Virgin Spencer Reid - Tumblr Posts

Bridges to Belonging

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Seven

Summary: (18+) Y/N and Spencer struggle finding time to see each other with their busy schedules, they do find time for Spencer to have a new experience

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: Angst, fluff, smut

Warnings/Includes: angst, talks of virginity, self doubt, relationship issues, smut (18+) more warnings under the cut

Word count: 14.3k

a/n: this is so long! and maybe bad!! i have never written smut before i'm so sorry for this, if anyone would like to volunteer to help me or be my smut writer from here on out dear god i'll take it!!!!

main masterlist

Additional warnings: hand job, oral sex (male receiving), nipple play, breast play, slight dirty talk

On Monday morning, the atmosphere in the BAU briefing room was charged with the usual pre-mission tension as the team gathered around the round table. Files and coffee cups were scattered about, each team member reviewing last-minute details before they set out. Hotch, standing at the head of the table, concluded the briefing with his customary, "Wheels up in 30."

As the team began to disperse, Morgan leaned over to Spencer with a mischievous grin. "So, Pretty Boy, don't think you're getting off easy this morning. We need the scoop on your big date," he said, loud enough for others to overhear.

Spencer's face instantly turned a deep shade of red, a bashful smile creeping onto his lips. Emily and JJ, overhearing Morgan, quickly joined in, pulling their chairs a bit closer to Spencer.

"Come on, Spence, you've got to give us something. We've been on the edge of our seats all weekend!" JJ teased, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"Yeah, don't hold out on us, Reid," Emily chimed in, "Was it romantic? Tell us everything!"

Even Rossi, usually more reserved, looked on with a raised eyebrow, clearly interested in hearing details of Spencer's foray into romance.

Spencer glanced around the table at his eager teammates, their faces a mix of amusement and genuine interest. Taking a deep breath, he began to share, his voice soft but filled with happiness. "Well, we went to the Met, and then to this great little restaurant that we went to after that one case. It was... really nice."

"Nice? That's all you've got?" Morgan laughed, prodding him further. "Come on, man, did you make out? Did you go up to her place? Give us the good stuff!"

Spencer let out a nervous and surprised laugh, a bit more relaxed now, encouraged by the friendly banter. "We laughed a lot. And, well, we did end up walking back to her place together. It was a good night."

"And?" Emily prodded, not satisfied with the basics.

"And," Spencer continued, a shy but unmistakably happy smile spreading across his face, "she kissed me on the cheek when we said goodnight."

The table erupted in cheers and claps, with Penelope Garcia, who had just walked in on the conversation, squealing in delight. "Oh my gosh, that is so cute! Spencer, that’s wonderful!"

Hotch, who had been packing up his files, looked over with a small, approving smile. "It sounds like you had a successful evening, Reid. I'm glad."

Spencer nodded, feeling a rush of warmth from the support and excitement of his team. "Thanks, everyone. I, uh, I really like her. We're planning to see each other again soon."

"Well, you've got the BAU's official seal of approval," Rossi said, giving Spencer a friendly nod. 

—

Late one evening, while away on a case, Spencer found himself lying on his hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. The hum of the air conditioner and the occasional siren outside couldn't drown out the thoughts of Y/N swirling in his mind. Finally giving in to the urge, he picked up his phone and dialed her number, his heart racing slightly as he waited for her to answer.

"Hey, Spencer!" Y/N's voice came through, bright and cheerful, immediately easing some of the tension he felt from the case.

"Hey, Y/N," Spencer breathed out, trying to sound casual. "I, uh, I realized I forgot to ask you something important the other day."

"Oh?" Y/N's voice was laced with amusement, clearly sensing there was more to his call. "And what could that possibly be at this hour?"

Spencer chuckled softly, feeling a bit more relaxed. "Well, I was thinking about our next date, and I realized we never decided what episodes of Doctor Who we're going to watch. You know, it's crucial planning."

Y/N laughed, the sound making Spencer smile. "Absolutely crucial, Dr. Reid. We wouldn't want to mess up our Doctor Who marathon with poor episode choices. That would be tragic."

As their conversation eased from light-hearted banter about Doctor Who into more substantial topics, Y/N and Spencer found themselves delving into the realities of their day-to-day professional lives. Y/N described a particularly challenging situation at work. Her role required not only expertise in psychology but also a deep well of patience and creativity to reach children who were often surrounded by walls of mistrust.

"I had to think outside the box today," Y/N explained, her tone reflective. "It's tough when you can see the potential for breakthrough, but every approach you take just doesn't seem to click at first."

Spencer listened intently, nodding even though she couldn't see him. "I can imagine that's incredibly challenging. But if anyone can find a way, it's you," he encouraged, genuinely impressed by her dedication and innovative methods.

"Yeah, thanks, Spencer. It means a lot to hear that," Y/N replied, her voice softening with appreciation.

Switching the focus to Spencer, Y/N asked about his current assignment. Spencer was naturally more guarded, knowing the often grim details of his cases could be distressing. He chose to describe the broader strokes of the behavioral analysis involved rather than the specifics.

"We're working on identifying patterns in a series of incidents across state lines," Spencer began, his tone clinical but careful. "It involves a lot of data synthesis and predictive modeling, trying to anticipate the unsub's next move without much to go on."

"That sounds intense," Y/N remarked, her curiosity piqued by the intellectual challenge of his job, despite the darker undertones. "How do you manage the stress that comes with that kind of responsibility?"

Spencer gave a small laugh, a hint of self-deprecation in his voice. "Lots of coffee and not enough sleep, mostly. But really, it's about compartmentalizing and focusing on the fact that every step we take is towards preventing further harm."

Y/N nodded, understanding the weight of such a role. "It's incredible what you do, Spencer. Really. It's like every day, you're part of a team that saves lives."

The conversation then veered back to lighter topics, but the depth of their exchange added layers to their understanding of each other. This mutual glimpse into their professional lives not only deepened their respect for one another but also highlighted the parallels in their dedication to helping others, albeit in very different contexts. 

"So, the team's been giving you a hard time, huh?" Y/N asked, her tone turning playful again.

"You have no idea," Spencer sighed dramatically. "Morgan hasn't stopped teasing me since I got back from our date. And Penelope—she showed up at my door Sunday evening with dinner and dessert, wanting to hear all about our night."

"Really?" Y/N giggled. "She did the same to me! I guess she couldn't wait to get all the gossip from both sides."

"It was a full-on interrogation," Spencer joked. "But, honestly, it's nice to see them so happy for us."

"Yeah, it is," Y/N agreed, her voice softening. "They sound like a great team."

"They really are," Spencer confirmed. They spent another moment discussing potential ideas for their next date, bouncing thoughts off each other with an ease that felt both exhilarating and deeply comforting.

As their conversation wound down, neither Spencer nor Y/N seemed eager to hang up. They lingered on the line, sharing a comfortable silence that spoke volumes of their growing connection.

"Spencer, I... I'm really glad you called," Y/N finally said, her voice a whisper as if she were confiding a secret.

"Me too, Y/N. I suppose I sort of… miss you," Spencer admitted, his voice equally hushed, the words feeling both scary and right.

"Me too," she whispered back, her voice warm with affection.

Eventually, they said their goodnights, but only after making tentative plans for when Spencer returned. Hanging up, Spencer lay back on his bed, a content smile on his face. He felt like a giddy teenager with his first crush. He only wished Y/N was here, laying in the bed next to him. 

—

Back home from the case, Spencer's apartment felt unusually tidy and welcoming as he gave it one last sweep before Y/N's arrival. The anticipation had him checking the clock every few minutes, a nervous energy propelling him from one room to another as he made sure everything was perfect for their Doctor Who marathon night. He had spent the earlier part of the day decorating subtly with Doctor Who memorabilia, including a makeshift TARDIS door cover that added a playful touch to his usually unadorned apartment. 

On the coffee table, Spencer arranged an assortment of snacks, paying special attention to include all of Y/N's favorites that Hotch had discreetly passed on to him. There were bags of gourmet popcorn, several types of chocolate, and even some healthier options like fruit and nuts, all set beside two large bowls.

In the kitchen, the smell of homemade meat pies filled the air—an attempt by Spencer to bring a bit of British flair to their evening. He hoped the gesture would be met with a smile, considering Y/N's affection for all things authentically connected to their shared favorite show.

The setup for the marathon was equally thought-out. The living room was rearranged to ensure maximum comfort. Cushions and blankets were piled on the sofa, creating a cozy nest. The TV was set with the Doctor Who episodes they had agreed on, including a mix of both their favorites and a few Y/N mentioned she had never seen before, promising fresh enjoyment and reactions for Spencer to witness.

As the time neared for Y/N to arrive, Spencer's excitement was tempered with nerves. He wanted the night to be perfect, to be a step forward in their blossoming relationship. He went over his mental checklist again—snacks, ambiance, dinner, entertainment—all checked off. Yet, the butterflies in his stomach wouldn't settle.

Finally, a soft knock on the door jolted him from his reverie. His heart skipped a beat as he walked to the door, smoothing down his shirt unconsciously. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he opened the door with a hopeful smile.

Y/N stood there, her presence instantly brightening the doorway. Her smile was wide, and she held up a bag of additional treats, playfully suggesting they might not have enough snacks—a light jest to ease into the evening.

"Hey, Spencer," she greeted warmly, stepping inside and looking around with an appreciative eye. "Wow, you really went all out, didn’t you? It looks amazing!"

Spencer's nervousness faded slightly under her genuine enthusiasm. "I'm glad you like it," he replied, feeling a bit more confident. "I wanted it to be a special night for us."

As they settled in, the initial awkwardness melted away. They shared laughs over the themed setup, teased each other about episode preferences, and soon enough, the marathon was underway. 

As the marathon progressed, the room filled with the familiar sounds of Doctor Who's opening credits and the occasional laughter from Spencer and Y/N. The atmosphere was relaxed and cheerful, a perfect blend of comfort and excitement as they dove into the adventures of their favorite Time Lord.

During one of the episodes, Y/N leaned forward to grab a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table. Spencer saw this as his moment to make a smooth, albeit slightly clichéd move he had seen in a movie once. As Y/N reached for the popcorn, he casually stretched his arm and draped it over the back of the couch, right behind where Y/N had been sitting.

When Y/N settled back against the couch, she was momentarily surprised to find Spencer's arm behind her. A slight blush colored her cheeks as she turned to look at him, noticing his somewhat sheepish but hopeful smile. In that instant, any surprise she felt melted away into a warm sense of affection. With a small, encouraging smile of her own, she scooted closer to him, tilting her body to lean into his side.

Spencer's heart raced with the thrill of the moment, but as Y/N nestled into him, he felt a wave of calm wash over him. He adjusted his arm to wrap it more comfortably around her shoulders, allowing her to snuggle closer. The couch, already a cozy setup, now felt like a small haven as they both relaxed into the new position.

With Y/N leaning into his side, Spencer felt a profound sense of contentment. He could smell the faint scent of her shampoo, and the warmth of her body against his was reassuringly tangible. Every so often, Y/N would make a comment about the episode, or point out a funny inconsistency, and they would share a quiet laugh, their bodies shaking together slightly with each chuckle.

As the episodes rolled on, their initial single-arm arrangement naturally evolved into full-on cuddling. Y/N's head eventually found its way to Spencer's shoulder, and one of his hands rested lightly on her arm, fingers occasionally brushing hers. Every touch, though light and casual, sent sparks of delight through Spencer, reinforcing how right it felt to have her so close.

As the soft glow of the TV illuminated their faces, Y/N shifted slightly, her hand finding its way to Spencer’s thigh. The light touch sent a shiver through Spencer, stirring a mix of emotions and igniting a cascade of thoughts.

Internally, Spencer wrestled with the intensity of the sensation. Being a virgin, moments of physical intimacy like this were uncharted territory, laden with excitement but also a nervous apprehension. He cherished the warmth and closeness of Y/N beside him, yet part of him couldn’t help but feel a surge of anxiety about the physical expectations that might lie ahead.

His heart raced, not just from the thrill of her touch but also from the conflict within him—between his yearning for intimacy and the fear of his inexperience being a letdown. Spencer's mind buzzed with thoughts. He loved how natural it felt to have Y/N so close, how right it seemed to share this space and moment with her. Her hand on his thigh was comforting yet electrifying, a symbol of her desire and acceptance of him.

Despite his fears, Spencer realized that Y/N’s affectionate gesture was not just about physical desire; it was a reaffirmation of the emotional connection they shared. It was her way of showing trust and comfort in his presence. This realization helped ease some of his internal turmoil. He wanted to embrace this moment fully, to let go of the self-imposed barriers that his lack of experience had built around him.

Spencer's mind raced, and his body tensed almost imperceptibly under the weight of his thoughts. Y/N, sensitive to the subtle shift in his demeanor, felt the change in tension. Concern etched her features as she gently withdrew her hand from his thigh.

"Spencer, are you okay?" she asked softly, her voice filled with worry. She moved slightly to face him better, her expression open and concerned.

Spencer blinked, brought back to the moment by her question. He saw the worry in her eyes and immediately felt a pang of guilt for causing her any distress. "Oh, Y/N, yes, I’m okay," he quickly reassured her, managing a small smile. "I'm sorry, I just got a little stuck in my head. You didn’t do anything wrong."

Seeing her still looking apologetic, Spencer paused the show, turning to face her fully. The seriousness in his actions caught her attention, and she mirrored his position, giving him her full attention.

"There’s something I need to tell you," Spencer began, his voice tinged with a vulnerability that he seldom showed. He took a deep breath, searching Y/N’s eyes for the understanding he knew he would find. "I’m a virgin," he confessed, the words hanging between them in the quiet space of the room.

He rushed to explain, not just to clarify but also to unburden his heart. "It’s not for lack of trying or wanting. It’s just... I was always younger than everyone else in my grade, and, well, I was nerdy and got bullied quite a bit. So, it never happened for me." His voice was a mix of nervousness and embarrassment, his gaze dropping briefly before returning to Y/N’s.

Y/N listened intently, her heart swelling with empathy for Spencer. She reached out, taking one of his hands in hers, squeezing it reassuringly. "Spencer," she said gently, her voice warm and devoid of any judgment, "thank you for telling me. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been to say. I want you to know that it doesn’t change how I feel about you. I really like you, and nothing about this changes that."

Spencer looked at her, relief washing over him at her words. Her acceptance and understanding were palpable, and it helped ease the embarrassment that had coiled tight in his chest.

"Thank you, Y/N," he replied, his voice soft but filled with immense gratitude. "I just didn’t want to lead you to expect something I might not be ready for."

Y/N nodded, her smile kind. "We’ll go at whatever pace you’re comfortable with, Spencer. There’s no rush. I’m here with you, and that’s all that matters."

With the air cleared and their connection deepened by the honest exchange, Spencer resumed the show. But the night had shifted; there was a new closeness between them, a deeper bond forged by vulnerability and acceptance. 

Y/N, still holding Spencer's hand, glanced over at him, a curious expression on her face. "Can I ask you something else, Spencer?" she ventured, her tone gentle to keep the space between them safe and open.

"Of course," Spencer replied, turning to meet her gaze, appreciative of her sensitive approach.

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" Y/N asked, her curiosity piqued but her voice steady, showing that it was just another facet of getting to know him better.

Spencer paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before answering. "Yes," he admitted, his voice a little tentative. "One person, and only once."

Y/N nodded, taking in his response without judgment, her expression softening. "Thank you for telling me," she said, squeezing his hand a little tighter in a gesture of support. "I really appreciate your honesty, Spencer. It means a lot that you’re comfortable sharing these things with me."

Spencer smiled, a genuine warmth spreading through him at her understanding and acceptance. "Thank you, Y/N, for being so understanding. It’s not always easy to talk about these things, but I’m glad I can with you."

After a moment of comfortable silence, filled with the sounds of Doctor Who playing in the background, Y/N leaned over and gently kissed Spencer’s cheek. The gesture, simple yet intimate, seemed to seal the new level of trust and openness between them. She settled back into the crook of his arm, resuming their cuddling position as they turned their attention back to the screen.

As they watched, Spencer’s mind churned with thoughts. The warmth from Y/N’s kiss lingered on his cheek, a tangible reminder of their growing closeness. Despite the comfort and ease between them, a question nagged at him, fueled by his own admissions and the openness they had just shared. Gathering his courage, he decided it was his turn to understand more about Y/N.

“Y/N,” Spencer began, his voice a little hesitant as he again paused the show, turning to look at her with a mix of curiosity and slight apprehension. “Can I ask you about your experiences?”

Y/N looked at him, sensing the importance of his question and the vulnerability it took for him to ask. She nodded, a gentle encouragement for him to continue.

"Have you ever had sex?" Spencer asked cautiously, his eyes carefully gauging her reaction to ensure he wasn't crossing any lines.

"Yes, Spencer, I have. But that does not mean I expect anything from you," Y/N responded gently, her voice reassuring.

"Oh, okay. Thank you," Spencer replied, a sense of relief washing over him, yet curiosity nudged him to probe a little further. "Um, have you done everything? Like oral sex?" he inquired, his voice wavering slightly with the discomfort of the unknown but eager to understand her better.

"Yeah. In fact… I quite like it. Giving and receiving," Y/N said flirtatiously, her straightforwardness aimed at keeping the air between them clear and honest, but also slightly teasing.

"OH. Oh my God, okay. Okay. Let’s get back to the show," Spencer stammered, a flush creeping up his cheeks as he quickly reached for the remote, eager to shift their focus back to the safety of the television screen. His mind buzzed with the new information, appreciating her candor but also overwhelmed by the implications of their conversation.

As the awkward tension began to dissipate, Y/N offered a reassuring smile and gently teased, "Okay, big guy. We can get back to the show. But I want you to know you can always talk to me about anything."

"Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate you," Spencer responded, his voice tinged with a mix of gratitude and lingering nerves. Her openness and reassurance made him feel valued and safe, a rare and cherished feeling.

Y/N, noticing Spencer's still heightened state, decided to lighten the mood further. "Spence… you seem kind of worked up right now, are you okay?" she asked playfully, her tone light.

"Mhm… yup, yeah, totally, super good," Spencer replied, his response a bit too quick and a touch too emphatic, betraying his still-rattled nerves.

"Yeah? You like it when I call you Spence?" Y/N probed further, a soft chuckle accompanying her words as she picked up on his slight disarray.

"I do, yeah," Spencer admitted, his voice softer now. "It’s intimate."

"Okay, Spence," Y/N said with a warm smile, shifting slightly to bring her hand back to his thigh, reinstating the comfortable intimacy that had momentarily been clouded by nervous energy.

The simple touch and the use of his nickname in such a tender manner helped ground Spencer. He felt a wave of affection for Y/N, appreciating how she navigated their conversation with sensitivity and humor. The return of her hand to his thigh, a gesture now familiar and comforting, reaffirmed her comfort and acceptance of him, no matter the topic of conversation.

As they settled back into their viewing positions, Spencer felt more at ease than before, the previous tension melting into a warm connection. Their shared laughter and light-hearted banter resumed, filling the room with a sense of closeness that promised only to deepen with time.

The final credits of the last Doctor Who episode rolled across the screen, neither Spencer nor Y/N made a move to get up. The comfortable silence between them spoke volumes; neither wanted the night to end. However, as the late hour ticked by, the inevitable conclusion of their perfect evening approached.

Spencer felt a mix of emotions swirling within him. Part of him yearned to extend the invitation for her to stay, to not let the night end, but he knew he wasn't ready to take such a significant step. His heart raced at the mere thought of having someone stay over, especially someone as special as Y/N. The anxiety of such intimacy so soon was palpable in his tense posture and distracted glances.

Y/N, ever observant and sensitive to Spencer’s moods, noticed his discomfort. Recognizing his internal struggle, she decided to ease the situation with the warmth and understanding she had shown all evening. She leaned closer, closing the small distance between them on the couch, and caught his gaze with her soft, empathetic eyes.

"Spencer," she whispered, her voice a soothing balm to his frazzled nerves. Without another word, she leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. It was a tender, affirming kiss, one that spoke of her deep respect for his boundaries and her care for his feelings.

The kiss was a first for them both in this budding relationship, and it was electric, sending a warm flush through Spencer’s body. It was a perfect end to their date, sealing their evening with a promise of affection and mutual respect.

As they slowly pulled apart, Spencer looked at Y/N, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and profound gratitude. "Thank you," he managed to say, his voice low and full of emotion. "For understanding and, um, and for kissing me."

Y/N giggled and smiled, her hand reaching up to gently touch his cheek. "Of course, Spencer, it was my pleasure. I really like you, and I’m more than happy to take things at a pace that feels right for both of us."

With the night winding down, they both stood and tidied up the living room, lingering over small tasks, neither wanting to rush their goodbyes. Finally, at the door, they shared another long, warm hug.

"I had a wonderful time tonight, Spencer," Y/N said.

"Me too, Y/N. Let’s do this again soon," Spencer replied, his smile genuine and hopeful.

With a final wave, Y/N stepped out into the cool night, leaving Spencer by his doorway, his heart full and his mind already anticipating their next meeting. 

Spencer, still riding the high from their evening together, wandered into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, his thoughts replaying the perfect moments of their date. The soft sound of a knock at his door pulled him from his reverie. Puzzled, since it was quite late, he walked back to the door, adjusting his glasses as he went.

He opened the door, and there stood Y/N, her expression a mix of determination and a hint of playfulness. Before Spencer could form a question, Y/N spoke up, her voice soft yet urgent.

"I forgot something," she said quickly, and without waiting for his response, she leaned in and kissed him. This kiss was deeper and more intense than the last, filled with an emotion that had been simmering beneath their earlier interactions. 

Y/N wrapped her arms around Spencer’s neck to keep them connected, and Spencer reciprocated by putting his hands on her face. He kissed her like he was hungry for affection, pulling a soft gasp from her lips. This was the best kiss Y/N has ever had, never has she felt more desired. 

When Y/N started to slip her tongue out to play along Spencer’s bottom lip, he let out a gentle whimper. Embarrassed and brought back to reality, Spencer slowly pulled back.

As they finally parted, Spencer was left momentarily breathless, his heart racing from the unexpected intensity of their connection. Y/N looked into his eyes, a gentle smile playing on her lips, as if to reassure him of the depth of her feelings.

"Goodnight, Spencer," she whispered, pressing her pointer finger to his lips before stepping back with a lingering touch that felt like a promise.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Spencer managed to say, his voice a whisper of awe and affection. He watched her walk away, the sway of her hips enticing him, and the warmth of her kiss still lingering on his lips.

As Spencer closed the door and leaned against it, he felt a surge of emotions overwhelming his initial shock. The spontaneity and passion of Y/N's return had left him stunned, she wanted him. She really did want him, enough to turn around and come back for another taste. He touched his lips, smiling to himself in the quiet of his apartment, deeply moved and eager for their next encounter.

—

Over the course of several months, Spencer and Y/N found themselves woven into a pattern of sporadic yet deeply cherished dates. Each meeting was filled with laughter, shared secrets, and the kind of comfort that only comes with genuine connection. As the weeks turned into months, their feelings deepened—a testament to the quality of the moments they spent together, even if those moments were fewer than either of them would prefer.

Despite their growing affection, both Spencer and Y/N were grappling with the demands of their intense careers. Spencer, with his unpredictable hours at the BAU, often found himself called away at a moment's notice, leaving plans hanging in uncertainty. Y/N faced similar challenges, her responsibilities as a child psychologist not only demanding but emotionally taxing, often leaving her drained and in need of solitude to recharge.

Each date they managed to squeeze into their hectic schedules felt like a small victory against the relentless pace of their professional lives. However, as much as they cherished these snippets of time together, a silent acknowledgment began to grow between them—an unspoken question about the feasibility of nurturing a deeper relationship under such strained circumstances.

Internally, Spencer felt a growing turmoil. He cherished Y/N deeply and found himself increasingly looking forward to their every interaction. Yet, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling of inadequacy in not being able to give her more of his time. His mind often wandered during briefings and on flights to cases, pondering whether he was fair to her, holding her back from someone who could offer her the attention and presence he struggled to maintain.

Y/N, on her side, battled similar doubts. She adored Spencer's kindness, his intellect, and the gentle way he made her feel seen and understood like no one else had. Yet, after each date, as she returned to her quiet apartment, the joy of their time together was tinged with a pang of loneliness. The irregularity of their meetings made her question whether they were building something sustainable or if the sporadic nature of their interactions would eventually lead to an emotional disconnect.

Despite these concerns, neither Spencer nor Y/N had broached the subject with the other, each wary of casting a shadow over the precious moments they did share. Their communication, while open and warm, skirted around these deeper insecurities and fears. It was as if by unspoken mutual agreement, they chose to savor the present, leaving the uncertain future to unfold in its own time.

One afternoon, feeling the weight of her thoughts, Y/N decided to confide in Penelope, who had quickly become her best friend who she trusted deeply. They met at a cozy cafe, a place away from the prying eyes and ears of the office, where Y/N felt she could speak freely.

As they settled into the quiet corner with their coffee, Y/N's expression was pensive, her usual brightness tempered by the thoughts swirling in her mind. Penelope noticed her friend's unusual demeanor and reached across the table, offering a reassuring squeeze of her hand.

"What’s on your mind, hon?" Penelope asked, her voice soft with concern.

Y/N took a deep breath, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup. "It’s about Spencer," she began, hesitating as she searched for the right words. "I really like him, Penelope. I mean, really like him. But I’m struggling with how sporadic everything feels. We see each other when we can, but it’s never enough, and I'm starting to wonder if it ever will be."

Penelope listened intently, her gaze sympathetic. "That sounds really tough," she replied, her voice gentle. "It’s hard when the heart wants what the clock doesn’t allow."

Y/N nodded, a sad smile touching her lips. "Exactly. And I keep wondering if I’m being fair to him—or to myself—by continuing this way. I love our time together, but the gaps in between just leave me feeling more alone. It’s like we’re in this constant loop of hellos and goodbyes, and it’s wearing on me."

Penelope considered her words carefully, understanding the delicacy of the situation. "Have you talked to Spencer about this?" she inquired, knowing that communication could either bridge their gap or confirm her fears.

"Not really," Y/N admitted, looking down. "I’m afraid to. What if bringing it up pushes him away? Or what if he feels the same way, and it leads to... ending things? I don’t know if I’m ready to hear that."

"Y/N, I know it’s scary, but sometimes, laying your cards on the table is the only way to know if you’re playing the same game," Penelope advised, her tone both encouraging and realistic. "Spencer cares about you. Maybe he’s having the same thoughts. Talking about it could bring you closer, or it might give you the clarity you need. Either way, you owe it to yourself to find out."

Y/N absorbed her words, the truth in them resonant and clear. "You’re right, Penelope. I need to talk to him. No matter the outcome, it’s better than just wondering what if."

—

Later that same week, Spencer found himself grappling with his own mix of emotions and uncertainties about his relationship with Y/N. He knew he needed to talk to someone who could offer a fresh perspective, someone who understood the demands of their work and the impact it could have on personal life. Naturally, he turned to Derek Morgan, his colleague and friend, whose advice he had always valued.

They decided to step out for a quick bite, a way to get away from the office and talk openly. As they walked to a nearby diner, Spencer felt the weight of his thoughts like a physical burden.

Once they were seated in a quiet booth at the back of the diner, away from the lunchtime rush, Derek took the lead. "Alright, kid, you look like you’ve got the world on your shoulders. Talk to me," he said, his tone both commanding and comforting.

Spencer sighed, stirring his coffee absentmindedly before looking up at Derek. "It’s about Y/N," he started, his voice tense with hesitation. "I really like her, Derek. More than I’ve liked anyone in a long time. But our schedules... it’s tough. We barely see each other, and when we do, it’s like we’re just stealing moments between cases."

Derek nodded, understanding the difficulty. "I get it, man. It’s hard to build something real when you’re always on the clock. But how does she feel about it? You guys talk about this?"

"That’s just it. We haven’t, really," Spencer admitted, his expression troubled. "I’m worried about what it might mean if we do. What if she’s just as frustrated as I am? What if she wants more than I can give her?"

Derek leaned back, his gaze thoughtful. "Spencer, you can’t let fear of the 'what ifs' stop you from pursuing something good. Maybe she’s feeling the same way, maybe she’s not. But you won’t know until you talk about it. And hey, maybe it’ll help you both figure out a way to make it work."

Spencer absorbed Derek’s words, finding some comfort in his straightforward advice. "You think we can find a balance?" he asked, a hint of hope threading through his voice.

"If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that where there’s a will, there’s a way," Derek responded with a confident smile. "You and Y/N seem to have something special. Don’t give up on it without a fight. Talk to her, man. Open up about your feelings. It’s the only way you’ll both know if you can find a path forward together."

Reassured by Derek’s supportive words, Spencer felt a little lighter as they left the diner. He knew what he needed to do now—have an honest conversation with Y/N. With Derek’s encouragement echoing in his mind, he was ready to face whatever that conversation might bring, knowing that clarity was crucial for both their hearts and their future.

After his conversation with Derek, Spencer felt a newfound resolve to address the uncertainties hovering over his relationship with Y/N. He knew it was time to have a candid discussion about their feelings and the logistical challenges they faced due to their demanding jobs. He wanted to ensure they were on the same page, whether that led to finding solutions or making difficult decisions.

Late one evening, after a long day at the BAU, Spencer found himself alone in his quiet apartment. The weight of the impending conversation pressed heavily on him, but Derek's advice bolstered his courage. He picked up his phone, his fingers hovering over Y/N's contact. Taking a deep breath, he dialed her number, listening to the ringtone with a mix of anxiety and anticipation.

"Hey, babe," Y/N answered, her voice a comforting sound in the silence of his apartment.

"Hey, Y/N," Spencer replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "Um, are you free tonight? I was hoping we could talk about something important. Could you come over?"

There was a brief pause on the line, and Spencer could almost picture Y/N's thoughtful expression. "Of course, Spencer. I can be there in about an hour. Is everything okay?" her voice tinged with concern.

"Yeah, everything's fine," Spencer reassured her quickly, not wanting to alarm her prematurely. "It's just something we need to discuss, and I think it's better to do it in person. I'll explain when you get here."

"Okay, I'll see you soon," Y/N replied, her tone now laced with an obvious concern.

"Thanks, Y/N. I'll see you soon," Spencer said, ending the call.

After hanging up, Spencer paced his apartment, trying to organize his thoughts and prepare for the conversation. He set up his living room to be as inviting and comfortable as possible, dimming the lights slightly and arranging the couch with extra cushions. He wanted to create a warm, open environment to foster a sincere and heartfelt discussion.

As he waited for Y/N to arrive, Spencer rehearsed what he wanted to say, reminding himself of the importance of honesty and openness. He acknowledged his feelings for her and his desire to make their relationship work, despite the challenges. His heart felt heavy with the weight of the conversation ahead, but he was also relieved to be taking proactive steps to address the situation.

When he heard a knock at the door, Spencer's heart started beating faster. He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and opened the door to find Y/N standing there, a look of gentle concern in her eyes.

"Hey," he greeted her, managing a small smile as he stepped aside to let her in.

"Hey," Y/N replied, stepping into the apartment and looking around, sensing the seriousness of the moment.

As they settled onto the couch, the air charged with a palpable tension, Spencer knew it was time to open up about his concerns and hopes for their future together. The conversation that would follow would undoubtedly shape the trajectory of their relationship, for better or worse.

Once they were both seated, the warmth of the room contrasting with the nervous chill between them, Spencer took a deep breath and met Y/N's gaze. He needed her to understand everything—his fears, his hopes, and how much he valued their time together.

"Y/N, I've been doing a lot of thinking," Spencer began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "About us, about how much I look forward to our time together, and how hard it is when we're apart because of our jobs."

Y/N listened intently, her eyes locked on his, a sense of dread building as she braced for what she feared might be coming.

"I value every moment we spend together," Spencer continued, his confidence growing with each word, thanks to their months of building trust and connection. "But I know it's been hard. The time apart, the cancellations... I hate that it's like this."

As he spoke, Y/N's eyes filled with tears, her heart tightening. She misinterpreted his preamble as a gentle lead-in to a breakup. "Spencer, are you... are you breaking up with me?" she asked, her voice breaking, unable to contain her fear and sadness.

Spencer's eyes widened in surprise, immediately realizing the misunderstanding. "No, no, Y/N, that’s not what I want," he hurried to clarify, reaching for her hands. "I’m trying to say that I want to make this work, despite the challenges. I love you, Y/N. I love you, and I want us to find a way to make our schedules work because you mean so much to me."

Hearing the words "I love you" not only surprised Y/N but also washed away her fears. She squeezed his hands back, the tears now flowing from relief and joy. "I love you too, Spencer. I’ve been so scared of losing what we have. I want to make it work, too. I don't want to give up on us."

As the tension dissipated, Spencer and Y/N, now nestled into the comfortable couch, delved into thoughtful conversation about how to align their lives more harmoniously.

Spencer started, his tone hopeful, "What if we sync our calendars more closely? We could see when each other is free and plan ahead more effectively."

Y/N nodded, her mind whirling with ideas. "Yes, and maybe we could set some boundaries at work. I know it's not always possible, but we could at least try to keep certain nights or weekends clear for us," she suggested, her voice filled with determination.

"I like that," Spencer replied, a smile breaking across his face. "And when we do have time together, we should make it really count. Quality over quantity, right? Maybe some unplanned adventures or just quiet nights in, like this."

Y/N laughed, squeezing his hand. "I'm all for adventures, but nights like these are perfect, too. It’s about the connection, not just the activity."

As they continued to talk, each proposal seemed to weave them tighter together, their plans forming a tapestry of commitment and mutual support. The conversation flowed naturally into laughter and lighter topics, their earlier fears now just a memory.

Lying curled up together, Y/N looked up at Spencer, her eyes gleaming with affection. "Saying ‘I love you’ tonight... it really changed things, didn't it?" she murmured, her voice soft but clear in the quiet room.

"It did," Spencer agreed, his arm tightening around her. "It feels like we’re really in this together now, no matter what comes our way."

Y/N rested her head against his shoulder, feeling content and secure. "Together," she echoed, a promise in her whisper. 

As they settled into a comfortable silence, a thought suddenly struck Spencer—a crucial question he realized he had never formally asked. Despite the deep connection and commitment they had just affirmed, he felt a traditional step was missing, one that might solidify their relationship even further. Given his analytical nature and sometimes overly formal approach to social interactions, this oversight nagged at him.

"Y/N," Spencer began, shifting slightly to face her more directly. His heart was racing, not just from the gravity of the conversation they'd had but also from the anticipation of broaching a new, important topic. "I just realized, with everything we've talked about and planned... I never actually asked you something very important."

Y/N looked at him with a mix of curiosity and a gentle smile, sensing his sudden seriousness. "What’s that, Spencer?" she asked, her voice soothing, trying to ease his apparent nerves.

Spencer took a deep breath, his hands slightly clammy as he formulated his question. "Would you be my girlfriend?" he asked, the words feeling somewhat formal yet charged with emotion. "I mean, officially. I know we’ve been seeing each other and all, and I just... I want to make sure we're on the same page and that you know how serious I am about us."

Y/N's heart melted at his earnestness and the slightly awkward yet utterly sincere way he posed the question. A broad, affectionate smile spread across her face, and she reached out to hold his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Spencer, I thought you'd never ask," she teased gently, then grew more serious. "Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend."

Spencer's relief was palpable, and a warm laugh escaped him, echoing around the quiet room. "Okay, good. I just wanted to be sure. I sometimes get caught up in the details," he admitted, his smile reflective of the deep joy he felt.

"Getting caught up in the details is part of what I love about you," Y/N replied, her voice tender. She leaned in, kissing him softly, a seal on their newly defined relationship.

—

Y/N found herself struggling with a mix of emotions and uncertainties about her relationship with Spencer. She decided to seek advice from Penelope Garcia, who had become a trusted confidante. They got together at Y/N’s apartment, the privacy allowed Y/N to feel comfortable discussing private matters.

After making them coffee, Y/N hesitated, her expression serious. “Penelope, I need to talk to you about something… and it has to stay between us. Especially, you can’t tell Morgan,” she started, emphasizing the need for discretion.

Penelope nodded, her expression turning solemn. “Of course, Y/N. You can trust me.”

Y/N took a deep breath, then continued, “It’s about Spencer… We made things official, and everything is really great, but there’s something that hasn’t happened yet. We haven’t... you know, had sex. In any capacity. We’ve only made out a few times, and not even in overly… fun positions. I’m starting to worry that maybe he’s not interested in that with me.”

Penelope listened intently, her face a mask of understanding. “Okay, hun, I see. But, knowing Spencer, it might not be about a lack of interest. He might just be nervous or unsure about how to proceed. He’s, well, you know, kind of new at this. Honestly, he might not even know you want to, he doesn’t pick up on social cues very well.”

Y/N nodded, her expression a mix of relief and frustration. “I get that, and I don’t want to pressure him at all. But it’s also hard for me. I have needs too, and it’s becoming a bit frustrating. What should I do? How do I bring this up without making him feel pressured or embarrassed?”

Penelope thought for a moment before responding. “Maybe you could find a way to talk about it indirectly at first. Like, ask him what his thoughts are about relationships in general, about intimacy. See if you can get a sense of where he stands and what he’s comfortable with. Then, depending on his responses, you might find a gentle way to express your feelings and needs,” Penelope suggested thoughtfully. “Make it about both of you, about what you both want and need from the relationship, not just about the sex.”

Y/N considered Penelope’s advice, finding comfort in the logical approach. “That makes sense. I’ll try talking to him in a broad sense first. Thank you, Penelope. I just needed to talk this through with someone instead of running it around in my head over and over.”

Penelope smiled warmly. “Anytime, Y/N. And remember, it’s okay to have these conversations. They’re important. Just be honest and gentle, and I’m sure you’ll both figure out a way forward together.”

—

Y/N decided it was time to broach the subject that had been weighing on her mind. She invited Spencer over, planning a quiet and comfortable setting to have their conversation. As they settled onto the couch with cups of coffee, Y/N took a deep breath and gently steered the conversation towards more intimate aspects of relationships.

"Spencer, I've been thinking about us, about how close we've become," Y/N started, her voice soft but clear. "And I wonder if we might talk about our feelings regarding... intimacy. I feel it’s something we haven’t really discussed."

Spencer listened intently, his expression one of attentive concern. "You're right, we haven't really talked about that," he admitted, a slight nervousness in his voice.

Y/N, sensing his discomfort, chose her words carefully. "I want you to know that I care about you deeply, and part of being in a relationship is sharing those intimate moments. I guess, I’ve been feeling a bit unsure because we haven’t crossed that bridge yet."

Spencer’s expression shifted to one of realization mixed with a hint of distress. "Y/N, I’m so sorry if I made you feel neglected in any way. I do think about it, about being close to you like that. It’s just that I’m not very experienced. And... well, there’s something I’ve never told you."

Y/N reached out, placing a gentle hand on his. "You can tell me anything, Spencer. There’s nothing you could say that would make me think less of you."

Encouraged by her supportive demeanor, Spencer took a deep breath and shared his past trauma. "When I was a child, I had a really humiliating experience. I was tied to a post, and it was... it was really traumatic for me. Since then, I’ve been really nervous about being vulnerable with anyone."

Y/N’s heart ached for him, understanding now the depth of his hesitation. "Spencer, thank you for trusting me with that. I’m so sorry you went through such a horrible experience. I want you to know that with me, you’re safe. I would never laugh at you or judge you. We can take all the time you need, and we’ll only move forward with things you’re comfortable with."

Spencer looked at her, a mixture of relief and gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you, Y/N. That means everything to me. I do want to be close to you, and hearing you say that makes me feel a lot better about taking those steps together."

As Y/N reassured him, Spencer felt a tumult of emotions swirling within him. While he was relieved and grateful for her understanding and support, he couldn't shake off a pervasive sense of guilt. He realized that his own fears and past traumas had inadvertently led to him neglecting Y/N's needs and desires in their relationship.

Sitting beside her, Spencer's mind raced as he considered the implications. He cared deeply for Y/N, and the thought that he might have made her feel unvalued or unwanted pained him. His usual analytical mind turned inward, critiquing every moment they had spent together, wondering how many signs he had missed, how many silent calls for affection he had overlooked because of his own apprehensions.

I’ve been so wrapped up in my own fears, Spencer thought, that I might have missed what she was going through. She’s been patient and understanding, and here I’ve been, too caught up in my own head to see the full picture.

The realization that Y/N had been carrying this weight on her own added to his distress. She’s been dealing with this silently, not wanting to pressure me. And all this time, she might have felt I wasn’t interested in her in that way, which couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Spencer knew that Y/N deserved a partner who could meet her needs, both emotional and physical. He wanted to be that partner, but his past trauma had built a wall he found difficult to scale. I need to find a way through this, he resolved, not just for me, but for us. She’s been more than understanding, and I owe it to both of us to work on this.

As they continued to talk, Spencer felt a growing determination to overcome his barriers. I need to start therapy again, he considered, maybe talk to someone professional about how to move past these fears. And I need to be more open with Y/N, keep her informed about my feelings and progress. She shouldn’t have to guess what’s going on with me.

His heart felt heavy with the burden of his past, but also lighter with the possibility of a future where he could fully share himself with Y/N. She’s worth every effort, he thought, and I want to be someone who can fully share in all aspects of our relationship, not just the easy parts.

This night, though challenging, had opened a new chapter for Spencer, one where he faced not only the demons of his past but also the possibilities of a shared future with Y/N. As he looked at her, speaking softly across the couch, he felt a profound love and a fierce desire to be better, for her and for them.

—

Spencer and Y/N were nestled on the couch in his apartment, a gentle warmth from the soft glow of the lamps casting a comforting ambiance over the room. It was a typical quiet evening, but Spencer had something important to share, something that marked a significant step forward in both his personal journey and their relationship.

"Y/N, I wanted to tell you something," Spencer began, his voice tinged with a mix of vulnerability and quiet pride. "I've started going to therapy. After our last talk, I realized that I needed to address some things from my past to move forward, not just for us, but for myself as well."

Y/N turned to face him fully, her expression one of deep care and respect. "Spencer, that's wonderful. I'm so proud of you for taking that step. It's not easy to open up and seek help, but it's so important."

Spencer nodded, feeling a weight lifting off his shoulders with her supportive words. "Thank you, Y/N. It means a lot to hear that from you. It’s been tough, but I feel it’s necessary."

There was a moment of comfortable silence as they both reflected on the significance of his words. Then, Spencer, feeling a surge of courage bolstered by therapy and Y/N's unwavering support, decided to take another step forward.

"And, um, there’s something else," Spencer continued, his heartbeat quickening. "I feel like I've been making some progress, and I... I would like to be closer to you, in every way. I think I’m ready to share that part of myself with you, if you’re okay with it."

Y/N's heart warmed with his words, and she reached out to gently place her hand on his. "I would love that, Spencer. Whenever you’re ready, I’m here."

Encouraged by her acceptance and warmth, Spencer leaned closer, reducing the space between them. His voice was hesitant but hopeful, "Then, maybe we could... try something tonight? Only if you’re comfortable with it," he added quickly, his eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation.

Y/N's response was warm and full of affection, "Spencer, nothing would make me happier," she assured him, her hand reaching up to gently caress his cheek. She leaned in, their lips meeting in a tender kiss that sealed their mutual consent and deepening desire.

As they deepened their kiss, the connection between them grew, charged with a mix of emotional intensity and budding physical desire. Spencer felt a thrilling blend of excitement and nerves, but overwhelmingly, he was assured by the rightness of the moment. It was a step he was ready to take, fully and without any reservations, his previous fears now silenced by the trust and love they had built together.

"Okay, Spencer, I need to know," Y/N began, her voice soft but direct, "have you, um, touched yourself before?" She watched him intently, wanting to understand his level of comfort and experience.

Spencer hesitated for a moment, his cheeks flushing slightly with a mix of embarrassment and honesty. "I, god, um, yes, I have," he admitted, his eyes meeting hers with a blend of vulnerability and relief at her understanding.

Y/N smiled gently, her hand reaching out to caress his cheek. "Alright, that’s a good start, babe," she said reassuringly. "Let’s start there, but instead of your hand, it will be mine, is that okay?" Her words were filled with a mix of affection and gentle guidance, ensuring that he felt safe and comfortable as they explored this new level of intimacy together.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” Spencer replied, his voice steady but laced with the nervousness of what was about to happen.

Y/N, always considerate of his feelings, asked gently, “Do you want to keep your pants on? I can put my hand under your clothes if it makes you more comfortable.”

Spencer took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. “No, no it’s okay, Y/N. I want to be vulnerable with you. I trust you.” His eyes reflected the depth of his sincerity and the trust he placed in her.

Her heart swelled with love and appreciation for his bravery. “Okay then, Spence. Let's take this to the bedroom,” she suggested softly, guiding him with gentle touches and an encouraging smile.

Once in the bedroom, Y/N guided Spencer to gently sit on the bed. Her touch was gentle and reassuring, aimed at soothing his nerves while also conveying her own excitement. She started to unbutton his shirt first, each movement deliberate and caring. As she continued, her lips began placing gentle sucking kisses down his neck. Spencer's breathing picked up, a mix of nerves and arousal coursing through him.

Spencer's mind raced, caught between excitement and anxiety. This was a significant moment for him, one he had imagined but never truly experienced. The reality of it, the intimacy and the vulnerability, was both thrilling and terrifying.

I've never felt like this before, he thought, his heart pounding in his chest. She's so gentle, so understanding. I want this, I want her.

His excitement grew with every touch, but so did his anxiety. What if I don't know what to do? What if I disappoint her? Ohh, I am going to finish so fast.

Y/N seemed to sense his inner turmoil. She paused, looking into his eyes with a reassuring smile. "Spence, it's okay. We're in this together. Just relax and let it happen."

Her words calmed him, and he nodded, taking a deep breath. "I trust you, Y/N. Thank you for being so patient with me."

After Spencer’s shirt had been successfully removed, Y/N gently straddled his lap. Spencer immediately moaned, his hips bucking up and his hands settling on her own out of instinct. Their lips met in the middle, and a very heated kiss took place. Y/N grinded on his lap, feeling Spencer’s bulge, an appreciative hum coming from her throat.

“Hello to you too, handsome,” she murmured, her voice filled with mirth and teasing.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” Spencer blurted out, a mix of apology and embarrassment in his tone.

Y/N pulled back slightly, her eyes locking onto his with reassurance. “What could you possibly be sorry about, my love? Is this not what we’re here for? And besides, I’m flattered.”

Relief washed over Spencer, and he smiled softly, feeling more at ease. “I love you,” he whispered, the words carrying the depth of his feelings.

“And I love you,” Y/N responded, her voice tender and filled with sincerity. “Okay baby, can you lay back for me? I want to touch you.”

Spencer laid back on the bed, supporting himself with his pillows. Y/N began shimmying Spencer’s pants down his hips. He took a deep breath as his underwear was revealed, a bright pink pair with white lines and a large, prominent bulge in the middle.

Y/N giggled, “These are absolutely precious,” and she placed a kiss to his length through his briefs.

Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, fuck me. Had his brain been working, he would have also been so happy she wasn’t alarmed by his hot pink underwear. He had forgotten that he wore those that day.

She stared at his bulge. “I really, really want to.” He pushed at his briefs, clearly so desperate to get it off. She couldn’t help but chuckle at how eager he was. The stiff ridge of his cock was already standing at attention by the time he managed to get out of them.

Fully nude, Spencer had never looked more beautiful to Y/N. His chest was heaving and his glasses were fogging up with exertion. She slipped her fingers around the skin of his inner thighs and gently nudged them down past his balls, not touching but keeping eye contact with him so she wouldn’t spook him.

Only when she finally had him calm did she let her stare wander down, eyes widening ever so slightly. He was so hard, dripping and pink and veiny. She couldn’t help but feel her mouth fill with saliva at the sight.

He was mentally prepared for Y/N to just touch his dick, but instead she took her time to kiss his chest. She started at his collar bone, slowly licking to his pecs, taking his nipple in her mouth and sucking. Spencer cried out, that was a sensation he had never even thought of before. No amount of reading and studying could have prepared him for this. Being around Y/N took his IQ down to that of a much lesser man.

Y/N looked up to make sure that Spencer was okay, not in pain or uncomfortable. But seeing the look of sheer ecstasy on his face, she knew it was okay to continue. 

Spencer’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions and sensations. This is insane, he thought, I can’t believe this is happening. His usual analytical thoughts were overwhelmed by the intense feelings Y/N was eliciting. He couldn't focus on anything but the way she was making him feel—alive, aroused, and completely fucking attracted to her.

Y/N is amazing, he realized, his heart swelling with love and appreciation for her. Y/N is amazing, and she is my girlfriend, and she’s sucking on my nipples right now. Take that 19-year-old Spencer. 

As Y/N continued to suck and lick her way around Spencer’s chest, his dick twitched out of neglect, and he reached out to gently caress her breast, wanting to reciprocate the affection and pleasure she was giving him. Their eyes met, and in that shared gaze, they communicated everything that words could not—love, trust, and a deep, mutual desire to make each other feel good.

Y/N looked up at Spencer, her eyes twinkling with playful mischief. “You want to touch me too, pretty boy?” she asked, her voice sultry and inviting.

Spencer's breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire. “God, yes,” he replied, his voice thick with longing.

Y/N smiled, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “Awe, poor baby,” she cooed, her hands moving to remove her shirt, “I’m sorry. Let me take this off.” Her shirt was quickly followed by her bra, Y/N loved Spencer, but she also knew there was no way he was getting that off easily on his first try. 

As she peeled away the final layer of her upper half, Spencer couldn’t contain his reaction. “Oh shit,” he groaned, the sensation of her touch and the sight of her bare chest before him almost too much to bear.

He had never seen breasts before in a sexual setting, had never been allowed to touch. Now, he was holding both of Y/N’s tits in his large palms, gently squeezing and moving them as if to commit them to memory. Like that would be difficult for him. 

Spencer was so mesmerized by the feeling of her tits in his hands, he didn’t even notice her hand creeping down towards his length. Once Y/N wrapped a delicate hand around him, Spencer groaned out a pained noise, squeezing the fat in his hands a hell of a lot tighter.

Y/N's breath hitched as she whispered, “Fuck, Spencer.”

Spencer froze for a moment, his eyes widening with concern. “Oh my God, I am so sorry. Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

Y/N quickly shook her head, her hand reaching out to caress his cheek. “Oh, baby no! Fuck no, do it harder,” she reassured him, her tone soothing yet encouraging. A playful glint entered her eyes as she added, “In fact, why don’t you show me what that pretty mouth can do?”

Spencer's initial anxiety melted away at her words, replaced by a surge of confidence and arousal. She wants this as much as I do, he realized, feeling a wave of relief and desire. He took a deep breath, his hands steadying as he prepared to show her just how much he wanted to please her and how much he wanted to make this moment perfect for both of them.

Spencer leaned forward and took Y/N’s nipple in his mouth, he swirled his tongue around the bud experimentally. Looking up at her for reassurance. 

Y/N moaned loudly, grabbing the hair at the back of his head. She looked deeply into his eyes, her voice filled with desire and dripping with a new found sense of confidence. “Oh my god, Spencer. You look so fucking good. Please, baby.”

“Please, what?” he asked, pulling away slightly, his expression a mix of confusion and hope.

“Bite me,” she repeated, her eyes never leaving his.

Spencer couldn’t believe his ears. The affirmation of her words sank in, filling him with a sense of confidence and relief he had never felt before. She wants me to bite her, he thought, overwhelmed by the fear of hurting her. His heart raced, not just from the physical sensations, but from the emotional ones as well.

Feeling more secure and emboldened, Spencer leaned in again, their lips meeting in a kiss that fueled their fire even more. With one hand, he pinched her nipple, pulling hard. Y/N whined loudly in his mouth, so loud, in fact, Spencer was worried he went too far. But then Y/N sped up her hand on his length, pulling him so fast he started to see stars. 

Spencer's breathing grew more erratic as the sensations intensified, his body responding with overwhelming urgency. “Oh shit, oh my God. Y/N, you have to st–stop,” Spencer panted, his voice thick with desperation, “I’m going to cum if you don’t.”

Y/N looked up, a playful yet taunting smile on her face. “Awe but, baby boy! That’s what I want!” she teased, her tone filled with affectionate mischief.

Spencer’s eyes widened, a mixture of pleasure and panic in his expression. “Not this soon, please,” he begged, his voice trembling. He was desperate to prolong this intimate moment, to savor every second of their connection.

Seeing the earnest plea in his eyes, Y/N immediately softened her approach. “Okay, Spence, okay, take a breath. I’m sorry,” she said gently, pausing to give him a moment to regain control.

Spencer took a deep breath, grateful for her understanding. The tension eased slightly, and he felt a wave of appreciation for Y/N's attentiveness and care. She always seemed to know exactly how to balance their needs and desires, making him feel secure even in moments of vulnerability.

Y/N paused for a moment, her eyes meeting Spencer’s with a mix of playfulness and earnestness. “What do you want, Spence?” she asked softly, her voice filled with genuine curiosity and care.

Spencer looked back at her, feeling a wave of uncertainty. “I don’t, I don’t know, honestly,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly.

Y/N smiled gently, wanting to ease his nerves. “Can I suck your dick?” she asked, her tone light but serious.

Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. “You want to do that?? To me??” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and hope.

“Well, yeah, Spence.” Y/N laughed softly, her smile warm and reassuring. “You’re my boyfriend, do you want me to do that?”

Spencer felt a rush of excitement mixed with nervousness. “Yes! Only if you’re sure. I don’t want you to do it because you think you have to,” he said, wanting to ensure her comfort and willingness.

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with affection and desire. “Trust me, babe, I want to,” she replied, her voice firm and sincere. She leaned in closer, her hands gently caressing him, reassuring him with every touch.

Spencer's heart swelled with emotion, feeling a deep connection with Y/N. "Um, o–okay, yeah," he whispered, his voice thick with gratitude. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Spence," Y/N responded, her voice soft and filled with affection. She kissed him hard in that moment, getting them back in the mood in no time. 

Once she was sure Spencer’s nerves had settled some, Y/N slipped off of the bed and onto her knees. Glancing down at her, Spencer’s eyes were wide with wonder, not being able to believe his eyes. How does she look so beautiful like this?

Y/N began to kiss up Spencer’s lovely thighs, licking and gently biting as she finally got to put her mouth on her favorite part of him. She gently placed a hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingers.

“Ready, baby?” she asked softly, her voice filled with reassurance and love.

Spencer took a deep breath, his nerves momentarily flaring before being soothed by the warmth in her eyes. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice steady despite the swirl of emotions inside him.

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with affection for him. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his tip, licking up the small bead of pre cum that had been tempting her. 

Spencer choked on a gasp, white knuckling the covers on his bed. He had never had anything touch his cock before other than his own hand, and even that was rare. As Y/N left the tip to lick up and down the sides, Spencer felt himself lose his grip on reality. However, when her mouth moved down to his balls, Spencer found himself very aware.

“Woah, wait what?” Spencer exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine surprise and a touch of bewilderment.

Y/N immediately paused, concern flashing across her face. “I’m sorry, Spence, did you not like that?” she asked, her tone soft and reassuring.

Spencer shook his head, a mix of amazement and excitement in his eyes. “I didn’t know that was an option! People put that in their mouths?”

A playful smile spread across Y/N's face as she leaned closer. “Yeah, baby, they do. Did you like it?” she asked, her voice low and teasing.

“Mhm, please keep going,” Spencer replied, his voice breathless and filled with anticipation.

Encouraged by his response, Y/N resumed her gentle sucking, her movements deliberate and sensual. She enjoyed this part the most, making her partner fall apart. And being Spencer’s first meant she is also the first person to get to witness him like this. Hopefully I can be the last too.

Y/N noticed the tension in Spencer's body and gently cupped his face, looking deeply into his eyes. "Stop thinking, love. Try to relax. Here, baby, why don’t you put your hands in my hair. You can pull if you need to."

Spencer hesitated, concern flashing in his eyes. "I don’t want to hurt you," he confessed, his voice a mixture of worry and desire.

Y/N smiled softly, her touch reassuring. "You won’t," she promised. "You taste so good." 

Spencer was a whirlwind of emotions, feeling both embarrassed and thrilled by her words. He could feel the blush spreading across his whole body, his skin tingling with the intensity of the moment. Despite his nervousness, Y/N’s gentle encouragement and unwavering support made him feel safe and cherished.

Taking a deep breath, Spencer decided to trust in her words and in their connection. He slowly put his hands in her hair as she had suggested, feeling the soft strands between his fingers began to ground him. Whenever Y/N would suck particularly hard or gag around his head, Spencer’s fingers would flex and pull her hair.

Each time Y/N moaned, sending vibrations through Spencer’s body. He could feel himself spiraling closer and closer to his end, amazed he lasted this long to begin with. 

As Y/N continued to suck, Spencer's breathing grew more ragged, his body trembling with the intensity of the sensations she was creating. He felt himself nearing the edge, a feeling so overwhelming he could barely form coherent thoughts.

“Y/N… Y/N, baby, I’m close,” he panted, his voice filled with urgency and vulnerability.

“That’s good, let it go,” she murmured softly, her tone encouraging and loving while her tongue traced the ridge of his head.

“Where?” he managed to ask, needing her guidance in this intimate moment.

“In my mouth,” she replied, her voice steady and reassuring.

“Oh shit,” Spencer gasped, his body tensing as he followed her instructions.

Spencer came down Y/N’s throat with a borderline animalistic cry. She struggled to keep it all in mouth but managed to swallow most of it. Popping up with a beaming smile on her face, Spencer couldn’t help but laugh at the spit and cum smeared around her mouth. 

Spencer let out a chuckle, his usual reserve giving way to the joyous moment they were sharing. “Oh, babe, you’re a mess,” he laughed, his voice light and filled with affection as he looked at Y/N.

Y/N joined in his laughter, the sound blending with his and filling the room with warmth. “Well, well, well. I wonder why!” she teased, her eyes sparkling with playful mischief. She leaned in closer, her smile widening as their laughter mingled, creating a bubble of happiness that seemed to encase them both.

Y/N took her thumb and ran it along where the mess had lingered, then sucked her thumb into her mouth while holding eye contact with Spencer. He felt his spent cock give a weak twitch of appreciation for the sight of his sexy girlfriend wanting his cum in her mouth. He can not believe that this is his life. 

Spencer's breathing grew more ragged with each passing moment, his body responding intensely to Y/N's affectionate touch. He couldn't help but let out a small, breathless laugh, a mix of amusement and genuine astonishment at the sensations she was evoking. With a playful glint in his eye, he looked down at her and managed to ask, “Are you trying to kill me?” both teasingly and seriously.

Y/N paused for a moment, her lips curling into a mischievous smile as she met his gaze. "Only if you're enjoying it," she replied, her tone equally playful but layered with affection.

Spencer chuckled, his anxiety melting away in the warmth of her gaze and the comfort of their shared humor. "I am, I really am," he admitted, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and delight. He reached out to gently caress her face, feeling a rush of gratitude and love for this moment and for her.

Y/N leaned in to kiss Spencer again, her movements slow and deliberate, savoring the intimacy of their connection. Spencer’s head fell back onto the pillows, his eyes closing as he allowed himself to fully immerse in the sensations, his trust in her unwavering. His earlier nerves had been replaced with a profound sense of closeness and vulnerability, knowing that with Y/N, he could be his truest self without fear of judgment.

Every touch, every kiss felt like a reaffirmation of their bond, and Spencer couldn't help but feel incredibly fortunate. "Y/N, you make me feel... incredible," he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shining with love. "You deserve to feel this way, Spence. You're amazing, and I want you to know that every single day."

Spencer’s heart swelled with emotion at her words, he had never had anyone the way Y/N has him. 

“Y/N… you can say no. But, would you want to take a bath with me?” Spencer asked, his voice filled with a mix of hope and nervousness.

Y/N looked at him, a playful smile spreading across her face. “Spencer Reid, are you inviting me to a bathtub date?”

Spencer chuckled, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “Yes, I suppose I am. Rossi gave us this amazing bottle of wine, and I thought it might be nice to enjoy it while we relax… and get clean.”

Y/N’s smile widened, her eyes twinkling. “I’d love to. It sounds perfect.”

A little while later, they found themselves slipping into the warm, bubble filled water of the bathtub, glasses of wine in hand. Spencer had to recover quickly after Y/N removed her bottoms and walked off to the bathroom. I didn’t know she had a lower back tattoo… fuck that’s hot. 

The bathroom air was cool, a perfect contrast to the hot water that enveloped them. Rossi, ever the thoughtful friend, had gifted them a bottle of fine red wine upon hearing about their newly officiated relationship, and they had decided to savor it tonight.

They clinked their glasses together, a soft melody of laughter filling the air. “To us,” Y/N said, her eyes sparkling in the dim light.

“To us,” Spencer echoed, his smile wide and genuine.

As they sipped their wine, the rich flavors mingling with the scent of the scented candle, they relaxed further into each other’s company. Spencer leaned back and let the water soothe his muscles. “This wine is amazing,” Y/N remarked, swirling her glass and watching the liquid catch the light.

“Rossi has excellent taste,” Spencer agreed. “I’m glad he’s so supportive. The whole team is.”

Y/N nodded, her gaze softening as she looked at him. “It means a lot, knowing they’re happy for us. And I’m happy, Spence. Really happy.”

Spencer reached out, taking her hand in his. “Me too, Y/N. You make everything better.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying the warmth of the water and the closeness they shared. The bathtub was a cocoon of relaxation, the wine adding a pleasant buzz that made everything seem even more perfect.

Y/N giggled suddenly, breaking the silence. “Remember the first time we tried to watch Doctor Who together? We barely made it through one episode because we kept getting distracted.”

Spencer laughed, a rich, happy sound. “I remember. We were so excited to share something we both loved, and then we ended up talking through most of it.”

“It was one of my favorite dates,” Y/N said, her smile widening. “I love how we can just be ourselves with each other.”

“Me too,” Spencer replied, his heart swelling with affection. “It’s easy with you, Y/N. Everything just feels right.”

They toasted again, their glasses clinking softly in the night. “To many more nights like this,” Y/N said, her voice filled with hope and happiness.

“To many more,” Spencer agreed, leaning in to give her a gentle kiss.

“I love you, Spencer Reid,” Y/N whispered, her eyes locked onto his with a depth of emotion that made his heart skip a beat.

“I’m going to make you my wife someday, Y/N L/N,” Spencer replied, his voice filled with certainty and love.

Y/N was shell-shocked. Not upset, but elated, at a loss for words as she processed the weight of his statement. She opened her mouth to respond but found herself momentarily speechless.

“Cat got your tongue, baby?” Spencer teased gently, a playful smile dancing on his lips.

Y/N finally managed to find her voice, her eyes shining with tears of joy. “Spencer, you just... you just took my breath away,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “I love you so much, and the thought of spending my life with you is... incredible.”

Spencer pulled her closer, his heart swelling with happiness at her response. “I mean it, Y/N. You’re everything to me. I want us to have a future together, to build a life filled with love and adventure.”

Y/N’s smile widened, her heart feeling like it might burst from the sheer joy of the moment. “I want that too, Spence. More than anything.”

It wasn’t a proposal, it was a promise. 

They leaned in, their lips meeting in a tender, loving kiss, sealing the promise of their future together. As they continued to share giggling kisses, the bubbles covering Y/N's breasts began to pop, causing the two of them to laugh harder, especially at Spencer's reddening cheeks.

“Looks like the bubbles are conspiring against us,” Y/N said, her laughter infectious.

Spencer chuckled, his cheeks growing even redder. “I guess they want us to face reality.”

Y/N playfully splashed some water at him, still laughing. “Reality is pretty great with you.”

“Agreed,” Spencer said, pulling her closer. “I’m so glad we’re here, together.”

Their laughter gradually softened into contented smiles, and they continued to enjoy each other's company, eventually getting out of the cooling water and embarking in Spencer Reid’s very first sleepover. 

—

The next morning, Spencer woke up briefly to the comforting sensation of Y/N spooning him from behind. He felt so loved and protected, her even breaths on the back of his neck lulling him right back to sleep. 

The next time he woke up, he was alone. Panic surged through him momentarily until he heard sounds coming from the kitchen. Getting out of bed, Spencer threw on a pair of Doctor Who pajama pants and, still shirtless, made his way to the kitchen.

There, he found Y/N in a pair of cheeky underwear and one of his old college sweatshirts, cooking breakfast and brewing coffee. She had clearly run to the store as he had little other than cereal in the form of breakfast food. 

Spencer's breath caught in his throat at the sight. Seeing her in his clothes, moving so naturally around his kitchen, felt so right. The way the sweatshirt fit her body, the familiar fabric draped over her frame, made his heart swell with emotion. It was intimate, domestic, and overwhelmingly perfect.

He stood there for a moment, just watching her. Every movement she made was graceful and filled with care. The way she hummed softly to herself as she cooked, the way she glanced over her shoulder to smile at him—every detail was etched into his mind, painting a picture of pure, unfiltered love.

Spencer couldn’t believe how deeply in love he was with her. It wasn’t just about the physical attraction, though seeing her in his clothes did stir something primal and possessive within him. It was more than that. It was the way she had effortlessly integrated into his life, the way she made his apartment feel like a home.

He felt a surge of protectiveness, a need to ensure that she was always happy, always safe. Seeing her there, so comfortable and at ease in his space, solidified something within him. She was his, and he was hers. It was a partnership, a connection that transcended mere romance.

Spencer walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent. "Good morning, sleepyhead," Y/N said, turning her head to give him a quick kiss.

"Good morning," he murmured against her skin. "You didn’t have to do all this."

"I wanted to," she replied, moving over to give him another kiss, unable to resist his bedhead and glasses combo. "Besides, I thought it would be nice to surprise you with a proper breakfast."

Spencer wrapped his arms tighter around her, holding her close. "You’re amazing, you know that?"

Y/N chuckled, playfully nudging him. "I try. Now, sit down and enjoy. Breakfast is almost ready."

Spencer took a seat at the kitchen table, watching Y/N with a mix of admiration and gratitude. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have her in his life. The delicious aroma of freshly brewed coffee and cooking food filled the air, making the moment feel even more perfect.

"How did you manage to get all of this?" Spencer asked, genuinely curious.

Y/N shrugged with a grin. "I’m a woman of many talents. Plus, I couldn’t let you start your day with just cereal."

Spencer laughed, the sound light and genuine. "Well, thank you. This means a lot to me."

"Anything for you, Spence," Y/N said warmly, plating up the food and bringing it over to the table.

Spencer looked at his coffee, noticing it was still black as can be. His initial skepticism must have shown on his face because Y/N quickly picked up on it.

"Relax, Spence," she teased with a playful grin. "I put plenty of sugar in it. I know how you like your coffee."

He raised an eyebrow, matching her playful tone. "Oh, you do, do you? What if I’ve changed my preferences?"

Y/N laughed, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "I highly doubt that, Dr. Reid. But if you have, feel free to enlighten me."

He took a sip, and the familiar sweetness immediately made him smile. "Okay, you got me. This is perfect."

"Told you," she said with a smug smile, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I know you inside and out."

Spencer chuckled, his eyes full of warmth. "Guess I should be grateful you know me so well."

"You should," Y/N teased, nudging him playfully. "Where would you be without me to make sure your coffee is just right?"

"Probably drowning in bitter coffee and cereal," he replied, laughing.

a/n: my god i hope this was okay!! i couldn't get @softdoctorreid and this virgin spencer fic they wrote out of my head while writing this... so good! please check it out they are amazing!!

Bridges to Belonging

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

Summary: Y/N lives through the worst day of her life (in this world), will her and Spencer make it out the other side together?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, crime, smut, fluff

Warnings/Includes: hostage, guns, shooting, injury, danger, angst, crying, having mom and dad, meeting the parents, good relationship with parents, smut (18+) more warnings under the cut

Word count: 14.9k

a/n: hi!! i took a different turn with this than originally intended, believe it or not this is far less angsty than it was going to be

main masterlist

Additional warnings: PiV (unprotected not explicitly mentioned), fingering

Y/N was at work, discussing a patient’s progress with a physician assistant in the brightly lit corridor. The day had been routine, a comforting monotony of chart updates and consultations. She was in the middle of a detailed explanation when suddenly, the air was pierced by the sound of shouting and screaming from down the hall.

Y/N’s heart leapt into her throat as she turned around, her eyes widening in horror. A gunman stood at the entrance of the pediatric ward, his wild eyes scanning the room. He was heavily armed, the cold glint of the weapon sending chills down her spine.

The hospital’s sterile, safe atmosphere shattered in an instant, replaced by raw fear. Y/N’s instincts kicked in, and she reached out to protect the children nearby, pulling them close and trying to shield them as best she could. Her mind raced, but she forced herself to stay calm for the kids’ sake.

“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered, her voice shaking as she tried to comfort the children huddled around her. “Stay quiet and stay close to me.”

The gunman’s voice echoed through the ward, barking orders to his team who were spreading out, searching the rooms methodically. “Find Alex!” he screamed. “We don’t leave until we have him!”

Y/N’s heart pounded louder with each passing second. She had no idea who they were looking for, but the desperation and menace in their actions made it clear they were willing to do anything to find their target.

She locked eyes with the physician assistant, both of them understanding the gravity of the situation. They had to protect the children, keep them safe from this nightmare that had invaded their sanctuary.

The gunman’s gaze swept across the room and landed on Y/N, his eyes narrowing. “You!” he barked, pointing the gun at her. “Get over here!”

Y/N’s legs felt like jelly, but she forced herself to stand, her hands trembling. She stepped forward, trying to keep her voice steady. “Please, there are children here. Let them go.”

The gunman sneered, tightening his grip on the weapon. “You’re in no position to negotiate. Move!”

Y/N complied, her mind racing with fear and uncertainty. She had to stay strong, had to find a way to protect the children and survive this ordeal. As she moved closer to the gunman, she glanced back at the kids, giving them a reassuring nod. 

“Stay calm,” she mouthed, praying that help would come soon. Her thoughts flickered to Spencer, hoping against hope that he would somehow sense something was wrong.

—

Spencer was at his desk, surrounded by stacks of case files and reference books. The familiar hum of the BAU office was a comforting backdrop as he immersed himself in the latest research. He had just made a particularly interesting connection when the door to Hotch's office flew open, and JJ came rushing in, her face pale and urgent.

Hotch emerged a moment later, his expression grave. He called out to the team, his voice cutting through the usual office noise. "Everyone, into the meeting room. Now."

Spencer felt a knot of anxiety tighten in his stomach. He quickly followed the others, his mind racing with possibilities. As they gathered around the table, Hotch wasted no time.

"We have a hostage situation at a hospital," Hotch began, his tone serious and focused. "St. Agnes Hospital. An armed group has taken control of the pediatric wing. They’re looking for a specific patient, presumed to be someone’s son."

Spencer felt his heart stop. St. Agnes. That’s where Y/N works. His mind immediately flashed to her, and a wave of panic surged through him. He tried to keep his breathing steady, but the fear gnawed at him, threatening to overwhelm his composure.

Hotch continued, "We don’t have all the details yet, but we know the gunmen are heavily armed and have made it clear they won’t leave without the patient. The situation is extremely volatile."

Spencer’s hands clenched into fists under the table. He forced himself to focus on Hotch’s words, knowing that staying calm and collected was the only way to help Y/N and the children she was likely with. The pediatric wing. Of course, she would be there, comforting and protecting the kids as best she could.

Morgan noticed the tension radiating from Spencer and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We’ll get them out, Reid. We’ll get Y/N and those kids out of there."

Spencer nodded, swallowing hard. "What’s our plan?" he asked, his voice barely steady.

Hotch looked around the room, meeting each team member's eyes. "We’ll coordinate with local law enforcement and the hospital security team. JJ, start gathering intel on the gunmen. Prentiss, work with Garcia to get the hospital's layout and any surveillance footage we can use. Morgan, I want you and Rossi to start strategizing entry points and containment. Spencer, we’ll need your expertise on profiling the gunmen. They’re looking for someone specific, which means they have a motive we need to understand quickly."

Spencer nodded again, forcing himself to focus. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, but he knew he had to compartmentalize, to use his fear as fuel to bring Y/N and the children to safety.

As the team dispersed to their tasks, Spencer took a deep breath, steeling himself for the challenge ahead. He wouldn’t let his fear control him. He would use it to drive him, to ensure that Y/N and every single child in that hospital made it out safely.

—

Y/N stood rigidly in front of the gunmen, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and defiance. The children huddled across from her, behind the PA, their small faces pale with terror. The leader of the gunmen, a tall, menacing figure with cold eyes, stepped closer, his gun trained on her.

"Where is Alex Bartel?" he demanded, his voice sharp and unforgiving.

Y/N's heart raced, but she kept her lips pressed tightly together, refusing to give them any information. She couldn't betray the child, no matter what they threatened.

The gunman’s patience was thin. He grabbed her by the arm and shook her. "I asked you a question. Where is Alex Bartel?"

Y/N remained silent, her eyes meeting his with unwavering determination. She knew that giving up Alex would mean certain doom for the child. Her silence was her shield, her only weapon against these monsters.

The gunman’s face twisted in anger. He struck her across the face, the force of the blow sending her reeling. "Talk!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the hall.

Y/N’s vision blurred, but she shook her head, biting back the pain. She wouldn’t break. Not for them. Not ever.

"Fine," the gunman hissed, a cruel smile spreading across his face. He turned his attention to the children. "If you won’t talk, maybe they will."

He reached out to grab one of the kids, a little girl who had been clutching the PA’s leg, tears streaming down her face. Panic surged through Y/N. She couldn’t let them hurt the children. She had to do something.

"No!" Y/N screamed, lunging forward to block the gunman’s path. "Don’t touch her!"

In the chaos, another gunman reacted instinctively to her sudden movement. A shot rang out, echoing through the hall. Y/N felt a searing pain in her shoulder, the force of the impact sending her to the ground. 

To everyone watching, the shot seemed fatal, aimed at her heart. The children screamed, the sound mingling with the shouts of the gunmen. Y/N’s vision darkened, her body slumping as the pain overwhelmed her.

Y/N lay motionless on the cold floor, every nerve in her body screaming with pain. The searing wound in her shoulder throbbed with every heartbeat, but she knew better than to move. She couldn’t give away the fact that she was still alive. If the gunmen realized their mistake, they would surely shoot her again to finish the job.

Her breath came in shallow, controlled gasps, each one a battle against the agony that threatened to overwhelm her. She could hear the gunmen barking orders, their voices a harsh backdrop to the terrified sobs of the children. 

Y/N's mind raced, trying to stay focused. She had to keep still, had to play dead convincingly. Any movement, any sign of life, and the gunmen would be back. She needed to survive for the children, for Spencer, for herself.

The sounds around her blurred into a distant cacophony as she concentrated on remaining perfectly still. She willed herself to ignore the pain, to ignore the fear coursing through her veins. She imagined Spencer’s face, his comforting presence, his strength. It gave her something to hold onto, a reason to endure.

Minutes felt like hours as she lay there, every second a test of her willpower. She could feel the warmth of her blood pooling beneath her, the scent of it mingling with the sterile hospital air. But she didn't move, didn't even flinch.

The gunmen continued their search, their footsteps echoing as they moved through the hospital. Y/N's ears strained to pick up any sign that help was coming, any indication that the nightmare might soon be over. 

As the commotion grew more distant, Y/N allowed herself a tiny sliver of hope. She could hear the faint sound of sirens in the distance, a promise that help was on the way. She just had to hold on a little longer.

In the back of her mind, she clung to the thought of Spencer. He would come. He would find her. She just had to survive until then. And with that thought, she found the strength to keep still, to keep pretending, to keep fighting.

Y/N's resolve was strong, but the unrelenting pain in her shoulder grew more intense with each passing moment. She could feel her strength waning, her body struggling to maintain the façade of lifelessness. The room spun around her, and her vision started to blur, darkening at the edges.

The children’s cries became a distant echo, their voices blending with the harsh commands of the gunmen. Every heartbeat sent a fresh wave of agony through her body, and she could feel herself slipping, her grip on consciousness loosening despite her desperate fight to stay awake.

The blood loss was taking its toll, making her lightheaded and dizzy. She tried to focus on the sounds around her, hoping to catch any sign that help was near, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Her mind drifted, thoughts of Spencer and the children mingling in a haze of pain and fear.

Finally, the pain became too much to bear. Y/N's body, pushed to its limits, began to shut down. Her eyelids fluttered, and she felt herself falling into the dark abyss of unconsciousness. The last thing she remembered was the faint, distant sound of sirens, a small beacon of hope in the overwhelming darkness.

As she passed out, her body remained still, the illusion of death convincing enough to keep the gunmen at bay. The children, still huddled together, continued to cry, unaware that Y/N's unconscious state was a result of her heroic efforts to protect them.

In the midst of chaos, Y/N's mind finally succumbed to the darkness, her body limp and motionless on the cold hospital floor.

—

Aaron Hotchner stood with the tactical team, coordinating the next steps of their entry strategy. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he stepped aside to take the call, the tension evident in his posture.

"Hotchner," he answered, his voice steady.

"Sir, we have a report of a casualty inside the hospital. An adult, no ID yet," came the voice on the other end.

Hotch's heart sank. Y/N wasn't just Spencer's girlfriend; she was family to him. He'd known her for years, watching her grow from a compassionate, driven student into a dedicated child psychologist. She had been there for Jack during some of the hardest times in his life, and her presence had been a source of comfort and stability. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but he couldn't ignore the gnawing fear that it could be Y/N.

He knew Spencer was already on edge, and the last thing he wanted was to add to his anxiety without concrete information. It could not be Y/N. The thought of her being in danger hit him hard, but he had to stay focused for the sake of the mission and everyone involved.

"Understood. Keep me updated," Hotch replied, his tone firm. He turned back to the team, his mind racing. They needed to move quickly and efficiently to minimize further casualties and end the standoff.

Hotch gathered Derek Morgan, David Rossi, and the law enforcement team, finalizing their plan. They would enter through multiple access points, coordinate with the hospital security, and neutralize the gunmen as swiftly as possible.

"We move on my signal," Hotch instructed, his voice carrying the authority and calm needed to lead the team through the chaos.

With a nod, the team moved into position. Hotch, Derek, and Rossi led the charge, their movements precise and controlled. The hospital corridors, usually a place of healing and care, were now battlegrounds filled with tension and fear.

As they breached the pediatric wing, the sound of their approach startled the gunmen. Derek and Rossi quickly subdued the nearest threats, their training and instincts taking over. Hotch moved methodically, his focus unyielding.

"FBI! Drop your weapons!" Hotch's voice echoed through the halls, a command that brooked no argument. The gunmen, caught off guard, began to surrender under the overwhelming presence of the tactical team.

In the midst of securing the area, Derek's keen eyes scanned the rooms for any sign of Y/N. He moved swiftly, his heart pounding with the urgency to find her safe. As he entered one of the rooms, he saw her—lying motionless on the floor, blood pooling beneath her shoulder.

"Y/N!" Derek shouted, rushing to her side. He checked for a pulse, relief washing over him when he felt the faint but steady beat. "Medic! We need a medic here, now!"

Derek gently cradled Y/N's head, his voice soothing despite the chaos around them. "Hang in there, Y/N. You're going to be okay. Help is on the way."

As the medics arrived and began to take her, Derek's thoughts were with Spencer. He knew his friend would be devastated to see Y/N like this, but he also knew that Spencer needed to know the truth.

"Hotch, we found her," Derek reported through his earpiece. "She's alive, but she needs medical attention immediately."

Hotch received Derek's message with a mix of relief and dread. He had to tell Spencer, but he needed to do it in a way that wouldn't distract him from the mission. As the team secured the remaining gunmen and ensured the safety of the children, Hotch made his way back to a quiet area where he could call Spencer.

The weight of what he had to say pressed heavily on his chest. Hotch knew how deeply Spencer cared for Y/N, and the thought of her being hurt was like a knife to his own heart. He took a deep breath and dialed Spencer's number, steeling himself for the conversation ahead.

"Spencer," Hotch said, his voice gentle yet firm when Spencer answered. "We found Y/N. She's alive, but she's injured. Derek and the medics are with her now."

There was a beat of silence on the other end, then a sharp intake of breath. Spencer's eyes widened, a mixture of fear and relief flooding his features. "I need to see her," he said, his voice trembling with emotion, barely holding back the panic threatening to overtake him.

"You will, Spencer," Hotch assured him, his own voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "But we need to make sure the area is completely secure first. Stay focused, and stay where you are. We'll get you to her as soon as it's safe."

Spencer nodded, though Hotch couldn't see it. "Okay," he whispered, his mind racing with images of Y/N lying injured, of the moments they had shared, of the fear that he might lose her. "Please... please hurry."

Hotch could hear the anguish in Spencer's voice, and it tore at him. "We will, Spencer. I promise."

Spencer hung up the phone, his hands shaking. He felt utterly helpless, a sensation he rarely experienced. The logical part of his brain fought to maintain control, to focus on the facts and the tasks at hand, but his heart was in turmoil. Y/N was hurt, and he wasn't there to protect her.

He paced the small room, his mind replaying every moment he had spent with Y/N, every laugh, every touch, every word. The thought of her in pain, of her possibly slipping away from him, was unbearable. He felt a tear escape, and he angrily wiped it away, determined to stay strong for her.

"You'll be okay, Y/N," he whispered to himself, his voice cracking. "You have to be okay."

Back inside the hospital, the team worked with precise urgency. Derek, Rossi, and the law enforcement officers moved through the corridors, securing the gunmen and ensuring the children's safety. Derek's thoughts kept drifting back to Y/N, lying there injured but alive. He pushed himself harder, knowing they needed to get Spencer to her as soon as possible.

Finally, with the immediate threat neutralized and the hostages safe, Derek made his way back to the entrance, where Spencer was waiting, his eyes searching desperately for any sign of Y/N. When Derek saw him, he felt a surge of empathy. Spencer looked like a man on the edge, barely holding himself together.

"Reid," Derek called out, his voice breaking the silence.

Spencer turned, his eyes filled with desperation. "Where is she? Is she okay?"

"She's in the medical bay," Derek said, his voice gentle. "She's stable, but we need to get her to a hospital for surgery."

Spencer didn't wait for Morgan to say anything else. He ran towards the medical bay, his heart pounding in his chest. When he reached it, he saw a flurry of activity, medics moving quickly and urgently around a stretcher. He strained to see through the chaos, his heart in his throat, desperate to catch a glimpse of Y/N.

"Where is she?" he shouted, his voice breaking. "I need to see her!"

A medic stepped in front of him, gently but firmly placing a hand on his shoulder. "Spencer, you can't go in there right now. She's in critical condition and has lost a lot of blood. They're doing everything they can to stabilize her."

Spencer felt like the ground had been pulled out from under him. He swayed slightly, his vision blurring with tears. "No, I need to see her. She needs to know I'm here."

The medic's eyes softened with understanding. "I know this is hard, but the best thing you can do right now is let them work. As soon as she's stable, you'll be the first to know."

Spencer nodded numbly, his heart aching with helplessness. He stepped back, his eyes never leaving the flurry of activity around the stretcher. Every second felt like an eternity as he stood there, silently willing her to hold on.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered to himself, his voice filled with anguish. "Please hold on. Please be okay."

Finally, the medics began to move, preparing to transport Y/N to the hospital for surgery. Spencer followed as closely as he could, his heart breaking with every step. He couldn't be by her side right now, but he would be there the moment they let him. They had faced a nightmare, but he refused to believe this was the end. They had survived, and he would make sure they had many more days together, no matter what it took.

—

Spencer made his way to the waiting room, his steps heavy with worry. Approaching the receptionist, he tried to steady his voice. "Excuse me, could you please notify me when Y/N L/N is out of surgery?"

The receptionist looked up from her computer and asked, "And who are you in relation to her?"

"I'm her boyfriend," Spencer replied, his voice trembling with the effort to stay calm. “Spencer Reid.”

The receptionist frowned slightly and checked the records. "I'm sorry, but you're not listed as her emergency contact. We'll have to ask her once she's awake if she wants you to be notified."

Frustration surged through Spencer, and he clenched his fists. "You don't understand, she's... she will want me there. I need to know if she's okay. I need to see her."

Luckily, Hotch appeared at his side, placing a calming hand on Spencer's shoulder. "Spencer, it's okay. We'll figure this out."

Hotch turned to the receptionist. "I'm Aaron Hotchner, and Y/N's emergency contacts are myself and my wife, Haley Hotchner. Could you please update us on her status and inform us when she's out of surgery?"

The receptionist nodded, recognizing Hotch. "Of course, Agent Hotchner. We'll make sure you're informed."

As they sat in the waiting room, a storm of emotions churned within Spencer. The initial shock of hearing Y/N was injured had given way to a simmering frustration, which now threatened to boil over. He couldn't understand why he wasn't listed as her emergency contact. After everything they'd been through, after all the moments they had shared, why was he still on the periphery of her life?

Hotch's presence, usually a calming force, now felt like a reminder of his own inadequacy. Spencer tried to remind himself that Y/N had known the Hotchners much longer, and logically it made sense for them to be her contacts. But logic was a poor balm for his wounded pride and anxiety.

"Why am I not her emergency contact?" Spencer muttered under his breath, the words escaping before he could stop them. "We've been together for months. I've been there for her just as much as anyone else."

Hotch, overhearing, placed a hand on Spencer's shoulder. "Spencer, it's not about that. Y/N trusts you. This is just a formality."

"But it doesn’t feel like just a formality," Spencer shot back, his voice rising slightly. "It feels like... like I'm not as important to her as I thought I was."

Hotch met his gaze with steady eyes. "You're not thinking clearly right now. This isn't about who's more important. It's about who could get to her parents the fastest, who’s already in the system. We can update it later, but right now, focus on the fact that she's stable and going to be okay."

Spencer took a deep breath, trying to let Hotch's words sink in. But the knot of frustration in his chest wouldn't fully dissolve. He felt sidelined, helpless, and it was tearing him apart.

He ran a hand through his hair, struggling to keep his composure. "I just... I need to see her. I need to know she's okay."

"You will," Hotch promised, his voice firm. "We're going to see her as soon as they let us. She's going to need you, Spencer. So stay strong for her."

Spencer nodded, his heart aching with a mix of love and frustration. He wanted to be the one Y/N relied on, the one she turned to in her darkest moments. And perhaps, once she was awake and well, they could have that conversation. For now, he had to focus on being there for her, no matter what.

"Spencer, she's in good hands. The doctors are doing everything they can. Let's just focus on being here for her when she wakes up."

Spencer nodded, trying to take comfort in Hotch's words. He knew Hotch cared deeply for Y/N, almost like a sister, and seeing him so calm helped Spencer find some semblance of control.

Meanwhile, Haley was on the phone with Y/N's parents, explaining the situation. "M/N, D/N, Y/N's been hurt, but she's in surgery now. Aaron and I are here with her. I thought you should know. You might want to come as soon as you can."

Her parents, understandably distraught, promised to catch the next flight. "We'll be there as soon as we can, Haley. Thank you for letting us know."

With Y/N's parents on their way, Haley relieved Aaron to go home with Jack and kept Spencer company in the waiting room. She sat next to Spencer, offering him a supportive smile. "She'll pull through, Spencer. She's strong. Just hold on a little longer."

Spencer nodded, trying to take comfort in her words. He appreciated Haley's presence, even though his mind was a whirlwind of worry and frustration. The waiting was agonizing, each passing second dragging on interminably. Every time a doctor or nurse walked by, his heart would leap into his throat, hoping for news.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a surgeon approached them, his expression serious but not grim. Spencer stood up, his pulse quickening.

"Y/N L/N is out of surgery," the surgeon said, and Spencer's breath caught. "The bullet missed any major organs, but she lost a lot of blood. She's stable now and will be moved to the ICU shortly. You can see her once she's settled."

Relief flooded Spencer, and he nodded, tears of gratitude welling up in his eyes. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Haley squeezed his shoulder again, a silent reminder of the support surrounding him. "I’m going to go see her," she said softly. “I’ll tell her you’re here, ask about having you come back.”

Spencer watched as Haley walked towards the ICU, his mind a tumult of emotions. He was relieved beyond measure, but the ordeal had taken a toll on him. He sank back into his chair, trying to steady his breathing, to calm the frantic beating of his heart.

Minutes later, which felt like hours, Haley returned, her expression gentle but firm. "She’s still groggy, but she’s awake. She wants to see you."

Spencer's heart leapt. He stood up, his legs feeling unsteady, and followed Haley to the ICU. As they walked through the sterile corridors, his thoughts raced. He felt a mixture of overwhelming relief and lingering fear, the adrenaline of the past hours still coursing through his veins.

They reached Y/N's room, and Haley gently opened the door. Spencer stepped inside, his eyes immediately finding Y/N on the bed. She looked pale and fragile, but her eyes were open, and a faint smile played on her lips when she saw him.

"Spence," she whispered, her voice weak but filled with emotion.

Spencer crossed the room in a few quick strides and took her hand, careful not to jostle her. "I'm here," he said, his voice breaking. "I'm right here."

Y/N's fingers tightened around his. "I knew you'd come," she murmured. "I knew you'd be here."

Spencer leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I love you, Y/N. So much."

"I love you too," she whispered back, her eyes closing again as exhaustion overtook her.

Y/N felt the overwhelming relief of seeing Spencer by her side, his presence a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. As his hand enveloped hers, a sense of safety and comfort washed over her. The pain and fear that had gripped her began to ebb away, replaced by the warmth of his touch and the love in his eyes. With Spencer there, holding her hand and whispering words of love and comfort, she finally felt safe enough to rest. The rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his presence—it was all she needed to drift into a peaceful sleep, knowing she was not alone.

Spencer stayed by her side, his heart aching with love and relief. He watched her breathe, the rise and fall of her chest a soothing rhythm that calmed his frayed nerves. He knew the road to recovery would be long, but they were together, and that was all that mattered.

Haley stood by the door, giving them a moment of privacy before she quietly left to update the others. Spencer barely noticed, his entire focus on Y/N. He held her hand, whispering words of love and reassurance, promising to be there for her every step of the way.

When Y/N woke up, the room was filled with a soft morning light filtering through the blinds. Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim glow, and she immediately felt the presence of her parents. Her father stood at the foot of the bed, his usually stoic demeanor cracking under the weight of worry for his daughter's health. As a healthcare worker himself, he understood the gravity of her condition, and it showed in the deep lines of concern etched on his face.

Her mother, always kind but with a slightly cold detachment due to her autism, was silently crying. She leaned over, gently kissing Y/N’s forehead, a rare display of emotion and physical contact that spoke volumes about her love and fear.

Both parents were so focused on Y/N that they barely noticed the man asleep next to her bed, or barely cared. Spencer was slumped over in the hospital chair, his hand still entwined with Y/N’s, his face resting on the edge of the bed. The uncomfortable position had left him sore, but he had refused to leave her side.

As Y/N stirred, her father finally noticed Spencer. He glanced at his wife, silently acknowledging the presence of the young man who had stayed with their daughter through the night. There was an unspoken understanding between them, a recognition of Spencer's dedication and love for Y/N.

Spencer woke up with a start, the realization of new faces in the room jolting him upright. His body ached from the awkward position, but his concern for Y/N overrode any discomfort. He quickly assessed the situation, his gaze moving from Y/N's parents to her, checking to see how she was feeling.

Y/N's father stepped forward, extending a hand. "You must be Spencer. I'm Dr. L/N, Y/N's father. Thank you for being here with her."

Spencer stood up, shaking the offered hand. "Yes, sir. Spencer Reid. I'm... I'm her boyfriend," he said, a bit flustered but determined to show his respect.

Her mother, still holding Y/N’s hand, gave Spencer a nod of acknowledgment. "Thank you for staying with her," she said, her voice soft but sincere.

Y/N squeezed Spencer's hand, offering him a reassuring smile despite her own fatigue. "Spence, these are my parents," she introduced gently. "Dad, Mom, this is Spencer."

Spencer nodded, looking at Y/N’s parents with a mix of gratitude and determination. "I wouldn't be anywhere else. I love her."

Dr. L/N gave a small, approving nod, while Y/N's mother gently squeezed her daughter's hand, her tears finally stopping as she found some solace in the love surrounding her child.

The room was filled with a palpable sense of relief and unity. Despite the fear and pain of the past hours, there was a shared understanding that together, they would support Y/N through her recovery, each drawing strength from the presence of the others.

As the days passed, Y/N remained in the hospital, her body gradually healing from the surgery. The sterile environment that had once felt like a sanctuary of healing now felt like a constant reminder of the trauma she had endured. Each day, she was faced with the decision that weighed heavily on her mind: should she stay at her current job, where she no longer felt safe, or should she take her parents up on their offer to move in with them and start anew at her father's hospital?

During her recovery, Y/N spent a lot of time alone with her thoughts, the hospital room both a place of healing and a crucible for her inner turmoil. She looked out the window, watching the world go by, feeling disconnected from it all. The decision felt like a crossroads, each path holding its own set of challenges and uncertainties.

In the quiet moments, she replayed the day she was shot over and over in her mind. The fear, the helplessness, the pain—it all came rushing back. Could she really return to the place where she had almost lost her life? She loved her job and the children she worked with, but the thought of walking through those halls again filled her with dread.

On the other hand, the idea of moving back in with her parents felt like a step backward. She had worked so hard to build her own life and establish her independence. Yet, the safety and comfort of her parents' home and the opportunity to work alongside her father at his hospital seemed appealing. It would provide her with a fresh start, away from the memories of the trauma, and a chance to heal both physically and emotionally.

Y/N's parents visited her often, bringing warmth and reassurance. Her father, with his calm demeanor, spoke about the new position at his hospital, emphasizing how much they needed someone with her skills and compassion. Her mother, despite her usual reserved nature, expressed how much she wanted Y/N to be safe and close to them. Their love and concern were evident, and it tugged at Y/N's heartstrings.

Spencer was a constant presence, too. He stayed with her as much as possible, bringing books to read together and engaging in gentle, comforting conversations. He was her rock, his quiet strength a source of solace. But she knew that staying with him meant staying in the city, where the memories of the shooting would linger.

—

As Y/N finally left the hospital, she decided to celebrate her recovery with a special dinner for her parents and Spencer. She chose a cozy, intimate restaurant where they could all relax and enjoy a pleasant evening together. The soft lighting and warm atmosphere provided the perfect setting for the occasion.

As they sat down at their table, Y/N smiled at the three people who meant the most to her. She felt a deep sense of gratitude for their support and love throughout her recovery. The conversation flowed easily, with laughter and shared stories.

"Spencer, did you know my dad is a doctor too?" Y/N said, glancing between Spencer and her father. "It's one of the reasons I chose to work in healthcare."

Spencer nodded, smiling at her father. "Yes, Y/N mentioned it. What field are you in, Mr. L/N?"

"I'm in internal medicine," her father replied, his eyes twinkling with pride. "Y/N has always had a passion for helping others. I'm glad she's found her own path in the medical field."

Y/N's mother chimed in, her voice warm but slightly detached, "And we hear you're a doctor too, Spencer. That's quite impressive."

Spencer blushed slightly, feeling the weight of their admiration. "Yes, I'm a profiler with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. It's a bit different from traditional medicine, but it's incredibly rewarding."

The conversation continued pleasantly, with everyone enjoying the meal and each other's company. However, the topic soon turned to the decision that had been weighing heavily on Y/N's mind.

"So, Y/N, have you made a decision?" her father asked gently, his tone filled with concern.

Spencer looked puzzled, glancing between Y/N and her parents. "What decision are you talking about?"

Y/N hesitated, her heart racing. Before she could respond, her mother, oblivious to the tension, answered, "Oh, the decision about whether Y/N will stay here or move back home with us to work at her father's hospital. We think it would be best for her to be closer to family, especially after what happened."

Spencer's face fell, a mix of shock and hurt washing over him. He looked at Y/N, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions. "Y/N, you never mentioned this to me," he said quietly, his voice trembling.

Y/N reached out to him, her eyes pleading. "Spence, I was going to talk to you about it. I just... I needed more time to figure things out."

But Spencer was already standing, his chair scraping against the floor. "I need some air," he muttered, turning and walking out of the restaurant before anyone could stop him.

Y/N watched him go, her heart breaking. She turned back to her parents, her eyes filled with tears. "I need to go after him," she said, her voice choked with emotion.

Her father nodded, understanding. "Go, Y/N. We'll be here when you get back."

Y/N hurried out of the restaurant, searching for Spencer. She found him outside, leaning against a lamppost, his shoulders hunched. She approached him slowly, her heart aching for the pain she saw in his eyes.

"Spence," she whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. "I'm so sorry. I was going to tell you."

Spencer looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and anguish. "Why didn't you, Y/N? Why didn't you trust me enough to share this with me?"

Y/N's tears flowed freely now, her voice trembling. "I was scared, Spence. Scared of losing you, scared of making the wrong decision. I didn't want to burden you with my doubts."

Spencer took a deep breath, his expression softening slightly. "Y/N, you're not a burden. I love you, and I want to be there for you, no matter what. But we can't keep secrets from each other. We have to face these challenges together."

As they stood in the dim light outside the restaurant, Spencer stepped back slightly, searching Y/N’s eyes for answers. His voice was soft but tinged with hurt and confusion. "Y/N, why are you even considering leaving? Is it because of me?"

Y/N's eyes widened in shock, she stepped forward and brought her hands up to cradle his face. "No, Spencer, it's not because of you. It's not about you at all."

"Then why?" he asked, his voice cracking. "Why are you thinking about moving back home?"

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "It's because of what happened, Spence. After getting shot, I don't feel safe at the hospital anymore. I thought I could handle it, but every time I walk through those doors, I relive that moment. My parents offered me a job at my dad's hospital, and it feels like a safe place to heal and recover."

Spencer looked down, his heart heavy with the weight of her words. "I just thought... I thought we were building something here, together. I didn't realize you were struggling so much."

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you sooner," Y/N whispered, tears streaming down her face. "I didn't want to worry you, and I didn't know how to bring it up. But please believe me, Spencer, you're the reason I want to stay. You're my anchor, my safe place. I love you so much."

Spencer's eyes, instead of softening, hardened with a mix of confusion and frustration. "Why didn't you tell me, Y/N? How could you keep something this big from me?" His voice was louder now, the pain and anger evident.

"I didn't know how, Spencer! I was scared and confused," Y/N cried, her voice cracking. "I didn't want to burden you with my fears."

"Burden me?" Spencer repeated incredulously. "Y/N, we're supposed to share our burdens, not hide them from each other! Do you have any idea how it feels to find out like this, from your parents, not from you?"

Y/N flinched at his words, the guilt gnawing at her. "I know, and I'm sorry. But this isn't easy for me either! I don't feel safe there anymore, and my parents offered me a way out."

"A way out? So you're just going to run away?" Spencer snapped, the anger he rarely showed now surfacing. "What about us? What about what we're doing here?"

"Don't you think I want to stay?" Y/N shot back, her own anger flaring. "Don't you think I want to be with you? But I can't keep pretending everything's okay when it's not!"

Spencer ran a hand through his hair, pacing in frustration. "I thought we were in this together. But it feels like you're making decisions without me."

"I'm trying to figure things out, Spencer! I'm scared, and I don't know what to do," Y/N shouted, her voice breaking. "But that doesn't mean I don't love you."

Spencer stopped pacing and turned to face her, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and hurt. "Then why does it feel like you're already leaving?"

Y/N took a deep breath, her voice trembling as she replied, "I think we both know the answer to that."

Spencer's face fell, a look of devastation crossing his features. "Y/N, don't... please."

She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Spence, I love you, but I can't stay here feeling like this. I'm scared all the time, and I can't keep pretending that everything's okay. It’s not fair to either of us."

"But we can work through this," Spencer argued, his voice desperate. "We can find a way."

Y/N's voice broke as she continued, "I wish it were that simple. But every time I walk into that hospital, I relive that day. I can't breathe, I can't function. I can't keep living like this."

Spencer's eyes filled with tears, his voice barely a whisper. "So, what does this mean for us?"

Y/N's heart ached as she looked at him, her voice raw with pain. "It means I need to go home, to heal. I need time, and space, and I can't do that here. And you... you need to be here, doing what you do best. It's not fair to ask you to leave everything for me."

Spencer shook his head, his tears falling freely now. "I don't care about that. I care about you. I can't lose you."

Y/N stepped closer, her hand gently cupping his cheek. "You won't lose me. But we both need to take this time to figure things out. Maybe one day, when we're both ready, we can find our way back to each other."

Spencer closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. "I don't want to wait. I want you now."

Y/N's heart shattered at his words, but she knew what needed to be done. "I know, Spence. But right now, I need to do this for me. And you need to let me."

Spencer opened his eyes, the pain evident in his gaze. "I don't know if I can."

Y/N's voice was soft but firm. "You can. You're stronger than you think. And so am I. We'll get through this, somehow."

Spencer took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I love you, Y/N. More than anything."

"I love you too, Spence," she whispered, her voice breaking. "That's why this hurts so much."

—

Y/N stumbled down the street, tears streaming down her face. She didn’t care that she had abandoned her parents at the restaurant or that she probably looked crazy. She couldn’t bear the weight of the conversation with Spencer any longer. Her heart ached with the realization of how deeply she had hurt him, and now she felt lost, not knowing what to do next. She needed someone to talk to, someone who could offer her guidance. Without much thought, she found herself walking toward the Hotchner household, seeking out Haley.

When she arrived, Haley opened the door, her face filled with concern upon seeing Y/N’s tear-streaked face. She immediately welcomed her inside, guiding her to the living room and offering her a comforting hug.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? What happened?” Haley asked gently, leading her to the couch.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. “I don’t know what to do, Haley. Spencer and I… we just had a huge fight. He’s so hurt, and I feel like everything is my fault. My parents want me to go back home with them, but I don’t know if that’s the right thing to do. I love Spencer so much, but I don’t want to keep hurting him. But… I’m also hurting so bad right now. I don’t know if I can go back to my normal life.”

Haley nodded, listening intently. “Relationships are hard, Y/N. They’re ever-changing, and you have to grow together each year. It’s not always easy, but if you really love someone, you find a way to make it work.”

Y/N looked up at Haley, her eyes searching for reassurance. “Do you really think Spencer and I can get through this? Do you think we’re right for each other?”

Haley smiled softly. “I haven’t seen two people so perfect for each other in a long time. Aaron and I have talked about it, and we both agree that we’ve never seen Spencer glow like he does when he talks about you. He’s happier, more at ease. Aaron even noticed that he picks at his fingers less, doesn’t get as many migraines, and talks to his mom more since you came into his life. You’ve made a huge impact on him.”

Y/N’s heart swelled with emotion, but doubt still lingered. “But what if I can’t fix this? What if he never forgives me?”

Haley squeezed her hand reassuringly. “You have to try, Y/N. Relationships aren’t about being perfect; they’re about loving each other through the imperfections. Spencer loves you, and you love him. That’s a strong foundation to build on. It’s going to take time and effort, but if you both want it, you can make it work.”

Y/N wiped away her tears, feeling a glimmer of hope. “Thank you, Haley. I needed to hear that.”

Haley smiled warmly. “Anytime, Y/N. Just remember, it’s okay to ask for help and lean on the people who care about you. You don't have to be alone in this.”

Y/N nodded, “Haley, I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I’ve already hurt him so much. What if he doesn’t want to give us another chance?”

Haley took a deep breath, her expression serious yet compassionate. “Y/N, Spencer loves you. That kind of love doesn’t just disappear. Yes, he’s hurt, and it might take time for him to heal. But he’s also strong and capable of forgiveness. The key is showing him that you’re committed to making things right.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes filled with uncertainty. “But how do I do that? How do I prove to him that I’m not going to run away again?”

Haley leaned forward, her gaze intense. “You have to be honest with him, Y/N. About everything. Tell him why you’re thinking about leaving, what you are feeling, and what you want for the future. He needs to understand that your decision to leave isn’t because you don’t love him, but because you are scared and confused.”

Y/N wiped away another tear, her heart heavy with regret. “I should have talked to him instead of running away. I see that now. But I was so afraid that he wouldn’t understand, that he would see me as weak.”

Haley’s expression softened, and she reached out to gently squeeze Y/N’s hand. “We all have moments of weakness, Y/N. It’s part of being human. But it’s how we deal with those moments that define us. Spencer doesn’t see you as weak; he sees you as someone he loves deeply. And if you’re willing to fight for your relationship, he will see that too.”

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions. “Do you really think he’ll give me another chance?”

Haley smiled, her eyes filled with reassurance. “I do. But you have to be patient. And from what I’ve seen, you and Spencer have something truly special.”

Y/N clung to Haley, grateful for her support and guidance. She knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but with Haley’s words echoing in her mind, she felt ready to face the challenges and fight for the love she and Spencer shared.

She still had a big decision to make.

—

Spencer, his face streaked with tears, knocked on Emily's apartment door with a heavy heart. He didn't know where else to turn. Emily had always been like a big sister to him, someone who could offer the comfort and perspective he desperately needed. And he didn’t want Derek to see him cry.

Emily opened the door, her concern evident the moment she saw him. "Spencer, what happened?" she asked, stepping aside to let him in.

Without a word, Spencer walked in and collapsed onto her couch, his body wracked with sobs. Emily sat beside him, offering a comforting presence. Sergio, her cat, sensed the tension and padded over, nuzzling against Spencer's leg.

Spencer reached down to stroke Sergio, the gentle purring providing a small, welcome distraction from his overwhelming emotions. After a few moments, he began to speak, his voice choked with grief. "Emily, I don't understand. She’s thinking about leaving. She didn't even tell me she was considering it. I thought we were working things out."

Emily's eyes widened in surprise. "Who’s thinking about leaving? Y/N? Y/N's thinking about leaving? What do you mean, Spencer? I had no idea she was even considering it."

Spencer looked up, his eyes red and swollen. "She’s been talking to her parents about moving back home with them. She’s so hurt, Emily. She doesn’t feel safe here anymore. And now, she’s thinking about going back because she thinks it’s the only way to heal."

Emily listened intently, her heart aching for her friend. "Spencer, I know this is incredibly hard for you. But you have to remember, Y/N's situation is different. She went through something traumatic. It's not like facing unsubs for us."

Spencer looked up, his eyes red and swollen. "But why didn't she talk to me? Why didn't she trust me enough to share her fears? I've faced danger too, and I never thought about leaving."

Emily reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Spencer, what we do for a living isn't normal. We’re trained to handle these situations. Y/N isn’t. Her job was about helping people, not facing life-threatening dangers every day. It’s not about her not trusting you. It’s about her needing to feel safe and in control of her own life again."

Spencer nodded, trying to understand, but the pain was still raw. "I just... I feel so helpless. I love her so much, and I can't stand the thought of losing her. It feels like she's giving up on us."

Emily sighed, pulling him into a gentle hug. "Spencer, she's not giving up on you. She's trying to heal in the only way she knows how. It doesn't mean she doesn't love you. She just needs time and space to figure things out."

Sergio climbed onto Spencer's lap, curling up and purring louder. Spencer stroked the cat absentmindedly, finding a small measure of comfort in the simple act. "I just wish I could understand her better. I want to support her, but I don't know how."

Emily gave him a reassuring smile. "You already are supporting her by trying to understand. Give her time, and give yourself time too. Healing isn't a straight path, and it's okay to feel lost right now."

Spencer nodded, the tears still flowing but his heart a little lighter. 

After leaving Emily's apartment, Spencer found himself wandering through the quiet streets, his thoughts a tangled mess of emotions. The night air was cool, but it did little to calm the storm raging inside him. Emily's words had brought some clarity, but the pain and confusion remained.

As he walked, Spencer's mind kept returning to Y/N. Her smile, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she loved, the comfort he felt in her presence – all of it played on a loop in his mind. He couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal, but underneath that was a deeper, more painful emotion: fear. Fear of losing her, fear of being alone again, fear of never finding that same connection with anyone else.

He thought about the nights they spent together, talking about everything and nothing, the way she made him feel understood in a way no one else ever had. She had become his safe place, his anchor in a world that often felt overwhelming. The idea of her leaving, of not having her in his life, was unbearable.

Spencer stopped by a park bench and sat down, burying his face in his hands. He felt tears welling up again, and he let them fall freely. Why can't I fix this? he thought. Why can't I make her see that she doesn't have to run away to heal?

He remembered their early days together, how effortlessly they had clicked, how natural it had felt to be with her. They had shared so many dreams and hopes for the future, and now it all seemed to be slipping away. He couldn't understand why she hadn't come to him, why she had kept her fears and plans hidden until now. It felt like a betrayal, but he also knew that she was hurting in ways he couldn't fully comprehend.

Maybe I'm not enough for her, he thought, the doubt creeping in. Maybe she needs more than I can give. The idea of her moving back home, starting a new life without him, was a knife to his heart. But he couldn't force her to stay, couldn't make her see things his way. All he could do was be there for her, support her in whatever decision she made, even if it meant letting her go.

He wiped his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I love you, Y/N," he whispered into the night. "And I will always love you, no matter what happens. I just wish you could see how much I need you, how much we need each other."

The thought of her leaving still tore him apart, but he knew he had to respect her choices, even if it broke his heart. As he stood up to head home, he made a silent vow to himself: to be the best partner he could be, to support her through her pain, and to hope that, in time, they could find their way back to each other.

—

The BAU team was exhausted as they stepped off the jet, the weight of their latest case still heavy on their shoulders. It had been a grueling two weeks, filled with sleepless nights and relentless days. Yet, for Spencer Reid, the exhaustion went beyond the physical. His heartache was evident to everyone, casting a shadow over the team's usual camaraderie.

Spencer barely acknowledged anyone as they made their way to their desks. His eyes were sunken, dark circles prominent under them, and his shoulders slumped with an invisible weight. The team exchanged worried glances, their concern for him palpable. Spencer’s usual spark was missing, replaced by a haunting emptiness.

Hotch noticed Spencer's avoidance and knew why. He himself had struggled with the knowledge of Y/N's final decision. The unspoken tension between them was thick, neither willing to confront the painful truth just yet.

Emily watched Spencer with a heavy heart. She had seen him hurt before, but this was different. The loss of Y/N had gutted him in a way that no other personal tragedy had. She approached him gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Spence, you holding up?" she asked softly.

Spencer forced a small, tired smile. "Yeah, I'm fine," he lied, his voice hollow. "Just tired."

Derek, sitting nearby, shook his head. "We’re all tired, man, but this isn’t just about the case, is it?" His voice was filled with a mix of concern and frustration. "You don't have to pretend with us."

Spencer glanced around, his eyes briefly meeting each of theirs. He knew they cared, knew they wanted to help, but the pain was too raw, too personal. "I just need some time," he said quietly, his gaze dropping to his desk. "I'll be okay."

JJ, standing by Hotch's office, crossed her arms and frowned. "Spence, we’re your family. Lean on us. We’re here for you, no matter what."

Hotch, who had been silently observing, stepped forward. "Take some time off, Spencer. Go home, rest. We’ve got things covered here."

Spencer nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He grabbed his bag and made his way out, feeling the weight of their concern following him. As he exited the building, he couldn't shake the image of Y/N from his mind, wondering if she was still in Quantico or if she had already left for good.

Back inside, the team watched him go, their hearts heavy with worry. Emily turned to Hotch. "Do you know if she’s still here?" she asked softly.

Hotch sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don’t know. She was supposed to make a decision while we were gone. I haven’t heard from her."

Penelope, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke up, her voice trembling. "I tried calling her, but she never answered. I didn’t want to invade her privacy by tracking her down, but... I’m so worried about both of them."

Rossi, leaning against his desk, shook his head. "Sometimes, love isn’t enough. They both have to want to fight for it. And right now, it seems like they’re both too hurt to see clearly."

The team nodded, knowing Rossi was right but still hoping for a miracle. They had seen Spencer at his best and his worst, and they weren’t ready to give up on him—or Y/N.

Meanwhile, Spencer wandered through the streets of Quantico, his mind a whirlwind of memories and emotions. He missed Y/N with every fiber of his being, but the fear of hearing she had left was paralyzing. He wanted to reach out to her, to beg her to stay, but he didn’t know if he could handle another rejection.

As he walked, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, his heart skipping a beat when he saw a message from Hotch.

Spencer, I know you’re struggling. If you need to talk, I’m here. Don’t shut us out.

Spencer stared at the message, feeling a surge of emotion. He typed a quick response, Thanks, Hotch. I’ll be okay, before shoving his phone back in his pocket. He wasn’t ready to talk yet, but the offer of support meant more than he could express.

Spencer walked the entire way home, his mind a tangled web of thoughts and emotions. He needed the time to process everything that had happened over the past few weeks, to try and make sense of his feelings. As he approached his apartment building, he noticed a figure slumped against the wall near his door. His heart rate quickened with alarm, but as he drew closer, he saw the familiar green Converse sneakers and his breath caught in his throat.

It was Y/N.

She was sitting on the ground, her arms wrapped around her shins, her head resting on her knees. The sight of her there, vulnerable and broken, stirred a whirlwind of emotions within him. He felt an overwhelming surge of love and relief, but also a gnawing fear of reopening old wounds.

Spencer stood frozen for a moment, his mind racing. Should he approach her? What would he say? Would she welcome him or push him away? He felt a wave of doubt and uncertainty, but then he saw her shoulders shaking with silent sobs, and the decision was made for him.

Slowly, hesitantly, he walked toward her, his footsteps almost silent. He knelt down beside her, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch her shoulder. The moment his fingers brushed against her, she looked up, her tear-filled eyes meeting his. For a split second, time seemed to stand still, and all the hurt and confusion of the past weeks melted away, leaving only the profound connection between them.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

"Spence," she choked out, her voice cracking as fresh tears welled up in her eyes.

Spencer felt his heart swell with a mix of love and sorrow. Without another word, he gently helped her to her feet, their eyes never breaking contact. He could see the depth of her pain, the regret etched on her face, and it mirrored his own.

As they stood there, the night air cool around them, Spencer realized that he couldn't turn away from her. He couldn't let his fear and anger keep him from the person he loved most in the world. He took a deep breath, his resolve strengthening.

"Come inside," he said softly, guiding her towards the door. "Let's talk."

Y/N nodded, her fingers clutching his hand as if afraid he might disappear. They walked into the apartment in silence, the familiar surroundings bringing a sense of comfort and security. Spencer led her to the couch, where they both sat down, the tension between them palpable.

Spencer got up briefly to get them each a glass of water, hoping it would help calm their nerves. When he returned, he sat at one end of the couch, Y/N at the other. The distance between them felt like a chasm, a stark contrast to the closeness they once shared.

Y/N took a sip of her water, her hands shaking slightly. Finally, she broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't leave."

Spencer's eyes softened, his own heart aching with the weight of their shared pain. "You couldn't or you wouldn't?"

Y/N's gaze met his, filled with unshed tears. "I couldn't. I couldn't leave you."

Spencer set his glass down and moved a little closer, the emotional distance still lingering between them. "I was so scared, Y/N. Scared that you were leaving because I wasn’t enough, because I couldn’t protect you. I didn’t understand why you would go through something like that alone."

Y/N shook her head, her voice trembling as she spoke. "I thought I was protecting you, Spence. I thought leaving would make things easier for both of us, but I was wrong. I see that now."

Spencer's eyes held a mix of frustration and hurt. "You broke my trust, Y/N. You left without a word, without giving us a chance to face it together. Do you have any idea what that did to me?"

Y/N's tears spilled over, her voice breaking. "I know, and I'm so sorry. I was scared and confused, but that doesn’t excuse what I did. I thought I could handle it on my own, but I need you, Spencer. I need us."

Spencer took a deep breath, the pain in his chest easing slightly as he saw the sincerity in her eyes. He moved a little closer, closing some of the distance between them. "I want to believe you, Y/N. I really do. But it’s going to take time. I need to see that you mean what you say."

Y/N nodded, her heart heavy with regret but also filled with hope. "I understand, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. I love you, Spencer. More than anything."

Spencer looked at her, his own tears threatening to fall. "I love you too, Y/N. Let's take this one step at a time."

Y/N smiled through her tears, the first genuine smile she had felt in weeks. "One step at a time."

As they sat there, the weight of their emotions hanging in the air, they both felt a glimmer of hope. It wouldn't be easy, but they were willing to try. And in that moment, it was enough.

—

Spencer arrived at his desk, his mind still a whirlwind of emotions from the encounter with Y/N. He noticed an envelope sitting there, his name clearly scrawled in Y/N's familiar handwriting. His heart skipped a beat as he picked it up, fingers trembling slightly as he opened it.

Inside, he found a handwritten note from Y/N. Taking a deep breath, he began to read.

Spencer,

I know I’ve apologized before, but I need to do it again. I’m truly sorry for the pain I caused you, for breaking your trust and your heart. I can’t change the past, but I want to make things right. I want to start over, to rebuild what we had, if you’re willing to give me that chance.

I’m inviting you to a second first date. Just you and me, getting to know each other again. No pressure, no expectations, just a chance to see if we can find our way back to each other. Meet me at the park by the fountain at 6 PM on Saturday. If you don’t come, I’ll understand, but I hope you do.

Yours always,

Y/N

Spencer's heart raced as he read the note, his mind a mix of hope, fear, and uncertainty. As he sat there, contemplating what to do, he knew that he couldn’t let fear hold him back. This was a chance to rebuild, to see if the love they once shared could be rekindled. And for that, he was willing to take the risk.

Carefully folding the note, he placed it back in the envelope and slipped it into his jacket pocket. 

Spencer looked up from the note, momentarily startled by Derek's voice. He quickly tried to compose himself, but Derek had already caught the slight flush of color in Spencer's cheeks.

"What ya got there, pretty boy?" Derek asked, leaning against the edge of Spencer's desk with a teasing grin.

Spencer hesitated for a moment, his fingers still holding the envelope. He glanced down at it, then back up at Derek, deciding that honesty might be the best approach. "It's a note from Y/N," he said quietly, his voice betraying a mix of emotions.

Derek raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "A note from Y/N, huh? What does it say?"

Spencer sighed, feeling a bit vulnerable. "She apologized again and... she invited me to a second first date," he admitted, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth despite the turmoil inside.

Derek's grin widened. "A second first date? Sounds like she's really trying to make things right. How do you feel about that?"

Spencer glanced back at the note, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions. "I don't know, Derek. Part of me is still hurt and angry, but another part of me... I want to give it another chance. I miss her."

Derek nodded, his expression turning serious. "You’ve been through a lot, man. It's okay to be cautious, but it’s also okay to follow your heart. If you think there’s a chance to rebuild, then go for it. But do what feels right for you."

Spencer took a deep breath, appreciating Derek's support. "Thanks, Derek. I think I’ll give it a shot and see what happens."

Derek clapped him on the shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze. "Good for you, pretty boy."

— 

Y/N glanced at her watch again, her heart sinking as the minutes ticked by. It was 6:05 pm, and Spencer still hadn't shown up. She tried to keep her hope alive, but the longer she waited, the harder it became. She could already feel her heart breaking, the familiar ache of disappointment setting in.

Just as she was about to give up and call it a night, she heard the sound of hurried footsteps. She looked up to see Spencer jogging towards her, his face flushed and slightly out of breath. Relief and a flicker of hope filled her heart as he reached her, panting lightly.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," Spencer said between breaths, his eyes wide with sincerity and regret. "I couldn't decide if I wanted to come. But I’m here now."

Y/N's eyes softened, a mix of emotions swirling within her. "You came," she said, her voice a little shaky. "That's what matters."

Spencer took a deep breath, finally catching his breath. "I know I’ve been a mess, and I’ve struggled with everything that happened. But I couldn’t ignore this chance, Y/N. I couldn't let you slip away without trying."

Y/N nodded, feeling a tear escape and roll down her cheek. "I’m glad you’re here, Spencer."

Spencer stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "I miss you, Y/N. I miss us. Can we try to find our way back to each other?"

Y/N's heart swelled with hope and determination. "Yes, Spencer. We can try. We can start with this second first date and see where it takes us."

They stood there for a moment, the tension easing as they both felt the possibility of a fresh start. Spencer smiled, his nerves settling a bit. "Shall we?" he asked, offering her his arm.

Y/N smiled back, linking her arm with his. "Yes, let's."

Spencer looked at her curiously. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," she replied with a mysterious smile.

After a short walk, they arrived at a newly opened Thai restaurant. Spencer's eyes widened in surprise. "The Thai place! I've been wanting to try this for weeks. How did you know?"

Y/N smiled warmly. "I remember you mentioning it a while ago. I thought it would be a nice surprise."

Spencer's face lit up with a blend of joy and disbelief. "You remembered that?"

She chuckled, feeling a warm flutter in her chest. "I pay attention to the things you say, Spencer. You matter to me."

Once seated, Spencer noticed Y/N reaching into her bag. She pulled out a book and placed it on the table between them. It was a rare Russian literature book he had been searching for but couldn't find.

Spencer's jaw dropped. "How did you…? This book is almost impossible to find!"

Y/N grinned. "I have my ways."

Spencer felt his heart swell with emotion. "Y/N, this means so much to me. Thank you."

They ordered their food, and as they waited, they held hands over the table, their fingers intertwined. The nervousness of their first date mingled with the comfort of their familiar bond, creating a blend of excitement and warmth.

Spencer smiled, a touch of mischief in his eyes. "Remember our first date? I was so nervous, I almost spilled coffee all over myself."

Y/N laughed softly, squeezing his hand. "I remember. You were adorable. Still are, actually."

Spencer blushed, his gaze never leaving hers. "You make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world."

Their conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and shared memories. They talked about their favorite moments together, their hopes for the future, and the joy of reconnecting. Every glance, every touch, was a reaffirmation of their love.

"So, what else do you have planned for tonight?" Spencer asked, his voice playful.

Y/N smirked, leaning in closer. "You'll have to wait and see. But I promise, it’s something you'll love."

Spencer raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "You always know how to keep me on my toes."

When their food arrived, they eagerly dug in, sharing bites and savoring the flavors. The meal was delicious, and the ambiance was perfect. They were in their own little world, surrounded by the buzz of the restaurant but completely focused on each other.

Y/N took a sip of her drink and looked at Spencer with a teasing glint in her eye. "You know, I think this date is going pretty well. What do you think, Dr. Reid?"

Spencer grinned, playing along. "I think it's going exceptionally well, Dr. L/N. You certainly know how to impress. I can't believe you did all this for me. You've made tonight unforgettable," he said, his voice filled with emotion.

Y/N squeezed his hand. "I wanted to show you how much you mean to me, Spencer. I wanted to make things right."

Spencer leaned across the table and kissed her gently. "You have, Y/N. More than you know."

As Spencer and Y/N left the restaurant, the cool night air wrapped around them like a comforting blanket. They walked side by side, their hands naturally finding each other, fingers intertwining as if they had never been apart. The gentle pressure of their clasped hands sent a wave of warmth through Spencer, a silent reassurance that they were on the path to healing.

Y/N glanced up at him, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Do you remember the first time we walked home together?" she asked, her voice filled with nostalgia.

Spencer chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I do. I was so nervous, I kept stumbling over my words."

Y/N laughed softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "I thought it was cute how flustered you got. I was secretly hoping you'd ask me to hold your hand, just like this."

Spencer blushed, shaking his head with a grin. "I was terrified I’d say something stupid and ruin everything. You were just so pretty, I couldn’t form a single coherent thought."

"Oh, I was pretty, was I? What am I now, then?" Y/N teased, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at him.

Spencer's smile widened, and he leaned in a little closer, his eyes locking with hers. "Now? Now you're absolutely breathtaking," he replied softly, his tone filled with sincerity.

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words. "Breathtaking, huh? You really do know how to make a girl feel special."

Spencer chuckled, his hand gently squeezing hers. "Well, it’s the truth. Every time I see you, I’m reminded of how lucky I am."

Y/N's cheeks flushed, and she playfully nudged him. "You always were the charmer, Spencer Reid."

Spencer grinned, feeling more confident with each passing moment. "Only for you, Y/N. Only for you."

Spencer leaned in completely, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s. He hesitated for just a moment, as if seeking her silent permission, and then closed the distance between them. His lips met hers in a gentle, tender kiss, filled with all the emotions they had both been holding back. It was a kiss of longing, of apology, and of hope.

Y/N’s heart soared as she kissed him back, her hands resting on his chest. The world around them seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of them in this perfect moment. She felt the warmth of his love and the sincerity of his feelings in every soft movement of his lips.

When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless. Spencer rested his forehead against hers, a small, contented smile playing on his lips. "I’ve missed you too, Y/N. More than you can imagine."

"Hmm, no, I think I have a pretty good idea." Y/N said softly. 

They continued walking, their conversation filled with lighthearted banter and shared memories. Spencer looked down at Y/N, admiring the way her hair shimmered under the streetlights.

"You know, you look absolutely stunning tonight," he said, his voice sincere.

Y/N laughed, her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. "You’re just saying that because I’m wearing your favorite dress."

Spencer shook his head, his smile tender. "The dress doesn’t hurt, but it's you that takes my breath away."

Y/N grinned, placing her fingers on his wrist in a mock serious manner. "Hmm, seems like you might be in love, Dr. Reid. It’s a common side effect of spending time with me."

Spencer laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "I think I might need a second opinion."

"Pretty sure I’m the best in the business," Y/N teased back, her eyes twinkling. "But if you insist on another opinion, you might have to wait until Monday."

"Then I’ll just have to trust your diagnosis, Doctor," Spencer said, pulling her a little closer as they walked. "I must admit, I like the symptoms."

"Good," Y/N replied, feeling her heart swell with happiness. "Because I plan on being your personal physician for a very long time."

Their walk continued in comfortable silence, punctuated by the occasional shared glance and squeeze of hands. The night was peaceful, and they both felt a sense of rightness, as if the universe had finally aligned in their favor.

As they neared Y/N's doorstep, she looked up at Spencer, her heart racing with anticipation and hope. "Spence… you can say no, but do you want to come in?" she asked, her voice soft and hopeful.

Spencer looked into her eyes, his own filled with a mix of love and anticipation. “More than anything,” he replied, a gentle smile spreading across his face.

Y/N's heart fluttered as she unlocked the door and led him inside. The warmth of her apartment enveloped them, and she felt a sense of rightness wash over her. They stood in the entryway for a moment, the air between them charged with unspoken emotions.

Spencer leaned in, his lips capturing Y/N’s in a deep, sensual kiss. The intensity of his touch made Y/N’s heart race. She responded eagerly, her hands sliding up to his shoulders, pulling him closer. Spencer’s hands found their way to her waist, holding her firmly yet tenderly.

The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate. Spencer’s fingers traced the curve of her spine, sending shivers down her back. Y/N’s hands moved to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as she pressed herself against him.

“Y/N,” Spencer murmured against her lips, his voice filled with desire.

“Yes, Spence?” she whispered back, her breath hitching as his lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

“I want you,” he confessed, his voice raw with emotion.

“I want you too,” Y/N replied, her voice trembling with anticipation.

They moved together, their bodies speaking the unspoken words between them. Y/N’s hands roamed over Spencer’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. Spencer’s hands slid over her ass, his touch gentle yet insistent.

As their lips met again in a fervent kiss, Spencer pulled her, tugging her to the couch. He pushed her down gently, their kisses never breaking. Y/N’s hands explored his back, her nails lightly grazing his skin, eliciting a soft groan from him.

Spencer’s mouth found its way to her throat, and he gently bit down, making Y/N moan. Her breath quickened, and she arched into his touch, wanting more. Spencer’s other hand slid up her thigh, his touch both teasing and electrifying.

“Please, Spence,” Y/N gasped, her body aching for his touch.

Spencer responded by brushing his fingers along the seam of her tights, his touch sending waves of pleasure through her. Y/N’s fingers dug into his shoulders, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

“Wait, wait, Spencer,” Y/N panted as she pushed him back slightly, her breath ragged.

Spencer’s eyes widened, panic flashing across his features. “Are you…are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, baby,” Y/N quickly reassured him, cupping his face in her hands. “I just want to make sure you’re really ready for this.”

Relief washed over Spencer’s face, but he still looked uncertain. “I’m really ready, Y/N, but…I need you to show me what to do.”

Y/N smiled gently, her fingers tracing his jawline. “We’ll take it slow, okay? We’ll go at your pace.”

Spencer nodded, his eyes locked onto hers. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice trembling slightly.

Y/N guided his hands to the waistband of her tights, helping him pull them off. Spencer left light sucking kisses down Y/N’s exposed thighs as he pulled her tights off. Y/N squirmed where she lied on the couch, so overwhelmed by having Spencer’s beautiful mouth on her.

Spencer looked up at Y/N with begging eyes, not knowing where to go next. She took his hand, showing him how to touch her over her panties, where to rub her clit and how much pressure to apply. She whispered encouragement, her own excitement building as Spencer gained confidence. His touch grew surer, more deliberate, each movement guided by her soft instructions and their mutual desire.

“Like this?” Spencer asked, his voice low and filled with awe as he rubbed her clit with intense focus.

“Yes, exactly like that,” Y/N moaned softly, her body responding to his touch.

Spencer’s fingers moved to the waistband of her panties, pulling them off as well. His lips followed her whispered directions of sucking on the skin behind her ear. Y/N’s clit throbbed with the lack of touch, her body thrumming and arching against his. Spencer’s eyes darkened with passion, his love for her driving him to learn quickly.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his concern evident even in his desire. Spencer’s eyes glimmered in excitement. “Can I touch you again?”

“God, yes please, Spence,” Y/N responded, her voice full of anticipation and desperation.

“Oh, oh my god, you’re so wet. Is this just from me?” Spencer’s tone was a blend of amazement and disbelief, his fingers trembling slightly.

“Yes, all from you, for you,” Y/N confirmed, her own breath catching at the intensity of his touch. “Only you.”

Spencer’s hands moved with newfound confidence, fingers finding Y/N’s clit again, this time without the barrier of her panties. Y/N cries out at the feeling of his rough fingers rubbing her sensitive bud with the dexterity of someone who has done this a million times.

Y/N sits up slightly, alarming Spencer, but before he can pull away or ask if she’s okay, she whips her dress over her head. Baring her chest to Spencer, she looks at him with a mixture of vulnerability and boldness. Spencer's eyes widen, his cock hardening in desire.

Spencer's breath hitched as he took in the sight of her. She was beautiful, and the intimacy of the moment left him awestruck. His hands moved with a newfound confidence, tracing the curves of her body with reverence. The warmth of her skin against his palms sent shivers down his spine.

"Y/N," he breathes out, his voice thick with emotion. "You’re… even more beautiful than I remember."

She smiles, her confidence bolstered by his reaction. "I want you to feel comfortable with me, Spence. No more holding back."

Spencer's hands gently glide over her breast, his touch reverent and filled with awe. "I’ve never seen anything so perfect."

Y/N's heart swells with love and desire. "We’re perfect together, Spencer."

With a deep feeling of love and comfort, Spencer removes his shirt as well. He may still be a virgin, but Y/N has never made him feel pressured or like something was wrong with him. He pulls back completely, stands to remove both his pants and his briefs, feeling vulnerable yet confident in their connection. Now matching Y/N, he takes a deep breath, his eyes filled with desire.

As he stands there bare, Spencer feels a whirlwind of emotions. His heart races with anticipation, his nerves tingling with excitement and apprehension. The room feels charged with electricity, each moment stretching into infinity. He looks at Y/N, seeing her beauty and the depth of her love reflected in her eyes, and he feels a surge of gratitude and affection.

"Let's move to the bedroom," he suggests, his voice gentle yet demanding.

Spencer gently guided Y/N to her bedroom, the dim light casting soft shadows across the room. The bed, covered in a quilt Y/N had made herself, felt inviting and warm. The scent of lavender lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of their favorite Thai dishes from dinner. As they stood by the bed, the sounds of their breathing filled the room, heavy with anticipation and desire.

Spencer's heart pounded in his chest, a mix of nervousness and excitement coursing through him. This was his first time, and the weight of the moment was not lost on him. His mind raced with thoughts, but the overwhelming sense of connection with Y/N anchored him, guiding his actions with love and sincerity.

Y/N's eyes locked with his, a reassuring smile playing on her lips. She reached up, brushing her fingers through his hair, her touch calming his nerves. "Spence," she whispered, her voice soft and filled with affection, "it's just us. There's no rush. Let's just be together."

Spencer nodded, his eyes reflecting the depth of his emotions. "I want this to be perfect for you," he confessed, his voice trembling slightly.

Y/N's smile widened, her heart swelling with love for him. "It already is, I love you so much."

"I love you too, Y/N," he replies, his voice thick with emotion. "I've never felt this way before. You've shown me what it means to truly be loved."

“Oh, Spence,” Y/N’s lip trembled, her eyes filled with a hint of tears. The depth of emotion between them was palpable, a beautiful blend of tenderness and desire.

Finally, Spencer brought his body back to Y/N’s, his eyes locked onto hers as he entered his fingers inside her with a mix of anticipation and tenderness. Y/N's eyes fluttered closed, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she felt Spencer's movement. 

She could sense his nervousness, his eagerness to make this moment perfect for both of them. "You're doing so well, Spence," she whispered, her voice filled with love and reassurance. “Fuck your fingers feel so good, so long,” she whines.

Spencer's heart swelled at her words, a rush of blood flooding his cock. He knew he wouldn’t last long once he was inside Y/N, but he felt himself care less and less as she proved her devotion and care for him.

“I’m ready, baby, I’m so ready, I need to feel you,” Y/N murmured, her voice thick with desire.

“Okay, okay, shit, me too,” Spencer replied, his heart pounding in his chest. He could hardly believe this was happening. Every nerve in his body was alive with sensation, and his mind was a whirlwind of emotions—anticipation, fear, love. As he moved closer to Y/N, he felt a surge of gratitude for her patience and understanding. This moment was more than physical; it was a profound expression of their bond, a step towards healing and rebuilding trust.

As Spencer slowly entered his cock inside of Y/N, he knew he was done for. No one and nothing would ever compare.

They moved together so fluidly, like lovers who would find each other in every lifetime. Her gentle encouragement and the way she responded to his touch filled him with a sense of confidence and belonging. He knew he was exactly where he was meant to be, with the person who understood and cherished him completely.

Their movements became more synchronized, their breaths mingling in the space between them. Spencer's nerves began to melt away, replaced by a growing sense of connection and intimacy. Each touch, each whispered word, was a reassurance, a reminder of the deep bond they shared.

Y/N's soft moans and the way she held him close only fueled Spencer's determination to make this moment special. He marveled at the way their bodies fit together, how her warmth and softness seemed to envelop him, grounding him in the reality of their love.

Finally, as they reached their peak together, Spencer held Y/N tightly, their bodies trembling in unison. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in the afterglow of their shared experience.

Y/N looked up at Spencer, her eyes shining with tears of happiness. “I love you so much,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

Spencer gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, his heart swelling with adoration. “I love you too,” he replied, his voice tender. “This was perfect.”

They lay together, their bodies entwined, basking in the warmth and love that surrounded them. In that moment, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, stronger and more connected than ever before.

The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them in this cocoon of intimacy. Spencer's senses were heightened, every touch and sensation amplified by the intensity of their connection. He felt a profound sense of gratitude and love, knowing that Y/N was sharing this moment with him, making him feel whole and complete.

a/n: N is for New Years by @spencereidluver is what inspired me to write more smut for this story! their work is amazing, check it out!!

masterlist ♡

my requests are open! i'm comfortable writing for any sexuality, gender, and/or specified reader preference! my basic model is a fem!reader x male!character because that is how i myself identify and who i am attracted to -- so if you want something else just lmk!! <33

click here for my taglist :)

꩜ -- angst ♡ -- fluff ꕥ -- smut

Spencer Reid

Series

★ Bridges to Belonging ꩜ ♡ ꕥ— Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six (18+) Part Seven (18+)

★ Finding Home Again ꩜ ♡ ꕥ— Part One Part Two (18+)

-- -- -- Extras -- Jeans ♡ ꕥ Migraines ꩜ ♡ Bar ♡ Stood Up ꩜

★ i love you ꩜ ♡ ꕥ— Part One Part Two

★ Short Shorts & Long Hair ꩜ ♡— Part One Part Two

★ Too Sweet ꩜ ♡ ꕥ — Part One Part Two Part Three

★ Make You Feel My Love ꩜ — Part One Part Two Part Three

★ Something Better ꩜ — Part One Part Two

★ Breaking Point ꩜ ♡ — Part One Part Two

★ Too Damn Young ꩜ ♡ ꕥ — Part One Part Two

★ Red ꩜ ♡ ꕥ — Part One Part Two

★ Lost in Translation ꩜ ♡ ꕥ — Part One

One Shots

Whispers in the Dark ꩜ ♡ ꕥ

Set 'Em Up, and Knock 'Em Down ꩜ ꕥ

Needy ♡ ꕥ

Capturing the Queen ♡ ꕥ

Sweet & Sour Motivation ꩜ ♡ ꕥ

Moving Forward ꩜ ♡

Love in the Club ♡ ꕥ

Lost & Found ꩜ ♡

Strawberry Lemonade ♡

Not Her ꩜ ♡

Ghost of You ꩜ ♡ ꕥ

Textual Tension ♡ ꕥ

Hookups & Holdouts ꩜ ♡

Better Late Than Never ♡

Illicit Affairs ꩜ ♡

No More Misunderstandings ♡

Forever & Always ꩜ ♡ ꕥ

Blurbs

Silent Echos ꩜

Second Chances and Serendipity ♡

Ink Impressions ♡

Love in the Details ♡

The Hardest Goodbye ꩜

Ride 'Em Cowgirl ♡

Home in Jeans ♡ ꕥ

Car Wash ♡

They Were Never You ꩜ ♡

Rewritten Plans ꩜ ♡

Dare Ya ♡

Cream Cardigan ♡

Picture You ♡

Tummy ꩜ ♡

Home with Migraines ꩜ ♡

Matchmaker ♡

Always You ꩜ ♡

Home From The Bar ♡

Bedroom Eyes ♡

Federal Beach Investigation ♡

Stood Up & Home ꩜

Good Boy ꕥ

Asks

A Gentle Embrace ♡

Southern Charm ♡

Cinephile ♡

Where We Were Meant To Be ꩜ ♡

Love Doctor ♡

Not Strong Enough ꩜ ♡

Birthday Surprise ♡ ꕥ

Technicalities ꩜ ♡ ꕥ

Lucky ꩜ ♡

I Love You, I'm Sorry ꩜ ♡

Languages of Love ♡

Finding Home Again: Part One

Summary: Y/N meets Spencer Reid when she is 11-years-old, her older brother, Adam, is his classmate and friend. They reconnect at Adam's wedding.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst, one bed trope

Warnings/Includes: mild bullying, name calling, bisexual spencer reid (it's canon to me), wedding activities, swimming in underwear, alcohol consumption, reader wears a dress, suggestive content (16+), commitment issues, emotionally unavailable parents, bad relationship with parents, confrontation

Word count: 12.4k

a/n: part two is here!!

main masterlist

Spencer Reid was a terrified 8-year-old freshman in high school. As he navigated the crowded hallways, his small frame was easily overlooked, but his presence still drew strange looks and whispered comments. He felt extremely uncomfortable and out of place, his heart pounding with every step. By the end of the day, he still hadn't had a single student offer any help or kindness to him. 

His last class of the day was Algebra 2, and he felt a flicker of hope. Math had always been his sanctuary, a place where numbers and equations made sense when nothing else did. When he walked into the classroom, he noticed that there was assigned seating. Relief washed over him; at least he wouldn't have to struggle to find somewhere to sit.

As everyone got settled in, Spencer found his assigned seat next to a tall, friendly-looking boy. Before he had a chance to take out his notebook, the boy turned to him and smiled warmly.

"I'm Adam," he said, extending his hand for a handshake.

Spencer looked at the hand and then back up at Adam, feeling a wave of anxiety. "Hi, I'm Spencer, and I don't shake hands," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Adam laughed, not in a mean way, but with genuine amusement. "Hi, Spencer who doesn't shake hands. It's nice to meet you."

Spencer felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. For the first time that day, he felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, high school wouldn't be so bad after all.

— 

Y/N had spent the past few years immersed in the bustling streets and rich culture of Paris, attending a prestigious boarding school that promised to refine her language skills and broaden her horizons. Yet, despite the allure of the City of Light, she often felt the sting of loneliness, her parents' distance echoing even across the ocean. Now, at age 11, she was returning home a month earlier than the American school year ended, her heart a mix of exhaustion and anticipation.

As the chauffeur-driven car pulled up to the grand but cold mansion in the suburbs of Las Vegas, Y/N's heart sank. She had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that her parents would be there to greet her. Instead, the familiar figure of their chauffeur, Robert, was the one to open the car door.

"Welcome home, Miss Y/N," he said with a polite smile.

She forced a smile in return, hiding her disappointment. "Thank you, Robert."

Dragging her feet along the paved path, she entered the house, its opulence doing little to warm the cold emptiness she felt. She made her way to the living room, hoping to find solace in the familiarity of home, but instead, she was met with the unexpected sight of her brother, Adam, and a group of his friends, hunched over textbooks and notebooks.

"Hey, Y/N!" Adam greeted her with a grin, looking up from his textbook. "Welcome back!"

"Hi," she replied, her voice flat. She was too tired and too upset to muster any enthusiasm. Her eyes scanned the room, seeing the familiar faces of her brother's friends that she’d seen in pictures he’d sent. When her eyes finally landed on a boy who was clearly much younger than the rest, with tousled brown hair and a slightly awkward demeanor. He looked up, meeting her gaze with a mixture of curiosity and shyness.

“Who are you?” Y/N hadn’t meant to be rude, she was just slightly shocked to see someone her own age among the older boys.

"This is Spencer," Adam introduced, gesturing to the boy. "Spencer, this is my sister, Y/N. She just got back from Paris."

"Hi," Spencer said softly, offering a small, tentative smile.

"Hi," Y/N replied, her frustration momentarily forgotten as she took in the boy who seemed as out of place in their luxurious home as she felt. "Nice to meet you."

"Sorry we're invading the living room," Adam said, noticing her weariness. "We're just cramming for finals. Spencer here is a genius when it comes to math and science, so he's been helping us out."

Y/N nodded, her exhaustion catching up with her. "It's fine. I just need to rest, so please, no screaming about fractions."

She turned to head upstairs, her feet thudding against each step as she climbed. She couldn't help but feel a pang of envy towards the study group, wishing she had that kind of camaraderie during her time in Paris. They didn’t take well to American’s, no matter how long she was there nor how fluent she spoke. But more than anything, she wished her parents had cared enough to be there when she came home.

—

The summer before his senior year stretched out long and hot, with the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the hum of cicadas. Adam, now balancing a job cleaning pools and the pressures of preparing for SATs, ACTs, and college applications, found his days filled to the brim. He wasn't working for the money; his parents' wealth ensured he never had to worry about that. But he wanted to break free from the golden cage, to carve out a future where he wasn’t reliant on his parents.

Y/N watched from the sidelines as her brother’s schedule became increasingly packed. She missed the days when they would goof around together, but understood that Adam had his own life to lead. Meanwhile, Spencer Reid found himself spending more and more time with Adam. Spencer wasn't old enough to work yet, but his days were equally busy with preparations for the same academic hurdles.

One hot afternoon, Adam and Spencer were sitting on the back porch, textbooks and notes spread out between them. Adam was explaining a particularly tricky math problem, his hair falling into his eyes as he spoke. Spencer listened intently, his eyes occasionally flicking up to Adam's face, a subtle admiration in his gaze.

"Got it?" Adam asked, looking over at Spencer with a friendly smile.

Spencer nodded, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "Yeah, thanks. You're really good at explaining things."

Adam laughed lightly, clapping Spencer on the back. "No problem, buddy. We make a good team, huh?"

Spencer's heart skipped a beat at the casual touch, his mind racing with unspoken feelings. "Yeah, we do."

Their interactions were always like this—simple, friendly, but with an undercurrent of something more for Spencer. He couldn't help the crush that had developed, even though he knew it was impossible. Adam was older, focused on his future, and saw Spencer as a friend, maybe even a little brother.

One day, as they were packing up their study materials, Adam glanced over at Spencer. "Hey, thanks for helping me stay on track this summer. I know I’ve been busy, but it’s been cool hanging out with you."

Spencer smiled, the words warming his heart. "It's been cool for me too. I’ve learned a lot."

"You're gonna ace those tests, no doubt," Adam said with a confident grin. "And who knows, maybe we'll end up at the same college."

Spencer's eyes lit up at the thought, but he quickly tempered his excitement, not wanting to seem too eager. "Yeah, that would be great."

As Adam slung his bag over his shoulder and headed inside, Spencer lingered on the porch for a moment, watching him go. He knew his feelings for Adam would likely never be reciprocated, but he cherished these moments of closeness, however fleeting they might be.

Y/N observed all this from her bedroom window, a quiet observer to the crush Spencer clearly had on her older brother. She felt the green monster of jealousy coil up inside of her. Why doesn’t Spencer look at her like that? Is she not as smart as Adam? Not as funny? Maybe he only likes older people.

One particularly warm day, Spencer was over to help Adam revise an application essay. They were hanging out by the pool, both to Spencer's excitement and frustration. He didn't want to take his shirt off in front of Adam; he was so scrawny compared to the man Adam was becoming. He didn't even have hair under his arms yet! Spencer found himself getting worked up over the muscle Adam had put on while cleaning pools, feeling increasingly self-conscious.

"Hey, I'm going to grab some lemonade," Spencer said, trying to keep his voice steady as he got up from his lounge chair.

Adam looked up from his notes and nodded. "Sure thing, grab some for me too, will ya?"

Spencer nodded and walked briskly into the house, his thoughts a whirl of admiration and insecurity. As he poured himself a glass of lemonade, having kindly turned down the offer from one of the kitchen staff to do it for him, Y/N walked into the kitchen in a swimsuit. She knew what she was doing; she wanted to see if Spencer would look at her like he did her brother.

"Hi, Spencer," she greeted, her voice casual but her eyes searching.

Spencer almost dropped the pitcher, startled by her sudden appearance. "H-hi, Y/N..."

"How’s it going? Is it hot out there?" she asked, leaning against the counter with an air of nonchalance.

"Mhm, it's hot and, uh, yeah, good. You?" Spencer stammered, trying to keep his eyes on her face and not let them wander. Stupid hormones.

"I'm good, bored. Think I'm gonna go for a swim," Y/N replied, giving him a pointed look.

Spencer swallowed hard, feeling his face heat up. "Oh, cool. Swimming sounds nice."

Y/N nodded. "You should join me sometime. It’s a good way to cool off, especially on days like this."

"I, uh, maybe," Spencer managed, his voice cracking slightly.

She smiled at him. "Well, I'll be out there if you change your mind."

With that, she turned and walked out towards the pool, leaving Spencer standing there, his heart racing. He couldn't help but feel a confusing mix of emotions. He liked Y/N; she was kind and funny in her own way. But his feelings for Adam were something different, something he couldn't quite understand or control.

As he walked back outside with the lemonade, he caught sight of Y/N cannonballing into the pool. Adam looked up and waved Spencer over, oblivious to the tension Spencer was feeling.

"Thanks, man," Adam said, taking the glass from Spencer. "You should take a dip too. Y/N's got the right idea; it's a great way to beat the heat."

Spencer nodded, trying to smile. "Maybe later."

He sat back down, trying to focus on the essay in front of him, but his mind kept wandering. He glanced over at Y/N, who was swimming leisurely, and then at Adam, who was scribbling notes in the margin of his paper. Spencer felt like he was caught in the middle of something he didn't quite understand, struggling to find his place in the dynamics of this family that had become so important to him.

—

The day of Adam's graduation was filled with a whirlwind of emotions. Adam, ever the unexpected, had committed to Florida State, a decision that had shocked and horrified many. Spencer could hardly believe it when he heard the news. Florida State, a school notorious for its party culture, seemed an odd choice for someone who had always been so focused on academics. But Adam was a party boy through and through, and now, with the immense college fund his parents had set up for him, he had the freedom to choose his own path.

That night, Adam's family mansion was abuzz with a grand celebration party. The opulent rooms were filled with friends, family, and well-wishers, all toasting to Adam's future. Spencer, though trying to be happy for his friend, felt a gnawing sense of sadness and anxiety. Graduating at only 12-years-old and moving away to college meant leaving behind the only family that had ever felt like his.

As the party continued, Spencer found himself feeling more and more overwhelmed. Seeking solace, he looked around for Y/N. He found her standing by the grand staircase, looking as though she was taking a brief respite from the festivities.

"Y/N," he called softly, and she turned to him, her eyes filled with concern at his slightly panicked appearance.

"Hey, Spencer," she said gently, sensing his turmoil. "Do you want to go outside?"

Spencer nodded, grateful for her intuition. She led him out of the mansion and into the expansive garden. The night air was cool and soothing, and the garden was a haven of tranquility away from the noise of the party. They walked in silence for a while, the stars twinkling above them like scattered diamonds.

Y/N finally stopped at a secluded spot, a bench under a large oak tree. She sat down and patted the space next to her. Spencer joined her, taking a deep breath as he looked up at the sky.

"I can't believe he's going to Florida State," Spencer said, his voice tinged with disbelief and a hint of sadness.

Y/N nodded. "Yeah, it's a surprise, but it's his choice. He’s an adult now."

Spencer sighed. "I know. It's just... I'm going to miss him. And you. This place feels like home, and now I'm leaving."

Y/N placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We'll miss you too, Spencer. But you'll do amazing things, I know it. You've always been great."

He looked at her, his eyes searching hers for reassurance. "It's just... scary, you know? Moving away, being on my own. What if I don't fit in?"

Y/N smiled warmly. "You will. You always do."

They sat in comfortable silence, gazing up at the stars. The night was calm, the garden a peaceful contrast to the lively celebration inside. Spencer felt a sense of peace wash over him, comforted by Y/N's presence and her words.

"Thank you," he said softly, looking over at her. "For being here. For understanding."

Y/N squeezed his shoulder gently. "I’ll always be here for you, Spencer."

As they sat together, the weight of the impending changes felt a little lighter. The stars above seemed to shine a bit brighter, and for the first time that night, Spencer felt a glimmer of hope for the future.

—

24 years old now, Spencer Reid hadn't thought about Adam in years, but when the invitation arrived in the mail, it brought back a flood of memories. He held the ornate envelope in his hands, his heart pounding with a mix of nostalgia and nerves. The invitation was to Adam's wedding, an event that promised to reunite old friends and acquaintances. Spencer couldn't help but feel a sense of obligation to attend. Adam had always been kind to him during those tumultuous high school years.

Despite his apprehension, Spencer decided to go. He meticulously planned his trip, ensuring he had everything he needed to make a good impression. The journey to the wedding venue in Napa Valley, California was a blur of anxious thoughts and memories of the past. As he arrived at the grand hotel where the event was being held, he felt a knot of nerves tightening in his stomach.

Meanwhile, Y/N was also preparing for the wedding. She couldn't help but feel excitement and trepidation at the thought of seeing Spencer again, Adam informed her that he had RSVP’d yes. She had always harbored a silly little crush on him, one that had persisted through the years despite their long separation. The idea of seeing him again, older and perhaps changed, was both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

The wedding weekend began with a flurry of activities. The hotel was abuzz with guests arriving, mingling, and catching up. Spencer found himself lost in the crowd, his nerves making it difficult to relax. As he checked in at the front desk, the receptionist handed him a key card with a polite smile.

"Here you go, Dr. Reid. Room 212," she said.

Spencer thanked her and made his way to the elevator, his mind racing with thoughts of what the weekend could entail. He arrived at the door to his room and swiped the key card. As he pushed the door open, he was met with an unexpected sight.

Y/N was standing in the middle of the room, her back to him as she attempted to pull up the zipper of her dress. Upon hearing the door open, she spun around with a scream, holding the dress to her chest.

“What the fuck!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock.

“I’m so sorry!” Spencer stammered, equally startled.

“Spencer?” she said, her expression shifting from surprise to recognition.

“Y/N?” he replied, still trying to process what was happening.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded, still clutching the dress to her chest.

“I don’t know, this is the room I was told I'm staying in. My key opened the door…” he explained, holding up the key card as if it could somehow explain everything.

“Shit. Okay. Something must have gotten messed up. I'll check it out as soon as I'm dressed,” Y/N said, her tone calming slightly.

“Okay. Yeah. I’ll just leave you be,” Spencer said, starting to back out of the room.

“Actually… Spencer, could you help me with the zipper?” Y/N asked, her voice softer and a bit embarrassed.

Spencer paused, his face flushing. “Uh, sure. Of course.”

He stepped back into the room, closing the door behind him. Y/N turned around, holding her hair up to give him access to the zipper. His hands trembled slightly as he grasped the zipper, carefully pulling it up the back of her dress.

“Thank you,” she said softly once he had finished.

“No problem,” Spencer replied, stepping back and trying to keep his eyes respectfully averted.

She sighed, shaking her head. “Well, let’s go sort this out. Maybe the front desk can figure out what happened.”

As they left the room together, Spencer couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of awkwardness and nostalgia. Despite the initial shock, there was something oddly comforting about being in Y/N’s presence again. 

—

"So you're saying every single room in the entire hotel is booked? How is that even possible?” Y/N asked, her frustration evident.

“Well, miss, your wedding party is not the only group staying here. It is a very popular vineyard, especially at this time of year,” the receptionist explained calmly.

“So what you’re saying is we have to share this room?” Y/N pressed, trying to find a solution.

“You could stay with someone else, but yes, there are no more rooms available,” the receptionist confirmed.

Y/N sighed deeply, rubbing between her brows. “Okay. Thank you.”

Spencer and Y/N walked away from the desk, both trying to process the situation. Spencer broke the silence with a lighthearted joke. “Hopefully this is the worst thing that will happen this weekend.”

Y/N looked at him, a mix of apology and stress in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Spencer. I didn’t mean to make you think I’d hate to share a room with you… it’s just, this weekend is already going to be stressful.”

“Hey, no, I’m sorry for teasing. It’s okay. It will be like the sleepovers we had as kids,” Spencer said, trying to reassure her.

“You mean where you and Adam slept in the game room and I stayed as far away as possible?” Y/N responded, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

“Exactly,” Spencer bubbled with laughter, the tension between them easing a bit.

They made their way back to their shared room, Spencer couldn't help but feel a bit nostalgic, thinking back to those simpler times. Y/N, too, found herself feeling a bit more at ease, her initial worries about the weekend beginning to fade. 

—

Once they were back in the room, Y/N looked over at Spencer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I was going to pretend to be courteous and ask what side of the bed you prefer… but I have to sleep next to the window,” she announced, a playful smile on her lips.

“Oh, well, thank you for almost considering my feelings!” Spencer laughed, his tension easing. “I don’t mind either way, but if you snore half as bad as your brother, I’m putting a pillow over your face.”

“Oh my god, that man could cut down trees with that chainsaw he keeps in his mouth!” Y/N exclaimed, her laughter filling the room.

They shared some giggles, the awkwardness between them dissolving into familiarity and warmth.

“It’s really nice to see you, Spencer,” Y/N said sincerely, her eyes softening as she looked at him.

“You too, Y/N. You look so grown up,” Spencer replied, noting the elegance and maturity in her appearance.

“Well, 12 years will do that to someone,” she said with a chuckle, her gaze lingering on him.

“Not me, I still look the same,” Spencer said, shaking his head with a wry smile.

“Yeah,” Y/N tilted her head to the side, studying his face. “You really haven’t changed at all.”

“Okay, easy now,” Spencer protested lightly, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Did you ever grow armpit hair?” she teased, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Hey!” Spencer exclaimed, trying to defend his dignity.

“Oh, come on, Spencer! Show me!” Y/N teased further, taking a playful step towards him.

“No, Y/N. Hey, get away from me!” Spencer laughed as Y/N chased him around the room, her determination to see his armpits turning into a playful game.

With a burst of energy, Y/N ended up tackling him to the bed, sitting successfully on his stomach. “Give it up, Spencer, I win.”

“Nope!” he yelled triumphantly before using all his strength to flip her, pinning her down and tickling her.

Y/N cackled and shouted, “Uncle! Uncle!” between fits of laughter.

When Spencer finally pulled back, they both noticed the precarious position they were in. Spencer was between Y/N’s thighs with his hands by her head, both of them panting in each other’s mouths. The laughter faded as they locked eyes, the weight of the years apart and the sudden closeness creating a charged moment.

“I need to get ready for the rehearsal dinner,” Y/N whispered.

Spencer took the cue and got off of Y/N and the bed. “Mhm, yup. Me too.”

“Um, I showered when I got here. So, uh, I’ll just go get ready in the bridal suite. You can have the room,” Y/N said as she gathered the things she would need to get ready.

“Y/N… you don’t have to leave, I’m sorry.”

“What? Nothing to be sorry about. Just giving you your privacy. See you later, Spencer.”

“Yeah, see—” but she had already shut the door behind her. 

Spencer ran his hands over his face, feeling a mix of embarrassment and confusion. What had he been thinking? The sudden intimacy had caught him off guard, and now he felt a pang of regret for how awkward things had become. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and began preparing for the rehearsal dinner, hoping the rest of the evening would go more smoothly.

— 

Y/N was not a bridesmaid, but she was fine with that. She wasn't all that interested in the responsibilities and duties that came with it anyway. She was still very close with her soon-to-be sister-in-law, Elizabeth, and it was no problem for her to get ready in the bridal suite. Once she explained the mix-up with the rooms, Elizabeth was extremely apologetic and understanding.

At the rehearsal dinner, Y/N’s seat was, of course, next to Spencer’s. He had arrived before her, which meant she spotted the back of his head before she sat down, giving her time to make a run for the open bar before making her way to the table.

As she sat down, Spencer looked over and his breath caught at the sight of her. Y/N looked absolutely radiant in her rehearsal dinner attire. The outfit suited her perfectly, complementing all of her assets and making her eyes shine. Maybe he had been silly to waste all those years alongside her chasing after her brother when she was right there. Although, he figured it probably would have been difficult to maintain a long-distance relationship at 12 while he was in university.

“Hey,” Y/N greeted him, her smile warm and genuine.

“Hi,” Spencer replied, still a bit breathless. “You look... amazing.”

“Thanks,” she said, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

Spencer chuckled, feeling more at ease. “Thanks. It’s nice to be here. I mean, it’s been so long.”

“Yeah, it has,” Y/N agreed, taking a sip of her drink. “It’s crazy how time flies.”

As they settled into conversation, the initial awkwardness from earlier seemed to dissipate. They talked about their lives, their work, and the memories from their youth, finding common ground and shared experiences. The laughter and joyfulness that had once defined their friendship began to resurface, making the evening feel less like a reunion of strangers and more like a gathering of old friends.

Throughout the dinner, Spencer couldn’t help but steal glances at Y/N, marveling at how she had grown into such a beautiful and confident woman. The realization that he might have missed something special by focusing so much on Adam gnawed at him, but he tried to push those thoughts aside and enjoy the present moment.

After all the speeches were given and the eating was rehearsed, the youngest and oldest of the crowd turned into their rooms for the night. The bridal party and groomsmen left as well, all needing to be up very early. This left the young to middle-aged adults to the complimentary after-dinner party. There were free drinks, a dance floor, karaoke, and dimmed lighting.

Y/N looked over at Spencer, not knowing if this was his cup of tea or not. “Do you want to stay for a bit?”

The idea of cutting the night short didn't sit well with him, especially not with how Y/N was looking at him. “No, no, I'd like to stay if you do.”

“Sure,” she smiled. “I’ll stay.”

The two walked over to the bar to get a drink. Spencer had very rarely indulged in alcohol. Gideon had tried to introduce him to scotch, which he hated. Hotch had shown him whiskey, which wasn’t as bad but still too strong. Derek ordered him a Sex on the Beach that he really liked but was too embarrassed to order on his own. So he didn't know what he was going to do when the bartender looked at him.

“What will you have, miss?” the bartender asked Y/N.

“Just an appletini, please,” she replied. The bartender nodded and turned his attention to Spencer.

Spencer could feel his palms sweat as he ran over every drink he knew of. Y/N leaned over and asked, “Do you want me to order for you?”

Spencer nodded gratefully and whispered his order in her ear. Y/N pulled away, absolutely delighted. She told the bartender his drink before looking back to Spencer and saying, “At least ask me on a date first, you men are all the same,” teasing the poor red man.

Spencer blushed furiously but couldn’t help but laugh. “Thank you,” he said, his embarrassment mingling with amusement.

The bartender soon returned with their drinks—Y/N’s appletini and Spencer’s Sex on the Beach. Y/N handed Spencer his drink, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Here you go, pervert. Enjoy.”

Spencer blushed even more, laughing despite himself. “Thanks,” he said, taking a sip and feeling the sweet, fruity flavors calm his nerves.

They moved to a small table near the dance floor, the music a pleasant background to their conversation. Y/N sipped her drink and looked around, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere.

“So, Dr. Reid,” she began, her tone playful, “what’s your favorite part about weddings?”

Spencer thought for a moment, a small smile forming on his lips. “Honestly, I’ve never been to a wedding before. Have you?”

Y/N nodded, her smile softening. “Yeah. I think my favorite part is the dancing. I’ve always wanted someone to swing me around the dance floor at a wedding, it looks so romantic.”

Spencer took note of what Y/N was saying, thinking that maybe he could be the one to dance her around tomorrow at the reception. “You know, I never said thank you,” Spencer said.

“For what?” Y/N tilted her head.

“For being nice to me, you and Adam both. You never laughed at me or made me feel weird for being so young and advanced.”

“Spencer…” Y/N said with a hint of questioning in her voice. “Why would we make fun of you for being smart? Oh ha ha, look at this guy, he knows way more than us.”

Spencer chuckled. “I know, but still, thank you.”

Y/N smiled warmly, reaching across the table to give his arm a reassuring squeeze. “You’re welcome, Spencer. You’ve always been special to us.”

Spencer felt his heart grow ten sizes at her words, 'us,' and the fact that Y/N remembered his aversion for touching hands. Screw Adam and Elizabeth, he’d marry Y/N tomorrow. Now, that might be a little dramatic, but whatever.

As Spencer and Y/N continued to catch up and enjoy each other's company, they also consumed more drinks. The alcohol birthed an idea in Y/N’s pretty head, quite a good one if she says so.

“Spencer,” she leaned in, her voice playful.

“Yes, ma'am,” he responded, also leaning in until their foreheads pressed together.

Y/N giggled before sharing her idea, “We should go swimming.”

“What? Where?” Spencer asked, bewildered.

“The hotel has a pool!” she exclaimed, her excitement infectious.

“Isn’t it closed by now?” Spencer asked, skeptical but intrigued.

“Nuh-uh,” she shook her head against his, her movement causing his glasses to brush against her eyebrows. “It’s open 24/7.”

Spencer was nervous; he knew Y/N liked to swim, but he wasn’t very good at it, not having done much swimming since his last summer with Adam. But he couldn’t say no to her, it would appear.

“Okay, let’s go,” he agreed, the decision making his heart race.

Y/N squealed in delight, grabbing Spencer by his bicep and dragging him behind her. She squeezed the muscle in her hand before wiggling her eyebrows at him and saying, “Wow, doctor, did you put on some muscle?”

Spencer blushed something fierce. “I had to, I’m in the FBI.”

“Ohh good, I’m gonna need a big strong man in case we get into danger,” Y/N teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Spencer felt like he already was in danger, but a kind he was willing to face.

—

Once at the pool, they were both relieved to find no one else there; it was pretty late after all. As they approached the water, Spencer suddenly realized a flaw in Y/N's plan.

“Y/N, wait,” he grabbed her arm. “What about swimsuits?”

She smirked at him and pulled her arm away before grabbing the hem of her dress and pulling it off. Spencer's eyes were as wide as saucers, hilariously magnified by his frames.

“Close your mouth, doctor. Wouldn't want you to catch flies,” she teased, and with that, she jumped into the pool.

As Y/N resurfaced, Spencer noticed her makeup was impressively intact, probably some of that new waterproof stuff they make. She swam over to the edge in front of Spencer before looking up at him with a gaze not unlike a siren luring in prey.

“Come on in, Spence. The water feels amazing,” she coaxed, her voice soft and inviting.

Spencer, under the influence of something much stronger than alcohol, started shedding his clothes down to his briefs. Y/N wolf-whistled once he had his shirt off, causing a full-body flush to take over him. As soon as he was down to his last article, he jumped into the water to avoid her staring any longer.

The cool water enveloped him, a refreshing contrast to the heat he felt under Y/N's gaze. He surfaced, pushing his hair back and adjusting his glasses, which had miraculously stayed on.

“There you are,” Y/N said, swimming over to him. “Isn’t this nice?”

“Yeah,” Spencer admitted, feeling a bit more at ease now that he was in the water. “It’s actually really nice.”

“Are you ready?” Y/N asked, her voice low and taunting, getting very close to Spencer in the water, their bodies almost touching.

Spencer felt like he was going to pass out. “Re–ready for what?”

“Race ya!” she exclaimed, and with that, she was off, swimming away with powerful strokes.

Spencer blinked, momentarily stunned by the sudden challenge. Then, with a determined look, he launched himself after her, his competitive spirit kicking in despite his nerves. The cool water rushed past him as he swam, his strokes becoming more confident as he pushed himself to keep up with Y/N.

She reached the far end of the pool first, touching the wall and turning to see Spencer still making his way towards her. She laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet night air.

“You’re slow, Dr. Reid!” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Spencer reached the wall, panting but smiling. “Not all of us are part fish, Y/N.”

“Hey, I’m not that fast,” she said with a playful pout. “You did pretty well for someone who has never won a swimming race, ever.”

“Thanks,” Spencer replied, catching his breath. “But next time, I’ll beat you.”

“Oh, is that a challenge?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” he said, feeling bolder. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“I like when you get cocky, it suits you,” Y/N said, her voice dropping to a flirtatious purr as she swam closer to him, their bodies almost touching again.

Spencer's heart pounded in his chest. “Oh really? I didn’t know I had it in me.”

“There’s a lot you have in you, Spencer,” she replied, her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made his breath catch. “Maybe you just need the right person to bring it out.”

“And who, um–who do you think that person is?” he asked, his voice trembling and nervous.

“Someone who,” she whispered, her lips just inches from his. “Would have se–”

“Hey! What are you two doing in here?” a security guard called out.

“Nothing!” Spencer yelped.

“Just leaving!” Y/N added quickly.

They scrambled out of the pool, grabbing their clothes and running down a hallway towards the elevators. Once they were safely inside one, they looked at each other and started laughing.

“I thought you said it was open all night!” Spencer exclaimed between breaths.

“I may have told a fib to get you to come swimming with me,” Y/N admitted, giving her best puppy dog eyes. “Are you mad at me, Spence?”

Spencer could see her hard nipples poking through the soaking wet, thin material of her bra and couldn’t find himself to be anything but aroused. “Uh, no, no. Not mad, that was fun.”

Y/N caught him looking but didn’t say anything. What man wouldn’t look at wet breasts right in his face?

“Yeah, it was,” she agreed, smiling. “Thanks for going with me.”

As Spencer looked up at the ceiling to avoid staring at Y/N’s half-naked body, she took her opportunity to glance down at his scantily concealed half hard bulge. She could see the entire outline through his wet, hot pink briefs.

“Never took you as a pink guy, doctor,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Spencer blushed fiercely, trying to cover himself with his clothes. “They were a gift,” he mumbled, embarrassed but unable to keep from smiling.

“Well, I think they suit you,” she said with a wink.

The elevator dinged, and they stepped out, making their way back to their room, still dripping wet and grinning from ear to ear. Once inside, they both burst out laughing again, the adrenaline from their escapade still coursing through them.

“Here,” Y/N said, grabbing a couple of towels from the bathroom and tossing one to Spencer. “Dry off before you catch a cold.”

“Thanks,” he replied, wrapping the towel around himself. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“Me neither,” she admitted, toweling off her hair. “But it was worth it.”

Spencer nodded, his heart still racing. “Yeah, it was.”

They both stood there for a moment, wrapped in towels and basking in the afterglow of their impromptu adventure. The tension between them was palpable, but so was the camaraderie and affection.

“Well,” Y/N said finally, breaking the silence. “I guess we should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed reluctantly, not wanting the evening to end. “Uh, do you want to shower first?”

“Thanks, Spencer,” Y/N nodded her head and grabbed her things.

The next 10 minutes were the hardest, literally, of Spencer's entire life. Knowing Y/N was naked and wet on the other side of the door was pure torture. He could hear the water running, imagine the steam filling the room, and envision her silhouette behind the shower curtain. When Y/N cracked open the bathroom door and peeked her head out, Spencer sat up faster than ever before, super not obvious at all.

“Sorry… I kind of forgot to bring any clothes in, so I need to come out in my towel. Is that okay?” she asked, her cheeks slightly flushed.

“Ye–yeah. Mhm,” he cleared his throat, trying to sound nonchalant. “That’s totally fine, no big deal. Why would I care?”

“Okay, weirdo,” Y/N looked at him skeptically, a playful glint in her eye. “Bathroom’s all yours.”

Spencer nodded and waited until Y/N was facing her suitcase to make a break for it, sprinting to the bathroom so she didn't see his very prominent boner tenting his pants. Y/N turned around quickly at the sound of the bathroom door slamming, finding his behavior odd.

In the shower, Spencer turned the water to cold and willed his erection away. The icy water was a shock to his system, but he needed it to calm down. He had not indulged much in self-pleasure and had certainly never seen as much of a woman as he saw today, let alone been touched by one. Eventually, it did go down, and he got out, only to realize he hadn't brought a towel. Of fucking course.

Spencer was now the one sticking his head out of the crack he made in the doorway, “Y/N…?”

“Yeah, Spencer, what’s up?” she called back, now sitting in the bed.

“I, um, forgot a towel,” he admitted, feeling his face heat up again.

“Oh shit, let me grab yours,” Y/N replied, getting up and walking over to his bag to retrieve the towel.

“Thanks,” he muttered, trying to make himself as small as possible behind the door.

When Y/N walked over to hand the towel to Spencer, she couldn’t help but immediately break into giggles.

“Oh, that’s what every guy wants to hear. What is it?” Spencer asked, mortified, his head barely poking out from behind the door.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped between laughs, “it’s just that I can see your butt in the mirror.”

Completely horrified, Spencer slammed the door shut and banged his head on it. “Can we please forget about this?” he groaned, his face burning with embarrassment.

“Absolutely not! You have the cutest ass I’ve ever seen!” Y/N called out, her laughter echoing through the room.

Spencer felt his face burn even more as he dried off and quickly dressed. When he emerged from the bathroom, he avoided eye contact with Y/N, who was still chuckling softly, a wide grin on her face.

“Ready for bed?” she asked, a playful glint in her eye, clearly still amused by the situation.

“Yeah,” Spencer mumbled, trying to hide his embarrassment as he climbed into his side of the bed.

They settled into their respective sides, the awkwardness from the bathroom incident lingering but slowly giving way to a more comfortable silence.

“Goodnight, Spencer,” Y/N said softly, turning off the bedside lamp and snuggling under the covers.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replied, settling into his pillow and trying to calm his racing thoughts.

As he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, Spencer couldn’t help but smile. Despite the awkward moments and his own nervousness, he felt a warmth in his chest that he hadn’t felt since that last summer. This weekend, for all its surprises, was turning out to be something special. And as he drifted off to sleep, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.

— 

When the room’s phone began ringing with a wake-up call in the morning, both Y/N and Spencer groaned at being woken up. Y/N stuck her arm out, grabbed the phone, and hung it up to stop the sound rattling in her head. Much to her surprise and gratitude, she was not hungover, just very tired. She went to roll over to go back to sleep when she noticed her body was being restricted by multiple different body parts, none of which belonged to her.

Spencer had one arm around her waist, his other beneath his head, one leg on her hip, and the other between both of her legs. The man had wrapped himself around her like a human octopus. He was also awake, not having slept through the wake-up call, but was paralyzed out of fear or embarrassment, maybe both.

Y/N felt him tense up and his breathing grow rapid, signaling that he was awake. “Well, good morning to you too, Dr. Reid. Or is it Doc Ock?” she teased, her voice still heavy with sleep.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Spencer mumbled, his face burning with embarrassment.

“I know I am, thank you,” Y/N said, a smirk playing on her lips.

They lay in silence for a few more moments, both of them thoroughly enjoying the feeling of the other's body pressed against their own.

“So, not that I'm complaining, but were you planning on letting me go anytime soon?” Y/N asked, amusement evident in her tone.

“Oh god, yes. I'm so sorry,” Spencer said, hurriedly trying to disentangle himself. In his haste, he managed to rub his morning wood against Y/N’s ass.

“Jesus, Reid! Any of your other body parts you want to touch me with?” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“No, nope. Actually, I think I'm just going to open the window and jump out. I think the 15 floors will kill me,” he said, his voice muffled from behind his hands that were hiding his extremely red face.

Y/N laughed softly, reaching out to gently pull his hands away from his face. “Hey, it’s okay. It happens,” she said, her tone reassuring. “No need to jump out the window.”

Spencer looked at her, still blushing but grateful for her understanding. “Thanks, Y/N. I’m really sorry about that.”

She shrugged, giving him a playful smile. “It’s all part of the fun, right? Besides, I’d miss having you around.”

Spencer managed a small smile, feeling a bit better. “I’d miss you too.”

They lay there for a moment longer, the initial awkwardness giving way to a comfortable silence. Until Y/N, unable to resist tormenting Spencer, said, “Did you want a hand with that?”

“What??” he half-squeaked, half-screamed.

Y/N threw her head back, laughing hard in the early morning light shining in.

“You’re so mean,” Spencer muttered, his face a deep shade of red.

“Aww, did you really want me to?” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I’m not answering that,” he replied, trying to sound stern but failing miserably.

“All in good time, young grasshopper,” Y/N said, patting his arm playfully.

Spencer, rolling his eyes and unable to stand Y/N’s antics any longer, got out of bed to get ready for the day. He needed coffee, and maybe 50,000 shots of alcohol. What he failed to consider was that he was still hard, in loose gray sweats, and that he was sharing a room with Y/N, the worst person, ever.

“Whoa baby! I didn’t realize you were holding out on me! Get back here!” Y/N called out, patting the bed and laughing even harder.

Spencer, mortified, ran to the bathroom, his face burning with embarrassment. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, trying to calm his racing heart. The cold shower earlier had been nothing compared to the icy plunge he felt now, thanks to Y/N’s relentless teasing.

Inside the bathroom, he took a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself. He couldn’t deny that a part of him enjoyed the playful banter, but another part of him was utterly overwhelmed by the intensity of his feelings. He needed to collect himself and face the day, starting with a much-needed cup of coffee.

Back in the room, Y/N was still chuckling to herself, thoroughly amused by Spencer's reactions. She began getting ready, her thoughts drifting to the upcoming events of the day and the unexpected pleasure of Spencer’s company. Despite her teasing, she was genuinely glad he was there.

As Spencer emerged from the bathroom, now somewhat composed, he glanced at Y/N, who was busy with her morning routine. “Truce?” he offered, a tentative smile on his lips.

“Truce,” Y/N agreed, smiling back at him. “For now.”

They both laughed, the tension easing as they continued preparing for the day ahead. The morning light filled the room, promising a day full of possibilities and perhaps, a few more moments of unexpected connection.

—

The morning sun cast a warm glow over the vineyard as Y/N and Spencer wandered through the charming village, the scent of grapes and fresh earth filling the air. They didn’t have much to do in preparation for the wedding, so they decided to venture out in search of coffee. The village was picturesque, with cobblestone streets, quaint shops, and inviting cafés.

As they strolled, chatting about old memories and catching up, they suddenly found themselves face-to-face with a woman Y/N recognized all too well. Christa, one of the girls who used to bully Spencer in high school, stood before them. Adam had warned Y/N about all the mean girls and boys, just in case they had any younger siblings at the school.

“Oh my god! No way! It’s the baby freak and boarding school!” Christa exclaimed, her voice dripping with mock surprise and disdain.

Spencer immediately tensed, the old nickname hitting him like a punch to the gut. He hadn’t been called that in years. Y/N, feeling a surge of protectiveness, stepped forward.

“Christa!” Y/N exclaimed with a bright, exaggerated smile, moving in for an overly enthusiastic hug that left Christa visibly uncomfortable. Christa awkwardly patted Y/N’s back, clearly thrown off by the unexpected embrace.

“Uh, hi,” Christa muttered, her confidence wavering.

“How are you? What has it been, 15 years? You don’t look a day over 40,” Y/N said cheerfully.

“I’m 30,” Christa replied, her tone icy.

“Oh… well, sunscreen is your best friend!” Y/N said, her voice dripping with false innocence.

Christa’s face twisted in offense, while Spencer struggled to hide his laughter behind a cough.

“Baby freak… you look exactly the same. Still scaring everyone away with your freaky genius powers?” Christa sneered, her eyes narrowing at Spencer.

“I–uh, no, I–” Spencer stammered, the old insecurities rushing back.

“Spencer, here,” Y/N said, emphasizing his name, “is not a baby, maybe compared to the looks of you. And he is not a freak, unless you want to talk about more private matters, but judging by the turn of your nose and the stick up your ass, I’m going to go ahead and assume you have no idea what I’m talking about. How long has it been since a real human touched you?”

Christa was speechless, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to come up with a retort. Finally, she sneered, “I bet Spencer’s never been touched by a human ever.”

Spencer looked down, his face turning red with embarrassment, feeling like the insecure 12-year-old all over again.

“Really? Like this?” Y/N said, pulling Spencer down into a kiss before Christa could say another word.

The kiss was brief but intense, and when Y/N pulled back, Spencer’s eyes were wide with surprise, his cheeks flushed. Christa stood there, stunned and utterly speechless, unable to come up with a reply.

Y/N turned back to Christa with a triumphant smile. “Awe, Christa, you look like a fish. Never speak to me or my boyfriend ever again, okay? Okay, sweetie. So good to see you!”

With that, Y/N took Spencer’s arm and led him away, leaving Christa standing in the middle of the street, fuming and defeated.

As they walked away, Spencer glanced over at Y/N, his heart still racing from the unexpected kiss. “Thank you,” he said softly.

Y/N squeezed his arm gently, a warm smile on her face. “Anytime, Spencer. You deserve better than people like her.”

They continued their walk, the tension from the encounter melting away as they enjoyed each other’s company, feeling closer than ever before. The weekend had taken another unexpected turn, but this time, it was for the better.

—

After grabbing their coffee, Spencer and Y/N realized they still had plenty of time before they had to start getting ready for the wedding. The charm of Napa Valley beckoned, and they decided to indulge in one of the region’s finest offerings: wine tasting. The idea seemed perfect, a way to enjoy the beautiful vineyard and create some new memories.

They made their way back to the vineyard and signed up for a tour. As they strolled through the rows of grapevines, Y/N kept her hand looped around Spencer's arm. It felt natural, a comforting closeness that neither of them felt the need to mention. The guide led them through the process of winemaking, from grape to glass, sharing interesting tidbits and answering questions.

Once the tour concluded, they were led to a private table on one of the many balconies the vineyard’s main building had to offer. The view was breathtaking, with rolling hills and endless rows of vines stretching out under the clear blue sky. A tasting flight of wine was set before them, each glass glistening with rich, inviting hues.

Y/N took a sip from the first glass, savoring the flavor before turning to Spencer. “So… about earlier,” she began, her voice soft.

Spencer nodded, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. “Yeah. That was… unexpected.”

“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” Y/N said, looking at him earnestly. “I just couldn’t stand her talking to you like that.”

Spencer shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “You didn’t overstep. It was… nice. Surprising, but nice. No one’s ever stood up for me like that before.”

Y/N blushed slightly, taking another sip of her wine. “Well, you deserved it. She was horrible.”

Spencer glanced at her, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the wine. “Thank you, Y/N. For everything. It’s been a long time since I felt… protected.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes twinkling. “You’re welcome. And for what it’s worth, you could have handled it really well all on your own. I just… wanted to make sure she knew she couldn’t mess with you.”

Spencer chuckled, relaxing more as he took a sip from his glass. “You definitely made that clear.”

They continued their tasting, discussing the nuances of each wine, but the earlier conversation had brought them even closer. The view, the wine, and the company made for a perfect moment, one that felt both nostalgic and new.

As they moved through the tasting flight, they found themselves laughing and reminiscing about old times, the tension from the earlier encounter long forgotten. The vineyard, with its serene beauty, provided the perfect backdrop for reconnecting, and they both felt a sense of peace and happiness that had been missing for too long.

Y/N looked out over the balcony, her hand still resting lightly on Spencer's arm. “I’m glad we’re here,” she said softly. “I’ve missed this.”

“Me too,” Spencer replied, his voice equally soft. “It’s like coming home.”

They clinked their glasses together, a silent toast to new beginnings and cherished memories. The weekend held more surprises, but for now, they were content to simply enjoy each other’s company, letting the wine and the moment carry them away.

“Speaking of home… do you think you’d ever come back?” Y/N asked, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

“To Las Vegas?” Spencer replied, looking at her curiously.

“Yeah,” Y/N said, feeling somewhat hopeful.

Spencer took a moment, thinking it over. “I’ve never thought about it, really.”

“Oh, I guess if I left, I wouldn’t want to come back either,” Y/N said, a hint of sadness creeping into her tone.

“Y/N… it’s not that. There’s just nothing there for me anymore.”

“Yeah, nothing,” she said bitterly, sipping her wine.

“No, no, no. That’s not what I meant,” Spencer said quickly, his eyes wide with concern.

“It’s okay, Spencer. You don’t have to pretend. We haven’t talked in over a decade. I can’t blame you,” Y/N said, looking down at her glass.

“Y/N–” Spencer began, but she cut him off.

“I’m going to head back and get ready. Can you give me an hour alone, please?” she asked, her voice strained.

“Yeah, of course,” Spencer said softly, his heart sinking.

Y/N stood up, giving him a small, tight smile before walking away. Spencer watched her go, feeling a pang of regret. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, and now he felt the weight of their years apart more heavily than ever. He sat there for a moment longer, staring out at the vineyard, before deciding to take a walk to clear his mind.

The serene beauty of the vineyard provided some solace, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Y/N. He realized how much he had missed her, how much he had missed having someone who understood him. The years had created a distance between them, but he hoped that this weekend could be a step towards bridging that gap.

As he wandered back to the room an hour later, he knocked softly on the door, giving Y/N the space she had asked for. He hoped they could find a way to reconnect, to rebuild the bond they once had. The weekend was far from over, and he was determined to make things right.

— 

By the time the ceremony rolled around, Y/N and Spencer hadn't talked yet but took their seats next to each other. Spencer tried to apologize again, but Y/N brushed him off, telling him it was okay. The ceremony was beautiful and didn't drag on too long. Y/N cried, and Spencer put his arm around her shoulders, letting her cry on him.

They took their seats for dinner after, being seated again with her parents and close family. Though her parents weren't there for the rehearsal dinner, they were now. Spencer was extremely nervous, having never gotten a good read on Y/N and Adam's parents before. All he knew was that they shipped their young children off to boarding school and then left them home with hired staff more often than not.

As the first course was being served, Y/N's mother eyed Spencer with a mix of curiosity and disapproval. “Y/N, who is this man you brought?” she asked, her tone sharp.

Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Mother, this is Spencer Reid. He grew up with us, don’t you remember?”

Her mother pursed her lips, shaking her head. “No.”

“I’m not surprised,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

Her father, catching the exchange, leaned in. “Watch your tone, that’s your mother.”

“I’m 24,” Y/N said, her voice steady but strained.

“And you’re still our child,” her father retorted.

“I’ve been financially independent since I was 18. What are you going to do? Take my salad fork?” Y/N shot back, her frustration evident.

Her parents rolled their eyes in unison. “No wonder it’s your brother getting married and not you,” her mother sneered. “You were always so bitter. Determined to hold grudges.”

Y/N’s mouth dropped open, ready to fire back, but Spencer quickly intervened. “Actually, Y/N and I have been together for what, 2 years, darling?” he said, his voice smooth and confident.

Y/N was momentarily stunned, but then a wicked smile crept across her face. “Yes, baby. And that present you gave me for our anniversary was so… sensual. I can still feel it,” she said, biting her lip for effect.

Spencer tried to contain his laughter, his eyes dancing with amusement as he looked at Y/N. 

Her mother’s face turned a deep shade of red. “Y/N L/N! You are incorrigible.”

Y/N shrugged, unfazed. “I don’t care,” she said, a defiant glint in her eye.

The table fell into an awkward silence, but Spencer felt a sense of triumph. He had managed to diffuse the situation and even brought a smile to Y/N’s face. As the dinner progressed, they exchanged knowing glances, each feeling a little more at ease despite the tension surrounding them.

As soon as people were encouraged to get up from their tables, Y/N and Spencer shot up. Their first stop was the open bar, both needing a drink after enduring a whole dinner with her parents.

“Can we get an appletini and a sex on the beach?” Spencer ordered, his voice only shaking slightly.

“Spence!” Y/N yelled, hitting his arm playfully. “I’m so proud of you!”

He smiled to himself, feeling a sense of accomplishment. They stood at the bar, sipping their drinks as they observed the crowd. The lively atmosphere was a welcome contrast to the tension they had just experienced. Y/N’s eyes were on the couples dancing, and Spencer remembered what she had said earlier about wanting someone to swing her around the dance floor.

“Do you want to dance?” Spencer asked, turning to her.

“Oh no, it’s okay. I know you don’t like to dance,” Y/N replied, her gaze lingering on the dance floor.

“Y/N… I want to dance with you. Do you want to dance with me?” Spencer asked, his eyes earnest.

“Yes, very much,” Y/N said, her face lighting up with a smile.

Spencer set his drink down and took her hand, leading her to the dance floor. The music was a soft, romantic melody, perfect for a slow dance. As they found a spot, Spencer placed his hands gently on her waist, and Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck. They swayed to the music, the world around them fading as they focused on each other.

“I can’t believe I’m finally doing this,” Y/N said softly, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Me neither,” Spencer replied, his voice equally soft. “I’m glad it’s with you.”

Y/N’s eyes were shining. “You’ve always been special to me, Spencer.”

He smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You too, Y/N.”

Her heart raced at his bold gesture, not expecting such a move from Spencer. They stayed on the dance floor for a few more songs, enjoying the moment and the connection that had been rekindled. Eventually, Spencer took Y/N's hand and led her away from the floor.

“Spence… you’re holding my hand,” Y/N said, glancing down at their intertwined fingers.

“I am,” Spencer replied, his voice steady.

“You don’t do that,” she pointed out, her heart still fluttering.

“I don’t,” he agreed, looking at her with a small smile.

“But you are,” she continued, her eyes searching his.

“Right again,” Spencer said, his smile widening.

“Why?” Y/N asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“Because I like you,” Spencer admitted, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity she hadn’t seen before.

Y/N felt her breath catch, her heart pounding in her chest. “You… you like me?”

Spencer nodded, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. “Yes, Y/N. I like you. I guess I was just too afraid to admit it before.”

A smile slowly spread across Y/N's face, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I like you too, Spencer. I always have, since we were kids.”

Spencer's face lit up with relief and happiness. “Really?”

“Really,” Y/N confirmed, squeezing his hand.

They stood there for a moment, the noise of the party fading into the background as they gazed at each other. The years of separation and unspoken feelings seemed to melt away, leaving only the warmth of their rekindled connection.

“Do you want to get some fresh air?” Spencer asked, his voice soft.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Y/N replied, her smile never wavering.

They walked hand in hand out to the vineyard’s garden, the night air cool and refreshing. The walk through the garden was very much reminiscent of the last time they saw each other. The path was lined with twinkling lights, casting a soft glow over the grapevines and flowers.

“Did you really not know I liked you all those years ago? I was so obvious. I did everything to get your attention,” Y/N said, breaking the comfortable silence.

“No, I really didn’t know. I just thought you were really nice!” Spencer replied, his brow furrowing in surprise.

“And you liked Adam,” Y/N stated, a hint of a teasing smile on her lips.

“I–I, what??” Spencer stammered, caught off guard.

“It’s okay, Spence, he doesn’t know,” Y/N said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Spencer let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew. I could see it in the way you looked at him. It’s fine, really,” Y/N said, her voice gentle.

Spencer looked at her, his eyes filled with a mix of embarrassment and relief. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things awkward back then.”

Y/N shook her head, her smile softening. “You didn’t. I just wish I had known how to tell you how I felt. I was always so nervous around you.”

Spencer smiled, feeling a warmth spread through him. “I was nervous around you too. I didn’t know how to handle my feelings. I guess we were both a bit clueless.”

They laughed together, the sound carrying through the quiet night. As they continued their walk, the memories of the past seemed to blend with the present, creating a sense of closure and a new beginning.

“Do you think things would have been different if we had talked about it back then?” Spencer asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Maybe,” Y/N said thoughtfully. “But we were just kids, and you had so much ahead of you.”

Spencer nodded, feeling content with her answer. They reached a bench under a large oak tree and sat down, the stars twinkling above them. Y/N leaned her head on Spencer’s shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close.

“I would move back home,” Spencer said softly.

“What?” Y/N asked, her voice filled with warmth and curiosity.

“I would move back home,” Spencer repeated, his voice steady. “If it meant being with you eventually. I’d come back to Las Vegas.”

Y/N lifted her head to look at him, her eyes wide with surprise and emotion. “Spencer, you don’t have to do that for me. We aren’t even dating.”

“I know,” he said, gently cupping her cheek with his hand. “But I want to. You were always like home to me, Y/N. Being with you feels right.”

“I would never ask you to give up your job; you worked so hard to get there,” Y/N shook her head.

“But I—”

“Stop,” Y/N interrupted, pulling away from his touch. Her heart raced, and she felt a wave of panic wash over her. “This is too much, Spencer. We’ve just reconnected, and now you’re talking about uprooting your entire life for me. It’s overwhelming.”

Spencer’s face fell, his hand dropping to his side. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just wanted you to know how important you are to me.”

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions. “I appreciate that, really. But we need to take things slow. I need time to process all of this.”

Spencer nodded, though the disappointment was clear in his eyes. “Of course. I understand. We’ll take it slow.”

There was an awkward silence between them, the weight of their conversation hanging heavily in the air. Y/N felt a mix of guilt and relief, unsure of how to navigate the intense emotions swirling inside her.

After a few moments, Spencer spoke again, his voice soft. “I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you. I just care about you a lot.”

Y/N managed a small smile, her heart aching. “I care about you too, Spencer. But let’s just see where things go, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed, though the tension between them remained palpable.

They spent the rest of the evening in a subdued silence, both lost in their thoughts. Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of unease, and she wondered if she had made a mistake. But she also knew she needed to follow her instincts and not rush into anything that didn’t feel right.

That night, the walk back to their room was a silent torture. Each step felt heavier than the last, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering tension. Spencer desperately wanted to fix things, but he didn’t know how.

When they finally reached their room, Y/N wordlessly grabbed a pillow and placed it between their bodies on the bed, creating a physical barrier that mirrored the emotional distance between them. The gesture was small, but it felt like a chasm had opened up.

Spencer lay on his side, staring at the wall, his heart aching. He wanted to reach out, to hold her, to reassure her, but he couldn’t bring himself to cross that line. The fear of pushing her further away was paralyzing.

What was far worse, was when Spencer woke up to an empty bed and an empty hotel room. Panic set in as he called out her name, hoping she was just in the bathroom or getting breakfast. But there was no response.

The reality of the situation hit him hard. Once again, he had managed to lose one of the only people who ever felt like home. The weight of that loss settled in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He sat on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands, trying to make sense of what had gone wrong.

The silence of the room was deafening, and the loneliness was overwhelming. Spencer knew he had to find a way to make things right, but at that moment, he felt utterly lost and alone.

—

Downstairs, Spencer was checking out when he heard a familiar voice call his name. He turned around to see Adam bounding towards him.

“Hey buddy!” Adam, as broad as ever, swept him into a hug, picking him up in his excitement.

“Whoa! Hi!” Spencer laughed, caught off guard by the enthusiastic greeting.

“How are you? Thank you so much for coming. I’m sorry it’s been so crazy, I can’t believe I almost missed you!”

“Yeah, hah. Glad I ran into you,” Spencer replied, trying to keep his composure despite the turmoil inside.

Adam, unaware of Spencer's inner turmoil, continued with a big grin, “So, I heard you had to bunk with old Petit Chou.”

“Y/N? Yeah, I did,” Spencer replied, the nickname bringing back a wave of memories.

“How was it? Was it like old times?” Adam asked, his tone cheerful and curious.

“Um, no, not really. We got along a lot better,” Spencer admitted, a small, sad smile forming on his lips.

“Oh, you dog! Did you sleep with my sister?” Adam's tone was teasing, but he looked extremely pleased.

Spencer's eyes widened, and he quickly shook his head. “No, no, nothing like that. We just... caught up.”

Adam laughed, clapping Spencer on the back. “Well, I’m glad you two reconnected. She always had a soft spot for you, you know.”

Spencer forced a smile, trying to push away the sadness. “Yeah, me too. She’s... she’s great.”

“Eh, I wouldn’t go that far,” Adam teased in a big brotherly fashion.

“So, I thought you’d be gone by now on your honeymoon?” Spencer asked.

“Oh no, Lizzie wanted to have some time as newlyweds in our house first. You know, get settled in, put all the presents away and such before we leave. She really thinks everything through,” Adam explained, love evident in the way he talked about Elizabeth.

“She sounds wonderful. I’m so happy for you, man,” Spencer said sincerely.

“Thank you, little dude. Are there any lucky ladies in your life? Lucky lads?” Adam asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

“Huh, no,” Spencer replied, shaking his head.

“Dude, you should have totally made a move on Y/N! She yapped about you for years after you left. When I told her you were gonna be here, she practically threw away her suitcase and bought all new clothes, wanting to make a good impression or something,” Adam said with a grin.

“What?” Spencer choked, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Yeah, man, she had it baddd. It was kind of cute,” Adam chuckled.

“Oh, I had no idea,” Spencer said, feeling a little bit of shock and regret.

“Well, if you’re ever in Vegas, you know who to call,” Adam said, clapping Spencer on the back.

“Yeah... where are you living nowadays?” Spencer asked, trying to shift the conversation.

“Georgia! Met sweet little Lizzie at Florida State and followed her home after graduation. Never left,” Adam replied, his eyes shining with happiness.

“That’s great, Adam. I’m really happy for you,” Spencer said, genuinely pleased for his friend.

“Thanks, man. And seriously, don’t be a stranger. If you’re ever in the area, you’ve got a place to stay,” Adam said, giving Spencer another friendly hug.

As they finished checking out, Spencer’s mind raced with thoughts of Y/N. He needed to talk to her, to clear the air and understand what had gone wrong. But for now, he was grateful for the brief distraction that Adam had provided. It gave him a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to make things right.

—

Y/N went back home, feeling the weight of the weekend pressing heavily on her. She barely had time to sit down and process everything when her best friend and roommate, Billie, showed up at her bedroom door, armed with snacks and drinks.

“Hey, thought you could use some company,” Billie said, giving Y/N a warm hug as they entered.

“Thanks, Billie,” Y/N replied, her voice tinged with sadness.

They settled on the couch, surrounded by an array of comfort food and drinks. Billie opened a bag of chips and handed it to Y/N. “So, tell me everything.”

Y/N sighed, taking a deep breath before recounting the events of the weekend. She told Billie about reconnecting with Spencer, the intense emotions, and the difficult conversation that left her feeling lost and confused.

“I feel so silly,” Y/N said, heaving a big sigh. “Mourning something I can’t have. We live on opposite sides of the country. How would it ever work?”

Billie reached over, giving Y/N’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not silly at all. Feelings don’t follow logic. You’re allowed to feel sad, even if it seems impractical.”

“I just... I really thought maybe we could make it work,” Y/N said, her voice breaking.

“Hey, you never know what the future holds. Maybe things will change, or maybe you’ll find a way to be together despite the distance,” Billie said, their tone comforting.

“But what if we don’t? What if it’s just not meant to be?” Y/N asked, her eyes searching Billie’s for answers.

“Then it's not, you can't control what's out of your hands,” Billie said, offering a comforting smile.

Y/N nodded, feeling a bit more at ease. They spent the rest of the evening talking, laughing, and enjoying each other’s company. While the ache in Y/N’s heart didn’t completely disappear, she felt a sense of peace over the situation.

— 

Spencer wanted to reach out to Y/N, knowing he couldn't even use the excuse of not having her phone number—one of his best friends could hack the Pentagon for fun if she wanted. But he didn’t want to face the rejection he had a feeling would be coming his way. He knew it was impractical: his job was demanding, they lived nowhere near each other, and on top of that, they didn’t even know if they would work. Maybe the magic between them only existed in the air of the wedding.

They went weeks in radio silence, both resigning to move on. They had gone 12 years without each other; they could handle some more. That is until Spencer found something in one of his luggage pockets. He was repacking his go-bag after returning from a case when he opened a pocket that he did not often use, planning to put a fresh pack of gum in there.

He quickly took the note out and opened it, seeing it was in handwriting that he didn’t recognize. His heart skipped a beat as he began to read:

Spencer,

I’m sorry for leaving unannounced. I truly loved seeing you this weekend. It was wonderful to catch up after so long apart and to see that you are still the same sweet, loving guy. I hope you never change.

I left without saying goodbye because of my own issues, not because of anything you said or did. Please understand that. You mean so much to me, and I would hate to jeopardize our friendship over something silly like this.

If you’re ever in Vegas, you always have a place to stay.

Y/N

Finding Home Again: Part Two

Summary: Spencer and Y/N reconnect again.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, smut (18+), friends to lovers

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, slight angst, alcohol consumption, reader wears a dress & makeup, bisexual spencer reid (it's canon to me), boyband reid in mind, the fluffiest fluff you'll ever read

let me know if I missed any

Word count: 25.4k

a/n: she's thick ,, i would write them forever ,, seriously pls request a blurb about them ,, even if you don't i'll probably write them anyway

part one can be found here!!

main masterlist

Additional warnings: oral (fem receiving), male masturbation, voyerism (Y/N watches Spencer), unprotected PinV (wrap it before you tap it), heavy grinding

It had been years again, and Spencer had yet to reach out. He hadn’t wanted to invade Y/N’s privacy by asking for her number through Adam, or having Penelope find it, despite the fact that he thought about her often. Instead, he kept the note she left tucked safely in one of his books, a reminder of the weekend they spent reconnecting in Napa Valley.

As much as he wanted to reach out, Spencer felt it was best to let Y/N take the lead. He respected her need for space and hoped that she would reach out when she was ready.  

Meanwhile, Y/N had returned to her life in Las Vegas, trying to move on from the bittersweet memories of seeing Spencer again. She buried herself in work and spent time with Billie, occasionally checking in with Adam and Elizabeth who are doing absolutely wonderful in their new married life.

In an effort to move on, Y/N entered the dating pool. Being 26 years old at the time, she felt that she should get some experience under her belt. She went on a couple of dead-end first dates, had some second dates that fizzled out, and even the few that did make it to three or more didn’t last as she either got scared and cut them off or they ended it with her.

Just when she was starting to lose hope, she met Alex. Alex was a very nice person, thoughtful and patient, and they hit it off immediately. Y/N felt comfortable around Alex in a way she hadn’t with anyone else, and for the first time, she didn’t feel the urge to run away. They had been casually seeing each other for about four weeks now, and Y/N was surprised at how easy it felt.

—

Years at the Behavioral Analysis Unit had left their mark on Spencer Reid. While he still possessed the same gentle spirit and brilliant mind that Y/N had always admired, he carried with him the weight of experiences that had changed him in profound ways. Spencer had been abducted by an unsub, struggled with drug addiction, been shot on the job, and so much more.

When a case brought Spencer back to Las Vegas, he found himself wondering about Y/N. It had been years since their reunion in Napa Valley, and she lingered in his thoughts. 

He had Penelope check if Y/N was still at her old apartment, curiosity tugging at his heart. But when he learned she had moved, he hesitated to ask Penelope to find her new address. The urge to reconnect was strong, yet he respected the boundaries they had wordlessly established.

—

Sunday was shaping up to be another hectic day for the BAU. The team was deep into a complex case, and the need for caffeine was at an all-time high. Derek and Spencer volunteered to make a coffee run for everyone, hoping the fresh air would clear their minds.

As they walked into a charming little cafe, the familiar hum of conversations and the rich aroma of coffee enveloped them. Spencer ran a hand through his hair and scanned the menu, trying to decide on what to order for the team.

Derek nudged him, nodding toward the barista with a playful grin. “Reid, I’ll handle the orders. Why don’t you grab us a table while we wait?”

Spencer nodded, taking a moment to glance around the bustling cafe. As his eyes swept across the room, he froze, his heart stopping.

There, at a corner table, sat Y/N. She looked radiant, her laughter mingling with the soft classical music playing overhead. But she wasn’t alone; sitting across from her was another person, clearly her date. 

Spencer felt a lot of emotions surge through him—excitement, surprise, and a hint of something else he couldn’t quite place. He watched as Y/N leaned in to say something to her date, her eyes sparkling with genuine interest.

“Hey, Pretty Boy, you okay?” Derek’s voice cut through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present.

Spencer cleared his throat, nodding slightly. “Yeah, I just... saw someone I know.”

Derek followed Spencer’s gaze and spotted Y/N. A knowing smile spread across his face. “Well, well. Go talk to her, Reid.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. He hadn’t seen Y/N since their chance encounter in Napa Valley, and now here she was, right in front of him, living her life. He decided to leave it be, he didn’t feel like being rejected again. Or worse, having a pleasant conversation end with her walking away, again. 

Instead, he shook his head and fixed Derek with a look that said, not right now. Together they waited for their coffee and quietly chatted about the case. 

Y/N was lost in her thoughts as she chatted with Alex. Her eyes had drifted when she heard his familiar voice. She could have sworn she imagined her date as Spencer Reid because there he was, at a table not even five feet away.

Gone were the glasses and slicked-back hair, now replaced with contacts and curls that framed his face perfectly. His usual cardigan had been traded out for a crisp button-down with the sleeves pushed up, revealing surprisingly toned forearms. The Converse he usually wore were replaced with polished oxfords.

Y/N excused herself and stood up as if possessed by an unseen force, making her way over to his table.

“Spencer...?” she said, disbelief coloring her voice as he looked up.

Derek took notice of the same girl from before, grinning widely. “Yes?”

Spencer playfully hit Derek on the arm, but his laughter was short-lived. “Hi, Y/N,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of distance.

“You cut your hair,” she said, taking in his new look.

“I know,” Spencer replied, a hint of no shit in his smile.

“You look so much older,” Y/N remarked, trying to reconcile the image of the Spencer she knew with the man standing before her.

“Well, four years will do that to a person,” Spencer said, his gaze hardening slightly.

“So will getting shot at,” Derek jested with a mischievous grin, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “You’ve been shot at??”

“We’re in the FBI, sweetheart. You gonna introduce us, pretty boy?” Derek asked, flashing his charming smile.

Spencer had mentioned Derek to Y/N during their time together in Napa Valley, though they hadn’t been extremely close then. Likewise, he hadn’t told Derek much about Y/N, keeping their relationship mostly to himself.

“Sure. Y/N, this is my partner Derek. Derek, this is an old friend, Y/N,” Spencer introduced them, his voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside him.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were together,” Y/N said, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

“Aren’t you here with a date, sugar?” Derek teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder to see Alex, who was watching the interaction with mild curiosity. “Oh yeah, yeah, I am.”

Derek chuckled, sensing the underlying tension. “Well, why don’t you get back to them and leave Dr. Reid and me to our business? Hmm?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sorry,” Y/N said, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “It was good to see you, Spence.”

“You too, bye Y/N,” Spencer replied, his voice cool even as his heart ached with a bittersweet feeling as she returned to her date.

As Y/N settled back into her seat across from Alex, she couldn’t help but feel a tug at her heart. Seeing Spencer had stirred up emotions she thought she’d buried long ago. She tried to focus on her date, but her mind kept drifting back to Spencer and the unexpected encounter, the way he had seemed different yet so familiar.

She found herself glancing over at Spencer’s table more often than she intended, unable to shake the feeling that something significant had just passed between them. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and longing, and she realized that she wanted him more than she cared to admit.

—

On the walk back to the precinct, Derek finally broke the silence. “Alright, Reid. You wanna tell me what that was about? Who’s the girl?”

Spencer hesitated, then replied, “Her older brother was in my grade. We studied a lot together. I knew her from a distance. It was only a little over a year.”

“C’mon now, I know there’s more. Summer romance, perhaps?” Derek probed with a teasing grin.

Spencer snorted. “No, nothing like that. We were twelve.”

“You’re killing me, dude. It can’t be that bad, just tell me.” He said, throwing his friend a tired look.

“Alright, alright,” Spencer said, relenting as he recapped the wedding. 

“I got an invitation to her brother Adam's wedding," Spencer began, a hint of wistfulness in his voice. "He was always kind to me in high school, so I felt like I should go, even though I was nervous about seeing everyone again."

Derek nodded, listening intently as Spencer continued.

"I hadn't seen Y/N in years, and I didn’t know if I'd see her. Her brother booked the room arrangements, and there was a mix-up.”

Spencer paused, recalling the awkward but unexpectedly comforting encounter. "Y/N and I ended up sharing a room because there were no other available ones. It was unexpected, but we managed to reconnect."

“What was it like seeing her again?” Derek asked, intrigued.

“It was surreal," Spencer admitted, a small smile playing on his lips. "She was different, but the same. We spent time reminiscing about our childhood, and for a moment, it felt like no time had passed. She was funny, charming, and... she really made me feel like I belonged there."

Derek chuckled. "Sounds like you two hit it off."

"Yeah, we did," Spencer replied, his expression turning somber. "But then it got complicated. We spent the weekend together, talking and laughing, but when it came time to really confront what was happening between us, she left without saying goodbye. She left me a note explaining that she wasn't ready for anything more."

“Oh shit, man… and you haven’t talked to her since?” Derek asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Didn’t want to get rejected again,” Spencer admitted, his voice carrying a hint of resignation. “She clearly didn’t know what she wanted.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Derek said thoughtfully, rubbing his stubble. “That makes sense. From that alone, she sounds pretty wishy-washy.”

“Mhm, drove me crazy,” Spencer confessed, shaking his head.

“In a good way?” Derek asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“In every way,” Spencer replied, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“You gonna see her again while we’re here?” Derek pressed, curious about Spencer’s next move.

“Not sure. She’s seeing someone,” Spencer said, a trace of dismissiveness in his tone.

“I see… but you said you were friends?” Derek said with a teasing smirk.

Spencer laughed. “Alright, you got me. Maybe I should talk to her.”

“In my extremely unbiased, objective, open-minded opinion, yes, you should,” Derek said, nodding sagely.

“She thinks we’re dating,” Spencer said, amusement coloring his voice.

“I know,” Derek laughed, enjoying the situation.

“Thanks for going with that. It felt really good,” Spencer admitted, feeling grateful for Derek’s support.

“I thought it might, Pretty Boy. You’d do the same for me,” Derek replied, sticking his hand out for a sideways shake.

Spencer firmly took his hand, a sense of camaraderie passing between them. “Yeah. I would.”

As they continued their walk, Spencer felt a sense of decidedness. Talking to Y/N seemed like the right thing to do, and with Derek’s encouragement, he was ready to take that step. 

—

Spencer was never comfortable with the idea of invading an innocent person’s privacy, especially when it came to Y/N. He had contemplated asking Penelope to find Y/N’s new address, but that felt like crossing a line he wasn’t ready to cross. Instead, he asked her to check if Y/N still worked at the same office in Las Vegas. Penelope’s search confirmed it—bingo. 

By Monday afternoon, Spencer had made up his mind to see Y/N. After a productive day at work, including a briefing with Hotch and completing a geographical profile for an ongoing case, he felt ready to take the plunge.

At precisely 4:45 p.m., Spencer arrived at Y/N's office building. The glass doors reflected the late afternoon sun, casting warm hues across the lobby. Spencer took a deep breath and positioned himself near the entrance, hoping to catch her as she left for the day.

He glanced around, adjusting his jacket and trying to appear casual despite the rapid beating of his heart. People streamed out of the building, but there was no sign of Y/N yet.

In recent years, Spencer had lost a lot of his shy demeanor, replacing it with a hard edge that came from the shit he'd endured. He was no longer the timid young agent who second-guessed himself. Yet, nothing made him feel nervous quite like the thought of a confrontation with Y/N.

In the past, she had always gotten the upper hand, often steering their interactions with an ease that left him both amused and bewildered. Not that he wanted to dominate their conversations, but being able to call the shots for once would feel nice. It would be a change of pace, a chance to show her that he wasn't the same person she once knew.

He couldn't help but wonder how this meeting would go. Maybe Y/N would piss him off enough for him to walk away this time. Probably not, but it was a good thought. He had replayed this scenario countless times in his mind, envisioning a confident, collected version of himself handling the situation with poise.

But deep down, he knew that Y/N had a way of unraveling him, of reaching into the core of who he was and drawing out the raw, unfiltered version of Spencer Reid. And perhaps that was part of the reason he felt so drawn to her.

Spencer took a deep breath, reminding himself why he was here. He wanted answers, closure, or maybe just a chance to reconnect with someone who had left an indelible mark on his life. It was a step he needed to take, regardless of the outcome.

And then he saw her.

Y/N emerged from the doors, her presence instantly recognizable. She moved with a natural grace, her expression focused as she checked something on her phone. Spencer's heart skipped a beat, a flood of memories washing over him.

He called her name softly, hoping to catch her attention without startling her. 

"Y/N?"

She looked up, her eyes widening in surprise as they locked onto his. For a moment, neither of them spoke, caught in a silent exchange of emotions and unspoken words. 

“Spencer?” she finally said, her voice carrying disbelief and curiosity. 

“Hi,” Spencer replied, offering a tentative smile. “I hope I’m not intruding.” 

Y/N blinked, processing his presence. “No, not at all. What are you doing here?” 

“I wanted to see you,” Spencer admitted, his tone earnest. “I’ve been thinking a lot about... everything. I didn’t want to leave things as they were.” 

Y/N hesitated, a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings rushing through her. Seeing Spencer again was unexpected, but a part of her felt relief—like she’d been waiting for this moment without realizing it. 

“I’m glad you came,” she said finally, a soft smile breaking through her initial surprise.

Spencer nodded, not wanting to give away his excitement at her words. His heart leaped at the idea that maybe she wanted this as much as he did.

“So… would you like to come to my place?” Y/N suggested, her voice gentle yet inviting. “We could talk, catch up?”

“Sure,” Spencer replied, trying to keep his tone casual even though anticipation was bubbling just beneath the surface.

—

Back in Y/N's living room, Spencer was determined to keep his emotions in check. He took a seat on the couch, his posture relaxed yet deliberate, ready to lead the conversation with a directness that was unusual for him.

Y/N returned from the kitchen with two steaming mugs of coffee, handing one to Spencer before settling into the chair across from him. She could sense the tension in the air, a blend of anticipation and unresolved feelings hanging between them.

“So, what’s been on your mind, Spence?” Y/N asked, her tone light but laced with curiosity.

Spencer took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. He knew this was his chance to express what he had held back for so long, and he didn’t want to shy away from the truth.

“Y/N, I want to be honest with you,” he began, his voice steady and calm. “Our last encounter—the wedding—sucked. You walked away without saying goodbye, and that hurt. A lot.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, guilt flickering in her expression. “I’m sorry, Spencer. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Okay,” Spencer replied, meeting her gaze with intensity. “But you did. And I need you to understand that. I thought we had something real, something worth exploring, but you ran.”

Y/N felt a knot tighten in her chest, Spencer's words hitting home. She had always known there were unresolved feelings between them, but hearing it so plainly brought it all to the forefront.

“I was scared,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of what it meant, scared of messing it up. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Spencer nodded, taking in her admission. “I get that. I do. But you need to know that it wasn’t easy for me either. I wanted to be there for you, but I couldn’t if you wouldn’t let me.”

There was a moment of silence, the weight of their conversation settling in. Y/N took a sip of her coffee, allowing Spencer’s words to sink in.

“I’m sorry, Spencer,” she said again, her sincerity clear in her eyes. “I didn’t realize how much it affected you.”

Spencer softened slightly, seeing her genuine regret. “I don’t want to hold grudges, Y/N. I just needed you to know where I stood.”

Y/N nodded, a sense of relief mingling with her guilt. “Thank you for telling me. It means a lot.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the tension easing as they both absorbed the emotional exchange. Spencer, though still guarded, felt a sense of closure beginning to form.

“I’m glad we talked,” he said finally, a hint of a smile on his lips. “It feels good to clear the air.”

“Me too,” Y/N replied, returning his smile. “I’ve missed you, Spencer. More than I realized.”

“I missed you too,” he said, smiling softly.

They sat there for a moment, the silence filled with an unspoken acknowledgment of the tug they both felt towards one another. Spencer could sense the nervous energy radiating from Y/N, excitement and uncertainty that matched his own feelings.

“So, um, how long are you in town for?” Y/N stumbled over her words slightly, a bit flustered by how handsome Spencer looked sitting in her living room, alone, in private.

“Just until we close the case,” Spencer replied, rubbing his hands on his pants, feeling awkward. “Hopefully not long.”

“I see,” she said, her voice trailing off.

“Yup,” he said, trying to find the right words to bridge the gap between them.

“Well, I’m glad I got to see you at all,” Y/N said, offering a small, tentative smile.

“Me too,” Spencer echoed, his mind racing with thoughts of what this meeting could mean for them.

“Um, Spence—I, if you want, would you want to get dinner with me?” Y/N asked, her voice carrying a note of hope.

“Like a date?” he said bluntly, catching her off guard.

Y/N’s face flushed fully, something Spencer thoroughly enjoyed, feeling a bit smug at having elicited such a reaction. “Yeah… like a date.”

“Aren’t you seeing someone?” Spencer asked, the hint of annoyance creeping into his voice.

“Oh, uh, Alex? I mean, kind of, but—”

“Then, no,” he said firmly, cutting her off.

“No, Spencer, it’s not like that. It’s casual,” Y/N tried to explain, her tone pleading.

“Is everything casual to you?” he snapped, standing up abruptly. “You just run away when things get real?”

Y/N was taken aback by the intensity of his words, her heart sinking as she realized how deeply she had hurt him. “Spencer, that’s not fair—”

“Isn’t it?” he interrupted, his eyes flashing with anger and hurt. “You left without a word, and now you want to pick up like nothing happened?”

“I didn’t know what to do back then,” she said, her voice breaking. “I was scared. Of what it meant, of how I felt. I’m sorry.”

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair. The frustration he felt was visible, but so was the longing that had never quite faded. “I just needed you to be honest with me, Y/N. To let me in.”

“I know,” she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I know I messed up, and I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. But I want to try, Spencer. I want to make it right.”

Spencer hesitated, the conflict within him evident. He had imagined this moment many times, wondering if he would ever have the courage to confront Y/N about the past. Now that it was happening, he wasn’t sure how to navigate the emotions swirling inside him.

“Look,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “I need some time to think about all of this. I want to believe you, but I need to know you’re serious.”

“I am,” Y/N promised, her voice steady despite the vulnerability in her eyes. “I care about you, Spencer. I always have.”

They stood there in the living room, the air thick with unresolved tension and a hint of hope. Spencer took a deep breath, feeling the weight of their shared history and the possibility of a future that might still be within reach.

“Okay,” he said finally, nodding. “I’m going to go back to my hotel, alone. Give me your phone number and I’ll call you tomorrow. But no more games, Y/N.”

“No more games,” she agreed, a small, hopeful smile breaking through the uncertainty.

—

When Spencer arrived at the precinct in the morning, he immediately dove into his work. The case was complex, demanding his full attention and analytical skills. As he focused on the files spread out before him, he failed to notice the bouquet of white and lilac roses sitting elegantly in a mosaic glass vase on the front desk.

After everyone got settled in and Hotch conducted the morning debrief, one of the deputies walked in, holding the vase of flowers.

“Hey, someone left these at the front desk. They’re for a... Doc Ock?” the deputy announced with a bemused expression.

Spencer flushed, caught off guard by the unexpected delivery and the memory of waking up wrapped around Y/N. He quickly stood up, his face a shade of pink as he made his way to the front of the room.

“Thank you,” he said with a nod, taking the flowers from the deputy’s hands.

As he returned to his desk, he could feel the eyes of his teammates on him, each of them filled with curiosity. He tried to ignore the knowing smiles and raised eyebrows as he carefully retrieved the card nestled within the bouquet.

Spencer unfolded the card, angling it slightly to avoid any prying eyes. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized Y/N’s now familiar handwriting.

Hey Doc,

I think it's silly that people usually only buy flowers for celebration or apologies. I also think that you deserve flowers all the time for any reason. Beautiful people should have beautiful things. I know you’re going to read into the meaning of the colors, and yes, I did my research. While white roses signify apology, I already said sorry, so you’ll have to take them for the meaning I intended: a new beginning. As for the lilac…

Xoxox

Petit Chou

Spencer couldn’t help but smile as he read the note, his heart warming at the thoughtfulness behind it. He felt a sense of joy and anticipation that he realized only ever came with being around Y/N.

“Who’s it from, Pretty Boy?” Derek teased, trying to get a glimpse of the card.

Spencer quickly slipped the note back into the envelope, maintaining an air of mystery. “Just a friend,” he replied, unable to hide the hint of happiness in his voice.

“Looks like a pretty special friend,” JJ remarked with a wink.

Spencer nodded, feeling grateful for the unexpected gesture and the possibility of rekindling what he once thought was lost.

“Yeah,” he said, a soft smile playing on his lips. “She is.”

As he placed the vase on his desk, the sweet scent of the roses filled the room, a reminder of the new beginning that awaited him with Y/N. It was a moment of hope and renewal, one that Spencer cherished deeply.

It was hard to focus on work that day, with Y/N heavy on Spencer’s mind once again. She was absolutely nuts in his eyes, sending lilac roses of all things…love at first sight.

—

Y/N received Spencer's phone call as promised. She was so nervous she’d miss it that she elected to work from home that day. When the phone finally rang, she took a deep breath before answering, feeling the anticipation and excitement.

“Hello?” Y/N said, a smile evident in her tone.

“Hey, psycho,” Spencer teased, a hint of laughter in his voice.

“I’m afraid you have the wrong number,” Y/N replied playfully. “I’m crazy, not a psycho.”

“Agree to disagree,” Spencer countered, grinning on his end of the line.

“That’s a heavy accusation coming from you, Doctor,” Y/N said, settling into the easy banter they had always shared.

“Lilac roses?” Spencer questioned, shifting the conversation back to the flowers she had sent.

“You figured it out, huh?” Y/N replied, a touch of pride in her voice.

“You knew I would,” Spencer said, his tone softening.

“I knew you would,” Y/N echoed, the sincerity in her words clear.

“You wanted me to know,” Spencer pressed, curious about the depth of her intentions.

“I needed you to know,” Y/N confessed, her voice carrying a vulnerability she rarely showed.

“Why?” Spencer asked, genuinely wanting to understand.

There was a pause on the line, the weight of the moment hanging between them. Y/N took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully

“Because it’s true,” she said finally, her voice steady but full of emotion. “I’ve always had a hard time expressing myself, especially when it comes to you, Spencer. I wanted you to understand how important you are to me. How important you’ve always been to me.”

Spencer felt his heart swell at her words, the sincerity and openness touching something deep within him. He had always sensed a special connection between them, but hearing Y/N express it so openly made him realize just how much he had missed her.

“Thank you,” Spencer said softly, his voice holding gratitude and affection.

“Anything for you,” Y/N replied, her words warm and reassuring

“I have to go, but I’ll talk to you soon,” Spencer said, regret tinged with the promise of future conversations.

“Okay, talk soon,” Y/N responded, a smile audible in her voice.

They ended the call, and Spencer stood for a moment, phone still in hand, processing the conversation. He felt a renewed sense of hope, knowing that this was just the beginning of a new chapter—one that he hoped would lead them back to each other, this time for good.

—

Y/N was stuck smiling like a moron after her conversation with Spencer, feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush all over again. Her heart was fluttering, and she couldn't stop replaying the conversation in her head, each word replaying with a sense of joy and promise. Thank god she stayed home from work, her coworkers would have had a field day with the dopey look on her face. 

That was something Alex never made her feel. Alex. Shit.

Her mind jolted back to reality as she realized she had another important call to make. The weight of her decision settled in her chest, but she knew what she needed to do.

Y/N took a deep breath, pulling up Alex's number on her phone. She knew it wouldn’t be an easy conversation, but it was necessary. Alex deserved honesty, and Y/N had to follow her heart, even if it meant ending things with someone who had been nothing but kind to her.

After a few rings, Alex picked up, their voice warm and familiar. "Hey, Y/N. How’s it going?"

“Hey, Alex,” Y/N replied, trying to keep her tone light despite the seriousness of the call. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

“Sure,” they said, picking up on the slight tension in her voice. “What’s up?”

Y/N took another deep breath, choosing her words carefully. “I wanted to talk to you about something important. I’ve been doing some thinking, and I feel like it’s only fair to be honest with you.”

“Okay…” Alex said, their tone cautious.

With that weight lifted, her mind returned to Spencer, and the possibilities of what their renewed relationship might bring. Y/N felt hopeful about the future. She was ready to embrace whatever came next, knowing that this time, she would be honest with herself and with Spencer about what she truly wanted.

—

Unfortunately, Spencer didn’t have another chance to see Y/N before the team had to return to Virginia. The case had wrapped up quickly, and duty called them back to Quantico sooner than he had hoped. As the plane soared through the sky, Spencer found himself staring out the window, his thoughts consumed by Y/N and the possibilities that lay ahead.

Once back in his apartment, Spencer wasted no time. He dropped his bags, kicked off his shoes, and immediately reached for his phone. He needed to hear Y/N’s voice, to let her know that he was serious about pursuing whatever it was they had rekindled.

He dialed her number, anticipation building as the line rang.

“Hello?” Y/N answered, her voice a comforting balm to his weary mind.

“Hey, it’s me,” Spencer said, smiling despite his exhaustion. “I just got back home.”

“Hey, me. Your voice sounds different here, did it get deeper?” Y/N teased, her playful tone immediately lightening Spencer’s mood.

“You’re an idiot,” Spencer laughed affectionately, the sound of her voice soothing the stress from his long journey.

“So first I’m a psycho, and now I’m an idiot. That’s a lot of negative self-talk, me. Are you okay?” Y/N quipped, her humor shining through.

Spencer got a good laugh in, thoroughly entertained by Y/N’s sense of humor. “I’m okay,” he assured, shaking his head in amusement.

“Listen, I know we didn’t get much time together while I was in Vegas, but I wanted to tell you that I’m serious about us. I’d like to plan a trip out to visit you as soon as I can so we can try dating. See if it even works between the two of us.”

Y/N was silent for a moment, and Spencer held his breath, waiting for her response.

“I’d really like that, Spencer,” she finally said, her tone filled with warmth and excitement. “I was actually hired by a magazine to write this article, and I think you’d be the perfect person to help me!”

“Oh, really?” Spencer asked, still gullible despite her teasing tone. “What’s it about?”

“Oh, you’re going to love it! It’s going to be called ‘How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days,’ and—”

“On second thought, I’m so busy here I don’t think I can get any time off,” Spencer teased seriously, playing along with her joke.

“Oh no! My perfect plan!” Y/N laughed, her voice a melody of genuine joy.

Spencer chuckled, his heart feeling light and full. “You got me there. But seriously, I’d love to visit.”

“Good, because I wasn’t joking about the visiting part,” Y/N said, her voice softening. “I really want to see you, Spencer. And not just for an article.”

“I want to see you too,” Spencer replied earnestly. “I’ll look at my schedule and figure out when I can come. I want to make this work.”

“Take your time,” Y/N reassured, her sincerity evident. “Whenever you can come, I’ll be here.”

They spent the rest of the conversation discussing potential dates and places they could visit together, both feeling the excitement of what lay ahead. Their banter was effortless, their connection undeniable, and Spencer found himself looking forward to this new chapter.

—

As luck would have it, Y/N’s job offered much more flexibility than Spencer’s, allowing her to take time off with relative ease. With that in mind, Spencer approached Hotch about taking two weeks off, explaining his plans and the importance of the time off. Hotch agreed, granting Spencer the time away with the condition that he remain available in case a serious case arose. In such an event, Spencer would work from Quantico alongside Penelope.

On the other hand, Y/N was allotted a two-week vacation on the condition that she take her computer and remain accessible for any urgent work matters. She readily agreed, buzzing with excitement at the thought of seeing Spencer and experiencing his world in Virginia. 

The month leading up to her trip seemed to fly by. Spencer had been called on another case almost immediately after their initial reunion, but they stayed in constant contact.

Now, the day had finally arrived. Y/N sat on the plane, her heart racing with anticipation. She pulled out her phone, sending Spencer a quick text to let him know she had made it onto the plane and that they were about to take off.

Hey Spence, I just wanted to let you know I’m on the plane, and we’re about to take off! I can’t wait to see you. :)

She glanced out the window as the plane began to taxi down the runway. As the plane lifted into the sky, Y/N closed her eyes, letting the hum of the engines soothe her nerves. The flight would be a few hours, giving her plenty of time to reflect on the past and the possibilities of the future.

Meanwhile, in Virginia Spencer received Y/N’s text just as he was tidying up his apartment, a sense of excitement coursing through him. He had spent the past week preparing for her visit, ensuring everything was perfect for her arrival. He wanted to share his world with her, to show her the life he had built in Virginia.

He texted back quickly, his fingers flying over the keys.

Hey, Y/N! I’m so glad to hear you’re on your way. I can’t wait to see you. Safe travels!

As he hit send, Spencer felt a flutter of anticipation. It had been a long time since he had looked forward to something with such eagerness, and the prospect of spending time with Y/N filled him with joy.

—

Spencer stood outside the baggage claim at Dulles International Airport, his heart racing with anticipation. In his hand, he held a small, handwritten sign that read Mrs. Ock, a playful nod to the nickname that had become a lighthearted joke between them.

As travelers streamed past him, Spencer scanned the crowd, his eyes searching for the familiar face he had been looking forward to seeing. The excitement was palpable, a mix of nerves and happiness bubbling within him.

And then he saw her.

Y/N emerged from the crowd, looking slightly travel-worn but radiating the same beauty and charm that had drawn him to her in the first place. Her eyes lit up when she spotted him, a smile breaking across her face as she approached.

“Spencer!” she called, her voice rising above the chatter of the busy terminal.

He grinned, holding up the sign as she walked toward him. “Welcome to Virginia, Mrs. Ock,” he said, his tone teasing but affectionate.

Y/N laughed, reaching him with open arms. “I can’t believe you actually made a sign,” she said, wrapping him in a hug that felt both familiar and new.

“It seemed fitting,” Spencer replied, embracing her tightly, feeling the warmth and comfort of her presence. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Me too,” Y/N said, pulling back slightly to look at him, her eyes sparkling with joy. “I’ve missed you.”

They lingered for a moment, soaking in the reality of being together again. The weeks apart had only heightened their anticipation, and now, standing face to face, it felt like no time had passed at all.

“So, what’s the plan?” Y/N asked, her excitement evident as she retrieved her luggage from the carousel.

“Well,” Spencer began, taking her suitcase in hand, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I thought we could start with a seven-hour history of every event that has ever taken place in Virginia, followed by a pop quiz. And then, you could help me translate this new book I got from Korean to Russian.”

Y/N burst into laughter, shaking her head at his playful seriousness. “Sounds perfect,” she replied, playing along. “But before the history lesson, are there any high ledges I can stand on top of? You know, just for dramatic effect.”

Spencer chuckled, enjoying their banter. “Oh, I’m sure we can find a nice, tall building for you to contemplate life from. It might even offer a panoramic view of all the historical landmarks I’m going to lecture you about.”

“Excellent. I’ll need a good view while I ponder my life choices,” Y/N teased, giving him a playful nudge as they made their way through the bustling airport.

As they walked out into the warm Virginia air, Spencer felt a sense of happiness he had forgotten he could feel. The playfulness between them was infectious, a reminder of the tie they shared that had survived time and distance.

“Seriously, though,” Spencer said, turning to face Y/N as they reached the car. “I have a few places in mind that I think you’ll really enjoy. But we can save sightseeing for another day. I’m sure you’re tired.”

“Spence,” she said, gazing up at him with a smile, “I’ll do anything you want to do.”

A mischievous glint appeared in Spencer’s eyes as he replied, “Well, I was recently gifted the Kama Sutra...”

“Spencer Reid!” Y/N exclaimed, her cheeks flushing as she playfully smacked his arm. Her laughter filled the air, a sound that warmed Spencer’s heart.

He chuckled, enjoying her reaction. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But really, we can do whatever you feel like. I’m just happy you’re here.”

Y/N shook her head, a grin still on her face as she settled into the car. “You’ve changed, Doctor Reid. I like this new side of you.”

Spencer flashed a charming smile as he started the engine. “You bring it out in me,” he admitted, glancing at her with genuine affection.

—

As they drove through the quaint streets of Virginia, the passing scenery was a blend of historic charm and natural beauty, with tree-lined streets and quaint buildings that painted a picturesque backdrop for their reunion.

“Virginia is beautiful,” Y/N remarked, her eyes taking in the scenery with awe.

“It is,” Spencer agreed, feeling a swell of pride. “And I’m glad I get to show it to you.”

The drive felt both comforting and exhilarating, the anticipation of the days ahead making each mile more exciting.

When they finally arrived at Spencer’s apartment, Y/N stepped out of the car, her eyes wide with curiosity and excitement.

“This is it,” Spencer said, opening the door and motioning for her to enter. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

Y/N stepped inside, taking in the carefully curated space that reflected Spencer’s personality perfectly. The shelves were lined with books, of course, and the decor was a mix of comfort and intellectual charm.

“It’s exactly how I imagined it,” Y/N said, turning to him with a smile. “Cozy and full of books.”

Spencer chuckled, closing the door behind them. “I hope it’s not too overwhelming.”

“Not at all,” Y/N replied, her tone sincere. “It’s perfect.”

“Well, I’ll show you my bedroom. We can put your stuff in there,” Spencer said, leading the way down the hallway.

“Oh great! And where will you be sleeping?” Y/N teased, raising an eyebrow as she followed him.

“In the bathtub, obviously,” Spencer replied with a smirk.

“Fantastic, we don’t need a repeat of last time,” Y/N shot back, grinning at the memory of their playful exchanges.

“Sure, Mrs. Ock, I know how much you hated it,” Spencer quipped, chuckling at their shared joke.

“I am not at liberty to confirm or deny that,” Y/N said, feigning innocence.

“Mhm,” Spencer said, rolling his eyes playfully as they reached his bedroom. “So, this is the bedroom, where I like to keep my clothes and lie awake at night thinking about serial killers.”

“Ohh, so relaxing,” Y/N said, taking in the room with a mock-serious expression. “Is this where you keep the Kama Sutra too?”

Spencer laughed, shaking his head. “No, that’s in a special place reserved for when I really need to unwind after a long day.”

“Oh, of course,” Y/N said, nodding sagely. “Everyone needs a little light reading before bed.”

They both burst into laughter, the easy banter between them an indication of the comfort they shared. 

As Y/N unpacked her belongings, she felt a sense of belonging that she hadn’t anticipated. Spencer’s space was filled with little details that made it uniquely his—bookmarks tucked into half-read novels, maps pinned to the walls, and a cozy armchair that looked like it had been well-loved over the years.

“Thanks for letting me stay here,” Y/N said, glancing over at Spencer as she placed her suitcase in the corner.

“Of course,” Spencer replied, his voice warm with sincerity. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Y/N smiled, feeling the weight of the journey that had led them to this moment. The excitement and familiarity, a step into the unknown that felt just right.

—

That evening, after Y/N and Spencer enjoyed some takeout for dinner, they settled on Spencer’s couch, ready to wind down with a movie. The room was cozy and dimly lit, the perfect setting for a relaxing night in.

“I’m not watching How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days,” Spencer declared as they discussed movie options, a playful smirk on his face.

“It’s a classic!” Y/N protested, leaning back into the cushions with an exaggerated pout.

“It’s literally not,” Spencer countered, chuckling at her enthusiasm.

“But I love that movie,” Y/N insisted, giving him her best puppy-dog eyes.

“And I do not care at all,” Spencer replied, shaking his head with mock sternness.

“Fine, asshole, what do you want to watch?” Y/N relented, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her smile.

“We could watch one of the Star Wars movies,” Spencer suggested, his eyes lighting up at the thought.

“Let me guess… Return of the Jedi?” Y/N teased, raising an eyebrow knowingly.

“No…” Spencer said, dragging out the word in a way that told Y/N she had guessed right.

“You just want to see Princess Leia in a bikini!” she exclaimed, playfully nudging him with her elbow.

Spencer laughed, the sound genuine and free. “I’ll have you know that Return of the Jedi is a pivotal moment in the saga’s narrative arc, with or without the bikini.”

“Oh, sure, sure. It’s all about the ‘narrative arc,’” Y/N teased, putting air quotes around his words.

“Fine, if you insist,” Spencer said, finally admitting with a sheepish grin. “Leia does have her moments.”

“Busted!” Y/N laughed, delighted by his admission.

Spencer rolled his eyes, feigning exasperation, but he couldn’t hide his smile. “What can I say? I have a soft spot for rebellious princesses.”

“Don’t we all?” Y/N said, settling back against the couch cushions. “Alright, let’s watch it. But I reserve the right to critique every plot hole and outdated special effect.”

“Deal,” Spencer agreed, grabbing the remote and selecting Return of the Jedi.

As the opening crawl began, Y/N and Spencer settled in, the familiar theme music filling the room. They watched as the story unfolded, occasionally pausing to discuss their favorite scenes or to laugh at Y/N’s witty commentary on the more dated aspects of the film.

About halfway through the movie, Y/N got up to go to the bathroom. When she returned, she was surprised to find Spencer waiting with a playful look in his eyes. As she walked around the couch, he held out his hand to her, signaling for her to take it.

With a curious smile, Y/N accepted his hand, only to be gently pulled down next to him, their sides pressed comfortably together. Spencer then let go of her hand in favor of wrapping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, and kissing her head softly.

“Did… did I just get romanced by Spencer Reid?” Y/N asked, her voice filled with teasing disbelief.

“Shhh, the movie’s on,” Spencer replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Are you flirting with me?” Y/N pressed, glancing up at him with a knowing grin.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Spencer said, feigning innocence as he tried to focus on the screen.

Y/N wasn’t having it. She proceeded to poke her fingers into Spencer’s ticklish side, causing him to squirm and laugh despite himself.

“Okay, uncle! Uncle!” Spencer finally conceded between fits of laughter. “Yes, I’m flirting with you!”

“Good, loser,” Y/N said, settling back against him with a satisfied smile.

“I’m going to remember this,” Spencer warned playfully.

“You remember everything,” Y/N teased, poking him gently in the ribs.

—

As they tidied up and got ready to call it a night, Y/N couldn’t help but reflect on how perfect the evening had been. The easy laughter and shared moments reminded her of why she had been so drawn to Spencer in the first place.

“Thanks for indulging me,” Spencer said, turning to face her as they stood in the living room.

“You gave me no choice," Y/N teased, "I hope you dream of me in the golden bikini.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go find my… reading material.”

“Pervert!” Y/N laughed, swatting his arm. “You’re so bold now.”

“Is that okay?” Spencer asked, his voice dropping to a more serious tone as he searched her eyes for an answer.

“It’s more than okay,” Y/N replied softly, her gaze meeting his with amusement and something deeper.

The two got ready for bed, Spencer being convinced Y/N had put on the smallest things she could find in her suitcase to torture him. Luckily, he wasn’t still the same bumbling idiot he was four years ago—he didn't get hard when the wind brushed by anymore.

He might not actually have the Kama Sutra, but he had finally indulged in self-pleasure. Let's just say, he holds himself together a lot better now.

—

Spencer could not hold himself together at all. He woke up spooning Y/N once again, albeit less like an octopus and more like a boyfriend. His very hard dick was pressing into her very soft ass, waking the rest of his body up very quickly. He swallowed, trying to calm himself and think of literally anything else, but it was no use.

The feel of her warmth against him, the rise and fall of her breathing, was all-consuming. Not wanting to scare her too soon, especially considering how things went last time, Spencer eased out of bed as carefully as possible, trying not to disturb her. He slipped into the shower, hoping the cold water might calm his nerves.

Y/N didn’t even remember falling asleep last night; she was just so comfortable in Spencer’s bed. She was surrounded by the rich smell of him, the warmth of his covers, and the knowledge that he was there. It was as if the sheets were wrapped around her like a cocoon of security, and she didn’t really want to get up.

She sighed contentedly, letting her eyes drift open, only to find Spencer missing from the bed. Much to her disappointment, he wasn’t beside her anymore. But the sound of the shower running from the bathroom clued her in to where he had run off to.

Spencer’s apartment only had one bathroom, and now that she was tuned into the sound of running water, staying in bed was a luxury she couldn’t afford. The pressing need to pee was becoming more urgent by the second.

Getting out of bed, she padded softly toward the bathroom, considering the situation. This might be too intimate for two people who said they would try dating but still hadn’t even kissed. But it was this or pee on his floor. Being the germaphobe Spencer is, she didn’t think he’d appreciate that too much.

She hesitated for a moment, then raised her hand to knock gently on the bathroom door. “Spencer?” she called, her voice slightly muffled by the door.

Startled by her voice, Spencer dropped the soap with a thud. He cursed under his breath, fumbling to pick it up. “Uh, yeah?” he replied, trying to sound casual despite the surprise.

“Can I come in?” Y/N asked, shifting from foot to foot, hoping he’d understand her urgency.

“...Why?” Spencer asked cautiously, the water continuing to patter around him in the shower.

Y/N couldn’t help but smirk, even though he couldn’t see it. “Well, I didn’t get to see you naked in Napa,” she teased, hoping to lighten the situation with a joke.

“Y/N!” Spencer spluttered, feeling his cheeks flush even though he knew she was just kidding.

“I need to pee really bad,” she admitted, the humor dropping from her tone to emphasize the urgency.

There was a brief pause, and Y/N could almost hear the wheels turning in Spencer’s head as he considered her request.

“Fine,” Spencer finally relented with a sigh, “just don’t look, please. It’s a glass shower.”

“Promise,” Y/N replied, her tone both relieved and playful. She opened the door just enough to slip inside, determined to keep her eyes averted as she made a beeline for the toilet.

As she settled down, she couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation, the familiarity of it feeling strangely comforting. “You know, this is definitely a new level of intimacy for us.”

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head as he tried to focus on rinsing off. “Yeah, well, just another day in the life of Dr. Reid.”

Y/N finished up and washed her hands, keeping her back turned to him the entire time to respect his request for privacy. As she headed back out, she paused by the door, glancing over her shoulder with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Thanks, Spence. Oh, one more thing,” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice.

“What’s that?” Spencer asked, glancing at her curiously from behind the glass shower door.

“Did your ass get bigger?” she quipped, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him a little more.

Spencer burst into laughter, the sound echoing off the tiles. “Get out!” he exclaimed, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

Y/N grinned, giving him a cheeky wave before slipping out of the bathroom, feeling lighthearted. She left Spencer to finish his shower with amusement and affection for the woman who had quickly become such an important part of his life.

—

Spencer and Y/N spent the day exploring all of Spencer’s favorite spots. They strolled through parks, visited local bookstores, and even stopped by a quaint café Spencer adored. Y/N found herself overflowing with adoration for the man who seemed to find joy and wonder in the simplest of things. She admired the way he spoke passionately about his interests, the light in his eyes when he shared a new fact, and the genuine kindness he showed to everyone they encountered.

Spencer, on the other hand, felt his heart swell with every smile Y/N gave him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he might be falling in love with her, something that both excited and terrified him. Her laughter, her curiosity, and the way she made him feel like he was the only person in the world were intoxicating.

As the day turned to evening, they ended up back at Spencer’s apartment per his request that they dress nicely for dinner reservations he had made at a fancy restaurant. The thought of a romantic evening filled him with anticipation and a hint of nervousness.

Spencer left Y/N to use the bathroom, only needing to change clothes and tousle his hair a bit. He opted for a crisp, tailored suit that brought out the color of his eyes, feeling it was a special enough occasion to warrant the extra effort.

Y/N, meanwhile, took her time selecting the best dress she had packed, one that hugged her curves just right and made her feel confident. She applied slightly more makeup than usual, enhancing her features and adding a touch of elegance to her appearance. She wanted to impress, knowing that this was a night she wanted to remember.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Spencer was sitting in his living room, engrossed in a book. He looked up as she entered, and his eyes widened in appreciation.

“Ready to go?” Y/N asked, trying to sound casual despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach.

Spencer glanced over his shoulder, the angle making his jaw look extra sharp. His breath caught for a moment as he took in her transformation. “Jesus, I didn’t know you could clean up that well.”

“Shut up, Doctor,” Y/N replied, blushing under his intense gaze.

“I’m serious,” Spencer said, putting his book on the table and standing up. He approached her, his eyes never leaving hers. “You’re breathtaking.”

“And you’re cheesy,” Y/N said, trying to deflect the compliment but unable to hide her smile.

“You love it,” Spencer teased, his voice low and playful.

“The jury’s still out,” Y/N replied, though her voice betrayed her amusement.

“Yeah?” Spencer asked, stepping closer until he was right in front of her, his breath fanning over her face. His proximity sent a thrill through her, and she felt her heart skip a beat.

“Uh-huh,” Y/N managed to say, her voice a whisper as she met his gaze, feeling the tension and anticipation crackling in the air between them.

Spencer reached up and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft and reverent. He looked at her with such warmth and sincerity that she felt herself melt under his gaze.

“Let’s go,” Spencer said softly, offering his arm to her.

Y/N took it, feeling a sense of excitement as they headed out the door, ready to enjoy an evening that promised to be as magical as the day they had shared.

—

After being seated in the gorgeous restaurant, Y/N and Spencer settled into the comfortable ambiance, surrounded by soft candlelight and the murmur of conversations from other patrons. The place was elegant, with high ceilings and ornate decorations that gave it a timeless charm. Spencer had chosen well, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement at the thought of this special evening.

As they perused the menu, the conversation naturally flowed into laughter and stories, each taking turns recounting moments that had shaped their lives since they last saw each other.

“I swear!” Y/N exclaimed, her eyes wide with amusement. “Hand to my heart, Adam thought he could handle watching Lizzie give birth. He took one look at the head crowning and passed out!”

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head. “That sounds like Adam. Always so confident until reality hits.”

Y/N laughed, nodding in agreement. “Lizzie was not impressed. She had to finish giving birth and then tend to him once he came around. He claims he wasn’t out for long, but I swear it was a solid minute before he came to.”

“I can just imagine the look on Lizzie’s face,” Spencer said, grinning. “She must have been livid.”

“Oh, she was,” Y/N confirmed, giggling. “But you know Adam. He made it up to her with his charm and a dozen apologies.”

Spencer leaned back in his chair, enjoying the easy rapport they shared. It felt good to laugh and reminisce, the years between them melting away with every shared story.

“What about you?” Y/N asked, her curiosity piqued. “Any memorable moments you’ve had to deal with recently?”

Spencer paused, considering the past few years. “Well, there was that time we had to deal with a bomb threat at a library. I was in the middle of reshelving a section when they called in the evacuation.”

“A bomb threat?” Y/N said, eyes widening. “That sounds terrifying.”

“It was,” Spencer admitted, though his tone remained light. “But it all worked out in the end. The threat was a hoax, but not before my team teased me about being more concerned for the books than myself.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “You would be more worried about the books.”

“Guilty as charged,” Spencer replied, a playful glint in his eyes.

—

As the evening unfolded, the restaurant's attentive waitstaff served them a series of exquisite dishes, each one more delicious than the last. Spencer and Y/N shared bites of their meals, their mutual enjoyment adding another layer of intimacy to the night.

“Have you ever tried this before?” Spencer asked, offering a forkful of his dish to Y/N.

“No, but it looks amazing,” Y/N said, leaning forward to taste it. “Wow, that’s incredible.”

“I thought you’d like it,” Spencer said, pleased with her reaction.

Y/N returned the favor, offering him a bite from her plate. “You have to try this one. It’s divine.”

Spencer obliged, savoring the flavor. “You have excellent taste,” he complimented, earning a satisfied smile from Y/N.

As they continued to share their meal, Spencer found himself more and more captivated by Y/N. Her laughter, her stories, the way her eyes lit up with enthusiasm—it all made him realize just how much he had missed having her in his life.

—

Toward the end of the meal, as they lingered over dessert, Spencer took a moment to reflect on everything that had led to this point. The twists and turns, the missed connections, and finally, the chance to reconnect.

“Y/N,” Spencer said, his voice carrying a note of sincerity that caught her attention. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Y/N looked at him, her expression softening. “I am too, Spencer. I’ve missed this—us.”

There was a moment of silence, but it was a comfortable one, filled with the understanding and union that words sometimes failed to express. Spencer reached across the table, his fingers lightly grazing Y/N’s hand, feeling the warmth and softness of her skin against his own.

Her heart fluttered at the contact, and she couldn’t help but smile, feeling a sense of happiness and contentment.

“I’ve thought about this so many times,” Y/N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “About us, about what might have been if we’d stayed in touch.”

Spencer nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. “Me too. It’s funny how life works sometimes, bringing people back together when you least expect it.”

Y/N laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. “I guess some things are just meant to be, even if they take a little detour.”

Their eyes met, and Spencer felt a swell of emotion, realizing that this was a moment he wanted to remember forever. It wasn’t just about the past or the what-ifs, but about the present and the possibilities that lay ahead.

“So, what do you think?” Spencer asked, his tone playful yet sincere. “About us trying to make this work?”

Y/N took a deep breath, considering the question. It was a big step, but one she was ready to take.

“I think it’s worth a shot,” she replied, her eyes shining with hope. “I’d like to see where this goes, Spencer. I really would.”

Spencer’s heart soared at her words, the promise of a new beginning filling him with excitement and anticipation.

—

As they finished their dessert and prepared to leave the restaurant, Spencer and Y/N felt a sense of optimism and joy. The night had been perfect, a blend of laughter, shared memories, and heartfelt conversations that brought them closer together than ever before.

“Ready to head back?” Spencer asked, offering his hand to help her up from the table.

“Ready when you are,” Y/N replied, taking his hand and feeling a thrill at the touch.

They walked out of the restaurant into the cool evening air, hand in hand, the stars twinkling above them like a promise of new adventures to come.

As they strolled back to Spencer’s apartment, the city lights casting a warm glow around them, they talked about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing as naturally as it always had.

When they reached the apartment, Spencer held the door open for her, a gentlemanly gesture that made Y/N’s heart flutter.

“Thank you,” she said, stepping inside and feeling the comfort of his presence beside her.

“My pleasure,” Spencer replied, a smile tugging at his lips.

Once inside, Y/N kicked off her heels and sighed contentedly, the evening having been everything she had hoped for and more. Spencer joined her on the couch, and they sat together, savoring the moment.

“Today was amazing,” Y/N said, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I’m glad,” Spencer replied, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her closer. “I wanted it to be special.”

“It was,” Y/N said, her voice filled with gratitude and affection. “Thank you, Spencer.”

They sat there for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the quiet of the apartment a soothing backdrop to their thoughts and feelings. It was a moment of peace and reflection. 

“I don’t want this to end,” Spencer said softly, voicing the thought that had been on his mind all night.

“It doesn’t have to,” Y/N replied, lifting her head to look at him.

Their eyes met, and in that moment, everything felt right. The past, the present, and the future all seemed to converge, leading them to this point where anything was possible.

Spencer leaned in, closing the distance between them, and kissed her gently, the touch a promise of what lay ahead. Y/N kissed him back, feeling the warmth and love that had been building between them, finally finding its place in the world they were creating together.

The kiss deepened as Spencer’s hands cupped Y/N’s face, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks. The tender touch sent shivers down her spine, and she leaned into him, savoring the spark that felt both electric and comforting. Spencer’s fingers slowly tangled in her hair, pulling her even closer as he let himself get lost in the moment.

Y/N’s hands found their way to Spencer’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath his shirt. She marveled at the strength and tenderness in him, the way he seemed to know exactly what she needed. As if sensing her thoughts, Spencer pulled back slightly, gazing into her eyes with intensity and affection.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice a soft murmur that wrapped around her like a warm embrace.

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with affection and desire. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

With a playful glint in his eye, Spencer leaned in again, capturing her lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle this time. It was a kiss filled with passion and urgency, a reflection of the emotions that had been simmering between them for so long.

Spencer’s hands moved to her waist, pulling her onto his lap as he deepened the kiss. Y/N could feel the heat radiating from his growing erection, a fire that matched her own. The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them and the affinity they shared.

“Are you okay with this?” Spencer asked softly, pulling back just enough to search her eyes for any sign of hesitation.

Y/N nodded, her breath hitching as she felt his hands trail up her sides. “More than okay,” she assured him, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Spencer smiled, his eyes darkening with desire. He took her hand and guided it to the buttons of his shirt, silently inviting her to take the next step. Y/N’s fingers worked quickly, undoing each button with anticipation and eagerness.

As she pushed the fabric aside, revealing the toned muscles beneath, she couldn’t help but marvel at the sight before her. Spencer was beautiful, a perfect blend of strength and vulnerability, and she felt a surge of emotion at the thought of being here with him.

Spencer seemed to read her thoughts, and he reached for the zipper of her dress, his touch both gentle and confident. The sound of the zipper filled the room, a quiet yet thrilling reminder of the moment they were sharing.

But as the fabric loosened around her shoulders, Y/N felt a sudden rush of emotions and pulled back slightly, placing her hand gently on Spencer’s chest. “Wait,” she said softly.

Spencer immediately froze, concern flashing across his face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, searching her eyes for any sign of discomfort.

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. “This is a lot,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. The emotions swirling inside her were intense; desire, fear, and longing.

Spencer swore he could feel his heart break, the words echoing painfully in his mind. Y/N had said very similar words to him four years ago before she left, and he couldn’t help but fear that history might repeat itself.

“Okay, let's slow down,” Spencer said gently, his voice calm and reassuring as he moved his hand away from her dress. He wanted to give her space and reassurance, making sure she felt comfortable and safe.

Y/N looked up at him, relief flooding through her as she saw the understanding and care in his eyes. “I just—I’ve wanted you for so long, and I’m a little overwhelmed,” she confessed, her cheeks flushing with vulnerability. “We have time. Can we take baby steps?”

“Of course, babe,” Spencer replied, a soft smile playing on his lips as he cupped her cheek, his thumb gently stroking her skin.

Babe. Babe. Babe. Y/N's mind spun as she replayed the word, feeling a thrill run through her. Spencer called her babe. It was a simple term of endearment, but it carried a weight of affection and intimacy that made her heart skip a beat.

“You called me babe,” she said, her voice filled with surprise and delight.

Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. “I did,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Is that okay?”

Y/N nodded, her heart swelling with emotion. “It’s very okay,” she replied, her smile growing as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“You’re still hard,” Y/N observed, her voice holding amusement and curiosity as she glanced down at the noticeable tension between them.

“I’m violently aware of that fact,” Spencer replied, a hint of exasperation coloring his tone as he tried to maintain some semblance of control.

Y/N smirked, clearly enjoying his predicament. “What do you want to do about that?”

Spencer took a deep breath, his mind racing with possibilities. “First, you’re wonderful,” he said, his voice laced with affection, “but I’m going to need you to get off of me.”

“Why?” Y/N asked, feigning innocence as she shifted slightly, her movements deliberate and teasing.

“Don’t tease me right now, it’s not nice,” Spencer warned, though there was a playful glint in his eyes.

“But I like teasing you,” Y/N countered, her smile widening as she reveled in the effect she had on him.

Spencer arched an eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “You won’t always be in charge, Y/N,” he said, his voice dropping to a lower, more suggestive tone.

“Are you saying I am right now?” she challenged, her tone playful and confident.

“I’m not dignifying that with an answer,” Spencer replied, trying to sound stern but failing as his own amusement crept into his voice.

Y/N laughed softly, clearly enjoying the banter between them. But her playful teasing took a more daring turn as she leaned in closer, her breath ghosting over his skin.

“What if I did this?” Y/N whispered, grinding her hips down on Spencer’s erection, a bold move that sent a jolt of electricity through him.

Spencer’s breath hitched, his mind momentarily blank as a wave of heat washed over him. He couldn’t help but let out a low groan, the sensation both thrilling and maddening.

“Y/N,” he managed to say, his voice a mixture of warning and desire as he fought to keep his composure.

She leaned back slightly, looking down at him with a satisfied smile. “Yes, Spencer?” she asked, her voice sweetly innocent despite her bold actions.

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief at the situation. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he said, his tone both admiring and amused.

“Well, at least you’ll go out with a smile,” Y/N quipped, clearly enjoying the effect she had on him.

Spencer reached up, his hands settling on her hips as he tried to regain some measure of control. “You’re impossible,” he said, though there was no mistaking the affection in his voice.

“And you love it,” Y/N replied, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips, the warmth between them undeniable.

“Unfortunate, but true,” Spencer admitted, feeling both amused and enchanted by her boldness.

“So you want to be in charge?” Y/N asked, her voice taking on a sultry edge as she looked at him with playful eyes.

Spencer narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to figure out where she was going with this. “What are you getting at?” he asked, curiosity piquing his interest.

Y/N met his gaze steadily, her confidence shining through. “You can use me, baby,” she said, her words dripping with seduction and sincerity.

Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. “What??” he said, his brain struggling to process the implications of her offer.

Y/N smiled softly, her fingers gently guiding his hands to her hips. “Take my hips,” she instructed, her voice low and inviting. “And use me to get off.”

The room seemed to fall silent, the weight of her words hanging in the air between them. Spencer's heart raced, excitement and awe washing over him. It was an invitation he hadn't expected but one that spoke volumes about the trust and desire between them.

Spencer hesitated for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions. He looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of uncertainty, but all he saw was warmth and encouragement.

“Are you sure?” Spencer asked, his voice tinged with concern and longing.

Y/N nodded, her expression sincere and reassuring. “I’m sure,” she said, her hands covering his as she leaned in, brushing her lips against his in a gentle, reassuring kiss.

Spencer exhaled slowly, feeling the tension in his body shift from uncertainty to anticipation. His fingers tightened around her hips, the soft fabric of her dress under his touch a reminder of the reality of the moment.

“Okay,” Spencer said, his voice steady as he accepted her invitation, allowing himself to embrace the desire that had been building between them.

With newfound confidence, Spencer shifted slightly, guiding her movements with his hands. The sensation of her warmth and softness against him was intoxicating, a heady rush of pleasure and emotion that made his heart race.

Y/N moved with him, her body responding to his touch in a way that felt natural and right. The air between them was electric, charged with the promise of what they were exploring together.

Spencer’s breath hitched, his heart pounding as he felt the electricity between them deepen with every movement and shared breath. It was a dance of trust and intimacy, one that they had unconsciously choreographed together over time. Each subtle shift of her hips and every soft gasp that escaped her lips was a reminder of the potent chemistry they shared, a chemistry that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

Y/N’s body moved against his with an urgency that mirrored his own, her touch igniting a fire that spread through him like a blaze. Spencer realized just how much he had missed this—missed her. The way she seemed to know exactly how to touch him, how to bring him to the edge of reason, was something he had never found even in himself. It was as if she had a map to every sensitive spot, every place that could make him unravel.

The air between them was thick with tension, every whisper and caress speaking volumes of the unspoken desires that had lingered between them. Spencer’s hands traveled along Y/N’s body, his fingers tracing the curves of her hips and pulling her closer, feeling the heat radiating off her skin.

Their breathing became ragged, the room filled with the sounds of their shared experience—the low hum of desire, the soft moans of pleasure, the occasional whispered word that sent shivers down each other’s spines. The intensity of the moment built like a crescendo, each wave of sensation more overwhelming than the last.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Spencer groaned, his voice hoarse with a mixture of pleasure and disbelief. He bucked his hips up instinctively, the friction almost too much to bear as he felt her move against him, her warmth enveloping him.

He tightened his grip on her hips, guiding her movements, feeling the tension coil tightly within him. His breath caught in his throat as he neared the brink, his mind a haze of sensation and longing.

Y/N responded to his every movement, her body attuned to his in a way that felt almost instinctual. She leaned forward, her breath ghosting over his ear as she whispered something that made his skin tingle, her words a promise and a challenge all at once.

“Show me how much you’ve missed me.”

In that moment, Spencer surrendered to the intensity, pulling her down to meet him as he let go, the release hitting him with an unexpected force that left him breathless. His body trembled with the aftermath, the world narrowing down to the exquisite sensation and the woman in his arms.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, Spencer lay there panting, his heart racing, feeling both vulnerable and exhilarated. Y/N remained close, her fingers tracing soothing patterns on his skin as she pressed gentle kisses to his face, grounding him in the moment.

Spencer sat there for a moment, panting heavily, his eyes closed as he tried to regain his composure. Embarrassment and satisfaction coursed through him with each breath.

“You okay?” she whispered, her voice tender and soothing as she pulled back slightly to look into his eyes.

Spencer opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with a look of gratitude and affection. “Yeah,” he breathed, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’m okay.”

She chuckled softly, her eyes filled with warmth and understanding. “Good,” she replied, continuing to stroke his hair with gentle, soothing motions.

The room was quiet now, the echoes of their shared moment fading into the background as they simply enjoyed being together.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer said suddenly, a touch of sheepishness coloring his tone. “I didn’t mean to, you know...”

“Don’t be,” Y/N interrupted, her smile reassuring. “I wanted this. I wanted to be here with you.”

Her words eased the lingering tension in Spencer’s chest, and he nodded, feeling a deep sense of relief.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her in a gentle embrace.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside their little cocoon feeling distant and irrelevant. Spencer felt a profound sense of contentment, knowing that whatever came next, they would face it together, hand in hand, heart to heart.

Y/N sighed contentedly, resting her head on his shoulder. “I really don't want to ruin this sweet moment,” she murmured, her voice filled with both affection and mischief.

“Oh God,” Spencer groaned, a teasing glint in his eyes as he prepared for whatever quip was about to come his way.

“You don't even know what I'm going to say,” Y/N protested, feigning indignation.

“It’s almost never good,” Spencer replied with a smirk, clearly enjoying the playful banter between them.

“Ignoring that,” Y/N brushed him off with a wave of her hand. “Anyway, we should change.”

“Oh… yeah, hah,” Spencer agreed, suddenly remembering the very real situation they were in.

“Like now, preferably,” she continued, trying to sound serious but unable to keep the laughter from her voice. “There’s jizz in my underwear. How much did you come?”

Spencer let out a groan of embarrassment, covering his face with his hands. “I hate you more than anyone I’ve ever known,” he muttered, though his tone was light and playful.

Y/N laughed, the sound bubbling up and filling the room with a sense of joy and comfort. She pulled back slightly, giving him a teasing look. “It’s not my fault you’re an overachiever, Doctor Reid,” she teased, playfully poking his side.

Spencer chuckled, dropping his hands and meeting her gaze with a fond smile. “I’m just thorough,” he replied, playing along with her teasing.

“Clearly,” Y/N said with a grin, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips before reluctantly getting up from the couch.

They both stood up, sharing a glance that was a mixture of amusement and affection.

“Let’s get changed before we traumatize your couch any further,” Y/N suggested, shaking her head with a mock-serious expression.

“Good plan,” Spencer agreed, reaching for her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

They headed toward the bedroom, the sense of closeness and companionship between them stronger than ever.

—

The next morning, it was Spencer who woke up alone this time. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. He blinked awake, momentarily disoriented before remembering the events of the night before. A smile tugged at his lips as he replayed the images of Y/N writhing in his lap, her warmth and presence still lingering in his senses.

He heard the shower running, a soft melody of water against tiles, and felt a thrill of excitement rather than the usual pang of morning urgency. Unlike at the wedding, this time he was delighted to know Y/N was showering in his apartment, sharing his space, and he didn’t even feel irrationally sex-hungry. Perhaps it was due to the satisfying first orgasm he had technically experienced with the help of another human being—the woman who had completely entranced him.

As he lay there, reliving the vivid memories of their shared moments, the sound of the shower stopped, and he imagined Y/N stepping out, droplets of water clinging to her skin, a vision of beauty and mischief.

And Y/N did have a twinkle of mischief in her eyes as she turned toward the bedroom, a plan already cooking in her head that Spencer should have smelled from a mile away. Her playful nature was something he had grown to love, even when it caught him off guard.

“Hey, Spence?” she called out, her voice echoing slightly from the bathroom.

“Yeah, babe?” Spencer replied casually, the endearment rolling off his tongue naturally. Babe—he liked the way it felt, like a secret only they shared.

“I forgot my towel,” she announced, the words heavy with intention and familiarity. A wicked sense of déjà vu washed over Spencer, recalling a similar situation back at the wedding. 

"That's okay, there's extra in—" Spencer's words were choked off into an incredulous cough as the bathroom door swung wide open.

Standing before him was an extremely nude Y/N, every inch of her skin glistening with droplets of water, her hair damp and cascading around her shoulders. She stood confidently in all her glory, a vision of boldness and allure that made Spencer's heart skip a beat.

His eyes widened, and for a moment, he was rendered speechless, his brain struggling to process the breathtaking sight before him. A flush crept up his neck as he took in the scene, his pulse quickening at the sheer audacity and beauty of the woman he had fallen for.

Y/N flashed him a cheeky grin, thoroughly enjoying the effect she had on him. “You were saying?” she teased, her voice light and playful as she sauntered toward him.

Spencer swallowed hard, finally finding his voice amidst the delightful chaos she had unleashed within him. “I, uh—” he stammered, trying and failing to keep his eyes from wandering.

“Cat got your tongue, Doctor Reid?” Y/N teased, stopping just short of the bed, her gaze playful and inviting.

Spencer cleared his throat, his mind racing as he tried to regain some semblance of composure. “It’s like you’re testing the strength of my heart,” he managed to say, his voice a strain of amusement and awe.

“I suppose I am,” Y/N replied, pretending to ponder the situation as she placed a hand on her hip, striking a pose that was both teasing and tantalizing.

Spencer’s eyes sparkled with humor and appreciation. He reached out, grabbing the corner of the sheet to offer it to her, but Y/N shook her head, stepping closer instead.

“I think I’m fine without it,” she said, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper as she leaned over him, her lips brushing against his ear. “Unless you mind, of course.”

Spencer chuckled, a blend of amusement and admiration coloring his voice. “Not at all,” he murmured, reaching out to grab Y/N by the hips, his fingers eager to pull her close again.

But before he could, Y/N stepped back quickly, a playful glint in her eye. “Doctor, I need a towel, not your hands! I just got clean.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow, both surprised and entertained by her unexpected retreat. “Y/N, you just walked out naked. You’re standing in front of me naked.”

“And I expect you, as a gracious host, to help me cover my modesty and find a towel,” she replied, her tone mockingly prim as she crossed her arms, making no move to cover herself any further.

“You’re really going to cover up?” Spencer asked, skepticism laced with humor as he watched her. The entire scene felt like a cat-and-mouse game, one he was more than willing to play.

“Duh,” Y/N said, her lips curving into a teasing smile that told him she was enjoying every second of his reaction.

Spencer shook his head, his eyes narrowing playfully. “You walked out here, completely nude, just to tease me?”

“An astute observation, Doctor,” Y/N replied, nodding in mock approval. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, delighting in the effect she had on him.

Spencer couldn't help but laugh, the sound deep and genuine. Her antics were just as endearing as they were infuriating, and he found himself utterly captivated by the playful energy she brought into his life.

“You’re something else, you know that?” Spencer said, rising from the bed and grabbing a towel from a nearby chair. He tossed it over to her, shaking his head in disbelief at her cheekiness.

Y/N caught the towel, draping it loosely around her shoulders with a victorious grin. “I aim to keep you on your toes, Spence.”

“Well, you’ve succeeded,” Spencer replied, his eyes filled with warmth and a hint of challenge. “But don’t think I’ll forget this. I’ll get you back when you least expect it.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Y/N said, her voice holding anticipation and defiance as she turned to head back toward the bathroom, the towel trailing behind her like a cape.

Spencer watched her go, a smile playing on his lips. He loved this side of her—the confident, teasing side that could drive him to the brink of madness with a single look.

As she disappeared around the corner, Spencer settled back onto the bed, his mind already racing with thoughts of how he might turn the tables next time. He knew that with Y/N, every moment was an adventure, one that promised both laughter and love in equal measure.

—

Breakfast was eaten between syrupy kisses and crossword puzzles, everything Spencer had ever wanted. The kitchen was filled with the warm aroma of pancakes and freshly brewed coffee, a cozy backdrop for their intimate morning routine.

Y/N sat across from Spencer at the small kitchen table, her hair still slightly damp from her shower, a playful smile on her lips as she scribbled answers into the crossword puzzle book they shared. Every now and then, she would lean over to plant a sweet, sticky kiss on Spencer’s cheek, leaving behind a faint trace of maple syrup that made him smile.

“This one’s tricky,” Y/N murmured, tapping the pencil against her chin as she pondered a clue. “Six-letter word for ‘mysterious’?”

Spencer glanced over, his eyes sparkling with affection. “Enigma,” he suggested, his voice soft and soothing. “Though I’m sure you already knew that.”

Y/N chuckled, scribbling the word into the grid. “You make it sound so easy, Doctor Reid.”

Spencer shrugged, a modest grin playing on his lips. “Crossword puzzles are my specialty. Along with word jumbles, logic puzzles, and, apparently, pancakes.”

“Mm, and you excel at all of them,” Y/N teased, reaching for another kiss, the gesture sweet and unhurried.

The morning light streamed through the window, casting a golden hue over the room and making the moment feel even more special. It was one of those rare, perfect mornings where everything seemed to align—a moment of peace and contentment that Spencer cherished deeply.

As they continued to work through the crossword together, their laughter echoed softly, mingling with the clink of cutlery and the rustle of crossword pages. Spencer marveled at how effortlessly they fit together, how natural it felt to share these simple pleasures with someone who understood him so completely.

With each kiss and every playful word exchanged, Spencer felt the bond between them grow stronger, solidifying the foundation of their relationship. It was in these quiet, everyday moments that he realized just how much Y/N meant to him, how much he wanted this—wanted her in his life, now and always.

“Ready for another clue?” Y/N asked, pulling him back to the present with a gentle nudge.

“Always,” Spencer replied, his eyes meeting hers with adoration and excitement. “What’ve you got?”

“Five-letter word for ‘home,’” she said, her gaze softening as she looked at him, her meaning clear.

Spencer paused, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. He knew the answer immediately, a word that perfectly encapsulated everything they were building together. “Vegas,” he answered, the word carrying a weight of love and nostalgia.

Y/N nodded, a smile spreading across her face as she wrote it down, her heart full. “I like that answer. But you’re wrong.”

They exchanged another kiss, this one lingering and full of promise, the crossword forgotten for the moment as they lost themselves in each other.

—

Spencer Reid was a lot of things: a genius, an awkward yet endearing conversationalist, a talented magician, a loyal friend, and a speed reader. But one thing he was not was sexually experienced. Despite this, he wasn't going to let that minor detail stop him from getting payback on Y/N during her stay. The morning she teased him had been a wake-up call of sorts, and he found himself eagerly anticipating a way to surprise her in return.

They hadn’t gone past kissing and last night when Spencer had come in his pants. He was perfectly fine waiting; they didn’t ever have to go further. He just loved being with her. He loved her. But that was beside the point right now. The point was payback.

When Y/N mentioned wanting to visit a thrift shop she had read about online, Spencer seized the opportunity to do some research of his own. He found himself diving into a realm he had yet to explore: the art of sensual teasing.

Specifically, Spencer found himself gravitating towards articles and forums on how to tame your brat—a playful concept he found oddly fitting given Y/N's penchant for teasing him. He learned about the subtle balance of power and playfulness and how to channel his own awkward charm into something more confident and commanding.

With the new information burned into his eidetic memory, Spencer was rather excited for Y/N's return. The anticipation thrummed through him, nervousness and excitement in his veins as he rehearsed his plan in his mind. He wanted to surprise her, to take back some of the playful control she had over him, and show her a side of himself that was both new and thrilling.

When Y/N walked through the door, she noticed Spencer wasn't in immediate view. "Spence?" she called out, her voice laced with curiosity.

"In here," he yelled back, a little breathlessly.

Y/N followed the sound of his voice into the bedroom, and what she saw made her stop in her tracks. Spencer was lying on the bed, shirtless and clad only in his briefs, his hand teasingly palming his cock, clearly getting himself worked up.

"Wh—what are you doing?" she stammered, her eyes widening at the unexpected sight before her.

"Sit down," Spencer instructed, nodding toward the chair in the corner of the room.

Y/N felt a rush of excitement mixed with nervousness as she followed his instructions, taking a seat with wide eyes, unable to look away from the scene unfolding before her.

"...Spence?" she ventured cautiously, unsure of what to expect.

"You have done nothing but tease and taunt me," Spencer began, his voice low and steady, laced with an edge of playful bravery. "I told you I'd get you back."

Her mind raced, anticipation and trepidation swirling within her. “I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to upset you,” she offered, trying to gauge his intentions.

“Oh, I’m not upset,” Spencer chuckled darkly, his eyes filled with a promise of what was to come. “You might be after this.”

Y/N felt a delicious tingle run down her spine at his words, realizing that the tables had turned in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

Spencer pushed his briefs down, feeling the cool air against his skin as he continued to touch himself. His movements were slow and deliberate, his hand gliding over his length, each stroke building tension within him. He maintained eye contact with Y/N, his eyes dark with desire and intent.

“Watch me,” he commanded softly, his voice a blend of seduction and challenge. The words were an invitation and a demand, meant to draw her in and show her the effect she had on him. He wanted her to witness every moment, every sensation, the pleasure he derived from taking control.

Y/N swallowed hard, her mouth dry with anticipation. She sat on the chair, completely captivated by the sight before her. Spencer, usually so reserved and thoughtful, was now fully in command, his confidence tangible and alluring. She couldn’t tear her eyes away, drawn to the way he moved, the way he seemed to revel in the moment.

As Spencer’s hand moved with increasing intensity, his breathing grew heavier. Each stroke was a testament to the electric tension between them, the room filled with the soft sounds of his pleasure. He was keenly aware of the effect he was having on her, the way her eyes followed his every move, and it fueled him, driving him closer to the edge.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Spencer asked, a teasing glint in his eye as he observed her reaction. His voice was low and husky, laced with both challenge and triumph.

Y/N nodded, unable to find her voice as she watched him. Her heart raced, a blend of arousal and admiration coursing through her. She was seeing a side of Spencer that was both familiar and entirely new—a side that was thrilling in its unexpected intensity.

Spencer’s pace quickened, his hand moving faster, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He let out a soft moan, the sound sending a shiver of excitement through Y/N. She shifted slightly in her seat, feeling the heat of her own desire, knowing that this moment was for her as much as it was for him.

With a final, shuddering gasp, Spencer reached his climax. His body trembled as he gave in to the release, the waves of pleasure washing over him with unexpected force. His release reached up his chest, getting mixed in the trail of hair leading down from his navel.

He lay there for a moment, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath, the room filled with a charged silence that seemed to echo the intensity of the experience they had just shared.

Y/N watched him with wide eyes, her heart pounding, feeling the heat of the moment settle between them. She couldn’t help but be impressed by his unexpected confidence and the way he had managed to turn the tables so effectively.

Spencer finally sat up, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he met her gaze. “How was that for payback?” he asked, a playful lilt to his voice, his eyes twinkling with mischief and affection.

Y/N let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, a smile breaking across her face. “I’d say you win,” she replied, her voice tinged with amusement and admiration.

Spencer chuckled, feeling a swell of pride at her words. He had surprised himself with his ability to take control and turn the tables, and her reaction was everything he had hoped for.

"I'm glad you think so," Spencer said, his tone playful yet filled with genuine affection. He leaned back against the headboard, his eyes still fixed on Y/N, who remained seated in the chair, a slight flush coloring her cheeks.

“You really got me,” she admitted, shaking her head in disbelief at the unexpected turn of events. “I didn’t think you had it in you, Doctor Reid.”

Spencer grinned, relishing the moment. “I told you I’d get you back for this morning,” he said, referencing her earlier teasing with a knowing glance. “Consider us even.”

Y/N stood up from the chair and made her way over to the bed, sitting beside him. She reached out and traced a finger along his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her touch. “I have to admit, it’s kind of hot seeing you like this,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Spencer’s heart raced at her words. He reached up and gently cupped her face, drawing her closer until their foreheads touched. “I’m glad,” he murmured, his voice soft and sincere.

They stayed like that for a moment, savoring the intimacy and the sense of closeness that had blossomed between them. It was a nod to their journey, a reminder of how far they had come and the exciting possibilities that lay ahead.

Finally, Y/N broke the silence, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, what’s next on your agenda, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer laughed, feeling a surge of happiness at her playful question. “Well, I think we’ve earned a little break,” he suggested, his tone light-hearted. “Maybe some dessert?”

“How about a shower?” Y/N countered, raising an eyebrow with a teasing smile.

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” Spencer agreed, glancing down at himself. “I’m sorry I made such a mess.”

“Are you kidding?” Y/N replied, leaning in to punctuate her words with kisses. “Dr. Reid, it was—” kiss “so—” kiss “fucking—” kiss “sexy.”

Spencer laughed, his heart swelling with affection and desire. He pulled her closer, kissing her swiftly, his lips capturing hers with a sense of urgency. “Okay, okay. I’ll go shower,” he said, trying to play it cool but failing to hide his growing excitement.

“Not without me,” Y/N whispered, her voice a sultry promise that sent a shiver down Spencer’s spine.

Her words lingered in the air, charged with anticipation. Spencer hesitated for a moment, the idea of showering together both thrilling and nerve-wracking. But the look in Y/N's eyes—filled with warmth and an unmistakable invitation—washed away any doubts he had.

“Alright,” Spencer said, a hint of mischief in his voice as he stood up, pulling her with him. “Lead the way.”

Y/N giggled, taking his hand and guiding him toward the bathroom. The space was small but intimate, creating a soft haze that enveloped them both.

As Y/N began to strip off her clothes, Spencer moved to help her, his fingers gently brushing against her skin as her clothes fell from her body. Throughout the entire process, he maintained eye contact with her, his gaze steady and filled with an electrifying combination of tenderness and desire.

The intensity of their bond was unmistakable, as if the world around them had faded away, leaving only the two of them in their own private bubble. Spencer marveled at the trust Y/N placed in him, feeling a deep sense of gratitude and admiration for the woman standing before him.

Once she was undressed, Spencer took her hand, leading her to the shower. As they stepped inside, Y/N turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until it was just right. The warm spray cascaded down, creating a comforting cocoon around them.

Spencer watched her, his heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. He had never done anything like this before—this level of intimacy was new territory—but the thought of being so close to her, of sharing this experience, was exhilarating.

It was a moment of discovery, a chance to explore the depths of their relationship in a way that went beyond words. The water enveloped them, washing away any lingering doubts or fears, leaving only the promise of what they could build together.

The water cascaded down in a soothing rhythm, and Y/N turned to him, her eyes sparkling with a playful challenge. “Can I wash you, Doctor?”

Spencer nodded, feeling a rush of adrenaline as he stepped under the warm spray with her. The water was a comforting embrace that seemed to wash away any lingering tension or apprehension.

Y/N reached for the soap, lathering it between her hands before gently running them over Spencer’s chest, her touch tender and intimate. Spencer shivered, the sensation of her hands on his skin sending waves of pleasure through him.

He mirrored her actions, his fingers gliding over her shoulders and down her back, marveling at the softness of her skin and the closeness they shared. It was a new kind of intimacy, one that felt both thrilling and natural, as if they were meant to be this way.

The steam swirled around them, creating a cocoon of warmth and privacy, the outside world fading into the background. In this moment, it was just them—two people exploring a newfound closeness.

Y/N tilted her head back, letting the water cascade over her face, her laughter echoing softly in the confined space. Spencer watched her, entranced by the way she seemed to glow with happiness, her joy infectious and intoxicating.

“You okay?” Y/N asked, glancing at him with a teasing smile, her eyes glimmering with affection.

Spencer shook his head, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings. “No, I need to do something,” he said, his voice producing urgency and sincerity.

“Oh, what is it, baby?” she asked, her curiosity piqued as she tried to read his intentions.

“Tell me to stop if you need to,” Spencer replied, his tone firm yet reassuring.

Y/N nodded, anticipation building as she trusted him completely, not knowing exactly what to expect but excited by the promise of his words.

Spencer gently turned her so she was facing the wall, guiding her movements with a steady hand until she was in the position he envisioned. Her heart raced as she felt his hands on her skin, the water cascading over them adding a layer of sensuality to the moment.

“Spence?” Y/N’s voice was soft, a mixture of curiosity and desire as she braced herself with her hands against the cool tile.

“Is this okay?” he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice as he knelt down behind her, his breath warm against her skin.

“Mhm,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper, the sensation of his presence behind her sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

With Y/N's consent, Spencer took a deep breath, grounding himself in the moment. He placed his hands gently on her hips, his touch reverent and full of care. The water continued to pour over them, the rhythmic sound creating a backdrop for the moment they were about to share.

Spencer let his hands glide over her skin, taking his time to explore and savor the feeling. He marveled at the way she trusted him, how she let herself be vulnerable in a way that mirrored his own vulnerability. It was a dance of intimacy and exploration, one that was both thrilling and deeply meaningful.

Y/N let out a soft sigh, her body responding to his touch with an eagerness that surprised even her. She felt the heat of the water mix with the warmth of his hands, the combination creating a heady sensation that left her breathless.

Spencer leaned forward, placing a tender kiss on the small of her back, his lips tracing a path of gentle affection. He wanted her to feel cherished, to know that every action was infused with love and desire. His hands continued to wander, exploring the curves of her body, his touch becoming more assured with each passing moment.

The tension between them built, a substantial energy that crackled in the air. Spencer let his fingers dance along her thighs, the touch light and teasing, coaxing soft gasps from her lips. His fingers found her clit, brushing against it with a feather-light touch that made her shiver with anticipation.

"Is this good?" Spencer asked, his voice a husky whisper, full of hope and longing.

Y/N nodded, her eyes closed as she let herself be carried away by the sensations he was creating. "It’s perfect," she breathed.

Encouraged by her response, Spencer continued his tender ministrations, his fingers rubbing over her clit with increasing confidence. He relished the way her body reacted to his touch, each soft moan and gasp fueling his desire to please her. Every tremor, every whisper of his name, was a reminder that she was here, Spencer was the one causing her pleasure.

Spencer couldn’t wait any longer; he needed to have his mouth on her. His desire had reached a fever pitch, and the thought of tasting her, of bringing her even closer to the edge, was irresistible.

With a firm but gentle hand on Y/N’s lower back, he urged her to arch further, creating a perfect angle for him to reach her core with his mouth. Her skin was warm under his touch, the water heightening the sensations that danced between them.

Spencer leaned forward, his breath ghosting over her skin before he pressed his lips to her clit. He started with a soft kiss, savoring the anticipation before letting his tongue trace a slow, deliberate path up her lips. The taste of her was intoxicating, a blend of sweetness and desire that left him wanting more.

Y/N’s response was immediate and electric, her body reacting to the touch with an intensity that matched his own longing. Her fingers curled against the tile wall, seeking purchase as she let out a breathy moan, a sound that resonated deep within Spencer.

He continued to explore with his tongue, alternating between gentle licks and firmer, more purposeful strokes that elicited a symphony of pleasure from her. Her hips instinctively pushed back towards him, her body urging him to continue, to take her higher.

Spencer was more than happy to oblige, his focus unwavering as he lavished attention on her clit, every movement calculated to bring her closer to that exquisite edge. The steam swirled around them, creating an intimate cocoon where nothing existed but the two of them and the ties they were deepening with every touch, every kiss.

Y/N’s breathing grew ragged, her soft cries filling the bathroom as Spencer’s ministrations drove her closer to climax. She felt the world narrowing to this singular moment, the sensation of his mouth on her, consuming her completely. 

Spencer, attuned to every shift in her body, could feel her approaching release. He intensified his efforts, his mouth working to push her over the edge.

With a final, fervent stroke of his tongue, Y/N shattered, the wave of her orgasm crashing over her with a force that left her breathless and trembling. Spencer held her steady as she came on his tongue, his hands firm on her hips as he helped her ride out the storm.

As the echoes of her climax faded, they remained entwined under the shower’s warm spray, the link between them even stronger than before. Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to her hip, a silent promise of his devotion and the joy they found in each other.

Finally, he helped her stand upright, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace. They stayed like that for a while, basking in the afterglow in the steamy sanctuary of the shower. The warmth of the water mingled with the warmth of their bodies, creating a cocoon of intimacy that felt both timeless and precious.

Y/N turned in his arms, looking up at him with a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “You have something on your face, Doctor,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with humor and affection.

Spencer raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Do I?” he replied, feigning ignorance as he wiped his face with the back of his hand.

“Yes, you do,” Y/N insisted, reaching up to gently swipe at a lingering droplet of water on his cheek. Her touch was light, yet it sent a thrill through Spencer, a reminder of the electric chemistry between them.

He captured her hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to her fingertips. “Well, thank you for pointing that out,” he said, his voice a low murmur as he looked into her eyes, filled with a warmth that spoke volumes of the bond they shared.

Y/N chuckled softly, leaning into him as she savored the comfort and closeness of their embrace. “You’re welcome,” she said, her voice carrying a note of affection that made his heart swell.

“I love you,” Spencer whispered, the words slipping out naturally, carrying the weight of everything he felt for her. He had never been more certain of anything in his life, and saying it aloud felt both exhilarating and profoundly right.

“I know,” Y/N replied, her smile warm and knowing. She could feel the truth of his words in the way he held her, in the gentle strength of his embrace. Her acknowledgment without fear was enough for Spencer right now—a silent promise of the love they were building together, day by day.

Spencer held her close, relishing the feeling of having her in his arms. They stood together in the shower, the world outside forgotten, their laughter and the sound of the water the only things that mattered in that moment. It was a perfect bubble of intimacy, a sanctuary where they could be completely themselves.

Eventually, they turned off the water and stepped out, wrapping themselves in towels as they continued to exchange soft words and lingering glances, the connection between them as strong as ever. They moved in a seamless dance of familiarity and affection.

Y/N handed Spencer a towel, her eyes meeting his with a playfulness that belied the deep emotions they had just shared. The air between them was filled with a sense of contentment, as if they had discovered a new layer of their relationship that was both thrilling and comforting.

Spencer took the towel with a grateful smile, gently drying himself off as he watched Y/N do the same. Her movements were graceful and unhurried, and he found himself captivated by the simple beauty of the moment.

—

That night, they lay side by side in bed, Spencer reading aloud to Y/N as requested. His voice, a soothing blend of warmth and familiarity, wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light over the room, highlighting the serene expressions on their faces.

Spencer was lost in the rhythm of the words, his voice weaving a gentle narrative that lulled Y/N into a state of relaxation. The comfort of the moment, the intimacy of sharing a book, felt perfect.

“Baby?” Y/N interrupted softly, her voice a quiet murmur in the peaceful silence.

“Hmm?” Spencer replied, not breaking his reading stride but glancing over at her with a soft smile.

“Can I meet your friends?” she asked, her tone light yet carrying an undercurrent of genuine curiosity.

Spencer paused in his reading, a playful glint in his eyes. “That’s a tough one,” he said, closing the book and setting it aside, focusing all his attention on her.

“Huh? Why?” Y/N asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she turned to face him.

“Well, how would I introduce you? ‘Hi, this is Y/N. I saw her boobs, but we’re just buddies,’” Spencer teased, his lips curling into a smirk.

Y/N smiled knowingly, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Get to the point, Ock,” she urged, giving him a gentle nudge with her elbow.

Spencer took a deep breath, feeling the truth of his feelings welling up inside him. The words that had been on the tip of his tongue for so long finally found their way out. “Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked, his voice sincere and full of hope.

Y/N pretended to ponder his question, her smile widening. “Depends,” she said, drawing out the word playfully, her eyes sparkling with affection.

He wasn’t even nervous this time. “Oh yeah? On what?” he inquired, a playful challenge in his tone as he propped himself up on one elbow to look at her more closely.

“Will you scratch my back before bed?” Y/N replied, her expression shifting to one of playful earnestness as she held his gaze.

Spencer laughed, a sound filled with warmth and happiness. “I think that can be arranged,” he said, reaching over to gently run his fingers down her back, the touch light and affectionate.

Y/N leaned into his touch, feeling the comfort that defined their relationship. “Then yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend,” she said, her voice full of sincerity and excitement.

Spencer’s heart swelled at her words, at the simple exchange. They lay there for a while, enjoying the quiet comfort of the moment, the room filled with a sense of contentment and love that made everything else fade away.

As they settled in for the night, Spencer’s hand continued its soothing path along her back, a gentle promise of the future. Y/N closed her eyes, feeling a profound sense of peace as she drifted off to sleep, knowing that she was exactly where she was meant to be—with him.

—

Spencer knew how much Y/N loved wine, and he wanted to recreate a little bit of their Napa Valley trip to make their introduction to his team memorable. After some thought, he decided to ask Rossi, his friend and colleague, if he would host a wine tasting at his elegant estate.

Rossi, always the gracious host and a fellow wine enthusiast, immediately agreed, delighted at the prospect of meeting Y/N. He had been eager to meet the woman who had captured Spencer’s heart, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity.

The evening was set. Rossi promised to prepare a selection of his finest wines and a spread of delicious hors d'oeuvres to complement the tasting. The stage was perfectly set for Y/N to meet Spencer’s friends in a relaxed and welcoming atmosphere.

As they arrived at Rossi’s grand estate, Spencer and Y/N held hands, a subtle but unmistakable sign of their relationship. The sun was setting, casting a golden hue over the vineyard, and the air was filled with the promise of a perfect evening.

Rossi greeted them at the door with his usual charm, extending a warm welcome. “Spencer! Y/N! So glad you could make it,” he said, giving Spencer a shoulder pat before turning to Y/N. “And you must be the famous Y/N. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Y/N smiled, feeling instantly at ease with Rossi’s friendly demeanor. “All good things, I hope,” she replied with a laugh, squeezing Spencer’s hand for reassurance.

“Of course, all good things,” Rossi assured her, gesturing for them to come inside. “Make yourselves at home. We’ve got a lovely selection for you tonight.”

As they entered the elegantly decorated living room, Y/N marveled at the surroundings. The room was warm and inviting, with soft lighting and a roaring fireplace, creating a cozy ambiance. Several bottles of wine were artfully arranged on a table, each accompanied by a description card and a plate of carefully paired appetizers.

The rest of the team was already there, mingling and chatting, their laughter filling the room. Spencer introduced Y/N to each of them, his pride evident in the way he spoke about her.

“Y/N, you remember Derek Morgan,” Spencer said, introducing her to the man who had become one of his closest friends.

Derek grinned, offering a firm handshake. “Nice to officially meet you, Y/N. Spencer talks about you all the time.”

Y/N returned the handshake, her nerves dissipating with each friendly face she encountered. “Nice to see you again, Derek,” she replied warmly. “Spencer probably talks about you more.”

“And this is Penelope Garcia,” Spencer continued, leading Y/N to the vibrant and colorful tech analyst.

Penelope enveloped Y/N in a warm hug, her enthusiasm infectious. “I’m so happy to meet you! Anyone who makes Spencer this happy is a friend of mine,” she declared with a wink.

Y/N laughed, charmed by Penelope’s vivacious personality. “It’s great to meet you too, Penelope. I love your energy!”

Spencer then introduced her to Emily Prentiss, JJ, and Aaron Hotchner, each of them welcoming her with genuine smiles and friendly conversation. It was clear that Spencer’s colleagues were more than just coworkers—they were like family, and they were eager to include Y/N in their circle.

Once everyone had settled, Rossi took the lead, introducing each wine with the flair of a seasoned connoisseur. He explained the origins of each bottle, the notes and flavors they could expect, and the perfect pairings he had selected.

The group moved through the tasting, savoring each wine and the lively conversation that accompanied it. Y/N found herself laughing and sharing stories, feeling completely at ease in their company.

As they reached the end of the tasting, Spencer caught Y/N’s eye, giving her a soft smile that conveyed his happiness and pride. She smiled back, feeling grateful for the warmth and acceptance she had received from his friends.

Rossi raised his glass, capturing everyone’s attention. “To new friends and old friends,” he began, his voice resonating with sincerity. “And to Y/N, for making our Spencer so incredibly happy. Welcome to the family.”

Everyone echoed the toast, glasses clinking as they celebrated the new addition to their group. Y/N felt a swell of emotion at the genuine welcome, her heart full with the realization that she was not just meeting Spencer’s team, but becoming a part of something bigger—a community that supported each other, much like a family.

As the evening continued, Y/N and Spencer found themselves stealing moments together amidst the laughter and conversation. It was a perfect night.

—

“Can we go for a walk?” Y/N asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she looked at Spencer. The wine had left her feeling a little bold and adventurous, and the thought of a late-night stroll seemed like the perfect way to end the evening.

“It’s nearly 12 a.m., Y/N,” Spencer replied, raising an eyebrow at her suggestion. He tried to sound firm, but he knew that tone of hers all too well—the one that said she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“You’re in the FBI. You can keep us safe,” she insisted, playfully bumping her shoulder against his.

Spencer couldn’t help but chuckle at her persistence. “Yeah, okay,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I once had a man tell me I look like a pipe cleaner with eyes.”

Y/N burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the quiet of the night. “That is so accurate!” she managed to say between giggles, leaning against him for support.

“We’re not going for a walk,” Spencer declared, crossing his arms in mock defiance.

Y/N’s laughter subsided, replaced by a stubborn look that he knew all too well. “Then I’m going alone,” she said, raising her chin in challenge.

“Like hell you are, you nuisance,” Spencer shot back, unable to hide the fondness in his voice. He shook his head, knowing he was already defeated. “Alright, alright. Let’s go for a walk.”

Y/N grinned triumphantly, taking his hand and pulling him toward the door. “You won’t regret it,” she promised, her excitement palpable.

As they stepped out into the cool night air, Spencer couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. Despite his earlier protests, he found himself looking forward to the adventure, the chance to share another moment with her in the quiet, starlit night.

They walked hand in hand, the world around them hushed and serene. The stars twinkled above, a canopy of lights that mirrored the joy and companionship they felt in each other's presence.

Spencer glanced over at Y/N, her face illuminated by the moonlight, and felt a surge of affection for the woman beside him. She had a way of making even the simplest moments feel extraordinary, and he realized he wouldn’t trade this walk—or her company—for anything.

“So, where are we headed?” Spencer asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

Y/N shrugged, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Anywhere. Everywhere. Nowhere in particular,” she replied, swinging their linked hands playfully. “Let’s just see where the night takes us.”

Spencer chuckled, nodding in agreement as they continued their impromptu adventure. “Lead the way, troublemaker.”

They walked for a bit in silence, just enjoying each other's company. The night was cool, the gentle breeze carrying the distant hum of the city, a perfect backdrop for their midnight stroll. The moon cast a silvery glow on the path ahead, and their footsteps echoed softly in the stillness.

“You’re pretty bossy,” he teased, breaking the silence with a playful nudge. “Is this what it’s always going to be like when we’re married?”

The words slipped out before he could catch them, hanging in the air between them with a weight he hadn’t anticipated.

Y/N laughed, not even realizing the massive step she’d just taken with her response. “Yeah, probably,” she said, the words rolling off her tongue as if they were the most natural thing in the world.

Spencer felt his heart skip a beat, the casual ease of her reply settling warmly in his chest. Her laughter was infectious, and he couldn’t help but join in, the sound of their shared amusement echoing softly in the night.

“Good to know,” Spencer replied, trying to keep his tone light, even as the implications of their exchange sank in.

Y/N turned to look at him, her eyes shining with humor and something deeper—something that spoke of the future they were daring to imagine together. The thought of it sent a thrill through him, feelings of excitement and wonder at the possibilities that lay ahead.

They continued their walk, the conversation flowing easily as they navigated the quiet streets. Spencer found himself stealing glances at Y/N, marveling at the way she seemed to light up the world around her, her presence a constant source of comfort and happiness.

After a while, they found themselves on a small bridge overlooking a gently flowing river. The water shimmered under the moonlight, reflecting the stars above, and the scene was so picturesque it felt almost surreal.

Y/N leaned against the railing, her gaze drifting over the water as she took in the beauty of the moment. Spencer joined her, standing behind her with his arms caging her in comfortably.

“Do you ever think about the future?” Y/N asked suddenly, her voice soft and thoughtful.

“All the time,” Spencer admitted, glancing down at her with a smile. “Especially now.”

She looked at him, curiosity and affection mingling in her expression. “And what do you see?”

He considered the question, searching for the right words to convey the depth of his feelings. “I see... a lot of things,” he said finally, his voice sincere. “But mostly, I see us. Together.”

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with happiness at his words. “Me too,” she said, reaching for his hand and intertwining their fingers. “I can’t imagine it any other way.”

They stood there for a while, wrapped in the serenity of the night and the warmth of each other’s presence. It was a moment that felt timeless, a promise of the love and adventure they would share in the days to come.

—

Y/N had been with Spencer for a week and a half now, and their time together was almost done. The thought of her leaving weighed heavily on both of them, a heavy presence that seemed to linger in the air.

Their days had been filled with laughter, exploration, and the simple joy of being together. From shared breakfasts to late-night conversations, every moment was bittersweet evidence of their relationship—a bond that felt as if it had always been there, waiting to be discovered.

But now, as their time drew to a close, a quiet sadness crept in, mingling with the happiness they had shared. They both felt it, an unspoken acknowledgment of the distance that would soon separate them once more.

—

On their last morning together, they sat at the kitchen table, nursing cups of coffee and savoring the tranquility of the moment. The morning light filtered through the window, casting a warm glow over the room, but even the sunshine couldn’t chase away the bittersweet feeling that lingered between them.

Y/N looked across the table at Spencer, her heart aching at the thought of saying goodbye. She had grown accustomed to his presence, to the comfort of having him by her side, and the idea of returning to her life in Las Vegas felt strangely daunting.

“Do we have to talk about it?” Spencer asked, his voice soft yet carrying the weight of their impending separation. He looked at her with longing and resignation, as if hoping that by not acknowledging it, they could somehow postpone the inevitable.

Y/N shook her head, offering him a small, understanding smile. “Not yet,” she replied, reaching across the table to take his hand. “Let’s just enjoy today.”

He squeezed her hand, grateful for the reprieve, even if only temporary. “Deal,” he said, his tone light despite the heaviness in his heart.

—

They spent the day exploring the city, visiting the places they loved most. Spencer took her to the Smithsonian, sharing stories about his favorite exhibits with the enthusiasm and wonder that never failed to captivate her. They wandered through the National Gallery of Art, losing themselves in the beauty of the paintings, and then strolled hand in hand along the Potomac River, the gentle breeze carrying with it the memories they were creating.

As the afternoon sun began to dip below the horizon, they found themselves at a small, charming café, the kind that promised warmth and comfort with every sip. They sat outside, sipping coffee and talking about everything and nothing, allowing the moment to wrap around them like a soft embrace.

Y/N watched Spencer as he spoke, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he loved, the way his smile seemed to hold the entire world in its warmth. She felt a pang of sadness, knowing that she would miss these moments most of all—the quiet intimacy, the shared laughter, the sense of belonging that came from simply being with him.

—

That evening, they decided to cook dinner together, wanting to savor every last moment. The kitchen was filled with the comforting sounds of sizzling pans and clinking glasses, their movements synchronized in a dance of familiarity and affection.

As they prepared their meal, they stole kisses and shared soft laughter, the knowledge of their approaching separation hanging over them like a shadow. Yet, they refused to let it dampen their spirits, determined to make the most of the time they had left.

Once dinner was ready, they sat down at the table, candlelight flickering gently between them. The conversation flowed easily, a tapestry of shared memories and hopes for the future, each word a tribute to the connection they had built.

—

After dinner, they moved to the living room, settling on the couch with a sense of quiet contentment. Y/N nestled against Spencer, her head resting on his shoulder as they talked about the past few days and what lay ahead.

“I can’t believe it’s almost time for you to go,” Spencer said, his voice tinged with regret. He traced gentle patterns on her arm, finding solace in the simple act of holding her close.

“I know,” Y/N replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “I wish I could stay longer.”

Spencer nodded, understanding the pull of responsibility that awaited her in Las Vegas. “Me too,” he admitted, the words carrying a weight of their own. “But I’m grateful for the time we’ve had.”

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with love and longing. “We’ll make it work,” she said, preservation in her voice. “We’ve done it before, and we’ll do it again.”

Spencer smiled, heartened by her resolve. “You’re right,” he agreed, his voice steady with conviction. “We will.”

—

The gentle chime of Y/N's alarm broke the silence of the morning, its sound a stark reminder of the day neither of them wanted to face. Y/N needed to be up early to catch her flight back home, but Spencer refused to let go of her, his arms wrapped tightly around her middle.

Y/N felt the weight of the moment settle heavily in her chest. They were both distraught, the impending separation looming over them like a dark cloud. As she lay there, feeling the warmth of Spencer's embrace, tears began to well in her eyes, spilling over as she realized how deeply her leaving was affecting him.

Spencer, ever attuned to her emotions, noticed the subtle shaking of her body and moved to hover over her, wanting to see her face and offer comfort. His brow furrowed with concern as he brushed away her tears with gentle fingers, his heart aching at the sight of her distress.

Before Spencer could say or ask anything, Y/N found her voice, though it was tinged with the raw emotion she felt. "I love you too," she said, the words escaping in a whisper that carried all the weight of her heart.

In that moment, Spencer's world shifted. The confession was unexpected yet deeply desired, a truth that resonated within him, echoing the love he had been holding for her. Without hesitation, he leaned down and kissed her more passionately than ever before, pouring all his emotions into the tender meeting of their lips.

The kiss was an affirmation, a shared promise of everything they felt for one another. It was filled with longing and relief, the culmination of all the moments they had shared and the dreams they held for the future. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them in their bubble of love.

Y/N wrapped her arms around Spencer, pulling him closer, losing herself in the warmth and security of his embrace. It was as if time stood still, and all that mattered was the beating of their hearts, synced in perfect harmony. The room was filled with a charged silence, the air thick with the unspoken promises that hung between them.

Spencer could feel the rapid thud of his own heart, each beat echoing the depth of his emotions. He wanted nothing more than to hold her close, to savor every second they had left before she had to leave. Their breaths mingled, a shared rhythm that they had built over time.

All of their emotions were on display in that moment, vulnerability and desire intertwining in a dance that felt as old as time itself. Y/N’s fingers traced a gentle path along his back, a silent plea for more, for closeness, for the intimacy they both craved.

She reached down, her hand finding Spencer’s hardening length, the touch both bold and tender. It was a signal, a declaration of what she wanted, what she needed from him in that moment. Spencer’s breath hitched at her touch, his body responding eagerly to the invitation.

With a soft sigh, he nodded in understanding, his eyes dark with passion as he moved to accommodate her silent request. His fingers brushed against her skin, gently pushing down her shorts and underwear, leaving her bare beneath him.

The cool air kissed her exposed skin, but it was Spencer’s touch that ignited the fire within her. Every caress was deliberate, infused with the love and desire that had been simmering between them. His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve with a reverence that left her breathless.

Their lips met in a searing kiss, a collision of longing and devotion that spoke of all the words they couldn’t say. It was a kiss that consumed them, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation. Spencer’s hands tangled in her hair, holding her close as if she might slip away at any moment.

Y/N arched into him when he pushed inside of her, her body an unconscious show of the need that had built up over their time together. She wanted to memorize this moment, to etch it into her memory for the days they would spend apart. The feel of his skin against hers, the warmth of his breath on her lips, the way he looked at her as if she were the only thing that mattered in the world.

Spencer’s touch was gentle yet insistent, a perfect balance of tenderness and need. He marveled at the way her body responded to his, every sigh and gasp a symphony that played just for him. He wanted to show her, through touch and whispered words, just how much she meant to him.

As they moved together, the world outside faded into oblivion, leaving only the two of them, entwined in a moment of pure intimacy. Spencer’s hands traced a path of fire across her skin, every touch a promise, every kiss a vow of the love he felt so deeply.

Their connection was electric, a powerful force that drew them ever closer, bridging the distance that would soon separate them. Spencer could feel the emotion welling up inside him, a tidal wave of feeling that threatened to overwhelm him, yet he welcomed it, embraced it.

Y/N’s hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. She felt the heat of his skin, the strength of his embrace, and knew that this was where she belonged—in his arms, lost in the world they had created together.

With every movement, every shared breath, they told a story—a story of love and longing, of dreams and promises yet to be fulfilled. It was a story that had begun long before this moment, and one that would continue long after they parted ways.

The crescendo of their shared experience built to a peak, an overwhelming wave of sensation that swept them both away. They surrendered to it, allowing themselves to be carried by the tide of their emotions, losing themselves in the depth of their love.

As the world slowly came back into focus, they lay together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the link between them stronger than ever. Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his heart full of the love that had bloomed between them.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words a promise of the future they would build together, no matter the distance that lay ahead.

“I love you too,” Y/N replied, her voice soft yet filled with unwavering certainty.

They stayed like that for a while, basking in the afterglow of their shared intimacy, knowing that this was just the beginning of the journey they would embark on together.

—

The goodbyes at the airport were tearful and depressing beyond belief. Spencer and Y/N stood at the gate, holding each other tightly, as if letting go would shatter the fragile world they had built together. Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears, her heart heavy with the weight of leaving.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

Spencer nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. “Me too. Call me as soon as you can.”

They pulled back just enough to look at each other, memorizing every detail of their faces before the inevitable separation. Spencer brushed a tear from Y/N’s cheek, his touch tender and full of longing.

“Take care of yourself,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll be counting down the days until I see you again.”

Y/N nodded, unable to find words as she fought to keep her composure. With one last lingering kiss, they parted, their fingers reluctantly slipping away from each other as she turned to board her flight.

Spencer watched her go, his heart aching with every step she took away from him. As she disappeared from view, he took a deep breath, holding onto the promise of their future together.

—

Spencer returned home, his heart heavy with the absence of Y/N. As he closed the door behind him, the silence of his apartment enveloped him, a stark contrast to the warmth and laughter that had filled the space just days before.

He dropped his bag by the door, leaning against it for support as the weight of the day settled on his shoulders. For a moment, he stood still, the reality of Y/N’s departure crashing over him like a wave.

He knew they hadn’t broken up—that their relationship was strong, built on a foundation of love and understanding. Yet, the emptiness left by her absence felt overwhelming, as if a part of him was missing.

Spencer made his way to the living room, each step heavy with the ache of longing. He sank into the couch, burying his face in his hands as emotions he had been holding at bay finally broke free. Tears spilled over, silent and unbidden, tracing a path down his cheeks as he allowed himself to feel the depth of his sorrow.

In that moment, he realized just how lucky he was to have someone who made saying goodbye so hard. Y/N had become such an integral part of his daily routine, bringing a light and joy that he hadn’t known he needed until it was gone.

He wiped his tears, taking a deep breath as he tried to steady himself. The pain of parting was proof to the depth of their love, a love that would endure the distance and time apart.

Spencer knew he would see her again, that their paths would cross once more, bound by the ties of affection and the dreams they had yet to fulfill. Until then, he would hold onto the memories they had created, cherishing them as a reminder of everything they shared.

As Spencer got up to take his contacts out, his eyes stinging from the tears that had blurred his vision, he heard a knock at his door. The sound was unexpected, cutting through the quiet of his apartment and jolting him out of his emotional haze.

Confused and uncomfortable with his state, he hesitated. He considered ignoring it in favor of dealing with the immediate discomfort in his eyes. But the knocking persisted, each tap on the door a gentle insistence that demanded his attention.

Sighing, Spencer made his way to the bathroom, quickly removing his contacts and replacing them with his glasses. The relief was immediate, but his curiosity about the late visitor lingered. With his glasses firmly on his nose, he cautiously approached the door, his heart thudding in his chest.

When he finally opened it, the last person he expected to see was standing there, a familiar smile lighting up her face.

“Hey, baby,” Y/N said, her voice soft and full of warmth.

Spencer’s heart skipped a beat, disbelief and joy washing over him in equal measure. For a moment, he simply stood there, taking in the sight of her, wondering if he was dreaming.

“Y/N?” he finally managed to say, his voice tinged with awe.

She nodded, stepping forward to close the distance between them, her presence a balm to the ache that had settled in his heart. “Surprise,” she said, her smile widening as she wrapped her arms around him in a warm embrace.

Spencer’s arms instinctively encircled her, pulling her close as he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The reality of her being there, in his arms, was almost too much to process. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent that always seemed to calm him.

“How…?” he began, pulling back slightly to look at her, his eyes searching hers for answers. He couldn’t believe she was standing there, right in front of him.

Y/N smiled shyly, her eyes sparkling with excitement and a hint of nervousness. “Well, you see, I never got on the plane,” she confessed, biting her lip as she watched his reaction.

“You never got on the plane?” Spencer echoed, his mind racing to catch up with the reality unfolding before him.

“Nuh uh,” she shook her head, her expression softening. “I called my boss.”

“Okay…” Spencer replied, still processing the unexpected turn of events.

“I quit my job,” she announced, a note of finality in her voice.

“What? Why?” Spencer asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. He knew how much she had dedicated to her work.

“I never liked that job anyway,” Y/N admitted, shrugging slightly as if shedding an old skin.

“You loved that job,” Spencer countered, his voice filled with disbelief.

“Yeah, but I can love another job too,” she said, her smile widening as she stepped inside the apartment with her luggage trailing behind, trying to act casual.

“True… but that doesn’t answer my question,” Spencer replied, closing the door and turning to face her, his heart pounding with hope and anticipation.

Y/N paused, taking a deep breath as she gathered her courage. She met his gaze, her eyes filled with sincerity and warmth. “I also called my building manager.”

“You did?” Spencer asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Mhm. Turns out, breaking a lease isn’t that expensive when you’re month-to-month,” she said, a playful glint in her eyes.

“You broke your lease,” Spencer stated, surprise and admiration coloring his tone.

“Look at you keeping up,” Y/N teased, her voice light and teasing.

“Y/N…” Spencer began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.

“I actually have a question for you,” Y/N said, stepping closer to him, her heart racing with excitement.

“Yes?” Spencer replied, his eyes locked on hers, feeling as if he were on the edge of something wonderful.

“How would you like to have a roommate?” she asked, her tone playful yet earnest. “She’s a little messy, snores a bit, hates to cook, terrible sense of humor, oh and get this, she’s unemployed and homeless.”

Spencer’s heart swelled with emotion, understanding dawning on him as a smile spread across his face. “She sounds like a handful,” he said softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

“You have big hands,” Y/N replied with a playful smirk.

“I’d love to have a roommate… under one condition,” Spencer continued.

“What’s that?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nightly head scratches,” he replied, grinning.

Y/N grinned, feeling a rush of relief and happiness at his response. “Deal,” she said, closing the distance between them and wrapping her arms around him, feeling the weight of uncertainty lift from her shoulders.

Spencer hugged her tightly, his heart full of gratitude and love for the woman who had chosen to stay. In that moment, everything felt right, as if the pieces of his life had finally fallen into place.

“You’re really staying?” Spencer whispered, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes, needing to hear her confirm it once more.

“I’m really staying,” Y/N replied, her eyes shining with certainty and joy.

And with that, they both knew that they were embarking on a new chapter together.

—

Spencer found himself standing in Y/N’s Las Vegas apartment, surrounded by boxes and the faint smell of cardboard and packing tape. It was a chaotic scene, but he was happy to be there, helping Y/N make this big move.

“Billie, this is my boyfriend, Doc Ock,” Y/N introduced with a grin, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Hi, I’m Spencer,” he said, extending a hand with a friendly smile.

“I like Doc Ock,” Billie replied, shaking his hand with a smirk.

“So, there’s two of you... great,” Spencer said sarcastically, throwing a look at Y/N before playfully rolling his eyes. “I’ll be in the U-Haul if you need me.”

“No, you don’t, big guy,” Y/N called after him, laughing. “We need some muscle.”

Billie chuckled, watching Spencer walk away with a theatrical sigh. They turned to Y/N, who was already diving into the nearest pile of boxes.

“Your boyfriend is quite the character,” Billie noted, lifting a box marked "Kitchen" with ease.

“Tell me about it,” Y/N said, shaking her head with a fond smile. “He keeps life interesting, that’s for sure.”

Spencer, returning with a box of his own, joined the conversation. “Hey, just trying to make sure things don’t get too boring around here.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Billie replied, flashing a grin. “With you two, I doubt boredom is ever an issue.”

The trio continued packing, the apartment slowly transforming into a labyrinth of boxes and furniture wrapped in bubble wrap. The atmosphere was filled with a sense of camaraderie and lighthearted banter as they worked together.

Spencer found himself enjoying the easy dynamic between them, appreciating Billie’s quick wit and the comfortable rhythm they had established with Y/N. It felt like being part of a team, and he was grateful for the support and companionship they offered.

As the hours passed, they took a break, sitting on the floor with takeout boxes spread before them. The conversation flowed naturally, shifting from memories of the past to dreams for the future.

“So, what’s the plan once you get to Virginia?” Billie asked, curiosity piqued.

Y/N glanced at Spencer, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Well, we’re going to settle in, explore the area, and just take it one day at a time,” she said, her voice filled with hope and anticipation.

“And maybe find a job I actually like,” Y/N added with a laugh, leaning into Spencer's side. “Something that feels right.”

Spencer nodded, his heart swelling with pride at her tenacity. “I have no doubt you’ll find something amazing,” he said, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

“Yeah, and in the meantime, you’ve got Doc Ock here to keep you entertained,” Billie teased, earning a chuckle from both of them.

As the day drew to a close, the apartment was finally packed up, ready for the move. They stood together, looking at the neatly stacked boxes and feeling a sense of accomplishment and excitement for the new chapter ahead.

“Thanks for everything, Billie,” Y/N said, pulling them into a hug. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Anytime, roomie,” Billie replied, their tone warm and affectionate. “And hey, Spencer, you’re not too bad yourself.”

“Thanks, I’ll take that as a compliment,” Spencer replied, smiling at the camaraderie they had built.

With the final box loaded into the U-Haul, they took one last look around the apartment, the memories they had made within its walls etched in their hearts.

“Ready?” Spencer asked, taking Y/N’s hand in his.

“Ready,” Y/N affirmed, feeling the thrill of the unknown mingling with the comfort of the familiar.

—

Spencer was filled with excitement and nervousness as he and Y/N drove through the scenic roads of Napa Valley, the picturesque vineyards stretching out on either side. The trip had been planned meticulously, a celebration of their one-year anniversary of dating and a nod to the place where their paths had crossed again five years prior.

“I can’t believe we’re back here,” Y/N said, gazing out the window, her eyes alight with nostalgia. “It feels like yesterday that we were running into each other at Adam’s wedding.”

“I know,” Spencer replied, glancing over at her with a warm smile. “It’s hard to believe how much has changed since then.”

They arrived at the hotel, a charming retreat nestled among the vines. As they checked in, Spencer couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu as they were handed the key to Room 212, the very room where their story had taken a new turn five years ago.

“Room 212,” Y/N read aloud, a grin spreading across her face. “You didn’t…”

“I did,” Spencer confirmed, his eyes twinkling with mischief and love. “I thought it would be fitting.”

Once inside the room, Y/N wandered around, taking in the familiar surroundings that were now filled with memories of their first encounter as adults. The atmosphere was charged with a sense of romance and anticipation, the promise of what was to come.

Spencer wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder as they looked out the window at the sprawling vineyards. “I thought we could relive some of our favorite moments,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

“That sounds perfect,” Y/N replied, leaning into his embrace, feeling the warmth and security of his presence envelop her.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the landscape, Spencer suggested they take a walk in the garden, just as they had done five years ago. The garden was as beautiful as ever, the flowers in full bloom, their colors vibrant and alive.

They strolled hand in hand, the world around them quiet and serene. It was as if time had stood still, and the garden was theirs alone. Y/N marveled at the beauty of the moment, unaware of the surprise Spencer had planned.

As they reached a secluded spot where the stars began to twinkle overhead, Spencer stopped, turning to face her. His heart was pounding, but his resolve was steady.

“Hey, babe?” Spencer said, his voice carrying a soft hint of excitement and nervousness.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Y/N turned around, a curious smile on her face, the sunset casting a warm glow on her features.

Spencer took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment as he dropped to one knee. The world seemed to slow down, the colors of the sky blending into a beautiful canvas that mirrored the emotions swirling inside him.

Opening the box, he revealed a stunning ring that caught the light of the setting sun, sparkling like the stars beginning to emerge above them. “Will you marry me, Y/N?” he asked, his voice full of hope and love.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, and a burst of laughter escaped her lips. “You jerk!” she laughed, tears of joy welling up in her eyes. “Yes, Spencer, of course!”

Spencer slipped the ring onto her finger, rising to his feet to pull her into a tight embrace. Their lips met in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, sealing the promise of their future together.

The garden seemed to shimmer with magic as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world around them fading away. It was a moment that felt both timeless and fleeting, a beautiful beginning to the next chapter of their lives.

As they made their way back to the hotel, hand in hand, Y/N couldn’t help but smile, her mind a whirl of excitement and dreams for the future. The air was crisp with the coolness of the evening, and the soft glow of the hotel lights guided their path.

“I can’t believe you planned all this,” she said, glancing at Spencer with adoration. Her heart felt light, as if it were dancing with every step they took.

Spencer chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through him at her words. “Had to let you redeem yourself for letting all of this go last time,” he replied, gesturing to his body with a playful wink.

Y/N laughed, the sound bright and joyful. “Does the ring come with a gift receipt?” she teased, raising an eyebrow in mock consideration.

Spencer feigned shock, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “Wow, you wound me, darling,” he said, his eyes twinkling with humor.

Their banter continued as they entered the hotel, the familiar surroundings now holding a new significance. The same room where they had reconnected years ago was now a witness to their engagement, a witness to the journey they had taken together.

Back in Room 212, they reminisced about their first meeting, their conversation laced with humor and fond memories. It was a perfect end to a perfect day, one that marked the beginning of a new and exciting chapter in their lives.

As they lay together, wrapped in the comfort of each other’s presence, Spencer felt a deep sense of peace and fulfillment. He knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, bound by the love that had brought them back to this place and would carry them forward into the future.

@spencerreidsreads & @spencerreidsglasses this is for you two ,, lets be friends please <333

hey party people i would love to make a tag list for my posts if anyone is interested in being on it :) you're all so sweet and supportive of my work ! so thank you !!

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 

Lost in Translation: Prologue

Summary: A college student (reader) forms a deep bond with a young professor, Spencer Reid, over weekly study sessions in the library. After months of building a friendship, they share a night together, only for the student to be left alone, Spencer gone without a word.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst, backstory, mild smut (18+)

Warnings/Includes: non-descriptive smut (18+), talks of sex, alcohol, professor/student relationship (but it's Spencer and he's 18 like his students), being used for sex, loss of virginity, (un)requited feelings, no happy ending for this part

Word count: 8.6k

a/n: new story just dropped lol -- wrote so fucking fast and not edited at all sorryyyy

main masterlist part two part three part four

Being a wonder kid, Spencer Reid’s youth was one of isolation. Growing up too young, too smart, too awkward—too everything to really fit in—made life difficult. He navigated a world where his intelligence placed him far beyond his peers, yet his age kept him at arm’s length from those who might understand him better. It wasn’t until he began teaching an engineering course while working on his PhD at eighteen that he finally felt a flicker of that belonging.

Standing in front of an auditorium full of undergraduates, Spencer finally experienced something akin to acceptance. The students, many only a few years older than him, loved the fresh, youthful energy he brought to their 8 a.m. class. For the first time, they weren’t learning from a middle-aged professor droning on about equations but from someone who felt like one of them. Spencer’s lectures were passionate, and he brought concepts to life in ways that made the subject not only digestible but genuinely fun.

It didn't hurt that he was handsome either; that soft hair, those gentle brown eyes framed by glasses, and the earnest way he smiled—all of it made more than a few students swoon over him at one point or another. Spencer, of course, remained oblivious to the dreamy stares and flirtatious comments.

Despite his newfound sense of belonging in the classroom, Spencer didn’t really hang out with anyone. He remained somewhat of an enigma—attending his own study groups, tutoring off and on, and sometimes grabbing lunch with faculty who treated him more like an adorable novelty than a colleague. He was used to it by then, that feeling of floating in between worlds. 

But one day, after a particularly engaging lecture on applied mechanics, a student named Jasper approached him. Jasper was bold, with a confident walk and a grin that suggested they weren’t afraid to push boundaries. “Hey, Professor Reid,” they said casually, leaning against the edge of the lecture podium.

“Oh, uh, hi,” Spencer replied, caught slightly off guard as he scrambled to gather his things. He was never quite sure how to handle the one-on-one interactions with students that felt too friendly, too casual. “Did you have a question about the lecture?”

Jasper laughed and shook their head. “No, actually, I was just thinking... Me and my roommates are throwing a party this weekend, and I was wondering if you’d wanna come? You know, kick back, meet some people... No physics or equations, promise.”

Spencer blinked, processing the invitation like a computer struggling to boot up. A party? With students? It felt... like an odd concept, but one that piqued his interest in a way nothing had before. He’d never really had a social invitation like this—especially not one involving people close to his own age. The idea was exhilarating, and for a moment, Spencer could almost feel what it might be like to be just another young adult, rather than the kid-genius-teacher everyone knew him as.

“Really?” Spencer’s eyes lit up, his grin boyish and genuine. “That sounds great, actually! Should I, um... should I bring anything? Snacks? Drinks? I can... figure something out.”

Jasper shook their head, laughter spilling out at how adorably sincere he was being. “No, no, don’t worry about it,” they said, waving off his concern. “Just bring yourself, cutie.” With a teasing wink and a quick flick of their wrist, they slipped a small note with their address into Spencer’s hands. And then, with that same confident stride, Jasper turned and walked away, leaving Spencer to stand there, flushed and stunned, staring down at the address in his palm like it was some secret code to a new world he’d been waiting forever to explore.

—

Spencer stood outside the house, his nerves and excitement mingling as he took in the scene. The address Jasper had given him led him to a lively place: music thumping loudly enough to rattle the windows, laughter spilling out through the open front door, and the warm glow of lights casting playful shadows on the lawn. People were milling around everywhere—huddled in small circles, raising drinks to one another, dancing, and talking loudly over the music. It was the kind of scene Spencer had seen in movies but never really experienced in real life.

Taking a deep breath, he steeled his nerves and stepped inside. He immediately felt out of place in his neat button-down shirt and slacks, compared to the casual party attire of those around him. But he was here, and he was determined to enjoy it. As he made his way through the crowded entryway, Spencer's eyes were wide, absorbing every detail—the smell of popcorn and alcohol mixing in the air, the flashing lights, the loud music, and the laughter. He weaved through groups of students, dodging stray elbows and trying to make eye contact with anyone who might seem familiar. 

However, after a few failed attempts at small talk and realizing that almost everyone he knew was either preoccupied or didn’t recognize him outside the classroom setting, Spencer’s excitement dimmed a bit. He found himself gravitating towards a quieter corner of the living room, eventually sinking into the soft, worn leather of a couch, trying to look relaxed but not too out of place. He sat there, half-heartedly holding a cup of soda someone had pressed into his hand earlier, unsure of what to do next. Every now and then, a familiar face would pass by, and he’d offer a polite wave or smile, but nothing stuck. 

The longer he sat, the more he felt like an observer looking through glass, disconnected from the easy laughter and carefree movements around him. He sighed inwardly, wondering if coming to this party was such a great idea after all. But as he settled back into his seat, he heard an enthusiastic voice shout above the noise.

“Professor Reid!” 

He barely had time to look up before Jasper dropped down beside him on the couch, their presence as warm and electrifying as a flash of lightning. They were so close that the entire side of their body pressed against Spencer's, hip to shoulder, the sudden contact sending a warm jolt through his skin. Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise, and he couldn't help the slight smile that pulled at the corner of his lips.

“Hey!” he greeted, his voice louder than usual to be heard over the music but still tinged with that inherent awkwardness that never quite left him in social situations. He noticed the slight flush in Jasper’s cheeks, their eyes bright and relaxed from the party vibe.

“I thought you were gonna be a no-show,” Jasper teased, leaning in so that their mouth was close to Spencer's ear, their voice buzzing through him. “You seemed kinda nervous when I invited you.”

“N-no, not at all!” Spencer said quickly, though his laugh betrayed his nerves. “I was... just... you know, trying to, uh, soak it all in.”

“Well,” Jasper drawled, dragging out the word like they were savoring it, “now that you're here, we should make sure you have a good time. Can’t have my favorite professor looking all lonely in the corner.” They flashed him that teasing smile, the one that Spencer had come to recognize as Jasper's signature charm, and for a moment, Spencer forgot about the crowded room and the strangers dancing around him.

“Yeah,” he nodded, feeling a bit more relaxed, the warmth from Jasper’s touch making the party seem a little less intimidating. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

That night, Spencer had no idea how things would unfold. What started as casual chatter on that couch quickly transformed into something more charged, more intimate. Jasper had a way of making Spencer feel seen—really seen—and as they talked, leaning into each other, the lines between conversation and flirtation blurred until they no longer existed at all. Eventually, the touches grew longer, more intentional, and Spencer felt his breath catch when Jasper’s fingers brushed against the back of his neck, pulling him closer until their lips finally met.

It was Spencer’s first kiss, and it was exhilarating and nerve-wracking all at once. He was clumsy at first, feeling every ounce of his inexperience and fearing that he was doing everything wrong. But Jasper was patient, guiding him with slow, teasing movements until Spencer’s hesitations melted into something fervent and desperate. They broke apart, breathless and flushed, and before he knew it, Jasper was pulling him up, leading him through the crowded party, down a narrow hallway, and into a bedroom.

There, it happened—the fumbling of clothes, the whispered instructions and reassurances. Spencer's heart pounded in his chest, the nerves and adrenaline mixing with a primal kind of desire he’d never felt before. Jasper seemed to know exactly what they were doing, leading and coaxing Spencer through the motions, and for once, he wasn’t overthinking, wasn’t caught in the spiral of his own mind. He let go, lost in the sensations of touch, taste, and pleasure as he experienced intimacy for the first time.

When it was over, Spencer lay on his back, panting, feeling a mix of awe and disbelief wash over him. He was almost scared to speak, to ask what this all meant. But before he could say anything, Jasper sat up and smiled, giving Spencer a quick, almost dismissive pat on the arm.

“That was fun, Professor,” Jasper said with a playful grin that lacked the intimacy they'd shared moments before. “But I’m gonna get some sleep now. Thanks for, you know, joining in on the fun tonight.”

Spencer sat up, a little dazed and trying to process the sudden shift. He nodded, feeling a strange lump in his throat, and muttered a soft, “Yeah, sure. Thanks... for inviting me.” There was no animosity in Jasper’s tone, but it was clear the night had come to its end. Spencer gathered his clothes, dressed quickly, and slipped out of the room, his head spinning with a thousand thoughts. He walked through the party once more, though he felt almost invisible now, slipping out the front door into the cool night air.

The next class was excruciatingly awkward for Spencer. He’d gone over the lecture material several times, but nothing could prepare him for the moment when Jasper walked in, took a seat right in the middle of the room, and gave him an easy smile like nothing had happened. Spencer struggled to maintain eye contact and found himself stumbling over his words more than usual. He felt exposed, raw, like everyone in that room somehow knew what had happened between them.

But Jasper was unbothered, unfazed—completely casual. It was as if that night was just another blip on their radar, a moment to be shared and then forgotten. And perhaps that was the point. As the days went on, Spencer realized that to Jasper, and probably to many others, it was just another night—no strings, no lingering feelings, just a moment of pleasure and then moving on. 

The realization was strange for Spencer. He couldn't help but question if that was just what sex was—casual, meaningless, but a great way to blow off steam. It felt anticlimactic to think that something so intimate was treated so carelessly, but maybe that was the reality. For all his intellect, this was an area Spencer had little experience in, and he found himself trying to adjust to this new perspective. Maybe this was just the way people did things, and maybe that night with Jasper was simply the start of understanding what it meant to live a life that wasn’t dictated by equations or theories, but by messy, imperfect human experiences.

—

The library was packed with students hunched over textbooks, fingers flying across keyboards, and whispered conversations about study guides. You were already on edge, the stress of your final exam making every little noise seem louder, every empty table harder to find. You hugged your books to your chest, eyes darting around for any free spot, your mind already buried in the formulas and concepts you needed to cram before tomorrow.

Then, without warning, you collided with a solid body as you turned a corner. Your books tumbled out of your grip, scattering across the polished floor. “Shit!” you blurted out, the curse escaping before you could hold it back. “Sorry!” You dropped down immediately to pick up your books, your face burning with embarrassment.

Just as you did, so did the person you’d run into, and the next thing you knew, there was a dull thud as your foreheads collided with a painful smack. You jerked back, clutching your head, eyes watering from the sudden sharp sting.

“Ow,” the guy groaned, rubbing his forehead. He winced, but there was a hint of a laugh behind the pain, a softness in his voice that made your embarrassment double. 

“Fuck, my bad,” you stammered, feeling utterly mortified. “I’m so clumsy.”

The guy chuckled lightly, standing back up as he brushed off his pants. “Me too, it’s alright,” he said. As you looked up, you finally saw who you’d bumped into.

It was him. Professor Reid—the young genius who everyone in your classes seemed to talk about, with rumors that swirled around him like leaves in a storm. The eighteen-year-old PhD who made engineering sound sexy, apparently both in his lectures and in the beds of the more... adventurous students. You’d heard more than one friend gush about how he'd helped them understand a complicated theory in more ways than one, their whispers tinged with admiration and amusement.

And now here he was, standing right in front of you, all tousled curls, warm hazel eyes, and that slightly awkward but undeniably charming smile. The closeness made you realize how tall he was, his lean frame towering over you. You felt a rush of heat creep down your neck, spreading across your skin like wildfire. You’d seen him from afar, of course—catching glimpses of him in lecture halls or around campus—but never up close like this, and he was... so much prettier than you’d expected. 

“Are... are you okay?” Professor Reid asked, still rubbing his head but looking at you with a concern that made your stomach flip. He leaned down, grabbing the books you'd dropped before handing them to you, his fingers brushing against yours briefly.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” you mumbled, gripping your books tightly, trying to ignore the fact that your hand was now tingling where he’d touched it. “I just... wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Neither was I,” he admitted, his smile widening a little as he looked at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I guess we're both guilty.”

“Yeah, guess so,” you said, forcing a laugh. God, why was it so hard to speak right now? You mentally cursed yourself for being so flustered. You quickly glanced around, realizing that most of the tables were still full, and suddenly it dawned on you that there were no available places to sit... except for the table behind him.

“Um... do you—do you mind if I sit here?” you asked, gesturing to the table he’d just been standing beside.

He hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the table and then at you, a strange look crossing his face like he was trying to figure something out. Then, with that same awkward but genuine smile, he nodded. “Yeah, of course. It's all yours.” 

You thanked him quietly, moving to the chair and settling down, but as you did, you couldn't help but steal another glance at him—those curls falling just right, his long fingers thumbing through his notes as he lingered nearby. And as you opened your books, pretending to focus on studying, you couldn't stop sneaking glances at the very attractive, young professor. 

The hour that followed was filled with the gentle rustle of pages turning, pens scratching against paper, and the occasional cough or whisper from other students scattered around the library. But you couldn’t concentrate, not really. Your eyes kept drifting up from your notes to the table across from you, where Professor Reid sat hunched over his books, his focus so intense that you wondered what on earth he could be doing. Every now and then, your gazes would accidentally meet, and you’d look away quickly, your cheeks heating up as if you'd been caught doing something wrong.

You were in the middle of re-reading the same paragraph for the fifth time when you heard his voice break the silence between you. “If you don’t mind me asking,” he began, the soft tone of his voice instantly grabbing your attention, “what course are you studying for?”

Your eyes shot up to meet his, and for a moment, all you could do was blink at him. He was looking at you curiously, genuinely interested, and his expression was kind, almost encouraging. You tucked a stray hair behind your ear and cleared your throat, trying not to let your voice shake as you replied, “Oh, uh, architecture. I’m studying for an exam... final one of the semester.”

“Architecture!” Spencer’s face lit up, and he leaned forward slightly, his eyes sparkling with excitement. It was like you’d just told him the most fascinating thing in the world, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way he seemed so genuinely enthusiastic. “That’s great! I’ve always thought architecture was such a beautiful blend of art and science—it’s like engineering for the soul, you know? There’s so much math involved, but it’s all to create something tangible, something that can change the way people experience space. And the way architecture has evolved over time? It’s like a living timeline of human innovation!”

He continued to ramble, moving from modern skyscrapers to the ancient marvels of Rome, describing the symmetry of cathedrals and the beauty of brutalism. The passion in his voice made every word seem like a story, and you sat there, leaning your chin on your hand, utterly captivated by the way he spoke. It was clear he loved to share knowledge, to connect different ideas, to see how everything fit together like pieces of a puzzle. 

You found yourself smiling wider and wider, nodding along as he spoke, absorbing everything he said not because you needed to know it for your exam, but because he made it all sound so alive. 

“Sorry,” he said suddenly, laughing softly as he realized he’d been talking nonstop for quite a while. He leaned back in his chair, a slight flush in his cheeks. “I tend to... ramble a bit. Especially when it’s something interesting. I hope I’m not distracting you.”

“Not at all,” you assured him quickly, shaking your head. “Actually... I liked listening to you.” 

He seemed surprised by that, his eyebrows raising slightly. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you said, meeting his eyes and offering a shy smile. “You, um... you make it all sound really exciting. It’s nice.”

“Oh, I’m glad,” Spencer smiled, a genuine, soft smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. For a moment, there was a comfortable silence, the kind that lingered like a shared secret. You wanted to say more, to keep the conversation going, to ask him about the things he was passionate about. But before you could find the right words, Spencer glanced down at his watch and began gathering his books.

“I, uh, should get going,” he said, a slight note of regret in his voice. “Lots of things to prepare for—classes and, um... you know, life things.” He gave an awkward laugh, and slung his bag over his shoulder, pausing for a moment as if he were about to say something else, but then just smiled instead. “It was really nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady and casual, despite the fact that your heart was pounding harder than it should have been. He nodded, gave you one last shy smile, and turned to leave, weaving through the tables and shelves of books until he disappeared from view.

You watched him go, the way he held himself with that slight awkwardness, his long stride taking him quickly out of the library. And as soon as he was gone, you slumped back in your chair, letting out a breath. 

For a fleeting moment, you felt hopeful that you might run into him again, that maybe you’d have another one of those conversations that felt easy and exciting all at once. But then you remembered the stories—the whispers about how Professor Reid often slept with students, how it was no big deal to him, just casual fun. And suddenly, you felt foolish for reading anything more into his friendliness. What if he’d only started talking to you because he was trying to woo you into bed? 

You couldn’t deny that he was attractive—very attractive—but if all he saw in you was another potential fling, then maybe it was better not to get your hopes up. After all, Spencer Reid wasn’t like other guys. He was brilliant, handsome, and, from what you’d heard, had more than his share of admirers. You shook your head, trying to brush away the pang of disappointment and return your focus to your notes.

Still, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t quite shake the image of his warm smile or the sound of his voice. And a part of you—just a small part—hoped that maybe, just maybe, there was more to Spencer Reid than the rumors said.

—

You were rushing, nerves jangling through your body like alarm bells. You were running late—really late—and all you could think about was getting to your exam on time. In your panic, you didn’t see the corner coming, your eyes glued to your watch as you cursed yourself for oversleeping. You rounded the bend with way too much speed, and before you could react, you collided hard into someone else. The force knocked you off balance, sending you sprawling to the ground, your books and papers flying in a wild scatter across the floor.

“Oh my!” came a startled voice. “I am so, so sorry, I was just looking for—oh, hi.”

You winced as you propped yourself up on your elbows, but the moment you looked up, your heart sank and soared all at once. There, standing over you, was none other than Professor Reid. He was staring down at you with wide eyes, his expression a mixture of surprise and concern, and his mouth opened as if he wasn't sure whether to apologize or help you up first.

“Oh my God,” you muttered under your breath, scrambling to get back up, your face flushing hot. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going, I just—”

“No, no, please, don’t apologize,” Spencer said quickly, his voice soft but urgent as he bent down to your level. “That was my fault, I wasn’t paying attention either.” He reached out to help you up, his hands gentle as he grasped your arm and steadied you, making sure you didn’t trip over yourself as you stood. “Are you okay?” he asked, eyes darting over you to make sure you weren’t hurt. “I didn’t, um... hurt you or anything, did I?”

“No, I’m fine, really,” you said, though you could feel your whole body tingling from where he touched you, the warmth of his hand lingering even as he let go. You brushed off your pants, trying to regain any semblance of composure despite the fact that you were now not only late but completely flustered.

Spencer began gathering your scattered books and papers, handing them to you with the same focused attention he gave to everything else. He was quick, efficient, but still careful, making sure to line up the pages neatly before passing them back into your hands. “Here you go,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “You, um... dropped a few things.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking the books from him and clutching them to your chest. And then you remembered. “Oh my God, my exam!” You looked at your watch again, the numbers glaring back at you as if taunting your lateness. “I... I have to go, I’m so sorry, Professor Reid, but I really need to—”

“Wait, wait,” Spencer interrupted, a spark of understanding lighting up his eyes. “Is it in the main lecture hall? The big one across campus?”

“Yeah,” you nodded frantically. “I have, like, five minutes to get there or I'm screwed.”

“Then we’d better hurry,” he said, a determined smile breaking across his face. “Come on, I’ll walk with you.” 

“Y-you don’t have to do that, I mean—”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Spencer insisted, already starting to lead the way. “I’m heading that direction anyway.” You both knew that wasn’t true but then, with a quick glance back at you, he added, “Besides, it’s the least I can do after, you know... knocking you over.”

You felt a laugh bubble up in your throat, despite the chaos of the moment. “Okay, thanks,” you said, falling into step beside him. It was a strange, surreal thing—running across campus with Professor Reid at your side, his long legs matching your frantic pace. And even though you were still panicking about being late, there was something oddly comforting about his presence, like the whole situation was slightly less catastrophic just because he was there.

“Don’t worry,” he said between breaths, casting a reassuring glance your way as you both hurried down the path. “You’ll make it. I’ll make sure you get there on time.”

You made it to your exam with barely a minute to spare, heart still racing from sprinting across campus and the whirlwind encounter with Professor Reid. As you settled into your seat, your mind was a jumbled mess of nerves, exhaustion, and the lingering thrill of having Spencer Reid rush beside you, determined to get you there on time. The reality of having bumped into him—literally—and seeing his concerned, handsome face up close again was a distraction you struggled to push away. But as the exam papers were passed out and you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus, you felt a small swell of determination rising within you.

It wasn’t just about passing the exam anymore. No, it was about doing well—really well—because a part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d run into Professor Reid again. And if you did, and if he asked you how your exam had gone, you wanted to be able to look him in those warm, interested eyes and say, “I crushed it.”

And so you put everything into it. Every formula, every theory, every bit of knowledge you’d crammed into your brain over the past few weeks. The hours passed in a blur of scribbled answers and focused thought, and by the time you handed in your paper, you felt a surge of pride and relief. You knew you’d done your best—maybe even better than your best.

—

The new term had settled into a predictable rhythm for you: classes in the morning, work in the afternoons, and then hours spent in the library for some uninterrupted study time. By the third week, you found a comforting routine in the silence and solitude of your favorite corner, tucked away but not too far from the bustle of the main floor. It was your place to dive into note-taking, to tackle assignments, and to escape from the chaos of student life. And though your schedule was tiring, there was something satisfying about the repetition—class, work, library, sleep, repeat.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and you were in the thick of your study session, textbooks spread across the table, fingers tapping absently against your highlighter as you scanned the pages. You were deep into a chapter on sustainable building design when a shadow fell over your table, and you heard a voice.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?”

You looked up, and immediately, your breath caught in your throat. You didn't need to see his face to know who it was, but the confirmation was still enough to make your heart skip a beat. Professor Reid stood there with that same friendly, slightly awkward smile, his bag slung over his shoulder and a stack of books in his arms.

“Professor Reid,” you greeted with a smile of your own, trying not to let on how quickly your pulse was racing. “Of course, go ahead.”

“Thanks,” he said, his eyes crinkling in that gentle way as he pulled out the chair across from you. He sat down, settling his things on the table with a soft thud, and for a moment, you were both just... there, in the kind of companionable silence that libraries are made for. Spencer pulled out his own work, a notebook and a pile of papers, and began arranging them neatly before him, his fingers tapping thoughtfully against the edge of a binder.

“Preparing for midterms?” he asked after a moment, glancing up at you with a tilt of his head, genuinely interested.

“Yeah,” you sighed, giving a little shrug as you gestured to your scattered materials. “Trying to get ahead, make sure I don’t fall behind. You know how it is.”

“I do,” he laughed softly, his gaze drifting to the open book in front of you. “I’m writing one, actually. One of the joys of being on the other side of the classroom.”

“Wow,” you said, the laughter bubbling up before you could stop it. “That... actually sounds like way more pressure than taking one.”

“It can be,” Spencer admitted, a lighthearted grin playing on his lips. “I always end up overthinking it, trying to make the questions fair but challenging, relevant but not too obscure. It’s like creating a puzzle that someone’s actually going to solve.”

You nodded along, smiling at how earnest he was. “That sounds... kind of like how I feel about taking exams, actually. Trying to solve the puzzle without knowing if you even have all the right pieces.”

Spencer leaned back in his chair, his eyes lighting up as he considered that. “Exactly,” he said, like he’d never thought of it that way before. “It’s a lot like that. But the fun part is watching the different ways people solve it, the different approaches and interpretations. It’s... fascinating, really.”

As he spoke, you couldn’t help but watch him, his hands moving expressively as he talked, the way he was so animated about his work. You’d heard him lecture from afar, but this—this was different. There was something more intimate about being across from him like this, sharing space, sharing thoughts. 

You smiled, leaning forward a bit. “Sounds like you really enjoy it.”

“I do,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost reflective. “It’s nice to be able to help people understand things, to make learning something enjoyable instead of a chore.”

You nodded, and for a while, the two of you sat there, working side by side, an unspoken connection forming over the shared silence and occasional exchanges. And though you were both absorbed in your own work, you knew now that this wouldn’t be the last time you’d find yourselves at the same table, sharing the same quiet space amidst the noise of college life.

Every Thursday for the rest of the term, your routine became intertwined with Spencer’s. You’d meet in your usual spot in the library, setting up your notes and books, and he'd arrive not long after, dropping into the chair across from you like he belonged there. And for hours, you’d sit together—sometimes in comfortable silence, sometimes falling into deep conversations about classes, life, and everything in between. It was almost comical when, after weeks of these meetings, he finally looked up at you, eyes wide with realization, and laughed softly.

“You know,” he said, smiling sheepishly, “I don’t think I ever asked you your name.”

You couldn’t help but laugh too, blurting it out in a rush, and he repeated it back to you like he was savoring the sound of it. And just like that, something clicked into place. He’d ask about your exams, your grades, always genuinely interested in how you were doing. You, in turn, asked about his lectures and the classes he was teaching, and he would share his thoughts on the challenges of balancing students’ needs, all with that passion and depth you had come to expect from him. 

Your friendship blossomed, but it was always contained to those Thursday evenings at the library. It was a boundary neither of you seemed to cross—studying together, talking, connecting, but never making plans outside of the walls of academia. And that was fine, for a time. But as the end of your freshman year loomed closer and summer break approached, the thought of leaving and not seeing Spencer every week weighed on you more than you’d expected.

One Thursday, when you could barely focus on your notes because of it, you found yourself fidgeting, chewing on your pen cap as you tried to summon the courage to speak. Eventually, you couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“Spencer?” you asked, your voice quiet over the hum of the library around you.

“Mhm?” he responded, not looking up from the papers he was reading through but giving a small nod to show he was listening.

You swallowed, nerves bubbling up, but pushed through. “Would you, um, want to come over after exams end? You know, to... say goodbye to the year?”

Spencer paused, his pen freezing mid-note, and he looked up, surprise flashing across his features. He hadn’t expected that, and you could see the wheels turning in his mind as he considered your offer. The idea of spending time together outside the library, beyond your weekly tradition, was both tempting and concerning for him. He’d grown fond of your friendship, of the way you made him laugh and didn’t expect anything from him except a shared space and genuine conversation. But, deep down, a part of him still feared being used like so many others had. 

Yet, there was something earnest in your eyes, something that made him think maybe, just maybe, you really did just want to hang out. To be friends, and nothing more. He let out a small breath, nodding slowly. “Sure,” he said, offering a tentative smile. “What did you have in mind?”

Your cheeks flushed, and you hoped the heat wasn’t too obvious as you scratched the back of your neck, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “Uh, I didn’t plan that far ahead,” you admitted with a nervous laugh. “Maybe... a movie? Just something casual.”

“Casual,” he repeated, almost as if testing the word out, and then his smile widened, a bit of relief and something like excitement brightening his eyes. “Yeah. A movie sounds good.” 

And just like that, you found yourself looking forward to what might be the start of something new—something beyond Thursday study sessions, something more than a quiet routine.

The Friday after final exams, you paced your dorm room, nerves buzzing through you like electricity. You'd barely slept since inviting Spencer over—second-guessing every detail, every word you’d said. But now, as you checked your phone again, you reminded yourself that it was just a movie, just two friends hanging out to say goodbye to the year. Nothing more. You tried to convince yourself that it was normal to be this excited.

And right on time—exactly at 7 p.m.—you heard a knock at your door. Spencer's punctuality didn’t surprise you, but it did send a rush of excitement through your veins. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, before walking over to the door and opening it.

There he stood, dressed in casual jeans and a plain button-up shirt, looking somehow both effortlessly put together and adorably uncertain all at once. His curls were a bit messy, his glasses slightly askew, and he clutched a bag of something in his hands, which he immediately offered up to you with a slightly bashful smile.

“Um, I wasn’t sure if I should bring something, so I, uh, brought snacks?” he said, holding up the bag like it was a peace offering. You could see a mix of candy, chips, and a few other treats inside.

You grinned, stepping aside to let him in. “You didn’t have to bring anything, but thank you—that’s perfect.” You felt a wave of relief wash over you as he stepped into your room, glancing around with curious eyes as he took in the posters on the wall, the books scattered on your desk, the remnants of your rushed packing for summer break.

“Your roommate left already?” he asked, looking over at the other, empty half of the room.

“Yeah, they went home the day after finals,” you said, trying not to sound too relieved about having the room to yourself. “So it’s just us.”

“Just us,” Spencer repeated, the words hanging in the air with a nervous tinge in his voice. He smiled softly and set the bag of snacks on your bed, taking off his shoes and settling in as if he were almost comfortable—almost.

“So,” you began, moving to sit beside him, your nerves starting to subside as you relaxed into the familiar presence of your study partner turned friend. “I thought we could just pick something light to watch, you know? Nothing too serious.”

“Light sounds good,” Spencer nodded, pushing his glasses up his nose, and for a moment, there was that playful glimmer in his eyes—the same one you’d seen during your library sessions, when a joke or comment would catch him off guard. 

You leaned forward to pick up the remote, scrolling through the options until you landed on a few comedies and light-hearted movies. You tossed out a few suggestions, and eventually, the two of you settled on a movie neither of you had seen before—some easygoing, feel-good flick that you knew would make you both laugh and not require too much thinking. You hit play, and as the opening credits rolled, you sank back into the pillows, side by side with Spencer.

There was a comforting quiet between you, a sense of familiarity even in the newness of the situation. And as the movie played and the two of you slowly started sharing the snacks he’d brought, laughing at the jokes on-screen, you felt that same feeling you always did on Thursday nights—the calm certainty that, somehow, this was exactly where you were meant to be.

The movie had been on for about thirty minutes, and both of you were already lost in the silly over-the-top humor. It wasn’t long before the playful energy from the screen found its way into your own conversation, and you couldn’t resist teasing Spencer a little every time he laughed at something you found particularly cheesy.

“Oh, come on,” you grinned, nudging his shoulder with yours. “I can’t believe you’re actually laughing at this. I thought you had... you know, a refined sense of humor.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Hey, I can appreciate a good joke, okay? Even the dumb ones. It’s called versatility,” he said, giving you a sidelong glance before popping a piece of candy into his mouth.

“Uh-huh,” you said, leaning closer as if you were about to share a secret. “You’re just pretending to like it so you don’t hurt my feelings.”

He chuckled, turning to face you, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him as his knee bumped lightly against yours. “Trust me,” he said, voice low with that familiar teasing lilt, “I’m not pretending. I genuinely think this movie is... absurdly entertaining.”

“Absurdly entertaining, huh?” you said, narrowing your eyes as you leaned in just a little more, close enough to see the golden flecks in his hazel eyes. “I think that’s code for ‘terrible but in a fun way.’”

“Okay, maybe it is a little terrible,” he admitted, laughing openly now. “But in the best way.”

The lightness in his voice, the ease with which you bantered—it felt effortless. And then, suddenly, there was a shift. His laughter trailed off as he looked at you, his gaze lingering just a beat longer than usual. Your faces were so close, your knees brushing, your shoulders almost touching, and you noticed the way he was looking at you—like he was trying to decide something.

Spencer’s mind was a whirlpool of conflicting thoughts. He wanted to flirt, to let the playful banter turn into something more, but a voice in his head reminded him of past experiences—where interest in him was just a prelude to sex, a quick thrill before moving on. He didn’t want that with you. You were different—kind, genuine, and he didn’t want to ruin whatever you had by crossing a line.

And ever since meeting you, Spencer hadn’t slept with anyone. Your study sessions, conversations, and simple presence filled a void in him; being around you was all the release he needed. Now, sitting beside you, he just wanted to keep this intact, afraid that taking a step further might shatter what he cherished so much.

Little did Spencer know, your own thoughts were tangled with doubt. You'd been excited for this night ever since he said yes, but now, sitting so close to him, you wondered if he'd only come over for the same reason he might have gone to others in the past: sex.

The whispers around campus about Professor Reid’s quick, casual flings were hard to ignore. Reconciling that with the sweet, earnest man beside you felt impossible, but still, the thought gnawed at you. What if, to him, you were just another fleeting encounter before summer ended?

You wanted to believe that your Thursday study sessions meant more than a prelude to something casual, but the worry hung there, making your hand pause before reaching for the snacks. What if you were misreading everything? And if this was just casual to him, could you handle it, or would you rather preserve what you had now?

You glanced at Spencer, who was focused on the movie but stealing nervous glances your way. It was clear he was treading carefully, and you could feel the irony—both of you caught on the edge, too afraid to find out what the other truly wanted.

When the movie ended, the credits rolling silently on the screen, neither of you moved to turn it off or get up. There was an unspoken tension in the room, a pull that made it hard for either of you to suggest that this night should end. 

“Do you want to watch another movie?” you blurted out just as Spencer said, “I really like hanging out with you.” 

You both paused, your words colliding mid-air, and then burst into laughter. It was awkward, sure, but it was the kind of awkward that felt endearing, pulling you closer instead of apart. The kind that made you grateful for the comfortable silence that followed, where you both sat smiling like fools.

“Another movie sounds great,” he said, the grin on his face not fading, and you nodded in agreement. You both took a break—stretching, refreshing snacks, and using the restroom. When you returned to your dorm room, you found Spencer sitting more toward the middle of your bed, and when you slid in next to him, your bodies ended up pressed tightly together, the heat of his side warming yours through your clothes. You were hyper-aware of every place where you touched, but neither of you pulled away.

“Your turn to pick,” you said softly, handing him the laptop.

Spencer flipped through the options with focused eyes, and finally, he settled on a film—a foreign romance, its title scrolling across the screen in delicate script. You raised an eyebrow, curious but also a little lost. “Spencer,” you said, trying not to sound too nervous, “I, uh, don’t speak French.”

His eyes met yours, and this time, the way he looked at you was different—more intense, like he was seeing something in you that hadn’t been spoken aloud. It sent a shiver down your spine. “That’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and almost intimate. “I can whisper translate for you... if you don’t mind.”

The idea of Spencer leaning in close, his voice softly whispering translations in your ear as romantic lines played out on the screen, made your heart race in a way you couldn't control. You could practically feel his breath on your neck already, the warmth of his words settling into your skin. 

“Okay,” you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper, the word catching on your lips as you tried to keep your composure. 

You pressed play, and as the opening scene unfolded, you found yourself sinking deeper into the bed, Spencer’s body comfortably close to yours, and your heart pounding in anticipation of every word he would breathe into the small space between you.

The movie’s soft music and dreamy cinematography made it easy to get lost in its world, but it was Spencer’s voice—low, rich, and soothing—that anchored you. He leaned in, and his breath brushed against your skin as he whispered the translation, his tone low and almost reverent.

“Élise tells her...” he began, his voice wrapping around you like a warm blanket, “‘When I'm near you... everything disappears. The whole world, the sounds, time... there's only you and me.’”

The words hung in the air, and your senses were drawn to the way his lips moved against you as he concentrated on the words. You couldn't help but feel mesmerized by the way he brought the romance to life, the intensity in his whisper making your skin tingle with every syllable. 

“Juliet replies...” he continued, not yet noticing how your attention was fully on him now. “‘You are the reason I breathe, Élise. Every beat of my heart... it whispers your name. If I could, I would spend every second of my life looking at you.’”

And that’s exactly what you did now—look at him. His eyes were still on the screen, but there was something in his expression that felt vulnerable, open, as if he wasn’t just translating lines, but baring something deeper, something unspoken between you. You couldn’t resist leaning in just a little closer, every inch of your body hyper-aware of the closeness between you.

“‘Then look at me... and never let me go,’” he whispered, and when he finally turned to meet your gaze, the intensity in his eyes nearly took your breath away. His voice was softer, more intimate, as if he was no longer speaking for the movie characters but for the two of you alone. “‘Because without you, I'm lost. You are my everything.’”

Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as you stared at each other, your faces so close now that you could see the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes, the way his breath came out just a bit more quickly. Spencer’s eyes searched yours, and you could see the hesitation in them, the question he didn’t dare ask.

“‘I promise you... never, ever will I let you go,’” he whispered, his voice barely audible, his lips only a breath away. “‘Because I love you... more than anything in the world.’”

Neither of you moved, frozen in that charged space between a word and a touch, every part of you yearning to close the gap as the rest of the world fell away.

The words hung in the air, your shared gaze brimming with something unspoken and heavy. And then, as if on cue, both of you turned your eyes back to the screen, where Élise and Juliet leaned in, their faces close, the tension snapping as they fell into a deep, passionate kiss. The soft sounds of the movie filled the silence between you.

“Do you want me to translate that?” Spencer asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath warm on your cheek. The words were teasing but tentative, laced with a hope that sent a shiver down your spine.

But before he could say anything more, before you could second-guess the pounding of your heart, you closed the space between you. Your lips met his in a sudden, breathless kiss that left no room for doubt or hesitation. The taste of him, soft and warm, was everything you had imagined it would be. You felt Spencer’s sharp inhale, the surprise in his body, but then he melted into you, his mouth moving against yours like it was something he'd been waiting for all along. 

His hand came up to cup your cheek, gentle but sure, pulling you closer, and the world disappeared—just like Élise had whispered—leaving only you and him in the electrifying moment of finally letting go.

Deep down, both of you felt that nagging worry—was this just a fleeting moment, a one-time thing? But as your lips moved together, those thoughts slipped away, overwhelmed by the heat of the moment, the desperation in every kiss and touch. Spencer laid you back gently, his hands trembling slightly as he held you, his eyes searching yours for any sign that you wanted to stop. But there was only desire and your verbal confirmation, and so he continued, showing you the skills he’d learned over the past year.

And when the clothes were shed and the vulnerability became all-consuming, you allowed him to take your virginity, holding back that delicate truth out of embarrassment over your own inexperience. You didn’t want him to stop, didn’t want to add more pressure to a moment already so fragile and important to you both. Spencer, in turn, treated you with a reverence that spoke to his genuine care, his every touch slow and deliberate, like he was savoring each second. 

It was the most passionate, mind-blowing experience Spencer had ever had. Every gasp, every whispered name, every shared look made it clear why—it was you, and it felt like something more than just sex, something deeper, like he was baring his soul alongside his body. When it was over, the two of you lay tangled together, hearts still racing, bodies wrapped around each other like you could hold the moment in place forever. And in that perfect silence, Spencer’s arms became a haven, and you drifted off to sleep, feeling safe, happy, and loved.

But morning came like a cold shock. You reached out across the bed, seeking his warmth, and found only emptiness. The sheets were cool, and Spencer was gone—no note, no sign of him ever having been there. The joy, the love, the comfort you’d fallen asleep to vanished with the sunrise, leaving behind an aching emptiness and the haunting fear that maybe all your doubts were true.

—

Summer came and went, and though the days were warm and filled with distractions, nothing eased the emptiness Spencer left behind. The pain of waking up to find him gone never faded, and as you returned to campus for your sophomore year, the ache of his absence settled in deeper, an open wound that wouldn’t heal.

You looked for him—hoping to see that familiar face in the library, in a lecture hall, anywhere on campus—but every search ended in disappointment. It was like he’d vanished, leaving not a trace behind. Over the next three years, you went through the motions, diving into your studies and trying to let go of what happened, but the memory of him never left, haunting every quiet moment and making you wonder what you'd done wrong.

The truth was clear to you now: Spencer had used you, filling some void in himself for one night, and then disappearing, leaving a much larger void in your own heart.

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

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