I Cannot Stop Reading This. I Don't Usually Read Series, But This One Has Me HOOKED.

jealousy, jealousy / aaron hotchner

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Morgan understands your reaction immediately and laughs out loud. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t think you’re my girl?” 

Perfection.

hotchner!reader (hotch’s daughter) who’s married/dating Spencer, and then telling her dad she’s pregnant, lots of fluff please!! :)<3

goads and goats | S.R.

telling your dad (who is also your boss) you're having a baby ends in him giving spencer a hard time

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: accidental pregnancy, missed period, hotchner!reader, pregnant!reader, not proofread, dad!hotch, established relationship word count: 1.01k a/n: i have been so down and out about writing recently but i had so much fun writing this. i firmly believe that if spencer was dating hotch's daughter hotch would never let that man have a moment of peace.

“He’s going to throttle me,” your boyfriend announced mournfully, holding the door open for you to enter headquarters, the two of you flashing your badges at security before passing through the metal detectors together.

Rolling your eyes, you reached your hand out and nearly dragged him into the elevator with you. He had been digging his heels in the mud all morning, even going so far as to propose playing hooky, which you were fairly certain he had never done in the history of ever. “He is not going to throttle you. I mean, just imagine the HR implications,” you gently chastised, watching Spencer as he leaned against the wall of the elevator. “Hey,” you said, standing in front of him, you placed a hand on his chest, “We don’t have to tell him today, you know. It could be our little secret for a while.”

Quicker than you expected, Spencer shook his head, “Of course, we have to tell him today. What would happen if you got sent out into the field?” He self-consciously readjusted the strap of his shoulder bag before looking up to watch the floor numbers rise as the elevator went up, “If we didn’t tell him because of my own reservations and then something happened to you, it’d… I’d…”

Your chest clenched as his voice trailed off and you thought of the positive pregnancy tests that were still sitting on your bathroom counter. The tiny wad of cells that had been settling in your womb for weeks without your knowledge – until Spencer asked if you needed pads while you had been grocery shopping – was already so loved.

The first test had come back with such a faint line that you convinced yourself it was just a shadow of an indent on the fragile plastic, but the test you took this morning had been glaringly positive. Slowly, you reached out and took Spencer’s hand, intertwining your fingers as the door to the elevator opened and the two of you stepped out together, “Nothing’s going to happen to me, okay?”

Taking a deep breath, he nodded while holding the glass door to the bullpen open for you, glancing up, you saw that your dad’s office door was open. As soon as you set your things at your desk, you looked at Spencer, nodding up the steps, figuring it was better to do this now than wait.

By Spencer’s math, you were approximately five weeks pregnant, much earlier than people usually elect to share their news. Still, both of you immediately decided it was in your best interest to let your dad know right away.

Leading the way, you knocked on the heavy wooden door to get his attention, his head snapped up in the direction of the noise, shoulders relaxing slightly when he saw it was you, likely having thought a case was being brought in. “Do you have a second?” You asked softly, nerves creeping up as your father waved the both of you in.

“For you, of course,” he responded, nodding at Spencer in acknowledgment before watching suspiciously as the two of you sat in the chairs in front of his desk. “What’s wrong?” He asked, watching you fold and unfold your hands in your lap, it didn’t help that Spencer looked like he had been called into the principal’s office.

You shook your head, “Nothing’s wrong, Dad. We just needed to have a chat,” you told him.

Frowning, his curiosity deepened, “A chat?” Hotch questioned the word that wasn’t a frequent flyer in your lexicon.

“A talk?” You tried again meekly, knowing that he’d start making his own conclusions if you didn’t say something soon.

He looked over at your boyfriend, “If it’s just a talk then why is Reid avoiding eye contact?”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you exhaled heavily, “We should’ve waited,” you muttered to no one in particular.

“Waited for what, exactly? You’re not splitting up, are you?” He inquired, likely developing a list of forms that would need to be filled out if the two of you had in fact broken up.

You waved your hand aimlessly in the air. It seemed that neither of you had fully understood how hard it would be to announce your accidental pregnancy to your father and your boss simultaneously.

Since neither of you spoke, your father continued, “I’m obligated to side with my daughter. Which isn’t solely based on my belief that she can do no wrong, but if-“

“I’m pregnant,” you blurted, clamping your hand over your mouth as if you could recapture the words that had flown from your lips.

What followed was the silence that you had dreaded. Weren’t people supposed to jump for joy in situations like this? However, the moment Hotch jumped for joy for anything would likely end in someone being institutionalized.

Slowly, you dropped your hand from your mouth, watching your father as if he were a ticking time bomb.

“Is this a good thing?” He asked, finally shattering the wall of silence that had been put up.

Your eyes widened as you looked between your father and your boyfriend, “Oh, yes! We’re very happy,” you clarified, bracing your hands on the armrests of your chair.

Finally, your dad smiled and stood up from his desk chair, waving you over and enveloping you in a hug, “Then congratulations,” he told you, pulling away slightly, “How long have you known?”

You looked back at Spencer, who was standing up beside you and looking decidedly less nervous, “About ten hours,” he answered for the both of you.

Releasing you, your father looked your boyfriend up and down, “You should probably get married before the baby arrives,” he suggested. You recognized the mischievous look on his face – you frequently sported the same look.

“Right, of course,” Spencer said, straightening his posture behind you, nerves once again emanating from him.

You held a hand up, “An incredibly bold statement considering I was in your wedding,” you peered at your father.

Ignoring you, your dad continued, “So, we should settle on a dowry.”

“Dad!”

Champion Of Flirting - Sebastian Vettel

@herdetectivetheorist prompt 5 & 20 (sorry 3 was already taken for Max but we'll make it work) - "Want to try that again?" & "You'll regret this." "I'll regret not doing it more."

Summary: Y/n is a new reporter in F1 and she is trying her best not to let a certain young world champion seduce her, but she's struggling (as anyone would)

Red Bull 2011!Sebastian x shy for only Seb!reader

Warnings/themes: Pre-smut but no actual smut

Word count: 1.3k

No one would deny Sebastian is famous for a multitude of things. From his quick jump up from Toro Rosso into Red Bull despite fight back from Mark, his continuous wins, his record setting championship win and he's no failure with women either.

So when a new reporter is brought in, specifically for getting interviews with the drivers, his attention is grabbed by the woman who tries to overcome her shyness around him but he never aims to aid her.

"Hello, y/n." Seb greets as he walks to the media pen and even pushed Lewis out of the way to get in with y/n first.

"Hello, Sebastian." Y/n smiles already looking like she's getting a little flustered from his light eyes remaining glued on her like he's attached himself to her. "Do you feel good?"

Amusement sparkles behind his eyes as he watches her wince at the way she worded that question. He'd almost think she did it on purpose if y/n knew how to handle his presence and the effect he seems to have on her.

"Want to try that again? They can cut that." Seb smirks making her sigh then readjust trying to compose herself.

"How do you feel going into this weekend?" She asks since it's only a Thursday and he hasn't been on track yet.

Seb does answer the question in a professional manner giving her something decent to work with to redeem herself over the badly wording of her question. Not that he actually thinks it was that bad at all and he would've given the same answer regardless but it's not always that simple.

"Thank you." Y/n mumbles as Seb is steered away by his media babysitter, as he likes to refer to them since that's what it feels like a lot more than anything else.

"No problem." Seb smiles shooting her a wink as he does so.

He keeps watching her out the corner of his eye as he does other interviews and watches her seem a little more at ease with other drivers. Even his own teammate which is a little annoying because he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable. He really likes the young woman and he has a certain fondness that he can't shake with her.

-

Sebastian won the Turkish gran prix and made a point to search for y/n immediately after the post-race chaos. Finding her packing up for the day and getting ready to catch a flight home.

She doesn't get the luxury of flying anything better than economy and she is always moving quickly to get herself home because she doesn't have the back up finances to pay for another ticket out of pocket.

"Come celebrate with me." Sebastian demands catching her attention while she immediately loses her voice. "I promise you a good time."

"Sorry, I have a flight I can't miss." Y/n mumbles while Seb sighs at her.

"You can get a flight back with me tomorrow."

"My hotel."

"We'll probably be leaving straight from celebrations. I'm not celebrating without you, so you have to come with me." Sebastian states not really giving her an option but only because he knows she'd put her foot and and decline if she really didn't want to. But on the chance she's too shy to actually say no. "If you don't want to, I won't really force you."

"No-I'll come with you." Y/n rushes out then managing a smile. "It sounds fun."

"Come on then, you will be part of the Red Bull team tonight." Sebastian smiles feeling a victory. Actually a big victory. The fact that y/n accepted his invitation to the party feels a bit like a bigger achievement since he fully expected her to to just shut him down and decline with no hesitation of changing of her mind.

-

Going to celebrate with Sebastian definitely felt like it was the right choice. Especially as she gets a couple drinks in her. Not getting drunk but definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol.

Maybe she should've actually tried to be more resilient to Sebastian's similarly tipsy whispers and light touches. But he talked her into coming back to his hotel because unlike expected they left the night out earlier than previously discussed.

But as they find themselves alone in each other's company. Y/n gently closes the space. Her liquid courage making her usual shyness and inability to find enough words to structure a full sentence having long since disappeared from the space between them.

"You'll regret this." Sebastian comments since even being less than sober, he knows y/n's lips ghosting over his own is something she'll think about when they part from each other.

"I'll regret not doing it more." Y/n whispers practically breathless as she completely closes the space between them.

Feeling her lips on his own is like getting a hit of a drug he didn't know he was waiting for a hit of.

"Don't change your mind. I don't want to stop." Sebastian states and she certainly isn't about to be the one who pushes for them to stop. She almost feels like she's overwhelmed by how good it feels to kiss the blonde f1 champion.

But she doesn't want to stop and she's desperate for more. To the point she's pushing his lean body backwards to the bed till his legs hit the edge and he accepts his position of being pushed back onto the surface.

"I need to feel you." Sebastian grunts rolling them over so she drops beneath him and he can gain some more control over the situation which earns a moan from the young woman.

-

Y/n definitely feels like this is a walk of shame as she follows Sebastian onto the private jet. But at the same time Sebastian is so completely unapologetic about his actions with her and he takes her hand into his own as they do.

"Sebastian." Y/n mumbles making him hum and smile dragging those blue eyes up to look at her and he reads her unspoken thoughts without her opening her mouth.

"You are not going to break my heart now are you?" Sebastian questions with the brutal honesty that forces her to accept that she really has two options: quit her job as soon as she's off the jet and completely prevent him from pursuing her or actually let herself have something nice and just accept his advances as more than just sex.

"No." Y/n whispers earning a toothy grin before he leans over and kisses her cheek. "But you can't keep flirting-"

"People would think something is wrong if I stopped flirting with you. Anyway, now I have the best reason to flirt with you." Sebastian smirks looking very victorious even if he's a little disheveled since they had to rush from the hotel to get here in order to stop the jet from being delayed for take off.

"Fantastic." Y/n hums while Sebastian grins just happy that she isn't fighting him about it. "So it's going to get more obvious and aggressive with your flirting?"

"Oh yes." Sebastian confirms not even seeing the issue with such a thing.

This is so cute, I love it

LOUD AND CLEAR | LN4

pairing: lando norris x fem!deaf reader

summary: the 4 times that fans noticed the way lando was with you and the 1 time they finally realized why.

warnings: none i don't think

1.the garage whispers

fans noticed things, they always did, but sometimes their reasons were a little bit off, like with lando and his girlfriend.

you had been in the mclaren garage one day. while lando's world was loud, yours was quiet. you were completely deaf, you had cochlear implants but sometimes during race weekends they would get overwhelmed with the loud noise making it harder to process what was happening.

one thing that lando never failed to do though was lean closer for you to hear him. his head falling down so his lips were by your ear, making sure your implants could pick up what he was saying.

"you okay?" he asked you, his voice soft and gentle but still loud enough for your implants to pick up easily, his hand gently resting at the small of your back.

you nodded your head with a smile, "just loud" you say softly.

he nodded his head knowing you hated when he fussed over you and that if you got overwhelmed you'd either tell him or you would leave so he knew you were okay.

his hand came up to tap his heart 3 times, not exactly sign language but a sign that you both had started doing, the simple act saying "i love you."

you smiled and tapped your heart back before saying a small goodbye to him as he left to go get ready for qualifying.

the small whispers and acts didn't go unnoticed by fans though, their theories being far from the truth though.

user1: the way lando's so in love with her user2: watching them whisper to each other feels so intimate user3: WHAT DID HE SAY TO HER?

2.his little taps

lando didn't ever call for you, even when you could hear him. every time he wanted your attention he would simply tap you, a small shoulder tap, the squeeze of an arm, tap on the wrist, just something small.

one time that it was noticed by fans was when you were walking into the paddock together. lando had gotten stopped by some fans and as if on instinct his hand had come to tap your shoulder to get your attention

you turned to him with a small smile, watching as he didn't say anything simply gesturing to the group of fans letting you know he had stopped to sign some stuff, standing and waiting for him to finish with the fans before you guys continued. nothing had been said between the two of you, just silent communication which definitely caused an uproar between fans.

user1: why did bro tap her instead of calling for her user2: he's so in love he needs her to feel him before he speaks user3: they're actually so cute, the way he didn't have to say anything and she knew.

3.face offs

even when you were wearing your cochlears sometimes it was hard to hear so lando would always face you when he spoke so you could read his lips easier.

dinner? he was sat in front of you. talking with fans? he made sure you were stood in front of who was talking to you if you were with him. interviews? if you were watching he was always facing you in some way so you could see his lips.

fans picked up on the pattern easily. the way he always stood in front of you before he started speaking, or the way he'd turn your head, it confused them for sure not knowing the reasoning but they still speculated.

user1: lando being a soft boyfriend for the 200th time. user2: the way he always makes sure she can see him, i love them your honor :( user3: they're so in love it's sickening

4. the signs

it was a no brainer that lando would learn sign language when you guys started to date, despite being able to hear him with your implants he still wanted to learn so if you weren't wearing them he could communicate.

the moment the fans started noticing was during a podium. lando had just finished in P2 and while he was up there he had signed "i love you" to you. from there the fans had started noticing the smaller moments.

the small signs in the garage when he was talking to you, the random signs in interviews as if someone was watching that he wanted them to see.

a favorite clip would be during one of lando's twitch streams though. he was playing a game but suddenly had paused it turning to look in the doorway. you were off camera so they couldn't see you as you stood trying to get lando's attention without disturbing him.

what they did see though was the way lando turned to you and instead of saying anything he had signed with his hands, a silent conversation just for the two of you.

"sorry guys, just checking something," lando had said after turning back to the stream when you had left, leaving the fans confused.

user1: WAS HE SIGNING? user2: since when did lando know sign language? user3: was he signing to Y/N?

+1 the time where everything clicked.

you had been with lando in the paddock one day during a race weekend. at this point you were deaf to the world because the batteries for your implants had died. you were stood scourging for your spares in lando's bag when fans came up, getting lando's attention and trying to get yours.

they were confused when they called your name and you didn't answer until lando tapped you making your head look up from where it was buried searching in the bag on his back, a huge smile coming to your face when you notice the fans.

"hi!" you say as you come to stand at lando's side.

"she's deaf, she can read lips though so just make sure you're facing her when you speak," lando explained, signing with his hands.

the fans' mouths dropped, everything making so much more sense to them, the whispers, the small taps, the way he was always faced to you, the way he knew sign language.

while you talked with fans, taking a couple times to ask for repeats, lando was searching in his bag for your batteries, changing them out for you before a gentle hand came to your shoulder to not startle you as he put them on for you, the noise of the paddock filling your ears as they connected.

the both of you finished talking with the fans, taking a couple pictures with them before saying goodbye, knowing the announcement was about to break the internet.

user1: omg she's deaf it all makes so much more sense now. user2: STOP HE LEARNED SIGN LANGUAGE FOR HER user3: lando "i'd learn another language for her" norris user4: they are actually so cute

everything clicked for the fans after that day, and suddenly lando's love for you was so much bigger, because he didn't just love you, he understood you, and did everything he could do so you could understand him.

I shouldn't be smiling as much as I am right now

Classroom Talk | Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer drops your lunch off to your classroom filled with apparent love experts, who then question the man you’re with and tease you two for not being married yet…

A/N: idk why but I just thought of this, it’s adorable though. Not proofread too tired for that. LOL.

BYR(b4 you Reid): light teasing, Spencer getting kind of bullied by teens, and fluff :))

You were at your desk, deep in teacher mode. Grading assignments, updating the grade book, the usual rhythm of a productive day.

You glanced up and saw your students working quietly for once, either reading the latest chapter you’d assigned or scribbling their thoughts in journals. It was that rare magical moment every teacher silently prays for: peace.

Naturally, it didn’t last.

There was a knock at the door.

Every single head turned in unison. Including yours.

“Hello.” A familiar voice said, soft and polite, peeking into the room like he wasn’t about to cause utter chaos.

Spencer.

Your brilliant, shy, awkward boyfriend. Standing in your classroom.

You blinked, stunned. “What are you doing here?” You asked, smiling like this was the best little surprise.

“Someone.” He said, raising a brow and holding your bag up. “Forgot their lunch at home.”

You walked over to meet him halfway, shaking your head. “Wow, I didn’t even realize.”

His hand instinctively went to your waist as he handed you your lunch, you turned to face your students, you immediately regretted it.

Half of them were staring blankly. The other half wore smug little smirks, the kind you’ve seen way too many times this year.

You sighed, already sensing the storm brewing. “Everyone, this is Spencer.” You introduced him. He gave an awkward wave and shy smile, very much regretting every life choice that led him to this moment.

“Hi.” Came a chorus of teenage politeness, which was immediately shattered by

“Is that your husband?” Silas blurted. Of course it was Silas.

You chuckled. “No, not my husband.”

“Fiancé?” Someone else chimed in.

“Boyfriend.” Spencer said, trying to sound casual.

“Oooh!” “Awws” “no way” erupted from every direction.

Mia raised an eyebrow. “You have a boyfriend? Why didn’t you tell us? We thought you were lonely!”

You blinked. “I-well- I didn’t think you needed to know about my personal life.”

“Why? We always tell you about ours.”

You stared at them. “That’s…true, unfortunately.”

“I always thought you and the basketball coach would be cute.” Someone tossed out.

Spencer’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

You stepped in. “Okay! That’s enough. You’re scaring him”

The class laughed, clearly delighted.

You turned back to Spencer, lowering your voice. “Thanks for this. Lunch is in fifteen, have time?”

He smiled. “For you? Always.”

You motioned to the chair near your desk, and he sat, awkward but trying. You returned to your seat, praying your students would go back to their journals.

Nope.

Olivia’s hand shot up.

“Yes? Olivia?”

“Why is your boyfriend dressed like he’s coming from a funeral?”

You choked back a laugh, Spencer blinked at you, betrayed.

“Well.” You said sweetly. “Spencer?”

He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “Uh…my job?”

“What do you do?”

“I’m with the FBI.” He said, a little more confidently. “Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

“Boring.” Someone muttered.

Your head snapped up. “Hey! Be nice. His job is actually super important.” You say going to your sweet lovely boyfriend’s defense because only you can pick on him.

“Yeah, shut up. Let him talk.” Silas said.

You raised a brow. “Appreciate the support, not the tone.”

Spencer smiled faintly. “What we do is analyze criminal behavior to help catch criminals. It’s called profiling.”

“It’s like psychology.” You added. “It’s really cool.”

“So you predict what people do? Do me!” Ethan asked.

“Uh…it doesn’t quite work like that.” Spencer replied.

Ethan sighed, immediately unimpressed.

“So you get to catch criminals?” Mia asked.

“Yeah. We do.” Spencer said, nodding.

“Cool.” Silas grinned. “Do you see crime scenes? Are they gross?”

“Very.” Spencer said.

And now they were really invested.

“What’s the worst you’ve ever seen?” Someone asked

Spencer opened his mouth.

“Nope!” You interrupted. “Do not answer that.” The class groaned. “Sorry, guys.”

“How long have you guys been together?” Mia asked.

You hesitated. “Four years. Now get back to work.”

“Four years and no ring? That’s sad.” Silas said. Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“Are you guys scared of marriage or something?” Olivia teased. You and Spencer both looked equally offended.

“No.” You said crossing your arms. “We’re just…comfortable.” Spencer nodded. “We’re happy where we are. Right?” He asked, his head snapping to you for confirmation.

You smiled. “Right.”

“Well, if my boyfriend didn’t propose after four years, I’d dump him.” Mia declared. You shook your head. “When did this classroom turn into a relationship panel?”

“Yeah.” Spencer added. “How old are you guys? Fourteen? Fifteen?”

The room broke into laughter.

Finally, the bell rang. “Thank god.” You muttered, watching them pack up.

A few waved at Spencer, others giggled as they walked past. And then Olivia stopped right next to him.

“She’s a lovely woman. You should really put a ring on her finger.”

Then she was gone.

Spencer turned to you, you were already laughing.

“She’s not wrong.” You said making your way to him, grabbing his hand. “I am pretty lovely.”

“I am never stepping foot in this classroom again.” He said. “That was more stressful than interrogating a serial killer.”

“Oh, come on. I think they liked you.”

“Really? Because that comment about the basketball couch felt very personal.”

You laughed and nudged him. “You’re focused on the wrong thing.”

“What should I be focusing on?”

“Marrying me.”

He paused, then smiled. “Noted.”

You walked toward your classroom door, twisting the lock. Spencer was still by your desk, looking mildly traumatized.

“Are you okay?” You asked, trying not to laugh.

“I’ve been shot at less aggressively than I was questioned in here.” He replied, deadpan. “And I sensed one of your students wanting to fight me. I saw the glint in their eyes.”

You laughed. “Well, you held your own. I’m proud of you.”

You moved a chair next to Spencer, and took a seat, unwrapping your sandwich. He watched you for a second, then leaned in with a smile.

“So…four years no ring?” He said, repeating Silas’ line like he was testing it out loud.

You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t you start.”

“Hey, I’m just saying. The experts have spoken. We’re on thin ice.”

“You’re right, should I just elope with the basketball coach?”

Spencer gave a dramatic gasp. “I knew it.”

You nodded. “He is tall, and charming.”

“Wow. Okay, now I am scared.”

You smiled, nudging your foot against his. “You know I don’t need a ring to feel secure with you, right?”

“I know.” He said softly, reaching out to brush your hand. “But also…I don’t not want to marry you someday.”

Your heart did a flip. You tried to play it cool, like your knees didn’t suddenly feel like jello.

“Yeah?” You asked, voice softer.

He nodded. “Yeah. Just…not because Olivia told me to. Although she is very convincing.”

“She is. Probably runs the underground student government.”

“Definitely. But I’ve thought about it before. And I want to do it the right way. You’d deserve something…meaningful. Not pressured by a bunch of freshman armed with sass and curiosity.”

You grinned. “I do love something meaningful.”

He leaned in slightly, teasing. “So…no courthouse wedding tomorrow after work?”

You thought about it. “Only if we go matching in some ridiculous couples costume.”

“That actually sounds incredible.”

You both laughed, the weight of the moment balanced by the natural ease between you. You leaned your head on his shoulder and exhaled.

“I liked seeing you here.” You murmured. “Even if they grilled you like a suspect.”

He chuckled. “Next time, I’m bringing backup. Maybe Morgan.”

“Oh please, if Morgan walked in here, half the girls would faint.”

He smiled, agreeing with you.

You then grabbed his hand. “Thank you for bringing my lunch.”

“Anytime. Next time I’ll bring a ring, just to keep them happy.”

You lifted your head. “If you propose in my classroom, I will throw a dry erase marker at you.”

“Romantic.” He whispered, his smile never leaving his face, you looked at him, and he kissed your forehead.

“I love you.”

“I love you most.”

SO ADORABLE WTH

- Tag List ~

@alastorssimp @sleepysongbirdsings @khxna

This was sooo cute

theoretical knowledge vs. practical application ☆ spencer reid

summary: spencer studies intimacy like any other subject, but nothing prepares him for the reality of being with you. in your arms, he finally learns that some things can’t be understood- only experienced. pairing: inexperienced!spencer reid x reader warnings: fluff galore, lots of kissing (practically making out), intimacy, but no explicit sexual content! wc: 1.1k masterlist. a/n: this brilliant idea came from my very lovely moot @/jackiesistired over on twitter <33

Spencer had read five books about kissing.

Not just any books, no. They were scientific, psychology-based books that broke down the act of kissing into its most basic neurological, physiological, and psychological components. He’d also skipped numerous peer-reviewed journal articles, and, at some point, had managed to venture into less scientific territory- modern dating guides that made his skin crawl but ultimately did provide insight into what people expected in relationships.

And then, there was the… other research.

The kind that led to him sitting in front of his laptop at 3 a.m., his ears burning as he read about intimacy in ways he hadn’t yet experienced. He took notes. Intricate organized, handwritten notes in which he annotated his key findings, storing them away like highly classified information.

But all of it- all of the extensive research- meant absolutely nothing the moment your lips crashed against his.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

You and Spencer had been dating for a few months now, and while things had been progressing steadily, he hadn’t made any major moves beyond gentle, lingering kisses and hesitant, shaky touches. 

He was shy about it- not because he didn’t want you to know, but because he was terrified of messing up. He’d told you early on about his utter lack of experience, and you had reassured him earnestly that there was no pressure.

But he wanted more. He wanted to touch you the way you touched him. He wanted to kiss you until you were both breathless, and he wanted to see if reality could really live up to things he had spent so long reading about. He wanted to know if he was capable of making you feel good.

Most of all, he desperately wanted to stop overthinking.

Which is how he found himself here.

Spencer hadn’t realised just how sensitive he was until he was beneath your hands, beneath your lips, and was trying (and failing) to stay coherent.

You had started slow and gentle, kissing him with a sweet, lingering tenderness, but the moment he responded- the moment he made the quiet, needy sound in the back of his throat- you deepened it. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure if he could survive this.

Your fingers tangled in his curls, tugging softly, and the delicious whine that escaped him was so involuntary, so desperate, that you felt him tense in embarrassment.

You pulled back just enough to whisper against his lips, “Don’t hold back.”

His breath hitched. His head spun as his grip on your waist tightened, unsure whether to pull you closer until there was no air between you or to push you away before he completely unraveled under your touch.

“I- I don’t-” He swallowed harshly as your lips gently brushed across his jaw. “I didn’t know I was this-”

“Sensitive?” you supplied graciously, dragging your lips down his neck.

Spencer shuddered. “Y-yeah,” he admitted, voice wrecked already.

You smiled against his soft skin. “I like it.”

He let out a ragged breath, his eyes fluttering shut as you pressed kisses down the column of his throat. “I- I think I do too.”

You laughed softly as you trailed lower, and Spencer actually whimpered.

You’d never heard a sound quite like that from him before- so high and desperate- a noise that he clearly hadn’t intended to make. His whole body twitched beneath your teasing touch, and he was gripping the couch cushions like they were his sole tether to reality. 

“Oh, God-” His voice cracked as your teeth grazed over his pulse point, his hips shifting instinctively beneath you.

He inhaled sharply as you went back up and pressed a kiss just beneath his jaw. Suddenly, his brain kicked into overdrive. "Did you know that the skin along the neck has an increased concentration of sensory receptors? It’s why-" His words cut off with a sharp inhale when your lips gently caressed the skin where his neck met his shoulder.

"Why what?" you teased, brushing your lips lightly over his neck.

"Why- it’s- um- " His breath hitched. "It’s a- an erogenous zone- highly sensitive- oh-" 

"You were saying?" you murmured, dragging your lips up the column of his throat.    

"I-" He tried again, but when you nipped lightly at his jaw, his thoughts crumbled.    

You pulled back to take in the sight of him. He was flushed, panting, his pupils blown wide with something akin to pleading.

“Spencer,” you murmured, running your fingers through his tousled curls, reveling in how he leaned into your touch like he was starving for it.

He looked up at you in a daze, his lips parted like he was trying to form words, but he failed to find them.

“I-” He swallowed hard. “I did research on this.”

You tilted your head slightly and bit your lip, amused. “Uh-huh?”

“Very extensive research,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “A lot of it.”

“And what did your research tell you?” You hummed softly as you trailed your fingers lightly down his chest.

He inhaled sharply as he tried not to react to your touch. “That, uh- physical contact increases oxytocin, which promotes bonding, and- oh-” His voice broke when you pressed a kiss just below his ear, his whole body trembling beneath yours.

You grinned. “Go on, Spencer.”

“I- I-” His fingers clenched at your hips as you shifted, his breath stuttering. “Oh, my God-”

You kissed him again, slow and deep, and he let out the softest moan against your lips, feeling utterly helpless.

His hands trembled where they held you, like he was overwhelmed and he didn’t know where to move them. Like he was afraid that if he moved too much, or breathed too much, he might just lose control completely.

“You are adorable,” you whispered against his lips, dragging your nails lightly down his back.

He exhaled shakily. "I- um- "

Your smile softened, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Let’s practice more.”

Spencer’s hands tightened on your waist, and for once, he didn’t overthink.

He just felt.

And it was so much better than anything he had ever read.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

Later, when you were curled up against him, fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest, he let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh.

You lifted your head. “What?”

He shook his head, cheeks still tinged pink. “I spent weeks preparing. Studying. Making sure I knew everything I could possibly know. And yet…” He looked down at you, still dazed. “Nothing I read could have prepared me for you.”

You smiled, pressing a lingering kiss to his jaw.

“That’s because,” you murmured, “some things you just have to experience.”

Spencer exhaled shakily, pulling you closer.

“Then I think I still have a lot to learn.”

You grinned, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. “Good thing I loved teaching you.”

And when you kissed him again, he decided that practical application was his new favorite subject.

𓊆 . ໋ 𝜗ৎ DEREK MORGAN & FOX! READER ˚ ୭ . ⊹ ۫

au work content, female! readers race not specified, dark content ( BAU content ), some nsfw content.

DEREK MORGAN & FOX! READER who had only been together for a couple months before his colleagues were sniffing at his clothes and giving each other knowing looks. of course, the looks don’t go missed by derek himself but he simply chooses to ignore them and let your smell cling to his shirt for the next couple weeks.

DEREK MORGAN who fully intended on keeping you to himself for a while—not out of shame, never that—he’s just not quite ready to give up the privacy of having his little secret yet. he intended on leaving it at small teasing and “needing to meet the misses soon.” a couple of grins, some smooth diversions—that had been enough. until one day, on the plane.

their places were already assigned by hotch, and there had been maybe two seconds of silence before emily broke it. “m’ just gonna ask what everyone’s been wondering—who’s the vampire?” emily teases, pointing at derek’s neck, her eyes bright with mischief. derek’s brow furrows until he mirrors her motion, his fingers brushing over the faint mark on his neck. then he remembers you—the way you’d smiled at him that morning, kissed him soft and sleepy before leaving him with a playful nip—and his mouth stretches into a wide, satisfied grin.

everyone is watching now, waiting. “none of your business. focus on the case,” derek says, his voice low and pointed. they all groan in unison. “ohh,” emily sings, eyes wide with mock scandal. “okay, mr. hit-it-and-quit-it.”

derek’s head snaps toward her, offended. “for the record, i am not hitting and quitting.” he points a finger at her. “It’s more of a hitting it and keeping it.” he gestures to spencer. “tell ’em, spence.” spencer immediately stiffens, wide-eyed. he looks at emily, caught. she’d had been interrogating him about for months. “i— i just found out like two days ago!”

emily’s mouth drops open. “so you did know!” she laughs, tossing a napkin at him. spencer looks down at it like it’s betrayed him. “wait, so you’ve seen her?” jj asks, shifting forward in her seat, suddenly a little too invested. derek’s eyes narrow. “hey—”

“you’re always worrying about who we’re interested in,” jj shrugs, shifting the file in her hand. “she’s got a point,” rossi chimes in with a shrug. “hey!” derek’s tone is all faux-offense, but his grin is sharp. “alright, alright, let’s stop harassing morgan and focus,” hotch’s voice cuts through the playful noise, his tone completely contrasting his slight grin.

“thank you,” derek sighs, settling deeper into his seat. but the low sound of soft laughs and teasing smiles linger.

DEREK MORGAN who is more than a little selfish about you even though he has no real reason to be. maybe because you have nothing to do with the BAU—and he likes it that way—or even though you don’t, you’re always keeping him on his toes and very much entertained. you make him work for it without even realizing you are, and derek? he wouldn’t have it any other way.

FOX! READER who always gives derek the illusion of control. he’s used to chasing—thrives off it—and the fact that you don’t even seem to notice you’re being chased just makes him want you more. you’re the sweetest to everyone on the team—always polite, always warm—but with derek, you’re different. you give him a hard time, whether on purpose or not, and derek loving this is an understatement—he adores it. he lives for the playful push-pull, the teasing edge you give him. and when he needs it—when the weight of the day is sitting too heavy on his shoulders—you don’t hesitate to be soft for him. no teasing, no resistance. just quiet warmth and your touch, grounding him instantly.

FOX! READER walks with grace in every step, always in loafers or thick-heeled shoes that click against the floor with quiet confidence. derek’s eyes track you every time. he adores your legs—always finding an excuse to slide his hand along your thigh, or press his mouth to the back of your knee when you’re curled up together. he’s obsessed with the necklace you always wear—the delicate chain resting just above the neckline of whatever low-cut shirt you’ve chosen—and he’ll trace his thumb over it absently as he kisses your throat, lazy and lingering. you’re quietly confident, showing it in the way you move and the way you speak—not cocky, just assured.

FOX! READER who lets derek carry all the jealousy on his own because you almost have none. you know where his loyalty stands and you’re sure no one’s taking derek from you. sure, you might give a hard glance to someone who’s getting a little too close, but you don’t need to say anything. derek handles it.

“thought she was gonna kiss you if you moved over an inch,” you say, amused as you lean back in your seat, eyes sharp. derek’s mouth twitches. comically, he shifts a little closer, arm resting along the back of your chair. “do I get a kiss?” you raise an eyebrow, lazy smile playing on your face. “sure you don’t want to try her first?” derek’s eyes darken, his hand sliding to your thigh. “i’m damn sure.” and of course, you give him that kiss.

work goes here . . will be filled soon!

asks are open for these two! read guidelines before submitting or i’ll just delete you’re ask lol.

I love Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia

can i request a derek fic where readers also in BAU and they’re married and everytime someone says “morgan” both her and derek turn around or show up and the teams figuring out how to differentiate the morgan’s and dereks just all smug like “yeah she’s MY wife”

i love you’re writing btw!!!🩷

"Morgan?" Penelope calls from the kitchen, "You're scheduled for a retake of your ID photo today at 12!"

The responses she gets are a, 'What?' from you, and a, 'What'd you say?' from your husband. You blink bewilderedly at him, and relish the way that his grin lights up the room between you, like a sunbeam shot into your chest.

"Oh, not you," Penelope huffs, peering over the open door of the fridge to glance between you two, "I meant the pretty one!"

"That doesn't narrow it down, babygirl," Derek raises an amused brow at her, drumming his pen on the wood surface of his desk, "You talking to me or my wife?"

"Your wife!" Penelope all but snaps, "Derek, your ego is so inflated."

"It's your fault," You tease Penelope, who withdraws from the fridge with a can of soda and a slightly guilty expression on her face, "I seem to remember you answering just about a thousand of his phone calls with, 'Ahoy there, sexy'."

"Stop," She pleads regretfully, cracking the tab on her soda can with more force than she needs to, "Don't- stop! I didn't know you two were- were hitched! -were canoodling! I never would have talked about his abs if I'd known he was taken."

"It's okay," You promise her, and you really mean it, because you know for all of their sex-crazed banter, they're friends to the highest degree, and Derek is faithful to you. "Penelope, if it weren't for you, he wouldn't know how to paint nails."

"It's true," Derek nods, grabbing your hand to showcase the baby blue color he'd applied for you just yesterday, "You're my personal trainer, P.G."

She surrenders with a sigh, and you're glad that she seems to not harbor any real guilt, because you'd hate for her to be burdened with it. She leans in to peer at your hand Derek has on display, and when she looks closely at your ring finger, her nose scrunches in a grimace.

"You got it on her cuticles, Derek," She chides, disapproval apparent in her tone that makes your chest shake in a gleeful laugh, "Have I taught you nothing?"

I LOVE jealous Spencer

ummm can i request jealous spencer? like reader has a boyfriend or spencer thinks she has a boyfriend and he gets all pouty. and then ... soft confession/kisses :)

feel free to ignore if it's not your cup of tea!

btw my criminal minds themed blog is @sweetheartspence !! but alas i cannot send asks from a side blog </3

thank u in advance! hope u have a wonderful day/night

Oh! This is definitely my cup of tea I love love love jealous Spencer 😋

BYR(b4 u Reid): Jealous & mean Spencer Reid :0, teasing, and a bit of fluff toward the end, along w a cute little kiss scene hehe

Jealousy | Spencer Reid

It had been a week. A week since Spencer started noticing the shift in your behavior.

You were… happier. Lighter. More willing to do things for your coworkers than before.

Staying late without complaint, grabbing an extra coffee for someone, taking an extra file without the usual dramatic sigh.

You used to roll your eyes when Morgan pawned off paperwork on you, now you just did it. No protest. No banter.

And then there were the little changes. The way you started painting your nails, the extra time you took with your makeup.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d assume someone was catching your attention, and truthfully he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“Hey.” He called, catching you before you could leave the bullpen. “There’s a movie playing tonight, it’s based in the fifties, and about a serial killer who’d eat his victims. It’s supposed to be really good. Want to come with me?”

You hesitated, shifting on your feet. “Aw, Spence, that does sound fun, but I can’t. I’m busy.”

“Oh.” His fingers curled around the strap of his bag, grip tightening. “No, that’s fine. What are you doing?” He asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

“Just… something with a friend.” You said vaguely, offering him a small smile.

A friend.

He nodded, forcing a smile. “Nice. Okay. Maybe next time.”

“Yeah.” You agreed before walking away, leaving him standing there.

And it wasn’t just him noticing the change anymore, it was the whole team.

The way you were always texting, checking your phone like you were waiting for something. For someone.

Morgan noticed first, of course.

“Someone seems pretty occupied.” His voice was laced with amusement as he watched your fingers fly over your screen.

You glanced up, blinking. “Yeah, sorry.” You muttered, locking your phone and setting it down.

“Important stuff?” Spencer asks, trying to sound casual.

You shook your head. “No not important at all.”

Morgan snorted. “Right.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“Nothing.” He said, smirking as he leaned back in his seat.

You didn’t buy it, but you let it go, getting up from your spot on the jet and heading toward the restroom.

The second you were gone, Morgan turned toward Spencer, grinning. “That girl is definitely hiding something.”

Spencer’s head snapped to Derek. “Yeah? Like what?” His brows raised, eyes wide.

Morgan’s smirk only grew more. “Woah. Eager, aren’t you, pretty boy?”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “I’m just curious. Does it seem like she’s acting different? Like… someone is causing her to be like this?”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re worried.”

“Worried?” Spencer scoffed. “About what?”

“That she might be seeing someone.”

Spencer sat up straighter. “I’m not worried.” He said quickly, too quickly. “Just curious. She’s my friend. Don’t you want to know?”

“Yeah, but only because I’m nosey. You, on the other hand…” Morgan tilted his head. “You want to know because you’re scared of losing her.”

Spencer’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Losing her? How would I lose her?”

Morgan shrugged, still grinning. “No more movie nights, no more friendly dinners, and definitely no more sleepovers. Your girl is gonna be busy with someone else.”

Spencer exhaled sharply, looking away. “She’s just my friend.”

Morgan let out a low chuckle. “Sure, pretty boy. Keep telling yourself that.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Lunch with Spencer had become a routine, quiet escape from the chaos of the BAU. Your usual spot, the same table by the window. Everything felt the same, except Spencer.

He was distracted. Off.

He couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in his gut, the one that told him something was going on with you. Something you weren’t telling him. The past week had been filled with too many smiles at your phone, to many whispered conversations with the girls, and too many times you’d turn him down.

So he had to pry a little bit.

“So, uh…how’s everything been?” He tried to keep his voice even, but there was a nervous edge to it.

You furrowed your brows. “How’s what been?”

“Uh, life?”

You smiled, stirring your drink absentmindedly. “Oh, good. Nothing much outside of work. Just busy.” You paused. “Why?”

Spencer shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Just wondering if anything has changed in your life.”

You eyed him for a second, suspicious. “Oh…okay. Well no. Not really. You?”

“No. The same. Work and home. That’s about it.”

“Nice.” You said simply

There was a beat of silence before Spencer tried again. “Can I come over tonight? I’ve been wanting to play this new game I got.”

You hesitated, glancing away. “Oh, my house? It’s kind of a mess. Maybe we can do it at yours instead?”

His grip on his fork tightened. A mess? That was the excuse? Since when did you care if he saw your place like that? Unless… you were hiding something? Someone?

Had the person you were seeing already moved in?

The thought sent a sharp, unwelcoming sting through his chest.

“Yes.” He said, a little too quickly. “My house is good. Is eight okay with you?”

You nodded, smiling. “Perfect.”

Then your phone buzzed, and before he could say anything else, you grabbed it. You didn’t just check it, you smiled at it. A real, genuine smile.

Spencer bit the inside of his cheek.

Something burned in his stomach. Jealously.

It was stupid. Irrational. He had not right to be upset. You weren’t his.

But he was upset.

“We should go back now.” He said abruptly.

You glanced at the time. “We still have some time, though.”

He clears his throat. “I’m not really feeling good.”

Your brows knit tighter in concern. “Oh. Okay.”

You don’t question it. And that made him feel worse.

Back at the office, he watched as you practically sprinted to JJ, Emily, and Penelope. The four of you huddled together, whispering, giggling.

Spencer tried to listen, straining to hear past the office noise, but all he caught were Penelope’s dramatic gasps and high-pitched “oh my gods.”

And then-

“We need to meet him.” JJ says.

Spencer could’ve fainted right there.

Meet who?

Why did they get to know, and he didn’t? He thought you were closer than that.

“Maybe Friday night?” You suggested. “We can all get together. He’d love to meet the team.”

Spencer’s stomach twisted. He.

Who the hell was he?

He felt sick.

But no one noticed the way his face fell, the way his fingers dug into his palm as he clenched his fists.

“Yes, Friday!” Penelope clapped her hands excitedly. “I’ll tell the guys! Derek loves a night out at the bar.”

“Alright, I’ll let him know.” You said, smiling at the girls before heading back to your desk.

Spencer, however, turned on his heel and walked straight to the restroom, locking himself in a stall to breathe.

By the end of the workday, he’d barely spoken to you. He wasn’t even sure he could without his feelings slipping out in some pathetic, embarrassing way.

But then you ran into him on your way out.

“Hey.” You greeted, smiling up at him. “Still up for that game?”

Spencer hesitated, shifting on his feet. His emotions were too raw, too tangled. The thought of sitting alone with you tonight, knowing Friday he was probably going to have to come face to face with that guy, made him want to crawl out of his skin.

“I, umm…” he scratched the back of his neck. “I’m still not feeling good. Maybe next time.”

Your face fell slightly, and it made his chest ache. “I can still come over and make you some soup? Or we can watch a movie?”

For a brief second, he melted. Your voice was so soft, so you. Sincere. You cared about him. But then reality him, maybe you were like this with him, too. Maybe you were sending him sweet messages, making him laugh, offering him soup when he wasn’t feeling well.

The thought made his stomach turn.

“Uh, no.” He said, voice flat. “I want to be alone.”

Something flickered across your face, something confused and a little hurt. “Oh. Okay. Well… get better. Let me know if you do want my company. I’d love to stop by.”

Spencer swallows hard. “Yeah.”

Then he turned and walked away before you could see just how much he hated this.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

By Friday everyone had noticed, Spencer was off.

His usual, quiet, awkward charm had been replaced by something sharper, something angry. He was short with everyone, but mostly with you.

“Are you okay, Spencer?” You finally asked, cautiously approaching his desk.

His eyes lifted from the case file in front of him, sharp and unreadable. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You frowned. “You’ve just been…I don’t know. Different.”

Spencer let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Me? Different?” His voice was laced with sarcasm. “Right. I’m different.”

Your brows knit together. “Did I do something?”

“Look, I have a lot of work to do. I need to focus.” His tone was clipped, dismissive.

Morgan appeared behind you, catching enough of the conversation to raise an eyebrow. “Hey man. just chill.”

“I am chill.” Spencer snapped, jaw tight. “Just both of you. Go.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re acting like a child, but fine. I’ll go.”

Morgan watched you walk off before turning back to Spencer with a disbelieving shake of his head. “Man, you’re scaring her off.”

“Why should I care?” Spencer muttered, flipping a page in his file like it didn’t matter. “She’s taken.”

Morgan scoffed. “Because she’s your friend, and she cares about you. You’re treating her like garbage.”

Spencer didn’t answer. Just clenched his jaw and stared at the file like it could somehow fix what was wrong with him.

Morgan sighed. “You’re gonna regret this, kid.” Then he walked off, leaving Spencer alone with the gnawing, unbearable feeling twisting in his gut.

Later, in the break room, Emily found you pouring yourself a coffee.

“Hey! Have you asked Spencer if he’s coming tonight?”

You sighed. “No. Honestly, I’m kind of scared to talk to him right now. He seems off.”

Emily’s lips pressed together. “Yeah, I’ve noticed too.”

“I’ll try again.” You said, exhaling “maybe he just needs time to cool off.”

Emily nodded. “Hope it goes well.”

With your coffee in hand, you made your way back through the bullpen. You passed Spencer’s desk, and once again, found the same hard expression on his face. He didn’t even look at you.

But you weren’t giving up on him.

Two hours later, you decided to try again.

You walked over and casually perched yourself on his desk, something you’d done a hundred times before. But this time, Spencer tensed. Like he wanted you off.

“Hey,” you greeted softly.

His eyes flicked up. “Hey.”

“Are you coming to the bar tonight? I’d love it if you came.”

Spencer swallowed. “I—I don’t know. Bars aren’t really my thing. You know that.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I know, but someone really important is coming, and I’d love for you to meet him.”

Spencer inhaled sharply.

Important. You had to say it like that? Right to his face?

His fingers twitched against his desk. “Yeah, I-I don’t think so.”

You pouted. “Spencer, please. He’s so funny, so cool. The girls already love him, and I know you guys would. He’s such a good guy, you need to meet him.”

His entire body went rigid.

He wanted to snap. He wanted to yell. But instead, he just clenched his jaw so hard it ached.

“No.” His voice was sharp, and final.

You gave him those wide, pleading eyes. “Please?”

He shook his head.

“Alright.” You sighed, standing up. “Well, if you change your mind, it’s at Rudy’s. I really want you there.”

Before leaving, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

His breath hitched.

“I’m here if you need to talk.” You murmured. Then you walked away.

And Spencer ?

He dropped his head into his hands, exhaling sharply.

He felt awful.

Why was he like this? He couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t control his jealousy, the anger, the way his emotions spiraled out of control every time he thought about you with someone else.

And worst of all?

He knew he was hurting you.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The bar was packed, the energy high. Everyone laughed, letting loose after a long exhausting week.

You were happy, smiling, surrounded by your team. But still, you couldn’t help but miss the one person who wasn’t there.

“He’s not coming.” JJ said gently, watching the way your smile faltered.

You sighed. “He hates me. And I don’t even know why.”

JJ shook her head. “He could never hate you. That boy practically worships the ground you walk on.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Then why does it feel like there’s nothing left for us? I should've made a move when things were good. Now it’s like… he's a different person. And I'm scared he doesn't want me.”

“Just give him time.” JJ said, squeezing your shoulder. “He’ll come around.”

You gave her a small smile before heading to the bar, sipping your drink.

Then.

“Can I sit?”

Your head snapped up. And there he was.

Spencer.

Your heart leapt. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming.”

He shrugged, slipping into the seat beside you. “I changed my mind, I guess.”

“Good.” You beamed. “I’m so happy.”

His eyes softened. “Uh, so where’s that guy?”

“Oh, Brian? He’s running a bit late, should be here soon through.”

Spencer exhaled, forcing a nod.

“Come on, let’s sit with the group.”

Before he could process it, you grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the booth where the team sat. His pulse kicked up at the contact.

As soon as the team saw him, a cheer erupted.

“Look who finally decided to have a life!” Penelope teased.

Spencer forced a smile, sliding into the booth beside you.

For awhile, things felt normal. Drinks flowed, conversations bounced between cases, childhood memories, and ridiculous office gossip. It was the kind of night that made you all feel less like FBI agents and more like lifelong friends.

Until.

“So, this guy we’re meeting…” Rossi drawled sipping his whiskey with an amused smile.

Spencer tensed.

You lit up. “Yes! His name is Brian! I’ve told him all about you guys, and he cannot wait to meet all of you.”

Spencer swallowed hard.

“He’s amazing.”

Spencer rolled his eyes before he could stop himself.

Luckily, no one seemed to notice his reaction.

Then, your name was called.

Spencer’s stomach dropped, this was the moment he had to come face to face with his fears.

You turned, your entire face brightening as you ran into the arms of some guy. You hugged him tightly. Held on to him like he was the best part of your night.

Spencer was sick.

“Guys, this is Brian, my best friend.” You introduced him, glancing around the group. But when your eyes landed on Spencer’s empty seat, your heart sank. He was gone. A knot formed in your chest, but you pushed it aside.

The team greeted Brian warmly, and soon, conversation flowed easily. It didn’t take long for everyone to love him, he was energetic, kind, and full of the craziest stories that had the group laughing.

“So, Brian, what made you want to move here?” Emily asked, taking a sip of her drink.

“Well,” Brian grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “This girl right here told me there was a lot of cute guys out here, so I figured, why not? Hot guys and my best friend? Seemed like a no-brainer.”

He smirked, blatantly eyeing Hotch and Derek.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Derek had managed to slip away from the group, and go with Spencer who was at the bar, nursing a drink that seemed like it hadn’t been sipped on.

“Alright, pretty boy. What’s your deal?”

Spencer didn’t even look at him. “I can’t watch her be with him.”

Derek let out a deep sigh, shaking his head. “Look, man, you’re spiraling. You need to go talk to your girl. Seriously.”

“She isn’t my girl, she has a boyfriend.”

Derek rubbed his face like Spencer was exhausting him. “Quit your pouting and go talk to her. Before the night ends.”

Spencer didn’t respond.

Derek groaned and walked off, leaving Spencer with his own miserable thoughts.

He turned toward the booth again, watching you.

You were smiling and having fun but he knew when it was genuine and when it wasn’t, and right now it wasn’t.

A weight settled in his chest.

So he made his choice.

Pushing off the bar, he crossed the room, weaving through the crowd until he was in front of you.

You looked up, surprised, but your expression softened. “Spencer, you’re back.”

His voice was low. “Can we talk?”

You studied his face, concern flickering across your features before you nodded.

Without another word, he took your hand and led you somewhere quieter, somewhere just for the two of you.

You both sat down, the buzz of the teams laughter and music muffled by the distance. There was a silencer between you, not uncomfortable. You didn't say anything. You were waiting... For him.

Spencer was thinking. If the man had steam coming out of his ears, you wouldn't even be surprised.

Finally, his eyes met yours. “I’m sorry.” he said softly.

He gave your hand that was still in his a gentle squeeze, you should've pulled away because truthfully, he didn't deserve to hold it, but you couldn't.

“I’m sorry I was being a-”

“An ass?” you filled in, no hesitation.

His jaw dropped slightly at your bluntness before he sighed in surrender. “Yeah… I deserved that.”

You nodded. “You did.”

Then your voice lowered, a little more vulnerable. “What did I do, Spencer?”

His shoulders sank under the weight of your words, he couldn’t believe he made you feel like it was all your fault. “Nothing. God, you didn’t do anything.” He said. He couldn’t even look at you.

You followed his gaze and it was on Brian, so it all clicked together for you.

“Be honest.” You urged gently.

His eyes flicked to you, guilt written all over his face. “I was jealous.”

“By who?” You asked, already knowing the answer, but needing to hear it from him.

“Brian.” He muttered, looking down at his shoes like they might offer an escape. You tilted your head. “Brian?”

You could’ve teased him. Let him stew a little more, just for the hell of it. But he already looked like he’d been spiraling all week, and the truth was, you didn’t want to see him in pain, not when you cared about him this much.

“Spencer, Brian’s not into me.” You said. His head snapped up. “How?” He asked, baffled. “You’re- you’re perfect.”

You chuckled, shoulders lifting in a little shrug. “I’m not his type.” You glanced toward the booth where Brian was now leaned in, laughing at something Derek was saying. “But I think Derek might be.”

Spencer tracked your gaze, eyes narrowing in that profiler way of his. One second. Two. He blinked.

“Oh.”

The air left his lungs in a rush, like someone had cut the string pulling his jealousy tight.

But then his brows furrowed again. “Then why have you been different lately? Happier. Dressing up. You stopped inviting me over…”

You smirked. “Didn’t know you were paying so much attention, Dr. Reid.”

He flushed.

“Brian and I moved in together. That’s why I’ve been in a better mood, I guess. It’s nice having my best friend from home close. And yeah, I’ve been putting more effort in… but that’s because I’ve been trying to get the attention of this one genius loser I work with.”

Spencer blinked. That trademark genius brain of his clearly went offline.

You rolled your eyes with a grin. “You, Spence. It’s you.”

His lips parted, like the words were there but stuck. “I-I just didn’t want to assume.”

You gave him a playful look. “Right.”

He looked lighter now, like the guilt and confusion he’d been carrying and finally lifted.

“I really like you.” He said, voice more confident now. He leaned in a little. “And I-I want to make everything up to you.”

You raised brow. “Oh yeah? How?”

He smiled nervously. “Can I take you to dinner?”

You nodded slowly, clearly enjoying watching him squirm. “I’d like that…and?”

He bit his lip, thinking. “Movies…and then we can go back to my place and play that game I was telling you about?”

You nodded. “Not bad. It’ll be perfect if you also take on a couple of my files for a month.”

He groaned but smiled. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

Your guys eyes locked on each others, and you weren’t sure who leaned in first. It didn’t matter.

The moment your lips met, it was soft, hesitant, but warm. Then Spencer deepened the kiss, one hand rising to cup your jaw, his other still holding you hand tightly like he couldn’t let go. His tongue slid across your lips, and you let him in.

You guys moved in sync, like you were perfect for each other.

And like this is where you guys were supposed to be.

You kissed until the need for air pulled you apart. Both of you stared, wide-eyed, lips parted.

“I was supposed to be mad at you a little longer.” You teased, he grinned smug. “Can I kiss you again so you won’t?”

You giggled. “Maybe.”

He leaned in again. This kiss was sweeter and gentler like he had gotten all the desperate need for you out with the first kiss. Now, he just wanted to continue feeling your lips on his, even if it was just a peck.

“I can do this all night.” You tell him

“I can too.”

And with that, the two of you stayed wrapped in each other’s company for the rest of the night. The team didn’t interrupt or tease, they simply let you be, giving you the space to enjoy the quiet warmth between you. It was easy, comfortable, like everything had finally fallen into place…

@beeintheskies Hope you love this<3 it was so fun to write, thank you for your request!

Divider from @hyuneskkami

Perfection.

me & you together song.

❛ i’ve been in love with her for ages, and i can’t seem to get it right. ❜

spencer reid x reader.

summary: you’ve always assumed spencer reid’s love language was acts of service. flowers left at your desk. notes written only to you. every tuesday, he gave you your favorite bagel from downtown. you knew he was like this with the rest of the team, too. you didn’t sweat it. you were focused on your job, and your job only. but when multiple instances occur over the course of a case, it’s hard to ignore both of your feelings for each other.

tags: grumpy fem!character x sunshine!spencer reid, friends to lovers, everyone knows but them, the bau literally bets when they’ll get together, no use of y/n, afab character, found family if you squint hard enough, spencer’s obsessed with her but won’t admit it to the public (the public is morgan), based on me & you together song by the 1975 btw, i wrote this while eating a doritos loco taco

word count: 2k

notes: i asked my best friends to give me a character and a trope. happy first post!

When you first landed the job as an agent at the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, you first told yourself not to get too attached. This was a job, after all. A career. A high risk one, that could end in fatalities and wounds that might never heal, cuts that will always bleed for the rest of eternity. Once you made it clear to yourself that you were to be civil with your coworkers —close enough to be friendly, but not enough to go out for drinks on Saturday nights— and most important of all, do your job, and do it damn well, you poured yourself a glass of wine and watched the rest of the season of the sitcom you’ve been meaning to finish.

However, with all of the ups and downs your job gave you, it could not have allowed for you to expect the boisterous chaos that were your coworkers. They welcomed you in not only with open arms, but open minds. They respected your boundaries, your ideas, everything about you. Your attempt at remaining just civil became useless after months, but looking back, how could you have tried any longer? Penelope gave you a big kiss on the cheek every week, exclaiming that she loved your outfits and needed to go shopping with you right that minute. Morgan ruffled your hair whenever he brought you coffee (despite your incessant dismay that now you needed to brush it again). Hotch, though not a fan of public displays, would murmur a reassuring, you’re doing well every time he returned a file back to you. And then there was Reid.

Spencer Reid.

Well, what was there to say about him?

Over time, you’ve assumed that his love language must be acts of service. He brought you a bagel every week, sometimes more, from your favorite bagel shop downtown. Every Tuesday, a poppy seed bagel with extra plain cream cheese, extra toasted, cut in half so you could eat the middle dollop of cream cheese first. He made you mugs of tea whenever it grew past five pm because you told him that you had trouble falling asleep once months ago. Sometimes, small bouquets of wild grown flowers were left on your desk. At first, you thought it was Penelope being extra kind to you, or even Morgan playing a small joke on you. Both denied, but still giggled as you walked away. Whatever that meant. Behind your back, they secretly slipped each other five dollar bills.

You were sure he did the same for the rest of his coworkers, too. You’ve seen him refill coffee pots whenever Emily mentioned starting a new brew, and work extra hard on his reports in his free time to make sure Hotch or JJ didn’t stay too late. You were on the same page, anyway. Friends. Civil. It didn’t matter.

You huffed as you walked into the BAU, which was deemed more of a half jog, half marathon sprint. You hadn’t bothered to check the weather before leaving, and on the walk from the subway station to the office, it had started downpouring. The sudden drops of cold from the sky had caused you to drop your half empty cup of coffee, and you had forgotten to grab the breakfast you made yourself the night before in the fridge. Not even Harry Styles’ album blaring in your ears could have stopped you from turning the morning around. You grumbled simple good morning’s to everyone as you shook off your coat. Expecting to see your desk surrounded with papers that you were too tired to file in their intended drawers yesterday, you instead found a clean one; the papers were stashed in their designated places (in alphabetical order), the pens were compiled in the pouch you bought at Daiso years ago and cherished, even the trash under your desk was taken out. The only thing left to be seen on the wooden desk was a small brown bag that smelled of heaven and happiness and a folded piece of paper. You reached inside to find your usual poppy seed bagel the same as it always was. To make your Tuesday better. For you, always, the note read. You didn’t need to decipher whose scribbles those belonged to. You forgot it was Tuesday.

“Where’s my bagel, lover boy?” Morgan’s voice boomed as the man sat on top of your desk, snatching the bag with a grin. Spencer only swiftly passed by the desk with ease, choosing to make eye contact with the carpet.

“Good morning, Dr. Reid. Happy Tuesday.” Spencer’s eyes divert to yours quickly. He only nods, responding with the same greeting. Happy Tuesday, honey.

Morgan’s laugh carried throughout the room, swinging his legs as he spoke. “You two make me sick, that’s for sure. Can I have some of your bagel?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You furrowed your brow in annoyance, which only made Morgan smile widely.

“Do you need to get your glasses checked again? You know, there’s an optometrist across the street—”

As you started to speak, Hotch walked from his office, announcing a new case and to meet in the room immediately. You got up swiftly, grabbing your bagel from Morgan’s hands with a muttered asshole falling from your lips. It only made Morgan cackle loudly. You remind yourself to write a psych evaluation on Morgan after the case is over with.

On the first day of the case, you realized it was going to be a more difficult one than usual. You didn’t panic. You never do. The second day, you worked harder than ever only to see little to no result. You continued not to sleep. It was like clockwork. Work, coffee, repeat. After three days, the case was far from settled. In fact, it seemed to only be getting worse with no ending in sight. Everyone was continuing to work in hopes that they would be home for the weekend. The fourth day, though, seemed to be the worst. The killer was getting more spontaneous with their kills, and the team seemed to keep showing up minutes after the kill had occurred. You were running on little to no sleep and were getting more frustrated with each move the killer made in silence. Near the end of the day, as you stared aimlessly at the wall in front of you, hoping it would make some sort of answer appear in front of your eyes, Hotch put a hand on your shoulder, You jumped slightly, trance be gone, when he told you to get back to the hotel immediately.

Immediately, you persisted. “I’m fine. I’ve almost got something. I’m sure of something.”

“I’m not asking you.”

“Hotch—”

“I’m ordering you, not only as your boss, but mostly as your friend. Your dark circles are getting concerning.” You tried to budge once more, but as Hotch gave one of his stern glares, you knew you were done with work for the day. “I’ll get someone to drive you back. Wait here.”

Within seconds, Spencer appeared, replacing the previous figure of Hotch. Gently tapping your shoulder, he signaled for you to get up. With a flick of a wrist and a soft grin, he spun around a set of keys around his fingers. “Hotch is letting me drive.”

You smiled. “Don’t want Morgan to ‘vibe it?’”

“His definition of ‘vibing it’ is just turning on the sirens when he doesn’t want to stop at a red light.” You walked side by side to the car. Your shoulders brushed ever so slightly due to Spencer’s hands in his pockets, but you didn’t mind. You welcomed the warmth.

“Your definition is turning the volume up to 13 and calling it loud.”

“I would like to be able to hear when I’m old, thank you very much. Any decibel over eighty and poof. Hearing. Out the window.”

“I really don’t think playing Queen at any volume above 13 will kill you, Spence.”

“You never know, honey.” Spencer opened the door for you, ushering you in before closing the door and getting in on the driver’s side. He pulled a cassette tape from his bag and pushed it in the radio; it started to softly play Queen while Spencer messed with the volume, setting it at 13 before driving away. It made a soft smile appear on your lips as your head leaned against the cool glass. Between the constant, soothing movement of the car or the way Spencer’s lips mouthed the lyrics of Good Old Fashioned Boy, it was hard to tell when the lines blurred and sleep drifted you away. The only thing you recognized before falling asleep were the unmistakable words that left Spencer’s mouth.

“Good night, honey. Love you.”

You woke up with a start the next morning. You had no idea how you got back into your hotel room, or how you were wearing your favorite sports shirt that you find comfort in sleeping in all of these years, though your mind directed each question back to the same person, of course. Your mind wandered to the night before; it was the most relaxed you had been all week, even if it was just the simple act of driving with Spencer. You had done it before in past cases —even driven him back to his hotel at times— but this time felt different. Maybe it was the words that left his mouth.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” Spencer suddenly walked in, holding bags in his arms. He set them down on the table, pulling out various assortments of breakfast foods and handing them to you. “No bagel shops around here, but I did find some good pancakes if you want to eat now.”

“Spence.” You suddenly sat up straight, as if a revelation hit you.

“What? No pancakes? It came with hashbrowns, too.”

“Spencer.” You emphasized, getting him to look at you.

“Yeah?”

“Why do you do all of this for me?”

“What?” His head cocked to the side, not understanding.

“Why do you… I mean… you go out of your way to do things for me. Unnecessary things. I need to know why.”

“Unnecessary…?”

“You… you leave me flowers that are like, hand picked from a garden or the forest, or something not from the city. You clean my desk for me when I’ve left it too messy. You make me my favorite tea when I’m at the office too late. You write me notes that are alluding but you won’t say what. I mean, Spence, you get me my favorite bagel every Tuesday. Why?”

His face suddenly turned serious as he sat next to you on the bed. “You want to know why?” He repeated.

“I know you do these things for the rest of our team, but I just, I just don’t get it.”

“Because I’m in love with you.” Spencer stared at you. “I’ve been in love with you. I think I’ll always be at least a little in love with you, if I’m being honest. I thought you’d catch on by now.”

“…What?”

“Yeah, honey. I thought I was pretty obvious.”

“So you meant what you said last night, then?” You said softly.

“I didn’t mean for you to hear that. Really. I would’ve said it better if I had known you were awake.”

“But I did.” Your face grew closer to his. “And I’m not upset about it. Because I’m in love with you, too.”

Just as your lips began to brush, Spencer began to smile. “You know what day it is, honey? It’s our day.”

You smiled, too. “Happy Tuesday.”

You both tried to be subtle about it for the rest of the case. Weeks had passed by without the team knowing, but one slip up of a kiss on the cheek from Spencer on a Tuesday morning had led to an entire office full of chaos (and a meeting on workplace romance and consent from Hotch). You two didn’t mind, though. It was bound to happen. Until Penelope turned to Morgan and yelled at him to cough up the fifty dollars he owed her, of course.

Happy Tuesday.