#erin writes spencer

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Spencer reid x nurse!fem reader. They are already dating but she hasn’t met the team or they meet for the first time( whatever u like best). He gets injured while on a local case and she stiches him up while they flirt.

“you need to stop putting yourself in the line of fire.” “well that’s kinda my job.”

sewing the sterile needle as gently as possible through the gash at spencer’s temple, a blue glove pushing bits of his growing curls away. darting your eyes to his for a second to stare into his puppy eyes so you could say, “no it’s not. you’re a consultant mostly and i would like you to keep that big brain intact.”

“well yeah, but when they seem jumpy with the guns that’s usually when i step in.” moving his head a bit and you had to switch from his hair to his chin, not wanting him to mess with the few stitches. “sorry,” apologizing when he noticed.

“i love how brave you are, but please for my sanity, try to do this less. i don’t want to keep stitching my pretty boy together.” finishing your sentence with a cut to the thread then setting the pliers down and taking some bandages to finish the look.

“i’m almost done with my shift so if you want you can stay here. we could get some takeout on the way home and i can be your sexy nurse who brings you back to full strength.” shimming your shoulders and wiggling your brows. it brought a smile and light giggles from spencer, your heart grew two sizes at the sight and sound.

“i’d like nothing more.” his eyes bore into your soul and you couldn’t help as you leaned forward to press a small kiss beside his wound. “to heal you faster.” and then you thought, screw it, and gave your boyfriend a well-deserved kiss. you rested a hand on his shoulder and one of his went to your neck.

“reid are you ready to- oh. i’m sorry, am i interrupting?” you both pulled away, turning at the voice to see two people standing at the threshold. a tall man in a well-pressed suit and a shorter woman dressed in a deep red shirt beside him. they both eyed you, possibly analyzing your face. well this wasn't how you planned to meet spencer's coworkers for the first time.

"hotch, emily. this is my girlfriend." "hi." feeling incredibly awkward after they walked in to see you kissing someone, who technically, was your patient. your boss would have a field day if they heard about this.

[lindscys]

@dctrreids♡’d for a starter (still accepting) !

"where's morgan?" the question came faster than a hello would. derek was the familiar face for erin after all. when she'd heard that the bau was coming to help them on their latest case, it provided a silver lining to a case that had otherwise been getting to the entire team. their lack of leads, trouble in solving it, expecting to come to an end with the help of the bureau. "didn't leave him behind, did you?" hand passed out a mug of warm, not yet stale coffee from their break room. "reid, right? the genius kid?" she'd heard enough stories.

[sunsherbet]

Got Milk?

In which you ask your neighbor to borrow a glass of milk for a recipe.

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

CW: None

You wish you could say this was a first for you.

That deep down you were some uber-responsible twenty-something who made their grocery list and checked it twice, but you weren’t. This was the third time this week you’d forgotten something from the grocery store and only realized when it was that exact ingredient your recipe depended on.

It wasn’t even like you cooked often. You were a habitual air-fryer indulger whose culinary portfolio consisted of elevated cup ramen and just-add-water pancakes. 

But your sister was coming over, and you wanted to surprise her with her favorite chili oil pappardelle pasta. Hence, you needed a few more ingredients than your usual frozen dinners required, one of which was milk—an ingredient you realized, as you looked in your fridge, you were completely out of.

The minute hand ticked loudly, and your head snapped up to glance at the cupcake-shaped clock, which was slowly approaching 8:30—giving you less than an hour to finish your meal.

With time counting down, you had two choices for getting the milk: First, you could run down to the corner store and hope the creepy cashier wasn’t working tonight. That normally wouldn’t have been a massive concern, but it was winter, which meant it was dark outside already. And honestly, your sister's pasta just wasn’t worth the risk of dealing with someone who gave you the shivers. That left you with the second choice: flashing your best smile and begging your neighbors for a cup.

To the right of your apartment were Mrs. Hyde and her wife—two sweet old ladies who smelled like vintage perfume and flabby wine. Unfortunately, they went to bed at 7 p.m., so that was out. On the left were Mikael and his daughter Erin, but you two never quite got along, so that wasn’t an option either. Which left the one who lived across the hallway. He was supposedly a 'charming young chap' (according to the Hydes) and had lived there longer than you, but you’d never seen him.

Six months ago, when you first moved in, you’d baked some muffins and left them at his doorstep, but you’d forgotten to write a note and had been too embarrassed to try another introduction. So, this would be your first encounter with him. But it was an emergency, you swear! Otherwise, you wouldn't be bothering him with your trivial milk problems (even though they weren’t so trivial—after all, you'd already started the noodles and needed the cream base. Fast).

You grab a pair of neon Crocs, their bright contrast to your wine-red dress a jarring reminder of your frantic state, and rush out of your apartment, making sure to turn off the boiling water and secure the lid.

When you reach the door, you’re not sure why your heart is pounding in your chest or why your arms are covered in goosebumps. It’s probably just the nerves of meeting someone new, you decide, shaking yourself a little to readjust.

You curl your fingers to tap against the door, but just before your knuckles rap against the sturdy wood, it swings open. Standing in the frame is a tall guy with wire-frame glasses. He’s got a slimmer frame than his baggy plaid shirt can fill out, and a brown cardigan button-up rests just above his slacks. His bronze-like hair and matching doe eyes give you a not-so-subtle once-over, full of curiosity.

You jump in surprise, balancing yourself on the tacky wallpaper of the hallway. He quirks an eyebrow in a way that’s frankly adorable but you’re just a bit too stunned to fully appreciate just how attractive your neighbor happens to be.

“Can I help you?” 

“Uh, yeah, do you happen to have any milk?” 

He quirks his eyebrow again and this time you take note of the way his hair flops in front of it, “Yeah just not like grain or anything.”

You wave a hand in front of your face and shake your head, "Oh don't worry I'm not a hipster or lactose intolerant." The joke is rewarded with a small chuckle and you quickly decide it’s endearing. Dropping your hand from in front of him you stick it out, “Uh I’m your neighbor by the way. Not some random looking for milk handouts.” 

“I’m Spencer.” He provides, though he lets your hand hang between the two of you awkwardly, "Did you know the number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering? It's actually safer to kiss."

Dropping your hand to your side you pucker your lips dramatically, and tease, “Are you asking for a kiss?” 

“W-What? No!” He leans back and you erupt into a giggle, shaking your head at his grimace.

“Well if you don’t want a kiss do you mind if I get that milk?”

“Yeah, of course, I can help you with your..?" He trails off, seemingly not knowing what to call your predicament.

But you certainly know what it should be called, and answer without hesitation, "My life or death dilemma? The reason for my current milk escapades."

Spencer seems to relax a bit more at your rambling, his posture less stiff and more calm, "Hm, seems like it's pretty important." He quirks an eyebrow, leaning against the door frame.

"Well, I did say life or death didn't I.” You look over at his watch and tap a foot impatiently, "Hey um I'm kinda in a rush, my sister is coming over and I'm not even half done with the stupid sauce. Though in my defense, I didn't know she was coming until like a week ago and I'm an avid cereal eater so the likelihood of me even having milk when she came over is slim to none - but I took the risk and now I'm milkless and totally screwed because cooking is hard and god I think I burnt the noodles for this stupid chili oil pappardelle pasta-which by the way I don’t even know how to make." 

Spencer is biting his cheek because he can’t laugh. He can’t laugh because it’s rude to laugh at someone he’s only just met, even if you’re blabbering and blushing and wearing adorable chartreuse platform Crocs. 

When you moved in across the hallway, Spencer Reid had admittedly looked into you. It wasn’t that he meant to be intrusive—it was just in his nature. He’d always been wary of new people, especially given his line of work. So when the long-vacant apartment finally filled and the scent of Yankee Candles began to waft through the hall, he might have asked Penelope to do a little digging.

Though her extensive report didn’t do justice to the person standing in front of him now. 

"Oh my god, you're laughing!" You exclaim, positively mortified at his audacity to laugh at you in this time of need.

"Sorry! Sorry!" He catches his breath after a moment and licks his lips with a flick of his tongue, "Maybe I can make it up to you?"

You smile but your foot is still tapping, "Do tell."

“While I’ve admittedly never made chili oil pappardelle pasta I’m quite quick to pick things up. If you need any help I could-?”

"Oh please thank you!" Letting out a sigh of relief you go to grab his hand, only pulling back when you remember his tangent about germs,  "She'll be here in thirty minutes so we have to hurry."

"Okay, let me go get the milk, and uh we can start."

"Thank you, Spencer.”

"Oh ... you're welcome."

You don’t notice the blush.

[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 part one

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 

[spenceragnewfics]

CLOSET MAKEOUT? i need details !!!

I ABSOLUTELY LOVED WRITING THIS!!! It was so fun and I hope you all love it!!

BABY I’M YOURS | Spencer Agnew x F!Reader

TW: Allusions to alcohol, making out, hickeys, 

Word Count: 1.4k

Description: During a Smosh company party, Spencer gets desperate to have some alone time with Y/N.

One thing about the people at Smosh, they love to party. It’s kind of surprising with most of them being introverts and liking to be alone. Y/N guesses it’s because they’re all like family which makes it easier but it’s not for her to understand, just enjoy.

The company had just finished a huge project and so everyone was getting a well deserved wrap party. Ian and Anthony fitted the bill for it all as a way to say thank you and to keep up morale as this was the first big project since the company had become independent again.

The drinks have been flowing for hours along with food and plenty of music that has kept people on the dance floor. Y/N is currently there dancing with Chanse, Erin D, Angela, and Courtney, enjoying being with some of her closest friends. 

Not too far away is the group of Shayne, Spencer, and Marcus V (Chanse’s boyfriend). The three are watching the group with different loving expressions, their significant others not too far away, enjoying themselves. “Marcus, I’m shocked you’re not over there with Chanse. You two usually kill the dance floor at these things.” Spencer says before taking a sip of his drink.

Marcus shrugs, “Eh, he seemed excited to dance with his girls right now. Also it’s cool to be in the partner circle now.” He says, making the two other men laugh. “Yeah, it was just me for a while until Y/N grew the extra ball to ask Spence out.” Shayne teases as the aforementioned man rolls his eyes.

“Okay, whatever, easy for you to say, Mr. Golden Boy. Cast members dating is one thing but crew dating is another.” Spencer says, leaning against a wall. “Yeah, but I’m glad you too finally broke the tension. It was killer, dude.”

“Yeah, I know, I was in it.” Spencer deadpans, making the two men next to him laugh. It was true, Spencer had liked Y/N for years but never took a chance because he would always psyche himself out with the whole crew members dating thing. Thankfully, Y/N told him how she felt, after many many talks with Courtney about if she should do it or not.

Zoning out of the conversation, Spencer focuses his gaze onto Y/N. He watches as her body flows with the music, her head back enjoying the music as if she’s in another world. Maybe she is as she looks over to her boyfriend, a silly smile on her face as she continues dancing.

The look brings his own smirk and he sets down his drink, “I’ll be back in a bit, guys.” He says, not caring to hear a response as he walks over to the dancefloor. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulls her against his chest as he leans down to her ear “Having fun, little peach?” He whispers in her ear before kissing her neck. The feeling of his lips making her giggle, “Very much, is there something I can help you with?” She asks as she leans her head back onto his shoulder.

“Yeah, you can come with me.” He says before grabbing her hand and walking away from the dance floor. “Spence, where are you taking me?” Y/N asks, them getting farther away from the music makes it easier for him to hear and the excitement is clear in her voice.

“Somewhere private, need to be alone for a bit.” Is all he says as they continue farther and farther away from the party. Looking around, he spots a closet and opens the door. He lets her in first before coming in and closing the door. “So what’s this all-Hm!” Y/N starts to say but is cut off as Spencer kisses her roughly.

His hands are cupping her cheeks as he pins them to the farthest wall. Her hands find place on his chest as her hands make fists with his shirt to keep some leverage.

The room is dark, not light except the small sliver coming from the door frame. That doesn’t stop the couple as the two only become more intertwined as moments pass.

Spencer moves his hands down to her waist, squeezing every few moments while Y/N has one hand tangled in his, once, nicely styled hair that is becoming messier as the seconds pass. Her other hand is on the side of his neck, gently scratching the back of his neck which gives him chills. 

Moving his lips down, he kisses her jaw then makes home on her neck. She sighs happily at the feeling, the sensitive skin becoming a lovely fire with his lips searching the territory.

Starting to leave open mouth kisses, he finds the most sensitive part of her neck. The attention to the area makes her whimper as he starts to suck and lick, making a mark to show the world who makes her feel good, loved, and safe.

“If you keep going like this, I think we’ll have to worry about staying quiet.” She teases as he continues leaving marks on her neck. He hums before pulling away, “I don’t we’d have to worry, it’s loud enough out there and no one would come down here anytime too soon.” He sounds like he is basically suggesting and she can tell the biggest grin is on his face.

She uses this moment as her opportunity to push him against the opposite wall. He lands with a gentle thud before he feels her body on him, “I thought it was time to switch it up a little.” She says before kissing him.

Their lips move together in a passionate furry as he pulls her as close to him as he can. Needing to feel her all over him, like he’s addicted which he just might be. Her lips move down to his neck, open kissings being the way of travel down before she starts to leave hickies in her own right on him.

The sounds of his groaning and moans make edge her on. It’s sounds that not many people have heard and it’s something she treasures and values so much during their time alone together.

Once she seems satisfied, her lips move back to his. His hands land on her hips as she starts to unbutton his shirt. Y/N starts to slide the shirt off his shoulders when a knock sounds on the door, both of them stopping suddenly. “Spencer, Y/N, are you two in here?” Someone asks, it sounds like Chanse.

Before either of them can answer, the door opens and light floods the room. Standing in front of them is Chanse, Angela, and Erin. The couple looks at them shocked as the three’s jaws drop. “Chanse, what the hell?!” Y/N yells, “You didn’t even give me or him a moment to say anything.”

“I-I-I just-” The boy stutters out, almost speechless for once. “You three, leave now.” Spencer says, using his stern director voice. Something he has developed since getting his promotion a couple years ago. “Yeah, yeah, we were just about to. Sorry!” Erin says quickly as Angela starts to laugh. The door closes but Spencer leans over to turn on the light.

“Welp, that just ruined the mood.” He jokes, rubbing his partner’s hip. “Ruined the mood? Love, you should know me better than that.” Her face pulls into a cunning smirk. “But we should probably head home, don’t want another cast member or worse Ian or Anthony walking in.” Y/N says as she removes herself from him.

“Yeah, I like showing you off but that’s a bit much.” He says as she starts to button up his shirt. “Hmm, you do dress up nice when you want to, Spence. I like this look on you.” She says, wrapping her arms around his neck when his shirt is buttoned up.

“I’ll dress like this more often if you want.”

“No, I like your George Lucas look more.” He rolls his eyes as she laughs, “I do not dress like George Lucas!” He stresses, all she does is tap his chest with a teasing smile.

“If you say so, baby Lucas.” He groans as she takes his hand. The two of them leave the closet before heading to the exit for a lovely and fun night at home without curious co-workers trying to interrupt.

[thewulf]

The Analyst's Arrival || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Hi can I request a hotch x bau reader? I'm sure its been done before but I just love your hotch fics!! When Strauss hires the reader without Aaron Hotchner's approval, tensions run high. Hotch is distant and a little mean, but the reader's unwavering positivity and kindness start to chip away at his walls... Read Rest Here

A/N: Really loved writing this one. Hope you all enjoy!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader,

Word Count: 4.2k

TW: Yelling, gunshots (non wounded), general CM triggers

The BAU conference room hums quietly with the usual pre-meeting chatter. Derek flicks a crumpled paper ball at Spencer who is engrossed in his latest physics journal. While JJ shares weekend plans with Prentiss. The light mood does little to ease the stiffness in Aaron Hotchner’s posture as he stands at the head of the table with his folders organized neatly in front of him.

The door swings open and Erin Strauss steps in. It was a rare occurrence that immediately draws everyone’s attention. You follow behind her, your confident stride belying the curious glances you receive from the team.

"Good morning, everyone," Strauss begins. Her voice pulling the room into a focused silence. "I’d like you to meet Agent Y/N L/N. She’s joining us from the NYPD where she served in the Major Crimes unit. Agent L/N has a sharp analytical mind and extensive field experience which I’m confident will be invaluable to our team."

Hotchner's eyes narrow slightly, not at you, but at the way Strauss seems to relish the surprise on his face. He had not been informed of this decision—a move that didn't just sidestep his authority but outright ignored it. A move he hated.

As polite smiles and nods pass around the room, Hotchner remains motionless. His gaze finally landing on you. You seem unaffected by the tension your presence has stirred as you returned his scrutiny with a polite, unwavering smile.

"I'm very excited to be here and look forward to working with each of you," you spoke. Your voice steady and warm. "I’ve heard only the best about the BAU team."

"Thank you Agent L/N," Strauss cuts in smoothly. "I’ll leave you in Agent Hotchner’s capable hands." With a final nod Strauss exits, the click of her heels echoing a stark finality to her departure.

There is a brief silence as you linger in the doorway. "Why don’t we get started then?" Hotchner says. His tone more a command than a suggestion. "Morgan, Reid, can you bring Agent L/N up to speed on the current case?"

As the team dives into the details of their latest unsolved case Hotch observes you. You listen intently, asking pertinent questions that demonstrate not just your understanding but your capability to dive right into the deep end. Despite his initial resistance he can't help but admit—albeit grudgingly—that you seem competent.

Yet as the meeting progresses Hotch feels a gnawing sense of irritation. It isn't directed at you, but at Strauss and the situation he’s been forced into. Watching you interact with his team, a part of him wants to see what you can do. To see if Strauss’s confidence in you is justified. But as the leader of the BAU and with walls built from years of leadership, admitting that will take a bit more than just a good first impression.

In the days following your introduction the BAU team falls into a familiar rhythm with you, gradually weaving you into the fabric of their tightly knit group. Spencer shares book recommendations, curious about your interests. While Morgan teases lightly, testing your sense of humor. Prentiss and JJ involve you in their lunch outings often asking about your experiences with the NYPD.

However, Hotchner maintains a professional distance. During briefings he is succinct, his interactions with you strictly businesslike. His questions about your reports are pointed and perhaps harsher than necessary. You sense his doubt. Not just in his words but in the lingering looks that question your conclusions or the slight frown when you speak up during meetings.

One afternoon you're updating the team on a profile you've been developing. "Based on the victimology the unsub is likely someone with a deep-seated resentment towards authority figures. Possibly stemming from a troubled childhood," you explain as you clicked through the presentation slides.

"Seems like a stretch without more evidence," Hotchner interrupts abruptly. His critique hangs in the air. Heavier than the typical scrutiny profiles usually receive. You notice a brief exchange of looks among the team, but they remain silent.

Despite this you maintain your composure, responding calmly. "I'll dive deeper into the case files and see if I can substantiate that with more specific behaviors," you assure him with a nod that's meant to show both your respect for his experience and your confidence in your own skills.

As you work later in the quiet of the empty briefing room refining your profile, Hotchner watches from his office. The light from his desk lamp casts a long shadow and his expression is unreadable. The easy acceptance from others contrasts starkly with his skepticism and it's clear that you have yet to earn his trust.

One evening as you're the last two in the office Hotchner approaches your desk with his usual resolve towards you. "Agent L/N, I want our profiles to be watertight. I can't have assumptions without solid evidence," he states. His voice low and firm.

"I understand, sir," you reply, meeting his gaze. "I appreciate your guidance. I'm here to learn and contribute as effectively as I can."

There's a pause, a moment where something unspoken passes between you. Perhaps it's the acknowledgment of your dedication, or maybe it's Hotchner wrestling with his own reluctance to accept change. He nods curtly and leaves you to your work.

Despite the cold front you don't let it dampen your spirit. Instead, you double down on your efforts, pouring over case files late into the night. You were determined to prove your worth not just to Hotchner, but to yourself. Your positivity and commitment slowly chip away at the team's initial reservations and even though Hotchner remains distant you start to feel like a part of the BAU family.

As weeks pass your insights during case reviews become sharper. Your suggestions more intuitive. The team begins to rely on your judgment. They sought out your opinion, and slowly, very slowly, you notice a thaw in Hotchner's demeanor—a nod here, a less critical question there.

But the wall he has built around him isn't one to crumble quickly and you know that gaining Hotchner's full trust will be a marathon, not a sprint. Still, your unwavering kindness and the diligent sparkle in your eyes during every case discussion continue to sow seeds of change. Even in the stony ground of Hotch’s reserved heart.

A couple of weeks later and Hotch finally decides you’re ready to join the team in the field instead of staying behind with Penelope. Not that you didn’t like working with her you were just craving to do what you were hired to do.

The air is thick with tension as the BAU team arrives at the suspected hideout of the unsub at an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. It's late, the darkness only broken by the beams of flashlights and the occasional flicker of police sirens in the distance. Hotchner's orders are clear and concise. His voice a calm command over the sound of rustling tactical gear.

"Reid, Y/N, you're with me. Morgan, Prentiss, take the east side. Radio if you make contact. Everyone, stay sharp," Hotchner instructs. His eyes scanning the perimeter before leading you and Reid towards the main entrance.

The warehouse is a labyrinth of shadows and echoing spaces. A place that seems to absorb sound and light alike. You follow Hotch with your senses heightened every training you’ve undergone pulsing through your veins. As you navigate through a maze of crates and discarded machinery, a noise—a soft scuffle, almost imperceptible—catches your attention. You signal to Hotchner and Reid pointing towards a dark corridor off to the left.

"Stay here, cover us," Hotchner whispers. His gun raised as he edges toward the sound with Reid close behind.

You position yourself with your back to a solid surface, gun aimed at the corridor. Your mind races through various scenarios, but nothing prepares you for the sight of a figure lunging out of the shadows. Heading straight for Reid with a knife glinting in the dim light.

Without a moment's hesitation you break cover, tackling Reid out of the knife’s path. The impact sends you both sprawling to the ground just as Hotchner turns, firing off two quick shots. The unsub goes down, a groan echoing off the walls.

"Reid, you okay?" Hotchner is immediately by your side. His usual stoic demeanor replaced by concern.

"Yeah, thanks to Y/N," Reid gasps. His eyes wide with the adrenaline of the near miss.

Hotchner turns to you. His expression unreadable for a moment. Then, slowly his features soften, the corners of his eyes crinkling not with frustration, but something akin to gratitude. "Good work, Agent L/N. That was quick thinking."

Your heart pounds not just from the action but also from Hotchner's acknowledgment. "Just doing my job, sir," you manage to choke out though the gravity of the moment isn't lost on you.

As the team secures the scene and paramedics check over everyone Hotchner keeps glancing your way, his gaze lingering longer than usual. In those looks there’s a new respect, perhaps even a reassessment of his earlier doubts about you.

Later, as the team debriefs back at the BAU, Hotch publicly commends your actions. "Agent L/N’s instincts and bravery tonight might have saved Dr. Reid’s life and potentially others. Excellent work."

The team’s applause is warm, genuine, and you can't help but feel a surge of pride. More than the praise it’s Hotchner’s nod of respect towards you that marks a significant shift. It's a turning point not just in your relationship with him but in your place within the team. Your actions have not only proven your worth, but they’ve begun to dismantle the walls Hotchner had built around himself, brick by brick.

In the weeks following the intense warehouse operation the dynamic within the BAU team subtly shifts. You are no longer just the new agent. You have proven yourself as a vital part of the team. Hotchner notices the change not only in how the team interacts with you but also in his own perceptions.

One crisp autumn morning as the trees outside the Quantico offices burst with gold and russet hues, Hotchner finds himself observing you from across the bullpen. You’re assisting Morgan with recalibrating the physical training program for new recruits. The ease with which you handle the task, balancing Morgan’s strength with strategic insights, does not go unnoticed by Hotchner. There's a gentleness mixed with competence in your approach. A stark contrast to the decisive action you displayed in the field.

Later that day, you offer to stay late to help Morgan review the training schedules, ensuring they are optimized for the team’s needs. Garcia joins in eager to add her tech-savvy touch. Hotchner overhears laughter from the office you’re sharing, a sound that is light and genuine, making him pause as he packs up for the night. The sound of friendship and shared effort makes the BAU feel more like a tight nit family and he realizes you are a big part of that shift.

During a team briefing the following week Hotch openly seeks your opinion on the psychological conditioning aspects of the training program. As you outline your thoughts by citing recent research and adaptive training methods he listens intently. The team watches this interaction, clearly seeing Hotchner’s respect for you which influences their own views.

When the team encounters a critical situation with a string of high intensity raids you suggest an innovative tactical maneuver that saves valuable time and minimizes risk. Watching you handle the pressure with composed determination Hotch feels a significant shift within himself—a deep-seated respect for your skills and a growing admiration for your resilience.

It’s not just your professional competence that reshapes his thoughts but also your empathy and dedication. You take the time to ensure that the team is not only prepared physically but supported mentally. A role that enriches the team in ways Hotchner hadn't anticipated.

One evening as everyone is about to leave you pass by Hotchner’s office. He calls you in, an impromptu gesture that surprises even him. “Agent L/N,” he begins, his voice reflecting a mix of professional respect and something more tentative. “I’ve been meaning to say… your work, especially in these past weeks, has been exemplary. I initially misjudged you and I want you to know I appreciate what you bring to the team.”

Your response is a nod accompanied by a warm smile, but his words catch you off guard and a faint blush colors your cheeks. “Thank you, sir. I’m just glad to be here, and I really truly appreciate your guidance.”

It's then, in that quiet moment, as the setting sun casts a warm glow through his office window highlighting the blush on your face and the sincerity in your eyes that Hotchner sees something he hadn't fully allowed himself to recognize before. The softness of the light, the quiet dignity with which you accept his praise and the undeniable warmth of your smile strike him profoundly.

For a brief moment Hotchner is silent, observing you not just as a capable agent but as a person whose presence has subtly but indelibly changed the fabric of the team—and his own perceptions. The realization that he finds you beautiful, in more ways than one, surfaces quietly but powerfully in his mind. This acknowledgment isn't just about your physical appearance but encompasses the entirety of your influence on him and the team.

As you leave his office with a certain lightness in your step. The thoughtful look on Hotchner's face mark a turning point. It's a small almost imperceptible moment, but it’s one where personal and professional lines blur slightly, hinting at deeper unspoken possibilities that neither of you may yet fully understand.

The next case up had been grueling with long hours and high stakes that left the entire team feeling the weight of their responsibilities. As the post-case debrief wraps up in the BAU conference room the team disperses, leaving behind a palpable relief mixed with the usual fatigue. But as everyone else heads out to grasp at some much-needed rest, Hotchner lingers at the conference table organizing his notes with more care than perhaps necessary.

Seeing you gathering your belongings slowly he finds the resolve to address the change he's felt brewing within him. "Agent L/N, could I have a moment?" he asks. His voice much softer than usual.

You nod, curious, setting your bag down and returning to the table. The room is quiet now, lit only by the dim lights left on for the night shift.

Hotchner takes a deep breath, his demeanor uncharacteristically open. "I owe you an apology," he starts. His eyes meeting yours. "When you first joined the team, I was... less than welcoming. I questioned your capabilities. Not because of any fault in your record or your behavior, but because I was resistant to the change you represented."

You listen, surprised by his candor, as he continues, "I've always insisted on control, on predictability. After everything I’ve been through, it seemed like the only way to protect the team, to protect my family from further loss. But I've come to realize that I was protecting myself more than anyone."

Hotchner pauses. His gaze shifting away momentarily before returning to yours, more intense, more vulnerable. "You’ve brought a new perspective to the team, a resilience and warmth that I didn't know we needed. You've saved lives, not just through your actions in the field but by being who you are. And...” he hesitates, the next words clearly weighing heavily on him, “and I find myself grateful, not just for your contributions to the team, but for the light you've brought into my life."

Your heart skips a beat at his words. The formal barriers between you melting away in the quiet honesty of the moment. “Thank you, Hotch," you respond, your voice low. You were touched by his admission. "I’ve always admired your dedication and getting to see this side of you, it means a lot."

Hotchner nods with a slight smile breaking through his usual reserve. "I guess what I’m really trying to say is, I would like to... explore this, whatever this is, with you. If you’re open to it," he adds quickly, almost awkwardly.

As the room quiets and you acknowledge Aaron Hotchner’s feelings. Even though your elated you feel that pit of dread form in your stomach. Aaron was your superior… a shadow of concern passes over your face, quickly deepening into visible anxiety. "Hotch," you start, your voice carrying a mix of hope and worry that quickly spirals into panic. "What about Strauss? If things change between us... I mean, if we do this, couldn’t it really complicate things? What if it impacts the team, or your position, or—"

Seeing your distress, Hotchner steps closer. His expression softening significantly as he picks up on your escalating fears. "Hey," he interjects gently, his tone soothing. "Let’s just take a moment, okay?"

You pause, your breath shaky, caught up in the whirlwind of potential consequences that his words had unwittingly unleashed.

Hotchner reaches out slowly. He was giving you time to accept his comfort before his hands rest lightly on your shoulders. "We're not going to rush into anything," he assures you, his voice calm and steady. "Yes, there are risks, and you’re absolutely right to consider them. But we’re not in this alone. We have a team that supports us, and we have each other."

His words help, but it's the firm comforting presence of his hands, the warmth from his touch, that really begins to calm your racing thoughts. "We'll be careful," he continues. "We’ll make decisions together. I respect you too much to let this cause you any distress. If it ever becomes too much, we stop and we stay professional. That’s a promise."

Your breathing slows, steadied by his reassurances. Looking into his eyes you find a sincere commitment there. A steadiness that you’ve always admired in him now directed towards nurturing whatever might grow between you.

Seeing that you’re still tense, Hotchner does something he rarely does—he pulls you gently into a hug. It’s a careful gesture making sure to respect the boundaries but offering comfort. "We’ll handle whatever comes, together," he murmurs. "You're not in this alone."

The hug was unexpected but deeply comforting. It helps to dissolve the last of your apprehensions. You let out a slow breath, allowing yourself to lean into the embrace. You felt a sense of safety in his support.

"Thank you, Hotch," you manage to say with your voice muffled slightly against his shoulder. "I needed to hear that. One step at a time. I can do that."

"One step at a time," he confirms. Giving you a reassuring squeeze before stepping back to respect your space. "We have all the time we need."

As you both leave the conference room, your steps feel lighter. The burden of immediate decisions lifted. With Hotch’s support you feel ready to face whatever challenges might come knowing that not just the weight of the case, but also the weight of new possibilities could be shared.

In the weeks that follow your relationship with Hotchner develops quietly but deeply. Both of you are cautious, acutely aware of the professional boundaries that must be maintained in the intense environment of the BAU. Yet outside of those walls, in the small, stolen moments you find together, a new world seems to unfold. A world where you can be just Aaron and Y/N, not agents with burdens too heavy to bear alone.

You start with simple coffee dates after long shifts where the conversation drifts from case debriefs to shared interests in literature and quiet confessions about your lives outside the FBI. These moments are a revelation, filled with laughter and soft looks that linger longer than necessary. They are moments that stitch the fabric of your relationship tighter with every thread of shared vulnerability and joy.

Aaron, who has always been guarded with his emotions, finds in you an understanding ear and a comforting presence. You learn about his son, Jack, about the painful loss of his wife, and how these experiences shaped him, not just as an agent but as a man who fiercely protects those he loves. Your empathy and gentle encouragement help him navigate the lingering shadows of his past. Allowing him to embrace the possibility of happiness again.

For you, Aaron becomes the person you didn’t know you needed in his strength. His steadfast nature and unyielding integrity inspire you, guiding you through the complexities of your role within the BAU. His belief in your abilities boosts your confidence and his support becomes your anchor in the turbulent sea of your demanding careers.

Together you navigate the highs and lows of life at the BAU. After particularly harrowing cases it’s Aaron who helps you decompress by taking long walks by the lake near your apartment or simply sitting together in comfortable silence. And it’s you who brings light into his evenings with Jack making sure to join them for movie nights and slowly becoming part of the family he holds dear.

The relationship does not go unnoticed by the team but the respect you both maintain at work ensures that your personal lives enrich your professionalism rather than detract from it. Your colleagues see the subtle changes—how Aaron smiles a bit more, how you’re both more relaxed despite the demands of your job.

After a few months of dating, you and Aaron walk hand in hand along the quiet paths of a nearby park, he stops, pulling you close. The city lights cast a soft glow around you, and the world feels like it’s holding its breath. "Y/N, these past months have shown me something I hadn’t dared to hope for," he says, his voice low and full of emotion. "That it’s possible to find light even in the darkest places. You’ve brought that light into my life."

You smile while reaching up to touch his face gently. "And you’ve shown me that strength isn’t just about holding up the world on your own, but knowing when to share the load," you reply, your heart full. "I love you, Aaron."

"I love you too, Y/N," he whispers, and as he leans down to kiss you, it feels like a promise. A promise of a future together where love and understanding can thrive amidst the chaos of the life you’ve chosen.

As autumn turns into winter the relationship between you and Aaron blooms amidst the frosty edges of the season, weaving warmth into the crisp air around you. Your love, quiet but profound, becomes the silent strength that both of you draw from during the demanding days at the BAU.

One chilly December evening after a usually tough case that had stretched your limits and tested your resilience, Aaron plans something special to celebrate not just the end of the case but the life you are building together. When you arrive at his house after the long day, you find the living room transformed into a cozy winter wonderland. It was complete with soft blankets, flickering candles, and a fireplace that crackles with warmth.

Jack was at a sleepover and Aaron greets you at the door with a gentle smile dressed in a comfortable sweater that makes him look homier than ever. "I thought we could use a quiet night in," he smiles while leading you into the room.

The table is set with your favorite foods and there’s a gentle playlist humming through the speakers filled with songs that have slowly become 'yours'. Aaron pulls out a chair for you, his manners impeccable as always, but his eyes are shining with a joy that is purely personal. As you eat, the conversation flows easily—plans for the holiday, funny anecdotes from the day, shared dreams for the future. After dinner Aaron leads you to the couch where a blanket is draped invitingly. He sits beside you pulling you close into his side, and you nestle against him feeling the steady beat of his heart.

“Y/N,” Aaron murmurs, his voice soft in the quiet of the room, “when I think about all we’ve been through, I realize every moment led me right here, to this. To us. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

You look up at him touched by the sincerity in his voice. “And I can’t imagine a better person to share my life with,” you reply. Your hand finding his. “You make everything... brighter. More beautiful.”

Aaron smiles, his gaze tender. “I have something for you,” he says while reaching into his pocket to pull out a small, exquisitely wrapped box. He opens it to reveal a delicate silver necklace with a pendant that glimmers softly in the firelight—a compass.

“It’s to remind us that no matter where we go or what cases we face, we’ll always find our way back to each other,” he explains. His fingers brushing lightly over the pendant before fastening it around your neck.

You touch the pendant overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of the gift. “It’s perfect, Aaron. Just like this night, like this.”

He leans in with his lips meeting yours in a kiss that is slow and sweet, a seal over promises made and kept. The rest of the evening passes in gentle laughter, shared kisses, and dreams whispered between the folds of blankets under the watchful glow of firelight and twinkling stars outside your window.

Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y

[toiletclown]

breathless.

spencer agnew x gn!reader

mostly fluff, a little angst.

summary: you've had feelings for your best friend, spencer, almost as long as you have known him. it isn't getting any easier, and you need to tell him soon, whether he feels the same or not. your friends are pushing you, the fans already ship you, and after courtney and shayne's success, you just couldn’t bare to keep lying anymore. to yourself, or to him.

word count: 2028

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

It’s been two years since you graduated from Smosh crew member to Smosh cast member. You weren’t the first, and are unlikely to be the last, but it’s still a bit nerve-wracking. You were moved to cast not long after Spencer made his switch to cast, but that was exactly your problem, wasn’t it? When you were both on crew, it was easier. Small smiles, hidden glances, a blush forming under your mask. Once or twice, Brennan had swiveled his camera to the crew to get their reactions and you couldn’t duck fast enough to dodge the shot. 

You both shared moments without fear of judgment, knowing everyone at Smosh knew how close you were. Some more than others. But once you were both on camera more often, those moments dwindled to near nothingness. You couldn’t make eyes at him, he couldn’t flirt with you. Plenty of the cast flirted with each other on and off camera, of course, but it was different somehow. The office flirting became private hangout flirting, which then became no flirting at all. 

He didn’t get jealous anymore when Amanda or Angela flirted with you, and you did your best not to get jealous when he flirted with Tommy or Shayne. It was like your friendship was entirely platonic again. And while that was all it had ever been – platonic – it hurt a little. It was like something happened overnight, and the flirting wasn’t cool anymore.

The last time something happened before your promotion to cast, Spencer, Angela, and Chanse were doing Who Meme’d It with Shayne, and someone had sent in a meme about you always looking at Spencer. As soon as it popped up, everyone was laughing, and Brennan promptly turned his camera to get your face. You were smart enough to expect it, and you managed to push out a laugh and shrug to the camera. All in good fun, it seemed. But really, it was a little bit upsetting to realize you were so obvious about your affection for Spencer. You thought that you were fairly secretive and weren’t too over the top, but apparently not so much.

“Okay, ‘Y/N pretending they weren’t just staring at Spencer’! Spencer, any thoughts?” Shayne said through giggles. 

Spencer made eye contact with you, and you did your best to hold it. “Gotta be honest, Shayne, I wasn’t even aware they stared at me. Guess they’re sneakier than I thought!” Everyone was laughing again, and you joined in. Instead of making a joke about him staring at you, or a joke about you two flirting in your pod, he went with a PR answer. You could barely admit to yourself how bad it had stung. And sure, most people got roasted in Who Meme’d It, especially with the lack of funeral roasts, but it didn’t really feel good to have your private crush on Spencer blasted to not only cast and crew, but whoever ends up watching this video. And his comment was making it seem more one-sided than you liked.

After the laughter settled down, Shayne got back to hosting. “Alright, who meme’d it! Was it Erin Dougal? Courtney? Or Y/N themselves?” You made a silly face when Brennan panned to you, channeling your best mad scientist look. Your face dropped immediately after. No one saw it.

The cast members debated for a second before writing down their answers. It was Courtney across the board. “Alright, so we all think Courtney made this meme. Angela, what makes you think it was Courtney?” 

“Shayne, that’s a great question, thank you so much for being here with me today. I said Court because I have seen them having little whisper sessions with Y/N and I simply don’t trust like that!” Angela laughed, a bright smile on her face. She winked at you once the camera had moved away from her face. She was actually your go-to confidant, and you were sure she knew that. She was your best friend, behind Spencer, after all.

After a dramatic pause, it was revealed that Erin Dougal was the one who made the meme. You could have called that from a mile away, but that was because Erin was constantly telling you to ask Spencer out. You shot her down every time, knowing it was safer and easier to suffer in silence with your feelings rather than to possibly fuck everything up with your best friend. Besides, suffering in silence was what you were best at.

//

And now, a few months later, you were the one in front of the camera for a Who Meme’d It. It was your first time actually competing, although you’ve sent your fair share of memes in. Spencer and Angela were the only two people to continuously guess you correctly, which in the grand scheme of things made the most sense as they were your closest friends at Smosh. However, you were now competing against both of them, and your competitive side didn’t have a concept of “friendship”, unfortunately. 

“Okay! Welcome back to Who Meme’d It! Today we have Angela, Y/N, and Spencer competing. And Y/N is quite competitive so let’s hope they still have their best friends after this!” Shayne introduced you all, smiling at you to ease your anxiety. 

“Lest we forget what happened when they were on Don’t Win Mario Party and nearly killed me,” Spencer said, turning towards you with his hands folded on the table. His eyes were smiling, but he was trying his best to keep a serious face.

You turned to face him, mirroring his expression and hands. “Lest we forget you deserved that attack because you fucked with my controller mid-lap so that you could get seventh.”

“Okay, are we doing Who Meme’d It or the Newlywed Game?” Angela joked, and you and Spencer returned to your normal positions, excited to play.

//

After the shoot, Spencer caught up with you in the kitchen. “You got your first Who Meme’d It win, how’s it feel?” You had indeed won, but only by two points. Spencer was right behind you and Angela frankly tanked it this episode. Usually she wasn’t too bad, but perhaps she knew how competitive you were going to be and decided to focus more on having fun instead of winning. Especially considering there was content being made that needed to be entertaining.

“Eh, I feel like my competitiveness isn’t very fun on camera. I’m hoping we don’t have to scrap the ep simply because I was too locked in.” You grabbed some fruit from the fridge and prepared to make your way to a table so you could sit and destress before your next shoot. You weren’t needed on set for over an hour so you were ready to mindlessly doomscroll while you snacked on your peaches.

Spencer chuckled at your comment, which made your heart flutter a bit. Suddenly, you had the urge to touch him. You put your hand on his shoulder, mostly unconsciously, not actively making the decision but simply just doing it. His giggling stopped instantly, and he looked at your hand cryptically, his expression unreadable. All too suddenly, it felt too serious, too personal, so you instantly pivoted. “But at least you didn’t win, right?” You smiled, patting his shoulder and turning to head to your seat. 

You were hoping, for the first time ever if you were being honest, that he wouldn’t follow you. Things had been weird between you two for a few weeks now, and you almost wanted some space to deal with the pain of your best friend seeming to lose interest in your friendship. And once again, Erin had submitted a meme that made you a little upset. You knew it was unreasonable to be upset with her, as it was all in good fun and she wasn’t actually trying to hurt your feelings. You should probably try to talk to her about that, since you knew she wouldn’t take your upset personally.

This one was arguably worse than the first one though, because instead of it being at your expense, it was technically at Spencer’s. The meme wasn’t mean in any regard, but it was making fun of Spencer for consistently getting “lost in his thoughts” whenever you were on a shoot together. Of course, Erin alluded to those thoughts being romantic in nature, which earned a few oohs and aahs from the crew and cast alike. You had felt your face get warm and tried to remind yourself you were on camera and it was all in good fun. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by Courtney approaching you. “Y/N, Spence! Just the two people I wanted to see. I have a question for you guys.” 

Clearly, Spencer had intended on following you, since Courtney had greeted you both. You sighed as quietly as possible, before asking Court if you could sit down before you all got to talking. Your castmates followed you to a table, and you popped a piece of fruit in your mouth. “Okay, what's up?” 

“Well, we wanted to do a Guitar Hero stream next week. I know you haven't been on any of the livestreams, so I figured I’d ask if you wanted to be in this one. You don't have to play but if you sit and make commentary I’m sure that'll be enough! But of course you can play if you want to.” Courtney was always so thoughtful, and you made a mental note to thank her for always being so considerate. 

“Oh hell yeah, I finally get to show off my guitar skills. It’s been a minute since I’ve played, but if Y/N’s down, I’m down!” Spencer’s eyes lit up. He had been trying to figure out a way to impress you and gauge your reaction before he finally took the leap and asked you on a date.

Everyone had been encouraging him to do so for months at this point, but he still wasn’t so sure about it. Yeah, you blushed whenever he mentioned you on camera and you blushed a lot during the shoot today when Erin’s meme came up. But some part of him felt like that had less to do with reciprocating a crush and more to do with embarrassment. 

You thought for a minute, munching on your peach slice. “Sure, that sounds fun. Spencer, maybe you could teach me how to play?”

Spencer broke out in a grin, “Of course I can. Although I’m surprised you’ve never played it before, it’s an iconic franchise.”

Courtney worked out a few more details with the two of you before making their way back to their pod. When she had left, Spencer turned his attention back to you. “Have you seriously never played Guitar Hero before?” He genuinely was having trouble believing that.

Truthfully, you had played before. Many times. And you were actually quite skilled at it. But it’s been quite some time since you picked up and played it, and you knew you would be rusty. Plus, you were mentally hatching a plan. Have Spence “teach” you the game, play extremely badly the whole time, then on stream you can kick his ass on Expert mode. Perfect plan.

“I have not. I might have played once or twice as a kid but I don’t really remember the controls or, like, speed, since I know some of the songs are really fast.”

“Okay, do you wanna come by my place tonight after work? I have a bunch of the Guitar Hero games but I also have Clone Hero which will probably be what we use on the stream anyway.”

Oh, right. Not-so-perfect plan. If you were to be taught, you needed to be taught before the livestream. Which means you had to hang out with Spencer outside of work. You can survive one night alone with him, right? You’ve done it so many times before. Sure, it’s been a few weeks since you guys hung out, and with your increasing feelings for him you were sure to be awkward. But it was Spencer! Your best friend in the whole world! It would be just fine. Right?

[smoshyourheadin]

hi!! ive been reading ur spencer fics lately and im so invested in ur writing its so good ugh!!

if ur requests r still open could u pls write a shayne one where him and the reader interact in videos like guess who slapped me or a who memed it etc??

thanks anyway <3

surprise?

pairing: shayne topp x f! reader

a/n: i love courtney miller’s husband shayne!! he’s so babygirl!!! requests open <3

you stepped up in front of shayne, putting a light dusting of chalk on your hand.

and then you slapped.

you twisted your entire body round, slapping his cheek hard, and everyone gasped.

shayne’s blindfolded face stayed looking straight at you, now turning a light shade of red.

“oh ho ho,” he laughed. “this person has some, some pent up anger towards me i think.”

you scrunched up your face, smiling a bit as your boyfriend tried to analyze your hand against his face.

“well, this person has small hands, like, my girlfriend type small.” he was looking quizzically at the floor, and you turned to look at the camera with wide eyes.

“okay, i think im going to lock in heidi? that’s the only person i can think of at the moment.” he tuened on his heel to hear the verdict from kiana.

“that is… incorrect” she shouted from behind the camera

“what!” he squealed, rapidly waving his hands around. at this motion, you giggled a bit. and at this sound, he tore the blindfold off.

his jaw? now on the floor.

“OH MY GOD?” he pulled you into a tight, like bone crushing, hug. you’d been away, and this was the first time he’d seen you since you left for your best friends birthday holiday to rome last week.

there was a series of giggles from the cast and crew, clearly finding his shock amusing.

“surprise?” is all you can muster with the pressure shayne was currently placing on your chest. he let go slightly, holding you at arms length, almost not believing you were stood infront of him.

“i missed you so much!” he exclaimed, kissing you gently on the lips. “you need to tell me everything when we get home!”

you felt so lucky to have a boyfreind who cared so much for you.

“i will! but you need to say thank you to erin and ian who convinced me to come today, they’re the real soldiers here.” you shot erin, who was sat behind the cameras, a smile which she reciprocated, and walked over to ian to hug him.

shayne then put his blindfold back on, to which you shouted “can i hit him again kie?”.

and she nodded.

but, you felt a bit mean. the poor man had already been hit enough for one day! so, you sat over with mallory and erin behind the cameras, watching him flinch at people walking up to beat him up.

and you loved it.

[thrillered]

meeting spencer at a bar and he gets super confident out of no where and sweeps reader off their feet lmao

This was so fun and silly to write. Love you all <3

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The music was loud. You were standing at the bar, waiting for the bartender to come over to you. Your good friend Angela was in town for Vidcon and she insisted you come out with her and meet her friends. You weren’t much of a partier but you hadn’t seen Angela in so long that you couldn’t pass up the opportunity. 

You had gone to college with Angela, she quickly became one of your best friends. You were heartbroken when you had to leave LA, receiving an opportunity you couldn’t refuse. 

It was like the bartender disappeared. You decided to sit down, still not seeing Angela inside. You knew she was on her way but you assumed it took a minute to leave Vidcon considering the fame smosh had amassed. 

—

“Oh my god! I’m so excited!” Angela gushed, sitting in the uber with Spencer and Amanda. 

“Hey Spencer, do you think she's excited?” Amanda asked teasingly. 

“This girls gotta be the best with how much praise you’ve given her.” Spencer remarked, having heard almost nothing but things about you since the plans were solidified. 

“I'm serious Spencer! I think you’re gonna love her! You gotta talk to her.” She demanded. 

“Okay we’ll see.” Spencer compromised. 

—

Amanda and Angela beelined it for the bathroom the second they got to the bar, leaving Spencer alone. He made his way to the bar, waiting to order a soda. He stood there for a minute, not seeing a worker behind the bar. 

“I honestly think he went missing.” You commented, noticing the way the curly haired man was looking back and forth. 

“What?” He asked, turning to find the voice.

“I’ve been waiting for like 6 minutes.” You laughed, fixing the strap on your top. “I just want a sprite man.” 

Spencer zero’d in on you, focusing on your voice over the loud music. He looked you up and down, taking you in. “You come to a bar for just a sprite?” He asked, stepping a bit closer to you. “I think there’s a McDonalds down the street and it's like 2 dollars there.” 

You laughed, throwing your head back slightly. “You don’t say? I’m actually meeting a friend.” You explained. 

“Oh shit, that sounds like a date.” Spencer put his hands up, “Didn’t mean to harsh your vibe.” 

He was cute you thought, in a kinda nerdy way. Unfortunately, that was just your type. He had brown hair that curled slightly, especially around the nape of his neck you noticed. He was wearing a Creed shirt with a denim jacket over it, his glasses complimenting his eyes. He seemed familiar too, you weren’t sure why, granted he was a white guy and you lived in california so there were a lot of white guys. 

“Actually, do I know you?” You asked, with a scrutinizing stare, using this as an opportunity to really look at him.

“I don’t think so, but I’d like it if you would.” Spencer said, shocked at his forwardness. 

“Oh? Care to make that happen for me?” You asked, curious about the stranger in front of you. “Tell me about yourself.” 

Spencer had completely forgotten about Angela and Amanda. They hadn’t come to find him and some other friends were also coming so he assumed they met up with them, maybe Courtney or Erin. Frankly he couldn’t care less either. He had a beautiful and seemingly witty woman in front of him that he was confidently talking to, who cared about his friends? He introduced himself to you, providing a more formal greeting. 

The establishment was large but especially crowded in front of the bar, even with the M.I.A bartender. Spencer grabbed your hand and led you to a more quiet booth against a wall. The tall backing in the booth providing extra privacy for you. Before he sat down Spencer took off his jacket, folding it over and placing it beside him, giving you a new view of his arms. He had tattoos on both of them. You couldn’t help but stare, your eyes darting across the many different patches of ink.

“You like ‘em?” Spencer asked, noticing your gaze.

“I like the ones I can see.” You replied. 

“Here.” He said, sliding into the booth next to you and rolling his sleeve up, exposing more ink. 

You moved in closer, carefully examining each tattoo. “Thwomp, classy.” 

“At least you know who he is.” 

“I think I know all of these characters,” You looked, noting each of the pokemon, cartoon, and game characters. Your eyes stopping on a small rectangular character, “Except maybe this guy.” You traced the tattoo, looking up to the man, who you now know to be Spencer, for an explanation. 

“That’s boxman.” 

“Points for accuracy I suppose.” You giggled. “Do you have any more? Or just on your arms?” 

“I have others, wanna see?” He asked, smirking. 

“If you’re about to show me a waluigi tattoo on your left buttcheek…” You trailed off, “Count me in.” 

Spencer laughed hard at this. Your humor seemed to match his very well. “You still down if it’s on my right buttcheek?” He asked, piling onto your joke. 

“I’ve gotta draw the line somewhere Spencer.” You remarked. 

His stomach flipped at the use of his name, something about the way it sounded coming from you was so right. He couldn’t help but stare. You looked almost ethereal, even in the dim lighting of the bar. 

You had been engrossed in your conversation with Spencer, you hadn’t noticed your phone buzzing every few seconds. You unlocked your phone to 14 missed texts and 4 calls from Angela. The messages beginning with “Hey I’m here!” to “meet me at the bar” and “Where are you?” “God now I can’t find my other friend”. 

“Oh fuck!” You exclaimed. 

“What's wrong?” 

“Remember how I said I was meeting a friend?” 

“Not really… but yeah?” 

“Yeah me neither, that’s the issue. She's here and I’ve been ignoring her.” You explained, immediately feeling guilty. “I gotta go but it was nice meeting you!” 

You began to walk away, Spencer having moved to let you leave the booth. You stopped for a moment before turning around and crossing the few feet back to Spencer. “Since I’m leaving I just wanna say you’re really cute.” 

You walked away before he could say anything, making your way around the bar until you found Angela. 

“I am so sorry Angela oh my god!” You said, swiftly walking up to her. “I got distracted by this super cute guy, which is no excuse.” 

“It’s okay, I’m just so glad to see you!” Angela replied, throwing her arms around you. “It’s been too long.” 

“God I know!” You huffed, “Oh! Did you ever find your other friend?” You asked, remembering her text. 

“Not yet, I’m sure he’ll turn up.” Angela reassured. “Let me introduce you to some people!” She led you a table down, getting the attention of everyone. “Guys! This is one of my best friends from college! Meet Y/N!” 

“It’s really great to meet you all!” You smiled, looking around the table. 

People began introducing themselves. The introductions made their way around the table before Alex, who was sitting across from you, noted, “We’re just missing Spencer.” 

“S-Spencer?” You asked, slightly choking on the water Angela had gotten you. 

“Yeah, that’s the other friend I can’t find.” Angela explained. 

“Uh.. He doesn’t happen to have a denim jacket does he? Or a lot of tattoos? Notably a thwomp and large crab on his arm?” 

“Yes, that's exactly him!” Angela approved. “You see him?” 

You sighed deeply, realizing you had been accidentally ignoring her for her very attractive friend. “I met him, uh, yeah… You know how I told you about that ‘Super cute’ guy?” 

“No way..” Angela said, immediately putting two and two together. 

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Spencer walked up to the table, a coke in hand, not noticing you. Until Alex tried to introduce you two. You both froze for a moment, shocked, then quickly broke into fits of laughter. 

Spencer walked over to you, placing a hand on the small of your back as you both laughed. “We, uh, we met.” Spencer managed to get out, stifling his laughter. 

You found his laugh to be wonderful, like the sweetest music. It was dorky and yet so attractive. 

“I told you you would like her!!” Angela exclaimed. 

“I never said I liked her.” Spencer shut her down, sarcastically. 

You placed your hand on his shoulder, turning him slightly to face you. “Oh? You don’t like me?” You asked incredulously with a raised brow and a smirk. “I can totally leave.” 

“I wouldn’t do all that.” He laughed, putting an arm around your waist and pulling you into his side. 

“Yeah that’s what I thought.” You flirted. 

—

You caught up with Angela, telling each other about what had been happening in your lives. All while Spencer was by your side. After a little while Spencer untangled himself to go to the bathroom. 

“Holy shit.” Angela laughed, “He really likes you, damn.” 

“He must do this to all women.” You waved her off. Even though he was kinda dorky, the confidence he held with you had to be a regular thing for him. 

“Y/N.. he doesn’t talk to women.. And he's got his arm around you?? I don’t know what it is but damn he wants you bad! I’ve literally never seen him like this.” 

You thought about her words. You weren’t a super confident person either but something about Spencer was just easy to be around, maybe he felt the same about you. It was extra flattering knowing you were both sober and he just genuinely liked you. 

—

A few hours passed, people slowly leaving and heading back to their hotels. Finally you were about to say your goodbyes, giving Angela a hug and a promise to make your way to LA soon. 

“I guess this is goodbye Spencer.” You noted, sticking your hands in your pockets. 

“It doesn’t have to be.” He countered. 

“Oh?” 

“I mean if you need company tonight I’m free.” He offered, running a hand through his hair. His gorgeous hair. 

“You don’t have any big youtube commitments in the morning?” You teased.

“Not one.” He punctuated, giving you a long look up and down. 

Your face heated and stomach flipped at the insinuation. “My cars out front then.”

“Lead the way.”

[alana-reid-2005]

spencer reid x reader ౨ৎ you’ve been reassigned indefinitely to the bau’s nyc office; spencer helps you pack for the move

p.s. did i write this to cope with the fact that i’m moving 30 minutes away from home for college? you know me too well.

Five hours isn’t that long of a drive. If you could somehow convince Erin Strauss to let you borrow the BAU’s plane, the journey would be cut to a mere hour and a half. You don’t know if this move will be permanent, but you try to forget about that for now and focus on packing. You stuff your winter coat into your already full suitcase. You’re about ready to sit on top of your suitcase to attempt to close it. October’s just around the corner, and New York gets chilly with a capital “C,” even more so than Quantico.

It’ll be your first Halloween away from Spencer in seven years, you think morosely. Spencer knows how to celebrate the spooky season. Halloween is his Christmas as evidenced by the multiple excursions to the local pumpkin patch and trips to various haunted houses he takes you on each year. And that’s not to mention how he invites you over on the thirty-first to witness him spooking the kids in his apartment building with his various monster or ghoul costumes before treating them to king size candy bars.

You’re gonna miss that more than you’d like to admit.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as Spencer stumbles in, carrying a box full of knick knacks he’s making you choose from after reasoning with you that, “Seasonal depression is very real, and making your house a home is one small way to remedy the feelings of loneliness.”

He bumps his hip hard into your closet doorknob on his way over to you but barely seems to register it.

“Careful hon-“

“Hey, did you know that the subway system is actually way better than people make it out to be?” He sets down the box with a little huff before continuing, his hands immediately going up to make gestures as he speaks. “According to a New York Times analysis I saw this morning, there’s only about one violent crime per one million rides. And that rate is only going down as ridership increases, so I think it’s your safest bet for getting around the city, all things considered.”

You smile up at him. Here’s another thing you’re gonna miss. You’d drop all your life’s responsibilities if it meant you could hear him explain the world to you all day long.

He kneels beside you where you’re bent over your suitcase. “Anyway, I brought you some holiday decor! Pick as many as you can fit in your luggage. I’ll mail you the rest.”

He’s not quite smiling, but you can sense the joy radiating from him like steam from a thermal geyser.

“It’s barely September, Spence.” You try not to let your voice break. You just can’t muster his level of enthusiasm when you know you’ll be leaving him soon. Too soon.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He must’ve noticed you were off earlier today. Mercifully, he hadn’t mentioned it sooner, or you would’ve been bawling like a baby at eight in the morning. More than often, you feel this is the curse of your chosen profession: to always know how you and those around you feel but never how to help them or yourself.

“Please don’t cry, angel.” His arms are around you in an instant, easing your chin to his shoulder. He slides his hands down to rub your back, applying just the right amount of pressure to coax your body to melt into his.

“It’s gonna be okay, I promise.” He tilts back, arms tightening around your mid back until you’re almost in his lap. Physical touch is by far not on the top of his list of love languages, but he needs you to know how much he’s gonna miss you.

“I’m sorry,” you sob.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he murmurs, stroking your hair gently. “I’m driving up to see you every weekend. And you’re flying in for Thanksgiving. I think Garcia said she’d host this year.”

“Aw, Penelope always does the best job,” you sniffle, unable to help the grin that breaks over your face.

Spencer pulls back, beaming just as bright. Once your expression softens, he pulls you in for a kiss, painfully saccharine in its tenderness.

You’re gonna miss his coffee breath most of all.

[spence-whore]

I don’t want you like a best friend

Spencer Agnew x Reader

A/N not me doing another imagine based on a Taylor song whhhaaaatttt I love Taylor so so so much. I was listening to music in the shower and dress started playing I was like holy shit, I have to write a tension filled imagine with Spencer and this song??? Also, forewarning, I will be using gender neutral terms as usual but I will be using more feminine things and mentioning things like wearing dresses. one last thing, i just started my summer classes. so, i wont get to edit these as much as before. i apologize for any mistakes!

TRIGGER WARNING// some angst and tension:)

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Our secret moments in a crowded room, they got no idea about me and you.

Parties and little get togethers are a common thing with the Smosh cast.

They always find some reason to rent out an air bnb to throw parties.

Chanse suggested throwing a little party before you all got to leave the office for a two week break.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you could make it!” You hear Chanse screech whenever you walked into the front door with your suitcase. He come running up to you, to give you a quick hug.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss something like this. The parties you throw are always absolutely iconic.” You respond giving him a tight squeeze back.

“So, who all has made it?” You asked and looked around. A lot of the cast and crew had arrived, including Spencer. The house was absolutely packed but there was something about him having his eyes on you, that made you feel like you were on fire. The last time a party was thrown for the crew, the two of you had ended up in a bathroom, doing things you shouldn’t be doing to then turn around and call yourself only friends. The two of you played it off really well after though because no one knew who you had snuck off with.

There is an indentation in the shape of you. Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo.

“I still want to know who you snuck off with last time we had a party.” You hear Erin say whenever she approaches you and Chanse. “Yeah!” Chanse agrees.

Whenever she mentions that night, you see it catches Spencer’s ears. He perks up in his seat and gets that infamous smirk on his face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Can you show me to my room?” You mumbled and shook your head.

“I’ll show you but dude, that is such a lie.” Erin says and starts walking towards a hallway, where a bunch of bedrooms were located. “You had hickeys all over you. It was so obvious you tried hiding them too but you are not good at covering marks.” She said laughing loudly.

You just shook your head again and denied it.

“We’ll eventually pull it from you. Everyone’s going to be getting ready in a few minutes, if you want to go ahead and get dressed.” Erin suggests while opening your bedroom door. “You’re sharing with me and Angela, by the way.”

You nodded your head and let her know, you would go ahead and start getting ready.

Erin quickly nodded her head and pulled the door behind her, so you could get ready in private till her and Angela joined you.

You quickly pulled this dress on that Courtney had pointed out to you one day while at the mall with a bunch of the crew. They were recording a spend the day with us at the mall where they done random little challenges. You, Spencer, and Courtney had went into a store, trying to find goofy looking outfits for everyone to wear. The three of you walked around for a while before you just started looking at the clothes for things for you. You hear Courtney shout, “I genuinely just found something for you, Y/N! You would look so hot in this.” You turn around and see Courtney holding up a mid length black dress. There was a high slit in the thigh. It was a spaghetti strapped dress. It was simple but looked comfortable. You actually thought it was really cute. Courtney asked Spencer what he thought and his face flushed red very quickly and all he could do was nod his head yes.

You tried the dress on for fun and Spencer looked like his eyes were about to bulge out of his eyes. You didn’t end up buying the dress that day but you went back and bought it the next day. He wasn’t aware that you had gotten it, no one was.

You stood there for a minute, looking at yourself in the mirror, when you heard a knock come from the door beside you.

“You can come in!” You shout softly, flattening the dress against your body.

The door pushes open gently and you see Courtney and Angela standing there. Spencer was back behind them.

“Holy shit, is that the dress we seen in the mall?” Courtney asks, getting excited.

You just smiled and shook your head yes.

All of the silence and patience, pining and anticipation. My hands are shaking from holding back from you.

All of the silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting.

My hands are shaking from all this…

Say my name and everything just stops, I don’t want you like a best friend.

Spencer looked like he was about to pass out behind the two.

“Wow, you look… wow.” You hear Spencer whisper from the doorway while Courtney and Angela walk to sit on the bed behind you.

You acted like you didn’t hear Spencer, so you turned towards him. His eyes were just filled with desperation. It was like a mutual feeling between the two, you knew he wanted to reach out and to touch you. You knew that he wanted to kiss you, to hold you. You were dying for him to reach forward and to just put his hands on you, to kiss you as well.

“What’d you say, Spence?” You ask, trying to play off the little moment the two of you had.

Courtney and Angela were behind the two of you, looking at each other with complete confusion over what is going on.

“You look really beautiful, Y/N.” He says and clears his throat then gives you a tight lipped smile.

You just smiled back at him and shook your head. “Thank you, I really don’t though.” You say giggling. “I haven’t even done anything yet, besides put a dress on.”

Spencer walked around you to go sit in a chair beside the two beds but then realized that the tag of your dress was sticking out. He quickly walks up behind you and pushes your hair over your shoulder. You tensed up and froze because you didn’t know what was going on.

“Oh, uh, sorry. Your-“ Spencer got quiet then pushed the tag softly under the neckline of the dress. “The tag was sticking out of the dress.” Spencer whispered and gave your shoulder a soft squeeze.

The two of you move apart quickly whenever you hear coughs. Courtney and Angela quickly stood up. “We’re gonna go grab a drink.” Angela says very quickly, pointing at the door with her thumb. “Uh, will be back in a few minutes!” Courtney practically shouts as Angela pulls her out of the room.

The two might as well have ran out of the room and slammed the door shut behind them.

You and Spencer look at each other with confusion, acting like you didn’t understand what was going on.

“When did you end up getting this dress?” Spencer asked sitting down on the chair near you.

Only bought this dress, so you could take it off.

Carve your name into my bedpost cause I don’t want you like a best friend.

Only bought this dress, so you could take it off.

You had pulled another chair up in front of the full body mirror, to start curling your hair and to do your makeup.

“I just decided to go back the next day and buy it.” You respond, slightly shrugging your shoulders.

“Is there a reason you went back and bought it?” Spencer asked, trying to seem chill about the piece of fabric on your body, but he wasn’t playing it so calmly.

“I dunno.” You whispered while placing soft curls throughout your hair with a curling iron. “A certain someone’s reaction to me in it, just made me curious to how they would react to it if I wore it to something where we’ve made certain decisions in the past.”

Spencer didn’t say anything, he just stared at you with a shocked expression.

You started to do the pigtail trick with your hair, that makes it quicker to curl your hair. You parted your hair and put it into two pigtails then quickly curled the two pigtails. It only took two minutes to do then you pulled the two hair ties out of your hair. The soft curls had flooded down your back while you looked for your makeup bag. It hit you that it was still in your bag, on your bed, beside Spencer. You quickly sprayed hairspray throughout your hair and nodded back towards Spencer.

“Spencer?” He just nodded while staring at you. “Could you get in that bag and hand me my makeup bag?”

Spencer quickly stood up and grabbed your bag from the front of the bed. He unzipped it then retrieved your makeup bag, to hand it to you. He walked over and handed the makeup bag to you but the two of you practically grasped hands while he just stared holes into you. You felt like electricity was just shooting throughout your body while he quickly stepped back.

The two of you didn’t realize it but Courtney, Angela, and Erin were just staring at you two in shock from the doorway.

Spencer looked over at the door quickly then stepped back towards his seat to grab his drink that he carried in.

“I should probably go finish getting ready and help getting everything, uh, set up.” He whispers before quickly heading out of the room.

“Do you want to explain what that was?” Erin harshly whispered, looking at you with nothing but excitement in her eyes.

“What was what?” You asked nonchalantly, acting like you didn’t know what was going on.

“Oh my god!” Angela practically screams. “You hooked up with Spencer last time, didn’t you?” She whispered excitedly, jumping up and down in her spot.

You, once again, tried playing the question off but the redness all over your face completely called you out.

“Oh my god! Spencer is the secret guy you hook up with every time! Are you two like a couple or something?” Courtney asks while quickly pulling one of the chairs over beside you while you finished up your makeup.

You shook your head no, “I’m not going to lie to you about that. I honestly wish we were.” You whispered while finishing your eyeliner with a soft laugh.

The three women were practically exploding with the information they had just found out tonight.

“What happened the last time?” Angela asked, pulling a chair alongside Erin.

Inescapable, I’m not even gonna try and if I get burned, at least we were electrified.

I’m spilling wine in the bathtub, you kiss my face and we’re both drunk.

Everyone thinks that they know us but they know nothing about all of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation.

You kept working at your makeup and decided to just explain to the three women what had caused you two to end up in the guest bathroom, away from the New Year’s party.

“I have had the biggest crush on Spencer ever since I’ve joined the crew. I had convinced myself I would never tell him how I feel. The night of that party though, oh my god. It was like there was something in the air.” You paused for a minute to just laugh, remembering how you felt that night. “Every single time we would brush hands or something, it felt like electricity would fly throughout my body. I thought at first, I can’t do this. I ended up getting a little too drunk and so did Spencer. We were sat together in this hallway, just drinking and talking. I finally just told him how I felt. I panicked and jumped up, to run off but he grabbed my hand. He started to tell me how he felt then I, of course, happened to spill a little bit of my drink. He pulled me into the bathroom, to help me clean up. While we were in there, he was just wiping away at the alcohol with a wet rag. It literally felt like my body was on fire. I don’t know what made me do it but I just leaned forward and kissed him.”

The three women around you looked like they were about to explode with the biggest smiles on their face.

“Wait, so you two had sex in the bathroom?” Erin bluntly asked then got whacked on the arm by Courtney.

You just laughed and shook your head no. “Again, I won’t lie to you, we almost did. My dumbass stumbled and knocked over the rest of my drink into the shower. The glass shattered, so Spencer panicked and made me sit on the sink while he cleaned it up. We decided maybe the bathroom, during a party, wouldn’t be the best first time for something like that.”

“How did we not see something happening between you two?” Angela asked with genuine confusion on her face.

“Oh, there isn’t anything going on between the two of us. We’re only really friends, to be honest. I hate that we’re only friends but we never really approach the topic unless it’s in situations like us being plastered.” You admit, shaking your head in shame. “I think it’s because we’re both too scared to admit that we’re something more than friends.”

Erin laughed loudly, “Yeah, I’m sorry but the two of you are not just friends. You were, like, sucking each other’s faces off in the bathroom and being like little leeches.”

You just laughed and stood to face the three around you. “I’m done getting ready, so I’m gonna just head on out there.”

“You just wanna go see your little boyfrienddddddd.” Angela says in a singing tone.

You just laughed once again and shook your head at the woman before exiting the room.

You look around the entire room to see who all is here tonight. Not everyone is staying in the Air BNB, only a few of the crew are.

You spot Kiana, Spencer, and Shayne standing at a table in the kitchen, getting drinks.

You approached them and give Shayne a soft smile. “Hey guys!” You say with a smile on your face.

“Hi, you sweet angel! You look beautiful!” Kiana says with a big smile on her face.

“Oh, why thank you.” You take her compliment while grabbing a red solo cup from the counter and poured some kind of whiskey from the counter.

“There’s glass cups you can use, you know?” You hear Shayne say from beside you.

You look over and see Spence looking you up and down while Shayne is nodding towards the glass cups.

“Oh, that’s okay. I would probably end up accidentally breaking it again.” You say chuckling and sent Spencer a quick glance. He catches onto what you were talking about and heat flooded his face once again.

Spencer goes to take a sip of his drink, trying to act chill, whenever Kiana calls him out. “Spence, if you stare any harder, your eyes might get stuck.”

Spencer choked on his drink and shook his head. You were shockingly the only one to pick up on it but his hands started to tremor.

My hands are shaking from holding back from you.

All of the silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting, my hands are shaking from all of this.

Say my name and everything just stops, I don’t want you like a best friend.

Spencer quickly tries to shake the feeling he has and change the conversation but he can’t stop the feeling of heat flowing through his body due to you. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He was literally shaking from how nervous just your presence alone was making him. He couldn’t get over how beautiful you looked.

“Hey guys, I’m gonna step outside and get some fresh air. It’s getting kind of stuffy in here.” You say quickly to the group, feeling like you were starting to suffocate in the room. You didn’t want to admit it but the look Spencer was giving you was extremely intense. You couldn’t deal with it anymore because you were dying for him to just do something.

You walked away from the group and start to head out the door to walk outside. You didn’t know it but Spencer trailed behind you, wanting to get a moment alone with you.

You stepped outside, slightly agitated. You were getting so tired of having to hide everything. You were so tired of acting like you were just friends with the man whenever you both knew friends don’t sneak off to make out at parties with their other best friends present. You wanted him to hold you. You wanted him to kiss you, to touch you, to just show you that he wants you.

Only bought this dress, so you could take it off, take it off.

Carve your name into my bedpost, I don’t want you like a best friend.

Only bought this dress, so you could take it off.

“You okay?” You hear Spencer ask from behind you as you sat down on the porch steps.

You just laughed. “You know, I bought this dress with the idea that the next time you saw me in it… You might actually make a move further and act like we aren’t just friends. I mean this in the nicest way possible. I don’t want you like a best friend, Spencer. I want to be able to kiss you everyday and call you mine.” You answered him in an aggravated tone.

“I don’t want you like a best friend either, Y/N. Are you that oblivious? The day I fell in love with you, I thought that you knew.” Spencer laughed and said while sitting down beside you.

You just stared at him with confusion on your face, “What do you mean the day you fell in love with me?”

Spencer sat in silence for a minute, just taking the cold air in. “I have been in love with you for so long. The first time I remember realizing that I had fallen so hard for you was whenever I had first bleached and buzzed my hair.”

Flashback when you met me, your buzz cut and my hair bleached.

Even in my worst times, you could see the best in me.

Flashbacks to my mistakes, my rebounds, my earthquakes.

Even in my worst lies, you saw the truth in me.

You chuckled remembering the first time you had seen him with his new haircut. “I remember you came around the corner and I became like a stuttering mess.”

You started to shiver and Spencer noticed it. “Would you want to head inside? We could chill upstairs in the movie room? We can finish talking about this whenever we get in there.”

You shook your head yes, freezing in the dress.

The two of you headed inside and walked up the steps to the movie room. Everyone was in the big living room, drinking and dancing.

You two headed into the movie room and sat down in the plush love seat.

“Wait, so are you saying my reaction is what made you fall in love with me?” You asked once you got inside and processed what Spencer had said. You folded your knees under you and pulled a blanket over your lap.

Spencer smiled and nodded his head at you.

“That was during the worst time of my life, though. I was severely depressed and going on dates left and right because I just wanted someone to love me.” You said silently laughing over how desperate you sounded.

“You’ve always had someone who has loved you in front of you. You’ve just never realized it.” Spencer says and reaches his hand out to rest it on your knee.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes before Spencer broke the silence. “I want to make a move or whatever it was you said outside. I want to call you mine. I just don’t want to do that while we’re tipsy. I want to talk about it while we’re sober.” Spencer says giving you a soft smile on his face.

You nodded your head at Spencer, “I agree. It is probably best that we do talk about it while we’re sober.”

The two of you sat and talked for almost three hours straight, while people would pass by and make comments here and there. No one ever stuck there though, they were just letting the two of you soak up each other’s presence.

Before you knew it, you had passed out and Spencer had fallen asleep as well.

I woke up just in time

Now, I wake up by your side, my one and only my lifeline.

I woke up just in time, now I wake up by your side.

My hands shake, I can’t explain this.

You woke up and felt a pressure around your waist. You hear whispering and open your eyes to see Chanse and Erin peeking their heads around a corner.

“Holy shit, look at them.” You hear Chanse say while giggling.

“I’m awake asshole.” You whispered towards the two freaking out and they took off running.

You turn your head to the side and realized, you and Spencer had fallen asleep rambling over random stuff to each other. You know you had admitted your feelings to each other last night but you couldn’t help trembling due to excitement. You finally had the guy by your side that you had fallen so hard for.

The two of you were laid out across the couch. Spencer was laid on his side and had you in a tight hold around your waist. You were laid on your back. You reached your hand up and ran it softly through his hair.

Spencer scrunched his nose and pressed his face softly into your neck. His facial hair, tickling the side of your neck. You giggle trying to move your head away whenever you hear him slightly whisper, “Still don’t want me like a best friend?”

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

lesson in words | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader

for some reason today, annabeth was not in the mood for her princess dresses or jelly shoes. she raised her voice when you were shuffling around her room, trying to find something appropriate for the aquarium. she didn’t want her sage green pants, or her lavender plaid shorts, not even her scratchy sparkling pink skirt.

“i want these!” kicking her legs in the air to indicate her unicorn pajama pants. you just sighed, not wanting to indulge her antics, “honey, those are house clothes. you sleep in those for a long time, they’re not appropriate for a day out. now, what’s our second choice?” leaning against her dresser with a fist beside your growing bump.

“unicorn! i want unicorn!” she jumped her body against her mattress, the springs creaking. a headache brewing behind your eyes, “annabeth diana reid,” you kept your voice stern and level, “if you can’t pick out day clothes then we can’t go to the aquarium. that means you can’t see the stingrays for another month.”

she pouted as she crossed her small arms over her chest, her hectic bed head another part you’ll have to deal with. “i hate you,” she said it mostly quiet, probably meant to be a whisper but doesn’t understand how that works yet.

you pursed your lips while diverting your eyes to the floor, “well i’m sorry you feel that way, but if you can’t fix your attitude and change your clothes then you can stay in your room for the day.” leaving your daughter behind as you headed to your shared bedroom where your husband was tidying the space.

he turned when you stepped on a specific creaky spot, he greeted you with a smile that dropped when you assumed he saw your upset pout and wet eyes. “what’s wrong?” quick to hurry at your side with his hands caressing your elbows.

“hormones mostly,” sniffling, “and annabeth has decided to be stubborn today and says she hates me cause i won’t allow her to wear her pjs out the house.” spilling what happen in the last five minutes as fat tears collected on your lash line, one blink and they slid down your pregnancy cheeks.

“oh honey,” spencer leaned your head into his chest, neglected nails curling into his navy polo. one of his hands slid along the back of your head to keep you hidden while his other rubbed soothing circles between your shoulder blades. “she doesn’t actually mean it.”

“i know i know,” you sniffled as you moved to place your ear to his heart, “just hurts having her say those words. she probably doesn’t understand the extent of its meaning.” taking a deep sigh as you gathered yourself to lean away from spencer.

“why don’t i go talk to her? try from a different perspective.” his warm palms rubbed at your upper arms as he stared softly into your wet eyes.

you sniffled, “she is a daddy’s girl. listens to you more no matter what.” chuckling wetly when spencer just shrugged. he pecked a kiss to your forehead and guided you to the made bed, telling you to rest for now as he went to talk with your four year old.

spencer knocked gentle on her cracked door, “can i come in?” both of you were making sure to teach the importance of knocking before entering a room. she almost caught the act of making her new siblings.

“yes,” she replied quietly. spencer slowly pushed open her decorated door, his head peaking in first before completely entering and closing them in.

his daughter lay in her bed, her flower comforter swallowing her. only a small lump shifting gave away her hiding spot, spencer took a seat at the foot of her twin.

he gave what felt like her calf a loving squeeze, “wanna come out and talk?” her small heel nudged into his knee, “no.” spencer could hear her pout.

“why not?” “cause i-i-i was a meanie to-to mommy,” annabeth began to hiccup through her words. spencer quickly pulled her sheets back and frowned at her rosy wet cheeks, along with a line of snot leaving her tiny nose.

“oh honey, come here.” spencer wrapped his arms behind her back as she threw hers around his neck. she crawled into his lap, her small legs stopping at his hips. “do we feel bad about our earlier emotions?” spencer rubbed a large palm in soothing circles.

“ye- yes. i-i want to see sti- stingrays, and i-i want to match with mo- my mommy.” her words a blubbering mess as she panicked over something small for the adults but other worldly for her child mind.

spencer cooed in her ear, “why don’t we go apologize first. see if she’ll accept.” he felt annabeth nod in agreement. he carried her the short distance to the master bedroom where you were laying on your back as your palms rubbed your stomach and you stared at the ceiling.

you turned your head at a small knock, your face softening at the sight before you. “someone has something to say,” spencer said as he let annabeth’s feet sit on the bed.

the young girl untangled from her father’s hold and slowly walked to sit beside you. you could hear her ragged inhales and frowned at her flushed face. “i- i- i am sorry for ye- yelling. i want to go to aquarium and you- you can help dress me, mo- mommy.” her tiny hands pulled at the helm of her sleep shirt.

you let a palm caress her warm cheek, “i was a little hurt when you said you hate me,” wanting to be truthful to your brilliant child.

her lip wobbled, “i- i didn’t mean it. i lo- love you with my whole body.” something you say to her to show your complete extent of affections. “i heard that it was an unkind word, i- i re- regret saying it.”

“i know you do, honey.” pulling her into your chest for an awkward side hug. “let’s be mindful of our words, alright? they’re very powerful.” petting down her hair, you felt her nod on your shoulder.

“are my two girls friends again?” spencer spoke up during the moment. he stayed near the edge of the room to give the both of you space.

you pressed a kiss into annabeth’s temple, “i think so. what about you bethie, do you want to wear matching overalls today?”

her eyes peeked at your through clumped lashes, “can- can we also do bows?”

you squeezed her side, “of course, bethie-boo.”

-

a/n: i took this idea from @khxna that they left on a post of mine. thank you for sharing💗

[ginkgo-phyta]

heyy do you write for hotch? If yes can I request a fic with hotch falling asleep on reader's shoulder on the jet. like there are so many fics with reader sleeping on his shoulder and he's all soft about it and lets her. how would the bau react to see their tough boss just cuddle up with his girlfriend after a long case (it can be established relationship or before that too). thanku!

A/N: im screaming HAHA i LOVE THIS! i made this an established relationship hehe i hope you enjoy, my love! 

tagged spencer reid x reader because i want more people to see this teehee pls dont hate me i have spencer fics yall should read if you havent already but also you should still read this too

fluff, BAU!reader, gender-neutral reader, mention of cannon type violence/hostage situation/nothing explicit or detailed, 1.8k words

“Hey, you okay?” Your tired eyes peered up at Aaron as he neared your seat on the jet, tie loosened and top button of his shirt undone. He had just gotten off the phone with the section chief, who, undoubtedly, scolded him as if he were a wayward adolescent. Although the smile he offered you in response was tight lipped and less-than-giving, his eyes told a different tale. They softened as they met yours, shedding their cold and hard façade to reveal a weary truth, littered with hints of desperation. 

This case had been long and grueling, tensions insurmountably higher than usual with Erin Strauss breathing down Hotch’s neck, scrutinizing every decision he and the rest of the team made. You barely got a chance to talk to Aaron about how he was doing, always being waved off by the older man with “We can talk later,” or “It doesn’t matter right now, let’s focus on the case,”. Begrudgingly, you obliged, understanding there was no point in pushing him. It would only add to his stress. Although the case was solved, the end was arduous. The unsub had taken a hostage and, with the rest of the BAU’s input, the negotiation tactics went a different way than what Erin deemed appropriate. 

A heavy sigh parted Aaron’s lips as he slumped into his seat, you could practically see steam of stress billowing off of him. “It’s fine, everything’s fine.” He spoke quietly, eyes closed, but you could tell he didn’t believe it to be true. 

“Strauss tear you a new one?” Rossi piqued from across the table. 

The unit chief huffed out a short laugh. “Nothing out of the ordinary.” Rossi just nodded at this, turning his attention back to his notepad. Hotch looked to the rest of his team as they settled into their desired spots, “Let’s all get some rest, alright?” 

Everyone wordlessly nodded, not having to be told twice. 

Aaron lazily turned his head to you with a book in your lap, “You, too, Agent.” He gave you a playfully pointed look.

You breathed out a quiet chuckle, “I will, don’t worry.” You shut the book and turned to give your beloved undivided attention, gazing into his suddenly undecipherable, deep hickory eyes. “You wanna talk about it?” 

He gently shook his head, eyelids feeling heavy as his blinks became slower and slower, “At home,” he whispered, your stomach doing a somersault at the notion. Aaron tried to fight sleep for just a few seconds longer, wanting to just stare at you for a bit.

You faced him, head leaned against the headrest, smile so warm and endearing. The way you chuckled at him was like getting a glimpse of heaven. He couldn’t wait to go home and have you all to yourself. The feeling of your arms wrapped around him was his life raft in the tumultuous storm of his emotions. It was hard for him to express what he was feeling all the time, but with you around his walls of reinforced concrete tumbled. Aaron gave you a small, sleepy smile.

Before he could say anything else, you spoke up. “Sleep,” it was a simple command, and the usually stubborn man melted into his seat at your word. 

You took a couple minutes longer to watch him immediately fall into a deep slumber, his breaths becoming deeper and longer, lips parted ever-so-slightly, eyebrows twitching here and there. With a breathy laugh, you fought the urge to reach up and caress his face and move the little stray strands of hair off of his forehead, still aware that your coworkers could witness such an intimate moment. The two of you had begun dating five months ago, but it wasn’t until three months later that you broke the news to the team. 

It had been a long time coming; for quite a while everyone knew about the feelings you harbored for your boss- even Hotch himself knew. You didn’t do a very good job of hiding it, taking every opportunity you could to blithely flirt with him. Some might just assume you did so in a similar way to how Penelope and Derek toy with each other, but the profilers knew in the back of their minds it wasn’t the case. Aaron fought you at first, pleading with you to stop calling him “handsome”, “big man”, or even “honey” in one case. You never gave in, though, buckling down on your efforts upon seeing the way he would chuckle caught off guard and almost blush in many instances. Slowly yet surely, he gave in to your teases. You burrowed your way into the stoic man’s heart, creating a place you would die before giving up. Aaron didn’t even realize it was happening until his world came crashing down on him one fateful evening. 

A routine questioning of a suspect had led to you getting held hostage, the man whose house you went to turning out to be the unsub. This had happened many times before in the history of the BAU, but for some reason Aaron was more on edge. There was no covert entrance into the home and the unsub refused to open up a line of communication with the agents, leaving everyone in the dark wondering what the state of your wellbeing was. Aaron had begun pacing back and forth in the tent they had set up outside the house you were being held in, hands held to his head. 

“Hotch, it’s going to be okay.” Derek stepped forward, trying to calm his superior’s nerves. 

“He’s right, Aaron.” Rossi piped in. “We’ve dealt with this before, we can fix this.”   

“No,” Hotch murmured back, “This isn’t the same. It’s not the same.” His pacing didn’t let up. “This is my fault, I should have told someone to go, too. I could have prevented this.”

The others held unspoken conversations within the glances they shared. 

“Hotch-” Emily tried to speak up, to convince him that wasn’t the case.

“NO!” He yelled suddenly, stopping in his tracks. “You don’t understand, I can’t lose them!” His voice was heavy with despair, eyes wide in anguish.

All eyes were trained on him, his coworkers at loss for words at the confession. 

“I can’t lose them…” Aaron mumbled this himself before roughly pushing out of the tent.

You smiled to yourself as you took a last glance towards the sleeping man next to you before turning back to your book. Safe to say, you were incredibly shocked when Aaron showed up on your doorstep in the dark of the night all those months ago, soaked in the rain, kissing you with a sense of urgency before you could even ask him what he was doing there. You bit your lip at the memory, but shook it out of your head to try and focus in on the jumbled words swimming in your lap. From the get-go, the two of you decided you would remain extremely professional around your coworkers, and you did just that. You stopped your teasing, for the most part at least, and made sure to never initiate physical contact on the job. Anyone that didn’t already know you were in a relationship would never have guessed. The most you allowed yourselves was sitting next to one another on the jet, just like you were doing now. 

An unintelligible murmur and huff sounding from your side drew your short-lived attention away from the delicate pages in front of you. Just as you were about to look over to Aaron and make sure he was okay, a heavy weight thumped onto your shoulder. His head. You were taken aback, a giggle slipping through your lips before you could help it. Your fingers flew up to your mouth, trying to keep yourself quiet as you noticed him shift a bit, making himself more comfortable. Sure, you’d accidentally fallen against Hotch’s shoulder in your sleep a couple times before the two of you entered a relationship, but never in a million years did you expect him to do the same to you. On the jet. In front of everyone. Of course, he couldn’t control his actions in his sleep, you reasoned. And maybe you should gently shrug him off to help retain his authority around the teasing profilers. But, this time, you fought off that thinking and gave in to your instinct. He had been so tense and strung out this entire case, you knew he needed this.

To hell with professionalism. You thought with a devilish grin, happy in your resolution. And so, you gently closed your book and slid it onto the table in front of you, trying your best to move as little as possible before leaning your head against his own and closing your eyes. With the gentle hum of the jet engines and the comforting sounds of Aaron’s breathing, you were lulled into a wonderful slumber in no time.

“Oh my God,” Emily breathed out, garnering the attention of Spencer who rested in the same group of seats as her. He looked up at her with one eye from where he was slumped over in his window seat, trying to get some shut-eye. 

“Huh?” the sleepy doctor grumbled, pushing himself a bit more upright when he noticed Emily looking at something on the other side of the jet, her face a mixture of shock and glee. 

The raven-haired agent began slapping Derek’s shoulder, who sat peacefully next to her with his eyes closed and headphones over his ears. His eyes flew open, looking over to Emily with annoyance as he took off his headphones, “What! What!”    

Immediately Emily shushed him, “Look!” she whispered, hand flying wildly in the air, eyes still unmoving. 

Derek followed her line of sight the scene before him pulling a laugh of disbelief from his lungs. “Well, well, well…” 

Emily’s hands covered her mouth in astonishment. “JJ!” she whispered over to the blonde who lay curled up on the sofa next to them. “Ugh,” she groaned quietly, unable to wake her coworker. 

“I can’t believe this,” she whispered mostly to herself, settling back in her seat, garnering a shake of Morgan’s head.

The view of their hard-headed unit chief sleeping peacefully on the shoulder of his subordinate, the latter’s head resting sweetly back on his was suddenly blacked by the side of Rossi’s body as he stuck his arm out, trying to get the best angle to immortalize this moment on camera.

“Good for them,” Morgan grinned, his voice proudly announcing his amusement as he put his headphones back over his head.

“Rossi, you better send me that!” Emily spoke up just a little bit louder, the old man looking back and motioning his phone towards her in acknowledgement.

“What? What!?” Spencer whisper-yelled, unsuccessfully craning his head above and between the seats to get a glimpse of what all the hubbub was about, “What are you guys looking at!?”    

“Penelope’s gonna flip,” Emily mumbled to herself, a teasing smile playing on her face as she looked down at the picture Rossi sent her. Without a second thought, she saved the photo onto her phone. They’re never gonna live this down.     

A/N: i hope you liked this!! i had a fun time writing it ehehe hotch is such a dilf, like an ACTUAL dilf im not even attracted to fathers but hotch?? all day, every day, baby!

[xoista]

let's read and get so high we can't recognize the real world around us !

❥ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐒 (in order) ★ slashers. stranger things. the peaky blinders. criminal minds. euphoria. the punisher ˎˊ˗

smut, angst and fluff included.

˚₊⊹ 20/20 VISION ✧ ethan landry. ── @echnated !

[ sfw ] okokok! reader x lalala! ethan.

loved the concept, writing and the fic.

˚₊⊹ CLASSMATE CHARLIE WALKER ✧ charlie walker. ── @lithiumfae !

[ sfw - bit of spice ] obsession.

the obsession with her voice is literally everything to me because my voice is rather… man like.

˚₊⊹ DAMN, BOY! SLOW DOWN! ✧ thomas hewitt. ── @vampiremillk !

[ nsfw ] chubby black reader. breeding kink. overstimulation.

i just love pussydrunk! thomas :))

˚₊⊹ SOUTHERN STYLE CREAMPIE ✧ thomas hewitt. ── @/vampiremillk !

[ nsfw ] female chubby reader. breeding kink.

mwahhhh. the whole thing at my legs shaking.

˚₊⊹ NO.1 AUNTIE ✧ steve harrington. ── @erin-bo-berin !

[ sfw ] single mom! reader. steve x single mom! reader. robin x single mom! reader (platonic).

i can literally imagine robin being the funniest auntie alive and i love this.

˚₊⊹ DEVILISHLY HANDSOME MAN ✧ thomas shelby. ── @toomanyfandomsallatonce !

[ sfw ] lots of flirting. kinda dirty flirting. eating.

the flirting throughout had me kicking my feet in the air.

˚₊⊹ EAT YOU OUT- I MEAN ✧ spencer reid. ── @ddejavvu !

[ sfw - bit of spice ] spencer being a complete reck.

the post should say it for its self. just beautiful.

˚₊⊹ HOT WIFE ✧ spencer reid. ── @radiant-reid !

[ sfw ] hot wife! reader x spencer reid.

them sliding it under the table is EVERYTHING that i never knew i needed.

˚₊⊹ MESS OF MINE ✧ aaron hotchner. ── @hotchgirlsummer !

[ sfw ] female! bimbo! reader.

the cutest of this fic makes me wanna just die. i am in love with him. i believe it was written by gods.

˚₊⊹ DO YOU LIKE HER ✧ elliot. ── @eunoiathewriter !

[ sfw ] talks of smoking weed and drugs (duh, it’s euphoria).

i just loved it. thank you for writing this.

˚₊⊹ SHOW ME LOVE ✧ frank castle. ── @captainmarvels !

[ sfw - angst-ish ] insecurities.

so fluffy and adorable i would blush if i could…

TO WRITERS ! thank you for being here and for your wonderful writing. your writing is not only people of color friendly but also beautiful, and really appreciated by everyone. i hope you have a beautiful day, because you deserve it. <33

[emilyprentisswife]

Character X Reader Masterlist

Jemily

We're here for you by @veeluvss

Jealousy jealousy by @garciaasfluffypen

Girl Next Door by @msschemmenti

Girl Next Door 2 by @msschemmenti

Girl Next Door 3 by @msschemmenti

Picture Mail by @msschemmenti

Emily by @msschemmenti

Emergency Contacts by @msschemmenti

Problem Solved by @msschemmenti

Migraines by @oneshotnewbie

Emily Prentiss

burning by @illdowhatiwantthanks

tiny by @illdowhatiwantthanks

thigh scars by @make-me-imagine

Tracing you by @illdowhatiwantthanks

hidden by @make-me-imagine

But the scars still linger by @washoping

Smoke Signals by @multifandomme

Special Set by @womenloverlmao

Not Fair by @lis-likes-fics

Back of the rig by @notaboypossiblyagenius

Full of surprises by @stayevildarling

Turning up the heat by @badathumanemotions

Hurricane Heat by @drreidssahotch

Jennifer Jareau

Hate to love you by @leftoverenvy

don't touch me by @make-me-imagine

Sara by @jenniferjareauwife

Push and pull by @marasmadness

Talking Back by @the-thing-withfeathers

Unrequited by @presentmacandcheese

The Aftermath by @illdowhatiwantthanks

Spencer Reid

I wanna watch by @minswriting

Luxury Poker Nights by @beelmons

Bad day by @veeluvss

you deserve better by @mrvltwimagines

you're not alone by @naturallytom

Bittersweet Part 1 by @vxlkyrie

Bittersweet Part 2 by @vxlkyrie

Bittersweet Part 3 by @vxlkyrie

Minutes by @eimiette

Accidents by @tinystarbites

Reid and sex by @thepokyone

Hotchner

Hurt by @mindfullycriminal

Grazed by @ddejavvu

Unexpected Interrogation by @hoe4hotchner

Extra Credit by @hoe4hotchner

BAU

i think I'm finally clean by @mxssingmemories

The happiest people are the most saddest by @letarasstuff

Casey Novak

Changes by @illdowhatiwantthanks

Severide/Casey/Halstead

Scars by @sevcasejay1chicago

Peace by @sevcasejay1chicago

I'll take care of you by @sevcasejay1chicago

You're the best by @sevcasejay1chicago

I Gotcha Partner by @sevcasejay1chicago

I'm with you by @sevcasejay1chicago

Everything's gonna be alright by @sevcasejay1chicago

Messed with the wrong one by @sevcasejay1chicago

We Have you by @sevcasejay1chicago

Morning Sickness by @sevcasejay1chicago

Not a burden by @sevcasejay1chicago

Surgery by @sevcasejay1chicago

Hot by @sevcasejay1chicago

Babysitting Mishaps by @sevcasejay1chicago

The War Within by @sevcasejay1chicago

Besties are everything by @sevcasejay1chicago

We chose you by @sevcasejay1chicago

Overstimulated by @sevcasejay1chicago

Can't spell panic without pain by @sevcasejay1chicago

Real by @sevcasejay1chicago

Jay Halstead

You're the man (but i got the power) by @marshmallows2345

All fun and games until its not by @ally-writes-many-things

Always Prologue by @onechicagolife

Always Part 1 by @onechicagolife

Always Part 2 by @onechicagolife

Always Part 3 by @onechicagolife

Always Part 4 by @onechicagolife

Always part 5 by @onechicagolife

Always Part 6 by @onechicagolife

Always Part 7 by @onechicagolife

Always Part 8 by @onechicagolife

Always Part 9 by @onechicagolife

Always Part 10 by @onechicagolife

Always Part 11 by @onechicagolife

Always Part 12 by @onechicagolife

Always Bonus Scene by @onechicagolife

Always Part 13 by @onechicagolife

Always Part 14 by @onechicagolife

Always Part 15 by @onechicagolife

Always Part 16 by @onechicagolife

Always Part 17 by @onechicagolife

Always Part 18 by @onechicagolife

Always Part 19 by @onechicagolife

Always Part 20 by @onechicagolife

Always Part 21 by @onechicagolife

Erin Lindsay

You're the man (but i got the power) by @marshmallows2345

Hailey Upton

Old Secrets by @redhairedwolfwitch

Lexa Kom Trikru

Sister Responsibilities by @redhairedwolfwitch

Like Sister by @randomimagines

Sylvie Brett

Good Girl by @strwbrrykss

[spenceragnewfics]

HEY EFFIEEE!!!

I just want to start off by saying that I literally love all of your fics so much they are all so well written!! 😍😍

I was wondering if you would be willing to write a Spencer fic where the reader is new to working at smosh and they become fast friends and end up dating and everything?????

So sorry this took so long! Hope it's worth it!

LUCKY | Spencer Agnew x F!Reader

Summary: Y/N, a new employee at Smosh, begins her journey surrounded by welcoming faces. As she settles into her role, she forms a close friendship with Spencer, the director of the gaming channel. Despite frequent speculation from colleagues like Erin about their relationship, Y/N and Spencer insist they're just friends. However, as they collaborate closely and share personal moments, their bond deepens.

Word Count: 1.2k

“And this will be your desk. I’m so excited for you to start here, is there any questions? Did I go too fast on the tour?” Selina asks, her face shining with a friendly smile while looking at the new girl. “No, no, you did amazing. I don’t have any questions currently but I’m sure there will be later.” She says, a curious glint in her eye as she looks around.

“Okay, well, I am very excited to see how well you get along here. Remember, my office isn’t very far away.” Selina reminds her before walking off back to her office. The new girl at Smosh looks around in awe at the office around her, the pod she will be working in is currently empty so she has a moment to just soak everything in.

Sitting at the empty desk, she starts to pull some stuff out of her bag and arrange how she wants it all to look. Her moment of solitude is broken when she hears feet quickly approaching, “Courtney, do you happen to have-” A male voice says but stops when he notices that the blonde isn’t around.

She turns to look over her shoulder and feel her heartbeat pick up, “Oh, hi, um I’m not Courtney…and I don’t think I could help you…but hi.” She says awkwardly, smiling at him. “Uh…yeah, no, don’t worry about it. I’m Spencer. You must be the new girl.” He puts his hand out for her to shake. Their hands intertwine and it feels like a warm hug, “Yeah, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Spencer” Her hand moves up and down, shaking his before she pulls it away.

“Well, I don’t know how much you know about this place, but I’m the director of the gaming channel, so we might be working together sometime.” He says, of course she knew who he was but she didn’t wanna make him feel like he was bragging. She nodded with a small smile, “Yeah, that sounds super cool,”

Their conversation gets cut off when a female voice breaks through, “Ugh! Spencer! You met the new girl before we did!” A girl with short black hair whines, “Erin, I was just looking for Coutrney, who is right behind you, when I ran into her.” He crosses his arms as the shorter woman sighs, “Whatever, Spence.” She brushes past him and stands in front of Y/N.

“Hi, I’m Erin.” That was the start of her career at Smosh. It didn’t take long for Y/N to meet everyone at Smosh and was soon pulled into the whirlwind of being a reliable member of the team.

This was also the start of her friendship with Spencer. The two worked closely together a lot and spent a lot of hours brainstorming ways to make the gaming channel better. There were several late nights between the two of them with creative meetings and a lot of trips to different conferences that they were sent on.

The two had become very close friends, so close that many people at Smosh thought they were dating. They’d been called to HR a couple of times to sign some paperwork that was standard if co-workers dated but they always denied it, they were only friends.

“Erin, how many times do I have to tell you, Spencer and I are just friends!” Y/N stresses, not taking her eyes of her computer as the girl continues to annoy her. “You can’t keep lying to yourself! You two are meant to be and are just too scared to admit it.” Erin says, fully allowing herself to be the captain of the ship that is Y/N and Spencer.

She shouldn’t be surprised, Erin is a major One Direction fangirl and one of the main things of that is being a hardcore shipper of certain things, so really she should just be used to it at this point. “You can say that all you want, Erin. The fact is that Spencer has not told me he wants to be more than friends. If he ever tells me that, then we will cross that bridge when we get to it.” She explains, her E/C eyes moving off her screen for a second.

“So, you do have feelings for him!” Erin cheers, making the woman across from her roll her eyes. “I am not entertaining this any longer.” She says before getting out of her seat, “You will admit them one day!” Erin yells as she continues to walk away.

Entering the kitchen, she laughs to herself at Erin’s theories. The girl was always thinking of something to keep everyone on their toes, but it’s one of the reasons she’s Y/N’s best friend.

Grabbing a juice from the fridge, she walks over to look at the snacks when someone else walks in. “You’re idea for this week’s games shoot is awesome! I don’t know how I didn’t think it of it before.” Spencer says, walking over to Y/N. She smiles at him as she grabs a bag of pretzels, “Eh, I just scoured the comments the other night and saw a small pattern. It’s not something I would’ve suggested if I didn’t see the fans asking for it.”

He nods and grabs a Kickstart from the fridge before moving to stand next to her. “I heard people talking about Erin having some thoughts with you just a bit ago.” He says, vaguely bringing up what happened and it makes her sigh.

“You know how Erin is, she’s always up to something.” The two laugh before sitting in a comfortable silence for a moment. “What was she going on about this time? I thought we helped her figure out whatever was on her mind last time.” Spencer asks and Y/N feels her cheeks heat up.

“She, um, she was going on about how we secretly have feelings for each other and just need to let it all out.” She looks over at him confused when his breath hitches in his throat. “Everything okay, Spence?” She asks, her eyes becoming soft as she looks at him.

“Yeah, just shocked that Erin would think that.” His voice is shaky as he says it, “You’re lying, Spen. Come on, tell me what’s up.” She gently grabs his arm and he looks at her. “Maybe…maybe Erin’s right. I should just tell you how I feel.”

He walks to be in front of her as she looks at him with a raised brow, “I like you, Y/N. I have since basically the day I met you. You’re sweet, kind, super hardworking, and weirdly smart. You always make me laugh and I don’t think I’ve been able to be myself as much as I have with you.” He says, his hands on her arms.

“Are you serious?” She asks, shocked that he’s saying all this. “Yes, I know you probably don’t feel the same way, but I just wanted to-” He stops talking as she puts her lips against his. His hands are still on her arms before he moves them to her waist. “I like you too, I like you a lot, Spence.” She says when she pulls away.

Their eyes are locked as they rest their forehead against each other. “So, do you wanna go out tonight?” He asks, “I’d love to.” She answers before they kiss again. It doesn’t last long as someone walks in and they pull away.

“I knew it!” Erin yells, cheering before running out of the kitchen and screaming “Y/N and Spencer are kissing!” throughout the office.