lips to go with the small amount of subtle makeup on your face you had one message from Penelope and one message from Spencer come through on your phone.

“You’re staying the night. Bring PJs and snacks and whatever else you need! Maybe a blanket too if not I've got some. See you soon, Kisses XX” -Penelope.

And,

“Hi, I suppose you received a message from Penelope about a sleepover… Are you planning on staying?”

“Would you like me to pick you up? You do not live too far and I don’t mind driving.” - Spencer Reid

You giggled at Spencer signing his message off with his full name but then more nerves overtook you, Penelope’s message didn’t reveal who was staying, what time everyone was leaving in the morning, where you would be sleeping, if there would be breakfast, if you were going to have to stay in groups because surely she didn’t have enough beds for everyone. You caught yourself just before you bit off your nails that you had been growing and doing a good job of so far considering nail-biting was something you did unconsciously when you were anxious or stressed. 

You typed a reply back to Spencer, “Um, I suppose we don’t have a choice really so I guess I am. I would appreciate you picking me up if you really don’t mind thank you. And you don’t have to sign your name Spence, I have you saved.”

You weren't expecting him to reply again, you knew he would check the message and register it but it was unlikely he would reply however this time you were wrong he did reply.

“How are you feeling? I can come sooner if you need to talk about anything?”

You smiled, you had never told Spencer that you necessarily struggled with feeling anxious and overwhelmed but you assumed he had picked up on it due to him being autistic and feeling similar things about similar situations as you did and also with his IQ of 187. 

Y/N: “I'm a little anxious about what to expect but I’m okay, Please just turn up when you are ready. How are you feeling?”

Spencer: “The same as you. I know what to expect though. Do you want a run-through?”

Y/N: “That would be great, thank you.”

Spencer: “Usually, she plays pop music, so I have been told, I think JJ mentioned Taylor Swift. It’s quite loud and the colourful lights are not a great help when It comes to not being overwhelmed but there’s a small green space outside her apartment. It's nice to sit there or in one of the bedrooms when it is getting too much. She had a wide selection of finger foods, there’s a good selection for everyone there will definitely be something you like. There will be unfamiliar faces, she has a lot of friends most with bubbly personalities like hers but they leave at around midnight sometimes even before if there’s a club open.”

Y/N: “Thank you.”

Spencer picked you up at quarter to 9, as he walked to your door he wiped his palms against his brown slacks, he was nervous about the party but in all honestly, he was more nervous to see you. Derek had been telling him for a while now to make a move because he could tell you felt the same way but Spencer would never believe that, what would someone like you see in someone like him? Yes, you had similarities but he was different and you were gorgeous there were definitely prettier men than him out there.

 

He knocked twice on the door, the knock had a certain rhythm that you used when you knocked on his door, he didn't know if it was a signal that you were at his door or if it was just something you did unconsciously like biting your nails. 

You opened the door and stepped back to give a little distance between the two of you, it wasn’t because you didn’t want to be close to him because of course you did he was your favourite person, it was because you didn’t like the feel of people breathing on you for a little while after you had surrounded yourself with people. 

His mouth opened as his eyes ran up and down you, his cheeks also blushed at the same time. You couldn't help a little giggle that escaped your lips, “Hi Spence, You look nice.”

“Hi. You look… beautiful… gorgeous um really nice?” Spencer switched between words not knowing which one would sound best for someone he liked but didn’t want to reveal that he liked you in that way, but he also wanted to make you feel good about yourself because you deserved that and he never wanted you to doubt that you didn’t look good. 

“Thank you,” You grabbed your bag from the small table beside the front door. “Oh Penelope said about snacks and a blanket but I don’t want to take mine off my bed,” You bit your lip.

“She has so many snacks she won’t realise that you didn’t bring any. I didn’t either and she has blankets too.”

You nodded, “Okay, should we go?”

“Yes,” Spencer looked to the left down the hallway before turning back to you and whispering, “Someone is watching us.”

You rolled your eyes, “Probably Steven, he lives on the other end of the floor. He waits for me and Storm, my neighbour, to leave the apartment so he can ask us on dates, he’s a little creepy.”

“Can I hold your hand?” Spencer asked.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Why? I mean yes but why?”

“So he thinks I’m your boyfriend then he will leave you alone.”

“Oh,” You put your hand out allowing him to take it and thanking him before the thoughts started circulating in your brain. Spencer didn’t hold people’s hands, he didn’t like the amount of germs that could be transferred between people holding hands. But he would hold yours?

You locked your apartment with your free hand, your other hand still occupied by Spencer’s warm large hand. You could feel Steven approaching. 

“Hey man, is something wrong?” Spencer asked as he walked over.

“Who are you? Why are you bothering her?” Steven squinted at Spencer.

“He’s not bothering me, Spencer is my boyfriend,” You smiled with a small blush.

“But I’m your boyfriend?” Steven said.

“No, we talked about this, we just live on the same floor Steven, plus you’re a lot older than me.”

“Where are you going? You look nice.”

“We are going out for dinner,” Spencer said, moving his hand from yours to circle around your lower back and rest on your hip, which he regretted when he realised he hadn’t asked for permission to do that. Once Steven nodded and returned to his apartment and you along with Spencer entered the elevator he immediately apologised.

“You have nothing to apologise for, you were helping me out and it felt nice,” You subtly tried to flirt with him. 

“Really?” He asked, opening the car door for you.

“Really,” You smiled getting into the car.

—-----------------

As you both approached the door to Penelope’s apartment the booming music could already be heard. Before he opened the door for you he offered a warm, comforting smile which you returned to signal you were ready to go in if he was. He pushed open the door and immediately you were met with an obscene amount of colourful fairy lights, a disco ball, the even louder music but luckily only around 15 people which was a lot for a small apartment but you could work with that considering most of them probably wouldn’t talk to you anyway.

“Are you okay?” Spencer checked in with you.

You felt a little bad he had his own problems with overwhelming things and adding the worry of if you were okay was probably going to be too much for him and you didn’t want to be the reason why he felt uncomfortable or stressed, “Yes thank you, Spence. Are you okay?”

Spencer nodded, “For now.”

Penelope was the first to come over to the both of you yelling over the music in her usual joyful tone but with added giggles as she had already been drinking, “Finally, I thought you guys had ditched us. Elle and JJ are on the sofa, Emily is getting more punch, Derek is dancing with me obviously and well you have eyes you can find everyone. Make yourselves at home.”

You smiled at her, “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Duh! You're one of my favourites of course you were going to be invited, don’t tell the others though. That goes for you too Smartie Pants don’t tell anyone she’s my favourite,” Penelope rambled.

“Of course, she’s my favourite too,” Spencer blushed as he spoke.

“Enough flattery. I’m going to get a drink if that’s okay?” You directed toward Penelope.

“Yes Doll, help yourself. Mi casa es tu casa,” Penelope replied in a very dodgy Spanish accent before returning to her makeshift dance floor.

You made your way through to the next room only having to weave through a few people before reaching the kitchen when you realised Spencer had followed you there, “Would you like something?”

“No, I’m good thank you, Um I don’t want to leave you but will you be okay if speak to Hotch for a bit?” Spencer asked as his left hand travelled to the back of his neck rubbing it.

“Spence you don’t need my permission you can do what you like,” You smiled picking up one of the blue plastic cups. 

“Oh okay, I’ll see you in a bit,” Spencer walked off leaving you in the kitchen alone for a couple of minutes while you poured your drink before spotting Emily and deciding to stick with her for a while. 

Around an hour later, your social battery was beginning to drain, maybe you needed another drink but you already had one and you didn’t want to risk drinking anymore and getting tipsy from god knows what was in that punch when you had promised Spencer you wouldn’t be drinking. 

A few times you had looked around the room trying to find him to remove yourself from the party for a little while since you were right in the middle of it all but he was nowhere to be seen. After finding Emily she had convinced you to go with her over to the dance floor since the majority of the team were over in that direction. 

A couple of minutes ago you had seen Hotch with Rossi but still no Spencer in sight. You looked at the time on your phone, surely Hotch would be leaving soon to get home to his wife and child and Rossi would probably be going home soon too, perhaps that would prompt other people to start leaving and everything would die down so you could find Spencer. The what-ifs and possible scenarios of how things could go started running through your brain which would cause a panic soon enough.

“Are you okay Sugar?” Penelope asked, snapping you from your thoughts.

You nodded, “Yeah, do you have somewhere I could go and sit for a little while?”

“Mhm, the spare bedroom or the green space outside but I think Spencer went into the spare bedroom not too long ago,” Penelope rubbed the side of your arm.

“Thank you,” You smiled at her and left the front room to search for the spare bedroom, you should have asked where it was, that was your fault but it wasn’t a big apartment it wouldn’t be too hard to find.

—-----------------

Once you had found the only room left with the door closed you knocked on the door lightly in the way that Spencer would recognise.

“Come in,” He called through the door before you pushed it open and closed it behind you.

“Hi, Are you okay?” You asked from the door, you didn’t want to go over to him and interfere in his personal space if he needed a break from social interaction. 

��Just needed a break,” Spencer gave you a soft smile.

“Do you want me to leave?” 

“No, you’re fine here. Are you okay?” 

“Same as you, needed a break it was getting loud.” 

Spencer patted the space on the bed beside him, You perched on the edge of the bed not wanting to be too close to him because you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. 

“I won’t bite,” He laughed so you moved over a little move. 

“What do you like to do when you feel overwhelmed?” Spencer asked. 

“Listen to music usually but right now I definitely don’t want to, my ears need a break, what about you?” 

“Read, usually something with a lot of facts nothing fictional,” Spencer placed his hands on his stomach intertwining both of them. 

You looked down at his hands, “I didn’t think you’d be one for fiction ever.”

“I indulge every so often, it’s good to mix things up they are mostly classics though.”

“No modern romance novels in there Doctor Reid?” You teased. 

“Uhh, I’ve read a couple, they aren’t awful,” Spencer blushed a little which caught your attention. 

“Spencer Reid! What books have you been reading!” 

“Nothing nothing, just something I found at the library once… I should have been sceptical after the 20-something librarian told me it was one of her favourites.”

“I need you to lend me this book if it’s got you blushing like that,” You laugh.

“Um, I think I still have it if you actually do want it?” Spencer said not sure if you were joking or not. 

“Give it to me tomorrow,” You laid on your side facing him. 

“What books do you like to read? I see you with romance novels sometimes.”

“Yeah, mostly romance but also horror or maybe a thriller anything entertaining,” You shrug awkwardly due to how you were lying. 

“Maybe we could both swap books, I’d like to read something you like,” Spencer’s dimples showed through his smile. 

You nodded just before the door was swung open. 

“Hi lovebirds, we are wrapping things up, I just wanted to tell you we’ve agreed to let you two take this room, Derek and I are in my room and everyone else is in the living room,” Penelope said a lot louder than she had to speak considering she wasn’t near the loudspeakers anymore.

“Are you comfortable with that?” Spencer asked you.

“Yeah that’s fine with me and you?” You asked in return out of respect.

“Fine by me, I’d rather it be you than anyone else.”

“Okay great! If either of you needs anything the house is yours help yourself,” Penelope flashed a toothy smile, “Goodnight babies, no sex please,” she said as she left the room leaving you and Spencer blushing and stuttering for a response that never came. 

“That was weird,” Spencer’s cheeks were still a rosy red, “Do you want me to get your bag?” 

“No it’s okay, I forgot to pack pyjamas so I will sleep in this, I don’t know how I forgot,” You groaned. 

“Probably because you were anxious,” Spencer stated before adding, “You could borrow the shirt I brought for pyjamas, I could just wear the bottoms if you are comfortable with that?” 

“Really? Are you sure?” 

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable and I doubt you’re comfy in that, although it’s very nice, you look pretty.”

“You told me earlier,” You giggled, “Thank you.”

Spencer got off the bed taking his shirt and plaid pyjama pants out of his usual go bag for work, “I’ll let you change first uh I’ll wait outside.”

“It’s okay you don’t have to go just turn around,” You smiled to which he nodded. 

Once you were in only his shirt and your underwear you felt a little exposed but luckily his shirt was long and covered everything. You had taken off the little makeup you had on which also made you feel a little bare.

He was in his pj pants with no shirt and he looked good, really good, you both got under the covers facing each other. 

“You look even more beautiful than earlier,” Spencer said before his eyes widened a little, “Wait you always look beautiful.” 

“It’s okay I know what you meant, thanks, Spence.” 

Spencer’s hand inched closer to you, “Maybe. No would it be okay if I kissed you? I have wanted to for a while and-“ 

You cut Spencer off, “You want to kiss me?”

“Um i-if you want?” 

“Yeah… I’d be okay with that.”

Spencer leaned closer to you placing a hand on the side of your face before his eyes fluttered shut while your lips connected. 

It was a soft kiss, slow. No tongue, but it was perfect. One of the best kisses you had ever had. 

When he pulled away he kept his hand on your face, “Was that okay?” 

“More than okay,” You smiled, your eyes crinkled at the sides. 

“Could we go on a date at some point?” Spencer asked with hope in his eyes. 

“Yeah I’d like that,” You placed a kiss on the inside of his wrist as it rested near your mouth. 

His smile grew, “Do you want to sleep?”

“Yeah I’m kinda tired… is that okay?” 

“Of course! I’m going to face the other because I have a thing about people breathing on me,” he said. 

“I have that too!” You laughed, “We will both face opposite ways.” 

After you turned around it didn’t take long for either of you to fall asleep. 

———————-

9 am the next morning Penelope knocked quietly on the door, she assumed you’d be up by now and didn’t want to disturb you but wanted to make sure you were okay. 

When she didn’t get a response she quietly opened the door to see both you and Spencer cuddled together on one side of the bed and his arm draped over your waist. She snapped a picture to show you both later before calling the others who were already awake to see the adorable scene.

—————————🩵————————

[starstrucklunatic]

Incorrect BAU Quotes but its things my friends said Part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Rossi: Don't live your life in denial, i tried it for the last 30 years and it doesn't work out

Hotch, talking to Emily: You should not go out in public you are a threat to society

Morgan: Looks like I knew something that boy genius didn't Emily: Aww you have finally achieved something in your life Morgan: that’s something you have yet to accomplish 

Alex: You personify a hyperbole

Reid: Older people over 40- Emily: Older people over 40!? Im going to throw myself out the window

Emily: I smoke for accessoriely purposes, not necessity ones

Garcia, talking to Emily about her crush on Alex: Well, that makes sense, she is a linguist, and you are a lesbian. Both words with L. Like licking-

Hotch: I always think “Not my circus, not my monkeys” but then I remember it is my circus and they are my fucking monkeys

[whereintheworldisspencerreid]

Not doing much just thinking about Hotch and Spencer’s parallels. Spencer has nothing to lose and can fully commit himself to the BAU, throwing away everything to become the best profiler he can. Meanwhile, Hotch has to wait, contemplate, and make every decision with painstaking deliberation. Spencer is jealous of Hotch because Hotch has the life he’s always wanted—respect, love, a child, and a wife. He has the privilege of having everything to lose, while Spencer uses his complete devotion to work as a distraction from having nothing.

[scorpsik]

Thursday art!

[insomniacirl]

Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia YOU DESERVED A LITTLE GIRL!!!!

PLEEEEEEAAAAAAAAASSSSSEEEEEEE- THE WAY THIS CHILD WOULD'VE BEEN SPOILED.

And she's such a mama's girl- totally a daddy's girl too but her and Garcia team up against Derek to make him do stuff for them (he gives in instantaneously because he loves them sm).

She'd be a little fashionista like Garcia and a bit of a player like Derek when she's older.

But more importantly she'd be the smartest, sweetest, strongest little girl ever. And her entire family (Aunt JJ, Uncle Spencer, Aunt Emily, Uncle Hotch and Uncle Rossi included) would take the best care of her.

[gublersangell]

Imagine having to play Kahoot with Spencer Reid

[chithereader]

jealousy, jealousy / aaron hotchner

here’s my masterlist! pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader / shy!reader word count: 2.4k genre & cw: fluff, a little jealousy and pining angst if u squint, mentions of made-up case, different use of cm character a/n: thank u so much for all the support i've been getting on my fics!! hope you love this one as much as i do, i really enjoyed writing this one the most!

Today was a bad day. That much was clear. From the moment you woke up to the minute you arrived at the BAU– you’re convinced that the universe has simply gone the extra mile to make your life a little harder. 

You slept through your alarm and a few phone calls from Garcia, making your morning stressful and complete chaos. You didn’t have time to grab a cup of coffee or a snack, and apparently you also didn’t have time to remove the colorful pimple patches that adorned your face. 

Your blouse is buttoned asymmetrically, your hair resembling a bird's nest, and you left your ID at home, making your arrival more delayed as you had to employ Garcia’s help in presenting a copy of your ID to let you through. 

That too was not without stress given that your phone was on the verge of dying as you were in the call, but thankfully you could finally breathe in the elevator. Or so you thought. 

There were two things that immediately caught you off guard as you walked into the bullpen: one, almost all the desks were deserted and two, Reid and Morgan were watching you- as if waiting for your reaction, which led you to look around in anticipation. Is there a surprise? A prank? Did I miss a patch? I’m…wearing pants, right? 

Not wanting to prolong your search, you look at the two for any indication or clue. Tilting your head to the side as if to ask what? But to your surprise, they both nod their heads in one direction. Oh.

Strauss was in Hotch’s office, along with Rossi and a woman you don’t recognize. Hotch looked a bit tense, Strauss firm, Rossi is as relaxed as ever, and the woman… is looking directly at Hotch. Just Hotch. Huh. 

You were stood just shy of your desk when you shook thoughts out of your head, slowly approaching your desk to settle your things. Dozens of scenarios were running through your head, trying to make sense of new additions to an otherwise normal day. 

But the way she was studying him made your chest tight like someone was stepping on it.. and you couldn’t figure out why. 

You approach the two rascals only to lean on Derek’s desk as you whisper under your breath, “What’s happening there?” 

Morgan shrugs but his focused face remains, “I don’t know, kid. I tried Garcia but she doesn’t have a clue either.” Eyes studying the people in the room, noting anything that could tell them something. 

Mulling over more possibilities, you hum in response. Turning to Reid, you ask him- hoping that his eidetic memory can tell you anything about the woman even if they’d only met in passing. 

“Do you know anything, Spence?” But Reid only pouts at you, a sign that he’s thought about it hard but is coming up empty. 

Shaking his head, he soberly replies, “No..I don’t think so. I– I’ve never seen her before. Sorry.” 

Before any more thoughts could be voiced between the three of you, the door to Hotch’s office opens and all four of them file out- the woman walking a little too close to Hotch. 

-

You’re approaching your usual seat on the jet beside Morgan and across from Hotch when suddenly Agent Seaver overtakes you and sits on your seat. Caught by surprise, your eyes instinctively go to Hotch who’s already looking at you. 

He nods to himself, moving from the aisle seat to the one by the window. But it appears Agent Seaver misunderstood his gesture and moved beside him, “Oh! Thank you, sir.” Even going as far as touching his arm and leaning closely. 

Now, you’ve never been a violent person. Rage has just never overcome your senses like that but today.. of all days– you couldn’t help the image of spilling your hot chocolate all over her cream blouse. 

You don’t even notice that you’re frowning as you sit beside Morgan, somehow still unaware of how much their closeness really upsets you. You honestly thought you’ve maintained an expressionless face until Morgan looks up from his file and leans close to whisper in your ear, “You’ll need claws not paws, baby girl.” Winking at you as you separate. 

You steal a glance at Hotch only to see him watching you and Morgan with furrowed brows. He almost looks normal if it weren’t for the clenching of his jaw that’s his tell of irritation. Moving your gaze to Seaver, in case you missed something that’s causing his new mood, you find her reading the case file. 

As you return your gaze on Hotch, you watch as Seaver touches his arm again and engages him in conversation about the case. It’s through the whole jet ride that you had to stomach the constant Agent Hotchner, Agent Hotchner! paired with a giggle or a slight touch. UGH!

If it weren’t for Strauss personally recommending Agent Seaver as a consultant for this case, you would have done– …still absolutely nothing. You had no claim whatsoever over Hotch. Morgan and Rossi may tease the two of you occasionally, forcing that he treats you specially or whatever but his behavior could simply be chalked off as him being a good and attentive boss. 

And yes, okay fine. You may have some moments here and there… but! they could honestly just be built up in your head because of the feelings you have for him. Like when he said he likes it when you stare? Come on, being stared at can be flattering and that’s just a universal truth. 

- 

After a whole day of coming up with theories, visiting crime scenes and M.E.’s, you’re all completely spent. Lounging in the makeshift discussion room, all of you are still working tirelessly on the case given that the unsub’s on a spree and his timeline is alarmingly short. 

Reid’s been silently staring at the board for 20 minutes while Morgan’s pretending to read files of potential suspects with his legs stretched out and feet on the table, “This is impossible. We just don’t have enough.” He exclaims as he tosses the file on the table with a thud. 

To the left of Morgan, you’re also silently mulling over files of potential suspects. Not wanting to admit that he’s right, you guys don’t have enough…bodies. You barely have anything on the guy, barely any clues- for a working profile. 

You sigh heavily, peeling your eyes off the paper and looking at the board. “Reid?” The boy genius shakes his head softly, confirming that the known dump sites don’t say much about the unsub’s comfort zones or hunting ground. 

You suddenly wonder where Seaver, Hotch and Rossi are. You and Morgan got back to the precinct at around 11PM, and you realize you haven’t seen any of them, “Where are the others?” 

Morgan, in an effort to lighten the mood, jumps at the chance to tease you, “Hmm. I think what you’re really asking is: Where’s Hotch and is he with Seaver?” He punches your arm lightly, making it obvious he’s only teasing. 

The smug, playful smile on his face makes you fight one of your own, desperately trying to not give yourself away, “Shut up,” hitting him in the head softly with the file in your hand. 

While you two were exchanging playful glares, Reid interjects, “Seaver wanted to turn in early since she’s also the one meeting with the families tomorrow so Hotch brought her to the hotel.” 

You instantly lift your gaze to him and watch as he removes the marker’s cap and scribbles rapidly on the board, quickly adding “And I’m pretty sure Rossi’s getting us coffee from the diner around the block.” 

You want to blame it on your exhaustion– your inability and ineffectiveness at hiding how you truly feel about what Reid just revealed to you, groaning loudly in pain and frustration. You put your head in your hands, muffling the sounds you’re making that are somehow a combination of a laugh and a sob. 

Morgan understands your reaction immediately and laughs out loud. 

“It’s not funny!” There was honestly no point in hiding it. As much as Morgan teased you, you knew he wouldn’t tell anyway, and Reid.. well, he was honestly an even better keeper of secrets than Morgan, Rossi and Garcia. 

He puts a hand on your shoulder to comfort you, “Baby girl, worry not. You know you hold a special place in boss man’s heart.” Then gripping both your wrists to pry your hands off your face. 

Pressing your face even further into your hands, you let out a muffled version of “That’s not true!” that came out more as “Daffs noft thwu!” 

When Morgan successfully pries your hands off your face, you’re surprised to see Reid’s moved from the board to behind Morgan, half leaning half sitting on the table, curiously watching you. 

Morgan turns around to look at the door behind you, making sure the coast is clear before he says, “Kid. Be real with me for a sec… are you blind?” That was not the question you were expecting. 

You must have looked so lost because he continues, “Hotch cares for you. Deeply. And not in the same way he does for us. You’ve gotta have felt that, kid.” Funny, you are starting to feel like a kid– the only thing missing are his hands on your shoulders to complete that huddle pep talk experience. 

“That’s just not–” you try to start. But Reid swiftly raises his hand, signing you to stop–

“Did you know that every morning Hotch makes sure all the pens and mug handles on your desk are pointing to the right– the way you need it to be– in case the night janitors move any out of place?”

“Or that he never really ate lunch in the office before but started bringing sandwiches and other food he could microwave, while timing his lunches with yours presumably so he could strike up a conversation with you during break?” 

“Or do you remember that one time the AC in the bullpen broke and we were all sweating badly, and I said the heat was making me too thirsty then he disappeared into his office and came back with a bottle of water and an orange juice box only to give it to you?” 

Morgan lets out a loud laugh at that one while Reid pouts playfully, “I mean I was genuinely dying then.” 

Not without his own input, Morgan smiles softly at you with a raised brow “Did you know he personally restocks your favorite hot chocolate in the pantry and on the jet? Including the marshmallows.” 

You breathe in deeply, the revelations sounding too good to be true but winding nonetheless. You crack a small joke, trying to play it off “And I thought the bureau was just feeling really generous.” 

The two, who have grown to be such brothers, give you the exact same look of Really? 

As Reid rounds the table to go back and stand by the board, Morgan catches your attention and holds your eye, “Look, there’s so much more, kid. But they all point to the same thing.” He says this as softly as possible, as if to not scare you away. 

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. Shaking your head, “That just can’t be true.” 

With all three of your backs to the door, you don’t notice Rossi nearing. You just suddenly hear his voice from behind, rounding the table and settling the coffee cups in front of all of you, “Coffee, anyone?” 

As if trapped in the null of the previous conversation, you’re still looking at Morgan as you lean back in your chair, slumping further to seek non-existent cover. Reid, who is now back in his own world with the board, is handed a cup by Rossi, who didn’t even turn to look- only stretching out an arm to receive it and mumbling a distracted “Thanks.”  

Rossi, who is simply too smart for his own good, impressively senses something hanging in the air, nonchalantly asking about the tailend of a conversation he was not supposed to hear, “So… what can’t be true?” 

Back to lounging excessively on a chair that is a tad too tiny for him, with legs outstretched and feet on the corner on the table– Morgan spouts, “That she’s Hotch’s girl, and has no reason to be jealous of Seaver– who by the way needs the HR orientation more than Penelope and I.” 

-

Now– all of your backs are to the door except Rossi’s. Not one of you tried to move due to fatigue, let alone look.

Unbeknownst to you, Morgan, and Reid, on the way back to the precinct from the hotel, Hotch had the genius thought of picking up Rossi so the latter wouldn’t have to walk a block with trays of coffee on hand.

Hotch and Rossi arrived together. And as Rossi went around the table to give you your cups of coffee, Hotch stayed behind– leaning on the doorframe with arms crossed, watching you and the team.

Imagine his surprise, hearing what Morgan just said. His heart skipped a beat, his stomach dropped. His entire being froze entirely.. What? Jealous? 

In his mind, he had two choices: Act like he didn’t hear it and save you from embarrassment or use it to his advantage and make his intentions clear..ish. 

-

You gasp loudly at his bluntness– and in front of Rossi! Straightening in your chair and pointing an accusatory finger at Morgan, “You little– I am NOT jealous! and I am NOT Hotch’s–” 

Cut off by someone loudly clearing their throat from behind all of you, you all freeze, including Reid who hasn’t been actively paying attention until now. 

The hair on your neck stands up as you hear the nearing footsteps, already envisioning digging your own grave in your head when finally, Hotch is standing right beside you. 

You’re all still pretty frozen, save from the slow movement which is your eyes slowly lifting its gaze to the man in question until they meet his hazel orbs. He holds your stare as he leans on the desk, arms straining in his shirt– 

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Rossi fighting a smile, and just as you’re about to mentally curse him in your head, you’re broken out of your thoughts by a deep voice, 

“You don’t think you’re my girl?” 

[scarlettjemily]

Gonna tell my kids this was One Direction

[pillowprincess4logan]

" We're looking for a white male, approximately mid to late 30s, between 5"6 to 6"2 "

" wheels up in 30 "

[seonghwadyke]

[guiltyc0nscience]

elle greenaway and spencer reid:

[starchaser45]

Emily only allowing herself to cry when she's in Spencer's arms cause she's sure he's safe is my Roman Empire

[bobadiin]

last day of autism awareness month please be aware of him

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Intoxication [S. R]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

wc: 9.2k

Summary: when Spencer and reader accidentally consume aphrodisiacs, it seems impossible to maintain control of themselves. It all comes down to who will lose their mind first.

warnings: +18, mdni!! alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, unintentional use of aphrodisiacs, explicit descriptions, oral (f receiving) fingering, kissing, porn with plot, p in v, protected sex, no y/n!

It had been just over half an hour since I entered the fraternity building, fully aware that within the first second, I’d feel the need to leave. Attending any gathering wasn’t a regular thing for me. The noise, the crowds, and the multitude of germs everywhere were reason enough to avoid them.

However, that time, I thought, why not? I had never been to one of those university parties and wanted to experience it. However, I never considered the fact that, to enjoy one, you either: a) went with a group of friends or b) drank until you forgot your name and the discomfort you felt about yourself. I didn’t have the first option, nor did I want to do the second. So, after a few minutes of reflection, I decided I would walk back to my apartment and go straight to bed.

The place was huge, and since my postgraduate program didn’t include the benefit of dormitories, I rarely found myself in places like that. I was about to leave when a hand grabbed my forearm to stop me. In front of me, smiling widely, was her. The moment I saw her, I could swear my face lit up.

“Hi”

“Spencer! I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

Without letting go of my arm, she came closer, wrapping me in a hug and planting a kiss on my cheek before I could react.

I quickly glanced at her, and in the dim light, I noticed her wearing a fitted, spaghetti-strap dress in a deep burgundy red with delicate floral embroidery that looked hand-drawn on the sheer fabric. The material, likely chiffon or tulle, clung to her figure as if custom-made. I tried to focus on her leather jacket instead because the last thing I wanted was to make her uncomfortable by staring too long.

“I was just about to leave, actually.”

“Why?” she asked, noticing my sigh.

“It’s just... I don’t know anyone here.”

“Well, that problem is now solved,” she kindly murmured.

I didn’t even get the chance to respond when she had already walked over to another girl, whispering something in her ear, probably to let her know she’d be away for a while.

Even though I wanted to decline to stay, the truth was that I genuinely enjoyed her company. Rejecting her would have been too rude. We had met some time ago thanks to the advanced classes she took, which overlapped with mine. She was younger than me, of course, but only by one or two years.

She had always been kind to me, attentive, and one could say she was a friend. After all, I trusted her enough to let her hold my hand and guide me through the crowd, despite my aversion to physical contact… and people.

“It’d be a crime to let you leave so early after finally coming to a party,” she breathed once we were both seated on a tiny couch where the noise was slightly muffled. At least she had been considerate in that regard.

“I don’t even know why I came,” I said, shifting uncomfortably. She was leaning against one side, legs crossed, looking at me with a smile. “I don’t like parties.”

“Do you like drinking?” she asked. I shook my head “Maybe that’s the root of the problem.”

“Getting drunk to the point of losing control isn’t my thing,” I replied.

“That’s not what it’s about,” she murmured almost compassionately “It’s more like… fuel for your social battery, you know? You don’t have to deal with these people. I don’t even know half of them, but the guys in this fraternity are disgustingly rich and just want to get as many girls drunk as possible to sleep with whoever they can. They won’t mind if you drink a little. Enough to have fun, but not so much you end up in some stranger’s bed.”

I thought about it for a second and silently nodded. I didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of her by saying I didn’t want to drink because, come on, what kind of university student doesn’t drink?

“I understand your point, and I don’t mean to be a buzzkill, but alcohol has a more complex impact than it seems. It’s not just something that ‘fuels your social battery’; it’s a central nervous system depressant, which means it slows down brain and motor functions. That initial feeling of euphoria or relaxation happens because it inhibits the prefrontal cortex—the part of your brain that regulates judgment and self-awareness. So, technically, drinking a little might make you feel more uninhibited or confident, but it can also impair your ability to make rational decisions if you overdo it, even if you don’t notice right away.”

I paused, gauging how much more I should say before losing her interest. Hearing no objections, I continued:

“Additionally, strong liquors, which have high ethanol concentrations, can hit your system faster than diluted drinks. And if you drink too quickly, you could easily exceed your liver’s ability to metabolize the alcohol. The excess ethanol stays in your bloodstream, raising your blood alcohol levels and increasing the risk of intoxication.”

I avoided looking directly at her, partly because I didn’t want to get distracted by her gaze and partly because I was nervous around her.

“It’s not that I want to ruin your fun, but if you’re going to drink, you should do it slowly, alternating with water, and never on an empty stomach. Not to seem smarter than everyone else, but because staying in control can be the difference between a fun night and a situation you don’t want to be in.”

I expected her to look bored, confused, or even indifferent, assuming she’d left halfway through my rambling. But when I looked at her, I was surprised by the admiration shining in her eyes, accompanied by an amused smile.

“All right, genius boy, if you know all that and basically have the perfect recipe for not making stupid mistakes while drinking, why do you still refuse?” she teased playfully. I didn’t know what to say, but luckily, she answered for me “Listen, I drove here. How about we make a deal? We can drink a little, have a good time, maybe dance if you want, and if either of us starts doing something embarrassing, the soberest one will make sure to drag the other to the car and drive them home. Deal?”

She handed me her car keys, and I wasn’t sure if the brush of her hand against mine was intentional or if she had decided to linger a little longer.

I agreed to her proposal, and a second later, she was already off her seat, walking toward where I assumed the kitchen was. No one noticed us entering, too absorbed in their own business to care if we were strangers.

There was every type of alcohol scattered around, and she took the liberty of pouring me a shot of a clear liquid, which I guessed was vodka. She warned me to drink it in one gulp, and when the warmth hit my throat, I barely managed to avoid coughing. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything.

“Tastes like… strawberry.”

“It’s good, right?” she laughed, giving my shoulder a playful nudge.

Our previous seat was already taken, so she opted for us to stand in a quiet corner. I have to admit that, although I still felt slightly awkward, the vodka was having the desired effect; making me feel more animated to talk.

Talking to her was almost hypnotic. Maybe it was the rhythmic movement of her lips, still stained with traces of what had once been red lipstick, or perhaps it was her tone, but it made me feel like I had to watch her. She never faltered when she spoke, always exuding confidence and calm, no matter the topic.

On the other hand, whenever I responded, I completely lost focus. No matter what I said, she kept looking at me with a wide smile, nodding, and even leaning closer when something made her laugh. But her laugh wasn’t mocking—no, it was as if she genuinely found my intellectual jokes or nonsensical remarks funny.

Gradually, my glass emptied, and she guided me back to the kitchen, serving us moderately but consistently. After an hour, all my nerves had vanished, leaving only a normal guy enjoying the terrible background music, unconcerned about how dirty the place was, and utterly captivated by the woman next to him.

“It’s strange, you know? I didn’t think I’d enjoy something like this. Parties always seemed so… chaotic,”

She looked around with a slight smile.

“That’s true. They’re not exactly calm, but in a way, the chaos has its charm. It lets you leave everything else behind for a while.”

“I suppose you’re right. Sometimes, you just need to disconnect.”

“You seem less tense now, huh? Are you sure it’s not the vodka helping with that?”

She moved closer, almost leaning against my chest in a friendly way, and seeing her looking up at me made my face feel hot.

“Maybe. But it’s also largely due to the company.”

She seemed surprised by my sudden boldness and let out a laugh that I interpreted as a sign of approval. We continued drinking, laughing, and soon my stomach demanded food. Even in my slightly tipsy state, I still remembered that eating would help lessen the effects of the alcohol.

I have to admit that the way I held her waist to guide her to the kitchen was entirely intentional. However, she didn’t seem bothered by the contact. By this point, I’d realized that no one really cared about what we took or didn’t take, so we felt free to rummage through the pantry.

“There are chips, pretzels, Cheetos, some cookies...” she began listing, handing me each package she found.

I grabbed a stray cookie, and suddenly, she let out a sigh of admiration.

“What is it?”

“Chocolate,” she murmured happily. It was a half-eaten, luxurious-looking golden package with no label “Do you want some?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. Chocolate has properties that can slightly boost energy and mood. Both alcohol and chocolate can be hard for the body to handle, especially with a combination of high sugar and alcohol content. This can lead to stomach discomfort, dizziness, or a stronger hangover the next day.”

But she wasn’t listening. She had already popped a sizeable piece of chocolate into her mouth. Immediately, she offered me a piece, slightly bigger than hers.

“You have to try it,” she moaned.

I resisted, but I have to admit that the fact she grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer caught me off guard enough to let her slip the chocolate into my mouth.

“Hey!”

“You’ll thank me later.”

It was delicious, that’s for sure. Like a pair of sneaky raccoons, we kept scavenging for snacks in the kitchen until we were satisfied. She grabbed a bag of chips, and I took the bag of pretzels.

After our little break, she poured us another round of drinks, and something inside me told me it was time to stop. I decided that would be my last glass for the night.

Let’s dance she suddenly whispered, and once again, I let her lead me toward the crowd.

I didn’t know how to dance; I think that was pretty obvious. But the situation managed to make me forget that fact.

She was patient with me and laughed every time I made a mistake. Even though there was smoke around me, probably from weed, that didn't stop me from staring intently, and even somewhat intimidated, at my friend. Beautiful, statuesque, and drunk friend.

We danced for a long time until something in her swaying movements, in the way she smiled at me, began to make my head spin. It was as if the atmosphere was charged with something more—something I couldn’t identify at first.

She leaned closer, and my pulse began to quicken slightly. Her hands rose to tangle in my neck, bringing a warm sensation that followed: my thoughts seemed clearer, sharper. I wondered if it was the alcohol, but then something different began to course through my skin.

The warmth intensified, not just in my body but in my mind as well. I felt more alert, more awake, yet the calmness of the vodka lingered, balancing the sensation. My skin felt more sensitive, as if every little touch sent vibrations through me in a more intense way.

My eyes focused more on her movements, her voice, and the way the air filled with her perfume. I wanted to get closer, as if there were an invisible force pulling me toward her. And though my body responded with a soft yearning, my mind remained present, conscious of every second.

By the way she was looking at me, I imagined I wasn’t the only one experiencing these kinds of emotions.

“Sweetheart.”

“Hmm?”

“Can we sit down for a moment? I’m completely sweaty, and the smell of weed is starting to bother me.”

“Of course.”

My hands rested on her waist, unsure of where else to go, and we stumbled out of the crowd, finding a couch to collapse onto.

I was sweaty too, and we were both breathing heavily. When I saw her lean her head back against the seat, leaving her neck exposed, something stirred inside me.

“You move well, Reid.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I mean it. You just need a little confidence,” she smiled. Perhaps the alcohol dulled her sense of personal space, which is why she leaned so close to me. “You’re so smart that, with a bit of practice, you’d be the most skilled at a lot of physical activities.”

Did she know how nervous she was making me? My face was already flushed from the alcohol, the effort, and now from the way she was looking at me while twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.

I wanted to say something else, but a voice interrupted mine: a tall, burly guy accompanied by two others who seemed to be flanking him. Probably a member of the fraternity hosting the party.

He specifically addressed her, asking how she was enjoying the party and throwing in a compliment, clearly with ulterior motives. For a moment, I felt disheartened. Of course, she could have gone with him and I would have understood. I was far too used to rejection.

“I’m having a great time—with my friend. Thanks,” she exclaimed, cordial but curt.

“Want a drink?”

“Honestly, no.”

By the uncomfortable smile she gave the men, I assumed she was politely ending the conversation. With some reluctance, the guys walked away.

Suddenly, my breath caught when I felt her hand rest on my thigh, sliding painfully slowly down to my knee. I couldn’t even hear her words over the heat of her fingers on my pants.

“Sorry?”

“I thought you were going to say something, earlier.”

“No,” I quickly replied, smiling like an idiot because of the way she had leaned toward me. “Nothing.”

“I like listening to you. You know so many things, and you don’t make me feel dumb when you explain them. That’s very sexy.”

“Sexy?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, because I’d replied in a voice an octave higher than normal. “You are very sexy.”

Her compliment was followed by a soft, distracted kiss on the line of my jaw, which sent my brain into overdrive.

“Uhm… you… you’re beautiful. Very beautiful.”

My clumsy compliment seemed to please her, and I felt one of her nails, long and painted black, tracing circles on the skin of my knee. Each small movement felt deliberate, as if she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Did you know fireflies don’t just glow to communicate but also to… attract?”

Her voice broke the silence between us, soft but layered with a double meaning that made me lift my eyes to her.

“Yes, I know,” I responded automatically, my brain switching to autopilot. “Bioluminescent signals are a form of courtship. The light patterns vary by species and can be very specific.”

She turned her head toward me, her lips curving into a lazy smile.

“Of course you’d know that. But tell me something—do you think it actually works? Making someone notice you just by glowing?”

My throat went dry. There was something about the way she was looking at me, like she was expecting a more personal answer than a scientific one.

“I guess it depends on who you’re trying to attract,” I murmured, feeling ridiculously exposed under her gaze.

“That makes sense.”

Her hand slid slightly—barely noticeable—toward the edge of my knee. After tapping her fingers on my pants, she withdrew it.

She didn’t move from the couch, and neither did I. There was something about her posture that held me captive—the way she leaned back against the seat, relaxed yet naturally elegant. Her dress had ridden up slightly along her thighs, revealing more skin than I felt prepared to handle at that moment. I tried to look elsewhere, but it was as if my eyes had a will of their own, always returning to the same place.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with a hint of amusement.

“Yes, of course,” I replied quickly, turning my head in the other direction. Perhaps too quickly, because my neck cracked slightly in the process.

She didn’t say anything, but her suppressed laughter made me feel even more awkward. In the silence that followed, I forced myself to focus on something safer: the empty glass on the table, the flickering lights through the window, anything but the curve of her leg or the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

“It’s hot, isn’t it?” she commented suddenly, with almost theatrical casualness. Then, without warning, she leaned forward as if to adjust her shoe, causing the neckline of her dress to dip even further.

“Do you think so?” I muttered, my voice raspier than I intended.

She smiled, a gesture somewhere between innocence and knowing.

“Yes, definitely. Though maybe it’s because we’re sitting so close,” she said, glancing around as if she had only just noticed the temperature.

Her words felt like both a slap and a caress at the same time. I tried to keep my gaze fixed on her face, but it didn’t help that her eyes shone with a kind of mischievous intent. Then she lifted one leg, bending it to get more comfortable on the couch, and her knee accidentally brushed against my thigh.

“Did you know you have a very particular way of distracting yourself?” she remarked while toying with the hem of her dress, as if unaware of the chaos she was causing in my head.

“Do I?” my voice sounded weak, almost a whisper.

She nodded slowly, leaning in a bit closer until I could feel the warmth of her proximity.

“Yes. It’s like you’re trying to avoid something but… you can’t.”

My throat went dry. I wanted to say something clever, to steer the conversation away, anything to regain some ground. But instead, all that came out was a nervous, forced laugh.

She didn’t stop looking at me. Then, with exasperating slowness, she smoothed the fabric of her dress over her thigh—a casual gesture.

“You know, sometimes you seem so self-aware. It’s something that can be endearing, but also… well, how do I put it?” she paused for a moment, bringing a finger to her lips as if she were reflecting. “It makes you seem easier to impress.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s nothing, Reid. It’s just me rambling” her voice softened, and I felt the lightest touch on my nose as her finger grazed it. I tried to ignore the fact that her gaze had lingered on my lips “Scattered thoughts I have in my head.”

Without warning, she let out a loud exhale and leaned back into the couch, arching her back as if trying to relieve some muscle tension. I know she probably wasn’t aware of the movement, but it was what finally made me lose the little composure I had left.

“I need to use the restroom. Can you give me a moment?”

I escaped. Cowardly, completely, I got up and practically bolted toward the bathroom, desperate for a moment of peace. As soon as I entered, I realized I had an obvious problem in my pants—I was hard as a rock, and that wasn’t good. I looked at myself in the mirror, surprised at how flushed my face was. My pupils were dilated, my lips dry… What the hell was happening to me?

It quickly became clear that she was the reason for my situation.

The alcohol prevented me from feeling the embarrassment I surely deserved, and instead, I felt like my head was spinning. I placed a hand over the fabric of my pants, letting out a frustrated, pained groan.

I stayed there for a while, trying to think of something that would make my erection go away, but nothing worked. A couple of knocks on the door startled me, and that forced me to leave. Once in the hallway, I walked for a bit until I bumped into someone.

“Spencer! I’ve been looking for you. Are you okay?”

“No! I mean, yes… it’s just…”

I needed to think of something quickly—something believable, but not catastrophic. However, it was hard to concentrate with her body so close to mine, mere inches away from her noticing my situation.

“Did you throw up?”

“No, no, it’s not that. It’s nothing. I think the vodka didn’t sit well with me, uh, maybe I got dizzy from dancing, I don’t know. I think it’s best if I leave.”

“Poor thing,” she murmured, pouting “I’ll take you home right now.”

“I can take a cab.”

“Nonsense. That was our agreement, remember? If one of us was in bad shape, the other would take care of them. Plus, I was the one who encouraged you to drink. I’d feel bad if something happened to you.”

She was already putting on her jacket—she’d been holding it, probably suspecting the situation—and tried to find the keys in her pocket. My outstretched hand reminded her that she’d already given them to me earlier.

When she placed her hand on the small of my back to guide me out, my breathing deepened. The sensation of excitement coursed through me in a way I couldn’t ignore. I realized that something in me desperately wanted her. Too much.

It wasn’t an impulsive desire but a subtle one that had been building throughout the night—with every glance, every gesture. Perhaps the vodka had intensified my evident attraction to her, but whatever the reason, it had turned into something far more palpable.

It was almost as if my body was begging me to stop her right then and there, to kiss her recklessly, and maybe, just maybe, ease the relentless ache inside me.

The cool night air made me feel better, and as the noise faded behind us, I began to calm down. I fervently tried to hide the bulge in my pants, but the truth was she didn’t even seem to notice. Then again, it would’ve been strange to catch her staring at my crotch, right?

“Are you sure you’re in a condition to drive?”

“I’ve driven home in far worse states of drunkenness. Don’t worry,” she smiled.

She looked more lucid now, as if her intoxication had vanished in an instant. I decided to trust her abilities.

The drive home was silent, and I kept shifting in my seat, trying to find strategic positions to avoid embarrassment. I guess she attributed my silence to the supposed discomfort I was feeling, as she didn’t try to start a conversation.

She didn’t say anything when she caught me looking at her through the rearview mirror. It was an innocent glance, at least on my part, simply admiring her. Her lips were driving me crazy, her eyes, slightly narrowed from the lack of light and smudged with mascara, seemed the most beautiful to me. I didn’t know what she saw in me, but I think—no, I feel—that it was something she liked.

“Thank you so much for bringing me home… and for everything.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Quite a lot, actually.”

“We should do this more often.”

“Go to university parties?”

“Just go out in general. To a bar, grab some drinks, a coffee, the library if you’d prefer,” she laughed “The place doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re there.”

Was she implying she wanted a date with me? I swallowed hard and looked at her, trying to decipher what she wanted me to do. I couldn’t figure it out.

“I’d like that, yes. We can talk about that later. Thanks again for the ride.”

A kiss on my cheek marked her goodbye, and I rushed out, eager to get inside my apartment. I was about to unlock the building’s door when the sound of a car horn made me turn around.

“Hey, would you mind if I use your bathroom? I’ll be quick,” she promised.

I needed to get to the shower and turn on the cold water, but I didn’t protest when she turned off the car engine.

Almost no one visited me in the apartment, so I kept the space however I pleased. It wasn’t really messy, but there were plenty of things on the desk and several books scattered around.

She entered, as she had said, rushing to the bathroom. It was only then that I dared to put a hand over my pants, swallowing a moan that was about to escape from my throat.

In my limited sexual experiences, nothing like this had ever happened to me, and I wondered what the cause might have been. Alcohol couldn’t be blamed, of course, but it was responsible for ruining my ability to react enough to find another explanation.

The shirt began to feel heavy on me, and almost out of necessity, I undid the first buttons to let myself breathe. I tried to ventilate my skin by tugging at the fabric with the tips of my fingers, but it was useless. I sighed.

I glanced around the room, just wanting to make sure nothing was embarrassing in view, and at that moment, she came out of the bathroom. She looked flushed and had some wet hair, as if she had washed her face.

“You okay?”

“Yes, just… suddenly felt a bit feverish”

“Let me check”

My intentions were purely medical when I cupped her face with one hand, putting the back of the other against her forehead to confirm or deny my suspicions. Of course, I hadn’t considered how close we would be. Or maybe I had, subconsciously, and that’s why I moved forward.

My choice of words wasn't the best either.

“You’re hot,”

“I don’t think it’s as much as you.”

A daring smile slid across her lips, and I held my breath as her fingers traced up to the line of my collarbone, exposed by my shirt.

“Why are you saying that?”

“Don’t you like it?”

“It’s just… I don’t understand it.”

A soft laugh echoed in my ears.

“Well, I think you’re very handsome. Would there be any other reason for that?”

I swallowed deeply. She noticed the movement of my Adam’s apple.

“No… I think… I think not. It’s the most logical thing.”

“Don’t they tell you that often?” she murmured, genuinely confused. I shook my head “That’s a shame.”

Her hand, which had been tentatively caressing my skin, moved up to my neck and pulled me just a few inches closer to her.

“Hey, Spencer.”

“Yes?”

“Could I kiss you?”

A chill ran down my spine. And without thinking, I answered yes.

Her mouth found mine with a softness that contrasted with the whirlwind of sensations inside me. It was a heady contrast: the sweetness of her lips against the intensity of the desire that had been building up in every fiber of my being.

My hands instinctively moved to her waist, hesitating for a moment, as if fearing that this might just be a product of my imagination. But she didn’t hesitate. Her body leaned into me, closing any distance that remained.

Her lips were insistent, demanding, and before I could process what was happening, her hand slid down to my chest, pushing me gently back until my back collided with the wall.

“I’m sorry…” I managed to murmur between kisses, pulling my face slightly away. My voice came out more trembly than I wanted.

She raised an eyebrow, tilting her face toward mine, her fingers now brushing my jawline.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“For this” my gaze dropped quickly before returning to her eyes. “No… I didn’t want you to feel it. It’s embarrassing.”

For a moment, I thought she would pull away, that the spell of the moment would break. But instead, her lips curved into a mischievous smile.

“Embarrassing? I thought I was the only one feeling all this tension,” her tone was low, almost a whisper, but filled with a certainty that made my breath grow even more erratic.

Before I could respond, her lips captured mine again, this time with more intensity. The kiss was everything I didn’t know I needed: desperate, intoxicating, completely consumed by the connection between us. I felt her body press against mine, her curves fitting perfectly as if they were made to be there. And then, all my doubts, all my attempts to hold back, vanished.

My mind was a whirlwind. Every touch of her lips, every time her tongue sought mine, was like a fire I couldn’t put out. My face was hot, yes, but now not because of the alcohol, not even from the effort of holding myself back. It was her closeness, her touch, her condescending voice still echoing in my head.

She knows what she’s doing. And she’s slowly killing me.

“Hey, wait…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you feel okay with this?”

“A lot. Do you want to stop?”

“No. It’s just that… you’ve been drinking. I don’t want you to think I took advantage of you” my voice came out hoarse, full of doubt and repressed desire.

Her eyes met mine, firm and warm at the same time, as if her gaze could completely disarm me.

“Relax. You’ve been drinking too, pretty, and I think if anyone could make that accusation, it would be you. Do you feel like I’m taking advantage of you?”

“No”

“I’m fully aware of everything. I don’t even feel drunk anymore. The only thing that’s making me dizzy right now is you, Spencer…”

I shivered when I heard my name on her lips like that. She continued:

“I’m just as anxious as you are. I’ve been holding back all night, trying not to make this too obvious, but I can’t anymore. Please, don’t doubt me. Don’t doubt what I want. I want you”

Her confession hit my heart like a blow and ignited a spark that set my entire body on fire. My hand moved up her back until it tangled in her hair, while the other rested on her hip. The pull was gentle but enough for her to understand that my inner struggle had ended. I wasn’t resisting this anymore.

I wanted her too. I wanted her now.

“I never imagined…”

My words were barely audible as our lips brushed in a kiss that was both an explosion of emotions and a long-awaited relief. Her mouth was soft, and so perfectly synchronized with mine that I felt like the world stopped at that moment.

Her hands gripped my shoulders, anchoring the connection between us, while my thumb traced a slow path along her jawline, savoring every detail of her skin. It was more than a kiss. It was the confirmation of something that had been lingering all evening.

When we parted just a centimeter to breathe, our foreheads stayed pressed together.

“Did that clear your doubts?”

“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say all that,” I replied with a weak smile, the only one my pounding heart allowed me to form.

“Then stop overthinking”

The space between us disappeared again as we kissed with desperation we had both been suppressing. Her low laugh vibrated against my lips, and I couldn’t help but smile. How did she do it? How did she drive me crazy with so little effort?

But now wasn’t the time for questions. It was time to feel.

The whole world had reduced itself to him: his warm breath, his lips that wavered between soft and desperate, and the hands that roamed my waist with a mix of reverence and clumsiness, making me want him even more. Spencer had always been an enigma to me, a balance between restraint and passion that I didn't know how to decipher... until now.

I had waited for this moment more than I would ever admit. Maybe it had been the way he looked at me when he thought I didn't notice, or the warmth in his voice when he said my name, as if it were something sacred. But now, with his body pressed against mine and his doubts finally gone, I knew I hadn't imagined anything.

It was as if the pieces of a puzzle I had been trying to put together in the dark finally clicked into place, and the resulting image was more beautiful than I had ever dreamed.

Wanting to reverse the roles, it was now him who gently pushed me against the wall, and I felt the control he always seemed to have begin to crack. His breath was heavy, his body trembling slightly, a sign that this was as new and overwhelming for him as it was for me.

"Spencer..." I murmured his name again, feeling it resonate in my chest at the same time his lips moved more intensely against mine. "Can I ask you something?"

I received an affirmative exhalation, and to let me speak, his lips moved to the hollow of my neck. Although my mouth was free, the soft and wet kisses I was receiving blurred my judgment a bit.

"Tell me”

"Did you really feel bad at the party? Or was it just..."

"I didn't want you to notice what you were doing to me. Although I think at this point it doesn't matter much, right?"

Contrary to what I expected, Spencer pushed his hips against mine, as if he wanted to prove that it was true. I could even call it a claim, something that said: look what you did to me. And I wanted him to know just how much my body was begging for him.

Carefully, I moved one of his hands from my waist, and before he could protest, I guided it to one of my thighs, dangerously close to my core. I was glad I had thought of lingerie as a great complement to my dress, maybe in an attempt to feel sexy even if no one saw it. But now, he was going to see it.

Spencer understood my silent request. Those long, slender fingers, which seemed made for more than just flipping through the pages of a book or scribbling frantic notes on paper, slid across my smooth skin. I sighed as I remembered the veins tracing a map under his fair skin, like rivers of contained energy.

Until they finally reached where I needed them. And his touch... God, his touch was something else. They were hands made for discovery, for holding, for exploring, but in those moments, they seemed to be made only for me.

Spencer wasn't an overly bold guy, so it didn't surprise me that he just traced shapes above my panties, as if he wanted to diagnose my anatomy before making any move. My sighs at his ear seemed to please him.

Suddenly, he stopped kissing me, and I huffed, since I liked the attention he was giving my shoulder, until I felt his lips drop just slightly. A loud, pathetic moan escaped me when he squeezed my tits while burying his face to leave an experimental kiss.

I was barely processing that when he knelt in front of me and, carefully, took the edge of my dress and lifted it.

My legs trembled with anticipation at the thought of what he was going to do next, and then I felt his lips brush my thigh. He started gentle, kind, but soon he began sucking every bit of skin he could, and in the end, he made sure to leave bites strong enough to make me whimper.

Who would have thought that this man, seemingly so inexperienced, turned out to offer the best foreplay a woman could desire?

I squealed as I felt his kisses trail down to the fabric of my panties, pausing for a moment to lick the length of my still-clothed pussy.

“You’re dripping wet,” he observed. I was too focused on not giving in right then and there to say anything "Is oral something you're into?"

“I don’t know,” I exclaimed honestly. I didn’t care how vulnerable I looked as I confessed that no man had ever dared to give me head “You?”

“It’s an idea that piques my curiosity, yes.”

Gently he slid some of the fabric aside to clear the way for his tongue, and I felt as if my entire body was only aware of the parts he was probing, kissing, sucking. When he raised my thigh to shoulder height, deepening his thrusts, I felt like I was going to pass out.

I lowered my hand to his thick head and tried, in vain, to push him away from me. I honestly didn’t have the strength or desire to do so, much less when he had picked up the pace.

I moaned a sweet nickname out loud and then Spencer pulled away, looking up at me with glossy, swollen lips.

“Take me to bed, please.”

He didn’t need me to say it twice as he immediately stood up and took me by the waist to guide me to said spot. I was able to taste myself on his lips and for some reason that only turned me on.

Once we hit the mattress the way he laid me down was gentle and I sighed at that. How could he be so sweet all the time? I wondered. And worse yet, how much would this little adventure affect my future expectations?

Because if it was about standards, I was finding out that Spencer Reid was the standard.

Seemingly more enthralled now by my lips than my pussy, he continued with the make-out session we were having. With each touch we had, my excitement was increasing more and more. In the midst of it all I managed to unbutton his shirt and take it off to leave it somewhere on the bed; the semi-darkness of the room shielded any insecurities he might be feeling, as well as my own.

“You are painfully stunning, did you know?”

My tone was one of reproach, and he laughed at that, looking down almost embarrassed. Maybe he wasn't used to compliments, but something told me he was definitely enjoying it.

I heard him murmur something under his breath about me, while he took down the straps of my dress. My hands almost instinctively went to unbuckle his belt, and before I could do anything, he pulled away from me. Needless to say, this left me confused.

"Sorry, I..."

“You don't want to?” I murmured understandingly. I thought maybe he wasn't a big fan of these situations, and I understood, but somehow I felt hurt.

"No! Sure I want to. I want it a lot, but..." he tried not to look at me, as if avoiding confrontation "It's just that I don't have any protection here”

A laugh escaped my lips, and I feared he might interpret it as mockery, so I stretched my neck to steal another kiss.

"One would think there are many girls who pass through these sheets."

"Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not making fun of you. It's cute, actually. It even makes me feel guilty," I murmured, smiling "For a second, I was afraid something had made you uncomfortable."

"No, it's not that."

I hesitated for a second whether I should suggest what was on my mind.

"We could do it like this. It doesn't bother me."

"It's not just about avoiding an unwanted pregnancy..." he began. At that moment, I saw him return to his usual nerdy mode. "Although, of course, that counts. But there are things like sexually transmitted infections, some of which don't even show symptoms at first and could complicate things if not detected on time. I know this doesn't sound very attractive, but believe me, protection isn't just for avoiding future problems; it's also to take care of you now, so you don't have issues later: because sometimes men can transmit diseases we're asymptomatic for, and to be honest, I've never done those kinds of tests. A lot of people don't think about it, but the risks are real. And don't get me wrong, I trust you, but even though you trust me, diseases don't discriminate. And I'd like us both to have that peace of mind. Prevention is never too much."

“You conflict me deeply. On the one hand, I admire how responsible you are; it's very cute. But on the other hand, I just urgently need you to fuck me deep and cum inside me”

Spencer was surprised by my desperate whining and tensed when I placed one of my legs around his waist, trying to persuade him. But I was even more surprised when I felt him pull completely away to stand beside the bed.

"Where are you going?"

"To the pharmacy," he announced, putting a jacket over his bare torso.

"Are you serious?" I laughed widely, sitting on the bed now that my companion had moved away.

"Definitely. I feel like I can't handle it any longer, it’s physically painful, and when you talk to me like that, it just drives me crazy” he groaned, joining in the fun. It was the first time something like this happened, and I honestly thought it was absolutely hilarious “I'll be back in a minute, I swear! Please, don't go...”

"I couldn't," I murmured sweetly. He came closer, and I took the opportunity to kiss him again "Be quick. I'll be waiting anxiously for you."

Something in my tone of voice affected the man, or maybe it was the wink I gave him, but I saw him bolt out the door. I flopped back onto the bed, taking a moment to digest what was happening.

I have to admit that my classmate had always been attractive to me, but I never thought he could feel the same way. Not even in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would be waiting for him in his bed so that, with any luck, he could ravish me without holding back.

As I reached out my arms, I could feel the fabric of the shirt I had previously removed from him, and then I brought it up to my nose, inhaling without thinking. A familiar scent hit me immediately: the mix of sweet cocktails he had drank during the party and a subtle trace of cannabis, as if the night was still impregnated in him. I could distinguish a hint of wood, perhaps from the furniture in the place, combined with a light scent of sweat that was not bothersome, but rather natural. And then, among all that, there was his perfume: a citrus and spicy aroma that evoked something fresh, but also deep, sensual, as if every molecule of his being was waiting for something more. I breathed harder, feeling that this aroma, this moment, defined him.

I didn't know why that particular night my whole body was screaming for his closeness. I was crazy about him and it wasn't the alcohol's fault, because I'd had too many drinks to know. Neither of us had ever done drugs and for a moment I was terrified by the idea that I could want to be with someone like that, with such fervor that it was worrying.

Still dizzy from the excitement of the moment, I lowered one of my hands to my crotch to get rid of my panties. I thought about him, wondering how skilled he was. Not that I doubted his abilities, but just like I’d told him that night, he might need some practice.

I started to fantasize about helping him through this situation, maybe guiding him or pampering him by just asking him to lay back so I could do all the work. Spencer was the kind of man who invited you to please him, the kind of man you wanted to satisfy because he never pressured you into it.

Playing with myself, I sniffed his shirt again, desperately wishing I could have the source of said scent with me, until my brain was filled only with daydreams in which he was the protagonist and my fingers were replaced by his. That's why I didn't notice when he opened the apartment. And that's why I didn't know he was watching me from the door frame until I heard him let out a ragged sigh.

Being caught in that position made me feel embarrassed at first, but the way he practically lunged at me and kissed me more decisively than before, I figured he liked seeing me like that.

"Busy?"

I was caught off guard by his sassiness and I knew he was proud of it by the smile I felt on my neck.

“I guess you found what we need, right?”

“Uh-huh”

“Have you read any books on female anatomy?”

“Quite a few”

“So I guess you know a lot about sexuality, don’t you?”

“In theory, yes. Unfortunately, I haven’t had many opportunities to put it into practice.”

A smile spread across my face, which luckily he couldn't see because he was too busy leaving a trail of kisses along the top of my torso.

“How unfortunate, considering you’re a scientist. I wouldn’t mind becoming an object of your study, though, you know?”

He subtly slid the straps of my dress and revealed my bra, from which a considerable part of my boobs protruded, which he happily kissed.

At the same time his hand came down to caress me, making me shiver with anticipation, resting on just the right spots. It was the least I could expect from such an intellectual man, one who definitely knew about the thousands of nerve endings concentrated in my clitoris, which he was definitely tapping into to satisfy me.

“May I?” he whispered, looking at the little underwear he still had on.

I nodded immediately and arched my back to make it easier for him to unbutton it, which didn't take too long. He was practically worshipping every inch of my skin, which, combined with his gentle yet firm fingers rubbing me, was driving me crazy.

We both moaned in unison as he pushed a finger into me. It felt just as good as I had imagined.

I had read somewhere that, physiologically, women need more time to achieve an orgasm and although none of my exes had cared about that, this one seemed to know that fact. Maybe that was why he was giving me such attention, which I was undoubtedly grateful for.

“Honey…” I choked out “you’re doing great, really, really good, but would you mind if we replaced those fingers? I want to feel you inside me,” I practically begged.

I never begged, I felt like a fool doing it, but if that got me the intensity of the kiss he gave me, I wouldn't mind starting to do it.

Spencer pulled away from me, searching for the packet of condoms he'd run off to get, and while he unbuttoned his pants I got rid of my dress, which by this point was just a mass of fabric around my waist.

My body wasn't perfect, but I figured that wouldn't matter to him. Besides, I doubt he'd be rude enough to mention it.

“Need a hand?” I joked playfully, noticing that he was struggling to open the silver package.

“I’m sorry, I’m just a little nervous,” he said to himself, hoping I wouldn’t mind too much.

I wanted to reward him for treating me so well a few moments ago and I took the package from his hands, placing my palm on his chest until I laid him down against the mattress. Once in that position it wasn't difficult to get rid of the wrapping to place the piece of latex on him, thinking that I didn't have a single complaint about his body.

My hands on him made him nervous and I watched him turn into a mess as I began pumping his cock up and down to make sure he had the condom on properly.

“You don’t have to hold back. I like the sounds you make,” I exclaimed in a velvety tone, trying to sound as genuine as possible “That way I know you’re enjoying it.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to hold out for much longer,” he confessed, as my hand continued to move along his length. Although I wished I could take better care of him, I understood the situation.

“Your wish is my command”

He didn't complain when I put each leg on his sides and he bravely hardened as I teased him for a moment before sinking my pussy onto his dick. I started slow, trying to make him last as long as possible, but with each second it was getting harder to keep up a pace.

I tried my best to ride him, trying to give him the best experience as a thank you for all his hospitality. And from the whimpers coming out of his throat I assume I was doing my job well.

At some point his hands ended up on my hips, guiding me as he pleased. Sometimes he pushed me down, as if he wanted to get to the bottom of me, and other times he manipulated me so that the thrusts were fast.

He wasn't lying when he said he would cum in no time, as the repressed desire added to the previous sexual actions had him on the edge of the abyss. I knew he had reached orgasm when he closed his eyes and his hips slammed against me, in erratic movements.

I kept riding him a little longer, chasing my own climax, and when I got it I put my hands against his chest, arching in pleasure. Spencer, breathing heavily, grabbed my wrists in his hands and then pulled me so that I was against his torso, my lips too close to his.

He placed his palm on my cheek and pulled me in his direction, seemingly asking for a kiss. I granted it.

“Are you satisfied?”

“I am,” I sighed wryly. It was cute that he didn’t know that sometimes girls don’t even make it. “How was it for you?”

“I'm speechless.”

I laughed and, to a certain extent, felt flattered that I had left a man who knew a million ways to express himself in that state.

We enjoyed the high we had just had for a few minutes and waited for our breathing to slow down; when our sighs took the same rhythm, he spoke again.

“You should go to the bathroom. It’s, uh… healthy for you to do it after every encounter.”

I reached for the garment he had been wearing and, trying to protect myself from the cold air, I put it on over myself.

“Do you mind lending it to me?”

“Nu-huh,” he hummed, eyeing me as if I were a cupcake. I would later learn how affected he was to see me using his clothes to slide out of bed.

When I came out of the bathroom he already had his boxers on, probably wanting to maintain modesty, and when he went to attend to his needs I also looked for my panties. It wasn't long before he returned to keep me company.

“Do you want to cuddle? I’d feel like a whore if I just left”

“Yes, of course I want”

He made sure to throw anything that was on the bed onto the floor and patted the pillows to make them more comfortable. I settled into the space next to him, leaning against his chest, right at heart level.

One of his arms was holding me from behind and in some strange way that made me feel safe; protected.

“Your feet are frozen, are you cold?”

"Not much"

“Do you want me to get you some socks?”

“I’m fine, Spencer,” I laughed softly. I brushed my cheek against his skin and tried to snuggle closer to him. “It’ll just get colder if you leave.”

“Did you know that the human body is incredibly efficient at maintaining its temperature? When two bodies are nearby, like… now,” he paused, settling a little closer to me, “heat transfer occurs due to thermal radiation and direct conduction. Essentially, each body generates heat that helps the other maintain a stable core temperature.”

“So you’re like a human blanket”

“That’s right. In fact, in situations of severe hypothermia, sharing body heat in this way can literally save lives.”

I raised my head to look at him and noticed an excited gleam in his eyes, the one he always had when he shared something from his vast knowledge.

“I’ve been thinking quite a bit about what you said earlier, about female anatomy,” seeing him frown, I continued, “No field of study considers one experimentation enough, right? Everything needs to be replicated two, three, four times. Ten times if necessary.”

“Your guess is quite accurate.”

“Say no more. We must give everything if it is in the name of science”

From the smile on his face, I knew that my joke had pleased him and that my proposal seemed to please him. To seal the deal I reached up and kissed him softly. We remained silent for a while, him caressing me over his own shirt and me enjoying the closeness.

“I like you a lot”

“I had a feeling,” I teased, earning a soft laugh from him “I really like you, too."

He pressed a kiss to my forehead and for some stupid reason a blush crept up my cheeks, even though we had just had sex. I carefully placed myself on top of his body and buried my face in his neck, feeling him hug me around the waist.

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, I could tell by how calm his breathing was becoming, and I tried to enjoy the peace he emanated a little longer, until, eventually, Morpheus picked me up in his arms too.

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Thank you very much for your interest! I hope you liked it, if you feel like it, let me know what you think :)