Birdie

Current comfort drama! 🫶

Comedy ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Action ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Cha Eunwoo as Lee Unjeong The Wonderfools, ep. 1

+ bonus

I guess you felt a little bad.

so reader is a new forensic scientist that started a lab in office for easier analysis of evidence (garcia reasonablism and best friendedness obviously) and earlier seasons reid likes to go in and hang out with her often and just be with her and they are both idiots in love and the first kiss is super rushed and akward; TEETH ROTTING FLUFF

i am too cryptic i fear but i will sell my left kidney for this fic PLEASE

spencer reid x forensic scientist!reader. fluff. 1.4k words. s1 spence!! descriptions of a case (typical cm stuff). std discussion? sorta? it's about a victim. reader doesn't have one don't worry. they're nerds your honour. 

a/n: i am SO sorry this took me so long?? writing fluff is not my strong suit (clearly). i researched bacteria for this fic. and std's. if penelope garcia looked up my search history she would ask why i'm asking about how to treat chlamydia. if the science talk is wrong, no it's not this is MY alternate reality. also i am but a wee acting major i know nothing about science? ANYWAYS thank u for the request angel it was so fun to write i hope i did it justice ♡ 

"Hey... I brought coffee."

Your head lifted from the computer screen you had been staring at for the past hour and a half, blinking your eyes to readjust to a light that wasn't blue — you were a big believer in warm toned overhead lights or nothing, and it was your first order of business upon getting a lab in the Quantico building. 

Your eyes softened upon recognising the man in your doorway, and your hands outstretched towards him to take the paper cup from him. 

in which you kiss your best friend when the clock hits midnight, you feel bad, but he’s all too forgiving.

pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: fluff tags: alcohol consumption (who's shocked). kissing. best friend!spencer reid. avoidant reader. teensie bit of angst but it is resolved and i've even kissed you on the forehead by the end. word count: 2.8k a/n: take a shot every time i post a fic with parties and alcohol. happy belated new years!!! i wish i had spencer reid to kiss at midnight </3

Past midnight on New Year's is uncharted territory. Fireworks have stopped lighting up the sky, the excitement of waiting for the clock to hit 12 and the date to flip over into the new year fades, and everybody starts heading home, or out. 

Unless, of course, you're you, and you've spent the entire night already fizzling with anxiety, your stomach weighted with a bed of uncertainty. 

You've made your rounds to the groups of people you've otherwise not spoken to since they arrived, directed people you've never even met before to your bathroom, and wished you were just a little bit more sober so you could have the motor skills required to clean up the tray of sandwiches that now sits scattered on your kitchen floor. 

Will I See You Again? — SR

｡𖦹°‧ in which you meet dr spencer reid at the fbi academy

spencer reid x fem!reader

genre: fluff / wc: 1.1k

cw: reader has a medical degree and decided to change career paths, no use of y/n.

a/n: this is the first time i've ever finished something i wrote creatively!! please let me know what you think, any thoughts are welcome! i apologize for any mistakes, english isn't my first language and i obviously never attended the fbi academy, this is just some silly fanfiction! i think it gets a little better towards the end! hope you enjoy :) gifs by @reidgif <3

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

The fluorescent lights buzzed above your head as you skimmed through the thousandth behavioral neuroscience textbook chapter you’d read that day. At least it felt like the thousandth. It’s not like you minded it, though. You’d fallen into a rabbit hole that mixed your medical knowledge and the Academy’s recommended readings, which made your heart warmer. You’d made the right choice.

“I think they’re about to kick us out.” The quiet of your corner library table suddenly shattered and you looked up, startled. Standing in front of you was a tall, lanky and slightly disheveled figure of a man who looked weirdly boyish to be there. 

Cute, you thought.

“Excuse me?” Your own answer made you cringe a little, as you’d perfectly understood what he said. You had a tendency to do that, it was like you were giving your anxious mind more time to come up with a proper response — or maybe you just needed some sleep. 

“The— um, the staff. They could kick us out any minute. It’s almost ten now.” He ended his sentence with an endearing tight lipped smile, and you noticed he was a bit nervous too. You stayed still, blinking at him as he really looked at you.

“Right.” You responded, almost whispering, feeling the weight of his gaze hover above you — you, your notes and the books surrounding you. Suddenly, you felt stupid.

Spencer couldn’t help but watch you — or carefully observe, he’d argue. He noticed how you kept spinning your pointer finger ring; how you slightly narrowed your eyes while reading the textbook, which made him wonder if you needed to wear glasses but chose not to. He’d probably advise you to not do that — if he got the chance to, that is.

“I’m Dr Reid. Well, technically, Dr Spencer Reid, but that’s too formal. Spencer. Just Spencer.” The way he talked immediately made you smile. Turns out he was even more nervous than you were. Good. 

You then realized, observing the faint crease in his eyebrows, that you’d been staring at him in complete silence. That soft look on his face, highlighted by the uncomfortably bright lights above you, almost made the fact of him being a doctor, too, fly over your head. Why were you acting this way? 

In order to break the awkward atmosphere you’d created, you finally told him your name, sheepishly smiling. You swore you could see the weight dropping off of his shoulders. 

“You’re an MD as well?”, you asked. 

“I, uh— I’m not.  I have three PhDs, actually.” Now that made you want to laugh. How on Earth did this man have 3 PhDs? He’d have to start college at what? Thirteen? That simply wasn’t possible. 

“You’re kidding. Three?” at that, he simply nodded; not in a smug way though. 

“What were you reading about? I mean, you looked very absorbed in it before I interrupted you. Not that I was watching you. I wasn’t. That would be super weird.” he started rambling, adorably so.

After saying that, Spencer started looking for signs of annoyance in your face, small hints that you wanted the conversation to be over and for him to leave. Maybe he shouldn’t have interrupted you, you were probably leaving anyway, and— 

His thoughts were interrupted by your soft laugh. You weren’t laughing at him, not exactly, he could tell that much. Still, all his IQ of 187 gathered was that he wanted to hear that sound once again, hopefully being the cause of it.

Slowly, you turned your book around for him to see it, your face bearing a grin he felt compelled to mirror. It said:

The Criminology Of The Amygdala 

Relations to psychopathy, callous-unemotional traits and antisocial behavior

“Guess I just missed the neurology struggle back at school and got caught up in this,” you started, smiling. “It’s really interesting though, I promise! If you’d, uh— like to get into it someday, Spencer.”

Spencer’s stomach fluttered as he listened to your animated tone while talking about the topic (and saying his name, but he wouldn’t admit that), paired with the slight glow in your eyes, too. You did, in a way, remind him of himself when he talked about his interests. He then realized he wanted to share them with you someday, if you'd like. 

“I believe you! It sounds like it, really.” He responded.

“And did you know that the amygdala plays different roles in different types of aggression?”, he continued, “I mean, studies have shown that in individuals who present lower amygdala volume, the detection of cues of potential danger may cause violent outbursts more often than in those who don't. It’s fascinating, really. I can see why you’d be absorbed in this.” 

At this point, he remained totally clueless to the obvious admiration blooming on your face, as you were completely captivated by his hand gestures (only then you paid attention to his hands, and shortly after had to tell yourself to focus), how he talked a little too fast, and the actual depth of his knowledge on that matter. 

“Liar!”, you laughed, “You told me you weren’t a doctor! How did you know that?”

“I— I just read a lot! I swear I didn’t lie to you!” 

It had been a while since a man got you giggly like that. Giggly. 

God, this is embarrassing, you thought.

“You guys, we’re closing. Don’t wanna stay stuck here, do ya?”

Both of your heads snapped simultaneously towards the lovely librarian (who’d let you borrow one too many books at once) announcing what he had come to tell you before. It was almost bittersweet — you were aware that it didn’t mean some sort of farewell from Spencer or anything. Even so, talking to him did feel a little too easy. You just wouldn’t mind repeating it, not at all.

“Oh! Right, sorry,” you responded to her, rapidly organising your things. 

Spencer nodded at her with a sheepish smile on his face, then turned to help you gather your stuff, which you acknowledged with a quiet “thanks”, without looking up at him — unconsciously preventing him from spotting the faint blush on your cheeks, a result of his kind gesture and the sudden proximity between you.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you nodded towards the door, as if you were silently asking if he’d come with you. And he did. 

When you were finally out, you turned to him, and, gathering all your courage (who are you without a little dramatic flair, anyways?), said:

“See you around, Dr Reid?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, “I hope so.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

pairings: early season!spencer reid x profiler!reader

theme: hurt to comfort

summary: thinking spencer didn’t have even an ounce of a crush on her, when in reality, he was already picturing his entire life with her.

content warnings: none!

a/n: Always soft for my early seasons Spencey! Anyway, requests are open, my dearest!

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹

masterlist

The SUV was quiet in the way only stakeouts ever were, engine humming low, radio muted, the outside world reduced to shadows and passing headlights. The city breathed around them, unaware of the two agents sitting in the dark, waiting for violence to announce itself. She leaned back in the passenger seat, exhaustion settling into her bones. It had been a long case. Long interviews. Long hours. Too many bodies, too many reasons to be tired in ways sleep couldn’t fix. She glanced sideways at Spencer, who sat with his head tipped back against the headrest, eyes fixed on the ceiling, fingers tapping lightly against his knee in an absent rhythm. He always looked like this during stakeouts, half present, half somewhere else. Overthinking, almost sarrying the weight of the world like it was something he’d personally misplaced. She liked that about him. Loved it, if she were honest. She’d been doing that for a while now. Loving him quietly from a distance that felt safe enough not to ruin what they already had.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed the way her chest tightened whenever he smiled at her, or how she always found herself angling her body toward him in rooms full of people. It wasn’t that she didn’t replay his words later at night, cataloging the way he spoke her name, soft, like it mattered, but because she knew better. If he were to notice any girl in the room, it would most definitely not be her.

Everyone noticed it too, even if no one talked about it outright. The way Spencer had looked at JJ once upon a time, hopeful and unguarded. The way he cared for her in that quiet, aching way that lingered long after the feelings were supposed to fade. Even if he’d moved on, even if time had dulled the edges, she couldn’t shake the certainty that she would always come second to a girl like that. So she never said anything. Never crossed the line. Instead, she stayed where she was, close enough to feel him, far enough not to scare him away. Tonight, though, the quiet pressed in on her chest, and she needed something human.

“What’s your sunsets like, Spence?”

The question slipped out before she could second-guess it. Spencer blinked, then rolled his head toward her, eyebrows knitting together.

“Sunsets?” She grinned, mirroring his movement and letting her head rest against the seat. “Your future. What do you want to see in ten or twenty years when you sit on your front porch as the sun sets? Wife? Kids? Dog? Cow?”

“Cow?” he echoed, incredulous.

“You know what I mean.”

He laughed, his first real laugh of the day, soft and surprised, the sound loosening something tight in her chest. “Mmm. I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He hesitated, fingers stilling. “I think… the thing about kids is kind of weird for me. I don’t know if I’d be a good dad. I really didn’t have the best foundation for that.”

Her heart clenched. “Are you kidding me, Spence?” she said immediately, turning toward him. “I’ve seen you with Jack. That one time Hotch brought him to the office? You were incredible.”

He flushed instantly, color blooming across his cheeks. “Really?”

“Yes. You were patient and gentle, and you talked to him like he was an adult without making him feel small. I saw his eyes light up when you showed him that magic trick, could imagine your kids' eyes light up the same way.”

Spencer bit his lower lip, trying not to smile. She saw that? he thought. “I don’t know. I think I’m scared to think about things of the future.”

She softened. “Okay,” she said gently. “If you weren’t scared… how many kids would you want?”

He stared at the ceiling again, thinking hard. It takes him a minute to answer. “Six.”

Her jaw dropped. “Spence, you animal! Six?!” He laughed, covering his face with one hand. “What? You asked! And it’s not like anyone would get with me.”

Something in her chest cracked open. She looked at him in disbelief.

“Spencer Walter Reid,” she said firmly, “anyone would get with you.”

He turned away quickly, eyes fixed on the dark street outside the window. She watched the way his shoulders pulled, like he was folding himself smaller, safer.

“Anyway,” he continued, voice quieter, “I see myself with two dogs, and six kids, and a wife who wouldn’t mind me talking and reading.”

She smiled despite the ache. “That’s a nice sunset, Spence.”

He glanced at her. “How about you?”

Her breath caught. This was dangerous territory, but she answered anyway, honesty spilling out in pieces she could pretend were harmless.

“Well,” she said slowly, “I see myself in a small house in the city. I like the sound of cars and people; it makes me feel less alone. Maybe two kids. Max three.” She hesitated, then added with a small laugh, “I want a husband who’s tall, smart, kind, and handsome. So our kids would look good and be so stinking smart too.”

The words hung between them. Spencer went very still. She realized too late how closely the description matched the man sitting beside her. Tall. Brilliant. Kind to a fault. Handsome in that quiet, unassuming way, people only noticed once they stopped looking for something louder. She glanced at him. He was staring out the window, jaw tight, like he was trying to solve a problem that didn’t have an equation. Spencer thought about how beautiful that life sounded. Thought about a city house filled with noise and laughter, children running through hallways, books piled on tables, dogs at their feet. Thought, dangerously, about how natural it felt to picture himself there.

With her.

But he dismissed it just as quickly. She talked like that because she was comfortable with him, because she trusted him. After all, he was safe. She deserved someone confident. Someone who didn’t stumble over his own feelings or overthink every word. Someone like, well?

Not him.

Before he could respond, Morgan’s voice crackled through the walkie.

“Guys, it’s time to move.”

The moment shattered. She straightened, professionalism sliding back into place. As they stepped out of the car, she cast one last glance at Spencer, wondering if he’d heard what she’d really said. Maybe someday, she thought, they’d circle back to sunsets, and maybe someday, he’d realize she’d been standing in his place the whole time.

The next time they were together, it wasn’t alone in the dark of an SUV. It was loud and crowded. Spencer hated bars. He hated the sticky floors, the way strangers leaned too close, the smell of spilled alcohol and sweat clinging to the air. He hated how careless people were with their hands, with their drinks, with personal space. He’d only agreed because Morgan had insisted. After all, Penelope had promised it would be “fun,” and also because she’d be there. That part mattered more than he was willing to admit. The moment they stepped inside, she slipped away from the group with practiced ease. While Morgan and Penelope headed straight for the bar and Hotch lingered behind them, she beelined for a corner table. She didn’t think anyone noticed. She pulled wipes and a bottle of To-Go Lysol from her bag, quickly and discreetly, swiping down the tabletop, the backs of the couches, the armrests. Efficient. Thorough. Careful not to draw attention to herself.

Spencer noticed immediately.

He watched from a distance, heart doing something strange in his chest. He wondered if she was as much of a germaphobe as he was, if maybe she just hid it better, but if he was being honest, dangerously honest, he hoped she was doing it for him. The thought made his stomach bubble, warm and nervous. By the time the rest of the team arrived with drinks in hand, she’d already tucked the wipes away and settled into her seat, expression casual, like she hadn’t just quietly made the space safer. Their eyes met briefly. She smiled. He looked away too quickly.

JJ was running late. She’d texted that she had to finish a report, something about paperwork refusing to end. They all groaned, but settled in anyway, drinks clinking, conversation flowing easily. She tried to relax. She really did, but time ticked painfully slow. When JJ finally arrived, everything shifted. The door opened, and instinctively, every head turned. JJ was stunning, effortlessly so. She greeted Morgan first, then Penelope, then Hotch, then her, laughter following her like a familiar echo. Across the table, she watched Penelope nudge Spencer sharply, whispering something teasing into his ear. Morgan followed suit, grinning, eyebrows wagging in a way that made the implication painfully obvious.

"Go make your move," Morgan whispers into Spencer's ear, making him shift away uncomfortably.

She dropped her gaze immediately, ducking her head as she lifted her margarita. She drank faster than she meant to, lime biting at her tongue, the alcohol burning just enough to distract from the ache spreading through her chest. Spencer noticed that too. He frowned slightly, watching the way she suddenly went quiet, how her shoulders drew in. A thought flickered through his mind, unbidden, confusing.

Was she… jealous?

The idea made no sense. JJ wasn’t anything to him anymore. She was a friend. A colleague. Someone he cared about, yes, but not like that, and even if she were jealous—why would she be?

It wasn’t like she liked him. Right?

JJ slid into the booth beside Morgan, smiling easily, thanking them for waiting. Before Spencer could stop himself, before he could think through the implications, he stood.

“Oh—uh—here,” he said awkwardly, pulling his chair back. “You can have my seat.” He dragged another chair over, settling himself beside JJ.

Morgan howled. Penelope clapped. Even Hotch smiled, albeit small, it was amused, almost approving.

The sound hit her like a physical blow. If even Hotch liked it, she thought faintly, then maybe she never had a chance at all. She forced a laugh, joining in with the teasing, masking the sting with noise. She smiled when expected to, nodded along to the conversation, but the warmth she’d felt earlier was gone, replaced by something hollow and sharp. It didn’t take long before she stood.

“I—uh—I should probably head out,” she said lightly. “I need to wake up early tomorrow. I’m visiting my mom.”

Everyone had expressed their dissatisfaction, each one trying to convince her to stay longer, but she declined. Spencer’s head snapped toward her.

Confused, he searched her face for something, anything, that might explain the sudden shift. “Oh,” he said softly. “Okay.” She smiled at him, small and polite and distant, then waved goodbye to the rest of the team, promising rain checks and future drinks. As she walked away, Spencer’s mind snagged on the words she’d said. He remembered, too clearly, how just two days ago she’d told him her mom was in Vietnam, on a girls’ trip with her aunts. He remembered because she’d laughed when she said it, because he’d asked questions, because he always did.

He watched the door close behind her. He told himself it didn’t matter. That she was probably just tired. That he was overthinking it, as usual. Still, his chest ached. He wished so badly that he could follow her, or that she’d stayed instead.

Then came the eve of Valentine’s Day.

Garcia’s apartment was warm and loud and overflowing with pink, string lights shaped like hearts, cupcakes frosted too sweet, music playing just a little too happily. It was meant to be comforting, celebratory. A reminder that love existed in many forms. For her, it felt like walking into a room she already knew she didn’t belong in. She sat curled into the corner of the couch, drink untouched in her hand, watching as Morgan leaned far too close to Spencer, whispering something with a grin that spelled trouble. Penelope hovered nearby, eyes bright, practically vibrating with excitement.

Spencer looked overwhelmed. He kept adjusting the sleeves of his sweater, nodding along like someone being talked into something he didn’t fully understand. She felt a slow dread settle in her stomach. Morgan clapped a hand on Spencer’s shoulder and gave him a final push, literal and figurative. Before Spencer stood, before Morgan’s encouragement fully took hold, he hesitated. His gaze drifted, unconsciously, instinctively, across the room to her.

She was sitting quietly on the couch, fingers worrying at the hem of her sleeve, eyes fixed on her hands like they were the most interesting thing in the world. She hadn’t noticed Morgan’s teasing or Penelope’s barely contained excitement. She looked small in that moment. Withdrawn. Somewhere else entirely. Spencer watched her for a beat too long. A ridiculous, hopeful thought crossed his mind, that she might look up, that their eyes might meet, that she’d say something. Anything. A joke. A question. His name. Something that would give him a reason to stay exactly where he was. He wished, hoped, heck, even prayed, stupidly, that she would stop him. That she would make a scene and declare her love for him, but she didn't. In his heart, he knew she wouldn't, but he still hoped, and Spencer, who had never been good at reading the spaces between things, mistook her silence for disinterest.

So when Morgan nudged him again, when Penelope’s eyes went wide in encouragement, he swallowed his uncertainty and because Spencer Reid had never been particularly good at saying no to the people he loved, he stood. JJ was laughing at something Emily said when Spencer approached her. Her breath caught. He held out two movie tickets and a rose, one that was clearly borrowed from Garcia’s vase. It was stiff. Awkward. Rehearsed in the way things were when they weren’t born from instinct but from pressure.

“Uh—JJ,” he said, voice careful. “I was wondering if you’d maybe want to—um—go to the movies with me tomorrow?”

The room seemed to hold its breath. JJ blinked, surprised, then smiled. “Yeah, Spence. I’d like that.” Applause erupted. She watched it all happen with her own eyes, and it felt like being punched straight through the chest. Penelope wrapped her in a hug immediately, squeezing tight. “Oh my god, look at them!” she whispered excitedly. “They look so cute together, don’t you think?”

She turned to Penelope and smiled, bright, convincing, practiced. “Yeah,” she said softly. “They do.”

The words tasted like gravel in her mouth, because if she was being honest, she wished it were her instead.

Valentine’s Day came, and she spent it alone. Just her house, quiet and still, and her thoughts replaying scenes she wished she’d never seen. Spencer’s nervous smile. JJ’s surprised laugh. The way it all fits together is too neat. Her mind betrayed her, circling back to that night in the SUV. The sunset. Was JJ the wife he’d imagined? Was she the one sitting on that porch with him someday? The woman who wouldn’t mind him talking and reading? The mother of his six children? The thought was absurd.

By noon, she couldn’t stand being inside anymore. It was eating her alive to be in the four walls of her home, where all she could think about was Spencer. If she was going to wallow, she decided, she could do it properly, outside, with her favorite hot dog and an extra-large cup of boba. She deserved that much. So she pulled on a hoodie and jean shorts, grabbed her keys, and walked the ten minutes to the park near her house. She bought the food on the way, the weight of it warm and grounding in her hands. She found a bench facing the pond, ducks gliding lazily across the water, and geese honking obnoxiously at passing children. Couples walked hand in hand, laughing softly, leaning into each other like it was the easiest thing in the world. She tried not to imagine Spencer and JJ doing the same. Tried not to wonder if he’d picked her up. If they’d liked the movie. If he’d hugged her afterward. If—God—if they’d kissed. She shook her head, forcing the thoughts away.

Maybe it was time to move on. Was it ever really just a crush? Would it hurt this much if it were? She didn’t have an answer. Two o’clock slipped into three. Three into four. By five-thirty, the sun hovered low in the sky, painting the water gold. She sucked at her now-empty boba cup, fishing for the last pearls, debating whether to go home or stay and watch the sunset. It was peaceful here.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice she knew too well to mistake.

“This seat taken?”

Her heart stuttered. She looked up, and there he was.

The man of her just-now thoughts, and always thoughts. Spencer Reid.

He stood beside the bench like he wasn’t quite sure he was allowed to be there, hands tucked into the pockets of a soft gray sweater that read Caltech across the chest. She blinked at him, stunned, not just by his presence, but by the fact that he was wearing something that wasn’t a dress shirt or a vest. The pullover fit him in a way that made her knees weak and her heart thump loud enough she was certain he could hear it.

“Spence?” she breathed. “What are you doing here?”

He smiled, small and nervous, eyes drifting toward the pond instead of her. The sun was lowering now, turning the water molten gold. “I thought you might be,” he said quietly. “The hotdog stand’s near here, and you mentioned once you liked the ducks.”

Her throat tightened. She turned fully toward him. “Spencer… why aren’t you with JJ?”

He didn’t answer right away. He sat down beside her instead, leaving just enough space between them to feel intentional. His gaze stayed on the horizon, watching the sun sink inch by inch.

“Have I ever told you what my sunsets look like?” he asked softly, changing the topic.

She frowned, confused. “Spencer—” She tries again.

He finally looked at her then, eyes earnest, almost pleading. She stopped herself, swallowed, and nodded instead.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Six kids. Two dogs. A wife who doesn’t mind reading and listening to you talk.”

She turned back toward the pond, afraid of what she might see on his face if she looked any longer.

“I think,” Spencer said gently, “I want to change it.”

Her breath hitched. They sat in silence for a beat, the kind that felt fragile, like it might break if either of them moved too fast.

“I told JJ I wouldn’t make it today,” he continued. “I told her the truth...that what I did wasn’t really me. That I let myself be pushed into something because I didn’t want to disappoint anyone.”

Her heart started to race.

“She told me she knew,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “She said she understood. She always does.”

She stayed quiet, afraid that if she spoke, the moment would disappear.

“So,” Spencer went on, fingers fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve, “about my sunset…”

He took a breath. “I see a small house in the city,” he said. “Somewhere loud. Somewhere alive. Two kids, maybe three. I think three, actually.” He huffed a nervous laugh. “Because the wife I have in mind is so beautiful, I might want more of her.”

Her world stopped. That wasn’t his sunset. That was hers.

She turned to him slowly, heart in her throat. “Spencer…”

"I already know she'd be okay with me reading for hours on end and my incessant talking because even without being mine, she patiently sits. Watching me, listening, with a smile. No hint of impatience or annoyance. Not even a little bit."

He finally faced her fully, eyes soft and unguarded in a way she’d never seen before. “I want you in my sunsets,” he said simply. “I always have. I just… didn’t think you wanted to be there with me.”

“I thought you wanted someone else, I thought you wanted her,” she admitted quietly.

Spencer shook his head, almost smiling at himself. “I’m not very good at knowing when someone cares about me like that,” he said. “But I’ve never felt safer with anyone than I do with you. Not anyone else, just...you.”

She laughed, trying to hide the blush taking over her entire face, and the smile forming her lips. “You’re crazy,"

“And yet,” he said gently, “here you are.”

He hesitated, then slowly reached for her hand, giving her plenty of time to pull away. She didn’t. Their fingers intertwined easily, like they’d been meant to find each other all along, like it was always meant to be together. They turned back toward the pond together, watching the sun finally dip below the horizon, painting the sky in soft pinks and golds. Ducks drifted past. Children laughed somewhere in the distance. The world kept moving, but for once, neither of them felt left behind.

Spencer squeezed her hand, just once.

“That’s a really nice sunset,” she said softly.

He smiled, warmth spreading through him. “It’s my favorite one so far.”

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹

THINKING ABOUT taking a vacation with spencer reid

౨ৎ never in his life has your boyfriend taken a vacation. ever. apart from when he takes a couple of days off to visit his mom, he never felt the need to.

౨ৎ but you made him change, in many more ways than one. and as he said to you “you’re the only person worth so much of my time.”

౨ৎ so you surprise him with the trip. you plan it all so that he can relax for once, or at least try to. the hotel, the restaurants, the flights. it’s all handled by you, and he has no words to tell you how grateful he is.

౨ৎ not exactly known for having a great sleep schedule, he wakes up early and coaxes you out of bed in the mornings to go on long walks with you, by the beach or in the woods.

౨ৎ the two of you enjoy the idea of relaxing, so you try spending some time doing “nothing.” but it’s when you see spencer picking shells and writing down their names that you realise you’re not meant for this type of vacation.

౨ৎ you try something different, forcing him to join you in activities he’s got no interest in. but then again, he doesn’t exactly care what he’s doing as long as it’s with you.

౨ৎ that man cares about you more than anything in the world. and that’s one thing he’ll never ever be relaxed about.

౨ৎ he’ll remind you of the climate every day to tell you to dress accordingly to the weather. set up a timer to remember to put sunscreen on your back every couple of hours. make sure you eat dessert and breakfast and snacks, telling you food is “a part of the culture you can’t miss.”

౨ৎ but obviously, that means he receives from you in return. you, who carefully bought him specific shirts that match your dresses. who got postcards from all the places you went for his mom. who agreed to visit every historical landmark he wanted to see, despite not caring the slightest.

౨ৎ in other words, this vacation is perfect and everything spencer could’ve ever dreamed of. coming back to the BAU after a couple of weeks away, he looks like a completely new person.

౨ৎ slightly tanned in the most delicious shade ever, with sun-kissed cheeks and a whole lot of souvenirs and silly magnets for the team, spencer realises vacations aren’t such a bad thing.

౨ৎ and he’d want to do it again. with you.

a/n : hey darlings !!! sorry for not posting much these days, but as you probably understood i’m on vacay (not with spencer, sadly) hope everyone is enjoying their summer,

a drabble

pairings: husband!spencer reid x fem!reader

theme: fluff!

summary: spencer gets turned on when you start rabling and sharing your knowledge.

content warnings: none!

a/n: I know i know I have so many stories posted already, but I cant help it! I have so much more in draft waiting to be edited so stay tuneeeed my dearests! i wrote this after i made my matcha, wishing spencer was real so I can tell him about it too.

masterlist

Saturday afternoon arrived quietly, sunlight filtering through the curtains of their living room, turning dust motes into something soft and golden. Spencer sat curled into the far corner of the couch, long legs folded awkwardly, a book balanced in his hands. It was his fourth book of the day, a personal record he hadn’t announced out loud but felt quietly smug about. The problem was the book itself. It was a rom-com. Not just any rom-com, but a very specific one she had practically ambushed him with three days ago, eyes bright and mischievous as she shoved it into his hands.

“Please,” she’d begged, handing him the paperback while they were lounging in bed. “Just read the first chapter. The male lead is literally you.”

“That’s unlikely,” he’d said, already suspicious.

“He speed reads.”

“…Okay.”

“He hates most technology.”

“That’s a mischaracterization—”

“And he only ever wears vests.”

Spencer had stared at her, betrayed. “That’s circumstantial.”

Still, he’d read it, out of love, and because he knew how you'd keep bugging him if he didn't, and then, annoyingly, kept reading it. Now, he closed the book with a soft thump and sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose as he stood and padded toward the kitchen. She was already there, sleeves pushed up, hair tied loosely, focused with great seriousness on her third cup of matcha for the day, a decision Spencer had opinions about but had learned to pick his battles.

“Okay,” he announced, leaning against the counter, “I’m done.”

She didn’t look up. “Already?” Asking as if she was surprised.

“Yes. And I’d like to formally state for the record that he is nothing like me.”

She snorted, whisking faster. “Spencer, he memorized an entire subway map because he got bored.”

“That’s not romantic,” he said. “That’s practical.”

“And he refuses to use social media.”

“Because it’s a privacy nightmare.”

“And he owns twelve vests.”

Spencer paused. “…I only own nine.”

She grinned triumphantly. "Whatever, you can deny all you want, but that guy is you."

He rolled his eyes but smiled despite himself, stepping closer. “Also,” he added gently, peering into her mug, “isn’t that your third matcha today?”

“Mmmhm,” she hummed.

“You do know that’s… not advisable.”

“So is profiling murderers for a living,” she shot back sweetly.

Fair. He moved behind her without thinking, resting his chin near her shoulder, arms looping comfortably around her waist. It was muscle memory at this point, domestic, easy, familiar in the way that made his chest feel warm and steady. He watched her whisk, mesmerized by the rhythm, and then she started talking.

“Did you know,” she said casually, like she hadn’t just flipped a switch in his brain, “that matcha has a significantly higher antioxidant concentration than most other teas?”

Spencer hummed, absentminded. “I did, actually.”

“It contains about ten grams of catechins per hundred grams,” she continued, “especially EGCG, epigalloca...nevermind, anyway, which has anti-inflammatory and potential anti-cancer properties.”

Her failed attempt at the name made him chuckle, then as she kept going, the hum turned into something lower. Attentive. She didn’t notice.

“It also provides L-theanine,” she went on, pouring the bright green mixture into her mug of oat milk, the yellow one with the tiny ducks he’d bought her because it reminded him of how she smiled at baby animals, “....which promotes calm focus without the jittery crash you get from coffee.”

Spencer blinked. Something about the way she said L-theanine, like it was the most natural thing in the world, made his brain short-circuit just a little. She took a sip, satisfied, then continued, because of course she did.

“And did you knoooow, In Japan, matcha actually dates back to the Kamakura period,” she said, leaning against the counter now, entirely too relaxed. “A Zen monk named Eisai brought tea seeds and preparation methods from China.”

Spencer’s arms tightened imperceptibly.

“He wrote The Book of Tea, documenting its health benefits and cultivation techniques. He even introduced it to the shogun. Which reminds me, please look for that book the next time you go to the little corner bookstore to thrift, I believe they have Japanese classics there.”

Spencer swallowed.

“Anyways, eventually, matcha spread among the samurai class. They used it to improve concentration, stabilize mood, even help recover from trauma after battles.”

She smiled softly, clearly charmed by her own trivia. “It became this whole cultural practice, not just a drink, but a ritual.”

Spencer stared at the side of her face like she’d just recited poetry.

“And by the Muromachi period,” she finished, “it laid the foundation for the formal tea ceremony we know today.”

She finally turned to show him the beautiful, bright green beverage, but Spencer was no longer behind her. He was halfway across the living room, moving with a speed she usually only saw during emergencies, grabbing a throw pillow and pressing it firmly to his lap as he sat down much too quickly.

“Spence?” she asked. “Baby, are you okay?”

“Huh?” he squeaked, far too high-pitched. “Yeah. Great. Love tea. Fascinating history.”

She looks at him, confused. “You’re sweating.”

“I— am I?”

She squinted. Then, her eyes slowed and descended to where his trembling hand was. Holding onto the pillow against his growing bulge for dear life.

“…Did my rambling,” she said slowly, realization dawning, “turn you on?”

The silence was loud. Spencer groaned, looking away from her. “I hate that you phrased it like that.”

She burst out laughing, the kind that bent her in half.

“Oh my god,” she wheezed. “You’re telling me I could’ve been doing this years ago?”

“Please don’t.”

“So you’re saying—”

“No.”

“If I just start listing fun facts—”

“Stop.”

“—about, I don’t know, the migratory patterns of arctic terns—”

Spencer whimpered. “You’re evil.” She crossed the room, grinning, setting her mug down before gently prying the pillow away.

“You married me,” she said innocently. “This is on you.”

He looked at her, flushed, flustered, hopelessly in love, and sighed. “I did.”

She leaned in, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Relax, Doctor. I’ll behave.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “You’re lying.”

“Maybe.”

She kissed him again, softer this time. “But I’ll make you a matcha.”

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹

a drabble!

pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader

theme: fluffiest fluff!

summary: spencer is stuck in a meeting all day and wants to talk to you, so he emails you a Google Doc where he chats with you

content warnings: none!

a/n: based on a very cute TikTok i watched a few days ago about a couple in college talking to each other via Google Docs in class! It was so adorable I imagined Spence doing it too :>

At 8:42 a.m., Spencer Reid makes a very conscious decision. He does not open his FBI-issued email. Instead, he logs into his personal email, the one with his full name, a profile picture she insisted on, and an inbox that is 90% newsletters he never reads and 10% emails from his wife about new book releases, restaurant newsletters, and even check-ins when they're oceans apart.

He opens a Google Doc.

He titles it carefully:

Quarterly Coordination Notes [Confidential!]

Then, after a pause that lasts exactly long enough for him to overthink it, he shares it with his wife. Across the conference table, Hotch clears his throat and begins talking about departmental metrics. Spencer nods automatically, fingers already hovering over the keyboard like they belong somewhere else.

He types.

Mr. Reid (8:43 a.m.)

Good morning, Mrs. Reid.

This document is not what it appears to be.

At home, her laptop chimes. She was in the middle of cooking breakfast for herself. She opens the doc and immediately spots the sender, his personal account.

Her smile is instant. She types back.

Mrs. Reid (8:44 a.m.)

Good morning, Mr. Reid.

Why are you using your personal email during a federal meeting?

Spencer’s shoulders relax like someone just lowered the volume of the world.

Mr. Reid (8:45 a.m.)

I didn’t want anyone to accidentally access this.

Also, I trust you with my thoughts more than the Bureau.

Emily glances at him. Spencer straightens, pretends to type notes. Nodding every 5 seconds, even when he shouldn't be.

Mrs. Reid (8:47 a.m.)

What’s the meeting about?

Mr. Reid (8:48 a.m.)

Budget allocation. Which DID NOT require three hours!!!!!

Mr. Reid (8:49 a.m.)

I miss you already. :( </3

She laughs softly, imagining him, knee bouncing under the table while he tries very hard to look professional. She remembers packing his lunch and adding a bag of Sour Patch Kids, which helps ease both his anxiety and restlessness.

Mrs. Reid (8:49 a.m.)

You left twenty minutes ago. What happened to the bag of Sour Patch? I told you to keep it in your pocket in case this happens.

Mr. Reid (8:53 a.m.)

Yes, but that was before you kissed my cheek and told me to eat lunch. I left it outside with my phone because I was almost immediately whisked into the meeting room the moment I walked in. :(

By mid-morning, the document has become less “confidential notes” and more shared space, with little timestamps of Spencer reaching for her whenever the room gets too loud.

Mr. Reid (10:02 a.m.)

Someone just said, “let’s circle back.” (HELP ME)

Mr. Reid (10:03 a.m.)

I would much rather circle back home to you. ;) ;P :D

It makes her laugh out loud. For all his nerdiness, her husband is very obviously smitten, and it comes out in the corny little things he says that somehow still manage to make her blush. She settles into his home office without thinking twice, pulling his chair closer and tucking her legs up before setting her laptop on his neatly organized desk. Her eyes land on the framed photo by the corner, her in her wedding dress, Reid carrying her like it was the easiest thing in the world, smiling like he couldn’t believe she was real. It’s one of her favorite memories, and sitting there makes the distance feel a little smaller.

Mrs. Reid (10:03 a.m.)

Careful, Mr. Reid. You’re being obvious.

Mr. Reid (10:04 a.m.)

I’m married to you. I’m allowed to be obvious. ;)

At lunch, he eats distractedly, one hand scrolling through the doc like it’s a lifeline. He's got his phone now, but the document has already grown on him, and to be honest, it did on her, too. There was something about it that made them want to keep talking.

Mr. Reid (12:06 p.m.)

It's lunch. I wish you were here.

You always take my fries even when you say you don’t want any.

Mrs. Reid (12:07 p.m.)

You give them to me anyway.

Mr. Reid (12:08 p.m.)

Because they taste better when you’re smiling.

Mr. Reid (12:20 p.m.)

Is this what it feels like to be passing notes with your crush in high school?

Mr. Reid (12:21 p.m.)

I wish I had a crush on you in high school. <3 I'd send you love letters via Google Doc all the timeeeee

Mrs. Reid (12:28 p.m.)

What does that even mean! May I remind you that you were a young genius who was in high school by 12? I was busy cutting hair on my Barbie dolls when you were in high school. Haha!

Mrs. Reid (12:30 p.m.)

And was Google Doc even a thing back in your day?

Mr. Reid (12:32 p.m.)

My day?! We're the same age!

Mrs. Reid (12:35 p.m.)

Excuse me? I'm 10 months and 6 days younger than you! Hahahaha!

The afternoon meeting is worse. Louder. Spencer presses his thumb into his palm under the table, grounding himself, then opens the doc again without thinking.

Mr. Reid (2:41 p.m.)

This room is overwhelming. I WANNA GO HOME TO YOUUUU!

Mr. Reid (2:41 p.m.)

Thinking about you makes it quieter.

Mrs. Reid (2:42 p.m.)

What are you thinking about?

He swallows, types carefully.

Mr. Reid (2:43 p.m.)

Coming home to you and your pretty face.

Mr. Reid (2:44 p.m.)

You asking how my day was.

Mr. Reid (2:45 p.m.)

Me answering too honestly.

Mr. Reid (2:46 p.m.)

You listening anyway.

Her reply is simple. Certain. She’s always loved listening to anything and everything Spencer says, his rambling, his facts, the way he overexplains without realizing it. His voice has always been a place of comfort for her. People joke that she must be a little insane for it, but she finds it sweet that no matter how long they’ve been together, he still comes to her, still finds comfort in her, like she’s home to him.

Mrs. Reid (2:45 p.m.)

Same, I can't wait to see you <3

At 4:58 p.m., the final message appears.

Mr. Reid (4:58 p.m.)

We’re done. HOORAY! I survived.

Mr. Reid (4:59 p.m.)

Thank you for keeping me company, Mrs. Reid. For being my calm. For being mine.

Her heart leaps out of her chest. She types back immediately.

Mrs. Reid (5:00 p.m.)

Always yours. See you soon, Mr. Reid.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

description: in which, spencer helps prepare you for a second date.

tags: fluff!!! fem!reader, roommate!spencer (my fav kind of spencer), little pining but the two of them are otherwise unexplored, spencer is just very Kind, r feels sick (nauseous) and its mentioned twice so heed that warning, hair tucking, lap sitting, hand holding, all the great stuff and kissing!!!!

a/n: this is very much me projecting because i also haven't kissed anyone in a while and am violently single and am therefore living vicariously through self indulgent fanfiction 😋 hhhholy crap this been in the docs since march, happy reading!!!!

wc: 2.1k

the press of the leather couch on your cheek does nothing to ease the nauseousness bubbling up in your stomach. nor does the ac that you've set at its lowest in the hopes of cooling yourself down or the peppermint tea that has now grown tepid. 

what does slow your thrumming pulse though, is the sound of footsteps outside the apartment. you know it's him before he begins to unlock the door with his set of keys, the quiet jingle caused by his mini tardis keychain. you've grown to know the way he walks, the light drag of his feet before they lift off the ground, scuffing the surface of the worn floors with his shoes. you wait patiently as the door clicks open, a faint creak passing through the room from its hinges. you really ought to get that oiled. his satchel comes off, then his shoes. 

Remus Lupin x fem!reader | part one here

Summary: You had been drawn to Remus Lupin from the very moment you had met him in your first year of Hogwarts. You discovered the mystery of his scars, and the gentle, yet tortured look in his eyes when you become best friends. You thought that was all you two were, until you start developing strange feelings for him that has you questioning lots of things.

Content: angst, fluff, more yearning, no use of Y/N, and bit of idiocy between characters.

Authors notes: here’s the part two that no one asked for! Jokes aside, thank you for the likes on the last post and I hope you like this one! I got carried away so it is very long, I’m a yapper I fear. Divider by @enchanthings

Word count: 9896 words

You watched the sunset fall down the sky, dusk waking in it's sleep as it painted the sky vibrantly with a colour of dusty pink, including a soft purple as it's undertones. It was one of the most beautiful dusks you had ever witnessed, and you wished you had a camera on you to picture this moment. However, you were always one to believe you only needed your memory to value these moments.

You stood in the clocktower courtyard, leaning your back against the arches with only three other students in the vicinity, although you were alone. You didn't mind, as you needed some alone time.

You were approaching the end of your fifth year as you were about to start your O.W.L examinations tomorrow. Of course, you were extremely anxious despite the unhealthy hours of studying you had been doing leading up to it, because you couldn't forget the way everyone had emphasised how important these exams were. How your whole life seemed to depend on it.

What made you even more anxious, was your fear of distraction. Because at the most inconvenient time, your boyfriend had decided to break up with you.

You had to admit, the affection in your relationship hadn't been as intense as it was in the first few months, but you had assumed that was pretty normal. Apparently, not to him, and unbeknownst to you, he had been losing feelings.

The break-up was two weeks ago, which you would've been able to work around your sadness had you not recently spotted him with another girl, as if he hadn't just gotten out of a relationship. What a way to make you feel horrible about yourself.

You didn't notice the approaching footsteps until someone leaned on the arches beside you, and you looked over.

Remus.

"Oh, hello," you said in slight surprise.

He turned to you, smiling softly. "Hi."

"Um... everything alright?" You asked.

"On my part, yes. I just came over since you seemed lonely," said Remus.

"I'm not lonely," you said defensively.

"You're not a lonely person, but you seem lonely as of now," Remus clarified.

You furrowed your eyebrows slightly, and sighed as you faced forward again, tilting your head up to the sky.

"Worried about O.W.L.s?" Remus inquired. "I know I am."

"Everyone knows you're worried about O.W.L.s. You nearly pushed Sirius out of the window in the common room when he kept on breaking your concentration," you said with an amused smile.

Remus scoffed. "I shouldn't have held back. Just because he's naturally smart at everything, doesn't give him the right to mess me up!"

You let out a light laugh, and you didn't see the fond smile on Remus' smile.

"O.W.L.s aren't putting me at ease, among other things..." you confessed.

Remus looked at you questioningly. "Among other things?"

You hadn't exactly made the break-up public to all of your friends. You had only told Lily, Mary and Marlene about it. While you were known around Hogwarts, you weren't particularly popular. At least, not enough for people to really care if your relationship had ended. You liked it that way, without people gossiping about you while you suffered.

You had also steered clear of telling Remus out of all people. It wasn't that you didn't trust him, but you had a feeling he would say something along the lines of 'I told you so' since he's always against your relationships, especially this one.

But it was a matter of time before he did find out, you supposed. You would rather he hear it from you than anyone else.

"My boyfriend broke up with me," you blurted out, "well, ex-boyfriend."

Remus stilled, blinking at you as if he wasn't sure he had heard right. "You... what?"

You sighed. "Yes, he broke up with me. And please, don't lecture me. You act like an old man when it comes to these things, I swear..."

"I won't lecture you!" said Remus hastily, and then said in a gentler tone, "are you okay?"

You bit the inside of your cheek, and shrugged. "It was two weeks ago, so it's not that fresh. Well, that actually is quite fresh... point is, I could be doing better, but I'm not hysterical, so that's a good sign I think."

Remus' mouth fell open, and you watched the comprehension of this revelation unfold on his face. His eyes suddenly narrowed, "wait, he broke up with you?"

"Yep," you said gloomily.

"Why on earth would he do that?"

"Lost feelings, apparently," you told him.

To your surprise, anger flashed in Remus' eyes. "He lost feelings? How could he lose feelings? Has he been dropped on his head or something?"

You couldn't help but smile, taken aback by Remus' anger that seemed to be expressed for you. "I don't know. I guess I just didn't reach his standards or something."

"Reach his standards? Okay, there's definitely something wrong with him. I always knew he was no good," said Remus sourly. "He's got nerve to lose feelings as if he wasn't the luckiest to have you..."

That caught your attention, your heart quickening. "What?"

Remus stopped his rant, eyes slightly widening as he met your eyes. "Er, what?"

"The luckiest to have me? What do you mean?" you asked curiously.

Remus didn't respond at first, as if his brain was short circuiting. Then he spluttered out a line of sentences with the anxiety clear in his voice, "well, y'know what I think of you. You're great and all, because you're my friend, and I've known you for a while. I don't mean it in a weird way. I'm just saying he was lucky to have you, and I think that because you're my best friend."

Your lips parted, and you nodded slowly. "Right. Best friend."

Something unreadable passed in Remus' eyes. "Yeah. Best friend."

A brief silence settled between you two at those two words, brimming with something you couldn't name. It was true, you were best friends, that was out of the question. So then why was there an odd weight in your chest trying to tell you otherwise?

"Are you like... heartbroken about it?" Remus asked quietly.

"Saying I'm heartbroken feels a bit of an exaggeration. But I definitely feel like shit, since I've already seen him with another girl, but I'm trying not to let it distract me," you admitted. "I need to focus on my O.W.L.s."

Remus bit his lip, and you avoided making eye-contact with him, suddenly nervous under his gaze.

"I'm sorry. You deserve better, like much better," Remus said sincerely.

You gathered the courage to look at him, smiling weakly. "Thanks, Remus. I guess it was nice while it lasted, but my relationship with him was never going to be a long-term thing anyway..."

Remus nodded understandingly. You felt his pinkie finger brush against yours, and you were suddenly aware of how your arms brushed against his. This proximity was normal for you two, though, so you didn't need to dwell on it.

For some reason, it felt easier to forget about stupid ex-boyfriends after that conversation. While you rarely slept, and your skin broke out from stress during the O.W.L examination, you made it through and were extremely relieved when you finished them. The Gryffindors threw one last party of the school year in celebration of exams ending, before everyone went home for the summer.

You had the best summer as you could with the current war brewing. You were still able to hang out with your friends, and wrote to them frequently even if you were unable to see them in person. You also moved on from your past relationship, and decided that maybe romance shouldn't be on the table for your sixth year.

Now you boarded the Hogwarts Express for just that, talking with your friends happily as it pulled out of the station. Your peaceful ride was interrupted when the trolley lady came to your compartment, and along with her a group of four chaotic boys chasing the sweets down.

"Hello, ladies! Had a good summer?" James asked cheerfully, poking his head into the compartment. "Hi, Evans."

"Hi," said Lily shortly, then looking away. You raised your eyebrows, as she didn't spit the usual insult or even send a dirty look, only seeming plainly uninterested this time around.

James seemed to take this as a win, straightening up with a proud smile. You spotted your favourite boy standing outside of your compartment with the others, and you reached around the door to tug his wrist, intending to pull him in.

It worked, and Remus looked around with a confused frown as he stumbled in. He spotted you, and his eyes significantly softened when they laid on you.

"Remus!" you said happily, jumping out of your seat to throw your arms around him. Remus chuckled, saying hi to the other girls as they greeted him.

"You always hug me like I've come back for war every time we see each other on the train, as if we didn't see each other over the summer," said Remus amusingly.

"We didn't get to see each other as much!" You reasoned.

"I s'pose," said Remus, staring down at you tenderly. You were taken aback by the skip in your heart.

You noticed his hair, and it was an instinct as your hand reached out to rest on the nape of his neck. He jerked slightly at the touch, and you rubbed your thumb there in an attempt to soothe him.

"You need to get a haircut. Your hair's a bit long at the back," you told him casually.

Remus stared at you with wide eyes, and then blinked rapidly as if snapping out of a daze. "Huh? O-oh, yeah."

You laughed at the look on his face, misinterpreting it. "You're lucky you suit it anyway."

Remus tilted his head slightly. "I do?"

Your smile faltered as you nodded, hyper-aware of your own heartbeat. "Yeah."

Without being able to help it, you studied Remus' features. The slop of his nose with the prominent bump on it, the freckles dotted sporadically on his face which were only noticeable up close, the subtle scar on his lip, and those eyes that were so warm and never failed to make you melt.

You had gotten used to seeing his face, so you didn't understand why you suddenly felt so mesmerised. You had always admired his uniquely beautiful face, but never paid attention to that admiration now. Your breath silently hitched as he gazed at you, like he was seeing right through you, and a burst of warmth bloomed in your chest.

You pulled your hand back hastily, your skin suddenly feeling hot.

"Moony, sweets are ready! Let's get going!" Peter called out, catching both yours and Remus' attention.

"Yep!" Remus called back, and he smiled lopsidedly at you, a tinge of shyness to it. "See you."

"See you," you said softly, not paying attention to the snickers of the girls as Remus left the compartment, leaving with the other Marauders.

You flopped back into your seat, letting out a breath you didn't know you had been holding in.

Godric, that boy seemed to be become more handsome by the day even when you didn't think it was possible. It was quite annoying sometimes.

***

It had been a rough day for you.

Remus could tell, because he knew how to read you. He saw that tired look in your eyes, he noticed your lack of contribution to conversations, he knew those smiles were fake even when he observed from afar. And he was determined to make you feel better, because you always did the same for him.

He knew it was probably a bad idea to even think about it. He had told himself to distance himself a little from you this school year, in order to avoid his feelings from becoming more intense. There was no way you would ever reciprocate his feelings, so he needed to get on top of it while he could, but it was a little difficult. He was just naturally drawn to you, thus the distancing thing not working as well as he hoped.

He would make an exception now in order for your comfort.

Remus saw you leaving the common room by yourself on that same afternoon, school having ended an hour ago. He had dropped what he was doing, asking his friends to put his things away before hurrying off after you.

He then wished it was his turn to hold the Marauders  map today, then it would be easier to find you. Still, he followed the way most Gryffindors left Gryffindor tower.

He found you at one floor of the great staircase, and eagerly caught up to you. He called out your name, his mind racing to form plans for the both of you.

You visibly jumped, and turned around. You relaxed when you saw him. "Hi, Remus," you said dryly as he ran to you. "Need something?"

"No, just you," said Remus without thinking, and his eyes widened. "Er, I mean — just wanted to hang out, with you. That's what I meant."

You blinked, and the corners of your lips quirked upwards with amusement. His heart fluttered.

"Going somewhere?" he asked.

"Not really. Just on a stroll," you shrugged.

"Want to go somewhere?"

You frowned. "I don't understand what you mean."

"I'll help you understand by showing you. Follow me," he said excitedly, gesturing back to the staircase.

You looked at him curiously as you followed him back to the moving staircase. "You're not going to kill me, are you?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Like you would let me."

You finally smiled. It didn't seem so fake, and it almost took Remus' breath away.

He led you to the third floor, and anticipation pooled in his stomach as you walked down a specific corridor. He could already pick up on the sweetly smell.

They stopped in front of the hump-backed one-eyed witch statue, and you looked at him bemusedly. "Very interesting, Remus. Highlight of my day."

He sent you a small glare, and pulled his wand out. "Dissendium," he said, tapping the statue. He watched smugly as the hump opened to reveal a stone slide Remus knew all too well.

He looked at you, satisfied as your eyes widened and your lips parted. "What the fuck?"

"Still interesting?" he teased, moving aside for her. "Ladies first."

You looked at him in disbelief, and took a step forward, suddenly looking uncertain and worried.

He softened. "I'll be right behind you."

You glanced at him, and gave a small smile. You took a deep breath before moving forward, squealing as you went down the slide.

Remus chuckled, and kept his promise as he went straight after you.

"It's dark!" You said fearfully as he arrived. "I don't like the dark!"

"Lumos," he said, his wand lighting up the tunnel. "You forget you're a witch."

You glared at him. "This was your idea."

"Indeed it was. Follow me if you will," he said, hearing you sigh as you followed his lead.

"What is this place? Where are you taking me? I've never heard of it," you asked.

Remus couldn't help but smile. You were so cute, he wished he could just pull you in for the sweetest kiss.

"I'm sure others have discovered it, but it's a bit of a Marauders thing," he said, winking at you in the wand light. "Don't worry, it'll be worth it."

You said nothing, only giving him an unreadable look, and he looked away as he continued to lead you down the passage.

The rest of the way was silent, and when you both arrived, the smell of the sweets were so prominent that Remus thought surely you could smell it too. You came across the stone steps that rose out of sight before them, and he watched your bewildered expression carefully.

"Are you actually going to kill me, Remus?" You said anxiously.

Remus snorted. "Never seen you so intimidated by stairs."

"Keep talking shit like that, and I'll kill you," you threatened, but Remus just laughed. It was so that you couldn't help but smile yourself.

You started ascending upon the stairs, and Remus groaned inwardly as he remembered how many there can be.

His head hit something solid, and he knew you had arrived. He held out a hand to stop you before you could bump your head. You had opened your mouth to ask before he opened the trapdoor above.

Putting out that light on his wand, he went up first before helping you up, pressing a finger to his lips to tell you to be quiet. You could only look around in wonder silently at the cellar of stacked boxes.

Luckily, no one came, so he gently took your hand and led you out.

Suddenly, you two found yourselves in Honeydukes and he looked to you eagerly for your reaction.

Your eyes were wide, your mouth dropped lower now. He pushed you along with him to look around one of the shelves so you could blend in with the other few people in the shop. Good thing you guys weren't in Hogwarts uniform.

"Remus..." you said breathlessly. "Are we really in Hogsmeade right now?"

Remus grinned. "We sure are. Hungry for some sweets?"

You just stared at him, blinking rapidly. "You're mental."

"Always flattery with you."

You shook your head. "Seriously, mental. I don't wanna ask how you and your friends discovered this."

"Well, it was actually just me but yeah, don't ask," said Remus.

You snorted. "And you call yourself humble."

Remus shrugged, looking at the shelves. His face faltered as he realised something. "I don't believe it. I don't have any money on me. You?"

Your face also faltered, and Remus was about to chastise himself before you reached into your pocket, pulling out a little bag of Galleons. Your face lit up with a mischievous smile as Remus' mouth dropped.

"You- I was about to be so disappointed with myself!" said Remus scoldingly, although he wasn't really mad.

"You should've seen the look on your face. So worth it," you giggled, and Remus' heart warmed at the sound of your laugh.

"Sometimes, I despise you," said Remus, and you poked your tongue out at him playfully.

"Can we walk around Hogsmeade after this?" You asked hopefully, your eyes surveying the shelves.

"Of course we can," he said quickly, and you smiled at him.

Remus tried to insist that you didn't buy him anything, but of course, you didn't listen to him and bought some chocolate for him anyway. After you made your purchases, you took his hand and dragged him out.

He felt blissful as he walked around Hogsmeade with you. You didn't go into any shops, just enjoyed the scenery of autumn. At first, you had been holding his hand but let go, back to being his friend.

No, you had always been his friend. He had just been imagining you were more for a second. That you were on a date with him, just enjoying each other and the village.

If only.

"I noticed you were off today," Remus eventually spoke up, looking at you cautiously. "Everything okay?"

You didn't look at him, any traces of a smile gone. "Of course."

He tilted his head at you. "Are you sure? You know you can tell me anything."

You seemed to hesitate, and he was patient as you considered it before saying, "there's nothing actually going on, it's just one of those days. I feel sad for no reason, and I can't get this heavy feeling out of my stomach, and I know it's stupid but-"

"It's not stupid," said Remus gently.

"Well I feel stupid," you said as if that settled it.

"You're not," said Remus firmly. "You have a right to feel that way even if you don't have an actual reason. Everyone gets stressed these days, especially with the war."

You were silent at first, and Remus was afraid he had said something wrong before you looked at him with a vulnerable look in your eyes. "Thanks, Remus."

He reciprocated the smile. "Anytime."

Your gaze averted to your feet, smiling to yourself. Remus could've fallen to his knees at how beautiful you were. His fingers brushed against yours, and he resisted the overflowing urge to pull you close and melt in your arms, taking everything in him to not brush your hair out of your face.

You eventually went back into Honeydukes to get back to Hogwarts. Sneaking around the back with you, having to stay silent and stay close to you to hide, gave him a thrill. You always sent such a thrill through him.

You both giggled uncontrollably as you walked back down the tunnel, nearly having been caught by one of the workers. He had locked the trapdoor behind him just in time.

"You're a terrible influence, making me break the rules like this," you said teasingly.

"What can I say? I'm dragging you down with me," Remus retorted with a grin.

You just laughed, gaze turning to the ground as the melodic sound echoed through the passage.

Remus' breath was snatched away from him this time. His eyes stayed on you, drinking in your natural beauty. It didn't seem to matter how tired or sad you looked, you were still beautiful. You would always be beautiful, no matter what.

As he smiled to himself, he didn't notice the tender gaze you had directed towards him.

***

Your mind was in an uproar, for only one reason.

Remus Lupin.

You had only started noticing recently how rarely you ever tore your gaze away from him, how warm and fuzzy you felt in his presence, how good he had become at quickening your heart and inflicting sensations in your stomach.

You had always found Remus kind and admittedly handsome, but something felt different this year. He was different. You couldn't pinpoint what it was, but he seemed more mature in a good way.

Then, when Sirius had casually mentioned to you that someone had almost kissed him, heat threatened to engulf you.

Remus, someone else? That wasn't right.

You had subtly asked for more information. It had been at a party earlier on in the year, and Remus hadn't been interested in the slightest, rejecting the person right away.

You were immensely relieved he hadn't been interested, but you didn't know why you felt so strongly about it, why you even cared in the first place. He was your best friend. Whoever he wanted to be with romantically was none of your business.

But you couldn't ignore that hot, irritating feeling in your bones whenever you tried to picture him with someone else.

He had just been making you feel so many things lately, and it was entirely too much. To your horror, he made you quite nervous. He was starting to consume your thoughts, and you wanted him out. He was one of your favourite people, but when it was like this... the thought of him was playing with your heart, and your heart needed to be left alone.

It wasn't like you could stay away from him. You loved spending time with him, laughing with him and leaning your head on his shoulder. His shoulder was so comfortable, like his arms and his hands, and maybe his whole body.

You needed to stop thinking like this.

There came the day of Remus' seventeenth birthday. Despite a small part of you wanting to stay away to help your feelings, you had hugged him tightly and given him his present.

You had noticed Remus never minded you hugging him or touching him anymore. He had made it clear from the start that he wasn't a physical person, but he never reacted when it was you, even sometimes encouraging it.

You liked being an exception.

Of course, the Marauders had thrown him a party without his knowledge, since he wasn't a fan of parties. You knew this, and made sure the boys invited less people than they usually would've.

The party came, and it was amusing to watch the were multiple attempts of trying to drag him into the dancing crowd, and him not having it every time. You had stayed with him to smoke and drink a little before leaving to dance with your friends.

It was safe to say you had gotten quite drunk, but that was nothing new. You downed a glass of Firewhiskey, and slammed it down on a table nearby. The room started to feel blurry before you, but you pushed on, swaying to the music.

Your mind flashed to him again, and your heart quickened at the image of his face, his eyes, then his lips.

A frown appeared on your face, rubbing your temples. Why was your mind flooding with images of him all of the sudden?

You looked around the room, suddenly desperate to find Remus. You stumbled forward, but it was hard to see through the throngs of people. Running a hand through your hair, you felt a bit stressed as you drunkenly ran around, searching for him. You didn't now why you were intent on finding him, but you didn't dwell on it.

Finally, you found him alone near the fireplace and your heart lifted. You rushed towards him and swung your arms around his neck, shocking him into a hug.

"Remus!" You squealed, pulling away and beaming at him. "I've been looking for you!"

Remus looked at you in surprise. "Bloody hell, you're drunk."

"Huh?" You said. How did he know?

"I can tell," said Remus, and gave you a small smile. "Glad you're having fun."

"Are you having fun? This is your party! It's your birthday!" You shouted over the music.

"Yep, it's my birthday," said Remus, but he didn't sound so optimistic.

"You're of age now! Big boy now, but you were already a big boy," you rambled, impulsively reaching to ruffle his hair, and then you started playing with it.

Remus tensed, giving you a strange look you couldn't decipher.

"You should be dancing and having fun! Snog someone! Actually, no, please don't. I don't like that," you said.

"You don't?" Remus repeated curiously.

"Duh. I know you're like, gorgeous and all, but don't do it!" You suggested strongly.

He was more than gorgeous, perhaps even more than beautiful. That proved so as the light shone on him, radiating on him perfectly, like his skin was glowing. Clad in one of his usual knit sweaters, you didn't think he could look any better.

Remus paused. His Adam's apple bobbed before he lightly took your wrists and put them back by your sides. "Go have fun."

"I am having fun, I'm with you," you said openly, staring up at him, wide-eyed.

Remus' jaw clenched. "Just... go, please."

"Remus John Lupin, seventeen years old!" You announced, although no one but him heard. Your hands were on his chest now. "You're unstoppable now."

Remus didn't say anything, trying to subtly take a step back but he couldn't when you pressed her head against his chest. You wanted to hear his heartbeat. Was it beating as fast as yours?

"You're so warm, and cosy, and comfortable. Like, I could use you as my pillow, or my teddy bear," you told him, and let out a little giggle. "You're like a teddy bear."

A calloused hand, yet gentle to the touch cradled your head and moved it back, so that you weren't leaning on his chest anymore. You looked at him again, your heart pounding against your chest now.

"You need a glass of water," Remus murmured, avoiding your strong gaze.

That's not what I need, you thought subconsciously.

"Have I ever told you about your eyes?" You asked, letting him guide you to take a step back, staying in that spot. "They remind me of chocolate. You like chocolate. They're all soft too, like you would never dare hurt anyone. You look like the kindest person in the world sometimes, Remus."

"Stop talking," he said.

"Why? I'm just saying? Your eyes are so nice," she said truthfully.

"I don't need to hear it," he said firmly, a glint of something fragile in his eyes. "Not from you."

You. frowned at him, and he cleared his throat. "Let's get you a glass of cold water."

He had been about to lead you somewhere else until you stopped him. Acting impulsively again, one of your hands cupped the side of his neck as the other gripped his arm. He froze, eyes widening at you.

Your mind was hazy, but at same time, you knew exactly what you were doing. Your heart wanted to be in tune with his, and your stomach was being undone with flutters of butterflies. Looking at him, you knew exactly what you wanted.

You smiled softly at him, standing on your tiptoes and inching closer to him. So close until you shared a breath, and Remus wasn't stopping you. Maybe he wouldn't, because then he had started to lean in as well, his eyes closing.

"You're the bestest friend anyone could ask for, Remus," you whispered to him like a promise.

Remus stopped leaning in, his eyes flying open abruptly. Staring at you, he swore and stepped back, pushing you away.

You stumbled, frowning as you watched him swear profanities to himself.

"What am I doing? I'm so sorry. Shit, you're drunk," he rambled, his eyes wide with panic. "I'm sorry. I should've realised —"

"What?" You said quietly. You couldn't understand the guilt in his eyes. You also couldn't understand why your chest burned with such pain.

Looking around frantically, Remus called out to someone while you frowned at his shoes. What had just happened? Why had Remus stopped?

"She's wasted. Just get her a drink of water, yeah? I've got a headache..."

You were taken aback to see James, and he patted your shoulder as he gently grabbed your arm and dragged you away from Remus.

You looked over her shoulder at the boy, your chest tightening.

What had you just done?

After James standing with you while you downed a whole glass of ice-cold water, he eventually left to join the party again. The boy seemed drunk himself, it only made sense.

So you found yourself wandering into the middle of the party again, getting lost in the mass of people.

Remus didn't leave your mind. You could still feel his touch on you like it had just happened a few seconds ago, like his skin was still burning into yours. It was becoming frightening, the way he was making you feel.

A sickening liquid rose up your throat, and you rushed to the bathroom to throw up the contents inside your stomach, a cold dread chilled into your bones. Your heart raced with panic, your stomach clenching with regret.

You regretted getting so close to Remus, you regretted ever being with anyone else. Because it was inevitable now.

You had feelings for your best friend.

***

You cried the morning after Remus' birthday.

You remembered fragments, but everything you did remember, you deeply regretted.

Why did you have to act like that around Remus? Why had you said those things, and done those things? Why had you realised your feelings at such a horrible moment?

You were in absolute disbelief. You couldn't believe you hadn't realised it before. All of the signs had been so obvious, all of the things he made you feel.

You knew you had always loved him, but never believed that love to be anything more. Perhaps it had always been that way, you were just too oblivious to realise it, too focused on other things. But he was your best friend. There was no way you could ruin your friendship like this.

Albeit, you might've already ruined your friendship with him last night.

When you saw him in the common room the morning after, your breath had hitched. Fear overtook you, and you had nearly ran away, but you had just stopped herself.

He had seemed cold when you approached him, reserved. You couldn't blame him. You started with polite small talk, asking how he was feeling and if he had a good birthday. He said he felt fine, and murmured another "fine," when you asked about his birthday.

Instead of ripping off the bandaid, you first apologised for getting so drunk at his own party and acting foolish, apologising again if you had done something embarrassing. He brushed you off, saying it was fine. When you tried to bring up what you had done, he had quickly turned it around.

He told you to not worry, that you two were fine. By the way he had talked, the subject was closed and you truly didn't need to worry about it anymore.

But you did, of course you did. You fancied the damn boy, and now he was acting like nothing had happened. You knew it had, you wanted to address it, but he clearly didn't.

Strangely enough, you let it be. You didn't bring it up anymore, because you were scared. If what you two had crumbled, you would be crushed by the debris. You cared about him so intensely, and yes, you wanted him as more than a friend, you wanted to be even closer to him and be poured with his affection, but it wasn't even likely he felt the same way.

Remus was different. He wasn't someone you could risk losing. You wouldn't do it just for a stupid crush. It was a shame it was more than a crush. A shame that he made you feel a way no one ever had.

A few months passed since then. You gradually forgot about the actual moment, but the impact of it still remained. At first, there had been tension between you and Remus but you had gone back to normal. Back to hanging out occasionally, to making jokes and laughing freely together.

But it wasn't normal. Not when your heart pounded whenever you were around him, or how a shock of electricity shot up your arm every time his hand brushed yours. You had to hide her blush quite often around him, and had to be subtle with your staring. It wasn't like you could help it, he was so bloody attractive.

It looked normal on the outside, and probably felt normal to him, but it wasn't for you.

You thought you could push the feelings away, but they never went. They stayed stubbornly, like gum on your shoe. It didn't help when you still felt that unresolved tension sometimes. You still wanted to talk about that night, to see what he thought of the fact that you had tried to kiss him.

But you would always be too much of a coward to risk ruining your bond.

You woke up the morning after a full moon, getting ready for school with a heavy weight in your stomach. You always felt like this in regards of Remus. You wondered if it had been a bad one. Hopefully he wasn't too scratched up.

You would just ask the boys about it. They always told you.

However, that didn't go to plan.

When you arrived to the Great Hall, it was different. Sirius was sitting by himself, with James and Peter together. They all had cuts and bruises visible.

You sat with Sirius so he could use some company. The girls had been worried, but not as worried as you since you knew more than they did. You had softly asked Sirius what had happened, but he wouldn't tell you. All he said was that you should hate him, that it was his fault.

With that, you knew something went seriously wrong.

You had then gone to James and Peter, begging them to tell you. Eventually, they gave in and told you everything.

You didn't know what to think by the time they had finished.

You couldn't believe Sirius had done such a thing. You couldn't believe Snape knew, and you couldn't imagine how Remus was feeling.

The boys, especially Remus, were furious with Sirius, and rightfully so. You couldn't understand why he had done such a stupid thing, why he would think of it as a funny prank when it involved Remus' condition.

You felt angry with Sirius yourself, but James had told you to hold it back. To stick with Sirius and be there for him. James was angry, yes, but he still didn't want Sirius to be alone. He still needed a friend, because it was clear Sirius was remorseful. Who knew what would happen if he didn't have someone by his side?

So you listened. You did stick with Sirius, being by his side. It was hard, but helpful with the other girls hanging out with him and being there.

You didn't hate Sirius. You never could, you just hated what he did.

You desperately wanted to visit Remus, but you knew he would need even more alone time after this.

After a few days, you got impatient and decided to go. You told James you would, and he was hesitant about it, but seeing how determined you were, he let you go for it.

You walked to the Hospital Wing with a bag in your hands, consisting of things for him per usual. Remembering the secret passage to Hogsmeade through the statue he had shown you, you had snuck in to grab some chocolates from Honeydukes, and had even bought him a new sweater. It wasn't much, but you couldn't think of much to do, and you had to do something.

Your heart raced nervously as you entered. You found his bed at the far end of the wing, discovering that he was fast asleep.

You slowly approached, placing the bag by his bed. You observed him.

You had never seen him look worse. He was almost as pale as a ghost, the darkest circles under his eyes and his hair messy. His eyebrows were furrowed in his sleep, like he was burdened.

It caused your heart to ache.

You didn't wake him up. Instead, you pulled up a stool and sat on it, sitting and staring at him as you waited. You didn't want him to be alone when he woke up.

It felt like another hour until Remus stirred, and you perked up, having almost fallen asleep yourself. You watched him intently as his eyes fluttered open, his gaze being on the ceiling first.

A groan left him, and he rolled over to the side, facing you. His eyes caught onto yours, and they immediately widened.

He tried to exclaim your name, but his voice was hoarse as he abruptly sat up, and then he winced.

You jumped to your feet. "Lie down, Remus! Go easy."

He looked at you warily before slowly lying down again, his face scrunching in pain.

"Are you okay?" You asked softly, reaching out a hand.

"'M fine," Remus muttered, swatting your hand away. You stilled, and he looked regretful for a moment before you forced a smile at him.

"Have you been eating enough? I mean, surely Madam Pomfrey gets you food?" You asked anxiously.

Remus stared at you unreadably. "I don't have an appetite."

You had been about to point how his appetite always increased around the full moon, but this was no normal full moon. Realising that he was probably feeling like absolute shit, you pulled your stool beneath you and sat closer to him. You gave him a soft, what you hoped was a soothing smile.

He didn't respond, just lied on his back and stared at the ceiling.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, and your mind raced as you tried to think of what to do and say. He hadn't kicked you out or yelled at you, so that was a start.

"I'm sorry if me being here bothers you, I just couldn't help it," you started. "I've been really wanting to see you."

"I'm fine," Remus repeated again, his voice cold.

You doubted that. You could see the spasms of pain in his face whenever he slightly moved, and you assumed there was some wound on his chest or something. You couldn't see, though, since he had a loose T-shirt on.

"Still," you said, trying to keep that gentle smile. "I have chocolate for you!”

You reached into the bag and pulled out one of his favourite bars, holding it out to him. He slowly took it, frowning.

"Obviously, chocolate doesn't fix everything but I know you love it. I wish there was more I could do," you said quietly.

"It's enough," Remus said under his breath, placing the chocolate bar in his lap and looking to the ceiling again.

You wished he would open up to you.

"Remus, I heard this was a rough one," you said softly.

Remus' eyes snapped to you. "How d'you know?"

"James told me," you said in a small voice, a little fearful now.

Remus let out a sharp breath through his nose. "Right."

"I'm sorry it happened, Remus. You didn't deserve that, and for Sirius to do that... it's fucked up," you said.

Remus let out a grunt, and rolled over to his other side, his back facing you. You heard him wince a little.

"Are you alright?" You asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," Remus snapped, and you backed down.

You sighed, looking at your lap, fiddling with your fingers. This wasn't going too well, but you didn't expect much.

"I know this must be hard for you. You know I'm here if you need to talk to me," you told him.

You heard a sigh leave Remus. "Brilliant. You can leave now."

You blinked. Oh.

"Okay," you said quietly, standing up and ignoring the tightening of your chest. Noticing the bags again, you said, "also, I've left a bag here for you. It's got some stuff. Not much at all, but I think it's better than nothing..."

Remus suddenly turned to her, the painful scrunch of his face obvious. "As in gifts?"

You hesitated. "Yeah."

Remus' jaw clenched, and you had been about to take your leave until he finally snapped, "for fuck's sake, I don't need fucking gifts, and I don't need your fucking pity. I've already had a mouthful of it."

You were struck. "What?"

"I've always taken it. I've always let you feel good about yourself whenever you do some stupid shit like this for me, but I thought you'd learn to stop! I get it, you're oh so privileged, so stop treating me like your fucking charity case. Okay? Stop," he said harshly, his eyes glaring into you.

You were frozen, at a loss for what to do. "Remus —"

"And don't try even harder just because of what happened the other night. It's not even your business, I can't believe James told you. I know you're probably on Sirius' side," Remus spat. "You probably secretly think it's funny. I'll tell you right now, you don't need to pretend, and you can bugger off. I don't need you anyway."

A pang hit your heart, a damaging blow that caused a crack.

So this was how he really felt.

Quickly giving up on fighting back, you just nodded and whispered, "alright."

"Right," Remus echoed, sounding a little less sure of himself. However, he still had that same bite, that same scowl on his face. "And take your fucking bag too."

He chucked the chocolate bar at your feet, and turned to lay on his other side again.

You stood there in silence for a moment, swallowing down your tears as you gritted your teeth again. You waited for him to take it back, but he didn't.

You picked up the bag and chocolate bar, turning around to make your leave. You almost looked over your shoulder, but you couldn't. Once you shut the doors of the Hospital Wing behind you,  you let out a breathy gasp.

Did this mean everything you had was over? Was he really done with you?

Your heart aching, you rushed into the nearest bathroom to let your tears fall.

***

Remus had hated Sirius for what he did.

His best friend who he had trusted with his secret for all of these years, who had become an Animagus for him, who had been there for him through his transformations, had betrayed him. It was because of him that his worst enemy now knew his secret, and he had almost killed someone.

Of course it was hard for Remus to forgive Sirius. Of course he wasn't sure he would ever forgive the boy.

But time had passed, and his anger started to fade into sadness, and he never wanted to admit it, but he missed Sirius. He missed when his friend group was whole, before any of it had happened.

Then Lily Evans came along. She had figured out Remus' secret, and had calmly asked him in private about what had happened. He had hesitated, but it was Lily, so he had told her, and she had seemed to get both perspectives of the story before heavily encouraging them to make up.

And so they did. It was strange, awkward, tense, but they had made up. They had forgiven Sirius, and while it took some more time for it to feel completely normal again, it eventually did.

Except it wasn't normal. Not for Remus. He was still missing something, someone.

God, he had never hated himself more.

He stared at you everyday. Whether it was in class, during lunch, dinner or breakfast, or in the common room. He couldn't keep his eyes off you, his heart aching every time he looked at you.

The aftermath of the prank took a toll on Remus. He had almost killed someone, and one more person found out about his secret. It was horrible. He had felt like he wanted to die.

He didn't realise your good intentions at the time, and he took it out on you. He poured his anger into his words towards you, and the result was terrible.

It could've also been the bottled up frustration from his birthday party when you had drunkenly tried to kiss him.

Shamefully, Remus had still been angry at you after he had snapped. While he still felt guilt right after he had done it, he thought he didn't need to feel guilty when he saw you hanging out with Sirius. He thought he had had every right to say what he did to you, that you really did take Sirius' side. He had also thought you had told Lily about Remus' condition until Lily assured him you didn't.

He was a fucking idiot for that.

It wasn't until after he made up with Sirius that he found out that James had actually asked you to stay with Sirius. You had been hesitant, just as angry with Sirius, but you did it so that he wouldn't feel completely alone.

You had taken Remus' side, he just didn't let you.

When his strong emotions subsided, he realised how stupid he was. How much of a dickhead he was, and he wanted to apologise so badly. He had tried, but you walked away every time. You didn't even look at him.

Worst part, he couldn't even blame you. You had every right to be mad. The audacity he had in the first place to ever have those feelings towards you was outrageous, especially since you had done nothing wrong.

Sometimes, Remus did feel like you were taking too much pity on him, and he hated pity so it did irritate him, but he had exaggerated it. He supposed it was just one of his last straws.

And he lied. He lied when he said he didn't need you. He did, he needed you so much, but he didn't have you. It was all his fault, and he knew that.

The next full moons without you were horrible, knowing that you weren't by his side. Knowing that he had ruined everything you two had, that it had crumbled because of his horrible anger issues.

His heart hurt without you. He dreamed about you, your beautiful face contorting into a hateful expression, telling him how terrible he was and how you could never forgive him. It was on him for ruining everything.

He believed it.

He considered getting on his knees, begging at your feet to forgive him, or to try. He needed to do something, he just needed you back. It was torture.

His throat was tight as he thought of you while he was walked through the corridors, on his way back to Gryffindor towers after dropping some books off at the library. He missed your laugh, your smile, your voice, the warm feeling he would get in his chest just by simply being around you.

He missed you more than anything.

It had been a dull day with dark clouds looming overhead, rain pouring down all day. He could hear it pattering into the ground now as his footsteps echoed in the empty corridors. He took a turn, the clocktower courtyard on his right.

He glanced up once from where he had been looking at his feet, and did a double take. There, you were crouched down on the floor, your bag in front of you as you seemingly reorganised the contents inside. His whole body froze, heart skipping a beat.

You didn't notice him at first, until you zipped up your bag and stood up, slinging it over your shoulder. Your gaze subconsciously looked around, and your own body stilled as you met his eyes.

Time stood still for just a second, as the two of you stared breathlessly at each other, heartbeats in tune unknown to the both of you.

Then your face hardened, and you turned away, walking straight into the rain.

"Is she seriously walking into the rain?" Remus murmured to himself, watching you in disbelief.

His mind raced, and he came to a decision. He was sick of all of his longing stares, sick of his heart aching whenever he looked at you, sick of the regret intensifying whenever you treated him like a stranger. He did need you, and he would rather have you as a friend than not have you at all.

He called out your name.

***

It took everything in you to not instantly turn around when your name was called. You kept on walking, but when Remus said your name again, you finally halted in your tracks, taking a deep breath.

He said he didn't need you, so why did he act like he cared now?

He shouted your name again over the noise of the rain, which drenched your hair and clothes, rinsing your skin.

"I know you're mad, you have every right to be," Remus called out, desperation in his voice. "But please listen to me. Please?"

When he pleaded with you like that, how could you refuse?

You slowly turned on your heel, gaze darting around until they landed on his. Your breath hitched as you took him in. His brown hair was now soaked by the rain, nearly covering his whole eyesight. Even then, you could see the longing in his eyes, reserved just for you.

"I thought you didn't need me," you said coldly.

Remus' face fell. "No, I didn't mean that. Not one bit."

"Then why would you say it?" you asked, your tone harsher than you intended.

"I had no right," said Remus emotionally, shaking his head. "I was angry at everything, and I took it out on you, and that was so unfair. You didn't deserve that."

You couldn't help the sour look on your face. "Well thanks, you made feel like I deserved it."

Remus said your name pleadingly, taking a step forward. "You didn't. I'm so sorry, I really am. I've been regretting it ever since, and I know it was a month ago-"

"Yeah, it was a month ago Remus, and you're only apologising just now," you snapped, letting out the pain you had been feeling ever since. "I wasn't even sure you cared at all."

Something in Remus' face hardened. "Will you please stop being so frustrating and just let me talk?"

"I'm the frustrating one? No, you've been pissing me off. What happened to you was terrible, and I tried to be there for you, and for a bit, I tried to understand your anger at me, but I just felt so hurt," you poured out without thinking, nearly choking on your own voice. "You always told me I was doing more than enough — I never realised it was too much."

"No, it wasn't! I'm here to tell you that none of what I said was true. It was wrong, I was wrong to you, and it's okay if you don't forgive me now, but please just hear me out. I want you to know that I truly am sorry, that I hate myself for the way I've been treating you. I miss you."

Your rapid breath hitched at that. You weren't sure if the water on your face was all from the rain, or your own tears.

He missed you. Did he? Did he miss you as much as you had missed him, despite your anger?

"I just don't understand," you started, voice shaky, "how you made up with Sirius, and you're so willing to be friends with him again, when you still won't make amends with me. You have the right to choose to forgive him, but I can't- God, it just makes me feel like shit, Remus. Was I really such a bad friend?"

You watched the realisation dawn on Remus' face, and you felt a sick satisfaction. You wanted him to know how horrible he had made you feel, how heavy your heart had felt as you watched him act like normal with Sirius, when he wouldn't even look at you.

"I didn't know you felt that way," said Remus quietly.

"Of course you didn't, you never talked to me!" You shouted tearfully.

"You never talked to me either!" Remus shot back.

"Because I thought you wanted nothing to do with me!" You confessed, bottom lip wobbling.

Remus' face softened, sorrow swimming in his eyes, and you looked away, embarrassed with yourself.

"You're my best friend," said Remus softly, "I will never turn against you, and I can't believe you would ever think that."

You let out a wet scoff. "Best friend. Is that all I am to you?"

Remus' eyebrows furrowed. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know, you're just confusing! I thought I knew how to read you, but then you gave me all of these signs, and I didn't know what to think!" You admitted, not realising what you were telling him. "And now I-"

You cut yourself off, eyes widening as that's when the realisation came. Had you really just been about to confess your love to your best friend.

"You what?" Remus asked quietly, and you refused to look at him.

"Nothing."

A brief silence passed, only filled with the sound of heavy rain.

"Signs... you give confusing signs. You're the one who tried to kiss me!" Remus said with exasperation.

Your heart dropped, eyes narrowing at him furiously. "I tried to talk about it, but you refused!"

"Yeah, because I'm in love with you and I didn't want to ruin our friendship!"

The air was stolen from you. "What?"

The colour drained from Remus' face, panic sweeping over his face. "I mean- I didn't..." Remus trailed off when he saw the bewildered look on your face, and he sighed in defeat. "Shit."

"You... you're..." you stammered, struggling to process what the hell was going on. He had really just said that, or were you losing your mind?

"I'm sorry," Remus blurted out, and he groaned as he ran a hand over his wet face. "Shit. I can't believe I said that. I- we can forget this, you can forget I ever said that. I'm not trying to ask anything of you, I know you don't feel the same and that we're friends, that's all we ever have to be. I'll get over it, I promise-"

"Don't."

"What?"

You slowly walked forward, your heart pounding out of your chest. "Don't get over it. Please don't."

Remus' eyebrows furrowed. "I don't understand."

So you made him understand, by surging forward and grabbing his collar, smashing your lips on his.

It only went on for a few seconds before you abruptly pulled away, letting go of him completely. Your hands flew to your mouth, chest heaving as Remus gaped at you.

"Holy shit, I'm sorry I just did it like that. That was too much..."

You trailed off as Remus walked back towards you, gently removing your hands from your mouth and looking straight into your eyes tenderly, his pupils dilating.

"Do you... feel the same way?" Remus whispered, the fear evident in his voice.

The tension left you, staring back into his eyes fondly. "I think I've been in love with you for years, I just never realised it."

You noticed the pause in Remus' breath, all before his hands cradled your face and pulled you in to press his lips against yours.

You weren’t sure what to do with your hands before you settled them on his waist. This wasn’t your first kiss, but it felt like it, because no one else’s lips had affected you this way before. Your heart flew out of your chest, embracing his pounding one as he pulled you flush against his body, his lips still claiming yours.

His hands started to travel down your body, and you raised one of your hands to his chest, the other raking through his hair. Remus groaned, and suddenly the kiss took a turn, growing to be passionate and fierce as he bent over slightly over you. He tilted his head, a delicious angle as he kissed you like a man starved, devouring you like you were his cure.

The rain still poured down on both of you, continuing to soak your bodies, but neither of you cared. All that mattered to you was him, was the feeling of being so close to him like you had always craved without realising. The last piece of the puzzle finally slotted in, the piece having been right in front of you this whole time.

You eventually had to pull away to catch your breaths, but you stayed close as you both panted, pressing your forehead against his.

“I’ve been waiting so long for that,” Remus admitted breathlessly, his eyes half-closed.

You huffed out a laugh. “Worth it?”

His eyes opened all the way, the love in his irises now clearer than ever. “Absolutely. I’m sorry for everything.”

“You’re forgiven,” you said instantaneously. You smiled softly, sliding your hand from his hair to cup his cheek. “I love you.”

Remus laughed softly, as if this was the best thing ever happening to him. “I love you.”

summary -> it’s impossible to beat Spencer at chess | spencer reid x reader

wc -> 1k

WARNINGS: teeth rotting sweet, a tad inappropriate, Spencer being totally adorable.

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the jet was always a place of solace after a grueling case. some agents unwound with a book, others caught up on sleep, and morgan preferred playful banter. but you? you had a different kind of post-case ritual—one that involved a gorgeous genius and an old wooden chessboard.

you weren’t quite sure when it started, but at some point, you and spencer had developed an unspoken tradition of playing chess on the plane. it had begun as a way to pass time, but over the months, it had become something more. something personal.

and frustrating. because no matter how hard you tried, how many strategies you memorized, or how many times you attempted to outmaneuver him, you never won. ever. tonight was no different.

the team had just wrapped up a case in florida, a long and exhausting one that had taken its toll on everyone. you were relieved to be heading home. as soon as the jet leveled off in the sky, you found yourself setting up the chessboard on the small table between you and spencer. his eyes lit up in that boyish way they always did when he was presented with an playful challenge. “are you sure you want to do this again?” he teased, his fingers already shuffling the pieces into place. you crossed your arms and gave him a defiant smirk, “one of these days, i’m going to win.”

summary -> your first time staying over at boyfriend spencer’s apartment | reader x spencer

wc -> 1.2k

WARNINGS -> established relationship, spencer is a cutie patootie

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spencer’s apartment smells like old books and bergamot tea. not in a strong way - more like a feeling than a scent, the kind that clings to the air and settles gently into your clothes.

you’ve been here before, just not for very long. usually just to drop him off, steal a kiss at the doorway, exchange a quiet laugh in the hallway. but tonight feels different.

the door clicks shut behind you, muffling the sound of rain still falling outside.

your hair is damp, and your coat clings to your arms, the cold clinging harder. spencer is already shrugging off his own jacket, his fingers moving in quick, practiced motions.

and when he sees you struggling with yours, he’s there - reaching out with a soft, “here, let me.”

his hands are warm. he peels the coat from your shoulders like it’s made of something delicate, folding it over a hook near the door before offering you a towel from a small basket tucked by the shoe rack.