#alex blake/reader

[alexblakegf]

can i request an insta post with Alex Blake X reader, married and an eathan lives au maybe?🥰🥰

sorry it has taken me so long to get around to making this

alex blake x reader instagram posts p.t. 4

taglist 🏷️:

@countqss @itisdoctortoyousir @mrsebrewster @kalixxa @fdl305 @venromanova @ah-blossom @geekyandgay98 @eyes-on-display @dj-bynum3718 @waitaminuteashh @daddy-heather-dunbar @hopedoesntknow @momily @multifandomlesbianic @inlovewithjemily @sleepingathlete @voidsaddiction @pagetsgirl @chestnutninny

be added to my tag list here

send in asks or requests here

[arwenlalaith]

Daddy's Sweet Angel

Pairing: Alex Blake/Reader

Summary: Your father invites you out to the bar with his team and you meet Alex Blake for the first time...and are immediately enamoured.

Word Count: 1616

Author's Note: Free Space fill for @cmkinkbingo2024. Requested by @mariskalover88.

“Won’t it be weird?” you asked your dad through the open door to your en-suite bathroom where you were putting on your eye makeup.

“Why would it be weird?” he asked, a note of amusement in his voice. He leaned against the wall outside your bathroom, arms crossed over his chest while he waited with faux-impatience, a small smile of amusement playing about his lips.

You rolled your eyes in the mirror, even though he couldn’t see it. “Because most of them still think of me as a goofy-looking pre-teen with those ridiculous glasses and frizzy hair...” you said pointedly.

“So?” he countered.

You scoffed. “Dad,” you whined, but had nothing with which to back it up.

He just chuckled. “Do what you want, kiddo, but I think you should come...”

________

You couldn’t have said why you ultimately decided to show up that night; maybe it was because you hadn’t seen them in nearly a year while you’d been away at college and you couldn’t help but miss them, many of them like aunts and uncles to you.

Born to Hotch and Haley their senior year of high school, most of your formative years were – in one way or another – tied to the BAU. Derek had been your work-out buddy when you were trying to get on the high school track team. Reid had tutored you through your much-hated calculus class. You’d spent many nights babysitting Henry when Will and JJ wanted to have a date night.

True, they’d all seen you at the worst of your ‘awkward phase’, but they were like family and you missed them. So, you’d given in to your father’s cajoling and showed up...

Reid was the first to spot you as you entered the bar, waving awkwardly from across the crowd. “Hey! Y/N!”

You couldn’t help but smile and offer him a fist bump in greeting once you’d woven your way through the mass of people. “Long time, no see,” you said.

He poured you a beer from the pitcher in the centre of the table (though it was more than half head). “How’s Pepperdine?” he asked.

You shrugged. “It’s a lot of math and physics stuff for now, but anatomy is fun! We get to work with cadavers!” He pulled a face, causing you to laugh. Your attention, though, was quickly diverted by the approach of a face you didn’t recognize.

Reid, following your gaze, was quick to offer up, “That’s Alex Blake – she’s new. Well, not new, I guess, because she worked for the BAU before, but...” He trailed off with an awkward little hand wave. “I can introduce you?” he offered.

You nodded. Perhaps too eagerly...

__________

You waited until your dad was distracted, then grabbed for his phone where it sat forgotten on the table. You knew his password (of course) and were quick to find what you were after, phone returned to its place before anyone could notice your clandestine mission.

You typed out a quick text, then set your phone aside to await the response... You watched as Alex’s eyes alighted on you from where she stood near the bar, awaiting drink refills. You couldn’t quite read her expression as she seemed to vacillate between several different emotions. Then, she spent several long moments typing.

When your phone buzzed, you were quick to read the message.

“How old are you?” you’d asked.

“Old enough to be your mother,” she’d replied.

With a wicked grin, you changed the chat’s theme to Love...and then, you waited.

She caught your gaze, her expression changing to a wicked grin. She quickly typed out another message. “Oh, sweetie, this can be our little secret...”

____________

“You’re fucking soaked, Princess...” Alex husked. “Is this all for me?” She nipped her way down your throat, paused at your clavicle to suck a bruise to the surface of your skin.

You were whimpering and whining and squirming against the wall behind you, surely scratching up your bare back against the bricks. Spreading your legs, you silently begged for her attention where you wanted it the most.

Deliberately ignoring your wordless pleas, Alex continued her quest to mark you up as much as possible. “Does this turn you on? You’re a little exhibitionist slut, hmm? Knowing anyone could walk by – even your father – turns you on? At any moment, he could find out what a little whore Daddy’s Sweet Angel is...”

You gasped sharply as her fingers found your clit through the fabric of your panties. “Alex...” you whined.

She immediately stilled her hand, causing you to whimper pitifully in protest. “You can call me Dr. Blake or you’ll be silent,” she commanded.

“Fuck...” you hissed, eyes falling shut and your head falling back against the wall of the alley. There was something so incredibly arousing about the power dynamic at play and you were willing to do just about anything at all she asked of you, so long as she would continue touching you...

“What was that?” she asked, brow rising.

“Please please touch me, Dr. Blake,” you begged.

She grinned wickedly. “Oh, Princess, you have no idea what you’re in store for...” She offered two fingers to you and you were quick to obediently take them into your mouth, laving them with your tongue – desperate to please her, but also impatient to have her fingers back where you wanted them most.

When she dragged her fingers past your lips upon commanding you to stop, the light of the lone streetlamp casting a dim greasy glow into the otherwise dark alley glinted off the saliva coating her fingers.

Then, she was dragging your panties down your legs to pool around your ankles and her fingers were sliding easily into your soaked cunt, drawing a breathy moan from your throat.

“Is this what you wanted?” she asked, watching you with intensity.

Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you nodded desperately. “Please...” you panted, “Please... I need more.”

She just laughed. “Needy little thing,” she purred. Her thumb found your clit, drawing sloppy circles on it causing your cunt to clench around her fingers. “Hear that?” she asked, then paused so you could hear the sound of your juices squelching with each thrust of her fingers. “You’re so fucking wet for me...”

“All for you,” you said breathlessly, “Fuck... Dr. Blake...” You could barely string two words together, but she seemed to understand all the same and sped up her thrusts.

“Are you going to cum for me, Princess?” she asked. “Cum all over my fingers like the desperate little slut you are?” You nodded, squeezed your eyes shut tight. That earned you a sharp pinch to your inner thigh. “I didn’t say you could do that,” she hissed, “You’ll watch or I stop.”

You pouted a little, but opened your eyes nonetheless, turning your attention to the movements of her hand between your legs.

She proceeded to milk two climaxes from you in quick succession, hand never stilling even as you were sobbed, begged her for mercy. “This is what you wanted,” she taunted, “You’ll take what you’re given and you’ll be fucking grateful, won’t you?”

Nodding, you clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle any further protests that might escape, wanting very much to be a good girl for her.

“That’s what I thought.”

If asked later, you couldn’t have said how long she spent torturing you – switching between leisurely slow strokes and relentless fast-paced thrusts until your thighs were trembling with the effort of keeping you upright. The hand not muffling your increasingly high-pitched keening was scraping for purchase on the brick wall behind you.

What followed was the most intense orgasm you’d ever had, the pressure building inside of you suddenly releasing with a jet of wetness from between your legs. You could scarcely remember how to breathe as your entire body spasmed, your pussy still clenching and it took several moments before you even had the brain power to process what had just happened.

You could almost hear the smirk in Alex’s voice as she purred, “Such a messy little thing...” Pulling her fingers from inside you, your cum dripping off them to stain the pavement below. She brought her fingers to her lips to taste you. “Fuck, you taste so sweet... Have a taste,” she suggested, offering her fingers to you.

Once again, you laved your tongue over her fingers, licking up every last drop of your juices in your eagerness to please her. The combination of affection and lust with which she looked at you nearly had your breath catching in your throat.

Suddenly, self-consciousness washed over you as the wave of endorphins from your climax ebbed. You had no idea what to do now, what Alex was thinking regarding your tryst... You opened your mouth to say something (though you had no idea what), but before you could get any words out, Alex leaned in and kissed you properly for the first time, stealing your breath away.

“You must be starving after that,” she said gently once she pulled away, a small smirk playing about her lips. Eyes wide in surprise, you could do nothing but nod, not sure where she was going with this... Chuckling, she held out a hand, patiently waiting for you to take it in yours.

___________

Later on, when you were falling asleep in her bed, what you would remember most about the evening wasn’t her making you cum in a dirty alley, but her making you laugh ‘til you cried as you sat on the hood of her car, parked at the top of the look-out, eating burgers and drinking milkshakes while you stared up at the night sky.

[cxrrodedcoffin]

me after spending 6 hours reading criminal minds fanfiction instead of sleeping:

[casedclosedbye]

Closer

Spencer reid x reader oneshot fluff

Wc: 1k

Summary: You say across from spencer when you usually sit beside him during dates

It had been a long week for Spencer Reid. The BAU had been running nonstop, cases back-to-back, with barely a moment to breathe. But now, as the weekend arrived, it was time for his favorite part of the week—his date with you.

It was a tradition at this point. Every Friday, you’d both go to that quiet little cafe downtown, the one with the cozy booths and the scent of freshly brewed coffee in the air. Spencer loved those moments. Not for the food—though he did enjoy it—but for the time he got to spend with you, the person he cherished more than anything else in the world.

You had been dating for a while now, and the routine was simple. He would always sit beside you in the booth, his long fingers gently wrapped around yours as he talked about his day. It was always the same, and yet, every time felt like a new adventure in itself, hearing him speak with that curious excitement about the latest case or random facts he’d picked up from his research. It was comforting, familiar, and perfect.

But tonight was different.

You sat down across from him, without thinking much about it. You were still adjusting your jacket when you took your seat, completely unaware of how it made Spencer feel.

At first, he didn’t say anything. He just smiled that warm, shy smile of his, his eyes flickering down at the table before glancing up at you. The conversation began like it always did, about a case he had been working on, but it felt... distant.

The space between you felt strange, like a gap he didn’t know how to bridge.

You didn’t notice anything was off, but Spencer was growing increasingly uncomfortable. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to you; it was that he *did*—he always did—but something felt wrong when you weren’t sitting beside him. He was used to the closeness, the soft weight of your hand in his. He craved it, needed it even.

He tried to focus on his words, explaining a complex case, but his mind kept wandering. He wanted to reach across the table and hold your hand, feel your fingers intertwining with his, but it felt... wrong, in a way. It felt like a boundary had been drawn without him meaning for it to happen.

His leg bounced under the table, a nervous habit he’d developed when he was agitated, but tonight it seemed worse. He looked up at you, seeing the concerned, attentive look in your eyes as you listened to him. You were there, your focus entirely on him, but the physical space between you was heavier than he’d expected.

You tilted your head slightly. “Spence, is everything okay? You seem… a little distracted.”

He blinked, snapping out of his internal spiral. “Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry, I’m fine. Just... thinking.”

There was a beat of silence, and then, without really thinking, you reached for the salt shaker on the table. You were only inches from his hand, but it felt like miles. You didn’t notice the way his eyes followed your movements, how his hand clenched slightly by his side.

“I didn’t realize,” he began, his voice softer than usual, “but... I... um, I usually sit next to you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Spencer shifted in his seat, his fingers tapping against the edge of his glass, and he struggled to find the right words. “I mean, usually, we... sit next to each other. And I just... feel closer to you that way.”

You blinked, the realization dawning on you, and you smiled softly, feeling the tiniest flicker of guilt in your chest. “Oh, Spence. I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about it.”

He shrugged a little, not wanting to make a big deal out of it, but his cheeks flushed just a hint. “It’s okay, it’s just... I didn’t realize how much I missed it until now.” He hesitated, his eyes glancing at your hand, almost like he was afraid to ask. “I guess... I like being close to you. Even if I’m a little... um, well, a bit of a germaphobe, sometimes.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. Spencer’s vulnerability was one of the things you loved most about him. He was so incredibly intelligent, yet sometimes he had this shy, almost childlike way of revealing his true feelings.

Slowly, you slid your chair closer, closing the gap between the two of you, until your knees touched. The simple gesture made Spencer's face brighten, and he relaxed almost immediately, his breath catching in a small, relieved sigh.

“There,” you said softly, your voice low, warm. “Better?”

Spencer looked at you with wide, grateful eyes, his smile blooming like spring after a long winter. “Much better.”

Without another word, you reached across the table, gently taking his hand in yours. The warmth of his skin against yours felt like coming home, and Spencer’s fingers curled around yours with a quiet, satisfied sigh.

“I like this,” he said quietly, looking down at your joined hands.

“Me too,” you agreed, feeling the sense of contentment that only Spencer could give you. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize.”

He shook his head, his smile never faltering. “You don’t have to apologize. I just wanted to be close to you. And... I guess I didn’t know how to ask.”

You squeezed his hand, leaning in just a little closer. “Next time, I’ll make sure to sit next to you.”

Spencer grinned, his eyes twinkling with that familiar spark. “Next time?”

“Yeah,” you said, with a playful glint in your eyes. “I think I could get used to the fact that you’re a little possessive of our personal space.”

Spencer’s laughter filled the space between you, a soft, genuine sound that made your heart swell. It was moments like these that reminded you just how much you adored him. Even in his quirks, even in his need for closeness, Spencer was exactly what you needed.

As the night continued, you both sat side by side, hands firmly entwined, and for once, the world felt like it had stopped moving, just for the two of you.

The space between you was gone, and you were exactly where you were meant to be—close enough.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

CM Friends-with-Benefits Challenge

The following are prompts including friends with benefits/situationships!

This event is over (Masterlist here!), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!

🥰 Song Prompts 🥰

"Sex" by The 1975

"Too Sweet" by Hozier

"dress" by Taylor Swift

"august" by Taylor Swift

"Casual" by Chappell Roan

"Dinner & Diatribes" by Hozier

"Close to You" by Gracie Abrams

“Stuck in the Middle” by Tai Verdes

"Good Luck, Babe!" by Chappell Roan

"I Wanna Be Yours" by Arctic Monkeys

“Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?” by Arctic Monkeys

💌 Dialogue Prompts 💌

“I’m just in it for the snacks.”

“No wonder you’re single…” (joking?)

“So... what’s the stance on cuddling?”

"You deserve something real. I want us to be real.”

“We’re just friends with benefits.” // “Right, and the benefit is being madly in love.” (sarcasm?)

“We’re… friends. With benefits.” // “Without sex? What’s the benefit?” // “My delightful company, asshole.”

"I'm your boyfriend without the benefits." // "Do you want the benefits?" // "Yes—No... I'm your fluffer!" ('New Girl')

“What is up with those two lately?” // “They’re sleeping together.” // “Yeah, right. Imagine… wait, seriously?”

General & NSFW Prompts Below!

🌹 General Prompts 🌹

Someone figures out the situation. A and B try to figure out how.

A is blindsided by jealousy when someone shows an interest in B.

A and B try to be normal so no one knows. Literally everyone knows.

A is so worried about B falling for them that A fails to realize A already fell for B.

A realizes they are happier with B than any actual significant other they’ve had.

A is totally B’s type, which has never worked out before. As a result, A keeps sabotaging things.

A agrees to a situationship with B because they think it's the only way they'll be able to have them.

A reaches out to B for a hookup but gets rejected, and they each struggle with their disappointment.

A is treating the arrangement like a formal business deal. B gets tired of it and shuts them up with a kiss.

A and B used to be friends with benefits. When they meet again later, the arrangement is still appealing.

A has to leave town for a long time. They have one last night with B but don’t tell them. They’re gone in the morning and leave B wondering what they wanted to say the night before.

Anything else you can think of!

💋 NSFW Prompts 💋

A completely defies B’s expectations of what they’re like in bed.

A and B decide to hook up one last time (or maybe not the last...)

A agreed to take B’s virginity as long as B didn’t catch feelings. It seems like B didn’t. A did, though.

A and B's no-judgment rule means they're finally comfortable to ask for what they've always wanted to try in bed.

A is annoyed with B, so they start loudly complaining/joking about their situationship. Angry/playful sex ensues.

A and B have never felt truly satisfied in bed until there were no strings attached... it definitely wasn't because of finding the right partner.

Happy Writing!

[reidswhore]

Imagine the team thinking Spencer is so sweet and innocent, a total virgin and any sexual encounter he would’ve had must have been so vanilla.

Sweet innocent Spencer Reid, who rails you into oblivion every single night, who makes you forget your own name and scream his so loud the entire neighbourhood knows who’s making you feels so fucking good.

[dalamjisung]

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 8: It's a natural progression

genre: will ever write something not angsty?

word count: 6793

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: you and spencer finally give into the tension that's been growing between you, but what happens now?

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

I decided to give you all a pause from Abigail because we're now turning into an Abigail Hater Club HAHAH

This is the third time you’re saying this, but you’ll keep saying it until Spencer hears you. “I am not relocating.”

“Y/N, if she found out where you are, we need you to be somewhere else,” Spencer groans, but you have no mercy on him; not this time. Not after everything. 

His hair is pointing everywhere, surely from the way your stubbornness is making him tug at it like he needs the sting on his scalped to remind him to focus. It’s been almost thirty minutes of you two arguing, and this isn’t exactly the conversation you wanted to have when you first woke up that morning. In fact, you could have lived your entire life without having this conversation and you would probably have been a very, very happy woman. Alas, things never really seem to go your way even when they are going right. And right now, you are far, far away from things going right. 

“I am not going to relocate!” You say again, exasperation getting to you the more he insists. Now, your hands are flying around you and it’s like you two have switched places for a second– while he seems tense and immobile, you are gesticulating like crazy, trying to make a point with your entire body; you are not leaving. “I’m done relocating! I’m done being am active case that doesn’t move on! I’m done being thrown around like a doll! Maybe that’s her end game, Spence– have you thought of that?! That she gets some sort of… of… sadistic satisfaction from seeing me squirm away every single time!” You cry out, brows furrowed in frustration. Nothing is making sense to you, and your anger only grows. Why is he so okay with sending you away like it means nothing to you? Why is he not using that big, beautiful brain of his to find other solutions than just rid of you? “I can’t keep running! I can’t keep stopping my life anymore, Spence, I can’t! I–“ 

An odd sense of coldness comes down on you, like a wave crashing against the walls of your stomach, spreading through your veins, cooling down your stressed out brain. It takes you a little while, but you finally understand. You understand his hesitation, his silence, and you understand it as an answer. “I’ll go home,” You mumble, looking down at your hands. They laid lifeless on your lap, almost like they are now tired from all the talking through them. “Yeah, I– I think that’s the best idea. It’ll be relocating, right? I’ll g back home. You must be tired of me here, anyways, and–“

“Don’t.” 

The ice in his voice startles you enough to have you scoffing. “Excuse me?” 

“Don’t make this about something that it isn’t,” His voice is in that whisper-scream pitch that you’ve heard him using with other people. Never you, though. Spencer never got this aggravated with you before, not even when you kept leaving your tea bags inside your empty mugs until they were dry. This, the way he is talking right now, is beyond annoyance. This is anger. Spence is angry at you and that doesn’t make you feel any better. “I’m trying to keep you safe.” 

“The give up already,” You whisper back, slowly getting up from where you’re sitting. “Because I’m not going anywhere that is not my own apartment across the street.” 

The package is still sitting on his counter, and you hate that you can feel it burning deep in your soul. At first, he didn’t want you looking at it, trying to keep you away, but you don’t like when you Spencer keeps secrets and you just push away his hand that is reaching for you. This sounds a bit insane, now that you think back to it, but when you first see the book cover, so familiar you can quote some of its content, you laugh. It’s a daring move, but an effective one– Kill Me If You Can, by James Patterson and Marshall Karp, is all about the chase. And all about the run. “That fucking bitch,” You whisper to yourself, grabbing the book and opening it to the cover page, where her inscription would obviously be– Dear Y/N, Check-mate. What now? XOXO Cat.

You’ve never hurt a book before, but you have half a mind to rip that one to shreds with your bare hands. 

“No, no, no, you are relocating and that’s the end of it.” 

To Spencer, you are the sweetest of the sweets– sugar pours out of your lips and he had the pleasure to taste it. No way he will risk losing that now, not before he can have a chance to douse himself in them. But every time you cuss, every time you frown, he swears that sugar gets the slightest hint of bitterness, and every time he blushes because of it, every time he lets out a sharp exhale with his eyes fixated on you, he can’t help but wonder how well that bitterness would mix in with your sugar. 

Right now, though, you are about to get downright rotten. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are, Spencer Reid?” His full name sounds wrong when you feel this pissed off. “You’re not my dad!” 

“No, I’m not your dad, I’m your boyfriend, and I’m trying to keep you safe!” This time he screams; he truly, really screams, neck veins popping out and face reddening with the strength of his words. Spencer revels yet another side of himself to you. “I’ve lost enough, okay?! I’ve lost enough… First Maeve, then Gideon, and, a-and, and now you– I can’t lose you! You can’t die, you can’t die on me, and it’s like you keep trying to! You refuse to cooperate, you-you are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met, and you’ll drive me insane! So please, don’t… don’t let me lose you…” 

The way his voice dies out should’ve been enough to get you to quiet down, but tensions are high and now you feel like you’ve just been hit with a brick to the face.

“You’re my what?!” 

This is news to you, though it doesn’t seem to be news to him. You’ve been dreaming of hearing that word slipping from his mouth, you won’t lie, but not like this. Not in a fight, and your first fight at that. 

Spencer seems shocked at your surprise, and you two go quiet for the first time in what feels like hours. 

“Am… Am I not?” You are still in awe of how Spencer can go from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds. A second ago, he looked like he was about to rip his hair out of his head and now he was back tohis normal bright, wide eyes and fidgeting hands. Whiplash isn’t enough to describe how you’re feeling, staring at him with your mouth hanging open, willing for words to come out but failing every single time. “Oh god, I’m not. I’m sorry, I just assumed that after last night we–“

“Wait, stop, stop, stop!” You shriek, hands going up to cover your face. “I need a second to think!”

“No, you don’t, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, just forget everything I said, I just–“

“I might not have an eidetic memory, but I don’t think I can ever forget what you just said,” You breathe out, hands shaking as you pushed your hair back and away from your face. “Spence… you thought we were dating?”

This has him paralysed. “That’s what you want to talk about? Right now? After everything I said?”

“I want to talk about everything,” You do, you really do; but you need to get this out of your chest right now. You need to start clean. “But we need to talk about this first… because I need to know how to act when we get to the rest of it.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Spence, we kissed,” You whisper, hands sliding down your face with a frustrated groan. “And I thought that maybe… I don’t know, I thought we were going somewhere good, you know? Somewhere at all! But then we got to the room and you just pushed me away!” 

“I didn’t want you to feel like you had to do anything you didn’t want to!” Spencer defending himself like this feels like you’re living in an alternate reality. To be honest, even if you had had the chance to talk to him like you initially intended to, you weren’t really sure what you’d do after. It wasn’t a situation in which you could predict an outcome, not when it comes to Spencer– he is too good in hiding form the world. Too good in hiding from you. “Y/N, I swear, that’s all! I wanted more, I always want more when it comes to you but I don’t want to get greedy and scare you off.”

“What about the next morning?” If you don’t sit down, you think your legs will buckle under you. So you sink onto the couch, head on your hands trying to keep you from looking at him with hopeful eyes. Spencer doesn’t want to pressure you and you don’t want to pressure him– and just like that you two fall in a cursed, never-ending dance. In a game where both are in defence, no one wins. One of you has to either take a risk or go home crying. And you’re oh so tired of going home crying… “The next morning you didn’t kiss me or, or, or talked to me! I woke up and you weren’t even in bed!” 

“I wanted to make you breakfast in bed,” This is getting more and more ridiculous by the second. Had you really jumped the gun here? “But when I got out of the shower, you were already freaking out about Abigail!”

“What– But what about after?!”

“After we talked about Abigail, I got a call from work and you were almost pushing me out of the door yourself!” This time around, you don’t ask anymore questions, not when you can see how exasperated Spencer is getting. “You said–” 

“Now is not the time to quote me,” You say as softly as you can. Though sometimes it can sting, having your words thrown back at you, you can’t help but smile every time he does it. The secret is in knowing Spencer isn’t trying to hurt you, but simply attempting to logically solve whatever issue he has to face. What he doesn’t seem to understand though, is that sometimes, the issues of the heart, aren’t logical to begin with. 

“I’m just trying to… I don’t know what I’m trying to do, but this is all a bit misunderstanding,” He shuffles closer to you with that look in his eyes that you’ve seen before in the mirror, your own familiar desperation glaring back at you with that lost, confused glint of what will happen next? “Please, I don’t… I don’t have much experience but I– I don’t want to lose you. Y/N, please… help me.” 

“Spence, what do you mean?” 

“Help me,” He whispers again, worry sketched on his face like it belongs there. His breathing is shallow, and you notice the way his hands wrangle each other in his lap. If anything, he’s trying, and failing, to hide from you for the the first time. As gently as possible, you reach up with a small smile playing on your lips, and you press your thumb to the lines between his brows, soothing them in a back and forth motion. “Help me, I don’t know what to do.” 

The way he chuckles in that coy way he does whenever he feels like he’s out of his league is what pushes you forward, the carefulness of your actions clashing with the eagerness in your kiss. You’ve been waiting for this all day, and everything inside you melts when you feel his hands reaching up hold you close, cradling your face as if you’re the most precious thing he has ever touched. There is a slight shake to them when his lips move over yours and you can’t help but smile, laying your smaller hands over his– I got you, you want to tell him. I’ll help you. 

“Y/N…” His words hit you with a puff of air, lips brushing against each other every time he speaks. If Spencer pulls back an inch, you follow; if you try to put some distance, he follows. The wall between you two that had been shaken before was now completely shattered, bulldozed by his hands sliding down your neck, your sides, tugging on your waist until you’re as close as you can possibly be. Until you’re on his lap, surrounded his arms, overtaken by him and him only. “Don’t go home.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” You promise, laying your head on his shoulder like you’ve done many other times before. “I’m not relocating.” 

“Y/N–” 

“Who’s Maeve?” 

His body tenses underneath you horribly, and you hate that it’s all because of you. “I–“ 

“You don’t have to tell me now if you don’t want to,” You say, pushing his hair away from his panicked eyes. “I just want you to know I heard you. I heard you talking about Maeve and Gideon and me, and I think if we want to start… whatever this is… we need to lay our cards down,” It’s a risky move, if anything. Not only are you asking him about his past, you will also allow him to ask about yours, and that is only fair.

“But what is this?” He asks, eyes sharp on yours while you play with his hair to try and distract yourself from the reality of it all. “What are we?” 

“I mean, you said you were my boyfriend, right?” You don’t want to be the one to make a decision this big, but then again, it shouldn’t be all him.

“Then what are you?” He mumbled, eyes threatening to shut the more your fingers run through his hair. “Are you my girl?” 

A move you don’t really expect from Spencer, but that is welcome nonetheless. The way you two look at each other, like teenagers all giggly about confessing, is equal parts pathetic and hilarious. But it’s the way you two chose to go about it and that is all that matters. Until you remember that this is reality, and you’re not a teenager anymore– there are higher stakes at play here that have to be addressed. There is heartbreak in the end. Pain. Hurt. Fear. That’s what you had before, waiting for you in the end of a very dark tunnel, and you’re scared that’s what will be waiting for you this time around, too. Not because of Spencer, but because of you.

“Joshua McMannon,” You mumble, slowly climbing out of his lap and sitting on the other side of the couch. Like a barrier, you bring your legs up, hugging your knees close to your chest in an action that Spencer will surely read right– separation, space. It happens whenever you talk about Josh, the wave of shame and embarrassment that paralyses you inside-out. The self-loathing. “He was uh, a big shot new player in the stock market, worked for some big firm I forgot the name. We met in a bar, I think. I know this sounds crazy but I blank on a lot of memories that include him, it’s– it’s hard to think back.”

“Y/N–“ 

“No Spence, I can’t ask about you your past without telling you about mine, that’s not how it works,” You say with such a tone of finality that he doesn’t even try to fight you on it. “So please, just… listen to me. The entire thing, because it makes me look dumb and foolish, I know it does, but I want to be honest with you, I don’t want this coming back later to haunt us, okay? So just… don’t judge me to harshly. Please.” 

His silence is enough to encourage you to keep on going. 

“You know a bit about it and there isn’t much more to tell, to be very honest,” There are some undertones of anxiety in your voice, and you know he hears it. You know he wants to move, pull you back to him, comfort you, anything. But he respects the shield you’ve put up and he listens, just like you asked. “He was one of those guys that love the chase, you know? Likes showing off, too, so I was always uh, well dressed and all that jazz. Josh hates when I– no. Sorry. Josh hated when I looked sloppy. He worked hard to play hard, according to him, so he wanted to show things off. Expensive restaurants every day, expensive clubs every night… expensive girlfriend all around.”

“No,” Spencer quickly blurts out one of the many words he’s surely holding in. “No, Y/N, you’re not something to show off, you’re not a thing!” 

“You’re sweet,” You chuckle. “But I was a thing to Josh. Something he owned, remember? And I fell for it, Spence. I was so, so stupid and desperate that I said nothing, I just went along and played into his fantasy until I couldn’t anymore. So I started talking back. Saying ‘no.’ You know what happens next, I guess. You know his type. I didn’t.” 

Gulping, you look down at your hands embarrassedly. Spencer would’ve clocked Josh on the dot. He would’ve known who he was and what he’d do in a second. You, on the other hand, hadn’t been so smart. Probably still aren’t. Probably never will be. It’s hard, not putting yourself down when you’re telling the smartest man you know about such idiotic mistakes.

“Y/N, don’t even think about it,” Spencer hisses and all restraint is gone. He is sliding down the couch to sit close to you, and his hands sneak under your knee and give a gentle tug. He’s trying to respect your need for your own space, but he needs to make sure you’re listening to him. “You’re not dumb. You are not stupid. You are a kind woman with a heart too big for assholes like him, and I won’t have you thinking this was your fault. Sweetheart, this is all his fault. You had nothing to do with that, you… you were just in love.” 

“I wasn’t, though,” You whisper, shaking your head slowly. “I really liked him. Like, a lot. But I didn’t love him.” 

“It doesn’t matter, sweet girl,” He gently put your legs over his, hands holding onto your calves like it’s his lifeline. “There is no scenario in which this is your fault. None. Do you hear me?” 

“I hear you,” You’re not lying– you hear him, you truly do. But believing him is a whole other thing, and you’re not sure if you’re there yet. “I’ve been hearing you, Spence. Every time you explain something new or you tell me some more fun facts, I hear you. It’s just that this time around it’s a little bit harder to process, that’s all.” 

“This is a fact like all the other facts I’ve told you,” With one more pull, you get closer and closer to his body until you can feel the press of those perfect lips against your forehead. “It’s irrefutable– none of this is your fault, angel. None of it.” 

Nodding, you relax onto his hold, head resting on his shoulder when you deliver the final blow. “Him hitting me wasn’t my fault, I know that much. I ran after that. It sounds a bit drastic, but I had never been in the position before and Josh is someone with a lot of influence back in New York. I would have never survived in there and I would’ve been scared all the time.” 

“He touched you?” The way he says it, voice sharp like a knife, makes you look up at him with squinted eyes. “Where?”

“What does it matter?”

“Where did he hurt you?” 

Chuckling, you grab his hand and lean your cheek onto it. “Right here,” You whisper, turning a little to drop a kiss on his palm.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Everything about  him screams comfort, from how his thumb gently caresses your face to the way his lips pull downwards in disscontempt. You know that by now, he’s making a mental note to run Josh’ name through Garcia, but that is something you will deal with later. Despite their good intentions, that is not a door you want to open any time soon. “I–“ 

“You will do nothing about it, Spencer Reid,” You say with as a teasing warning. You don’t know that, but Spencer wonders how can you smile while telling him about such terrible memories; how could you withstand pain so well without telling anyone about it before. “Whatever happened happened and it’s done. I just wanted to be honest and give you the full picture before… we make decisions.” 

“And what do you think this will accomplish, huh? That it will change my mind? Make me regret it?”

“I don’t know Spence,” You groan. “I’m just… trying to be honest.”

“And I appreciate that, Y/N,” This time, he kisses you on the lips, but it’s too fast and too light to satisfy the yearning inside of you. “But nothing will make me change my mind. Much less that asshole. I want you. I’ve wanted you since I met you, I–”

His pause lingers in the air with a something heavy over it. This time, you shuffle on his lap to try and get a better look of his face, legs holding you up on each side of him. It’s such an intimate position to be in, you straddling him with his hands dragging from your waist to your thighs then back up again; your hands playing with the little curls by the nape of his neck; his lips, opening and closing and opening again in what feels like failed attempt after failed attempt to tell you something. 

“I– I think I’ve wanted you since Maeve died.” 

There is a lot to unpack in this sentence, but you keep your expression clean of any reaction. He doesn’t need you gasping and fawning over him… he just needs you to listen.

“And I know it sounds messed up and weird, but like, the metaphorical you, you know? The you you are but disembodied and– and now I’m not making any sense, but I mean it.” 

“I know you meant it,” You whisper, nails gently scrapping his scalp. “It’s okay, you can not make sense, I’ll figure it out. I’m good with puzzles.” 

“You are terrible with puzzles, angel,” He chuckles and your shoulders relax a little. “I’ve seen you trying to put together that Pride and Prejudice poster puzzle… I think you’re just good with me.” 

“Hm, I think so to,” You smile. “Why don’t we start from the beginning then? Tell me your story.” 

Nodding, Spencer tugged you a bit closer and you like it– this tugging habit of his, the need to have you pressed against him winning against his need to keep the germs at bay. In a very simplistic way, it makes you feel special. 

“Maeve… I loved Maeve,” He admits, eyes looking into yours with an insecurity that is misplaced– though you are not above feeling the poke of jealousy down deep in your gut, you are mature enough to know when you are being an absolute idiot, and you smile at him. “I love Maeve, but I am no longer in love with Maeve. I mean, she’s dead, so…” Spencer clears his throat for a second, and when he’s ready– only when he’s ready– he continues. 

There is real pain in his voice as he tells you the entire thing, and there is real pain in your voice as you call him name oh so carefully. The tears in his eyes are few, but they are there, and you thumb them away as gently as you can. In your hands is the shell of the man you know, his words slowing down as his brain surely relieves memories he wishes to delete. 

“Spencer,” You call, his eyes shut so tight you think he might just hurt himself if he continues like this. “Spence, I’m so sorry that happened.” 

“It was my fault,” He whispered as if he is in a confessionary. “Diane Turner. That was the name of the girl that killed her. We were trying to negotiate with her and… and I failed.” 

“Spencer, no,” Oh how the tables have turned. “The girl was going to kill Maeve no matter what, and I’m sorry that it came to this. I’m sorry–“ You can’t even say it, confused with your anger and how it makes your hands shake. 

She blindfolded him. 

She read his letters, his fears, and she made them real. 

That is enough to have you wishing you had shot her yourself. 

“Sweetheart,” He chuckles sadly, bigger hands coming to encage yours in a futile attempt to extinguish your anger. Bringing your knuckles to his lips, he kisses each and every single one of them, and for a moment you think he knows– he knows you’d be someone you’re not, for him. Someone who hurts other people. And you think he’d hate himself if that ever happened. “It was a long time ago…” 

“But it wasn’t your fault…” You move until you embrace him, body covering his like a blanket willing to keep him from the cruel, cruel world around you two. “No matter how long ago it was.”

“I guess that’s just something we both have to learn,” His voice is muffled by your sweater, and you pull back a little. When he offers you his pinky finger, you don’t need any explanation, wrapping yours around it with a giggle. “Something we’ll help each other learn.” 

“It’s a deal,” You whisper, leaning forward and dropping a slow kiss to his lips. “Sealed with a kiss.” 

“Does this mean that now you’re actually my girlfriend?” He asks after a while and you laugh, loud enough to burst the bubble you two created. 

“If you want me to be, yes.”

“I want you to be, in case you haven’t noticed by now,” God, you love when he jokes, the casual tone of his voice making you both relax. “But I also want to be your boyfriend.”

“Hm, you want an awful lot, don’t you?” Pushing his hair back, you smile impossibly wide. “Good think I want a lot, too.” The way he kisses you makes you believe that you truly are the only girl in the world, even if just his world. “Now you have to tell all the guys that hit on you that you are taken.” 

“Spence, what guys?!” You snort, eyes wide when you try to move and sit next to him. He is quick to catch you, though, and place you back on his lap. 

“Just because you don’t notice people flirting with you doesn’t mean they don’t!” 

“Okay, wait a second, I notice–“

“I’ve been flirting with you for months!” He says in that way that makes his voice go a tone higher, his smile so wide and bright that you can’t help but laugh. 

“Maybe you’re bad at flirting?” 

“Even Garcia noticed,” Spencer points out and you groan, knowing that if you admit defeat he will forever gloat. “But that’s okay. We got there in the end.”

“We did… which is why I’m not relocating.” 

“Y/N, this is for your safety.” 

“I’m safer closer to you,” You whisper. “Spence, I won’t be safe with god knows how many strangers surrounding me in a location I have no clue how to navigate. Here, I have you and I’m in a familiar place– I know the closest subway, bus stations, taxi points. I know the owner of the cafe down the street, I know your neighbours, hell, I even have Abigail! Isolating me is not safe. Please.” 

For a moment, you wait. You’re unsure if you got through to him, his eyes looking at you so intently that it’s a little embarrassing. Everyone knows his brain works differently– it works faster, better, more precisely. Whenever Spence zones out like this, it’s not because of lack of attention, but simply because he’s thinking… and what a wonderful thing it is to see him think; to see those theories taking form in his beautiful head, to see those honey coloured eyes working out probabilities that you’d never even get close to understand. He’s a special one, and you love that about him. Because you love him.

And as much as everything between you two is new, this feeling is quite old. 

This growing warmth in your chest, expanding like rivers of gold adoration through your veins. 

It’s not surprising that you love Spencer. 

It’s only natural, considering how much he loves you. 

How you know it? 

“Yeah, okay. I’d feel more comfortable with you here with me, anyways.”

Well, it’s obvious. 

“And you’re right, you know?” He continues, speeding through his words as if he’s trying to convince you and him both. “You know this area well. Cat has managed to get through us easily, and I don’t know what I’d do if she found you and I was the one to send you all alone to strange place where you can’t ask for help…”

“That won’t happen,” You promise, shaking your head at the terrifying thought. “So does that mean I’ll stay here or go home?” 

The reason you enjoy asking Spencer obvious questions is because sometimes, times like this, you get to see his personality shinning like a beacon in a dark night. His sassiness is so refreshing that you can’t help but giggle every time he lets it out. “Don’t be ridiculous,” He mumbled, rolling his eyes like the little know-it-all he is. “You’re obviously staying here. You’re my girlfriend, you’ll stay where I can protect you. Which is also something we have to talk about.” 

“Nooo,” You are so tired of talking about things at this point. “Can’t we talk about it tomorrow? Please, I just want to spend one nice evening with my boyfriend without discussing the fact that his psychopathic stalker wants to kill me.” 

“Y/N, that is not funny!” He gasps when you chuckle. “Sweetheart, I just want you safe. I think it would be important for us to have a plan if someone ever breaks into my apartment, for example. You should know where my gun is and–“

“Woah, woah, woah, no way!” You shriek, climbing off of his lap and standing right in front of him. The though of having to use a gun makes you nauseous. “I don’t want to know where your gun is, and I don’t want to even think about the possibility of having to actually point it at someone!”

“Okay,” Spencer says softly, getting up too and coming to hug you. Despite people thinking that Spencer is not quite adept to human touch, he has gotten quite good at comforting you, knowing exactly how to hold you and how to talk you down of your rising panic. “That’s okay, it’s okay. We’ll talk about it another day, we don’t have to overwhelm you right now, it’s alright, my angel.”

For a moment, the two of you just… stand there, swaying from side to side while he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. “Can we just be normal for a night and watch a movie?” You finally ask, looking up at his smile because right now, that’s the only thing that matters to you– him. 

“Yeah, let’s watch a movie.”

For a few hours, life is perfect. 

For a few hours, you get to kiss him like you’ve been meaning to. Touch him like you’ve been meaning to. You get to run your hands through his unruly hair, pushing it back and feeling its softness slip between your fingers like the finest silk that ever was. He touches you, too, albeit a bit more reservedly. His fingers find the sliver of skin on your hip, thumb caressing back and forth, sending shivers up and down your spine. His lips brushed against your cheeks, your neck, your collarbones.

For a few hours, you laugh and smile and chat. You memorise more fun facts to put on your little notebook later, now secure on the left bedside table, right next to where you lay every night. He tells you how the movie doesn’t make logical sense and how they have physics all wrong. He points at the screen and his voice gets higher and higher with his passion for correcting fiction and you can’t help but shut him up with a languid kiss. 

For a few hours, you two are just a couple. This is just a date. And this are just good.

But the higher you climb, the better it gets, the harder you’ll fall. This might just be what Cat wants– you, in perpetual anxiety, always looking over your shoulder, always scared of losing the little you were able to build in your new life. From what Spence and his team have told you about her, Cat’s main skills are all mental; manipulation, gaslighting, coercing. Is this how you’re going to end? Terrified with ever step you take, antsy at your boyfriend’s house while watching a movie, giving up on your bookshop so that strangers don’t have such an easy access to your life? 

For a few hours, you didn’t have to worry about that. 

For a few hours only… because once the second movie is done, you two are forced to pull apart thanks to the incessant knocking on Spencer’s door. “If this is Abigail again,” Spencer warns as he gets up, lips all swollen from kissing and making out. “I will arrest her.” 

“On what grounds, agent?” You hug a pillow close to you, completely ignorant to your current messy hair and blushed face. 

“Cockblocking,” It’s so rare to hear such a word coming from someone like Spence that you can’t help but burst out laughing. “JJ?”

The name has your smile slipping a little. Why is JJ here? Did something happen? The moment Spencer opens the door, she’s marching inside, her beautiful blonde hair floating in the air as if she is some sort of magical being. “Spence, what the fuck?!” She cried out, completely oblivious to your presence in the couch. “Why are you not picking up your phone? I’ve been calling– Hotch mentioned something about you not taking Y/N to a secondary location, are you insane?! You can’t take care of her all by yourself, she’ll–“

You clear your throat as loud as you can, smiling sadly at her when she turns around with a shocked expression. “Hi, JJ.”

“Y/N, I’m– I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were here…”

“She is,” Spencer suddenly sounds quiet, eyes cast down as if he’s a child who’s been caught red-handed doing something wrong. But then he raises his head, chin high and chest puffing out a little. “And she’ll stay here with me. Y/N doesn’t want to be moved to a secondary location, and considering we don’t know who Cat’s secondary is, I wouldn’t say it’s wise for us to do so. She’ll be alone in an unknown place. I… I would prefer if she’s here. With me. And officer Kaper.”

JJ’s eyes go wide and you can understand her surprise to hear her usually shy and quiet co-worker being so adamant. Hell, even you are a little bit surprised. “What you prefer?! Spence, this is not about what you prefer! This is about– oh my god, you two were making out.” 

Her observation is so dry that you almost choke on air. “What?!” His voice is a dead give away. Or maybe it’s the way you wince, looking away from her, that gives you two away. “JJ, this is none–“ 

“You are having an interpersonal relationship with a victim under our protection in an active case,” It’s the way she describes you as a victim, as if that’s the only thing you are to her, that makes you exhale harshly. “Yes, Spencer, this is my business.” 

“Uhm, technically–“

“Y/N, I’m sorry, but not now,” She speaks to you like a mother, and from what Spence has told you about her, you know that she has two wonderful boys. Two kids for her to mother. You, however, are not one of them. 

Slowly rising up from the couch, your voice is shaky when you speak, but your proud of yourself regardless– confrontation is not your best suit, some might say it’s your worst suit, but there is no escape this time around. Not if you want to stay with Spencer. “I’m sorry, JJ, but yes, now. I’m the one this is all happening to. I’m not a passive participant in all of this and I do get to make choices, even if those choices are against your recommendation. I chose to stay here. Not Spence.”

“Why here? Why not–“

“I know the area!” You basically squeak, frowning deeply at her. The JJ you know is sweet and soft-spoken. This JJ is… well, not that. This JJ is someone who gets the job done. This JJ sees you as a job. And that hurts. “Cat knows you guys, she has shown us again and again that she is one step ahead– look at what happened to Officer Kaper. He has a family! His wife and kids were there and– fuck, JJ, if something happens here, I know where to go! I know where to run to, I know the back alleys, I know the people… I can’t handle you guys taking me away from everything I know again. I can’t, I’m sorry, I just can’t, I–“

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re not going anywhere,” In a second, Spencer is by your side, arms pulling you into his chest. “You’re stay here, sweetheart.” 

“Spence–“

“JJ, do you think I’m stupid?” The question shocks the words out of both of you. “I calculated the odds, okay? I know the risks. I know the pros and cons. But do you know what else I know? I know that when we thought Maeve was safe, her stalker was in her apartment. We put her under protective custody, and Diane still got to her. She could’ve been with me, I could’ve saved her!”

JJ doesn’t speak, and neither do you. You are frozen in place. Spencer had told you about Maeve just hours ago, described the entire thing, told you all the details of what happened back then… but he never touched on the now. On how he feels now. On how he remembers the whole thing now. On how it still affected him now. You can feel the anxiety on the way his breath shudders. The anger in his words, the regret, the fucking guilt As gently as you can, you circle his waist and squeeze. There is a part of you that hates doing this in front of someone else, giving them a part of this reality in which only you and Spencer exist; but he need to know you’re still here. Next to him, where he can keep you safe. “Maeve wasn’t your fault, Spencer,” JJ whispers, and you see in her a glimpse of the woman you’ve met before. “It wasn’t your fault…” 

“But this is!” He shouts back, stopping himself from lurching forward thanks to your body glued to his. Instead, he cradles your head closer, shuts his eyes tights, and let out the most pitiful exhale you’ve ever heard. “This is my fault… Y/N wouldn’t be in this position if it wasn’t for me.” 

“Spence–“ You can’t even deny it. Logically, it is his fault this is happening– Cat is after you simply because she’s after him. That is undeniable, and you lose yourself in the endless search of what to tell him, how to comfort him. This is your Spence. Your boyfriend. And you don’t want this type of phantasmagoric guilt hovering over his head over the course of your relationship. This is how things end before they begin. 

“I won’t let her take Y/N away from me,” When he looks at JJ again, you gasp. His eyes shine with a determination you’ve never seen before, jaw tense and hands holding you to him like he means in. This time around, you know he means is. “Not now, not ever.” 

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[reiderwriter]

reiderwriter 5k writing challenge

hello, my lovelies, and thank you so much for 5k followers~♡ it's been just under a year since I started writing on here, and it's been so fun interacting with everyone and writing for Spencer and the other members of the BAU team! I was a bit unprepared for some of my other milestones and threw some stuff together last minute for them, but I've been thinking about a writing challenge for a while and I finally decided to do it!

Please note: This is a writing challenge! All the prompts below are meant to inspire you to write your own fics and not as prompt requests for me. I hope you can use them as a starting point to write~♡

The theme for the challenge is:

daydreams and shooting stars`☆

There are two sets of prompts to choose from! The daydreams' prompts are based on classic fanfiction tropes that we know and live, and the shooting stars prompts are based on the zodiac signs. There are 12 prompts in each list, and you're welcome to mix and match prompts as you like! Maybe you'd like to combine your star sign with your favourite trope, or two particularly match well, or if you like a single prompt, you can just write for that. I don't mind if the fic is only very loosely based on the prompt, too, do whatever you'd like!

The writing challenge will run up until my 1 year writing anniversary, July 27th, so you have plenty of time to get your fics in! I'll be reblogging all the entries, and at the end, I'll add them to a recommendation list! Be sure to tag @reiderwriter in your fic, or use the hashtag #reidersdaydreams or #reidersshootingstars in your tags! I'll be tracking both~♡ You can submit as many entries as you like!

Rules for submissions will be at the end. Please read them before submitting~♡

without further ado, here are the prompt lists~☆

DAYDREAMS

ONLY ONE BED - a true classic in the sense that I will be reading only one bed fics down to the second I take my last breath. Feel free to invert this to "too many beds," or even "no beds at all, but somehow we're still cuddling," either way, I will read it and likely enjoy it greatly.

GRUMPY X SUNSHINE - which character is grumpy, which character is sunshine? my favourite grumpy x sunshine dynamics are the gloomy character trying their best to become more sunny after a tough life 🫡

FAKE DATING - we, in the criminal minds fandom, have written possibly every undercover mission possible to make our characters make out, but I'm coming in as a simple woman to ask - please do it again 🫶

OH. OH. - the plot revelations! Give me them! The sudden moments of clarity! I'm a fan, goddammit.

IDIOTS IN LOVE - there is nothing better than two huge dumbasses falling head over heels in love with each other in an "aw shucks" kind of way. Also, I'm an idiot, representation matters.

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE - coffee shop AU? Soulmate AU? HANAHAKI AU? If someone could please un- or re- traumatise my favourite characters I will be eternally grateful

SECRET IDENTITY - give the character their Emily Prentiss Lauren Reynolds moment, or just make them dress like a clown for like 30 minutes. Both count.

MUTUAL PINING - This harkens back to idiots in love, but it's about the LONGING, it's about the PITIFUL STARES, it's about the BURNING PASSION.

SECRET RELATIONSHIP - my love of gossip makes me a sucker for secret relationship stories because I truly want to be in everyone's business. Character A and B are dating? Brilliant. It's a secret? BRILLIANT.

SICK FIC - your poor little meow meow has a cold. Or your poor little meow meow has been poisoned with anthrax. Or your poor little meow meow is dealing with possible symptoms of schizophrenia. Or your poor little meow meow has been shot-

PSYCHO X PSYCHO - reidams fans, this one's for you 🥰

ENEMIES TO LOVERS - half of my requests are enemies to lovers requests! Feel free to include rivals to lovers, lovers to enemies, friends to enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, or any such dynamic that your heart desires.

SHOOTING STARS:

Aries - "I burn for you. I can't sleep at night for wanting you. It's the most maddening, beguiling, damnable thing, but there it is."

Taurus - "There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me."

Gemini - "There's such a lot of different Annes in me. I sometimes think that is why I'm such a troublesome person. If I was just the one Anne, it would be ever so much more comfortable, but then it wouldn't be half so interesting."

Cancer - "I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil."

Leo - "There is no exquisite beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion."

Virgo - "They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered."

Libra - "Somehow, we'll find it. The balance between whom we wish to be and whom we need to be. But for now, we simply have to be satisfied with who we are."

Scorpio - "She didn't understand why, but faced with those decaying buildings and straggling grasses, she was nothing but a child who had never lived."

Sagittarius - "If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything."

Capricorn - "There's a low-level, specific pain and having to accept that putting up with you requires a certain generosity of spirit in your loved ones."

Aquarius - "An education was a bit like a communicable sexual disease. It made you unsuitable for a lot of jobs, and then you had the urge to pass it on."

Pisces - "I think it's perfectly acceptable and rather admirable to be moderately delusional."

Rules:

I'm accepting reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fics for this challenge. It can feature any Criminal Minds character or any character from any fandom you write for. I assume a lot of people will stick with CM, but feel free to write for whoever you choose!

Please tag me in your entries or send the link to me in a DM. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge. Again, the tags I'm tracking are #reidersdaydreams and #reidersshootingstars ♡

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I will not endorse, nor do I want to read smut written by minors. I will check the ages of accounts posting smut.

For smut or angst fics that could include triggers, please include a content warning above the fic so we can be aware before reading!!

Enjoy!!

[reidologys]

MEET THE PLASTICS • S. REID

the prettiest poison you've ever seen

summary: getting back from prison, spencer finds out about a certain girl taking over the bau. and this girl was the definition of mean girl. and now, she'd adopted jj and emily, and penelope into her little clique. pairing: spencer reid x fem! reader cw: intro to my mean girls musical series, post prison! reid, no use of y/n, reader has boobs, garcia is 100% gretchen wc: 1.2k

next ➢

WALKING INTO THE BULLPEN should've been normal for spencer. he'd done it everyday for twelve years. but after prison? it felt weird.

he felt like he didn't belong there. he often forgot that doors outside of prison weren't locked. that he could open them himself. spencer forgot he wasn't stuck.

but when he walked into the bullpen for the first time since the bau brought him home, his eyes focused on the desk next to his. it had been unoccupied since morgan left. even with the arrival of both dr. tara lewis and luke alvez. no one had occupied morgan's desk.

and that desk? it was pink. a little compact mirror sat open on the oak wood that wobbled to the left when too much pressure was on it. there were bubble gum pink sticky notes stuck to the computer sitting on top of it.

spencer's eyebrows knitted together while he walked closer to get a better look. a few picture frames rested in the corners of desks. they were pictures of emily, jj, and penelope all smiling. with a girl spencer didn't know at all.

laying beside the compact mirror was a beige claw clip. one of the smaller, rectangular ones. spencer picked it up, holding it in one hand. he couldn't help the compulsion he had to make it chomp the teeth. he set it back down, still observing.

there was a funky candle sitting in the far left corner. it was definitely for decoration because the wick was in perfect condition. it was baby blue. a cube of bubble shaped wax. nothing underneath it. obviously, whoever sat here never intended to light it.

and then he heard it. heels clicking behind him followed by loud giggles and chatter. one set turned into four sets. he turned his hair, the brown curls he'd managed to take care of after prison were pushed back.

you looked at him, stopping in place. jj, emily, and penelope stopped behind her in the points of triangle. your hands rested on your hips.

the smile that pulled the corners of your lips didn't seem genuine. you looked at spencer like he was fresh meat. like he hadn't worked at the bau for over a decade.

"you must be spencer." you stuck your hand out for him to shake. when he didn't grab your hand, the smile left you completely.

"my name is━." you introduced yourself, penelope immediately stepping in front of you to stand next to spencer. she stood on her tip toes to whisper in his ear. "and she is a massive deal, einstine." her voice wasn't quiet.

and it brought a smile back to your lips. but spencer felt a lot of things upon seeing you in real life and not just in a photo frame sitting on your desk.

spencer didn't know what to think about you. you just looked so.. hard to read.

he both feared you and loved you. he was just standing here staring at you. his sized you up, eyes lingering on the open top buttons of the blue and white stripped blouse you had on.

a snicker left your lips while you watched spencer blatantly stare at the top of your chest that the open buttons exposed. "these? these are real, dr. reid." you giggled when his face went red.

spencer attempted to stammer out an apology, but he knew it would only add fuel to your fire.

you had money and looks. completely power drunk. when luke came by and dropped off an iced coffee on your desk, setting it on the pink and white checkered coaster, one thing was obvious to spencer.

this whole bau humped your leg like a chihuahua.

you were the prettiest poison he'd ever seen. those instagram filters girls used to appear a different way? they looked just like you.

but before spencer could say anything to you at all, a different woman came into the bullpen with a stack of papers in her hands. she looked at you with a big smile.

spencer didn't miss the way you looked at the three girls behind you, a roll of your eyes and the cockiest smile on your face.

"agent! i'm valerie nguyen with empower-her press. we tried to contact you after you arrested that killer in memphis yesterday but you.. brushed us off.." the woman rubbed the back of her neck anxiously.

you raised an eyebrow at her. "so you found out where i worked and started to stalk me?" you folded your arms over your chest, a powerful look on your face.

the ginger woman stammered. "no.. i.. we.. can i just-- what's your name, agent?" valerie really was something. she had potential.

but not nearly enough for you to acknowledge.

"my name is━. and i am a massive deal." you repeated penelope's words, causing sweet garcia to fawn over you even more. it felt like unspoken praise. even if it was practically plagiarism. a win was a win to her.

valerie smiled gratefully, scratching that down on a notepad. "again, i'm valerie nguyen if you wanted to use my name in our interview," her cheeks grew pink. "i just feel--"

you cut her off, a sickeningly sweet smile on your face. "i don't care who you are. i don't care how you feel. valerie, if you ever bother me at my oh-so-important job again, i'll get a restraining order against you. a non-verbal yes, isn't consent to interview me, 'kay? buh-bye now." you wiggled your fingers at her while she paled.

"toodles." garcia added behind you, followed by jj and emily saying something as well.

you turned back to spencer, a smile back on your face. "we have a lot to learn about each other, huh, reid?" you grabbed his hand, dismissing your little minions.

while sitting next to you, spencer had learned one thing.

you were a total mean girl. cold, shiny, fake, and plastic.

[storiesofsvu]

Communication Error

Alex Blake x reader warnings: mild language, hurt/comfort kinda, usual BAU type of situations and violence.

The BAU had been in San Antonio for nearly two weeks already, the team had been called in a little earlier than usual but the case was striking right from the start. You’d spent hours droning over case files, evidence, cold cases and every chance you seemed to get at the unsub he was always a step ahead of you. The final straw was when he broke pattern, kidnapping the daughter of his murder victims rather than leaving her at the scene.

Tensions were running high, press, locals and the upper brass all beating down on the BAU to figure things out quickly and safely. You’d been in close quarters all week, there was not a moment to be had to oneself as everyone was bunking with someone else and everyone was on edge. There had been far too little sleep, an overconsumption of caffeine and definitely not enough food.

It was safe to say everything about the situation was escalated.

It didn’t even matter that you happened to be working the case with your girlfriend, you and Alex had barely had a moment of peace and definitely not a moment of privacy since arriving and no one else on the team knew you were together. JJ and Garcia had been sharing a room up until a pipe burst in their bathroom on the first and now all four of you were crammed together in one dingy hotel room. You were ‘forced’ into sharing the same bed but your subconscious spent the entire time you managed to get sleep fighting itself in a reminder that you shouldn’t exactly be cuddling. Unable to properly communicate over the week lead to both of you being on edge and there was no relief of a little hand hold, a tender kiss pressed to the other’s temple in reassurance or soft ‘I love you’s’ in moments of need.

When you finally caught up with the unsub in a warehouse on the outskirts of town everyone was on high alert, vests on, guns at the ready and attempting to make a plan about what was going to go down. Garcia had found a back entrance into the warehouse, one that it seemed the unsub was unaware of and it was certain you would be going in through there to retain the element of surprise. Problem was it was only big enough for one person to finagle their way through.  

“Wilson!” The local swat team leader called out and your head shot up.

“Yes sir?”

“I’m givin’ you the lead with this, you comfortable doing that?”

“Yes sir, of course.” You glanced over to Hotch, watching as his jaw tensed ever so lightly before giving you a once over and a trusting nod.

“Are you sure about that?” Alex suddenly asked and your brow furrowed at her, unsure if she was directing your question to you, Hotch or swat.

“I have complete confidence Wilson can do it.” Hotch replied, “I’d expect everyone on the team to trust my judgment.”

“This unsub is convoluted,” Alex continued, “he twists things around, he’s incredibly hard to read, and according to the profile he’s not afraid to take anyone out to get away.”

“And she knows all that.” Aaron nodded toward you and you returned the gesture while swat continued to fully suit you up.

“I just think that maybe a more experienced member of the team should be going in.” Alex protested and this time your head shot up to hers, a mixture of hurt and offended drawn across your face.

“Excuse me?”

“This guy, he’s duplicitous, he’ll talk riddles around you to draw your attention away from what he’s doing to get the jump on you.”

“Oh, so you’re not just doubting my ability to do my job, now you’re calling me stupid.”

“I think it’s a bad idea.”

“And for every second we stand out here while you berate me we’re wasting time and losing the opportunity to save that girl. I’m suited up, I know what I’m doing and last time I checked I didn’t need your vote of confidence to do my job.”

You glanced towards Hotch who simply stood his ground, nodding to you once again before you turned back to swat to get your ear piece put in and were quickly guided around the building. There was only a beat of silence before Alex spoke up again.

“Hotch I really think this is a bad idea. She’s the newest to the team, she’s barely worked three full cases, there’s been more paperwork than unsubs—”

“Blake.” He cut in, voice stern, “you’re out of line. Wilson has almost four years of hostage negotiation with NYPD under her belt, not only does she have a very good understanding of what she’s doing, she’s the best out of all of us to go in there. I wouldn’t even put my own skills above hers today. So you can either head back to the cars, or you can join us in having your team member’s back.”

Alex took a deep breath, sucking down any and all responses she had but Hotch didn’t miss the way her nostrils flared, her eyes tense as she bit her lip and shut up. Instead her hands went back to her hips, one already stationed ready over her gun as she tried to control the way her heart was hammering in her chest. While she certainly hadn’t known about your specific role with NYPD and was a little less worried about you being in there alone, she still didn’t want you getting hurt. You’d been in deep with this one, relating a little too much to the kidnapped victim and she was worried about what you might do to get her free. Now all she could do was wait.

She honestly wasn’t sure if it was the way her blood was pumping so loudly in her ears, or if there really was that much static over her earpiece. She could hear your hushed voice crackling through every so often as you cleared the first couple of rooms, making sure to check in with your team, she faintly heard something else and by the way Morgan’s eyes shot toward the warehouse she was certain you’d found the unsub. This was the part she hated the most, she wanted to be in there with you, or at least in your ear, guiding you through what could very much help you talk this guy down if your own tactics didn’t seem to be working. It was driving her insane that none of them could hear what you were saying, it was clear you had adjusted your radio to attempt to keep the audio button pressed down, pinched between your belt and hip but it still kept cutting in and out.

If you had asked, she could have sworn they were standing outside of that goddamn building all night, the anxiety coursing through her body causing her muscles to tense, nearly aching by the time Reid’s head shot up.

“She’s coming out!”

In reality it had been just over forty minutes. But those forty minutes had been absolutely agonizing as she prayed for your safety while still trying to focus enough to stay sharp and do her job.

The door to the warehouse booted open and the unsub was the first to appear, cuffs on his wrists, hands on his head. You had one hand sturdy on his shoulder while the other one was being clutched by the girl on your side. Swat hustled in, quickly taking the guy down to the ground while they did a more thorough search before escorting him to the car. The team relaxed, the tension surging through them finally beginning to melt away as you glanced around the lot, beginning to lead the girl over to them.

Somehow, you heard it first and your ears picked up that it was coming from behind you, a shot fired from the roof of the warehouse. There was a cacophony of yelling, screams and very sudden nearly panicked rush of movement. All you could think of was making sure that the girl made it out in one piece, shoving her in front of you as you nearly hit the ground, enveloping her in your embrace.

“GO!” Hotch’s yell was barely audible over your ringing ears, “Morgan take the back.”

Gusts of air raced passed either side of you and a rock must’ve been kicked up, your arm began to sting, pain beginning to prickle through your body. You heard another couple of shots ring through the night air and wrapped tighter around the girl.

“He’s running.” Alex’s voice was suddenly at your side, her hand gently resting on your shoulder and you were able to relax, your hand still tightly clutched in the girl’s.

“Then go!” You urged her, waving in the proper direction.

“You’re hit. I’m not going anywhere.” She insisted and the pain in your arm suddenly increased by a tenfold.

“I’m fine!” You assured her, glancing down to see the tear in your shirt, looking to the ground in front of you, you spotted the bullet, still in one piece and nearly as clean as it had come out of the gun.

“No you’re not. You’re bleeding.” Alex’s fingers delicately tugged at the fabric of your sleeve trying to get a better look at it.

“It’s barely a scrape! Go help the team.”

“I don’t care!” She nearly snapped back and when you finally looked up and caught her gaze there was a misting of tears in her eyes, “you are what’s important to me right now.”

“Okay.” You nodded softly, standing to your full height and scooping up the girl with your non injured side to carry on your hip over to the medics.

Alex couldn’t help herself, chewing on her fingernail as the paramedic urged you into the back of the ambulance for better lighting. She could feel her leg shaking and finally succumbed to the pressure, beginning to pace, her feet kicking at the gravel a welcomed distraction until the medic jumped down from the bus. Her head shot up, catching the moment you dropped down to sitting on the back of the rig, an orange juice in your non injured hand.

“You okay?” She asked timidly, approaching you.

“Yeah.” You nodded, gesturing toward the bandage on your arm, “just a graze, no stitches necessary.”

“Oh thank god.” She let out a huge breath, the relief flooding through her body all at once so intensely she had to drop down beside you and you were quick to catch her trembling hand in yours.

“Alex… I’m fine. We’re both fine. We’ve both seen and handled worse.”

She made a meek noise, avoiding your gaze as her fingers tapped a rhythm on her thigh and against your palm. A brief silence over took the back of the rig while she calmed herself and made an attempt at sorting her thoughts.

“I’m sorry.” She finally spoke, “I was out of line.” She risked a glance up at you, “please know that I have never and will never doubt your abilities, you’re incredible at what you do. I was just scared. I guess… I guess I was putting personal thoughts above professional ones, and I had no idea about you being a hostage negotiator.”

“It never came up.” You shrugged, “and I shouldn’t have snapped back either.” You smiled softly, squeezing at her hand, “it’s been such a long week, we’re all exhausted. And I know that’s no excuse…”

“Still a contributing factor.” She finally cracked a small smile and you laughed softly, leaning in to leave a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“How did two people with careers built on clear and concise communication skills end up sucking at it when it comes to outside of work?” You asked with a laugh, pulling one from Alex.

“I don’t know.” She softly squeezed your hand, “it’s something to work on.” Her hand wrapped around you, pulling your head to her so she could leave a tender kiss on your temple. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The sound of a boot on gravel broke through your little happy moment and both of your heads shot up to find Hotch standing in front of you, a brow raised in your direction.

“If you’d like you can keep pretending the entire team didn’t already know, but in the future I’d hope it doesn’t affect any of our cases.”

“Yes sir.”

“Sorry sir.”

“And I expect that paperwork on my desk by the time we land.” He eyed you for a moment before his lips split into a small smile, “good work today Wilson. I’m glad you have someone like Blake to have your back, even if she does get a bit pushy at times.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that burst from your mouth as Alex let out a scoff, Hotch turning away with a gleam in his eye.  

_____________

@svulife-rl rl @clarawatson @hbkpop @momlifebehard @itisdoctortoyousir @temilyrights @alexxavicry @evilregal2002 @ladysc @dextur @disneyfan624 @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @lex13cm @happenstnces @whiteberryx @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @emobabeyy @leftoverenvy @daddy-heather-dunbar @regalmilfs4me @scorpsik @riveramorylunar @h-doodles @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @s1ut4nat @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @tommyriddleobsessed @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @ara-a-bird @hopedoesntknow @dj-bynum3718 @venromanova @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @nachofriess @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @moonlightjxuregui @gamma-rae-bursts

[reidmarieprentiss]

Capturing the Queen

Summary: You are Alex's daughter, Spencer is a fan of the whole family.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, smut (18+)

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, swimsuits, swimming, alcohol consumption, mild injury/hospitalization of Alex, you are the adoptive daughter, chess playing

Word count: 19.6k

a/n: live laugh love alex blake !! would be honored if she adopted me ,, she seems like she would be the coolest mom ,, also lowkey wanted her to have a chance at motherhood after you know...

main masterlist

Additional warnings: oral (f), protected PinV, fingering (f) nipple play (f&m), strip chess

In the softly lit hospital room, the steady beeping of the heart monitor played a continuous, albeit unsettling, rhythm. Spencer Reid sat beside Alex Blake's hospital bed, his hands folded tightly in his lap, his eyes tracing the rise and fall of her chest with each breath she took. The tension in his shoulders was palpable, a stark contrast to the usually composed genius. Every so often, he'd run a hand through his hair, a nervous tick that had become more pronounced under stress.

The door creaked open, and a young woman stepped in, her presence like a sudden burst of sunlight piercing through heavy clouds. Spencer looked up, his expression full of curiosity and concern. The woman's eyes, remarkably stunning, scanned the room before settling on Spencer with an inquisitive tilt of her head.

"Hi, you must be Spencer," you introduced yourself, your voice a comforting melody amidst the sterile echoes of the hospital. Spencer stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor, his movements awkward in his urgency.

"Yes, I—I'm Spencer Reid. You're Alex's...?" he trailed off, not wanting to assume.

"Daughter," You finished for him with a gentle smile. "I was away for work, I just got back and came straight here to see how she's doing. So… how is she?"

Spencer's eyes shifted back to Alex, lying so still on the hospital bed. "She's stable now, but it was a close call," he admitted, the weight of the situation momentarily tightening his voice. "She saved two children from that unsub before—"

"Before she got hurt," You interjected, nodding slowly, your eyes itching with tears that you fought to keep at bay. "That sounds just like her. Always putting others first."

You both watched Alex, the silence between you both filled with shared worry and respect for the woman who had impacted your lives so profoundly. You moved closer, taking the seat Spencer had vacated, reaching out to gently touch your mom’s hand.

Spencer watched intently as the familial bond unfolded before him, the tender gestures between Alex and her daughter revealing a side of Alex he hadn't known. There was an unmistakable warmth in your interaction, a stark contrast to the clinical, often impersonal environment of the BAU.

"I wasn’t aware Alex had a daughter," he admitted, a sheepish tone coloring his confession as he brushed over his hair, a clear sign of his discomfort with the oversight.

"Ah, yes," you replied with a gentle nod, understanding his surprise. "That sounds like mom, never mixing business with her personal life." Your voice held a note of pride, acknowledging Alex's meticulous compartmentalization of her work and home life.

"I suppose that makes sense," Spencer responded, his voice thoughtful, reflecting his acceptance of Alex's privacy.

"I don’t take offense to it, it’s okay. You can relax," you reassured him, a smile playing at the corners of your mouth, trying to ease the tension you saw etched on his face.

Spencer let out a deep breath, more for show than necessity, his hand passing through his hair yet again in another rare display of vulnerability. "I’m sorry, I’m a little shaken up," he confessed, the ordeal of the day catching up to him now that the immediate danger had passed.

"I can imagine," you said, your voice softening with empathy. "Do you want to go home and rest? I can stay with her." Your offer was sincere, wanting to provide him some relief from the harrowing day.

"That would be great, thank you," Spencer accepted gratefully, relief visible in his eyes as he prepared to take your advice.

"My pleasure, have a nice rest, Spencer," you called out softly as he gathered his belongings, your voice carrying the warmth and assurance that he needed as he stepped out of the hospital room, leaving you to watch over Alex in the quiet of the night.

—

The morning light filtered through the blinds of the hospital room, casting a gentle glow on the figures within. Alex Blake's eyes fluttered open, and upon seeing you seated by her side, a wave of relief washed over her face, transforming into a grateful smile.

"How was the lecture?" Alex asked with a hint of her usual humor, her voice still a bit groggy from the effects of the medication and the ordeal she had endured.

"A lot better than getting stabbed!" you teased, your tone light and playful, aiming to bring a little levity to the situation. "Do you need anything?" you added, shifting in your chair to give her your full attention.

"Definitely more drugs, this hurts like a bitch," Alex responded half-jokingly, grimacing slightly as she tried to adjust her position on the hospital bed.

"I'll fetch a nurse, maybe if you put on a nice face they'll give you the good stuff," you winked at her, standing up and stretching a bit before heading toward the door to find a nurse.

The relationship you shared with your mom was built on a foundation of deep mutual respect and love, interspersed with a healthy dose of humor that helped you both through tough times. As you walked out of the room to seek assistance, you reflected on how grateful you were to have such a strong and courageous woman as your mother.

As you navigated the quiet hospital corridors on your mission to procure some relief for your mother, you unexpectedly bumped into Spencer Reid. He was holding a stack of papers while walking, likely some research, but he looked up with a slight start when he saw you.

"Well hello, fancy seeing you here," you greeted, a light chuckle escaping your lips at the coincidence.

"Oh, hi. How is she?" Spencer asked, his concern genuine, his brow furrowing slightly as he adjusted his stance to face you more directly.

"Awake and asking for drugs. I don’t suppose you’re the kind of doctor who could administer those?" you joked, an amused sparkle in your eyes.

"No, most definitely not. But I can find one for you," Spencer replied promptly, the corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile at your playful comment.

"I won’t say no to that, thanks," you said, appreciative of his offer to help. With a nod, Spencer turned to leave, presumably in search of a medical doctor.

You returned to Alex’s room, a smile tugging at your lips as you recounted the encounter to her. "I ran into Spencer, and he’s finding a doctor for us," you informed her, watching as a knowing look passed over her features.

"So you met Spencer?" Alex’s voice held a hint of mischief, her eyes twinkling despite her discomfort.

"I did indeed, he is exactly as you described him," you confirmed, settling back into the chair beside her bed.

"Charmingly awkward and annoyingly intelligent?" she quipped, a faint laugh accompanying her words.

"From what I have observed, yes," you agreed, playing along with her characterization.

"You know… he's only got about five years on you," Alex added nonchalantly, but with a teasing tone that made you raise an eyebrow.

"That’s amazing, Alex, what’s cooking in your scary noggin?" you asked, half-joking but also genuinely curious about her sudden interest in the age difference.

"Nothing, my sweet pea, nothing at all," she responded, her expression feigning innocence which didn't fool you one bit.

"I don't believe you for a sec—" you started to say, but were interrupted as the door swung open.

The doctor walked in with Spencer in tow, cutting off your playful interrogation. Spencer gave a small wave, looking slightly embarrassed to be caught in the middle of your family moment, but also relieved to have found the help Alex needed. As the doctor approached the bed to discuss pain management, you exchanged a grateful glance with Spencer, feeling oddly reassured by his presence in this unsettling environment.

After the doctor had left, having administered the necessary medication and made some adjustments to Alex’s treatment plan, Spencer lingered in the room. His analytical mind shifted into high gear as he began to run through his own checklist to ensure that Alex was indeed okay.

He approached the bedside, his eyes scanning the various monitors displaying Alex’s vital signs. “Her heart rate seems stable, and her oxygen levels are good,” Spencer muttered more to himself than anyone else, his fingers hovering just above the data without touching anything.

Turning to Alex, Spencer’s demeanor softened. “How are you feeling now? Any dizziness, nausea, or excessive pain?” he inquired, his voice filled with genuine concern. He knew the importance of patient self-reporting in assessing pain management efficacy.

Alex managed a small smile, appreciating Spencer's thoroughness. “I’m okay, thanks to you and your timely intervention,” she said, her voice still weak but steadier than before.

Spencer nodded, satisfied with her response but still visibly concerned. He then pulled up a chair, positioning himself where he could keep an eye on both Alex and the door. “I’ll stay for a bit, just to make sure everything settles well. I read some recent studies on post-operative care that suggest monitoring for at least an hour after new medication is administered can drastically reduce complications,” he explained, crossing his arms as he settled into the role of a temporary guardian.

“You always were the diligent one,” Alex quipped, her tone light despite her condition. Her eyes met yours, a spark of mischief in them suggesting she enjoyed seeing this side of Spencer, which she so fondly teased him about.

Spencer, slightly embarrassed by the praise, shifted uncomfortably but smiled. He was about to comment back before you spoke up from your chair. 

"You were right in your assessment, Mom, annoyingly intelligent," you teased, glancing over at Spencer, whose face fell into an expression of mock offense at the jest.

"What?" he managed, his voice laced with feigned indignity, which only added to the humor of the moment.

"Oh shush, you," Alex intervened gently, her voice carrying a hint of laughter despite her condition. She turned to Spencer, adding, "You’ll have to excuse her rude behavior; she’s adopted, didn't get the nice gene I carry."

"Wow, Alex—" Spencer started, his tone a blend of amusement and shock, but he was cut off by your cackle.

"She’s not even kidding! I was adopted!" you exclaimed, joining in the lighthearted teasing, your laughter filling the room and lightening the atmosphere.

Spencer looked from you to Alex and back again, his initial surprise morphing into delight at the easy flow of humor and conversation. A genuine smile spread across his face as he shook his head, his earlier embarrassment forgotten in the face of such familial warmth.

The playful banter continued to fill the room, bringing lightness and smiles to an otherwise dreary hospital setting. Spencer listened, clearly enjoying the spirited exchange between you and Alex.

"So she's probably not as good at crosswords as you, huh?" Spencer teased, joining in the fun while glancing between you and Alex.

"She wishes! I kicked her ass last time we went toe to toe," you declared with a proud grin, challenging your mother's claim.

"Did not!" Alex retorted, her competitive spirit flaring up despite her condition.

"Did too!" you shot back, both of you unable to keep straight faces.

"Well, Spencer could take you any day," Alex added, throwing a sly look towards Spencer, playfully dragging him into the challenge.

Spencer's reaction was immediate; he sputtered, caught off guard by the double entendre embedded in Alex's statement. His cheeks flushed a faint pink as he quickly tried to regain his composure, fumbling for a response. "I—uh, well, I do enjoy a good crossword," he managed to say, his voice cracking slightly under the unexpected spotlight.

—

The hospital discharge process on that Thursday was a mixture of relief and anxious anticipation. As you assisted your mom with her belongings and helped her into the car, the drive back home was filled with plans and promises—chief among them, your commitment to stay with her until your dad could return from his overseas work. Living independently in Lynchburg had given you a sense of freedom being three hours away, but in times like these, family needed to come first.

Alex, stubborn as stubborn gets, was set on returning to work at the BAU by Monday. Her determination was palpable, a testament to her indomitable spirit. "I'm fine, really. Sitting at home isn't going to make me any better. I need to be doing something," she insisted, brushing off your concerns with a stubborn tilt of her head that left no room for argument. Her resolve was as firm as ever, as unyielding as a mule.

Come Monday morning, the atmosphere at the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit was one of cautious celebration. Team members exchanged smiles and warm greetings as Alex walked in, her stride confident but perhaps a tad slower than usual. Each welcome was tinged with a touch of concern, reflecting the team's collective relief and residual worry.

Hotch was the epitome of a caring yet cautious leader. Approaching Alex, he offered a sincere smile that reached his eyes—a rare occurrence that didn’t go unnoticed. "Welcome back, Alex. Are you sure you’re ready to be back?" His tone was gentle yet firm, the underlying note of authority making it clear that her well-being was his priority.

Alex, understanding the weight of his concern, nodded firmly. "I appreciate it, Hotch, but I’m ready. Sitting around isn't really my style, you know that," she replied, her voice carrying that familiar steely resolve.

Hotch studied her for a moment longer, assessing her demeanor and the subtle signs of her recovery. Finally, he gave a slight nod, the gesture conveying both his approval and his continued vigilance. "Alright, but we’re keeping the workload light for now. Let’s ease back into it," he decided, setting parameters that he hoped would safeguard her health without stifling her need to contribute.

—

In the quietude of the BAU breakroom, the gentle hum of the coffee machine served as a backdrop for a seemingly casual conversation between Spencer Reid and Alex Blake. Both were in the process of making coffee, an activity that allowed them a few moments of respite from the demands of their jobs.

“How are you doing?” Spencer inquired, pouring hot water into his mug, his tone carrying genuine concern as he glanced over at Alex.

“Oh, you know me, I’m fine. Needed to get back to work or I’d go crazy,” Alex responded with a wry smile, her hands expertly handling her coffee with practiced ease.

“Is it hard having your daughter stay with you?” Spencer asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice as he added a spoonful of sugar to his drink.

“What? Oh my goodness, no! That girl is the light of my life; she is the only person who can keep me sane aside from my husband,” Alex gushed, her face lighting up at the mention of you. Her affection and pride were unmistakable.

“She seems nice, funny,” Spencer noted, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he recalled the brief interactions he’d had with you.

“Yeah? Is that all you liked about her?” Alex prodded, a mischievous glint appearing in her eyes as she took a sip of her coffee.

“I mean, she is clearly intelligent. I appreciate that in a person,” Spencer added, running his fingers through his hair, a sign that he was thinking more deeply about the question than he initially let on.

“Anything else?” Alex continued, her tone teasing yet probing, as if trying to unearth something Spencer hadn’t yet admitted to himself.

“What are you getting at?” Spencer finally asked, a touch of defensiveness creeping into his voice, his eyebrows knitting together in mild confusion.

“Nothing… nothing,” Alex replied, her voice light, though her eyes danced with unspoken implications. She turned away, focusing on finishing her coffee, allowing the question to linger in the air between them.

They continued to tend to their coffees in silence, the air thick with unspoken thoughts. Just as they were finishing up, and Alex was about to walk back to the bullpen, she threw a comment over her shoulder to Spencer, “She’s single, you know?” The words hung in the air as she left, leaving Spencer slightly flustered and more thoughtful than before.

Alex’s parting remark added a new layer to Spencer’s contemplation as he stood in the breakroom, stirring his coffee slowly. The possibility of something more than professional respect or friendship with you seemed to be gently placed in front of him, courtesy of Alex’s subtle matchmaking. Whether or not he would explore that possibility remained an open question as he resumed his day, the idea quietly percolating alongside his morning coffee.

—

In the BAU office on Friday afternoon, the topic of Alex Blake's previously undisclosed daughter became the center of attention. Penelope Garcia, always vibrant and inquisitively affectionate, approached Alex with her characteristic flair.

"Alex Blake! Why am I just now finding out you have a daughter?" Penelope bombarded her in a friendly manner, her curiosity piqued after Spencer had let slip that you had visited the hospital.

"Because I didn’t tell you, Spencer did?" Alex retorted with a playful raise of her eyebrows, a slight smile touching her lips as she turned the tables back on Penelope.

"He did, and thank God for him. Can we meet her?" Penelope pressed, her enthusiasm undimmed.

"I don’t see why not, she’s back home in Lynchburg though," Alex explained, her tone suggesting she was open to the idea, but practical considerations of distance and timing were not lost on her.

"Reid, how far away is that?" Penelope quickly directed her question to Spencer, who was nearby.

"Three hours by car, give or take due to traffic and time of year," Spencer calculated swiftly.

"So she could come back for a weekend?" Penelope continued, already planning in her mind.

"I suppose. I will float her the idea. She is a professor, though, so no promises she will be free anytime soon," Alex tempered expectations, mindful of your professional commitments. Little did they know, you had taken the term off to focus on research, a detail Alex was careful not to disclose prematurely.

Suddenly, Derek Morgan chimed in, having caught the tail end of the conversation. "Blake, you got a daughter?" His interest was as quick as his smile.

"Mhm, I do," Alex affirmed, not missing a beat.

"How old is she? Is she cute?" Derek's questions rolled off his tongue before he could censor them, typical of his straightforward charm.

"Derek Morgan!" Penelope chided, her tone playful yet reproving.

"26-years-old. She is," Alex laughed, not at all offended, appreciating the lighter mood her team brought to the end of a challenging week.

Derek's suggestion to bring you down for a weekend and take you to a bar sparked a lively debate among the BAU team members. The atmosphere was charged with the kind of camaraderie that often led to spontaneous planning sessions for team outings.

JJ, overhearing the spirited discussion, decided to offer a different twist, stepping into the conversation with a more relaxed suggestion. "Or we could finally get Rossi to let us use his pool," she interjected, knowing that a gathering at Rossi's house could offer a more intimate and relaxed setting for everyone.

"Yes!! I love that, that is what we will do," Penelope declared with a flourish, her enthusiasm sealing the decision with finality. Her eyes sparkled with the anticipation of organizing another memorable team gathering, this time perhaps with a new face among them.

The idea of a pool party at Rossi's house quickly gained unanimous approval. The team envisioned a laid-back afternoon filled with laughter, good food, and the chance to unwind together outside the usual high-stakes environment of their daily work. 

Alex, watching the exchange, felt pride and slight apprehension. Introducing you to her colleagues in such a casual setting was a big step, but she wanted to trust her team implicitly. She knew that once the plans were set, she would have to give you a call to discuss the upcoming weekend, hoping you'd be as excited about the prospect as everyone seemed to be.

—

Alex reached for her phone and dialed your number. As the phone rang, she found herself hoping you'd share the team's enthusiasm for a weekend visit.

"Hey," Alex began as soon as you picked up, her voice warm and inviting. "I have something potentially fun to propose to you. The team was talking, and they really want to meet you. How would you feel about coming down for a weekend? They're planning a little get-together at Rossi's place—he has a pool, and it's going to be quite the relaxed day."

You responded with excitement, your voice brightening up the call. "That sounds amazing, Mom! I'd love to come down and meet everyone. It'll be nice to see where you work and meet your colleagues."

Alex's heart swelled with joy at your enthusiasm. "Great! They're all excited to meet you, too. Penelope is already planning what she calls 'the ultimate pool party,' so it should be a lot of fun. We can sort out the details later, but I'm just really glad you're up for it."

"Absolutely, I wouldn't miss it for the world," you assured her, the smile in your voice unmistakable. "Just let me know the dates, and I'll make sure I'm there."

"Will do," Alex confirmed, her relief and happiness evident. "I'll send you the details once we finalize everything. Love you and can't wait to see you!"

"Love you too, Mom. See you soon!" you replied, already looking forward to the weekend.

Hanging up the phone, Alex felt a weight lift off her shoulders. Your willingness to engage with her world at the BAU brought her immense comfort and pride. She couldn't wait for the weekend, eager to bridge her two worlds—one of work and one of family—into a single, joyful occasion.

—

As the car rolled through the scenic route leading to Rossi's expansive property, the windows were down, allowing the breeze to carry in the scents and sounds of a perfect weekend. You glanced over at Alex, who was focusing on the road but with a relaxed smile playing on her lips.

"So, is the whole team going to be there today?" you asked casually, your curiosity partly piqued by the descriptions of the various team members you had heard so much about, but especially wanting to see Spencer.

Alex caught the subtle undertone in your question and decided to have a little fun with it. She knew from Spencer's embarrassed reactions and your shy inquiries that there might be a budding interest there. "Oh, the whole team? Well, let's see," she began, her voice teasingly slow. "There's Rossi, of course, it’s his house after all. Derek, Aaron, JJ... they wouldn’t miss it. Penelope has been talking about this non-stop, so yes, she’ll be there with bells on."

You waited, noting she hadn't mentioned Spencer yet, and raised an eyebrow, prompting her to continue.

"And then there might be one or two others, you know, the quiet types who prefer to keep a low profile but somehow always end up being the life of the party," Alex continued, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she finally glanced your way.

"You’re being vague, Mom," you pointed out with a laugh, not missing her playful tone.

"Am I? Maybe a little," Alex conceded with a laugh. "Okay, okay, Spencer will be there. He’s actually quite looking forward to it. Mentioned something about bringing a special book for poolside reading—only Spencer would bring a book to a pool party."

You smiled, feeling a flutter of anticipation at the mention of Spencer's name and his quirky habits. "Sounds like it’s going to be a great day," you said, your voice light and hopeful.

"Absolutely," Alex confirmed, turning into the driveway that led up to Rossi’s beautifully landscaped front yard. 

The conversation eased any lingering nerves as the car pulled to a stop. Today wasn't just about meeting the team; it was about fun, relaxation, and perhaps, a little bit of new friendship blossoming under the warm sun by Rossi's pool.

—

As you followed Alex through Rossi's ornate gate, the backyard unfolded into a whimsical mermaid-themed paradise, courtesy of Penelope's vibrant and imaginative decorating style. Streamers in various shades of blue and green fluttered in the breeze, and inflatable sea creatures bobbed in the pool, creating a playful and inviting atmosphere.

"Wait until you see this," Alex said with a chuckle, leading you towards the bar where Savannah and Derek were busy concocting colorful drinks. Both looked up as you approached, their faces lighting up with welcoming smiles.

"Ah, the guest of honor!" Derek exclaimed, his voice warm and teasing. He offered you a mock bow, his charming grin infectious. "Welcome to Rossi’s mermaid lagoon. Can I interest you in a 'Siren’s Call' or perhaps a 'Mermaid’s Kiss'?" he asked, gesturing to the array of drinks with a flourish.

Savannah, chimed in with a playful wink. "Ignore him, he’s been trying to perfect that drink just to use the name as a pickup line all afternoon." She extended her hand in greeting. "I’m Savannah, Derek’s girlfriend. It’s so nice to meet you."

You couldn’t help but laugh, immediately put at ease by their friendly banter. "It’s great to meet you both, too. I’ll start with a 'Mermaid’s Kiss', it sounds like it could be the start of a fun story," you replied, playing along with the theme and their light-hearted demeanor.

Derek quickly set to work, mixing the drink with practiced ease. "Only the best for Alex’s star," he said as he handed you the colorful concoction, garnished with a small umbrella and a twist of lime.

Savannah leaned in slightly, her tone conspiratorial. "So, how are you liking teaching? Derek tells me you’re a professor."

Alex watched with a mixture of pride and amusement as you interacted with her colleague and his beau. It was clear that Savannah and Derek were making a special effort to make you feel welcomed and included, their playful flirting just part of the friendly and open nature of the team.

David Rossi, the gracious host and impeccable in his role, approached the bar with a warm, inviting smile. He was dressed casually yet with an unmistakable elegance that suited his character. Upon seeing you, his eyes lit up with genuine interest, and he extended a hand for a firm, welcoming handshake.

"Ah, you must be Alex's daughter! I've heard so many wonderful things," Rossi greeted you enthusiastically. His demeanor was that of someone who took great pleasure in hosting and ensuring everyone felt at ease.

"It’s so nice to finally meet you, Mr. Rossi," you replied, appreciating the warmth of his welcome.

"Please, call me Dave," he insisted with a dismissive wave of his hand. "And since I'm the one who has the honor of this fine establishment," he gestured grandly to his beautifully decorated backyard, "let me take you on a tour and introduce you to everyone else."

Rossi's offer was punctuated with a charming smile, and he waited courteously for your acceptance.

"That sounds wonderful, thank you," you responded, eager to meet the rest of the team under such friendly auspices.

As you followed Rossi through the vibrant, sunlit backyard, his strides confident yet unhurried, you approached where JJ and Penelope were seated, their laughter carrying over the gentle splash of pool water. Their conversation paused as they looked up, noticing Rossi's approach with a new face beside him.

"JJ, Penelope, I'd like you to meet a very special guest today—Alex's daughter," Rossi introduced you with a warm gesture towards you. His voice held a note of pride, as if he was introducing someone of importance, which in his eyes, you certainly were.

JJ stood up immediately, her expression open and welcoming, "It’s so wonderful to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you." Her greeting was accompanied by a friendly hug, which felt comforting and genuine.

Penelope, the vibrant soul of the team, beamed at you from her seat, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and excitement. "Oh my gosh, it's finally so nice to put a face to the name!" she exclaimed, rising to give you a soft squeeze. "We've got to catch you up on all our little secrets," she added with a wink, implying the gossip they were indulging in just moments before.

Rossi chuckled softly, clearly amused by Penelope's unabashed enthusiasm. "Be careful, Penelope might recruit you into her next scheme of fun," he joked, his tone light and teasing.

The interaction felt incredibly warm, and the ease with which both JJ and Penelope included you in their circle spoke volumes about the team's camaraderie. They quickly resumed their lighthearted gossip, seamlessly weaving you into the conversation.

"So, who's in the hot seat today in the world of celebrity mishaps?" you asked, playing along with Penelope's earlier hint.

Penelope clapped her hands delightedly, thrilled at your engagement. "Oh, you are going to love this one," she started, diving into a colorful recounting of the latest Hollywood faux pas, with JJ chiming in with her observations.

As Rossi watched the exchange, a content smile played on his lips. It was clear to him—and soon to you—that the BAU team was not just a group of colleagues but a family, one that was now opening its arms to you. His role as the host had subtly shifted to that of an observer, pleased with the seamless integration of new and old members of his extended family.

Rossi continued guiding you through the festive backyard, his next destination being where Aaron Hotchner and Spencer Reid were situated. They had positioned themselves slightly apart from the more boisterous groups, each enjoying the serene atmosphere in their own way—Aaron relaxed with a slight smile on his face, eyes closed, and Spencer absorbed in a book, his typical form of relaxation.

As you approached, Rossi announced, "Aaron, Spencer, look who's here to join us."

Hotch opened his eyes and sat up straighter, offering a welcoming nod and a professional, "It's nice to meet you." His greeting, though brief, was filled with the quiet respect he accorded all his team's family members.

Spencer, on the other hand, reacted with a more visible shift in demeanor. He looked up from his book, and upon seeing you, his face lit up with an eager smile, quickly tempered by a hint of nervousness as he stood to greet you. His movements were a bit awkward, typical of Spencer when he was flustered or overly excited.

"Hi, it's really good to see you again," Spencer said, his voice slightly higher pitched than usual. He extended his hand for a handshake, then seemed to reconsider, pulling it back slightly before committing to the gesture.

As you greeted him, Spencer's eyes briefly met yours, but then, seemingly overwhelmed, darted away. He glanced at the book in his hand as if considering whether to explain what he was reading, then back at your face, and finally, his gaze drifted—albeit quickly and almost guiltily—over your attire. Your cover-up was sheer, hinting at the swimsuit beneath, and despite his best efforts, Spencer found it challenging to maintain steady eye contact, his cheeks coloring slightly.

Rossi, noticing Spencer's discomfort, chuckled softly and clapped him on the shoulder. "Spencer here was just reading about some of the finer points of historical linguistics. Weren't you, Reid?" he teased, trying to ease the tension and bring Spencer back into his element.

Spencer nodded, grateful for the diversion. "Yes, um, it's quite fascinating how language evolves over time and—" He caught himself, realizing he might be diving too deep too quickly, and offered a more restrained smile. "But that's probably not very interesting poolside talk."

Aaron, ever the observer, added with a smile, "Spencer's always ready to teach us something new."

“I’m always eager to learn something new,” you said with a flirty undertone, your eyes twinkling with mischief as you took in Spencer’s outfit.

He blinked, slightly startled by your boldness but clearly flattered, his cheeks taking on a faint pink hue. "Well, I suppose I have plenty of interesting facts I could share," he replied, attempting to match your playful energy, though there was a hint of nervousness in his tone.

You stood next to him, the conversation flowing effortlessly amidst the summer ambiance. "I like this look on you, by the way," you commented, gesturing to his Hawaiian shirt with a smile. "It suits you."

Spencer chuckled, adjusting his sunglasses as he responded, "Thanks. You look great too, very summery."

The mutual compliments created a relaxed ease between you, and you noticed his eyes lingering on you with admiration and bashfulness. Despite his usual analytical nature, the hint of awkwardness only added to his charm.

Rossi, observing the exchange with a knowing smile, eventually excused himself, leaving you both to enjoy the peacefulness of the afternoon and the opportunity to get to know each other better. With the sound of the pool splashing in the background and the distant hum of music playing, the day felt full of promise and potential.

“I think I’ll go get another drink and put my feet in the water, do you want to join me?”, you offered to Spencer as your conversation fizzled naturally. 

Spencer hesitated, his reservation momentarily overriding the tempting offer. "Um, maybe. I might meet you in a little," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty but also a hint of hopefulness that he might indeed muster the courage to join you soon.

As you walked away, the gentle sway of your cover-up catching the light breeze, Aaron Hotchner watched the interaction with a small, knowing grin. He turned to Spencer, who was clearly lost in thought, and remarked casually yet pointedly, "You two seem to get along nicely."

Spencer's response was quick, both defensive and embarrassed. "Leave it alone, Hotch," he muttered, trying to mask his flustered state with a brief glance back at the book he had barely read since you arrived.

"I didn’t say anything," Aaron replied, his voice smooth and teasing, a rare break from his usually stoic demeanor.

"You didn’t have to," Spencer retorted, his tone softening, acknowledging the implicit understanding that his feelings—or at least his interest—were quite transparent to his perceptive boss.

Aaron chuckled softly, allowing the conversation to drop, respecting Spencer's privacy. He knew well the challenges his team faced in balancing personal lives with the demands of their intense careers. Observing Spencer's interaction with you brought a rare paternal sense of pride; he was always quietly supportive of his team's happiness outside the stressful confines of their work.

Spencer, left to his thoughts, watched you from a distance as you mingled effortlessly with the others, his mind racing with possibilities and the fear of stepping out of his comfort zone. The gentle nudge from Hotch was both unnerving and reassuring.

As Spencer sat absorbed in his internal debate, his attention was unwittingly captured by your movements. You, perhaps feeling the heat more intensely, decided it was time to embrace the full spirit of the pool party. With a graceful motion that seemed as natural as the breeze around, you slipped off your sheer cover-up, revealing the vibrant swimsuit underneath.

The sight momentarily stunned Spencer, his usually sharp mind faltering as he took in the way the fabric of your swimsuit embraced your figure. It was a simple moment, one often repeated in such settings, but for Spencer, it was as if time had slowed down. The pattern and the cut of the swimsuit accentuated your curves beautifully, catching him completely off guard.

As you turned to sit at the pool's edge, your back to him, Spencer's face flushed a deeper shade of red. He was an adult, well-versed in the biological responses of the human body, yet found himself embarrassingly unprepared to deal with his own reaction. His swimsuit, betraying his attempt to remain composed, began to feel uncomfortably tight.

Spencer hastily pulled a towel over his lap, his eyes darting around to see if anyone had noticed his discomfort. He felt a mix of adolescent awkwardness and adult embarrassment, his mind racing with both scientific explanations for his physiological reactions and a desperate wish for them to cease.

He took a deep breath, trying to refocus on the book in his hands, but the words blurred before his eyes. With a slight shake of his head, he chided himself silently for his lack of control. It was just a swimsuit at a pool party, after all—perfectly normal. Yet, the simplicity of the situation did little to calm his racing heart or cool his flushed cheeks.

Spencer realized that his feelings were perhaps more complicated than he had initially allowed himself to acknowledge. The book now forgotten, he shifted his focus back to the sounds of the pool party, using the laughter and splashing as a lifeline to pull himself back to the reality of the festive day around him. He needed a moment to collect himself, to restore the balance between his intellectual mind and the surprisingly strong emotional responses elicited by your mere presence.

Derek's voice cut through Spencer's thoughts, a lifeline thrown with impeccable timing. "Yo Reid, come join us!" he hollered, waving from the pool where he and others were splashing around, clearly enjoying the perfect balance of sun and water.

"Coming!" Spencer's response came out higher-pitched than he intended, a squeak that betrayed his nervous energy. He set his book down, decisively pushing aside his hesitation as he stood to remove his shirt. The action was simple, revealing the lean, wiry frame he usually kept hidden beneath layers of button-ups and cardigans.

As you watched Spencer join the festivities, you couldn't help but appreciate the view. His torso, though not heavily muscled, was toned and fit. A small patch of hair led intriguingly into his trunks, adding a surprisingly human detail to the brilliant mind you knew him to be.

Caught up in the moment, you didn't realize your gaze had lingered a bit too long until you caught your mom's eye. Alex, quite observant, gave you a teasing look, wiggling her eyebrows in a silent commentary on your obvious interest. Your cheeks heated with embarrassment, and you playfully flipped her off, which only made her chuckle softly.

Spencer, who was in the process of applying sunscreen, caught the tail end of this exchange. He looked from you to Alex, his expression a mixture of confusion and curiosity. Alex, maintaining her role as both mother and subtle matchmaker, simply winked at him, a silent endorsement of the budding interest she witnessed.

Spencer, now shirtless and a little more exposed than he usually allowed himself to be, took a deep breath and managed a shy smile. He made his way to the pool's edge, his initial embarrassment fading into a quiet resolve to enjoy the day fully—not just as Dr. Reid, but as Spencer.

As Spencer made his way into the water, Derek's voice boomed across the pool area, filled with his typical teasing bravado. "Woo-hoo! Pretty boy in the pool!" he cheered, clapping his hands in mock celebration, his wide smile indicating his pleasure at getting Spencer to join the fun.

Spencer, now somewhat accustomed to Derek's ways, rolled his eyes good-naturedly and shot back, "Keep it down, Morgan, or I'll start sharing all your college stories." His voice carried a light threat, but the grin on his face showed he was in the spirit of the jest.

Savannah, floating nearby on an inflatable raft, laughed and joined in the banter. "Oh, I want to hear those stories, Spencer!" she called out, her tone playful. "Especially the ones Derek never tells."

Derek waggled a finger at both Spencer and Savannah. "Traitors, the both of you," he joked, splashing water their way, which only incited more laughter.

You, watching the exchange from the edge where you'd just dipped your feet into the cool water, couldn't help but laugh at their antics. "Don’t let him bully you, Spencer. You have full immunity here!" you chimed in, giving Spencer an encouraging nod.

Spencer, feeling buoyed by the support, pretended to ponder your words. "Hmm, full immunity? This could be interesting," he mused aloud, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Alright, Derek, how about we start with the story of the mascot costume and the dean’s car?"

Derek’s laughter boomed louder, and he splashed towards Spencer, who quickly retaliated, and soon a playful water fight ensued. Savannah cheered them on, while you clapped, thoroughly enjoying the light-hearted energy.

As the splashing settled, Derek wrapped an arm around Savannah, pulling her close with a wet but warm embrace. "Alright, alright, no more secrets today," he conceded, still laughing. "Pretty boy gets a pass—for now."

The afternoon sun shone brightly over the scene, casting a sparkling sheen on the water and highlighting the smiles on everyone’s faces. 

Derek's voice carried across the water, teasing yet inviting, as he called out to you, "Hey, mini Blake, why don't you take the plunge and actually join us?" His playful challenge echoed around the pool, drawing chuckles from the others.

You glanced around, feeling the friendly eyes of the group on you, including Spencer's encouraging smile. With a spirited laugh, you stood up from your spot at the pool's edge, deciding to respond to Derek's challenge with equal gusto.

"Alright, you asked for it!" you declared. With a running start to gather momentum, you sprinted a few steps and executed a graceful cannonball into the pool, causing a splash that drenched Derek and a few others nearby.

As you surfaced, wiping water from your face, you were met with applause and more laughter. "Nice entrance!" Spencer commented, clearly impressed by your bold move.

Derek splashed water towards you, still grinning. "That's the spirit! Now it's a real party!" he exclaimed, his tone boisterous.

As the fun and games continued between Derek and Savannah, now joined by JJ and Penelope, you and Spencer found yourselves swimming towards the edge of the pool to take a quieter break. You both rested your arms on the ledge, the water lapping gently around you. The ambiance of the party—lively and loud in the background—created a sort of intimate bubble for the two of you to chat away from the crowd.

Spencer, who was usually more reserved, seemed to relax as the conversation between you flowed easily. He laughed softly at a joke you made, his eyes lighting up with genuine amusement. However, as he became more comfortable, he found his gaze inadvertently drifting. Despite his best intentions, Spencer couldn't help but notice how the water accentuated your figure, particularly how your swimsuit clung to your curves. His eyes, almost of their own accord, kept flicking towards your chest before he would catch himself and hurriedly look away, cheeks tinged with a flush of embarrassment.

Noticing his discomfort, you decided to steer the conversation to a safer topic, perhaps something academic or related to a shared interest, to put him at ease. "So, Spencer, you mentioned a book you were reading earlier? What's it about?" you asked, giving him an opening to divert his attention to more familiar ground.

Spencer seemed grateful for the change in topic, quickly seizing the opportunity to talk about something he was comfortable with. "Oh, yes, it's actually quite fascinating," he began, his enthusiasm bubbling as he delved into a description of the book. It was a historical analysis of cryptology used during the Cold War—a subject that captivated him. As he spoke, his hands animatedly moved, illustrating the complexities of code-breaking and espionage.

As the conversation between you and Spencer continued to flow, light and engaging, you noticed that despite his initial efforts to focus on the intellectual topics at hand, his gaze occasionally wandered back down. Deciding to address it with a touch of humor to keep the atmosphere relaxed and flirty, you gave him a playful smile.

"Spencer, do I have something on my swimsuit? You keep looking down," you teased, your tone light but with a teasing undertone, trying to make light of his nervous glances.

Caught in the act, Spencer's face turned a deeper shade of red, and he stammered for a moment, searching for the right words. "Oh, uh, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—I mean, I wasn't..." he trailed off, clearly flustered but also trying not to seem rude or inappropriate.

Realizing he was genuinely embarrassed, you laughed softly, aiming to ease his discomfort. "It's okay, Spencer. I'm just teasing you. But if you keep looking, you might owe me a compliment or two to make up for it," you suggested, your smile widening, giving him a clear signal that you weren't offended but rather amused by his bashfulness.

Spencer's relief was clear as he managed a small, shy smile in return. "Well, in that case," he began, taking a moment to compose himself, "I think you look... really beautiful today. The sunlight and the water just... I mean, you looked beautiful last time too, but today it's just more, I guess."

Your heart warmed at his earnest compliment, and you could tell by his expression that he meant every word, even if it was delivered with a touch of Spencer's typical awkward charm. "Thank you, Spencer. That's very sweet of you to say," you responded, your voice softening, appreciative of his sincerity.

The tension dissolved, replaced by a newfound comfort. You both continued chatting, the conversation now sprinkled with more shared laughs and less hesitation. As the pool party carried on around you, your interaction became a memorable highlight of the day.

—

As the afternoon sun began to wane, casting long shadows over the pool area, Rossi decided it was the perfect moment to transition from water activities to a more laid-back dining experience. He moved towards the grill, a practiced hand at hosting, and began to fire it up, signaling a shift in the day's activities.

"Alright, everyone, let's give the pool a break and gather around for some good food!" Rossi announced, his voice carrying over the chatter and splashes. His call was met with enthusiastic responses, as the guests, including you and Spencer, began to make your way toward the designated dining area, where tables were set up under a string of lights that flickered softly in the evening air.

The smell of grilling food filled the air, a blend of spices and smoke that promised a delicious meal. As people settled around the tables, you found yourself sitting next to Spencer, the earlier poolside interaction having naturally drawn the two of you closer.

With plates filled with grilled delights—vegetables charred to perfection, juicy steaks, and flavorful chicken—the conversation flowed freely. You and Spencer, now more comfortable with each other, delved into topics that revealed more about your personalities and backgrounds.

"So, what got you interested in your field of work?" you asked Spencer, genuinely curious about what drove his passion for his often intense and challenging job.

Spencer, appreciative of the opportunity to share more about his work in a casual setting, responded thoughtfully. "I've always been fascinated by the workings of the human mind, the how and why people do what they do. It's like solving a puzzle, but every piece is a human action or decision," he explained, his eyes lighting up with the excitement of sharing his passion.

"And what about you? Alex might have mentioned you were doing some research this term. What's it about?" Spencer turned the question around, showing his interest in your pursuits.

You shared your research focus, explaining the complexities of your study in a way that made it accessible yet intriguing. "It's about the intersection of technology and human interaction. How digital spaces shape our perceptions and relationships," you explained, watching his reaction closely.

"That sounds incredibly relevant, especially considering how much of our lives are intertwined with technology now," Spencer noted, his response thoughtful and encouraging.

As the meal progressed, the ambiance around the tables was warm and inviting, with laughter and stories exchanged freely. Rossi, moving between groups, ensured everyone had what they needed, his hosting skills making the evening seem effortless.

After the plates cleared and everyone settled into a comfortable lull, full and content, Rossi leaned back in his chair with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know, nothing brings a team together quite like sharing war stories—and I'm not just talking about the cases we've solved. How about we go around and share some of our most memorable—or better yet, embarrassing—field moments? I'll start."

The group perked up, eager to partake in the storytelling. Rossi recounted a tale from his early days in the FBI, involving a mistaken identity, a runaway dog, and a mud pit that left him looking less than dignified at a critical moment. The story drew hearty laughs and set a jovial tone.

Encouraged by Rossi's self-deprecating humor, Hotch followed with his own story, sharing a rare glimpse into his less stoic side with a tale about a botched undercover operation that involved an accidentally activated car alarm during a stakeout.

The mood lightened, and one by one, team members chimed in with their own stories. When it was Spencer's turn, he hesitated for a moment, his natural shyness creeping in. But encouraged by the laughter and the supportive atmosphere, he began to share.

"So, there was this one time I was sent to collect evidence from a very cluttered antique shop," Spencer started, his voice holding amusement and embarrassment. "I was navigating through aisles crammed with delicate items, and I accidentally bumped into a shelf."

You leaned in, intrigued, as Spencer continued, "Everything happened in slow motion. I tried to catch one falling vase, which led me to knock over another, and it ended up being a disastrous domino effect of antiques crashing around me. I was mortified, especially when the shop owner came running."

The table erupted in laughter, not at Spencer's expense but in shared sympathy for the awkward situation. Spencer's face was a shade of red, but he was smiling, relieved to have shared the story and found humor in the reflection.

"Needless to say," Spencer concluded, "I learned a valuable lesson in spatial awareness that day, and I think I single-handedly funded the shop's insurance claim for the next year."

Your laughter mingled with the others, and you found yourself admiring Spencer's willingness to share such a humbling moment. It showcased his endearing vulnerability and his capacity to laugh at himself—a side of him that wasn't always apparent in the seriousness of his work.

—

As the evening began to wind down, with the laughter and conversations tapering into more subdued exchanges, Spencer found himself gently cornered by Alex, her expression earnest and somewhat conspiratorial. Under the soft glow of the garden lights, Alex's face was both motherly and determined.

"Are you going to do it?" she asked, her tone direct yet encouraging.

Spencer, caught off guard, roused his hair nervously. "Do what?" he responded, feigning confusion though he had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what Alex was referring to.

"Ask her out," Alex clarified, her gaze piercing as she studied Spencer's apprehensive demeanor.

"Alex… she's your daughter," Spencer replied, the words tinged with both respect and hesitation, as if that fact alone was a significant barrier.

"And?" Alex countered, undeterred. "I'm giving you my permission and encouragement." Her voice was soft but firm, a clear indication she had considered this conversation beforehand.

"She lives three hours away," Spencer pointed out, trying to find rational reasons to temper what he feared was a growing interest on his part, one he wasn't sure how to navigate.

"You both have cars," Alex retorted quickly, almost as if she had anticipated every excuse he might offer.

"We travel a lot," Spencer added, his tone reflecting the logistical complications of his job.

"So does she," Alex responded smoothly, her confidence unshaken.

"Why are you so adamant this happens?" Spencer finally asked, his frustration mingling with curiosity. He was typically analytical, preferring to understand the variables in any equation, and Alex's push was a variable he hadn't expected.

"Why are you so adamant that it doesn’t?" Alex shot back, her question sharp and to the point. She paused, letting her words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "Spencer, I know my daughter, and I know the kind of person who could make her happy. You're a good man, and regardless of the logistics, I think you could make each other very happy. Don't let fear of a few road trips get in the way of something that could be wonderful."

Her words, spoken with a mix of motherly insight and friendly advice, gave Spencer pause. He looked over to where you were laughing softly with Derek and Penelope, the warm light casting a glow around you. Something in his chest tightened with hope and hesitation.

Alex placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch reassuring. "Think about it, Spencer. Life’s too short for what-ifs."

As Alex walked away, leaving Spencer to his thoughts, he knew she was right. The challenges of distance and schedules were surmountable, but the risk of never exploring what could be between him and you was not. With a deep breath, Spencer resolved to think it over, Alex’s words echoing in his mind as he watched you from across the garden, pondering the possibilities that lay ahead.

Your approach caught Spencer slightly off-guard as he stood there lost in thought, the soft lighting of the garden illuminating the gentle curiosity in your eyes. "Hey doctor," you greeted, your tone light and friendly.

"Hi," Spencer responded, his voice a mixture of warmth and a hint of nervousness that he couldn't quite mask.

"What are you doing over here all alone?" you inquired, stepping closer to him, your presence effortlessly comforting.

"Thinking," he admitted, his eyes meeting yours briefly before looking away as if to gather his thoughts.

"Penny for your thoughts?" you offered, a playful tilt to your voice that seemed to ease some of the tension from Spencer's shoulders.

"For you, for free," he replied with a small, genuine smile, appreciating the ease with which you interacted with him. "Does your mom always try to set you up?"

"Set me up? As in pranks or dates?" you asked, a little laugh escaping you as you pondered which kind of setting up Alex might be more likely to engage in.

"Well, I'm curious about the pranks. But for now, dates," Spencer clarified, his tone suggesting he was treading into more personal territory.

"No, she has never tried to set me up on a date," you said, genuinely surprised by the revelation.

"She just did," Spencer confessed, watching your reaction closely.

"With who?" Your question was quick, filled with curiosity and a flicker of excitement.

"Me," he admitted, his heart rate picking up as he gauged your response to this unexpected twist.

"Did it work?" you asked, a playful yet meaningful question hanging between you, the night air filled with the potential of what might come next.

"I'm not sure yet," Spencer said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a hopeful smile.

"Can I help you decide?" Your words were bold, stepping into the space he offered, both literally and metaphorically.

"Maybe," Spencer replied, his smile broadening, touched by your forwardness and the sincerity behind it. His academic mind knew the complexities of human relationships, yet here, with you, it seemed simpler, more natural.

As you both stood there, the soft noises of the party in the background, a comfortable silence fell over you. It was the kind of moment that seemed to pause, allowing both of you to savor the potential of a new beginning. Spencer felt a rare sense of anticipation, a feeling that was both exhilarating and terrifying, as he considered what it might mean to take a chance on what your mother had so boldly orchestrated.

"Let's take a walk," you suggested, gesturing towards the garden path that wound its way around Rossi’s property. "We can talk about pranks and other catastrophes."

"Lead the way," Spencer said, a newfound lightness in his step as he joined you, ready to explore wherever this unexpected conversation might lead.

As you and Spencer began your walk along the garden path, the ambient lighting from the party casting gentle shadows around you, the atmosphere seemed ripe for deeper conversation. The air was cooler here, away from the crowd, and the quiet provided a perfect backdrop for getting to know each other better.

"So about those catastrophes... what did you have in mind?" he joked, his tone light and teasing as you both strolled along the garden path.

"Well, you could take me to dinner and I could spill hot soup on your lap," you quipped back, a mischievous glint in your eyes. The suggestion was absurd enough to draw a genuine laugh from Spencer, who seemed more at ease with each passing moment.

"Oh no!" he exclaimed, playing along with the scenario. "That sounds disastrous...and painful. Maybe we should skip the soup and go straight to dessert to avoid any potential accidents." His smile was easy, and his suggestion carried a hint of an actual date proposal, testing the waters to see how you'd respond.

"And that's where you're wrong, Dr. Reid. Too much sugar and I could throw up on you," you joked, your eyes twinkling with humor. This back-and-forth was shaping up to be an entertaining dance of wits.

A mock look of horror crossed Spencer's face as he considered your warning. "Well, that would certainly make for a memorable first date, wouldn't it?" he said, his tone light but with a laugh that suggested he was thoroughly enjoying the conversation.

Spencer's quick wit met each of your playful challenges with a matching jest, his eyes sparkling with delight at the banter that seemed only to draw you two closer. "Indeed! We could see a movie?" you suggested, shifting the conversation to potentially safer territory.

"Hmm, but then someone could talk the whole time, ruining our whole experience," he countered, raising an eyebrow in feigned concern.

"How rude! Then we’ll just have to have a picnic in the park," you offered up another alternative, your voice laced with laughter.

"And get ticks? Do you want to die?" Spencer retorted, a dramatic shiver accompanying his words.

"No, I guess not," you laughed, the absurdity of the escalating scenarios adding a light-hearted tone to the evening. "Maybe we shouldn’t go out then? Safer that way," you teased, gauging his reaction to the mock suggestion.

Spencer paused, his gaze softening as he looked at you, a sincere smile spreading across his face. "I don’t know, the reward seems worth the risk," he finally said, his voice lowering slightly in a more earnest tone. This simple statement, layered with meaning, seemed to anchor the playful conversation with a genuine expression of interest.

The air between you grew charged with the unspoken acknowledgment of the connection forming, as if the jokes and laughter had woven a thread that pulled you inevitably closer. Spencer's admission, veiled though it was in the ongoing joke, hinted at a deeper sentiment, suggesting that whatever minor calamities might accompany a date, the chance to spend time together outweighed them all.

"Alright, Dr. Reid," you responded, matching his serious tone with a lightness that kept the mood buoyant. "Let’s take that risk. Dinner, a movie, or even battling ticks in the park—let's just make sure it's memorable."

Spencer nodded, his agreement sealing the playful pact. "It’s a date then. And who knows? It might just be disaster-free."

"Boring," you giggled, playing along with the teasing theme of your budding relationship. "Do you happen to have a cell phone, Spencer? Or should I start writing you letters?"

Spencer's eyes lit up with amusement at your mention of letter writing, a hint of old-fashioned charm mingling with modern flirtation. "I'd love to exchange letters with you," he said earnestly, “but… the U.S. postal service doesn’t allow for the speed at which I’d like to plan our date.”

"Oh, so you're eager then?" you teased, leaning in slightly.

"Absolutely," Spencer replied, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "When it comes to something—or someone—important, I believe in being timely."

"Well, in that case," you continued, matching his earnest tone with a playful smirk, "perhaps modern technology can serve us better. Shall we exchange numbers instead? It might not be as romantic as a letter, but it’s certainly quicker."

Spencer nodded, readily agreeing as he pulled out his phone, a slightly old model that seemed to suit his slightly out-of-time character. "That sounds like a plan. We can save the letter writing for less urgent communications. Like... thank you notes after the date?" he suggested, raising an eyebrow in a question that also seemed to confirm there would indeed be something to be thankful for after your date.

You both exchanged phones to input your numbers, the action feeling both significant and natural. As you handed his phone back, your fingers brushed briefly, sending a small, unintentional spark of anticipation through both of you.

"Thank you notes sound promising," you said, locking your phone with his number saved. "But let's make sure there's plenty to be thankful for."

"I have no doubts about that," Spencer replied, his confidence surprising even himself. He was usually more reserved, but something about you drew out a more assertive side of him.

—

In the gentle hum of the car on the way home, Alex couldn't resist teasing you a bit more, the soft glow of the dashboard lights illuminating a knowing smile on her face. "You're going to marry Spencer," she declared, her tone playful yet hinting at the underlying seriousness of a mother who's seen a spark worth noting.

"Shut up, mother," you replied, your voice a mixture of embarrassment and affection, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a smile. Despite the protest, there was a flutter of excitement in your heart, a small part of you wondering about the possibilities that lay ahead with Spencer.

The car ride became a cocoon of warmth and laughter as Alex continued to tease gently, and you deflected with feigned annoyance. But underneath the playful banter, there was a shared understanding that this evening might just be the beginning of something special.

—

As soon as Spencer arrived home, the quiet of his apartment amplifying the excitement of the evening, he found himself reaching for his phone. He wanted to maintain the connection that had so pleasantly marked the day, and sending a text seemed like the perfect way to cap off the night. He opened a new message, typing with a hint of eagerness that felt both thrilling and slightly unfamiliar.

As he sent the message, a small part of him worried about appearing too eager, but the genuine enjoyment he'd felt throughout the evening bolstered his confidence. Spencer believed in honesty and direct communication, values that seemed even more important when it came to someone he found as intriguing as you.

Your phone buzzed lightly on the table, drawing your attention away from the evening’s winding down thoughts. You picked it up to find a message from Spencer, his words bringing a warm smile to your face.

Home safe. Thank you for a wonderful evening. When can I see you again?

The message was simple but laden with the kind of earnestness that was quintessentially Spencer. Eager to keep the conversation going, you quickly typed back.

Glad you made it back safely! I had a great time too. How about this weekend? I don’t mind driving back, mom said a new cafe opened downtown…

Sending the message, you felt a flutter of excitement at the prospect of continuing to explore the budding relationship. Spencer's quick response not only showed his interest but also reassured you that the feelings were mutual, setting the stage for what could be the next of many beautiful moments together.

—

Driving into Quantico on Friday evening, you were filled with anticipation and a touch of nervous excitement. You didn’t want to risk being late for your morning date with Spencer, so you decided to spend the night at your mom’s place. It turned out to be the perfect decision, as you and Alex spent the evening together in a flurry of girlish excitement.

The night was a delightful throwback to your teenage years—painting nails, doing each other's hair, and giggling like schoolgirls over the prospect of your upcoming date.

"Do you think he’ll like this shade?" you asked, holding up a bottle of nail polish.

"Oh, definitely," Alex replied with a conspiratorial grin, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "But the real question is, will he be able to keep his eyes off you?"

You laughed, playfully rolling your eyes at her teasing. The evening passed with laughter and stories, your mom sharing her own tales of first dates and romantic adventures. It was a bonding experience that left you feeling both nostalgic and buoyant about the day ahead.

—

When Saturday morning rolled around, you were up early, butterflies dancing in your stomach. Spencer was due to pick you up at 9 AM, and as the clock ticked closer to the hour, you found yourself checking the mirror more than once to make sure everything was perfect.

Right on time, a knock echoed from the front door. Spencer’s punctuality was something you appreciated—it spoke of his character and his consideration for others. Alex opened the door, greeting Spencer with her usual warmth and a hint of teasing that seemed to run in the family.

"Good morning, Alex," Spencer greeted, standing on the doorstep with a slight nervousness that was both endearing and charming.

"Morning, Spencer. Don’t you look handsome?" Alex complimented, her eyes twinkling as she took in his outfit. Spencer had opted for his classic style—a simple cardigan over a button-up shirt. It was understated yet put-together, reflecting his thoughtful nature.

Spencer blushed at the compliment, glancing down at his clothes with a shy smile. "Do you think she’ll like it?" he asked, his tone earnest.

Before Alex could respond, you rounded the corner, catching him off guard. "I think so," you said with a playful grin. "Although I think suspenders would have really tied the whole look together."

Your teasing made Spencer chuckle, his initial nervousness dissipating in the warmth of your humor. "I’ll remember that for next time," he replied, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Alex laughed, stepping aside to let Spencer in. "Well, I’ll leave you two to it. Have a wonderful time," she said, giving you a knowing smile before retreating to give you both some privacy.

You and Spencer exchanged a quick, excited glance as he offered you his arm. "Shall we?" he asked, his voice filled with the promise of a day spent in good company.

"Absolutely," you replied, taking his arm and feeling a thrill at the beginning of what was sure to be a memorable date. The morning was bright, the air filled with the scent of blooming flowers, and the world seemed to open up before you as you stepped out the door, ready to explore the day together.

As you walked towards his car, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement, the anticipation of a new chapter with someone who had quickly become more than just an acquaintance in your life. Spencer, with his thoughtful nature and quiet charm, had intrigued you from the start, and now, with the day ahead, you were eager to see where this path might lead.

“So far, so good…” you mumbled to yourself as Spencer started driving, trying to calm your nerves with a little humor.

“What was that?” he laughed, glancing over at you with a curious smile, clearly enjoying the light-heartedness of the morning.

“Well, neither of us fell down the steps, and you haven’t crashed the car,” you joked, trying to keep things upbeat despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“Yet,” he added, winking playfully.

“Thank you for reminding me,” you shot back with a grin, your nerves easing a bit at his playful attitude.

“Just keeping your expectations in check,” he teased, his voice carrying that signature blend of intelligence and humor that you were already growing fond of.

—

When you arrived at the new café, Spencer wasted no time showing off his gentlemanly side. He quickly rounded the car to open your door, then opened the café door to let you in, a small but meaningful gesture that made your heart skip a beat. He was attentive and respectful, qualities that seemed to define him beyond his impressive intellect.

As you both approached the counter, Spencer insisted on paying for your drink and pastry, despite your playful protests. “I’ve got this,” he said with a smile, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Alright, but next time, it’s on me,” you playfully warned, accepting his kindness while making a mental note to repay the gesture in the future.

Once seated in a quiet corner booth, the cozy ambiance of the café surrounded you with the soft aroma of fresh coffee and baked goods. However, as you settled into your seat, a wave of nerves washed over you. You were sitting across from the sweetest, most intelligent man you’d ever met, who also happened to be incredibly handsome. The weight of the moment suddenly felt significant, and you found yourself worrying about making a good impression.

What if you said something wrong, and he decided this would be your last date? Or worse, what if you two started dating, and he realized later on that you weren’t worth his time? The thoughts were relentless, and you tried to push them aside, but they lingered, casting a shadow over your otherwise perfect morning.

As if sensing your unease, Spencer reached across the table, placing a gentle hand on your forearm. His touch was reassuring, grounding you in the present moment. "Penny for your thoughts?" he asked softly, echoing the words you’d used back at the pool party, his eyes full of genuine concern and interest.

You took a deep breath, smiling at his thoughtful gesture. "I'm afraid they're going to cost more than that," you replied, attempting to keep your tone light, though the hint of anxiety was still present.

Spencer’s brow furrowed slightly, showing his empathy. "You don’t have to worry. I’m here because I want to be," he said, his voice sincere and calming. "Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not as daunting as it seems."

His words offered comfort, a reminder that this date wasn’t an audition or a test but rather an opportunity to enjoy each other’s company. Spencer was someone who valued authenticity and kindness, and he was sitting here with you, eager to learn more about who you truly were.

Taking a sip of your coffee to steady yourself, you decided to share a bit of your inner turmoil. "I guess I’m just overthinking things," you admitted, meeting his gaze. "Sometimes I worry about saying the wrong thing or not living up to expectations."

Spencer nodded, understanding reflected in his eyes. "I know how that feels," he said. "But I’m really enjoying getting to know you, and there’s no pressure here. Just be yourself—that’s more than enough."

His reassurance was like a balm to your nerves, the sincerity in his eyes melting away your fears. You realized that Spencer, with all his brilliance and kindness, was just as interested in discovering the real you as you were in discovering the real him.

With that understanding, the conversation flowed more freely. You found yourselves laughing over shared interests, discussing your favorite books, and even diving into topics that revealed your mutual curiosity about the world. As the morning unfolded, you felt more and more at ease, confident in the knowledge that this was just the beginning of a meaningful connection.

—

Once you and Spencer had spent a considerable amount of time talking and enjoying each other's company in the cafe, you both realized it was probably time to head out. The two of you exchanged a knowing glance as a group of patrons eyed your now empty cups and plates, clearly hoping to claim your cozy corner booth for themselves.

Stepping out onto the bustling sidewalk, the sun was now high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the streets. The air was filled with the lively energy of a city on a Saturday morning, and the thought of ending your date felt premature.

Spencer, ever the gentleman, turned to you with a hopeful expression. "I hope this doesn't come across as too eager," he began, his eyes earnest and sincere, "but I really don't want this to end yet."

His admission made your heart skip a beat, the sincerity behind his words sparking a flutter of excitement. "I like eager, and I like you," you replied with a smile that matched his, both playful and genuine. "I don't want this to end either. What should we do?"

Spencer paused, considering his options before speaking again. "Is it presumptuous to invite you to my apartment?" he asked, his tone carefully casual, though the question carried a subtle undertone of hopefulness.

Feigning shock, you exaggerated a pout, leaning into the playful dynamic that had defined your morning together. "I knew it," you said, shaking your head with mock disapproval.

"What?" Spencer looked genuinely confused for a moment, his brow furrowing as he tried to decipher your expression.

"You just want to get in my pants," you teased, maintaining the pout for effect but letting a mischievous smile slip through.

Spencer's face flushed a deep shade of pink, his eyes widening in surprise and mild horror. "No, no, that's not— I mean, I didn't mean it like that," he stammered, scrambling to explain himself as you watched with growing amusement.

Unable to keep up the charade, you broke into laughter, the sound infectious and lighthearted. "Relax, Spencer," you reassured him between giggles, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "I'm just messing with you."

His expression softened, relief washing over him as he joined in your laughter, though still a bit flustered. "I walked right into that one, didn't I?" he admitted, shaking his head with a sheepish grin.

"You did," you agreed, playfully bumping your shoulder against his. "But in all seriousness, I'd love to see your place. And maybe continue our conversation over another cup of coffee or a game of chess?"

Spencer's face lit up at your suggestion, his enthusiasm unmistakable. "I have an excellent chess set," he said, eager to share a part of his world with you. "And plenty of coffee. My apartment is just a short walk from here."

As you strolled side by side through the lively streets, you felt a sense of anticipation building. The playful banter and shared laughter from earlier had created a comfortable atmosphere.

—

The walk to Spencer's apartment was filled with easy conversation, each of you sharing snippets of your lives, interests, and quirks. By the time you reached his building, you felt as if you'd known him for much longer than the short time you had.

Spencer led you up the stairs to his apartment, his excitement palpable as he unlocked the door and welcomed you inside. The space was neat and organized, with bookshelves lining the walls, each one filled to the brim with an impressive collection of literature.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Spencer said with a shy smile, gesturing for you to make yourself comfortable. "I apologize for the mess," he added, though the room was anything but.

"It's perfect," you assured him, taking in the cozy surroundings with genuine admiration. "I feel like I'm in a library. I love it."

Spencer beamed at your compliment, clearly pleased by your appreciation for his carefully curated space. "Would you like something to drink?" he offered, making his way to the small kitchen area. "I've got coffee, tea, or if you're feeling adventurous, I make a pretty decent hot chocolate."

"Hot chocolate sounds perfect," you decided, settling into a comfortable chair and looking around the room with interest.

As Spencer prepared the drinks, you wandered over to the chess set he had mentioned earlier, admiring the intricate design and thoughtful arrangement. When he returned with two steaming mugs, you were already setting up the pieces, eager to see how the game would unfold.

You eyed the chess pieces thoughtfully, arranging them with a bit of flair. "So, Dr. Reid," you said with a teasing lilt, "are you ready to face your greatest challenge yet?"

Spencer chuckled, running a hand through his hair and setting his pieces with meticulous care. "Are you sure you're up for it? I've been known to have a few tricks up my sleeve," he replied, a hint of mischief in his tone.

"Oh, I can handle a challenge," you grinned, meeting his gaze with equal enthusiasm. "And I’ve got a few surprises of my own."

As the game progressed, each move was accompanied by playful commentary. Spencer, confident yet humble, often narrated his strategies, while you countered with a mix of humor and mock intimidation.

"Interesting move," Spencer noted as you advanced your bishop. "Trying to catch me off guard, are we?"

"Maybe," you said with a wink, feigning innocence. "Or maybe I'm just setting a trap you'll never see coming."

Spencer raised an eyebrow, considering his next move. "I must admit, you play with a certain flair," he remarked, capturing one of your pawns. "But you might want to watch your back row there."

The banter continued as the board grew more intense, the stakes feeling delightfully high as each of you tried to outmaneuver the other.

"Are you this competitive with everything, or is it just chess?" Spencer teased, leaning back slightly as he observed the board.

"Only when I'm winning," you shot back, sticking out your tongue playfully. "I’ve heard rumors that you're quite the prodigy, though. Should I be worried?"

"Only if you hate losing," Spencer replied, his smile broadening. "Though I’m starting to think you might just be my match." Not really, but he likes you so he can pretend.

"Oh, is that so? Well, I've been known to surprise people," you said, feigning an air of mystery.

As the game drew closer to its conclusion, you both found yourselves leaning forward, caught up in the tension and excitement.

"Check," you announced triumphantly, moving your queen into a position that put Spencer's king at risk.

He looked at the board, feigning surprise. "You do realize this isn’t over yet, right?" he said, moving his king to safety.

"I know," you admitted, grinning. "But I like to keep you on your toes."

"Mission accomplished," Spencer said, making his next move with careful deliberation. "But don't think you've got me beat just yet."

—

Spencer watched with amusement as you performed a little victory dance in your chair, your eyes gleaming with triumph. He had let you win, hoping to see this very reaction—the way you lit up with glee at having outsmarted him, at least for this round. However, as your playful taunting continued, he couldn’t resist the urge to reclaim his honor on the chessboard.

“Oh, come on!” you teased, unable to suppress your laughter. “Are you really as good as everyone says you are, Dr. Reid? Because that was almost too easy!”

Spencer feigned a dramatic sigh, shaking his head with a grin. “Alright, alright. You got me that time. But I demand a rematch!” he declared, a determined glint in his eyes.

“Okay, sore loser,” you teased back, clearly enjoying the banter. “Do you have anything stronger to drink? I don’t think I can handle kicking your ass twice in a row if I’m sober.”

Playfully rolling his eyes, Spencer got up from his seat, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he headed over to his small, well-organized liquor cabinet. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey that Gideon had gifted him long ago, the label aged and promising quality.

“I have whiskey. Will that do?” he asked, holding the bottle up for you to see.

“Perfect,” you replied, your eyes lighting up at the thought of a drink to accompany the next game. “Get your little butt back over here so I can give you a real challenge.”

Spencer chuckled, the warmth in his chest growing as he poured two glasses of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light in a way that made it look almost magical. He handed you a glass before taking his seat across the chessboard once more.

“Alright, no more Mr. Nice Guy,” Spencer said with a wink, setting up the pieces with renewed determination. “This time, you’re going to see why they call me the chess prodigy.”

“Oh, I’m shaking,” you replied mockingly, taking a sip of the whiskey. The drink was smooth and rich, the perfect companion for another round of playful rivalry. “Let’s see if you can back up those claims, Dr. Reid.”

The game began anew, the atmosphere between you charged with competitive energy and a touch of alcohol-induced warmth. Spencer’s moves were precise and calculated, each one revealing the depth of his strategic mind, yet still leaving room for light-hearted commentary.

“Watch out,” he warned as he moved his knight into a threatening position. “I might just turn the tables this time.”

You narrowed your eyes, pretending to study the board intensely. “Is that all you’ve got?” you quipped, countering his move with one of your own. “I thought I’d at least have to break a sweat.”

—

The rematch began, and it wasn’t long before Spencer was expertly maneuvering his pieces, quickly putting you on the defensive. His moves were precise, and each one seemed to corner you more and more, revealing the depth of his strategic mind.

"Okay, that was just unfair," you complained, watching as another one of your pieces was captured by Spencer’s bishop.

"How so?" he asked innocently, though his eyes were sparkling with amusement. "All of my moves were legal!"

"Rematch!" you demanded, unable to hide the playful challenge in your voice.

"Another? Do you like losing?" Spencer teased, his smile widening as he prepared to set up the board once more.

"Oh, Dr. Reid…" you said, leaning in slightly, the whiskey doing wonders for the rising tension in the room. "Okay. Let's make this round more interesting then."

Spencer raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the playful edge in your voice. "How so?" he asked, leaning closer, captivated by the challenge.

"How about, for each piece you lose, you have to remove an item of clothing?" you suggested, your tone daring and mischievous.

Spencer paused, considering your proposal as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I'm listening…" he replied, his curiosity piqued.

"Say I take your pawn… you have to take off your cardigan," you explained, running your finger up his covered arm, drawing a shiver from the usually composed doctor.

"Okay…" Spencer agreed, his voice dropping to a low, interested murmur.

"And if you take mine… I'll take something off," you continued, meeting his gaze with a look that promised excitement.

The chess pieces were set, and the stakes were higher this round as you both leaned over the board, your focus split between the game and the tension that crackled between you.

Spencer's first move was calculated, his eyes flickering between the board and you. "Ready to play?" he asked, his voice laced with playful confidence.

"As I'll ever be," you replied, your heart racing with anticipation.

The game progressed with both of you taking careful yet bold moves, the stakes of the game adding an electrifying thrill to each capture.

When Spencer took your first pawn, he smiled knowingly, the whiskey giving him a touch more boldness than usual. "Looks like I get to see if you're a woman of your word," he said, gesturing to your side of the board.

True to your word, you slipped off your jacket, placing it on the back of your chair with a smirk. "I hope you're ready to reciprocate," you shot back, eyes twinkling with the thrill of the game.

With each piece lost, the room seemed to grow warmer, and the playful tension between you and Spencer heightened with each exchange. Of course, so far, you had been the only one losing clothing. After saying goodbye to your jacket, you'd lost both your shoes and socks, realizing belatedly that there were more chess pieces than articles of clothing you had on. Perhaps you hadn’t thought this through.

Spencer captured another one of your pawns, and you met his gaze with a raised eyebrow as you removed your bottoms. "You're quite the strategist," you admitted, feeling the stakes increase with each move.

"It's all about thinking ahead," he replied, his voice steady despite the thrill of the game. "And being prepared for any surprises."

Spencer couldn't help but let his gaze drift as you stood to pull your bottoms off, exposing your panties. You now stood before him in just a bra and underwear, and he was visibly stunned.

"Close your mouth, Dr. Reid; we still have a game to play," you teased, relishing the way his eyes were glued to you.

Finally, you managed to capture one of his pieces. Spencer, true to the spirit of the game, removed his cardigan, revealing his button-up shirt underneath. The simple action sent a ripple of excitement through the room, the stakes becoming more real with each move.

When Spencer captured your next piece, he watched you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. 

"Wait, you don’t actually have to do that. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable," Spencer said, his voice suddenly serious, even though his eyes betrayed his curiosity.

"What? And not follow the rules? I'm a team player, Spencer," you replied with a wink before unhooking the clasp and letting the material fall with a quiet thud. 

Spencer openly stared, mesmerized by not only your body but your confidence. You saw him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he tried to regain his composure.

"As much as I'm loving this attention, and I am," you teased, "we still have to finish."

Spencer cleared his throat and shook his head. "Right, um, yes, sorry." 

His focus was clearly affected; his strategic edge seemed to falter as the game continued. Despite his brilliance, the sight before him was a considerable distraction, and it wasn't long before you managed to capture more of his pieces. 

Piece by piece, you worked Spencer down, until he was left in his briefs, the tables having turned in your favor. Each move was accompanied by the thrill of your mutual anticipation, his eyes dancing between the board and you, admiration and vulnerability on his face.

"Checkmate," you announced, moving your queen into position with a satisfied grin.

Spencer stared at the board, the reality of his defeat sinking in, along with a sense of something more profound, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension that had been building between you.

"You played well," Spencer said, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a reluctant smile. "Better than I anticipated."

"I had a little help," you replied, a teasing lilt in your voice. 

As you both sat there, the game concluded and the stakes settled, it was clear that chess had only been the prelude to something much deeper. The room seemed to pulse with the energy of possibilities, each moment stretching out with potential.

"So," you said, leaning back in your chair, fully aware of the effect you had on him, "what now, Dr. Reid?"

Spencer's eyes met yours, the vulnerability in them replaced by a newfound resolve. "I think," he began, his voice steady despite the situation, "it's time for another round. But this time, no chessboard required."

The words hung in the air between you, an invitation to step beyond the playful game and into the realm of genuine connection. You felt a rush of excitement mingled with anticipation, your heart pounding in your chest as Spencer considered your invitation.

“Make your move, Spencer,” you whispered, your voice low and inviting, “capture the queen.”

Spencer’s eyes met yours, a flicker of hesitation giving way to a resolve that was both thrilling and tender. He stood slowly, the weight of the moment making every second seem deliberate and significant. He stepped forward, closing the distance between you with a graceful ease that belied the intensity of the situation.

As he approached, you felt a shiver of anticipation run through you, the heat between you almost palpable. Spencer placed his hands on the armrests on either side of you, his gaze steady and full of intent. The air seemed to crackle with unspoken desire, an uncharted territory waiting to be explored.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both soft and electric, a gentle yet confident movement that spoke volumes of his affection and admiration. The kiss was tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but quickly grew more assured.

You responded eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. His touch was electrifying, sending ripples of sensation through you, each kiss deepening the intimacy between you.

The kiss seemed to last forever, a timeless moment where nothing else existed but the two of you. You were aware of every detail—the softness of his lips, the faint scent of his cologne, the way his fingers gently caressed your cheek as if you were something precious and fragile.

As you pulled back slightly, breathless and exhilarated, Spencer gazed into your eyes with a look that was equal parts admiration and wonder. “Wow,” he murmured, a hint of awe in his voice. “I should have captured the queen a long time ago.”

You chuckled softly, the tension now transformed into a shared joy. “Well, I’m glad you finally made your move,” you replied, your heart racing with the thrill of what lay ahead.

Spencer leaned in and kissed you again, his touch gentle but insistent. This time, his arms scooped under your back, helping you to stand as the chessboard faded into a distant memory. He started leading you toward the bedroom, both of you stumbling slightly in your eagerness, blindly bumping into furniture and walls. The clumsiness only added to the playful atmosphere, causing you to giggle into each other’s mouths as you moved.

Once in the bedroom, Spencer gently pushed you back onto the bed, your body sinking into the softness as you propped yourself up on your elbows. You stared up at him, the beautiful man who was now crawling towards you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

Spencer's gaze was full of admiration and desire, his eyes traveling over you with a look that made you feel both cherished and wanted. He moved closer, his fingers lightly tracing over your skin, sending sparks of anticipation through you.

“Can I take these off?” Spencer asked, his fingers hovering at the edge of your waistband, his voice filled with excitement and respect for your boundaries.

“Yes, please,” you replied, breathless and eager, giving him the reassurance he sought.

With your consent, Spencer carefully pulled down your panties, his touch reverent as he took in the sight of your glistening core. His eyes were filled with awe, his gaze drinking in every detail as if committing it to memory.

“Is there anything you don’t want to do?” he asked, his voice gentle and sincere, wanting to ensure that every step was taken with your comfort in mind.

You shook your head, feeling completely at ease with him. “Yes, but I highly doubt you’re going to find any of my hard limits right now,” you replied with a soft smile, appreciating his thoughtfulness.

Spencer chuckled, a sound that was both warm and arousing, before he leaned in closer, spreading your thighs and pressing a tender kiss to your clit. His lips were soft and gentle, his touch igniting a warmth that spread through you like a slow-burning flame.

You let out a soft whine from the back of your throat, a sound that resonated with encouragement and desire. It urged Spencer to explore more, to push beyond the boundaries of what you’d both anticipated. His eyes met yours briefly, a question of permission, of eagerness to continue. You nodded, biting your lip in anticipation. 

Spencer's tongue flattened against you, and he slowly licked up the length of your core, eliciting a deep, involuntary arch of your back. The sensation was electrifying, sending ripples of pleasure through your entire body. 

Your fingers found their way into his hair, twisting gently, encouraging him with each soft pull and gasp. The gentle friction between your fingers and his scalp seemed to spur him on, pushing him to devour more of you, which made you cry out and melt beneath him.

When he made it back to your clit, Spencer paused for a moment, teasing you with soft, deliberate touches before sucking hard in a way that made you grip his hair with renewed urgency. Your body moved instinctively against him, urging him forward, craving more of the sensation that he so expertly wielded.

With each lick and suck, his face shifted deeper into you, the intimacy of the moment deepening with each shared breath and whispered curse from you. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you enveloped in a cocoon of shared sensation and mutual exploration. 

Spencer's movements were that of a man starved, he was eating you out with the fever of someone who had been craving you since the moment you met. Crazy. His jaw was open, his tongue exploring, plunging, and teasing.  

Your hips responded to his rhythm, moving in time with his licks, your body and mind in perfect harmony with his. Each touch, each suck was a conversation of its own, a dialogue of desire that required no words, only the language of touch and shared experience. 

Feeling the rise of your peak within you, you let yourself go, surrendering to the sensations, letting Spencer guide you through the intricate dance of pleasure and connection. His tongue was a constant, grounding force, leading you through each wave with skillful precision, until every thought was consumed by the spark between you. 

Your body trembled under his touch, every nerve alight with sensation, and as you reached the peak of your orgasm, your body dissolved into a mix of cries and thrusts.

Spencer's hands never left you, his touch soothing and reassuring, drawing you back into a gentle embrace as the waves of sensation began to ebb. You looked up at him, breathless and blissfully content, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that spoke of shared understanding and mutual joy. 

“Jesus Christ, where did you learn how to do that?” you breathed out incredulously, the lingering sensations from Spencer’s touch still making your skin tingle.

He chuckled softly, a playful glint in his eyes. “Well, I did win a pie-eating contest one time,” he replied with a modest shrug, the mischievous tone in his voice making you giggle.

“What flavor of pie would you say I am?” you asked, your voice filled with a teasing lilt as you watched his reaction.

“The sweetest,” he replied, a warmth in his gaze that sent a delightful shiver through you. With that, Spencer’s lips were on yours again, a fervent kiss that rekindled the heat between you. 

His hands began to explore once more, each finding a home of its own, one tracing a gentle path through your soaking wet core and the other resting firmly on your breast, tugging at your nipple. Both sensations drove you wild, the overstimulation lighting your body on fire with renewed intensity.

“Spencer!” you gasped, the word filled with plea and admiration.

“Yeah? Need something?” he mumbled against your lips, the vibration of his words adding another layer of sensation.

You babbled incoherently, unable to articulate the jumble of feelings as your mouth trailed along his jaw and neck, tasting the salt and warmth of his skin before nibbling your way down to his shoulder. You were lost in the moment, each thrust of his fingers inside of you bringing a new wave of pleasure that left you breathless.

“Ow! You little vampire,” he laughed, a playful lilt to his voice as you bit at his shoulder.

Spencer’s laughter was contagious, and you found yourself smiling, your fingers dancing lightly across his skin, eager to explore and discover. The sense of closeness and trust between you deepened with each shared touch, creating a bond that felt as though it had been years in the making.

Each touch was precise and intentional, telling of Spencer’s attentive nature, as he focused entirely on your pleasure, reading your reactions with keen insight. The way he responded to your every whimper and sigh was almost like he was playing an intricate piece of music, his fingers moving deftly across an instrument, coaxing out beautiful notes of arousal.

Your hand drifted to his hair again, tugging gently as your lips met his once more, the kiss a reflection of the emotions you couldn't quite express in words. The taste of him was intoxicating, a blend of sweetness and spice that lingered on your tongue, driving you to pull him even closer.

Spencer’s lips moved with purpose, his mouth devouring yours similarly to how he ate you out, sending ripples of pleasure that left you breathless and eager for more. His touch was both tender and electric, each kiss, thrust, twist, tug bringing you closer to the edge, where anticipation and fulfillment danced in perfect harmony.

Right when you thought you were going to have another blissful orgasm under the most beautiful man, Spencer did the unthinkable: he removed all touch. One moment, his warmth surrounded you, his hands on your skin, the next moment his touch was gone.

"Huh? What? No? Spencer? Come back!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with both surprise and desperation, reaching for him as if to tether him back to you.

He smiled down at you, that endearing blend of playfulness and intent twinkling in his eyes. "Sorry, honey. Saving that for when I'm inside you," he said, a teasing lilt in his voice as he pulled back, making a move to leave the bed.

You let out a small whine of frustration, your orgasm hanging in the air, clearly upset with his choice and impatient for him to fulfill his promise. Every nerve in your body seemed to echo your disappointment, each pulse demanding his return.

"I'm just getting a condom, calm down," he teased, a wicked grin on his face as he headed for the drawer beside the bed.

"You did this to me," you half-growled, half-laughed, throwing an arm over your face in exaggerated exasperation. "You fix it."

"Okay, okay," he laughed and surrendered, returning with the condom in hand.

"Can I put it on?" you asked, your voice carrying a note of playful mischief.

"Really?" he responded, his curiosity piqued by the offer, eyes widening slightly in pleasant surprise.

"Mhm," you nodded, the opportunity too enticing to pass up.

"O–okay," he agreed, handing the package to you with a blend of excitement and curiosity.

With the condom in hand, you slid the rubber down his cock, taking a moment to appreciate the sheer size and girth of him, marveling at the way he responded to your touch. Your fingers traced the smooth, firm contours, feeling the heat and the steady rhythm of his pulse beneath your fingertips.

You jerked him steadily now, feeling the anticipation between you crescendo as you prepared him to fuck you. Each movement was testing his patience as he leaned into the smooth, warm glide of your hand .

"Fuck, I'm ready," Spencer breathed out, the rawness of his words echoing the tension in the room, his body language speaking volumes of his readiness to continue where you had left off.

"I know," you replied, a teasing glint in your eyes as you finished, meeting his gaze with a knowing smile. "Welcome to the club."

You were nicer than Spencer, though, guiding him gently back into the space between your hips, your bodies aligning perfectly. The anticipation hung like a sweet apple, the promise of what was to come electrifying the air.

As he pushed inside of you, you let out a soft whimper, the sensation new and exciting. The warmth of his body against yours, the slow glide of his cock as he moved, each thrust was a dance of intimacy and desire, your walls clenching down around him.

The atmosphere between you was charged with a palpable energy, each of you breathless from the intensity of the moment. Spencer's eyes locked onto yours, his gaze filled with adoration and mischief. He leaned in closer, his lips just inches from your ear as he whispered in a voice thick with desire.

“Ohhh, fuck me, you feel so good,” he murmured, his words a teasing invitation wrapped in a velvet promise. His breath was warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he continued. “You’re so tight. Gonna let me stretch you?”

His tone was low and sultry, the kind that sent your heart racing and made your skin tingle with anticipation. Every syllable seemed to wrap around you, pulling you deeper into the intoxicating web he was weaving.

You felt a deep flutter of excitement at his words, your body responding instinctively to the offer he laid before you. The raw need in his voice was mirrored in your own desires, and you couldn't help but let out a soft whimper as you nodded eagerly.

“Oh, please, Spencer, please!” you implored, your voice carrying a breathy edge of desperation. The plea tumbled from your lips, fueled by the heat of the moment and the urgency of your shared longing.

The way you said his name—Spencer—was like music to his ears, a perfect harmony of hunger and surrender that urged him on. He met your gaze with a knowing smile.

Spencer's fingers returned to your clit, his touch firm and tender, anchoring you to the moment as he found his rhythm, each smack of his hips against yours bringing you closer to the edge. Your own hands explored his chest, tracing the lines of his stomach and feeling the play of muscle beneath the skin.

As the air between you hummed with anticipation, curiosity got the better of you. You let your fingers trail down Spencer's skin, your touch feather-light and exploratory. His breath hitched in his throat as you delicately pinched one of Spencer’s nipples between your fingers, marveling at the way it felt under your touch.

The sensation was new and electrifying for him, a ripple of pleasure that surged through his body and caused him to moan out loudly, his reaction unguarded and genuine. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he processed the unexpected jolt of sensation.

"My god, you are something else," he breathed, his voice filled with awe and delight at your unexpected boldness.

"Something good?" you asked, your tone playful yet genuinely curious as you continued to experiment with the effect your touch had on him.

"Something amazing," Spencer replied, his eyes opening to meet yours with a smoldering intensity. "God, I'm so into you."

The raw honesty in his voice sent a thrill through you, your own heart racing with the realization of just how much you had drawn him in. His words resonated with a sincerity that made you feel both cherished and wanted.

"Uhhh huh, me too," you admitted, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "Like you so much."

Spencer grinned, a warm, genuine smile that spoke of mutual admiration and affection. "Mmm, like you too, pretty girl," he murmured, leaning down to capture your lips in a tender kiss that spoke of everything words couldn't quite convey.

The kiss was soft and lingering, a gentle mingling of breath and sensation that deepened the connection between you. Spencer's hands found their way to your face, cradling it gently as he poured every ounce of his affection into the kiss.

Your fingers continued their exploration, tracing paths across his skin that left him shivering in delight, each touch adding another layer of intimacy to the moment. 

The world around you faded into insignificance as you lost yourselves in each other. The kiss lingered, a promise of the depth of emotion that had taken root between you, growing stronger with each passing moment.

With each glide of his cock inside you, Spencer drove you higher, the anticipation building to a fever pitch until you were both caught in a whirlwind of passion and arousal.

"Spencer, I'm so close," you murmured, your voice a soft plea as you pressed yourself closer to him, your fingers tracing over where his cock was stretching you open.

His response was immediate, his breath catching as he met your eyes, the dark desire in his gaze mirrored by your own. "Oh yeah?" he asked, his voice a low rumble, thick with intensity.

"Mhm," you confirmed, the sound of your voice wavering with need. "Please let me come, please," you begged, the urgency in your words matched by the way your body moved against his.

Spencer let out a ragged groan, clearly affected by your words and your touch. "Oh fuck, yeah beg for it," he groaned, his hands gripping you a little tighter as he relished in the moment.

"Please, I've been so good. I deserve it, please, Spencer, please!" You whined and whimpered, writhing on the bed, your desperation palpable as you sought the release that seemed just out of reach.

"Shit, okay, pretty girl," Spencer finally relented, his voice gruff with arousal. "Don't cry. You can come," he whispered, granting you the permission you needed to finally let go.

With his words, a rush of relief and excitement surged through you, the sensation of finally being able to finish overwhelming you in the best possible way. Spencer’s presence was your anchor, his touch guiding you as you moved into a realm of pure ecstacy, the culmination of everything you’d been craving. As the relief washed over you, you felt Spencer's reassuring kisses alongside your face. 

Spencer was trying his very best not to lose it in that moment, the feeling of your walls tightening around him driving him absolutely wild.

"That's it, beautiful," he murmured softly, a smile in his voice. "Let it out, so good for me."

You felt his encouragement seep into your skin, giving you the strength to ride the waves of pleasure crashing over you. "Ungh, so good for you," you managed to reply, your voice a shaky whisper as you surrendered to the moment.

Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling with affection as he looked down at you. "You okay, baby?" he asked, a playful edge to his voice as he teased you for your earlier pleas.

Breathless and blissful, you nodded, meeting his gaze with a half-smile. "Want you to come, please come inside me," you murmured, your eyes holding a mix of need and desire as you urged him on.

With that, Spencer doubled his efforts, lifting your legs above your shoulders. The shift in position only heightened the intensity of the sensations, the new angle sending fresh waves of pleasure rippling through you.

His thrusts were precise, each one sending sparks of electricity through your nerves as he worked to bring himself closer to the edge. You could feel the strength in his arms, his grip firm yet gentle as he supported you, the rhythm of his hips never faltering.

"Spencer," you gasped, your body so sensitive but so willing to let him use you for his pleasure.

Spencer leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His desire took control of him, stilling his cock inside you and emptying his spend into the condom. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in a shared moment of vulnerability.

As the intensity of the moment subsided, Spencer gently pulled away, riding of the condom and laid down beside you. The tension and passion gave way to a lighter atmosphere as you both broke into a fit of laughter, the relief and joy of the experience bubbling to the surface.

"Well, that was a hell of a first date," you giggled, turning to face him, your eyes still sparkling with the afterglow of the moment.

Spencer tried to catch his breath, a wide grin spreading across his face. "This is going to sound like a lie," he confessed, his voice still slightly breathless, "but I promise it's not—I have never done that on a first date before."

"Me neither," you replied, your laughter mingling with his as you both basked in the comfortable ease that had settled between you.

There was something undeniably genuine about the way you and Spencer had connected. It was a rare and beautiful thing, and you both knew it.

Spencer turned to you, his expression soft and sincere. "I didn't expect today to turn out like this," he admitted, his hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face.

"Neither did I," you agreed, leaning into his touch, the simple gesture filled with warmth and reassurance. "But I'm really glad it did."

"Me too," he said, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that seemed to say everything else he was feeling.

The silence that followed was comfortable and full, a testament to the connection you'd forged in such a short time. You both knew that this was only the beginning, a promising start to something that could grow into something truly special.

Spencer's fingers intertwined with yours, a silent promise of more moments like this, and as you both drifted into a contented quiet. 

The peaceful moment was broken by your phone ringing into the quiet apartment, its sudden intrusion shattering the silence you had both been enjoying. You exchanged a glance with Spencer, a silent agreement to ignore it, wanting to savor the tranquility a little longer. 

But then Spencer's phone started buzzing too, vibrating insistently from the other room. The coincidence raised your concern, and both of you quickly moved to pull on your clothes, an unspoken understanding that something might be wrong if both phones were ringing at once. 

You made your way together to the living room, the echo of your footsteps filling the space as you searched for your phones. It was then that you saw who had called. 

"It was my mom," you said, a bit of worry creeping into your voice as you checked your missed calls. She had tried reaching both of you, the notifications now blinking up at you like tiny urgent reminders. 

“Oh, shit,” you exclaimed, realizing the oversight. “I didn’t think to tell her not to wait up.”

Spencer let out a small, understanding chuckle, though there was a hint of sheepishness in his expression. “You should probably call her back before she thinks I killed you,” he suggested, half-joking but aware that Alex's motherly instincts could be running on high alert.

Nodding, you tapped your mom’s contact and brought the phone to your ear, pacing slightly as you waited for her to pick up. Spencer stood nearby, a reassuring presence as he watched you with a small smile, seemingly amused by the situation. 

"Hello?" Alex answered, her voice tinged with concern.

"Hey, Mom," you greeted, a little breathless from the urgency of the call. "Sorry about not calling. We got a bit caught up," you admitted, hoping your tone would convey that everything was okay.

"Caught up, huh?" Alex replied, her voice softening as she caught on to the undertone of your words. "I was just checking to make sure you two hadn’t gotten into any trouble."

You laughed lightly, relieved that she was more teasing than serious. "No trouble here, I promise. Just…you know, good company."

From the other side of the room, Spencer offered a thumbs-up, his playful smile widening. 

"I'm glad to hear that," Alex said, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. "I figured you might not be coming back tonight, but I wanted to make sure."

“Oh, uh, I didn’t ask…” you said, your words trailing off as you glanced at Spencer, who was now looking at you with a curious head tilt.

"Spencer, can I spend the night?" you asked, the question hanging in the air with a playful innocence.

“Yes, of course,” he replied with a warm smile, his answer immediate and sincere, clearly pleased by your request.

You giggled, feeling a flutter of excitement at his quick agreement, before turning back to your conversation with your mom.

"Thanks for checking in," you replied to Alex, feeling grateful for her thoughtfulness. "I'll be sure to call next time."

"Alright, enjoy the rest of your night. And tell Spencer hello for me."

"I will," you promised, feeling the warmth of her acceptance. "Goodnight, Mom."

"Goodnight, sweetie."

You ended the call and turned back to Spencer, who was watching you with an expression of mild curiosity and relief. 

"All good?" he asked, his tone gentle.

"All good," you confirmed, feeling a wave of affection for him and the way he seemed genuinely concerned. "She just wanted to make sure I was okay."

"Well, I'm glad she called," Spencer said, coming closer and wrapping an arm around you. "Because I would have been worried too if I didn't know where you were."

The sentiment in his words was sweet, a reminder of the genuine care that had developed between you so quickly. As you settled back into the living room, the tension of the phone calls faded away, leaving only the comfort of each other’s company. 

"Now that we have our alibi sorted," Spencer joked, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "what should we do next?"

You leaned into him, savoring the warmth and closeness, the day's events leaving you both in high spirits. With a teasing glint in your eye, you suggested, "How about we rob a bank? We’ve had great luck so far today."

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head at the idea. "You know I am an FBI agent, right?" he reminded you, his tone playful but with a hint of mock seriousness.

"I know," you replied, meeting his gaze with a mischievous smile. "And it's so sexy."

"Says the professor," Spencer countered, raising an eyebrow at you with a grin that spoke volumes about how much he enjoyed this playful banter.

You both broke into laughter, the lighthearted teasing weaving a comfortable intimacy between you. It was easy to get lost in moments like this with Spencer, where everything felt natural and right.

For the rest of the night, you continued to giggle and flirt, exchanging stories and jokes. Every shared glance and touch felt like another piece of a puzzle falling into place, creating a picture of something that promised to be both thrilling and meaningful.

As the hours passed, you found yourselves wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and companionship, the world outside fading away as you enjoyed each other's company. It was the kind of night that felt like the beginning of a wonderful adventure, one that neither of you wanted to end.

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[alexblakegf]

Alex Blake x reader sugar mommy Instagram posts 👀

Or honestly anything you are willing to give! You are so talented!

Thanks!! I haven’t posted anything for my baby alex in ages so this was long over due 😖

sugarmommy!alex blake x reader - instagram posts

taglist 🏷️:

@countqss @itisdoctortoyousir @mrsebrewster @kalixxa @fdl305 @venromanova @Ah-blossom @geekyandgay98 @Dj-bynum3718 @waitaminuteashh @daddy-heather-dunbar @hopedoesntknow @momily @Multifandomlesbianic @Inlovewithjemily @sleepingathlete @voidsaddiction @pagetsgirl @chestnutninny @greyslover3004 @lunarmoonheart @SirTerrific

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[arwenlalaith]

Mixed Signals

Ship: Alex Blake/Reader

Summary: Of course, Alex Blake, linguistics queen, dominated at dirty talk...

Word Count: 1204

Author's Note: This fills the Dirty Talk square on my @cmkinkbingo2024 card.

“When are you coming home?” you answered the phone on the first ring.

Alex’s signature husky laugh rang out. “Is that how we’re greeting each other now?” she chided. It wasn’t an outright reprimand, but it was a reprimand nonetheless. “I was hoping for something more along the lines of Hello or I’ve missed you or – if you really wanted to please me – How can I serve you, Daddy?”

You weren’t normally a petulant little brat about Alex being away so often. But every so often...say, when you were ovulating...you couldn’t help but let your bratty side take control. “Sorry, Daddy...” you mumbled, sufficiently chastized.

“What was that?” she asked. “Enunciate, Princess.”

You felt your cheeks flush with shame. “Sorry, Daddy,” you repeated, clearer this time.

“That’s what I thought. Isn’t it so much easier when you do things right the first time?” she asked, “Then I don’t have to waste time reprimanding you. If you hadn’t decided to mouth off to me, you’d be knuckle deep in your cunt right now.”

With a shuddering exhale, you nodded, then remembered she couldn’t see the gesture. “You’re right, Daddy. As usual.”

She laughed once again. “See, Princess? Was that so hard?”

You rolled your eyes (only because you knew she couldn’t see it). Deciding to start over, in a saccharine sweet voice, you said, “How can I serve you, Daddy?”

“That’s better. Why don’t you turn on your camera, so I can see my toy,” she said – and, though it was phrased like a suggestion, you knew it was not. You ran to the vanity mirror to check your appearance, taking a moment to mess up your hair just right, adjust your tank top to expose a little more cleavage, then you ran and jumped on the bed to splay out, before finally turning on your camera. “There’s my girl...” she cooed when the screen lit up with your face.

“I’ve missed you, Daddy...” your said, pouting in your most adorable manner.

It was Alex’s turn to roll her eyes. “You think I don’t know why you’re laying it on so thick?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied.

She scoffed, shook her head, but said nothing more on the subject. “Here’s what we’re going to do...” she said, “I want you to lie back and close your eyes and listen to what I’m about to say. If you can make it to the end without touching yourself, I’ll let you cum. If not, well...” She trailed off, leaving the consequences up to your imagination.

You opened your mouth as if to protest, but quickly thought better of it, laying back on your bed (making sure to pose seductively as you did so), and shutting your eyes.

“When I get home, you’re going to be naked,” she started off her tale, “I’m going to tie you to you the bed and then, I’m going to ignore you.”

“But...” you started.

She clicked her tongue scoldingly. “Did I ask for your input?” You shook your head, but remained silent. “That’s right. I’m going to ignore you while I pleasure myself until I’m satisfied...and believe me when I say that’s going to take awhile. Daddy’s sexually frustrated...”

You whined, but said nothing.

“Maybe I’ll sit on your pretty little face and let you pleasure me for awhile,” she said as if thinking to herself. She knew that was one of your favourite ways to serve her, that just talking about it never failed to get you all worked up, especially if you were completely at her mercy. “Would you like that, Princess? Do you want to put in a little face time with Daddy’s cunt?”

Whimpering, you nodded eagerly, but still remained silent.

“I thought so,” she said smugly. “Maybe – after I’ve cum all over your pretty face – I’ll inspect your pretty pussy, see how wet you are just from serving me the way you were meant to. Maybe I’ll touch it, just a little, to see how you twitch and clench and squirm in desperation...but I won’t give you what you want. Not yet anyway.”

“Then what?” you asked breathlessly before realizing you’d spoken out of turn.

She laughed, but didn’t reprimand you. “I think then I’ll get out the magic wand... As I seem to recall, you’re a big fan of that one. Right?”

Breathlessly, you nodded.

“I think I’ll turn it up to its highest setting and hold it on your clit for as long as I feel like it. I don’t care how many times you cum. I don’t care if you beg me to stop. I don’t care if you cry. I’ll keep it there until I get bored.” She could tell that you liked that idea based on the way you seemed to hold your breath in anticipation of what came next. “Once I become bored, I’ll take mercy on you...”

“Really?”

She ignored you. “It depends on your definition of mercy... I’m going to edge you.”

Your expression fell, though you quickly tried to cover it...not that you were fooling Alex.

“When I get bored of that, I’ll untie you...so that I can have you on your hands and knees in front of the mirror, since I know how much you love watching yourself be a whore,” she said. “I’m going to fuck you. I’ll start out with a small cock – one that doesn’t give you barely anything. Then, I’ll use a bigger one and then a bigger one still. I’ll stretch you out until you’re begging and pleading for mercy. Until you want to tap out. But I know you won’t because you want so badly to be a good girl for Daddy. Right?”

You nodded, squirming, desperate to touch yourself, but doing your best to earn your reward.

With a smug grin, she continued, “I’m going to use the squirting strap to cum inside you. Then, I’ll make you cockwarm me so you can feel my load inside you. And, since I don’t want to waste a drop, I’ll fuck my cum back into you, over and over again, giving you load after load like the good little cumslut you are. And I’ll keep doing it until you beg me to stop because you’re too full.”

She paused, watching you buck your hips in search of friction, of stimulation, but getting nothing. She knew how badly you wanted it and was quite pleased with the restraint you were showing.

“And, just to top it all off, you won’t be wearing any panties so you can feel me dripping out of you all. Day. Long.”

You keened then, practically sobbing in desperate need. That’s when you broke... “Please, Daddy... Please, please, please can I touch myself? I need it! Please?”

“Sorry, Princess, but I don’t go back on my word. And you were so close to making it...” She sighed dramatically. “Oh, well... I guess you’ll just have to wait ‘til I get home.”

“But?”

“No, Baby.”

You huffed, indignant and petulant and beyond sexually frustrated.

“Goodbye, Princess,” she said, finger hovering over the disconnect call button. Then, as a quick afterthought, added, “Don’t forget: I want you naked when I get home...” Then, she hung up.

[neuroprincess]

Criminal Minds Women, and how they act when they’re jealous? Thank you!

Criminal Minds - They're Jealous (Preferences)

Classification: Fluff

Pairing: Alex Blake, Elle Greenaway, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia and Tara Lewis

Warnings: None

Word count: +600

Alex Blake

4/10

- Being a more reserved and quiet person, she may not feel or show jealousy easily. However, when this happens she can react in one of two ways: stop next to you and wait for whoever is trying to gain your attention to realize that you're together, or simply be direct about it, being as calm and rational as possible. Then, in privacy and comfort, Alex will kiss you passionately, hands on waist caressing tenderly and never admitting that this reassures her more than any words could.

Elle Greenaway

7/10

- Let's say she doesn't get jealous often and it's not easy to cause it, that's what the brunette says. Elle isn't so subtle, you know immediately what's going on, because in a millisecond she changes her body expression, also gets serious and keeps silent, giving short answers. If you're at work, she'll stare blatantly, anger showing in every facial muscle. If you're in a bar or other public place, she'll just lean in and kiss you, resting her arm on your shoulder. She's certainly the most probable to pick a fight.

Emily Prentiss

5/10

- This woman would try not to let her jealousy show and would deny it to the death to anyone who asked, but she can't be as discreet as imagines. When she's jealous, the agent laughs more than she normally would and sometimes, without even realizing it, she slips out a few sarcastic phrases, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. If Emily becomes self-conscious about how is acting and reacting, she will apologize to you, a little embarrassed, and try to talk about it. Words of affirmation and physical touch are very effective ways of reassuring her, like holding hands under the table or using affectionate nicknames.

Jennifer Jareau

9/10

- Of all of them, the blonde is by far the most jealous. In addition to being easily susceptible, it's evident in every look, gesture and word, a growing anger at any provocation or inappropriate attention another person gives you. She finds it difficult to express this verbally or talk about the topic, but JJ is usually protective and very affectionate in these moments, which means arms wrapped around your body, hands held with fingers intertwined, an occasional kiss between collarbone and neck… possibly a mark in the same place will be made later, a hickey that she will constantly admire and be proud of, because you are hers and only hers.

Penelope Garcia

4/10

- Surprisingly, the hacker is jealous and doesn't make a point of hiding the fact. There are rare moments and it takes a bit of effort to happen, like when Derek calls you "Baby Girl" and she's openly bothered. At first, you both think the reason is because it's his exclusive nickname for her, only to quickly discover, in a friendly conversation, that she actually doesn't like anyone calling you affectionate names except herself, especially the sweet ones. And the man almost gets slapped on the head for teasing her on purpose. After all that, Penelope laughs and gives you a tender kiss, calling you all the sweet names she can think of, delighted to see you blush with some of them.

Tara Lewis

2/10

- Jealousy isn't on her agenda, even if you've been in a relationship for years it's possible to count on one hand how many times she's been jealous. If it does happen she's super chill during the whole thing, you hardly notice except for that familiar smile that doesn't really reach the eyes and fingers stroking down your forearm tortuously slow, believe, Tara doesn't even realize what she's doing until someone tells her. The topic is brought up in a pleasant conversation, with a few laughs and kisses, which surely ends in a cuddling session.

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[casedclosedbye]

The Birthday Overload

Aaron hotchner x reader

Fluff

Wc: 1.5k

It was your birthday, and Aaron Hotchner had promised to get you something special. But what you didn’t expect was for him to get everything you might want… and then some.

You were sitting on the couch, casually scrolling through your phone, when Hotch came back into the apartment, looking slightly frazzled. His arms were weighed down with what seemed like an endless number of shopping bags.

“Hotch, you okay?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at the sight of him struggling to make his way through the door.

He sighed deeply, his usually composed demeanor faltering just slightly. "I… I might’ve gotten a little carried away," he admitted, setting the bags down with a soft grunt, clearly relieved to unload the weight.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his predicament. "What do you mean by ‘a little carried away’?"

"Well," he began, glancing at the mountain of bags, clearly weighing how to explain the madness, "I started with something simple. I thought you’d love this sweater." He pulled out a cozy-looking grey sweater. "But then I worried it might be too plain. So, I bought a pair of boots to go with it."

You eyed the boots, noticing how perfectly they complemented the sweater. Before you could even comment, he dug deeper into one of the bags. "But then I thought, maybe the boots weren’t quite your style. So I grabbed these instead."

Out came a pair of sleek, stylish shoes that could match any outfit in your closet. You stared, dumbfounded, unsure of how to respond to this growing pile of gifts.

"And then," he continued, “I realized, do you even *like* grey? So I bought this." He pulled out a rich, red scarf that contrasted sharply with the muted tones of the sweater and boots. It was elegant, and you could already picture yourself wearing it on a chilly night out.

You blinked a few times, still trying to process the sheer volume of thought he had put into this. "Aaron, you didn’t have to—"

"Oh, wait," he interrupted again, his hands diving back into the bags with renewed determination. "Then I thought you might want something more personalized, so I got you this." He pulled out a beautiful, intricately carved wooden jewelry box. "But then I worried, do you even wear enough jewelry to need a box? So I got you these."

He reached for yet another bag, pulling out two delicate bracelets that shimmered as they caught the light.

You chuckled softly, thoroughly entertained by his internal struggle and sweet yet chaotic effort. "Aaron, I love you, but how many more things did you buy?"

He paused, his expression a mix of determination and uncertainty as if he was working his way through some kind of mental checklist. "Well, I kept thinking maybe you’d want some skincare products." With that, he pulled out an assortment of creams, lotions, and face masks, all neatly packaged and looking as though they belonged in a high-end boutique. "And then," he continued, as if he’d just remembered something crucial, "I got candles. Because, you know, everyone likes candles."

More bags appeared, each one seemingly holding yet another thoughtful item. A plush scarf, a novel you’d mentioned wanting to read, a bag of your favorite snacks from the store, and, as if on cue, the exact blanket you’d been eyeing the other day when you’d made a passing comment about how soft it felt.

You couldn’t help but laugh again, overwhelmed but incredibly touched. "Aaron… I think you’ve gone above and beyond."

Hotch gave you an exasperated yet endearing look, finally sitting down beside you, clearly relieved to have finished unboxing his extensive haul. He ran a hand through his hair, his brow furrowed in mild frustration, but with a fondness for you in his eyes. "I just wanted to get you something you’d really love," he admitted, "but I couldn’t decide what you’d like the most. So… I just kept going."

You kissed his cheek softly, your heart swelling with warmth. "Well, you definitely succeeded. It’s perfect."

He smiled, still a little unsure but clearly relieved. "I’m glad," he murmured, his voice softer now. "I was really worried you wouldn’t like something or it wouldn’t be… enough." His gaze flicked to the pile of presents that now took up most of the space between you both.

You gave him a playful side-eye, though your voice was filled with affection. "Aaron, it’s my birthday. I’m pretty sure I’m going to love everything… even if it takes me a week to unpack it all."

He chuckled, his tension finally easing as he leaned in closer, resting his head against yours. "As long as you’re happy."

You snuggled against him, surrounded by shopping bags and the overwhelming feeling of being loved. Hotch’s gift-giving might have been a little over the top, but you couldn’t deny that the thought, the care, and the genuine desire to make your birthday special had come through in every item.

You felt the warmth of his affection settle around you like the softest blanket, and for the first time in a long while, you simply *relished* in the moment. This wasn’t about the presents or the excessive effort; it was about his commitment to making sure you felt appreciated, to ensuring you were happy, no matter how many bags it took to do that.

The pile of gifts scattered around you was just a symbol of how much Aaron cared, a reminder that love wasn’t always about grand gestures, but sometimes, about going overboard to show someone they meant the world to you. And right now, you couldn’t think of a better way to spend your birthday than in his arms, feeling more loved than you’d ever felt before.

You leaned back into him, content and at peace, knowing that no matter how many presents you opened, the best gift was always going to be him.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

CM Autumn Air Challenge

The following are prompts including the theme of Autumn! Reader, Original Character, Character/Character ships, Gen/Platonic fics are allowed!

This event is over (Masterlist of Fics here), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!

General Prompts

Characters fight over the perfect pumpkin.

Characters share a bale of hay on the hayride.

Character A helps B cope with the lack of sunlight.

The BAU takes a holiday trip to Rossi’s hunting cabin.

Character A “helps” B with baking for the Fall Festival.

Character A is shocked by how cold B’s hands get in Fall.

Character insists on getting the perfect apple. And then they fell on their ass.

The BAU’s Missed Holiday Meal is the first family meal Character's ever enjoyed.

It’s unseasonably warm, but that won’t stop Character from wearing fall sweaters.

Character A tells spooky stories around the bonfire. Now B is afraid to sleep alone.

or anything else you can think of!

Halloween Prompts (SFW)

Wait. That isn’t fake blood. Oh no.

Character has a “secret admirer” for Halloween.

Character A thinks B is in costume… they are not.

Characters argue about the accuracy of a costume.

Character A hates Halloween. B tries to change that.

Character A grabs the wrong hand in a haunted house.

Character is very brave while watching the horror movie.

Character A catches B’s wardrobe malfunction seconds before disaster.

Keep reading for more prompts + rules!

Halloween Prompts (NSFW)

Character's costume is multipurpose.

It’s okay. Screaming is normal on Halloween.

Characters have sex... with the costumes on.

Period sex is, in a way, thematically appropriate.

Character A’s costume is awakening something in B.

Character A dresses as B’s fantasy to fuck with them.

Character A’s obsession with lollipops is becoming a serious problem for B.

Dialogue Prompts

"That is NOT a horror movie."

"Wait, are you afraid of the dark?"

“You’re scarier without the mask.”

“Am I meant to be afraid or aroused?”

“No way, you’re a fan of (sports team)?!”

“Gourds are very versatile.” “You look insane.”

“If the leaves are allowed to change, so are you.”

“My costume is not cute. It’s scary and powerful.”

“Stop looking at me like that. The candlelight is for dramatic effect, not romance.”

Your fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character. AUs and crossovers are more than welcome.

Tag me in the fic, or send the link to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge - I collect both! You can also tag “#mentioningmargins”

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed. Please also include some indication of rating if it is NSFW.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post. For xReader fics, PLEASE specify if your reader is Female, Male, or Gender Neutral.

Have fun!

Happy Writing!