☕️ 📚 🎶

It’s a Saturday morning at Nevermore, and you’re happy to finally have some time with your boyfriend after a long week of classes, tests and unsupervised experiments with one near death experience involving a spell that was definitely not in the syllabus.

You barely made it through Friday, holding on to the promise of the weekend, just the two of you. Over one year together already but he still manages to drive you completely insane. He send you a note on Friday, “Come by. I’m working on something. Bring patience.” And you should’ve know better by now.

Now it’s Saturday morning, and you’re sitting alone on his bed in his dark, organised dorm room while he sits across the room at his desk, deep in concentration - sleeves rolled up, head bent low over his notebook. He’s sketching something, probably diagrams or mechanisms, drawing them with that sharp focus he gets whenever he’s working on a new invention.

Numbers and equations fill the margins. You recognize pieces of an energy circuit he’s talked about before. Probably another unstable prototype he’ll test in the Iago Tower later this week. He hasn’t looked at you properly once since you got here. And you know he’s doing it on purpose.

Isaac can lose himself in his work for hours, yes, but not like this. Not when you’re here, in his dorm. Not when you’re wearing his hoodie and nothing else. Not when you stretch out on his bed in full view, waiting. Watching.

He’s toying with you. He does this sometimes, just to remind you who’s in control. He makes you wait. He sees how long it takes for you to snap. To crawl into his lap. To ask for what you want. And sometimes... you do. But not this time. This time, you decide to wait him out. So far, you lasted eight hours.

Even last night, when you curled up in his bed while he kept working, he leaned over just enough to kiss your temple and whisper, “Sleep well, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.” When you woke up, he was already sat at his desk again, writing something down in his notebook and continuing what he started last night.

You decide to take a shower in the hope that he will join you, but that doesn't work either. When you get out of the shower you walk around his dorm room in the smallest towel you can find, and not once do you feel his eyes on you. He stays seated at his desk, hunched over his notebook. He’s completely immersed. He’s driving you crazy.

“Isaac.” You frown a little, trying to get his attention once more. “Mhm?” he hums. “Isaac, put the notebook down,“ you say. “Why would I do that?” You can’t see his face, but you can hear the smirk in his voice. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He always does. The fact that he’s making you frustrated only seems to amuse him.

“Because you solve equations faster than a spell can activate, and you’ve been sketching that thing for over eight hours now. It’s not that complicated. Isaac, please.” You step in front of him now, droplets of water still sliding down your skin. He doesn’t look up and just turns a page and keeps drawing, pen scratching across the paper.

You take a breath, then make your final move. You drop the towel. And for a few seconds, there’s nothing. Then, finally, unbearably slowly, he lifts his eyes from the page to your face. “Is there something you want, love?” His smile is soft and his eyes don’t even flicker down. They stay locked on yours. You almost give in, almost turn away and pick the towel back up but you don’t.

“You know what I want,” you grumble. “I’m a Da Vinci and not a mind reader,” he says, voice smooth and maddeningly patient. “You’ll have to use your words.” You flush. He always makes you say it. Spell it out. Beg, sometimes. But you’ve needed him from the moment you stepped into the room, and by now, you’re already trembling.

“I want you,” you breathe out shakily. "Fuck me. Please." You add, already used to begging him by now. "Well, since you asked so nicely." He slides his chair a little to the side so you can get closer to him but made no move to stand up, instead he starts to open his pants and pulls out his semi hard cock, giving it a few strokes. You can feel yourself getting wetter and watch every move he makes.

"Come here, love,“ he says and when you take a step forward, getting closer, he pulls you down onto his lap. You breathe in his scent and press yourself against him, eager for more. But when you try to give him a kiss he shakes his head. "No, not yet. I want you to sit here, on my cock, waiting patiently like the needy slut you are. And when I‘m finished here l'm going to give you what you've been begging for all night, understood?"

You groan in frustration. "Isaac please I -" you start but he cuts you off quickly. "What, you can't even wait for like 20 more minutes while I finish what I'm doing?" You decide to bit back any other complaints and give his cock a few pumps instead, feeling him growing harder beneath you. Then you line his tip up with your hole and sink yourself down on him slowly, enjoying the feeling of him buried deep inside of you.

"That‘s a good girl. Now, love, you know the rules. No moving until I tell you that you can.“ He brushes a strand of hair from your face, leans forward to give you a kiss on the forehead and then pulls you closer against him by your waist. As much as you usually enjoy warming his cock, you want more. It takes all the control you have not to move your hips and grind against him and with every minute it gets harder.

It feels like the time doesn’t pass and you're becoming more and more impatient. He's made you wait for so long and this situation isn't making things any better, quite the opposite. You glance at his notebook to see exactly what he's working on, but you only understand half of what he's writing and sketching. Nevertheless, you're fascinated.

There's always something he's working on, he's constantly coming up with new ideas, and all the machines he builds get better each time. Luckily, he's stopped pretending he needs a long time to think everything through like he used to last night. He's currently working an equation out, and you hope it won't take him much longer.

You shift in his lap, burying your head in his neck and his grip on your hip tightens again. He rolls his hips agonisingly slowly, as if he is just moving in his chair, but of course he uses the opportunity to tease you before he stills once again. He stops for a moment, looks down to you and gives you another kiss, this time on your head.

“You‘re making a mess on my pants, love,“ he says and chuckles. “Not my fault, you make me wait even though you know how much I need you,” you say, trying really hard not to move. He laughs and leans back on the chair, watching you with hungry eyes. Then he finally moves his hands down to your clit and starts rubbing circles.

You bite down on your lip to hold back a moan, frustration building up in your stomach. You know that if you do try to get more relief, his hands will be off you in an instant. "Isaac, please,” you plead. “I’m not finished, love. You have to be patient,” he whispers in your ear before he starts to kiss down your neck, biting down gently and leaving a hickey. He leans back to admire his work while his fingers are still on you.

You are a complete mess by now and you realize that you are slowly losing control. When he applies more pressure on your clit you whimper and grind your hips against him. He immediately stops you. “I'm not finished yet, like I said - you have to be patient. You can do that for me, can't you?" He asks and the feeling of his breath on your neck is driving you crazy.

"No, Isaac, please, I need to..." you pant but he cuts you off. “You need to wait, like a good girl. I’ll be done soon,” he says and grins. "But I need - I need to come," you say and your hips move forward again. You don't even try to stop yourself from continuing the movement, chasing the pleasure he doesn’t want to give you just yet.

"Couldn't you have waited a couple more minutes? I was so close to solving this equation but you keep distracting me," he says and lifts his hand off of you to grab your hips and stop you from moving again. He holds you in a tight grip - definitely leaving bruises - not letting you move.

“Please,” you beg once more. You need him so bad that you don’t care about what he said. You know you broke the rules but you no longer care about the possible consequences. Finally, he puts his pen and notebook aside. "You need me that much?" he asks and moves his hips against yours. It’s unexpected and you can only reply with a moan, unable to answer him.

When he sees your reaction he immediately does it again and you feel his cock twitch inside of you. "Tell me, love, what do you want me to do?" he asks and picks up his pace. After waiting for so long, desperate and horny, everything feels even more intense than it usually does. He keeps his eyes on you, observing every little reaction.

He starts kissing down your body - your cheek, your neck, your breasts. He stops there for a moment, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and squeezing the other one. You observe his actions and seeing his big, slender hand around your breast is a sight you didn't expect to enjoy this much.

You moan his name and he looks up and follows your gaze. "Like what you see, love?" he asks and you nod. His hands continue to roam over your body, down to your stomach and between your thighs once again. He keeps his eyes on you, observing every little reaction, before he finally runs his fingers through your folds again. "So wet, is this all for me?" he asks and you nod.

"Words, love. Tell me how good I make you feel," he says, stopping for a moment. "Y-yes. All for you," you breath out and he looks satisfied. With one finger he starts to trail circles around your clit, slowly applying more and more pressure. You can't help but lean forward to watch. "Looks like my hands are quite a distraction to you," he says and chuckles before his other hand wraps around your throat, squeezing just perfectly.

You don't respond, too focused on the pleasure. With the sight in front of you, the feeling of his cock inside you and his hand wrapped around your throat it doesn't take long for your orgasm to build up. Your legs start to shake slightly and you clench around him. You're almost there when he suddenly pulls out. You whine. "Isaac, what the hell are you doing? I was so close!"

“I know, but not yet,” he simply says before he lifts you up and lays you on his desk. He starts to take his clothes off, painfully slow to tease you again, before he leans down and spreads your legs further apart. He lines himself up at your entrance, sliding through your wet folds and teasing your clit again before he finally pushes inside you. "So tight and wet for me, love. You're all mine now," he says.

The room is filled with your moans and whimpers and when Isaac looks down and sees his cock sliding in and out of you he groans. You wouldn't have thought that something could turn you on even more, but hearing him groan certainly did. "Oh god, so good. PI - please, don't stop," you manage to breath out. His grip on your hips tightens and he increases his pace.

He can feel you clench around him and almost feels bad for what he's about to do. He applies pressure on your clit again, playing attention to your reactions and when your close again he pulls out of you. "A- Again? Are you fucking serious?" you ask furiously. You can tell he enjoys the control he has over you. "I hate you so much right now," you say but he just grins.

"Say it like you mean it," he says before he suddenly pulls you, turns you around and bends you over the desk. He immediately slides back into you, pounding into you hard from behind and hitting new angles and reaching spots you never could. One of his hand slides up your back and into your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail and pulling hard.

Your back arches up and you can feel your body pressed against his. His other hand suddenly comes down on your ass, spanking you. You moan out his name so loud that you're afraid everybody now knows what you're doing in here. "That's what you wanted, am I right? For me to fuck you? To spank you?" Your eyes roll back in pleasure and you're too overwhelmed to answer him.

Isaac how ever doesn't like that. The hand he just hand in your hair goes down to your throat again while he gives you an another spank. "Answer me," he says and slows down, pressing you against his body and leaning down next to your ear. "Tell me how much you love this," he whispers in your ear. "I- I love this. I love it when you fuck me hard," you say quickly, afraid that he'll not let you come at all if you don't.

"Good girl," he says and kisses the spot behind your ear gently before he picks up his pace again. You can feel him twitch inside you, telling you that he's getting close now too. "I'm gonna tell you when you're allowed to come. I want us to come together, do you understand?" he asks as if he's read your thoughts. "Yes," you breathe out quickly before you get too lost in the pleasure again.

He thrusts into you for a few times before he slides his hand forward, teasing your clit with his fingers again. "Come for me, love. Now," he says and you let go. Your orgasm crashes over you and you never had one this intense before. You can feel him twitch inside you before he finishes too.

For a second you see stars. When you finally come down, he lets go of you and pulls out. You’re completely out of breath and more than happy when he lifts you up in his arms and brings you to his bed, laying you down there before he slides under the bedsheets next to you. Neither of you say a word but he holds you close to him, gently stroking your hair. It's a quiet, peaceful moment.

His breathing slows against your back, chest rising and falling in sync with yours. His hand rests on your waist, his thumb brushing lazy circles into your skin. “You okay?” he murmurs against your shoulder, his voice rough from the late hour and everything before. You nod. “Mhm. Just... calm. Satisfied,” you reply with a grin. He presses a soft kiss to your neck. “Good.”

You feel his arm tighten slightly around you, pulling you in until there’s barely space between you at all. Like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you against him. After a moment, he speaks up again. “You’re staying, right?” You shift just enough to glance back at him, one brow lifting. “Where else would I be?” He lets out a quiet breath, almost a laugh, but there’s something tender behind it.

“Nowhere. I just needed to hear it.” You turn your head fully and kiss the corner of his mouth. “Well... hear it again, then. I’m not going anywhere. I love you, you idiot, you won't get rid of me that easily.” His smile lingers as he pulls you in closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. “Good,” he murmurs. “I love you too.”

-

Huge chandeliers hang from the ceiling, their crystals casting reflections onto the floor. The light in the ballroom is warm and the flower arrangements placed on the tables consist of plants blooming in shades of violet and purple, lending the space an air of exclusivity. Music echoes across the floor and you take a deep breath.

It's beautiful here but also a little too much. Too many people. You were actually looking forward to the gala, but you imagined the evening to be completely different. When your best friend woke up sick this morning, your plans for tonight were cancelled. You didn't want to go without her, but she insisted.

"You have to go anyway," she said. "Believe me, you're missing out by staying home. Besides, it would be a shame, you look absolutely stunning in your dress!" She had truly done everything in her power to convince you to go, even though she couldn't be there herself. And somehow, you hadn't said no, which you now regret. You feel out of place without her.

With a slight shake of your head, you turn and head toward the back of the hall. Away from the music, away from the crowd. You simply need a few minutes of peace - and more alcohol. As you leave the hall, you reach for your glass and take a long sip of the cocktail you got a while ago. You feel the tension in your body ease a little.

You have the feeling that the evening is about to turn into an endless series of encounters with strangers that you'd rather just skip. But here you are and if only another sip of alcohol makes it more bearable, then so be it. You're just turning the corner when you suddenly run into something - no, someone.

"Whoa-" A hand grabs your arm, catching you just before you lose your balance. Your gaze lifts and meets a pair of deep, dark eyes that, for a moment, completely captivate you. His face is half covered by a mask made of black velvet with red details on it. It makes his eyes seem even more mysterious than they already are.

"You should be more careful," he says. You blink. You haven't seen him here tonight, in fact, his whole demeanor seems somehow... different. Calm. Observant. But not unpleasant. "Maybe you were just in the way," you counter, a little breathless. A chuckle twitches across his lips. "Maybe that's exactly what I wanted."

He doesn't let go of your hand right away, his thumb brushes the back of your hand just briefly, but enough to make your heart skip a beat. His gaze lingers on you. "Tell me... why is someone like you wandering around here alone?" You shrug slightly. "My best friend got sick, so she couldn't come. But she sent me anyway. Said I'd miss out otherwise, and I should at least go out and meet people."

He nods slowly, as if he understands, but also as if he has the feeling there's more to it. "Well, then I'm glad she sent you here. Otherwise, we probably wouldn't have met." You raise an eyebrow. "That sounds pretty... charming," you say. He grins slightly, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Charming? Let me put it this way - I like it when something interesting comes up. And this feels interesting."

You can't suppress a smile, feel the tension building between you. "And what makes you so sure that this is interesting?" He leans a little closer, his voice quieter but more intense. "Because you seem different." You can’t help but blush which he luckily can’t see because of your mask. "Well, maybe you're right." There's a brief moment of silence before his gaze wanders to the dance floor, where couples are swaying to the music.

Then he looks at you again, and there's a different warmth in his eyes. The music changes, a slow song begins, the melody soft and seductive. The lights dim slightly, the atmosphere becoming more intimate. He holds out his hand. "Do you want to dance with me?" Your heart beats faster. "With you?" He grins. "With who else?" he asks, already taking your hand to lead you onto the dance floor.

You feel the other one against your back. His touch is warm, and as you move, his gaze remains fixed on you. "I must say, you're dancing better than I expected," he says, his voice raspy and playful. "You too,” you say and he looks at you, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that? Did you think I couldn't dance well?" he asks, pretending to be offended.

“Hmm… I think maybe I'm just dancing with someone who's overconfident," you counter, giving him a mischievous look. He laughs softly, his hand lightly brushing your hip. "Confidence is important. But don't worry, I'll take this as an invitation to get to know you better." You toy with the idea of ​​pulling away, but something stops you. "What do you want to know? If I’m secretly a spy?"

"That and more," he says, leaning forward slightly, his tone softening. "Like, whether you're also looking for someone to rescue you from this boring crowd." You smile and tilt your head slightly to the side. "Maybe. But I'm not sure you're the right person to pull it off." He raises his eyebrows, surprised and amused at the same time. "Oh, really? Then you'll have to give me a chance to convince you."

His hand remains firmly on your hip, the proximity building a tingling tension between you. You feel your heart beat faster as you try not to show how electrified you are by all this. "You're pretty persistent," you say quietly, a smile spreading across your lips. "Only with the things worth it," he replies with a look that speaks louder than words.

The slow song seems endless, and as you spin, the music swirls around you. Every touch, every glance is charged with unspoken words. The music carries you on, each step feeling both familiar and excitingly new. You feel his hand holding your hip secure while his other hand lightly cups your fingertips. His gaze remains fixed on you, so intense that you barely notice the space around you.

You let yourself fall a little closer to him, your cheek almost against his chest. "You know," you whisper with a small, brave smile, "They say you shouldn't dance with strangers. But I think it's good that I'm making an exception today." He raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Yes, a very wise decision. So, how are you feeling now?"

You pull back a touch, your fingers gliding over the back of his hand. "Much better, if that's what you want to know. You're pretty convincing." His breath brushes against your skin as he answers softly, "This is just the beginning. I could show you so much more - not just on the dance floor."

You laugh softly, your voice deepening a bit. "I like it when someone is brave. Maybe I can top that." He leans forward, so close you can almost feel his heartbeat. "Why don’t you find out?" Your movements are now synchronised and you feel the heat growing between you without a word being exchanged, just glances and tender touches.

"So you're playing with fire?" you ask, slowly sliding your hand down his arm. "Only with the right people," he replies, his gaze boring into yours. You feel your heart rate quicken, your lips twitching into a provocative smile. "Then let's see how hot it can get." The slow song draws to a close, the last notes fading gently through the room.

The music almost completely fades away, and the conversations grow louder again, but the tension between you remains. He looks around briefly, his dark eyes sparkling invitingly. "Too loud here, don't you think?" he says with a charming smirk. "Come, I know a quieter spot over there."

Before you can respond, he takes your hand firmly in his again. His grip is steady but gentle, and he guides you effortlessly through the crowd. You glide past swirling bodies, each step in rhythm with the distant throb of the music. The lights dim, the voices soften, until you stop in front of a door tucked away behind a velvet curtain.

He opens it without hesitation and pulls you inside. The room behind it is small and dimly lit, secluded from the world outside. A warm silence settles over you, the flicker of light dancing across the walls and casting your shadows. He stands close, one of his hands rests on your lower back, fingers lightly tracing over the fabric. You feel your heartbeat pick up.

"We have more time in here," he whispers, voice low and intimate, like he’s sharing a secret only you’re meant to hear. You meet his gaze more boldly now, drawn in by the intensity behind his words. "And what do you want to do with the time you've gained?" you ask, your voice teasing.

He smirks slightly, eyes scanning your face like he's trying to figure out what you're hiding. "Get to know you better. Find out what's behind that look… the one that says you're more than what you show here." You lean into him just a little, testing the waters, as his hand slides slowly along your back. His fingers move with purpose, tender but certain.

"You're good at reading people," you murmur, letting your breath brush against him. "I've had practice," he says and his thumb grazes your waist as he tilts his head slightly, eyes flicking down to your lips. "But I also like learning new things." You let out a soft laugh, arching an eyebrow. "That sounds like someone who's very confident."

"I am," he says simply. The air between you grows warmer, thicker. His scent lingers close - clean, sharp, something faintly woodsy. He draws you in by barely an inch, but you feel it everywhere. Then, just as the space between your words dissolves into something unspeakable, he pauses. His gaze flickers. “Maybe,” he murmurs, “in here… we don’t have to be quite so mysterious.”

You blink, surprised for a moment by the shift, but you catch on quickly. His fingers hover near the edge of your mask. “Only if you want to,” he says softly. You give the smallest nod. Slowly he lifts your mask, inch by inch revealing the skin, the curve of your cheek, the shape of your eyes. He exhales as if he’s seeing something rare.

“Wow,” he breathes. His fingertips brush your cheek, gently, as though trying to memorize the shape of you. You take his hand then, guiding it toward his own mask. “Your turn,” you whisper. When the mask falls, you see him fully. The clean angles of his jaw, the tiny scar on his chin, the way his eyes seem darker without the mask’s frame but no less captivating.

You both just look at each other, completely unguarded for the first time. And then he pulls you close again - closer than before, no more barriers left. His hand moves from your waist to your back, fingers pressing lightly, deliberately. You feel the heat build between you, wordless and steady. Your knees weaken, but you meet it with a steady grin.

He lowers his gaze to your lips, then back to your eyes. “I think this is going to be an interesting evening,” he says again, voice husky now. “I think -” you begin, but you never get to finish the sentence. He slams you against the wall, his lips shutting you up. Your eyes roll from the sudden pleasure and stars explode behind your eyes.

You clutch the collar of his shirt as he hoists you up in his arms and dugs his fingers into your ass. Your legs wrap around his waist in no time. He presses even closer against you, igniting lust in your lower belly. He slides his tongue into your mouth, and you let him, then he rolls his hips, his hard cock pressing against your core. He bites your lower lip and growls. “Please, I - I need…” you try to form a proper sentence but nothing comes out.

He slips his hand between the two of you, nudges your panties aside, and slides two fingers inside you. You are embarrassingly wet. He tores his mouth from yours, staring you down. "Time to finish your sentence, angel,” he says and chuckles. "I... I.." you blink, trying again to tell him what you need, but you are far too lost in the pleasure already. And he just started.

He begins to thrust his fingers in and out of you slowly, teasing you again, while his face is still dead serious. His fingers curl and hit your G-spot. His other hand travels up to your breasts, twisting one nipple roughly over your dress. Then his tongue is on your cheek, your neck and your lips again. You are tangled together like you need each other to survive.

"I...uh..," you say, fumbling for his zipper between you. He presses one of his hands over yours, pushing your palm against his hard cock. "I set the pace," he says and then he slips two more fingers into you and you are so full you think you’re going to smolder. A growl escapes your mouth and he swallows it by kissing you again while you’re coming on his fingers in an instant.

Your orgasm is so intense that your legs start to feel like jelly and you lean back against the wall to get it under control. He holds you back up, digging his fingers into your cheeks, holding your jaw in place and tapering his eyes on you. "You better taste as good as you look." He slides to his knees in one swift movement, flips you dress up and throws one of your legs over his shoulder.

His tongue drives into you with your panties still nudged to the side, and rather than licking and sucking, he starts fucking you with his tongue. You slide your fingers through his hair and roll your head against the wall as he awards you with the kind of oral sex you’d never thought is even possible. In that moment you have an intense desire to clamp your thighs around his face and keep him there forever, his tongues buried deep inside you.

Your second orgasm soarers from your toes to your head like an electric shock, sending you to heaven. He closes his lips over your sensitive clit and sucks it with force and by the time he stands up and unzips his pants you know that whether you could accommodate him or not, you’re willing to try.

He drives into you all at once, crashing you against the closet behind you, lacing your fingers together and handcuffing you to the surface. The pleasure is so overwhelming that you can’t help but writh between his arms, fighting his hands so you could touch him. It feels even better than you imagined. He's big, but it's not uncomfortable and you want more.

"Harder. You can - you can fuck me harder," you say and he chuckles when he hears how eager you are. He starts thrusts in and out of you faster, his hand wrapping around your throat. "Fuck," he hissed. "You feel amazing,“ he says when he feels you clench around him. "I can get used to this." You never felt so full before.

He starts to thrust in and out of you, hitting your G- spot. You wrap your legs around his waist and feel him even deeper inside of you. "Harder, please," you beg him and his thrusts become more intense as he fucks you faster and deeper. "You feel so good wrapped around my cock. So wet and warm, just for me,” he says and grabs your hips harder, his fingers digging into the skin, leaving bruises there.

“I could fuck you all night,” he says while his fingers keep digging deep into your hips, holding you thight. “You should see yourself. So pretty taking my cock like a good girl.”He continues to fuck you until you're crying out his name. He comes closer and wraps a hand around your throat before kissing your neck, leaving a hickey.

When he starts to circle your clit again you feel like you're going to explode from the intense pleasure. "I need to... please, please..." you whine. He chuckles, clearly amused to see you so desperate for him. "Baby, I don't understand you. You have to tell me what you want," he teases, squeezing your throat more and slowing down for a moment.

"I - I want -" you begin but get cut off again by a moan when he thrusts harder into you again. "Look at that, you're a complete mess. You clearly don't know what you want, do you? I'm afraid I have to stop then" he teases. "No!" you answer immediately, wrapping your legs around him to keep him close. "Tell me what you want then, otherwise I can't help you. Come on, I know you can do it," he says.

"I want to... I want to come. Please," you finally manage to say before your eyes roll back again. "That's it, such a good girl," he says and releases the hand around your throat to speed up his thrusts again. Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably when your orgasms hits you and he fucks you through it, finishing inside you a moment later.

You can feel his cum deep inside of you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply and giving both of you a moment to calm down. You feel his breath slow against your skin, warm and steady, as if he's trying to memorize the feeling of being close to you. His fingertips trace patterns along your side like he's not ready to let go just yet.

Neither of you speaks for a while. The music from the ball is a faint echo now, distant and muffled by thick walls and the lateness of the hour. It's quiet here. Finally, he lifts his head just enough to look at you. There’s something searching in his eyes, not just desire anymore, but curiosity. A flicker of something real.

“That was… unexpected,” he says with a breath of a smile, voice low and rough. You chuckle softly, brushing a hand through your hair. “Yeah. I don’t usually do this,” you say. “Neither do I,” he replies and you believe him. A beat passes. Your fingers find his and intertwine. “What’s your name?” he asks suddenly and it makes you laugh.

The conference room at the BAU is more quiet than usual. You, Derek, and Emily are stretched out across the room - exhausted but relaxed because you just finished your current case successfully.

“…I’m just saying,” Derek says, grinning as he leans back in his chair, “if he’d run five more seconds, I would’ve had him. No sweat.” Emily raises an eyebrow. “Sure. Right after I teleported in and read him his rights.” You chuckle. “You two should take this act on the road.”

As the laughter fades, your phone buzzes quietly on the table. You glance at it and sigh as you read the incoming message. Emily catches the shift in your expression. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?” she asks and you can hear the concern in her voice. “Yes it’s just my best friend. She’s getting married and she reminded me our dance class starts tomorrow.”

Derek perks up. “Dance class? You? That’s something I’ve gotta see.” You give him a look. “Don’t get too excited. She didn’t want to do it alone and dragged me into it. And now she wants me to bring a date.” Emily laughs. “She’s matchmaking and choreographing?”

“Apparently so. But honestly, I’m not thrilled about the idea of getting all up close and personal with some stranger. It just feels awkward.” Emily and Derek exchange a familiar look, the kind that never means anything good for you. They’re grinning before you can say a word. “What?” you ask suspiciously. Emily leans in. “You could always ask Spencer.“ You blink. “Spence?”

Derek leans back with a teasing smile. “Come on, he’s probably memorized every dance style from the last three centuries. And he definitely wouldn’t step on your toes that much.” Emily smirks. “And you wouldn’t have to worry about weird vibes. Plus... you'd look adorable together.” Before you can respond, the door opens and - speak of the devil - Spencer walks in, balancing a coffee and a book in one hand.

Derek immediately calls him over. “Hey, Pretty Boy! You got plans tomorrow night?” Spencer looks up, a little surprised, but walks over. “Hey. Uh… not that I know of? Why?” Derek spreads his arms like it’s obvious. “Perfect! You’re going to a dance class.” Spencer freezes mid-step, blinking. “Wait… what?”

You cover your face with your hand, already regretting everything. Derek grins. “Our friend here” - he says and nods toward you - “needs a partner. Her best friend is getting married, dragged her into dance lessons, and wants her to bring someone.” Spencer turns to you, brows slightly raised. “You need a dance partner?”

You glance up at him with an awkward smile. “Only if you’re willing to suffer through it with me.” Spencer hesitates for half a second. “I mean… I did read a book on traditional ballroom etiquette last year. And technically, dancing is just applied physics, right? I mean, I’d… I’d be happy to help. But only if you actually want that. Not because they volunteered me.”

You give him a small smile . “Yeah. I’d like that. If you’re okay with it.” Spencer smiles, that shy, crooked grin that always makes your heart beat faster. “Of course I am. Then I’ll do my best not to step on your feet,“ you say.

“I mean, statistically, in beginner-level partner dances, foot-stepping is actually one of the most common sources of anxiety, especially when one or both dancers have little prior experience. But coordinated movement improves rapidly when you practice with someone you’re comfortable around. The brain responds better to physical rhythm when cortisol levels are lower, and familiarity tends to reduce that.”

He pauses, realizing what he’s doing, and pushes his hair back awkwardly. “So... what I’m saying is... uhm… It’ll probably go better than you think.” You can’t help but smile at him because it’s classic Reid, and because, somehow, that long-winded explanation actually makes you feel better.

Derek laughs, clapping him on the back. “That’s the attitude, genius.” Emily just laughs, already pulling out her phone. “Oh, I have to be there for this.” You groan. “This is going to be a disaster.” But even as you say it, there’s a part of you that’s actually kind of looking forward to tomorrow night.

-

It’s the next evening, and you stand outside the dance studio with your best friend and her fiancé. The air smells faintly of warm asphalt and summer as you slowly approach the entry with its tall windows. Your heart beats a little faster, but it’s not just nerves about the dance class.

“I still can’t believe Spencer’s your dance partner,” your friend says, grinning wide as she clutches her bag a little tighter. “I mean, we’ve known him forever, and for years been waiting for something to happen between you two. And now, here he is.”

You laugh softly, a little embarrassed. “I know, I know. I can hardly believe it myself. But yeah, there’s definitely something more there… even if we never really say it out loud.” She winks at you. “Well, it’s about time. And now that you’re dancing together, there’s no escaping it.”

Just then, Spencer comes around the corner. His hair is its usual tousled mess, a shy smile playing on his lips. You shyly raise your hand and wave. He waves back, his eyes lighting up a little as he walks toward you. “Hey,” he says softly, and your friend grins mischievously and nudges you before she turns to Spencer.

“So, Mr. Partner-in-Crime, ready not to step on my friend’s toes tonight?” Spencer smiles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ll do my best.” With a last laugh, you all step inside the dance studio together, ready for whatever this evening will bring.

-

The dance studio is softly lit, with polished wooden floors that gleam under the overhead lights. Mirrors line one wall, reflecting every awkward step and nervous glance. You stand beside Spencer and your dancing teacher Derya - a graceful woman with a beautiful smile - claps her hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright, everyone, we’ll start with the basic box step,” she says, demonstrating the slow, deliberate movement. “Step forward with your left foot, side with your right, then close your left foot next to the right. Then step back with your right foot, side with your left, and close your right foot next to the left. It’s called a ‘box’ because the steps trace a square pattern.”

You watch her carefully, then glance sideways at Spencer. He’s focused, biting his lip just a little. You can tell he’s trying not to overthink it, but knowing him, his brain is already running a mile a minute. You give a small, encouraging smile. “Ready to give it a try?” He nods. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

You both start moving through the steps together, slow and careful. Your feet don’t trip, and you manage to stay mostly coordinated. Spencer matches your movements, his brows furrowed in concentration. “It’s like a rhythm puzzle,” he says quietly, “trying to line everything up. Actually, the box step is interesting because it creates a closed loop of motion. From a neuroscience perspective, repeating a pattern like this helps build muscle memory through repeated neural pathways.”

You grin. “Only you could make dancing sound like a science lecture.” He shrugs, a little embarrassed but pleased. “It’s all connected, right?” Derya walks around, offering tips and gentle corrections. Spencer’s posture straightens, and you notice his nervous energy starting to ease. You feel your own tension relax, too.

After a few minutes, you’re both finding a rhythm. You even manage a small smile as Spencer accidentally steps a little too close. “Okay, not bad so far,” Derya says cheerfully. “Let’s add some turns.” You swallow, suddenly feeling the class get more challenging. She demonstrates a gentle spin for the leader, followed by a turn for the follower.

Spencer leans toward you, whispering, “You’re the follower, right?” You nod, feeling butterflies in your stomach. “Okay, I’ll try not to spin you into the floor.” You laugh softly. “Fair enough.” The music shifts, a soft, rhythmic beat filling the room. You start the turn, Spencer guiding you with surprising confidence. For a moment, it feels almost effortless.

Then, just as you complete the spin, your foot catches harshly on Spencer’s, and you stumble badly, nearly falling forward. Instinctively, Spencer’s arms shoot out, catching you firmly around your waist. You find yourself pressed close to him, his chest warm against yours.

Your eyes meet, and everything else seems to fade - the mirrors, the other dancers, the music. It’s just the two of you, caught in this quiet, unexpected moment. “Are you alright?” Spencer asks softly, his breath a little uneven. You nod, heart pounding. “Yeah… thanks to you.”

He doesn’t let go right away, his eyes searching yours as if trying to read something deeper. A small, shy smile tugs at his lips. “I promise I’ll be more careful,” he says quietly. You smile back, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest that has nothing to do with the dance studio heat.

Derya claps her hands again. “Excellent effort, everyone! Dancing is about connection and trust, not perfection. Keep that in mind as you practice.” You and Spencer exchange a glance, both silently acknowledging the growing closeness between you.

Derya finishes today's class 30 minutes later and everyone starts packing up their things and taking off their dancing shoes. Only now do you realize how exhausting it really was. But you still had fun. This dance class doesn't seem to have been a bad idea, especially since it's bringing you closer to Spencer.

As you step outside the studio, the warm night air feels refreshing after the concentrated energy inside. You glance at Spencer, a small smile playing on your lips. “You’re actually not bad at this,” you say, teasing lightly but honestly. He looks surprised but pleased. “Really? I’m glad to hear that.”

You take a breath, gathering your thoughts. “Thank you… for doing this with me. I’m really glad it’s you and not some complete stranger I have to dance with.” Spencer smiles softly, his eyes meeting yours. “Me too. It makes it easier.”

You both stand there for a moment, the quiet between you comfortable, as if something has shifted, just a little, in the space between you. Spencer glances at you, curiosity in his eyes. “So, when’s the next class?” he turns over to your friend. “Thursday evening, same time,“ she says. He nods. “Alright, I’ll be ready.”

You smile and start gathering your things. “Well, I should get going. But you better brace yourself. I’m already curious what kind of comments the others will have tomorrow.” He raises an eyebrow and gives you a shy smile. “Sounds like I should prepare myself then.”

You laugh softly. “Definitely. It’s going to be interesting.” With a final smile, you wave goodbye and head off, your heart still fluttering from the night’s unexpected moments. Thank God Derek set Spencer up for this.

-

The BAU bullpen is quiet when you arrive early the next morning. You grab a coffee from the kitchen and lean against the counter, still waking up and replaying last night’s dance class in your mind. The soft hum of the lights fills the room, and for a moment, you enjoy the calm before the storm.

A few minutes later, the rest of the team starts filing in, one by one. Emily appears first, spotting you immediately and grinning like she’s been waiting for this moment all night. “So?” she asks, practically bouncing on her toes. “How was the dance class? Did Spencer survive being your partner?” You laugh softly. “He did, surprisingly well.”

Derek strolls in behind her, smirking. “I’m just wondering how many times you guys managed not to step on each other’s toes.” You roll your eyes playfully. “More than you’d think. But it wasn’t too bad.” Emily nudges Derek, shooting him a knowing look. “You know, it’s about time these two actually spend some real time together. I swear, you can feel the tension from across the room.”

You glance over, cheeks warming, but before you can say anything, Garcia pops in from her office with a big smile. “Oh, you two better spill the details! How’s the new dance duo doing? Any sparks flying on the dance floor?” The whole team seems to lean in, waiting for you to confirm the rumors.

You clear your throat, trying to keep it light. “It was fun. We’re both a bit awkward, but we’re learning. And yes, Spencer’s surprisingly good at not stepping on my feet.” Derek laughs, “That’s promising.” Emily grins wider. “Just wait. We’re all rooting for you two.” You smile, feeling a little nervous but mostly happy.

Just then, Spencer walks into the bullpen, slightly rumpled but with that familiar focused look on his face. As soon as he spots you and the others gathered around, he raises an eyebrow. Emily grins and waves him over. “Hey, Pretty Boy! How was your big dance debut last night?”

Spencer approaches, trying to keep his usual composed demeanor, but you catch a brief smile tugging at his lips. “It went well, thank you. I managed not to completely embarrass myself.” Derek smirks, exchanging a glance with Emily. “We’re still deciding if that counts as a win after the whole ‘almost falling’ incident.”

You laugh, nudging Spencer gently. “Yeah, you definitely stepped on my foot at least once, but I survived.” Spencer chuckles softly, eyes meeting yours. Emily leans in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Now that you’re officially stuck with her for the whole course, you better get used to being close and not just on the dance floor.”

Spencer’s cheeks flush slightly, but he nods. “I suppose I’ll do my best.” Derek chuckles. “Sounds like commitment to me.” The teasing is annoying but somehow still nice, filled with the unspoken hope from everyone that this dancing partnership might lead to something more. You glance at Spencer, your heart fluttering just a bit. Maybe this dance class really is about more than just learning a few dancing steps.

-

The past few weeks fly by faster than you expect. Between cases, paperwork, and dance lessons, the days blur into each other. Before you know it, there are only a few classes left before the wedding.

One afternoon at the BAU, you find yourself in the break room with Emily. She leans against the counter with a mug of coffee in hand, giving you that knowing look she’s mastered so well. “So,” she says casually, “only a couple lessons left. You and Spencer still managing to stay upright?”

You laugh softly. “Mostly. We’ve actually gotten… kind of good at it. He’s way more focused than I expected.” Emily smirks. “Focused, huh? Is that what we’re calling it now?” You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “Okay, maybe a little more than just focused.”

She watches you for a moment, then tilts her head. “Have you thought about taking him to the wedding? As your plus-one, I mean.” You pause, caught off guard but only for a second. The truth is, you have thought about it. More than once. “Yeah,” you admit. “I’ve actually been thinking about that a lot lately. I feel… really comfortable with him. It’s easy. And he makes me feel like I don’t have to force anything.”

Emily’s expression softens. “That sounds like the beginning of something real.”You look down at your hands, then back up at her. “Maybe it is.” She nudges your shoulder gently. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think he’d be honored to go with you. You should ask him.” You nod, a quiet smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah… I think I will.”

-

It’s later that evening, and you’re standing outside the dance studio once again, bundled in your coat against the cool air. Your best friend scrolls through her phone next to you, her brow furrowing. “Ugh,” she sighs. “I just got a message that our class is canceled tonight. Our teacher is sick.” You glance up at the familiar building, its windows dark. “Seriously? That’s a first.”

“Yeah.” She slips her phone back into her bag and shrugs. “Honestly, I’m kind of glad. I still have so much left to plan for the wedding. I’m going to head home and try to knock a few more things off the list.” You nod. “Makes sense.”

She gives you a quick hug. “But maybe you can still get a little practice in. You know, since you’ve got your favorite partner.” You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips as she waves and disappears down the sidewalk. Just as she turns the corner, you hear footsteps approaching.

You glance up and there’s Spencer, walking toward you with his usual thoughtful expression and his bag slung over one shoulder. “Hey,” he says as he reaches you, “did I miss something? The place looks dark.” You shift your weight slightly, brushing your hair behind your ear. “No, you’re on time. Class is canceled, our teacher’s out sick.”

Spencer frowns lightly. “Oh. That’s too bad.” You hesitate for a second, then glance up at him, a little shy. “I was thinking… if you’re not busy, maybe you could come back to my place? We could still practice a bit so we uhm… don’t fall behind.”

Spencer looks pleasantly surprised, but he smiles right away. “Yeah. I’d really like that.” You feel something warm settle in your chest as the two of you turn away from the studio and start walking side by side into the night.

-

Back at your apartment, the two of you clear a space in the living room. The lights are soft, a playlist humming quietly in the background. Spencer shrugs off his jacket, and you kick off your shoes, both of you slipping easily into the rhythm you’ve built over the past few weeks.

You dance for a while. The two of you are focused at first, counting steps under your breath, trying to remember what Derya showed you. Spencer is careful, gentle in how he moves with you, guiding your steps like he’s thinking through every motion before he makes it.

Time passes quickly, and soon you find yourself letting out a small laugh as you miss a beat and stumble slightly. “Okay,” you say, breathless, stepping back, “I need a break before I collapse.” You sink onto the sofa, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Spencer stands there for a moment before dropping down next to you, equally flushed from effort.

“I was going to ask,” you say between breaths, “do you want to order something? I’m starving.” Spencer nods immediately. “That sounds amazing. What are you in the mood for?” he asks. “Italian?” you suggest, already reaching for your phone. “There’s a great place a few blocks from here.”

He leans a little closer to see the menu with you. “Looks good.” You both make your selections, place the order, and set your phones aside. There’s a short, comfortable silence until Spencer turns to you with a slight tilt of his head. “We’ve got a little time before the food gets here,” he says. “Want to run through that one spin again?”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “You’re relentless.” He grins. “Just committed.” You sigh with mock resignation and get back to your feet. “Alright, one more round.” But this time, the tone shifts completely. Neither of you is really focused. You’re laughing too much, teasing each other as you try to stay in sync. Your timing’s all over the place, and you keep stepping on each other’s toes.

“You’re totally throwing me off!” you giggle as you spin a beat too late. Spencer holds up his hands in defense. “You’re the one who said you were starving, maybe it’s low blood sugar.” You roll your eyes, then smile as he takes your hand again. “Okay, okay, one more time.”

He tries to lead you into the spin, but your foot catches his, and suddenly, you lose your balance. “Wait - !” You stumble, grabbing instinctively at his arm - but you both go down, landing in a heap on the carpet. You land on top of him, your hands pressed to his chest to keep from crashing into him entirely.

There’s a beat of stunned silence. You look down at him, heart racing, and your cheeks flush bright red. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry -” But Spencer’s not complaining. He looks up at you with wide, amused eyes… and something softer beneath. You don’t move. Neither does he.

Your breath catches a little as your eyes meet his, and suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of how close you are and how warm his hands feel, one resting gently at your back. You lean in, slowly, without thinking, just a few inches separating you now - Ding dong. You freeze. Spencer blinks.

You scramble upright with an embarrassed laugh, brushing your hair back quickly as you hurry to the door. “That must be the food.” You open it to find the delivery driver holding a warm paper bag, which you accept with a grateful smile.

Back inside, you carry the food to the living room, and Spencer is already sitting upright on the floor, trying to act like the moment didn’t just happen but his ears are just as red as your cheeks. You sit down beside him again, passing him a container and chopsticks.

Neither of you says anything about what just happened. But the air between you hums a little differently now. You unpack the food in quiet motions, placing the warm containers on the coffee table between you and Spencer. The scent of tomato and garlic fills the room, but neither of you reaches for anything right away.

For a brief moment, there’s silence - not uncomfortable, just… charged. Like the air hasn’t quite settled since the moment on the floor. You clear your throat gently, breaking the silence as you hand Spencer his fork. “So,” you start, voice soft but steady, “I get to bring someone to the wedding.”

He looks up at you, giving you his full attention. “And,” you continue, tucking a loose hair behind your ear, “we’ve been dancing together all this time, and… I just feel like it makes sense. I mean only if you want to. But I’d really like it if you came with me.” You glance at him, nervous suddenly. “Would that be okay? Would you want to?”

Spencer doesn’t answer right away. Not because he’s unsure, but because he’s smiling, slowly and sincerely, the kind of smile that reaches his eyes. “I’d like that,” he says softly. “I’d really like that.” You feel a warmth settle in your chest. You smile back, and this time, the silence that follows isn’t awkward at all. You both reach for your food, the easy rhythm between you returning but now with something new in it.

-

The next morning at the BAU, you’re standing by the coffee machine when Emily walks in and spots you. She gives you that sharp, curious look she always has when she knows there’s something to dig into. “So,” she says, raising her brow as she pours herself a cup, “did you end up asking him?”

You try to play it cool, but your smile gives you away almost immediately. “Yeah. I asked him.” Emily blinks, then breaks into a wide grin. “And?” she asks curiously. “He said yes,” you say, a little quieter. “He’s going to be my plus-one.” Emily’s grin widens even further. “Finally.”

Unfortunately for your hopes of a low-profile announcement, Derek happens to walk by right at that moment and naturally, he catches every word. “Ohhh?” He turns, hands on his hips. “Did I just hear that Pretty Boy is officially wedding-bound with you?” Before you can answer, Penelope pokes her head around the corner like she’s been summoned by gossip radar. “Wait what?” she gasps. “Spencer’s your plus-one?!”

You groan, but you’re laughing. “Can I tell one person something in peace around here?” Derek claps you gently on the shoulder. “Absolutely not. This is what happens when you drop relationship bombs in public spaces.” Penelope’s eyes are practically sparkling. “It’s about time! Honestly, you two have been orbiting each other like anxious little planets. Did you kiss yet?” You go still for a second, then mutter, “Almost.”

The collective gasp from the three of them is dramatic and immediate. “Wait, what do you mean almost?” Emily demands. You cover your face for a moment, then lower your hands with a sigh and a smile. “We were dancing, we fell - long story - and I was about to… you know. And then the food delivery showed up.” There’s a beat of silence.

And then Penelope throws her head back and groans. “I swear, if I ever meet that delivery guy, I’m filing a complaint. Or giving him a very stern look.” Derek laughs, shaking his head. “Man, the tension is killing me. I might wear a tux to this wedding just to be ready if something finally happens.”

Emily leans against the counter, sipping her coffee like she’s watching her favorite soap opera. “So, when is this wedding we’re all living vicariously through?” You grin, cheeks warm. “This weekend.” Another chorus of gasps. Penelope looks like she might combust.

“Oh my god. That’s practically tomorrow! I need to emotionally prepare.” You raise your hands. “Which is why I seriously need help. I still don’t have a dress.” Penelope doesn’t even pause. “Emergency declared. Emily, JJ, and I are coming with you.” Emily nods without hesitation. “We’re clearing our afternoon.”

You blink. “Wait—really?” JJ walks by just in time to hear and chimes in casually, “What time are we meeting?” You laugh, a little overwhelmed, but touched. “Okay, how about four?” you suggest. “Perfect,” Penelope says, already pulling up potential shops on her phone. “We’ll make you shine.” Derek shakes his head with a grin. “You guys are a whole operation.” You look around at your chaotic little work family, heart full. Yeah. You’re in good hands.

-

The soft lighting of the boutique should feel calming, but after trying on what must be your hundredth dress, you’re leaning your forehead against the fitting room mirror with a dramatic sigh. “This is it,” you mutter to yourself. “This is how I die. Buried under a pile of tulle and regret.”

Outside, you hear Penelope’s cheerful voice. “Come on, sugar! We believe in you! One more! I swear this one is going to be the one.” You roll your eyes playfully, but you pull the next dress off the hanger anyway. You slip into it slowly, almost expecting the same disappointment - too tight here, too dull there - but as soon as it falls into place and you turn to face the mirror… You freeze.

It’s simple, elegant, but not too much. The color flatters your skin perfectly, the fabric hugs you in all the right places without feeling overdone. It’s you - only elevated. Heart fluttering a little, you step out of the fitting room. Emily looks up first, her eyes widening. JJ’s jaw actually drops. Penelope clasps both hands over her chest. “Oh. My. God.“

You stand there, suddenly shy under their stares. “That’s the one,” Emily says, no hesitation. “You’re not trying on another thing.” JJ nods, getting up to circle around you. “It’s perfect. Clean lines, great fit, and it’s so you. Effortless but gorgeous.” Penelope fans herself dramatically. “And when Spencer sees you in that? Oh, he is going to lose it. In the best way.”

You laugh, your cheeks warm. “You really think so?” Emily grins. “I know so.” Then Penelope squints at you. “Only one thing left to settle… what are you wearing underneath?” You raise a brow. “Why does that matter?” Penelope raises both brows right back. “Oh honey, everything matters. The foundation is just as important as the gown.”

You bite your lip, trying not to smile. “Well… I may have already taken care of that. Bought something a while ago. Just in case.” There’s a chorus of pleased gasps. JJ laughs. “You so did not.” You shrug innocently. “Just covering all my bases.” Penelope throws an arm around your shoulders. “Our girl is ready. Dress, check. Lingerie, check. Wedding date who’s clearly half in love with her, check.”

You groan. “Okay, okay. Can we just pay before you all make me combust?” Emily tosses her arm around your other shoulder. “Only if we go get drinks after this.” JJ’s already grabbing her bag. “Absolutely. We are celebrating.” Penelope nods eagerly. “Tonight, we raise a glass to friendship, great fashion, and impending romantic developments.”

You laugh, letting them steer you out of the boutique, your dress carefully bagged and in hand and your heart a little lighter than it was before. Because now, everything’s ready. And you’re more than a little excited to see what happens next.

-

It’s already late afternoon when you finally unlock your front door and rush inside, kicking it shut behind you with your heel. You’ve spent the entire day helping put the finishing touches on the ceremony setup - wrangling florists, calming down her stressed-out mother, and making sure the playlist didn’t mysteriously vanish from the DJ’s laptop.

Now you’re home… and you have barely an hour to transform yourself. You throw off your coat, toss your shoes into the corner, and immediately head for the bathroom. The makeup bag’s already open on the counter - foundation, mascara, liner - you work fast, balancing on the edge between panic and precision. Your dress hangs in the doorway like it’s waiting patiently for its moment.

You curl your hair in record time, smooth a bit of color onto your lips, and step into the dress with practiced care. A deep breath. Then another. You glance at yourself in the mirror. Not bad. Actually… pretty damn good. You’re just slipping into your heels when the doorbell rings. Your heart skips just slightly. You walk to the door and open it.

Spencer’s standing there in a perfectly tailored suit - crisp white shirt, dark tie, jacket buttoned just right. His hair’s styled, slightly messy in that effortless way that probably isn’t effortless at all. But as soon as his eyes land on you, the cool, collected expression he arrived with melts away instantly.

He blinks, and his gaze sweeps down your figure, slowly, like his brain is still catching up with his eyes. “Wow,” he breathes. “I mean… wow.” You feel your cheeks heat as he stares, momentarily stunned. “Hi,” you say softly. Spencer exhales a quiet, amazed laugh and finally meets your eyes again. “You look… incredible. Like, stop-time kind of incredible.”

You smile shyly, smoothing your hand down the side of your dress. “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself, you know.” He laughs, his ears turning slightly pink. “I mean, you always look great, not just today. I mean…” He clears his throat. “You’re always beautiful. But tonight, you’re… wow. Really beautiful.” You bite your bottom lip to hide a smile. “Thanks, Spencer.”

He nods quickly, still looking at you like he can’t quite believe you’re real. “Are you ready? Or… is there anything you still need? Something I can help with?” You shake your head. “I’m good. My best friend and I went over everything earlier, so there’s nothing left to do now except show up.”

He offers you his arm, his smile a little crooked. “Then I guess it’s time to go turn some heads.” You link your arm with his, still smiling, and lock the door behind you. As you walk toward the car together, his hand brushes gently against yours, and for a brief second, it almost feels like he might take it. But for now… you’re both just quietly enjoying the way things are falling into place.

-

The sun filters softly through the trees as you sit among the gathered guests, the gentle murmur of whispered excitement floating in the air. Your best friend stands at the altar, radiant and glowing, her hands trembling just a little as the officiant begins to speak. You watch her with a full heart, a smile that won’t quite fade playing on your lips.

As the vows unfold, you feel your eyes sting with tears - not sadness, but pure joy. The words spoken about love, partnership, and commitment echo in the quiet space around you, wrapping everyone in a warm embrace.

From the corner of your eye, you notice Spencer shifting slightly beside you. His gaze flickers toward you with quiet concern. “Are you okay?” he asks softly, voice barely above a whisper. You blink back the tears and turn to him, your smile honest and bright.

“I’m more than okay. I’m happy - so happy. She’s found the right person, Spencer. The right man for her. And knowing she’s in good hands… it just fills me with this kind of peace.” Spencer nods slowly, his expression softening. “That’s… really beautiful.”

The ceremony continues, and you feel the atmosphere tighten with emotion. Around you, guests wipe away tears; some hold hands; others steal glances filled with hope. You reach out instinctively and squeeze Spencer’s hand. There’s something quietly powerful in this moment - the way love can be both a personal victory and a shared joy.

As the couple exchange rings, you whisper, “I hope one day I’ll find that too.”Spencer’s eyes meet yours, full of warmth and something deeper. “Maybe it’s closer than you think.” You glance away, heart pounding, just as the officiant pronounces them husband and wife. Applause ripples through the crowd, and you stand, clapping with everyone else, your smile genuine and wide.

-

Your best friend and her fiancé - now husband - take the dance floor for their first dance as a married couple. All eyes are on them as they glide gracefully to the music, the room glowing with warmth and happiness. Guests smile, some dabbing at tears, caught up in the beautiful moment. The energy hums with love and joy. As the dance ends, the crowd erupts into applause and cheers, officially marking the start of the celebration. You turn to Spencer, excitement sparkling in your eyes.

“They just nailed that,” you say softly. “Now the real celebration starts. I’m so curious to see how they handle the rest of the day.” Spencer smiles warmly at you. “I’m really glad to be here with you.” You nudge him gently. “And you know what? Our moment’s coming soon, too. We finally get to dance and show off everything we’ve learned.”

His eyes light up. “I’m really looking forward to it.” He grins playfully. “We just have to make sure we nail the spins… don’t want to send anyone flying across the dance floor.” You laugh, feeling a lightness in your chest. “Definitely not. No accidents tonight.”

The DJ announces the floor is open for guests, and Spencer offers you his hand. Taking a deep breath, you step onto the polished floor with him. Once in his arms, a calm warmth spreads through you. He leads effortlessly, your steps syncing perfectly with the music.

You find yourselves locking eyes often, the world around fading away. His fingers brush lightly along your back, gentle and reassuring. Sometimes, his hand glides over yours, a tender touch that sends a flutter through your chest. You stand close, almost as if your bodies remember a rhythm of their own, hinting at something deeper between you.

You laugh softly each time he spins you gently or pulls you in for a twirl, your smiles mirroring the joy swelling inside. Catching his gaze again, you see the same happiness shining back. In his arms, you feel safe, cherished, and alive. After a while, your feet begin to protest, and you lean in to whisper, “I think I need a break. Maybe something to drink?” He nods with a smile. “Sounds perfect.”

Together, you leave the dance floor and find a quiet table. Sitting down, you soak in the festive atmosphere, your hearts still beating fast from the dance. You look at him, gratitude in your voice. “Thank you, Spencer. For coming with me, for doing that dance class. I’m really, really grateful.”

He squeezes your hand gently. “I’m glad I did. It’s been… special. I’m happy to be here with you.” You smile, warmth spreading through you, knowing this night will stay with you forever.

-

The party inside is buzzing - warm lights casting a golden glow, laughter mixing with the soft hum of music. The room feels cozy but alive, packed with friends and family celebrating the day. You and Spencer have just finished dancing again, spinning and stepping in rhythm, your laughter blending with the joyous noise around you.

Your chest still flutters from the closeness, the way his hand rests lightly on your back, and how his fingers brushed gently over yours while you danced. Every so often, your eyes meet, holding a silent conversation full of something unspoken but electric. The warmth between you isn’t just from the room - it’s something more.

Spencer leans in slightly, his breath warm near your ear. “This is crazy loud in here,” he says with a soft smile. “Want to step outside for a bit? Get some fresh air?” You nod, grateful for the chance to breathe and maybe catch your breath from all the excitement. Together, you weave through the crowd, feeling the buzz of the party fade behind you as you step onto the terrace.

Outside, the cool night air wraps around you like a soothing blanket. You shiver slightly, feeling the chill nip at your skin. Spencer notices immediately. “You’re cold,” he says softly, slipping off his blazer and draping it over your shoulders. His hands linger a moment, making sure the fabric settles comfortably.

You lean against him, the warmth of his body a comforting contrast to the cool air. “Thank you,” you whisper, voice soft, feeling suddenly very safe and warm. The moment feels intimate, just the two of you away from the crowd. After a brief silence, Spencer looks down at you, eyes full of something unspoken.

“I’ve wanted to tell you something for a while,” he says softly, his voice a little hesitant but sincere. You meet his gaze, feeling your heart flutter. “Funny, I’ve…I‘ve wanted to tell you something too,” you admit and before he can continue, the words are spilling out of you. “I guess… I’ve had feelings for you long before this dance class even started. I just didn’t know how to say it, or maybe I was afraid to admit it - even to myself.”

You take a deep breath, your eyes locked on his. “But spending all this time together, learning, laughing, even stumbling over each other’s feet - it made everything so much clearer. I realized I don’t just want to be your dance partner. I want to be… more. I want to spend more time with you, to share moments like this, to be close to you, not just on the dance floor but in everything.”

Spencer’s smile deepens, and he gently squeezes your hand. “I feel the same way. You’ve been on my mind since the moment we started this whole thing. I guess I was just waiting for the right moment… or the courage to say it.”

The room is silent, except for Garcia's occasional typing. Everyone stares at the screen, where a shaky video is being broadcasted live from a basement. In the center of the video is Spencer. Bound, pale, exhausted. Tobias Hankel moves like a predator in the background. He makes sudden, aggressive movements while murmuring religious verses.

You keep standing in front of the screen, your fingers tightly intertwined. The lump in your throat grows larger with every passing second, while the shock in your chest slowly turns to pain. When Tobias suddenly stracks, a nasty blow right in the middle of Spencer's face, you flinch. Your lips tremble. And then the tears start to stream down your face.

You blink hard, forcing yourself not to take your eyes off the screen. You can’t break down now. Not while he is there. You see the shadows in Reid's gaze, the ones he so carefully hides from the others - the insecurities, the fears he masked with scientific logic and intelligence. And now, in this moment, all those fears are reflected in his face and it breaks your heart.

Suddenly, Garcia‘s face lights up. "I found him! The IP comes from an old farm. We're sending the team out immediately!" The tension in the room eased a little, a collective sigh of relief. Your fingers dig into the back of the chair in front of you. Hope - like a light in the darkness - stirs in your chest.

You look up at the screen again. Spencer raises his head weakly, his lips are moving and you wonder what he is saying. But you know one thing for sure: You are going to find him and get him out of there. And no matter what happens after that - you’ll stay by his side.

-

The interior of the ambulance is brightly lit, the sound of the siren dimly audible from outside. Paramedics work dimly on Spencer, checking his vitals and tending his wounds. But your gaze is fixed on him - on Spencer, lying on the stretcher with a blood stained shirt and tired eyes.

You sit down next to him, your hand tightly grips his as if it‘s the only thing anchoring you. Your tears flow uncontrollably. The fear and tension of the last few hours are now overwhelming you but you are happy that he is still alive. "Spence..." you whisper, your voice almost breaking, "I... I was so scared for you." His gaze turns to you, his lips move slowly. "Hey... I'm still here..." he says and smiles, despite his exhaustion. "You don't have to cry anymore."

"I'm crying because you're here. Because you made it. And because I don't know what I would have done if... if—" He raises the hand that isn’t connected to tubes and brushes your cheek with his fingertips. "I'm okay... honestly. It's over." You shake your head slightly, a sob rising within you. "I can't lose you, Spencer. I'll stay with you. I'll go with you, I... I won't leave you alone for a second."

He looks at you for a long time. A silent understanding that he wants you by his side. That knowing you are there helps him. "Thank you," he murmurs. You lean forward, briefly pressing your forehead against his shoulder. You can’t stop crying but this time the are tears filled with hope. And love. And the deep knowledge that you are now exactly where you are meant to be - with him.

-

Paramedics escort Spencer on a stretcher into the examination room and you follow close behind, your hand still firmly in his. The doctors and nurses move quickly, giving instructions and performing initial examinations. You aren’t allowed to come inside, so you keep waiting just a few meters away in the small waiting area. Your heart races as you look at every door where Spencer might be. Your hands tremble, you’re exhausted.

After a while, the door opens and a doctor steps out. Shortly afterward, Spencer comes out of the exam room. Your eyes immediately seek his, and when he sees you, a small, tired smile plays on his lips. You run to him, hugging him gently, as if you never want to let go.

"I'm here, and I'm staying with you," you whisper. He places his hand on your cheek, his voice calm and warm. ”Thank you for being with me. This means more to me than you know." And as you stand there, finally drying your tears, you know that you would help him get through this together.

The light in the hospital corridor seems almost too bright as the doctor approaches you, his expression serious. "Dr. Reid will need to stay here for at least one night for observation," the doctor begins. "His condition requires us to monitor him closely to ensure no complications arise. This is purely a precautionary measure, but it's important."

Spencer raises his head and frowns. "I appreciate it, but I'm feeling okay so far. I'd really rather go home." His voice sounds determined, but you can tell that the exhaustion is taking its toll on him.

You look at him briefly, see the tiredness in his eyes, the slight trembling in his hands and sense that he's not quite back to full strength yet. Then you turn back to the doctor. "I think it's really better if he stays here. And... um... would it perhaps be possible for me to spend the night with him?" A slight, understanding expression flits across the doctor's face.

He nods. "Of course. As long as it's good for the patient and he feels comfortable, you're welcome to stay with him." You feel a weight lifted from your heart, but at the same time, you suddenly feel warm and your cheeks turn pink. You turn to Spencer, feeling your heart almost jump out of your chest. "I... I don't have to do this. But if it's okay with you, I'd really like to stay with you... I've been so worried about you, and I just want to make sure you're okay."

Spencer looks at you, his gaze softens and his cheeks also show a slight blush. "That's... okay for me. Thanks for staying with me." You didn’t realise that the rest of the team entered the room. They stand in the doorway, watching the small, intimate scene and can't help but grin.

Morgan winks at you with a mischievous grin. “Well, someone was pretty daring." JJ laughs softly. Rossi, who usually seems very serious, chuckles and says, "You don't see this much care all at once every day. This is going to be a long night for you." You feel your face getting even hotter, but this time you can't help but laugh quietly.

Spencer looks a little embarrassed, but also happy, as he says, "Well, at least I know I'm not alone here." Hotch, who's just entered the room, clears his throat slightly before he says, "It's good to know at least one of you is watching. We'll be nearby. If you need anything don’t hesitate to call." The mood in the room noticeably lightens, the tension falls a little from your shoulders.

You squeeze Spencer's hand, lean briefly against his shoulder, and feel a little more at home despite all the uncertainty.

-

The room is silent, only the faint beeping of the devices and the occasional breathing can be heard. You sir in the chair next to Spencer, who is lying in bed. For a while, you both remain silent. The closeness is comforting and after a while, you break the silence with a small smile.

"By the way... you missed our last movie night." Spencer raises an eyebrow and grins slightly. "That's right. Tobias ruined it." You smile weakly. "Well, as soon as you're out of here, we'll definitely repeat it. No kidnappings and extra popcorn."

He nods and his smile brightens a little. "That sounds good. I'm looking forward to it." You look at him, your voice softening. "Do you actually want to... talk about what happened?" Spencer shakes his head slightly, his eyes tired but honest. "Not yet. It's all still so close. I need some more time."

You nod understandingly. "It's okay. But eventually... you have to process this. I'll be here for you when you're ready." You are silent for a few moments, then you break the tension. Your voice trembles slightly as you admit how overwhelmed you were: "I was so scared for you... I was so relieved when you were finally here."

Spencer places his hand on yours and squeezes it gently. "I'm glad you're here. That you didn't leave." After his last sentence, there is silence in the room. You look at Spencer and suddenly, you realize how close you'd been to losing him. How deep the fear and worry for him runs inside you - and that you hadn't told him any of this for far too long.

Your heart is pounding, and your voice is quiet at first, almost hesitant, as you begin to speak. "Spencer... I... I think I've had this inside me for so long... but I didn't say it out loud because I was afraid... afraid that it might destroy our friendship... or that you wouldn't see me that way..."

You swallow hard, your hands shaking slightly. "I... I love you. Not just as a friend. Not just like that. I mean... you're always on my mind, no matter what I do. And it's not just because you're so smart or funny - although this are all true, too." You laugh nervously, your words coming out faster. "It's just... you are you. And I've asked myself so many times why I never said that, why I was so scared, because what if I lose you, and... I can't do this anymore... I can't stay silent anymore."

Your breathing quickened, your voice almost cracked. "And now that I almost lost you, I know that I don't just miss you when you're not here, but... that I love you. Really love you." You break off, look at the floor, then back at him, your cheeks warm and red. You are nervous, uncertain, and yet more open than ever before.

Spencer looks at you for a long time, his eyes shining. Then he smiles gently - a warm, reassuring smile. He places a hand gently on your cheek, interrupting you lovingly, and says, "I love you too." You look at him, surprised and overwhelmed by his words. Slowly, you pull him closer until your lips touch - a soft, tender kiss. Full of relief, warmth, and all the feelings you carried unspoken for so long.

“Pretty Boy, how was Connecticut?” Morgan asks as he drops his go bag on the floor. “Ultimately uneventful,” Spencer says before he turns around to Rossi. “Sir, there’s somebody waiting to speak to you in your office,” he continues and points to Rossis office. Kevin is there, sitting on a chair, standing up when he sees that the team finally arrived.

You turn around to JJ, both of you grinning. Penelope told you earlier that day what happened between her and Kevin - and that Rossi made an unexpected visit at her apartment when they were in the shower together. He wanted to get more information about the crime that haunted him for more than 20 years and it couldn’t wait anymore.

You all watch the situation unfold. “Agent Rossi, we need to talk. About Penelope. Man to man,” Kevin says nervously. Emily and Morgan exchange a confused look, they have no idea what’s going yet. “Man to man,” Rossi says with a smile before he goes up to talk to Kevin.

“What about Penelope?” Morgan asks curious. “I don’t know,” Spencer says, just as confused as Morgan. You and JJ exchange a look before both of you start to sing “Garcia and Kevin, sitting in a tree…” you laugh when you see their shocked expressions. “Get out of here, you’re serious?” Morgan asks.

“Just when I thought nothing scandalous was ever going to happen around here,” Emily says with a excited grin on her face. Spencer still looks confused, he seems to miss something here. “What? What does that mean?” he asks. “Didn’t you hear them sing?” Emily asks in disbelief. “The song meant something? No, no I missed it,” he says.

You can see that he’s trying really hard to figure out what exactly he’s missing here. “Yeah it…” Emily starts but then she hesitates and stops. “You know what, never mind,” she says and starts to pack up her things. Morgan playfully hits Spencer’s head. “Come on boy, you’re a genius. That’s easy to figure out,” he says and grabs his bag, getting ready to leave too.

Meanwhile you, JJ and Emily can’t stop laughing when you see how confused Spencer is, still trying to understand what’s going on. “We’re leaving now, see y’all tomorrow,” you say and wave them goodbye.

-

The sun has long dipped below the horizon when you, JJ, and Emily step out of the building. The air is comfortably cool, the kind that makes the end of a workday feel almost peaceful. For once, the world feels still. You are happy that you solved the old case today, especially because you know how much it means to Rossi.

“I mean, I love Spencer,” JJ interrupts your thoughts. She zips up her jacket, “but how can someone be that smart and still completely miss the most obvious social cues?” Emily laughs, rolling her eyes. “Seriously. The guy can solve complex ciphers in his sleep but can’t figure out a basic playground rhyme?” You laugh with them, trying to keep your grin in check - unsuccessfully, of course.

“Maybe he was distracted,” you say, trying to sound casual. JJ gives you a knowing look. “Distracted, huh? Would the distraction happen to have gorgeous hair and a laugh that makes him smile every single time?” she teases. “Ohhh, yes,” Emily chimes in. “The FBI should start offering classes: How To Talk To Your Crush When You're A Literal Genius But Still Adorably Clueless.”

You pull your coat tighter around yourself, trying to hide behind your coffee cup. “You two are ridiculous,” you murmur, your cheeks already red. JJ arches an eyebrow. “You are so in love with him,“ she says and grins. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,“ you say, but you know she’s right.

“Please,” she scoffs. “You know all his favorite authors. You binged Doctor Who last week and complained the entire time - but you still watched it. And when he walks into a room, you look like someone’s playing a secret love song in your head.” You open your mouth to argue, but stop. You know they’re not wrong.

Emily smiles, softer this time. “It’s cute. Honestly? I think he needs someone exactly like you.” You’re about to answer - maybe even admit it, just a little - when you suddenly freeze. “Crap. My keys,” you groan, patting your coat pockets. “I left them on my desk.” JJ smirks. “Sure. Is that all you left in there?” You shoot her a look and start heading back inside while Emily cackles behind you.

-

Most of the lights are off. The usual buzz of agents is gone, replaced by silence and the low hum of the lamps. That’s when you see him. Spencer sits alone, hunched slightly over his desk. One hand rests against his cheek, the other writes something down in the corner of his notebook. He’s completely lost in his own world.

He notices you when you get closer. “Oh, I thought you left,“ he says surprised. “I did, but I forgot my keys,“ you say and smile. “Ah,” he says, returning the smile - soft and shy - it makes your stomach flip and your heart beat faster. “I’m also still... trying to figure out that song,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “The ‘sitting in a tree’ thing.”

You sit lightly on the edge of your desk, playing with the keys in your hand. “You mean the one we sang about Garcia and Kevin?” He nods. “I know it’s a rhyme, but I don’t really get why you’d sing that when two people...” he starts “...have a thing?” you finish for him, grinning. His ears turn a little pink. “Yeah. That.”

You lean in just a bit, voice soft. “It’s kind of a playground way of saying two people are into each other. Like... they like each other. Even kissing.” He processes that for a beat, his eyes thoughtful behind his lashes. “So the song was a sign that Garcia and Kevin... are now together?” he asks. “Mmhmm,” you hum. “It’s a silly song. But also kind of cute.”

He nods again, more slowly this time. “I never learned how to... recognize that stuff.” There’s something so honest in the way he says it. Vulnerable, like a door he rarely opens is cracked just enough for you to peek inside. You smile gently. “You recognize a hundred patterns a day that no one else does. Maybe it’s just... a different kind of pattern.”

He looks up to you. His gaze lingers longer than usual. “Do you think...” he starts, then hesitates for a second. “Do you think I’d be able to recognize it if... if it involved me?” Your breath catches for a second. You want to say a thousand things. You want to tell him he already does. That he’s halfway there. That it’s been there, growing quietly between you both for months.

“I think if it involved you... I’d probably have to be the one to sing the song,“ you say boldly. His eyes widen just slightly, and then his smile returns. “Would you?” he asks, barely above a whisper. You nod and grin. “I might even start now. Spencer and I sitting in a tree…” He chuckles and for a second you both just sit there - quiet, smiling, the air between you softer than ever.

Then, without thinking too much, he shifts a little closer. “You know... I’ve never really done this. The flirting thing. Or the... song-worthy kind of thing.” You tilt your head, heart thudding just slightly louder. “Then maybe this is the part where we figure it out together.” His hand brushes lightly against yours on the desk. Not an accident. And this time, he doesn’t pull away.

Spencer’s hand lingers against yours, his fingers brushing gently over your skin. It’s tentative, like he’s still not sure if this is real - if he’s allowed to feel what he’s feeling. But then, slowly, he intertwines his fingers with yours. You look down for half a second, a soft smile forming before your eyes find his again. He’s watching you so carefully, like he’s waiting for any sign to tell him he’s not making a mistake.

You give the smallest nod, barely noticeable, but enough. And then - he leans in. It’s slow, almost hesitant. Like he’s giving you time to change your mind. Your heart races, the space between you shrinking. You tilt your head just slightly, your lips parting as the moment settles in but right before your lips touch -

The office door swings open. You both snap apart like teenagers caught by their parents. Rossi and Kevin step out, mid-conversation, but they stop when they see you. You’re still sitting on the edge of your desk. Spencer’s still leaning forward, clearly way too close for a casual chat. There’s a beat of silence. Then Rossi looks at Kevin. Kevin looks at Rossi. And they both grin.

Your face goes hot in an instant. You jump to your feet and grab your keys off the desk. “Right, um, that’s what I came for. My keys. I got them. So... I’m going now.” Spencer, very clearly blushing, fumbles to close his notebook and shove it into his bag. “Y-yeah, me too. I should, uh... I should probably—go.” Kevin tries to hide his smirk, not very successfully.

Rossi just raises an eyebrow at you both, his voice casual but far too amused. “Long day, huh?” he asks. “Yup!” you squeak, already halfway to the hallway. “Very long. Okay. Goodnight!” You hear Spencer mumble something that vaguely resembles goodnight as he rushes to catch up. Behind you, as the elevator doors close, you swear you hear Rossi chuckle.

-

The scent of fresh coffee fills the air as Penelope strolls into the break room, her signature bright and colourful outfit standing out against the muted tones of FBI suits. She’s carrying a huge mug and grinning like she knows something no one else does - which, of course, she does.

JJ is already sitting at the table with Emily, sipping her coffee. You’re at the counter, adding a splash of cream to yours, when Penelope speaks. “Ladies,” she says, in a tone far too mischievous for 8 a.m. “You will not believe what Kevin told me last night.” Emily perks up instantly. “If it’s drama, please continue.” JJ leans forward. “Oh no. Is this about the Penelope-Kevin-Rossi surprise saga?”

Penelope waves a hand. “No, no - that’s old news. This is better. Apparently... when Kevin and Rossi walked out of his office last night -” she pauses for dramatic effect, “- they saw a certain someone and a certain Dr. Reid looking very, very cozy at her desk.” Your hand freezes mid-pour. JJ whips her head toward you. “You were still there?”

You shrug, trying to play it cool. “Told you, I forgot my keys.” Emily raises a brow. “And somehow that led to almost kissing Spencer in the bullpen?” Penelope gasps, delighted. “Almost?! Oh, honey, he was definitely leaning in,“ she says. JJ’s mouth drops open in delighted shock. “So wait... you two were just - what? Holding hands and gazing longingly into each other’s eyes in the dark like it’s some kind of FBI rom-com?”

You open your mouth, close it again, then groan and hide your face behind your coffee cup. “It wasn’t like that.” Emily chuckles. “It bet it was exactly like that. Penelope grins. “Rossi and Kevin were smiling the entire time Kevin told me. Kevin literally said, ‘They jumped apart like teenagers getting caught on a porch swing.’”JJ bursts into laughter. “Oh my god.”

“Okay, okay,” you say, cheeks burning. “Can we not make this a thing please?” you ask. “Too late,” Emily says, sipping her coffee with a smirk. “I give it a week before the BAU has a new couple,“ she says. “I give it three days,” Penelope counters. JJ nods. “I give it until lunch.” You groan again but can’t help laughing. There’s genuine excitement behind their teasing. And despite the embarrassment, something in your chest flutters at the thought.

-

The rest of the morning you try to act like everything is normal. Like nothing happened last night. Like your entire team isn’t betting on your love life. Spencer is already at his desk. He looks up the moment you walk in. You expect awkwardness - nervous glances, maybe a quick hello and then heads buried in paperwork. But instead, he smiles.

You return it before you can stop yourself. You walk past his desk on the way to yours, and for a moment you both hesitate, hovering near each other like there’s something unsaid still hanging in the air. “Hey,” he says, standing up slightly. “Hi,” you reply. You’re proud that your voice doesn’t shake. There’s a pause. You both glance around.

The bullpen is unusually quiet. No JJ, no Emily, no Penelope hovering. It’s just the two of you. Again. “I, um...” Spencer rubs the back of his neck. “About last night. I didn’t mean to - make things weird.” You smile softly. “You didn’t. I mean... you kind of did. But in a nice way.” He lets out a small breath - half a laugh, half relief. “That’s... good. Because I keep thinking about it.” You blink. “Yeah?” He nods. “Yeah. I didn’t get to finish what I was about to do.” Your heart skips a beat.

“Maybe we just ran out of time,” you say quietly. He takes a small step forward, close enough now that his voice drops to just above a whisper. “Maybe we could try again. Sometime.” You smile, soft and full of something that’s been waiting a long time to be said. “I’d like that.” You’re both standing there, suspended in a moment that could easily tip into something more when - of course -

“Hey, loverbirds!” Penelope’s voice rings out from across the room. You jump slightly. Spencer flinches. Penelope waves from the stairs, JJ and Emily right behind her, absolutely smirking. You and Spencer look at each other, cheeks equally red. “Maybe not right now,” he mumbles, quickly sitting back down. You laugh and head to your desk, still smiling.

-

The morning is exhausting and not because of paperwork or a new case. It’s the teasing. Endless teasing. From the moment you walked in, it felt like there’s a spotlight following you and Spencer around the office. Every look is noticed. Every word is overanalyzed. Every accidental eye contact turns into a team-wide event.

JJ, Morgan, Emily, Penelope… even Rossi is in on it. And Spencer? He’s barely holding it together. You can practically see the internal panic whenever someone mentions “last night” or “bullpen romance” or, worse, your name followed by his in the same sentence. And yet, no one lets up.

It starts again, of course, with Morgan. “You sure you’re hydrated, Pretty Boy?” he calls out across the room. “You look a little flushed this morning.” Spencer doesn’t even respond this time. He just groans and ducks his head, pretending to read something extremely fascinating in a case report.

You glare at Morgan over your coffee cup. “You’re relentless,“ you tell him. “Can’t help it,” he says with a grin. “You two are my new favorite soap opera.” JJ strolls past your desk with a smirk. “Do you want me to start bringing popcorn? Because I will.” You shake your head, already trying to retreat into your work, but Penelope appears beside you like she’s been summoned.

“Can we just skip to the part where one of you makes a move before the tension physically breaks my screen?” Across the room, Spencer lifts his head to give you a helpless glance. Emily eyes him thoughtfully. “You know what’s funny?” she says. “Kevin said - and I quote - ‘There was something kind of unwritten about the way they looked at each other.’ Like a moment out of a movie where the soundtrack kicks in.” Spencer closes his eyes. “Oh my god.”

You sink in your chair. “This is fine. Everything’s fine.” Rossi walks by at that exact moment and offers, far too casually, “Should we clear the conference room for your inevitable confession scene?” You and Spencer both say no at the same time. The team bursts out laughing. You know it‘s going to be a long, chaotic, ridiculous morning. But maybe... exciting, too.

-

It’s early afternoon when you finally get a second to breathe. You step out into the hallway, heading toward the evidence room to drop off a few files, and find Spencer already there, leaning against the wall, looking like he’s doing the exact same thing - escaping.

He looks up when he hears your footsteps, and for the first time all day, he smiles without hesitation. “Hi,” he says again. “Hey,” you reply, stopping beside him. “You hiding too?” He nods. “JJ tried to slide a Hershey’s Kiss onto my desk and whispered, ‘Symbolism.’”

You laugh quietly. “Penelope asked me if I wanted her to make a love playlist for us.” Spencer shifts, a little nervous. “So… we’re not imagining it, then. Everyone really does know what almost happened.” You exhale a breath. “Yeah. They really know.” A beat passes. Then you both laugh.

It breaks the tension but there’s still something lingering between you, something that’s been quietly building for months and only just began to surface last night. Spencer’s voice softens. “I meant what I said earlier. About wanting to try again.” You look up at him, heart skipping. “I remember.”

There’s a long pause. He looks at you like he’s memorizing you. Like he’s choosing this moment, finally. “I don’t want to keep almost kissing you in the bullpen,” he says quietly. “I want to actually kiss you. Not because the team’s making jokes or because it’s expected. Just... because I want to.” You step a little closer. “Then do it.”

His eyes flicker to your lips for the briefest second and then you’re leaning in, and he’s meeting you halfway, and everything slows down. It’s not rushed. Not dramatic. It’s soft. Careful. Exactly the way Spencer always is - with his thoughts, with his hands, with you.

And when it happens, it feels like something clicks into place. Like this was always supposed to happen. You pull back slightly, eyes still closed, a small smile tugging at your lips. He’s smiling too. “So... was that our first official something?” You nod. “Yep. And you survived it.”

He laughs, brushing his fingers against yours. “Barely.” From down the hallway, the faint sound of Penelope’s voice echoes: “I knew it!” You groan. Spencer sighs. But neither of you moves away.

-

You and Spencer return to the bullpen pretending - trying - to act normal. It doesn't work. Not because you’re doing anything obvious. You’re both quiet. Focused. Professional, even. But apparently, your faces tell a different story.

You barely sit down at your desk before Penelope appears, narrowing her eyes like she’s analyzing security footage. She tilts her head slowly, eyes flicking between you and Spencer like she’s putting together the final pieces of a puzzle. JJ walks in behind her and freezes mid-step.

Emily follows and immediately raises an eyebrow. “Okay. What happened?” You look up. “What?” Spencer doesn’t even lift his head. “Nothing happened.” JJ folds her arms, smirking. “You’re blushing,“ she says. “I’m not,” you lie. “Yes, you are,” Penelope singsongs. “And so is he.” Morgan, now very interested, leans over from his desk. “Did you guys...?” He stops. Eyes widen. “Oh my god, you did.”

Emily drops into a chair dramatically. “It happened! Didn’t I say Friday? I was so close!” JJ points at her. “Nope. I said lunch. It is literally 1:03.” Rossi enters just in time to see Morgan fist-pump in victory and Penelope doing some sort of quiet celebration dance in the background. “What did I miss?” he asks.

“They finally kissed,” Morgan says proudly. You groan and drop your head to your desk. Spencer looks like he wants to evaporate into the floor. “We didn’t tell them,” Spencer mumbles. “How did they even -” Penelope raises a finger like she’s giving a TED Talk. “Sweetie, you came back in here looking like a man who had just been kissed into another dimension. It’s not rocket science.”

Rossi chuckles and heads toward his office. “About time,” he mutters, more to himself than anyone else. Emily smirks. “So... when’s the next kiss? Or are we waiting for the sequel?” You sit up finally, cheeks still warm. “You are all insane.” JJ winks. “And so proud of you.” Morgan points at Spencer. “You too, man. Took you long enough.” Spencer just gives a small, shy smile. And even though he’s clearly embarrassed, he doesn’t deny anything this time.

He glances at you across the bullpen, a question in his eyes. You smile back. No words needed. Penelope glances at Rossi’s office and then back at Spencer. “Oh, and by the way, you do still owe Rossi that ‘man-to-man’ talk. Just saying.” Morgan grins. “Yeah, don’t keep him waiting, Pretty Boy. Kevin's story’s still floating around.”

Spencer groans quietly. “Great. Just what I needed.” The team laughs, clearly delighted to have both gossip and an excuse to tease him some more.

-

From this moment on, it’s like the whole team is on a mission: Get You and Spencer Alone. JJ nudges you both together whenever possible. “Hey, you two, why don’t you double-check those files in the conference room? Privacy guaranteed.”

Penelope suddenly ‘needs help’ carrying a stack of papers - right past where you and Spencer are standing. “Oops, so clumsy! Could you two hold these for me? Thanks!” Morgan “forgets” his phone in your shared workspace and asks Spencer to grab it for him, then lingers nearby “by accident.”

Emily even volunteers to send you on a ‘quick errand’ to the evidence room... but conveniently ‘forgets’ to mention Spencer is already there. Every time you and Spencer find yourselves alone - even for just a few minutes - there’s this quiet, electric energy that fills the space.

And every time the moment almost blooms into something more, someone - usually Penelope or Morgan - interrupts with a perfectly timed comment or a sudden loud laugh. At one point, Spencer leans over and whispers, “They’re relentless.” You grin. “At least they want us to be happy.”

You're ready. Ready to pull yourself together. Ready to regain your focus. Ready for him. For what he said. The lecture hall is almost empty, but you're already sitting there, waiting for him. In front of you on the table are your notebook and your textbook, marked to the brim.

You wanted to feel his hands on your body again. You want him to kiss your neck again, whisper naughty things in your ear and bend you over his table to take what's his. But more than all that, you want him to make you come and you knew it would only work if you functioned.

You've been frustrated ever since that day in his office. Everything he did felt so good, and you want more. Need more. And he let you down. And nothing, nothing feels as good as his hands, his tongue, his cock. Nothing will ever feel as good.

And now you're sitting here, hyper-focused as soon as he comes in. You check in. Constantly. Your analyses are perfect, you made sure they are. You even continue reading during your break, highlighting, taking notes, preparing questions. Your hand writes down everything, as if it were remotely controlled.

And Spencer? He sees right through you. He is at the front, talking about perpetrator motives in the context of family trauma. You want to jump up, join in the discussion, contribute something, prove to him that you're there. But every time you raise your hand his gaze passes over you. He ignores you, only talking to others.

You hate it, hate him for acting like this now. So you decide that on the next day, you’ll wear the red top that caught his eye the first time. To your disadvantage, it doesn’t work and it makes you even angrier, even more frustrated. You try everything to get his attention. Your notes are perfect. Your gaze searches for him again. And again. Nothing. No movement. No reaction.

On Friday, you're packing up your things slowly as the lecture ends. Spencer is still at the front, talking to a student. You stand up slowly and give him one last, steady look. He doesn't even lift his head. When you're outside, you take a deep breath. The air is cold. It cuts into your lungs. And then... it hits you.

You don't want this anymore. You don't want to play this game anymore. You don't want to fight for a look, for a smile. For something that may have only felt real for a moment. If he wants you, he should damn well make the first move.

-

The warm, stuffy air of the bar hits you. It's filled with the smell of alcohol, sweat and perfume. Glasses clink together, people are laughing, dancing and flirting with each other. The loud music makes your heart race and you can feel the slight nervousness in your stomach slowly transforming into a tingling, exciting sensation as you let the door close behind you.

You move with your best friend through the large crowd, the dance floor vibrates beneath your feet. You are wearing your favorite dress tonight. High-necked in the front, but so tight that it hugs every curve. It's soft, almost silky, and falls gently over your hips, accentuating your waist and enveloping your legs, which appear a little longer.

Your skin still glistens slightly from the rain outside, which has left small, cool drops on your shoulders. You immediately feel a lot of eyes on you, but you don't care. Today this is what you want, what you hoped for when you took the dress out of the closet and got ready for the night. Your best friend needs distraction after her breakup, and you need distraction from Spencer. That's why you've decided to go out.

You order drinks and sit down at the bar. "To us," she says as you clink glasses together and take a sip. You stay a little while but the music is good and practically draws you away from the bar and onto the dance floor. You surrender to the music, dancing freely, losing yourself in the rhythm. For a moment, there is only you, the music, the crowd.

And then he appears.

You don't immediately feel it, the presence that suddenly manifests in your field of vision. But there he is. Spencer. In a darker corner, sitting at a table with a couple of other people. You're so caught up in the moment that it takes a few seconds for your brain to register reality. Why is he here? Why now?

For a moment, you're unsure how to act. You want to turn around and leave. But then another feeling pushes itself to the forefront - defiance. Anger. And above all, the desire to show him that you're no longer the person he can simply ignore. You take a deep breath, put on a confident smile, and turn back to the dance floor.

The music is loud in your ears, the crowd around you suddenly feels like a stage and you're the star now. His gaze meets yours - sharp, intense, full of unspoken words. You're in your element, dancing with an open smile, your dress lifting slightly with every movement, your body moving effortlessly as if you were one with the music.

And then there's this guy. He approaches you at the perfect time, offers you his hand, and asks if you want to dance with him. You take it immediately, without any hesitation. Of course you do it on purpose. Because you know Spencer sees it. Because you want him to feel what you felt back then, when he ignored you after that night in his office, as if everything between you was forgotten or never happened.

Spencer sits with his team in a more quiet, darker corner. The drink in front of him is untouched, the foam on the rim of the glass long gone. His gaze is fixed on you, while his body remains still. "Spence? What's wrong?" JJ leans toward him, her voice slightly confused and questioning. She senses the change in his face.

"Only students," Spencer murmurs curtly, avoiding looking directly at you. "From my class." It's an excuse, a weak lie he barely believes himself. Rossi frowns and exchanges a glance with Morgan, who silently observes the situation. Emily grimaces and grins, her voice dry. "You mean the student you're currently undressing with your eyes? Sure, just academic interest."

Spencer remains silent, his gaze fixed on you, as if he can hold you there. You continue dancing, the music filling your senses, your movements becoming bolder. The guy puts his hand on your back, almost demandingly. You don't resist. On the contrary, you turn toward him and move even closer.

His fingers glide over your skin like a promise, along your waist, so lightly that you feel every moment. You allow it, because you want Spencer to see how close he is to you and how easily you slip away from him. The man leans forward and whispers something in your ear. You chuckle softly, a sound that cuts through the loud music.

It's a moment of intimacy and provocation at the same time. Just as you raise your head, your eyes meet Spencer's again. Challenging him. He freezes. His jaw tenses, his shoulders harden, and his eyes seem darker now, burning with raw emotion. Pain, anger, and desire fight a silent war in his gaze, open and exposed.

He slowly raises his glass, takes a long sip. Then another. The alcohol is only a small consolation against the images that greet him on the dance floor. You step even closer to the man. Your lips almost touch his ear as you whisper something to him. All that matters is that Spencer thinks you're saying something confidential, something forbiddenly intimate.

You want him to regret how he's treated you. Every ignored glance, every single day you were invisible to him. Then you slowly pull away from the man. In one fluid motion, you brush a strand of hair from your face, giving him a small, confident smile. Then you make your way through the crowd, step by step, slowly yet purposefully, toward the restrooms.

You've barely entered the room when you hear the door fly open. He pushed it open with such a force that it slams against the wall. You turn around – and there he is. Spencer. His face is serious, his eyes sparkling with a mix of anger and jealousy. Before you can react, he closes the door behind you.

You're in one of the small booths, cramped, shielded from the noisy bar. The air is suddenly thick, full of unspoken tension. "What the hell are you doing with that guy out there?" he asks and you can tell that he’s really angry.

You raise an eyebrow, a cheeky smile playing on your lips. "Try to go home with someone who really makes me come," you reply. His face twists. You can feel his hands bracing themselves against the sides of the booth, wanting to get closer - and yet he pauses, almost challengingly.

"Do you really think he can take you like I do?" His voice is raspy. "Do you think he knows what you need?" he murmurs, barely more than a breath. You roll your eyes and lean back as far as possible. "Unlike you, yes." Deep down, you know this game has only just begun. Spencer laughs. "I know exactly how to give you orgasm after orgasm. I just chose not to." You feel the tension between you growing, drawing you both in.

Despite everything, despite the game, despite the rage lurking beneath the surface. His hands find your waist, pulling you closer. You feel his heartbeat - fast and strong - right beneath your hand. Spencer leans forward, his lips brushing your neck, leaving a trail of warmth that makes you shiver. A soft sigh escapes you, and a sparkle flickers in his eyes that you can only interpret as pure temptation. "Then show me," you say.

“Oh believe me, sweetheart - I will.” He slams you against the wall, his lips pressing against yours, shutting you up. You clutch the collar of his shirt as he hoists you up in his arms and dugs his fingers into your ass. Your legs wrap around his waist in no time. He presses against you, igniting lust in your lower belly when he rolls his hips, his hard cock pressing against you. He bites your lower lip harder and growls before he gently sucks the pain away.

His hands find the zipper behind your back and he begins to open it, his eyes fixed on yours. You whimper at how commanding he looks when he does that. The dress you’re wearing is strapless and the minute you arch your back it slides down and pools at your feet. You are completely naked, except for your soaked panties and your heels. He lowers himself to your breasts and starts to kiss them before he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking eagerly.

“You’re so gorgeous. And all mine. I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, do you understand?” he asks and you nod. He bites down on your nipple and you whimper. “I already told you the last time. Words, sweetheart,” he says and shakes his head in disappointment. “On - only you,” you manage to breath out and he gives you a satisfied look before he continues his actions.

You try to rub yourself against him, to relief some of the build up pleasure but he keeps moving away, making sure to tease you and not give you what you want again. He gives you another kiss before he kneels down in front of you, kissing down your belly until he’s between your thighs, where you need him the most.

He uses his teeth to lower your panties down your legs and looks up to you for a second. It's the hottest thing you've ever seen and you feel like you could come just from the sight. Your legs are shaking in excitement. He sees it and can't help but grin. "Do you like what you see, sweetheart? Do you think that pathetic man out there would do that? Kneel in front of you here? Taking your panties off like that?” he asks.

You shake your head. “No, he - he wouldn’t,” you say and he hums in approval. “That’s right. He wouldn’t,” he says before he buries his nose between your thighs and licks up a strip between your folds. You feel like you’re going to burst out of your skin. "This pussy is mine. And now, I want you to spread your legs for me,” he says and you obey. He kisses your clit, flicking his tongue over it again and again. It feels even better than the last time he did it.

“Spread them wider for me, sweetheart,” he says before he throws one of your legs over his shoulder. He slips his hand between your thighs now too, teasing you with his fingers while he continues to eat you out. You are embarrassingly wet. He begins to thrust his fingers in and out of you then, slowly at first. Moans escapes your lips every time he his fingers curl and hit your g-spot.

His other hand travels up to your breasts again, twisting one nipple roughly. Every time you try to touch him, to run a hand through his hair, he grabs them and holds them in a tight grip, taking control over you completely. He applies more pressure on your clit and you can feel the waves of pleasure rushing over you. “I- I’m close,” you whisper. “I know. But you only get to come when you beg me,” Spencer says.

“I hate you,” you say through gritted teeth and give him an angry look again. “Don't look like that, sweetheart. This time it's completely up to you whether you come or not,” he says, curling his fingers deep inside of you again. A shiver runs down your spine and you know that you don’t have a choice. “Please, Spencer, I - I want to come.”

He increases his pace and you swear you can see stars. “I didn’t quite hear that, you have to speak louder, sweetheart,” he teases again and if you weren't so incredibly turned on, you would have made a sharp comment about that now. But you want to - need to - come and decide it’s easier to just give in. “Please, Spencer. I want to come. Please, make me come,” you say again, louder this time. “Good girl,” he says and increases his pace again, sucking at your clit.

The combination of his tongue and his fingers, his grip on your thighs, his nose against your clit, his voice - everything feels so good and the next second you explode from within, moaning his name so loud that you’re afraid somebody is going to hear you. Your legs are shaking from the intense orgasm and you have to hold onto his shoulders in order to stop your body from sliding down.

Spencer stands up and pushes you against a bathroom sink - still fully clothed - and unzips his dress pants. “Already fucked out and I only made you come once. Let’s see how much more you can take,” he says and the words sound like heaven in your ears. Finally he’s giving you what you want. You pull him closer to you by his tie, clawing at his suit as an excuse to touch him and opening your legs as far as you can with him pinning you against the sink.

Your back hurts a little bit, but you couldn’t care less. He strokes his cock first before running it through your folds, teasing you yet again. “Spencer, please,” you whimper and he leans down to kiss you. “Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, acting oblivious. “Just fuck me already,” you say, pressing against him. “Eager, aren’t we?” he chuckles and hits your clit with his tip. You moan and pull him closer against you. He takes the opportunity and thrusts into you.

Your eyes roll back in pleasure. He is so hard, his cock so thick and hot, you feel like you’re going to die from the intense pleasure. The more you moan, the more intense his movements became. Rougher, deeper, faster, like he was punishing you. You can feel him throb inside you, hitting your g-spot again and again and again, his hand sneaking toward your ass.

A few more thrusts, and you can feel the second orgasm already climbing up from your toes to the rest of your body. You moan louder and he thrusts deeper inside of you. "Close" you whimper and he picks up his speed. “Me too,” he pants and you clench around him. It sends you over the edge, your orgasms hitting both of you hard. You can feel his warm, thick cum in spurts inside of you, and your eyes close due to the overwhelming feeling.

He continues to fuck you through it and you swear you never felt pleasure like this before. Your whole body is shivering and you have to hold onto him yet again. “So good,” you breath out and he smiles back, looking so heartbreakingly beautiful that for a moment, it occurs to you that you might never recover from this man. Not that you ever want to.

You stay in the position for a while, both of you recovering from the intense orgasms you just had. Your skin burns, your pulse pounds in your ears. You lean against the wall, breathing heavily. Then he suddenly leans forward, picking up your dress and your panties. He helps you putting your panties back on before he zips the dress up slowly, careful not to hurt you.

He adjusts the dress on your body, his fingers casually brushing your thighs, gliding over the line of your waist. But there's tension in his posture. An unspoken residue in the air. "Do you think he could have done that?" he asks again. Your body is still trembling slightly, your legs barely stable. You exhale, short, brittle, and take just enough strength for an honest, quiet word. "No..."

He stays behind you for a moment. You feel his gaze on your neck, his breath on your skin. Then he pushes a strand of hair back from your face and kisses you. "Good." Then he looks at you with a gaze that undresses you again even though you've just put your clothes back on. "We're going home now." A pause. A slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. “You are still able to walk, which means I’m far from done with you tonight.”

-

It's Monday morning, 8:15 a.m. The air in the lecture hall is fresh. The windows are still open, even though it's noticeably colder outside. Autumn has begun, and the first leaves are already falling from the trees. You're sitting in your usual seat in the second row, right by the window.

You're prepared, as always. Criminology is more than just a subject for you. It's your thing. And yes, you're good at it. One of the best, according to your professor. But you simply have a good memory, and it's easy for you to find the connections. You love what you do.

Professor Hartmann is a great professor. Old-fashioned, but smart. And strict. He challenges his students, never going easy on you. You respect him and like his teaching style. But a few weeks ago, in one of his lectures, he said that he is soon retiring because of health reasons. The announcement came unexpected.

Since then, no one knows who will replace him. No information, no photo, no name – just an email from the student council with the vague sentence “We're looking forward to a fresh, modern perspective in the Criminology department." And then... he enters the room.

You don't know whether you notice his voice or his face first. Maybe both at the same time. "Good morning. I'm Dr. Spencer Reid. I'm excited to be exploring criminology with you starting this semester - with an eye on the reality out there,” he says when he comes in.

He's tall, slim, with an almost outrageously casual elegance. Shirt, dark brown blazer, sleeves slightly rolled up. His hair is messy and curly. And his eyes... those eyes. You can't look away. Your heart is beating faster. What the hell is wrong with you? You usually never get distracted, especially not because of a man.

You’re one of the students who always writes everything down, who thinks along, analyzes, asks critical questions. But at this moment? You have no idea what he's saying. Something about the history of profiling, you think. Or is it forensic psychology? You look at your notebook. Empty. Your pen lies there. Untouched.

As he explains the semester's outline, your gaze keeps wandering to him. Not just because he's handsome - that's almost beside the point. It's the way he moves, the way he speaks. The way he treats the topics as if they were alive. As if he weren't just teaching them, but understanding them on a whole other level. He's smart. And not just "I have a doctorate" smart.

And you? You sit there, as if hypnotized. Completely distracted. Your mind is racing. You don't know what to do. The semester hasn't even really started yet, and you know you're in trouble.

-

Since that first Monday, something has changed. You still arrive on time, sit in your usual seat, prepared and yet it happens every time. As soon as he enters the room, your mind is blank. Not blank-blank, but full – with the wrong thoughts.

His lecture on perpetrator typologies? Fascinating. His explanations of psychological casework at BAU? Impressive. You want to listen, you want to think along, but all you do is look at him. The way he walks around the room. The way he sometimes speaks too fast because his mind is apparently faster than his words.

He's a genius. Not in that exhausting way, but in the way that fascinates and leaves you speechless. And he's not even arrogant about it – just completely absorbed in what he's doing.

You're lost in your thoughts. More and more often, you find yourself watching his hands as he writes something down. Or how his voice changes when he talks about difficult cases. It’s more quiet, more serious, with an expression you only have when you've seen things you'll never fully forget.

You understand the content but there's this discrepancy between knowledge and performance now. You don't lose track. You trade it for thoughts that have nothing to do with the class but rather with him. In the third week, you're unprepared for the first time. It's not a disaster, but you haven't finished reading the case study. And you hate it.

You hate not being able to concentrate as much anymore. Not being properly prepared. But you've been too busy trying to explain to yourself what's actually going on with you and how to get yourself back on track.

-

It’s another Monday morning and the room fills with nervous murmuring. Spencer is standing at the front of the desk, handing out the marked exams. You don't even want to know what grade you got. The subject actually suited you. You knew the answers - at least until you looked up for a moment and saw him roll up the sleeves from his shirt. That was enough to completely distract you.

You wait, trying not to let on, but your gaze keeps wandering to him. You're trying really hard to ignore him. But it's not working. As he places your exam on your desk, he gives you a quick nod. You can barely look at him. When you glance at the grade, the infatuation immediately disappears.

You understand the material. You used to be the best. But lately, your mind seems to be more focused on your professor than on studying. You shove the papers into your bag and are about to head for the door when you hear your name. You freeze. His voice hits you like an electric shock. You slowly turn around.

"We need to talk about your exam. Let's say around 3 p.m in my office?” he asks. You feel hot. Not from fear but because your mind immediately runs through a thousand scenarios. You nod. "Yeah, sure," you mumble, trying to hide your blush. "Fine," he says and smiles before he goes back to his papers.

-

Now you're standing in front of the building. Third floor, left corridor. Room 3.17. His office. It's 2:56 p.m. You arrived way too early, hiding in the library for ten minutes, but now you're here. You take a deep breath and try to stay calm. Your heart isn't cooperating. This is just a conversation. Maybe he wants feedback. Maybe it was just a bad exam. Maybe he's noticed how you look at him in every lecture - then you have a problem.

You push your hair back from your face and knock. "Come in." You press the handle and step inside. He's standing at the window, just turning around. Shirt, sleeves rolled up. And oh god, he’s wearing glasses. Your brain is on strike. "Hello," you say. Or do you think that? No, you're really saying it. Luckily, your voice sounds more stable than you feel.

He nods at you. "It's great to have you here. Please sit down." You take a seat, put down your bag, and try not to appear nervous. He sits down and folds his hands. "I wanted to talk to you about your exam," he begins calmly. "You were one of Professor Hartmann's strongest students. According to him, your contributions were precise and analytical. He specifically praised you." You nod.

"That's why your grade surprised me," he says. "The analysis was superficial. And I wouldn't have expected those mistakes from you." You want to say something. An explanation. But your mouth remains dry. So you just nod. Then he asks, "Is there anything going on in your life that distracts you from studying?" You look at him. A moment too long. Your lips part. But what are you trying to say?

That he’s the reason? That your head is chaos every time he enters the room? You swallow. "It's nothing bad," you say quietly. He raises an eyebrow, tilts his head. He's analyzing you. Reading you. "Good," he says. "Then let's change that. I think there's more to you than this grade shows." His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer. You nod and try to avoid his eyes. Sitting here, alone with him, in his office - it makes you nervous.

For a moment it is quiet and you are about to say that you should leave now when he speaks up again. "You know, it's not hard to see that you were a little... distracted." Your heart races and your eyes widen. Oh no. You know you've just given too much away. "Don't worry," he continues. "I understand. Thoughts sometimes take on a life of their own. Especially when you're sitting across from someone so... fascinating."

Fascinating. The word echoes in your head. You feel like he knows exactly what he's doing. And you have no idea how you'll ever get out of this. He leans back and looks at you, a small smile on his lips, while you almost feel like he's secretly wondering how much longer you'll last without blushing with embarrassment.

He raises an eyebrow, as if trying to read you - as if he's already read you. "Or did you honestly think I wouldn’t notice?" Your heart skips a beat. Heat crawls up your neck. Too late. Your eyes give you away and he sees it. He continues leaning back ever so slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. It’s a slow, calculated move, as if he’s savoring the moment, stretching it out.

He knows exactly what he’s doing, how he’s doing it. And you have no idea how you’ll escape this, or if you even want to. He watches you as though he’s already playing a game you don’t know the rules to. His lips curl slightly, a hint of something almost teasing. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you. "I wonder..." His voice lowers and he leans closer to you, "What exactly occupies that pretty little head of yours... to the point where you almost forget how obvious it all is."

He lets the words hang in the air, like a challenge or a threat. And as you hold your breath, you realize: you’ve already lost. The only question is whether you’ll admit it - or if he’ll make you. Your breath hitches, barely audible, but it’s enough. His eyes flicker. He looks pleased. Not surprised. Like he was expecting it, like he was hoping for it. 

You try to speak, to say something, but you can’t get a word out. He stands up, walks around his desk and comes closer to you. You can smell the faint trace of coffe and books. You blink once and suddenly he’s in your space, hovering just at the edge of touch, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. He doesn’t touch you, that would make it too easy.

“I think,” he says slowly, every word deliberate, “you like pretending you still have control.” His gaze drops for the briefest second and when it meets yours again, it’s different. Full of lust and desire. “But you gave that up the second you lied to me.” You feel your heart beating faster and faster.

He leans in, mouth near your ear now. “The question, sweetheart, isn’t whether I noticed,” his breath is warm, intoxicating, “it’s what I’ll do now that I have.” Something inside you unravels. His lips linger against your ear, resting there like he belongs there, like he’s earned the right to touch you this way. And maybe he has. Maybe that’s the most dangerous part: how natural it feels now, to have him this close, this deep under your skin.

You exhale shakily as his hand trails lower, fingertips ghosting along your thigh, teasing, never quite where you want them, where you need them. Your hips shift instinctively, seeking more, but he only smirks, dragging his mouth down your neck, each kiss deliberate, maddening. "Still holding on?" he murmurs, voice rough, lips brushing just below your collarbone.

You want to challenge him. Tell him he hasn't won. That you're still in control. But the words never make it past your lips. Because his hand finally slides exactly where you need him, and your body arches into his like it was made for this moment. A quiet curse slips from your mouth, caught somewhere between surrender and desire, and he drinks in the sound like it's a reward.

He looks up at you, eyes half-lidded and burning. "Say it. Say you want this." And you do - god, you do -but your pride clings to silence even as your body betrays you, trembling beneath his touch. He leans in again, this time pressing his lips to yours, his breath uneven, his control clearly thinning.

“Why don’t you get up and lock the door for me, sweetheart?” he asks and that’s the moment you give in. You've dreamed about it so often, so why not take the chance and make it come true? Besides, you're too much turned on right now to leave. It’s wrong, you know that - he’s your professor after all - but you don’t care. You want him. You need him.

So you get up and quickly lock his door. When you turn back to him, he's leaning against his desk, grinning. "See, it wasn't that hard to listen to me, was it?” he says and motions for you to come closer. Your heart has never beat as fast as it does now and when you feel his lips on yours again, you could swear that it is bursting with excitement.

He doesn't stop kissing you, even as he shifts, fitting his body more fully against yours, like he's been waiting for this moment far longer than he'd ever admit. His hand slides behind your knee, lifting your leg to wrap around his hip, guiding you into him with aching precision. The friction alone draws a gasp from your lips-and his in return. "You feel that?" he growls softly, teeth grazing your jaw. "That's what you do to me."

There's no space left between you now and you cling to him, hands roaming, greedy, nails dragging under his shirt and down his back just enough to make him hiss through his teeth. Then he moves, a slow roll of his hips that sets every nerve in your body alight. It's maddening, torturous. “Oh god, Professor. I - I need more.” He slides his hand up your thigh slowly, stopping where you need him the most.

“Then beg for it,” he says. “What?” you ask, confused. “You heard me. Beg for it. Beg me to touch you, to fuck you, to ruin you,” he says and smirks. “I’m not going to beg,” you say, annoyed that he’s not giving you what you want so bad. “Then I won't fuck you, it's that simple. And I don’t think you want that, do you?” he asks you and pushes against you. You can feel how hard he is and it drives you crazy.

“I hate you,” you hiss out, grinding against him in order to release some friction. He grabs your hips and holds them still before leaning down to whisper in your ear. “No, you don’t. And now, be good girl and beg. If you keep making this difficult there won’t be much time left for me to fuck you and that would be such a shame, considering I wanted to take my time to worship you like you deserve it,” he says.

You didn’t think it was possible, but these words turn you on even more. You need him, now, everywhere. You push your pride aside and look up to him through your lashes, roaming your hands over his chest and opening the first buttons of his shirt while maintaining eye contact. “Please, Professor. I need you to touch me. I need you to fuck me. Please make me come on your cock,” you say and he looks pleased.

“See, that was not hard, was it?” he asks but you ignore him. He presses his lips to the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your throat - anywhere he can reach. "You're mine now," he breathes, hips grinding more against you, slower, enough to leave you trembling. "Every inch of you,” he says before he finally slips his hand up your skirt again, grazing your clit through your panties. You shiver.

His hand tugs at your panties before he pulls them to the side, sliding a finger through your folds. “Now look at that. You’re already soaked,” he says with a smirk and slips a finger inside you, while his thumb circles your clit. You moan out loud and his other hand covers your mouth immediately. “Shh, sweetheart. You have to keep quiet for me if you don’t want us to get caught,” he says.

The thought makes you clench around his finger and he chuckles. “Interesting. You like the idea of getting caught, don’t you?” he asks and pushes another finger in. You bite down on your lip in order to stay quiet because he is right - you don’t want to get caught. Not here, not now. But the thought definitely turns you on. “Answer me,” he says, pumping his fingers faster. “Y-yes, I - I do.”

Your legs begin to shake and you hold onto his arms in order to still stand up straight. He notices your struggle and lifts you up so you sit on his desk. He finally takes your panties off, stuffing them in his pocket. You spread your legs wider for him and he looks pleased at the sight in front of him. “Please fuck me, Professor. I need you so bad,” you whine but he shakes his head.

“Not yet. I have to taste you first,” he says and leans down, his head disappearing between your thighs. He wraps his arms around your thighs to keep you close to him before he leans forward and places a kiss on your cunt. You can feel his breath on you and reach for his hair, pulling him closer against you. Then his tongue finally makes contact with your cunt, flicking over your clit first. You gasp out loudly, tugging at his soft, brown curls and looking down to him.

Seeing your Professor down on his knees, between your thighs is a sight you will never forget. He eats you out like he wants to draw every last sound out of you. And he does. When he finally starts to push his tongue into you, he drinks all your whimpers and moans in like they're fuel, like they prove something, and in the way he watches you, you realize that this isn't just about lust. This is control. Intimacy. A claiming.

He adds his fingers again and the pleasure becomes too much. Your toes are curling and you can feel your orgasm approaching. Spencer can tell that you’re close too. He sucks at your clit again and your mind goes blank. But then he suddenly pulls back. You pant and give him an angry look. “What are you doing? I was close,” you breath out, already fucked out. “I know. But I decided I’m not letting you come yet,” he says.

“Asshole,” you hiss through gritted theeth and he shakes his head in disappointment. “That's no way to talk to your professor. It looks to me like I need to give you a lesson in respect,” he says. “I -“ you begin but he already pulls you from the table before turning you around and bending you over it. He pulls down your skirt in one quick motion before his hand roams over your ass.

You turn around to look at him, to snap at him, to tell him you hate him for doing that but you can’t because his hand is coming down onto your ass, spanking you. You didn’t expect that but it turns you on immensely. “Count and take your punishment like a good girl,” he says. “O -one,” you breath out and feel a wave of excitement washing through you. He was really not lying when he said he’s making all your dreams come true. Because as much as you hate to admit it, this is what you dreamed about too.

His hand comes down again and you feel the sharp pain again. But it feels good. You didn’t think it’s even possible but every minute with him turns you on even more. You push against him to show him you want more, feeling his hard cock again. “Oh you are enjoying this, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he asks and you nod. His hand comes down again and you continue counting. After ten strikes he decides that you have enough.

“That’s it, you took it like a good girl for me,” he says and leans down to kiss your neck gently. It’s a sweet, caring moment and it makes you feel safe with him. However, you’re still turned on, especially after he punished you like this. “Will you fuck me now?” you ask him eagerly and he laughs. “Of course, sweetheart. You think I don’t want to feel your pretty pussy wrapped around my cock?” he says and begins to open his pants.

When he finally pulls out his cock your eyes widen. He is big, way bigger than you always expected. He strokes his cock a few times and you watch him with a hungry look in your eyes. If you weren't so turned on right now, you'd be embarrassed about how much you want him, need him. But you don’t care, who blames you? He's hot and smart, the perfect combination.

He comes closer and finally slides his cock through your folds, hitting your clit and teasing you yet again. “Just - just fuck me already,” you hiss out through gritted teeth. When he stops you quickly add a “Please, Professor” and he praises you. “Good girl, that’s what I wanted to hear.” Then he finally pushes in.

It feels even better than you expected. You can’t help but moan out his name loudly. “Shh, quiet sweetheart,” he reminds you and you nod. He’s right. You don’t want anyone to find out or worse, get interrupted right now. Not now, when you finally have him.

He starts to pound into you and your eyes roll back in pleasure. The sensation of him inside you drives you crazy. Low groans fell from Spencer's lips when one of his hands moved to your clit, rubbing rough circles. The way you move with him, the way your body responds, open and aching and utterly undone - that's your surrender.

And he feels it. You can tell in the way he growls your name like it's sacred. “You look so good like this, completely fucked out by your Professor,” he says and his pace falters, deepens, roughens. The rhythm between you spirals into something frantic, raw-beautiful in its chaos. The kind of connection that blurs the line between pleasure and need. Between dominance and devotion.

When he hits the right spot over and over again and trails his hand down to circle your clit, you completely lose it. You clench around him and he knows you’re close. He almost feels bad for what he’s about to do. He pushes deeper, increasing his pace until he’s close too. But instead of making you two come together, he pulls out. “What the fuck are you -“ you start but he shifts, pulling you up from his desk to push you on your knees. “Open,” he says and you obey, taking his cock in your mouth to swallow his cum.

You think he has something else planned for you, convinced he still wants to make you come but when he finished and starts to put himself together again you give him a questioning look. “What are you doing?” you ask him. “As you can see, we’re done, sweetheart. I’m putting myself back together. My office hours start soon. You have to leave now,” he simply says and sits down at his desk. “Are you fucking serious?” you ask furiously. “I didn’t even come,” you say.

“Only good girls - good students - get to come. And you haven't been that lately. Show me you're getting better, focus on your exams, get a better grade the next time and you'll get what you deserve,” he says with a smirk on his face and you are so angry, so frustrated that you can’t get a word out for about a minute. Then you have an idea.

He’s not playing fair, but you can do that too. “I can just report you, you know,” you say. You never plan to do that, but he doesn’t need to know that. He looks up and laughs before getting up from his chair, walking around his desk and slowly approaching you again. Your whole body is shaking with anger, frustration and pleasure. “You can, but you won’t,” he says with a grin on his face.

It isn't like you are trying to fall for Spencer Reid. In fact, you do your absolute best not to. You keep it professional. Friendly. Safe. Because if there is one thing you are sure of, it is that he doesn't feel the same. It isn't anything he does. He isn't cold or rude to you. Quite the opposite – he is kind and polite. But never more than that.

You aren't the type to be noticed by someone like him. Not after everything that happened. Prison changed him, and if there is ever a chance he looked your way before, it is long gone now. So you keep your crush a secret, but some days make that harder than others. Like tonight.

You sit on the edge of the bed, files spread all around you, but your focus is on Spencer. He stands by the window, arms crossed, eyes scanning the city below. You can tell he is thinking. He looks tense. Focused. Hot.

And all you want is to be close to him. To touch him. To tell him you noticed the way his smiles have grown rarer since prison, and that you missed them. That you missed him. But you don't.

-

The next day, everything shifts. You are closing in on the case, currently on the way to arrest the UnSub. The farmhouse where he is holed up looks like it could collapse any second. You, Spencer, and Morgan decided to split up. You take the back and step over a few broken door frames, your flashlight shining in the dark. A few minutes later you hear a noise.

You recognize it’s Spencer’s. "I need you to put down the knife. Now." You sprint toward the voices, and what you see nearly stops your heart. The UnSub takes a step forward and tries to stab Spencer in the stomach. But Spencer, he is faster. He sidesteps, catches the man’s wrist, twists it back, and then shoves him up against the wall with a force that makes you shiver.

One arm locks the guy in place, while the other brings out the cuffs. He works quick and controlled. And god, you are not okay... Your feet move on autopilot, but your brain doesn't. You can barely think past the rush of heat that explodes inside you at the sight of him. It is like watching a completely different version of him. You stare and just can’t look away.

He turns to you when it’s over. "You okay?" he asks. "Uh—yeah," you manage to breathe out. "I’m fine. Just... Didn’t know you have that in you." His mouth twitches into something between a smile and a smirk for a second. "Prison teaches you a few things." You try to play it cool. You really do. But your cheeks are already burning.

-

Back at the hotel, you tell yourself to forget it. That it’s just adrenaline. That the reason you’re so flushed has nothing to do with Spencer’s hands and everything to do with the takedown. Yeah, sure.

You avoid him the rest of the evening. Bury yourself in reports, avoid eye contact at dinner. Because the idea that you’ve reacted so obviously… and that he might’ve noticed? Absolutely mortifying. So when there’s a knock at your door around 10 p.m., the last person you expect to see is him.

“Spencer?” you blink. He stands there, holding two cups of tea like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I figured you might need a distraction,” he says. “The last few days were intense.” You hesitate. Just for a second. Because what is he doing here? Still, you step aside. “Yeah. Uh… thanks.”

He sits beside you on the edge of the bed, hands you the tea, and for a while it’s quiet. Then he breaks the silence. “So… you were staring.” You freeze mid-sip. “What?” you ask, trying to act confused. “At the farmhouse.” He turns his head, watching you. “You looked surprised. And a little… flustered.”

“I was not—” you start, but he interrupts you. “You were,” he says, and this time there’s something different in his voice. He’s teasing you. “And then Garcia texted me something… interesting.” Oh god. You already know what’s coming. “No,” you say, but he nods, clearly enjoying himself.

“She said you made a comment about me. Something along the lines of… ‘if Spencer ever wants to manhandle me like that, he can.’ ” You nearly drop the tea. “She did not say that to you,” you say. “She did,” he says with a smirk. You think about an excuse, anything that might save you from total humiliation. “That is—I mean—I don’t mean it like—”.

He tilts his head. “Don’t you?” You blink at him. “I - no, and I… I think you don’t even like me like that.” His expression softens instantly. The teasing fades, just enough for something real to shine through. “What makes you think that?” he asks gently. You shrug, suddenly very aware of how close he’s sitting next to you. “I don’t know. You never… looked at me that way. You always seem kind of... distant.”

Spencer is quiet for a moment. “Yeah. I guess I do.” He looks down at his tea, then back at you. “The truth is… after prison, it was hard to let anyone in. I didn’t feel like myself. I didn’t really trust myself for a while. So I kept my distance.” He pauses. “Maybe I was trying too hard not to look at you that way.”

That shuts your brain down completely. “You were?” you whisper. He nods once. “Ever since I got back. Maybe even before that.” You didn’t expect that, but when his words settle, you grin. “So… what now?” you ask him. He leans in, eyes flicking to your lips for just a second. “Still want me to manhandle you?” he asks with a smirk back in full force. “Spencer!” you say, blushing and playfully hitting his arm.

He laughs and sets his tea aside, hand brushing your knee as he stands. “I’ll take that as a yes.” You stare up at him, still sitting on the bed, heart pounding against your ribs. He is looking at you differently now. “You’re seriously enjoying this,” you say with a shaky voice. “Enjoying what?” he asks, acting oblivious. “Teasing me,” you say, and his smile widens.

“Of course I do.” You roll your eyes playfully. “You’re insufferable,” you say. “Maybe,” he murmurs. “But you still want to kiss me.” You open your mouth, probably to deny it - or argue - or make some sarcastic remark, but nothing comes out. Because he’s already leaning down. And then, finally, his lips brush against yours. It’s barely there at first, but the moment you kiss him back, everything shifts.

His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, thumb tracing your cheekbone as his mouth moves against yours. You let out a quiet sound you don’t mean to, fingers curling into his shirt, and that’s all it takes for the kiss to deepen. Spencer’s other hand finds your waist, pulling you closer against him and the heat between you is impossible to ignore now.

His lips part slightly against yours, breath hitching when your hand slides up to his neck. The kiss turns messier then, hungrier. Like all the months of silence snap at once, and now there’s no holding back. He exhales against your lips. “You have no idea how long I wanted to do this,” he admits. “Try me,” you whisper, and he kisses you again, harder this time.

You gasp softly as he guides you back onto the bed, one hand bracing beside your head, the other trailing along your waist. His body hovers over yours. His lips ghost down to your jaw, then just below your ear. Your fingers tangle in his shirt, desperate to keep him close, to make this real.

“Spencer,” you breathe out while his hand is sliding under the hem of your shirt, your legs brushing against his. He pulls back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze. “Tell me you want this,” he says, voice rough and low, “tell me you want me to fuck you.” You look up at him, skin flushed, chest rising and falling in sync with his. “Please Spencer,” you whisper, “I - I need you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me hard. Now.“

For a heartbeat, he doesn’t move. Just stares at you like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you — like he can’t quite believe this is real. Then he leans down and kisses you again. "If at any point it gets too much for you, just let me know. I don't want to hurt you," he says with a worried look when he pulls back again.

A feeling of warmth and security spreads through you. "You look cute when you're worried," you tease him. "but I don't break easily,“ you say and wink. Then his hands are back on your waist, your back, your skin — everywhere at once. You can’t stop touching him, can’t get close enough to him.

The tension between you, held back for so long, finally melts into heat, passion, pleasure and love. His fingers hook around the hem of your pants and he pulls them off in one quick motion. Your top comes off next, then your bra and panties, that are already soaked through. His eyes trail over your body hungrily and he starts to kiss down your neck slowly.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he whispers in your ear and a shiver runs down your spine. His words and all the kisses make you even more desperate and you can’t help but buck your hips against him. You can feel his erection and want more but he pushes your hips back down. “Someone’s needy,” he says, not giving you what you want yet. “Spencer, please. Don’t make me wait,” you whimper and he chuckles.

He keeps kissing down your body - your breasts first, taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You observe his actions and seeing his big, slender hand around your breasts is a sight you didn’t expect to enjoy this much. You moan his name and he looks up and follows your gaze. “Like what you see, angel?” he asks and you nod. His hands continue to roam over your body, down to your stomach and between your thighs.

He keeps his eyes on you, observing every little reaction before he finally runs his fingers through your folds. “So wet, is this all for me?” he asks and you nod. “Words, angel. Tell me how good I make you feel,” he says, stopping for a moment. “Y-yes. All for you,” you breath out and he looks satisfied.

With one finger he starts to trail circles around your clit, slowly applying more and more pressure before slipping a finger in. It feels so good and you cover your mouth with your hand in order to stop meaning out loudly. Spencer however doesn’t like it, he immediately reaches for your hand and pulls it off. “No, don’t do that. I want to hear you moan for me for me angel.”

He adds another finger and starts to pump them in and out faster, keeping one finger on your clit the whole time. You can’t help but lean forward to watch his hand again, knuckles buried deep inside you. “Looks like my hands are quite a distraction to you,” he says and chuckles again before his other hand wraps around your throat, squeezing just perfectly.

You don’t respond, too focused on the pleasure and how good his hand looks buried inside you. With the sight in front of you, the feeling of his fingers inside you and his hand wrapped around your throat it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to build up. Your legs start to shake slightly and you clench around Spencers fingers. You’re almost there when he suddenly pulls out. You whine. “Spencer, what the hell are you doing? I was so close!” you curse.

“I know. But I to feel you come around my cock,” he says before he starts to take his clothes off. When he unbuttons his pants your eyes widen. He’s certainly bigger than you expected. He starts to stroke his cock and you can’t help but watch him. Even though you can’t wait to feel him inside you, you enjoy watching him. Then he leans down and spreads your legs further apart.

He lines himself up at your entrance, sliding through your wet folds and teasing your clit again before he finally pushes inside you. “So tight and wet for me, angel. You’re all mine now,” he says. He gives you some time to adjust before he starts to pound into you. He leans down next, sucking on your neck and breasts, leaving hickeys everywhere and claiming you as his.

The room is filled with your moans and whimpers and when Spencer looks down and sees his cock sliding in and out of you he groans. You wouldn't have thought that something could turn you on even more, but hearing him groan certainly did. “Oh god, so good. Pl - please, don’t stop,” you manage to breath out, your mind already lost in all the pleasure.

His grip on your hips tightens and he increases his pace. He can feel you clench around him and almost feels bad for what he’s about to do. He applies pressure on your clit again, playing close attention to your reactions and when your close again he pulls out of you. “A- Again? Are you fucking serious?” you ask furiously. You can tell he enjoys the control he has over you. “I hate you so much right now,” you say but he just grins.

“Say it like you mean it,” he says before he suddenly grabs you and flips you over. You’re on all fours now, ass up in the air facing him. He immediately slides back into you, pounding into you hard from behind and hitting new angles and reaching spots you never could. One of his hand slides up your back and into your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail and pulling hard.

Your back arches up and you can feel your body pressed against his. His other hand suddenly comes down on your ass, spanking you. You moan out his name so loud that you’re afraid your neighbours now know what you’re doing in here, but you don’t really care. “That’s what you wanted, am I right? For me to fuck you? To spank you?” Your eyes roll back in pleasure and you’re too overwhelmed to answer him.

Spencer how ever doesn‘t like that. The hand he just hand in your hair goes down to your throat again while he gives you an another spank. “Answer me,” he says and slows down, pressing you against his body and leaning down next to your ear. “Tell me how much you love this,” he whispers in your ear. “I- I love this. I love it when you fuck me hard, Spencer,” you say quickly, afraid that he’ll not let you come at all if you don’t.

“Good girl,” he says and kisses the spot behind your ear gently before he picks up his pace again. You can feel him twitch inside you, telling you that he’s getting close now too. “I’m gonna tell you when you’re allowed to come. I want us to come together, do you understand?” he asks as if he’s read your thoughts. “Yes,” you breath out quickly before you get too lost in the pleasure again.

He thrusts into you again a few times before he slides his hand forward, teasing your clit with his fingers again. “Come for me, angel. Now,” he says and you let go. Your orgasm crashes over you and you never had one this intense before. You can feel him twitch inside you before he finishes too. For a second you see stars. When you finally come down, he lets go of you and slides out.

You lay down together, completely out of breath and he pulls you in his arms. Neither of you say a word but he holds you close to him, gently stroking your hair. It’s a quiet, peaceful moment but after a while Spencer speaks up. “You should go to the toilet now. I don’t want you to get UTIs,” he says and you groan. “You know how to ruin a moment, don’t you Dr. Reid?” you joke and he laughs.

You still remember exactly what you were doing when the call came in.

It had been one of those quiet, blissfully uneventful afternoons. The kind that makes you forget, just for a moment, that the world can be anything but gentle. You were in the kitchen, barefoot on the cold tiles, humming along to a playlist Spencer made for you.

A soft blend of instrumental music, jazz and old love songs with that one cello piece he loved most playing in the background. You had just finished scribbling down a list with your wedding ideas. Nothing official, just some thoughts, half-finished sentences and little hearts in the corners. You'd even written "First dance?" and underneath, "maybe Can't Help Falling in Love with you?"

The one you always danced to in the living room when the lights were off and only the streetlights lit the walls. It was a moment of pure love and chaos since the two of you are both not experts in dancing. Still, everything felt like it was falling into place.

And then your phone rang. You glanced at the screen, expecting maybe your sister or Spencer, but the name Penelope made you smile. Little did you know, that smile only lasted a second. From the moment you answered, you knew something was wrong.

Penelope's voice, usually bubbling with warmth and excitement, sounded completely still. She didn't even say hi the way she normally would. Just silence. A deep breath. And then she slowly said "Spencer... he's been arrested." The world tilted. Just a fraction. But it was enough.

You pressed the phone harder to your ear, thinking maybe you'd heard her wrong. "Arrested? Penelope, what are you talking about?" Your voice trembled, and your body was already reacting. Your hands started shaking, your heart started pounding and your mouth suddenly went dry.

"Murder," she said quietly. "Suspicion of murder, to be more exact. JU is already on her way to you. She'll explain more." You didn't register the words at first. Murder? Spencer? No. That made no sense. None.

You grabbed the edge of the table for support as your knees buckled slightly. The kitchen, once warm and filled with music and dreams, now felt cold. Your breath came in short, painful bursts, your chest too tight to hold the panic that suddenly clawed its way up your throat.

It had to be a mistake. It had to be. You know him. You know the way he treats people, the way he speaks about life. He's kind. He's caring. He wouldn't hurt anyone, ever. He'd rather take the fall himself than cause pain to someone else. And now... now he was sitting in a cell somewhere, scared, confused, hurt. And there was absolutely nothing you could do.

Your legs gave way and you collapsed onto the sofa, hands over your face, your whole body tight with grief and disbelief. You cried. Not softly, not quietly, but the kind of crying that comes when something inside you shatters. The kind that's filled with fear.

And through the tears, there was only one thought that repeated itself over and over, louder than the fear, louder than the chaos: I will not rest until he's with me again.

-

Now you're sitting in a hard plastic chair in the visiting room. The air smells of dust and despair, and the white walls feel like they're pressing in on you. You try to keep your hands still on the metal table, but they won't stop trembling. Your heart is thudding in your chest so loudly it drowns out the sounds around you. Voices. Footsteps. A guard coughing. None of it matters. You just want to see him.

And then, after what feels like a lifetime, the door opens. Your breath catches in your throat. And there he is. Spencer. But not the way you remember him. He looks tired, more than tired. He looks exhausted in a way that makes your heart physically ache. His hair is messy, his posture tense.

And his eyes... god, his eyes. They used to hold so much light. They sparkled when he talked about things he loved, lit up when he looked at you. But now they're dull, like someone turned down the brightness inside him. There's a heaviness in him that wasn't there before.

He sits across from you, and there's this awful piece of glass between you, keeping you apart. You want to reach out, to grab his hand, to touch his face, but you can't. You're not even allowed to do that. "You don't belong here," you whisper. Your voice is shaking. He swallows hard. It's clear that seeing you like this is tearing him apart.

He doesn't say anything for a few seconds. Then finally, he speaks. "I've had a lot of time to think. About everything. And it's... not looking good. I know we just got engaged but maybe you... you shouldn't wait for me. I don't want you wasting your life on me."

It feels like the air has been punched from your lungs. You blink. Once. Twice. "That's the first thing you say to me?" Your voice is sharper than before, but it's still trembling. "You think l'd just give up on you? Because it gets hard?"

You lean forward, close as you can get without touching the glass. "Do you remember last month?" you ask. "On the roof?" He looks at you, and something shifts in his expression. A flicker of something softer. Sadder. "Of course I do." You close your eyes for a moment, as if you can relive it just by remembering.

It was one of the nights where the two of you climbed onto the roof in your apartment again. In the middle of the night, when everyone was already asleep and only a few windows were lit. You always loved it, the peace and quiet atmosphere up there. Just the sky, the stars and Spencer.

That evening, you hadn't suspected anything. You'd been tired, but Spencer persuaded you to go outside. "Come," he'd said, "just for a bit. The sky is clear today and there will be lots of shooting stars." And you'd laughed, grabbed the blanket, and climbed outside after him.

You'd lain down, the city below you, the sky above you, his hand in yours. As so often, it had been quiet. You'd simply enjoyed the moment and the closeness to each other, looking at the stars. Then he'd sat up, quite suddenly. You looked at him in surprise, but he just smiled at you - that smile you love so much.

He nervously pulled a small box out of his jacket pocket, and your heart immediately started beating faster. "You know," he had said, "I've been thinking for a long time about how I should propose to you. Whether it should be big, romantic, or spectacular... and then I realized, I actually want to do it right here. At our place.

Where we first confessed our love to each other. Under the sky we've looked at together so many times." Your eyes had swelled with tears before he'd even finished the sentence. "Because that's exactly what I want. That you lie next to me forever. On this roof, in this life, even after death - everywhere. That you stay with me, even when it rains. Even when the sky isn't always clear."

Then he got on his knee and opened the box - inside was a ring, simple, beautiful, exactly your style. "Will you marry me?" You looked at him and simply nodded. Wordlessly at first, because you couldn't speak.

Then you managed to breath out a quiet, shaky "Yes. Yes, I do," before you fell into his arms, crying. He kissed you, for a long time. And then you sat there, tightly embraced, looking at the stars. It was your moment. Real. And perfect.

Now, in this cold room with fear clinging to the both of you, you hold onto that memory like it's the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely. "I said yes," you tell him now, voice steady despite the tears in your eyes. "And I didn't just say yes to the easy parts. I said yes to everything. To you. To all of it." Spencer looks down. His shoulders shake slightly, and you know he's holding back tears.

"I love you," you continue. "And I'm not leaving. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. We're going to get through this. We're going to prove you're innocent, because you are. And when you walk out of here, I'll be standing right there, waiting for you." He doesn't speak, but you see it. His expression is breaking, crumbling, piece by piece. The fear, the pain, the helplessness, all of it giving way to something else - Hope. Fragile, but real.

"I think about our wedding every day," you say. "Even if we don't know when it'll be. It'll happen. We'll make it happen. I'll wait for you. Not because I have to. Because there's no one else I want. Just you." You smile through your tears.

It‘s a warm summer evening, and Rossi's garden is filled with laughter and music. He’s celebrating his birthday and you stand at a table with a glass of champagne in your hand, watching the people dance. It‘s a welcome change after all the stressful weeks.

"You look like you enjoy the music more by yourself," you hear a familiar voice behind you. You turn around and see Derek approaching you with a grin. "Or to put it another way," he continues, "it looks like you're the only one not dancing."

You laugh and look at him as he extends a hand. "All right, Derek. What are you up to?" you ask him. "Can I have this dance?" He winks at you and you can't help but grin. It’s impossible to turn him down.

"Of course," you say before putting down your glass and placing your hand in his. He puts his arm around your waist and pulls you to the middle of the dance floor with a confident grin. The music is catchy, and you follow him, trying to keep up with the beat.

But you quickly realize that Derek isn't the best dancer. He keeps stepping on your feet, which makes you burst out laughing every time. "Hey, watch out," you say, trying to avoid the next step. "I don't want to end up with sore feet at the end of the night!"

"Sorry, sorry," he says with an apologetic grin. You both laugh as he tries to pull himself together. Suddenly, you feel someone staring at you. Your eyes wander to the corner of the garden and you spot Spencer, positioned slightly off to the side of the dance floor. His gaze is intense, almost jealous, and for a moment you pause.

You got together with him last month but the two of you decided to keep your relationship a secret to avoid the constant teasing of others and the possible problems at work. But now, with that look, you can't help it, and a wide grin spreads across your face.

Derek, noticing your gaze, follows your gaze and frowns. "What's wrong?" he asks, but you just shake your head. "Nothing," you reply, still grinning. "Let's just keep dancing." Derek laughs and leads you further in the dance.

The music continues and Derek, who always enjoys stirring up the team, follows your gaze and sees Spencer, who, as always, is standing a little off to the side. He grins and calls out, "Come here, Pretty Boy! It's time for you to dance!"

You can hardly believe it when Derek simply marches forward and pulls Spencer onto the dance floor. Spencer hesitates for a moment but Derek, almost a little too impatient, brings him over to you. "He's yours now. Have fun you two," Derek says before he steps back with a grin.

You can’t help but smile. Spencer seems a little surprised, but also amused, as he turns over to you. "You can expect me to step on your feet again and even worse than Derek, I fear," he says with a crooked smile that makes you laugh again.

"I know," you say, laughing as he put a hand around your waist and pulls you closer. In that moment, you feel the familiar butterflies in your stomach. It’s still so new, so exciting, and you really have to pull yourself together not to kiss him right then and there.

Spencer notices your hesitation and, as discreetly as possible, snuck his finger over your hip as the song slowly comes to a close. The gentle, almost invisible contact makes your heart skip a beat. You look into each other's eyes for a moment longer than necessary.

Just as the music slowly changes and the song ends, you pull away, your eyes meeting briefly once more before you slowly move apart. But the moment isn’t quite over yet. Derek, who had obviously watched everything, can’t hold back. With a cheeky grin, he calls out, "Well, well, well, look at this!"

Both you and Spencer’s faces turn noticeably redder. You feel the blood rising in your cheeks, and to escape the awkward situation, you quickly turn around and head towards the table, where you grab your glass of champagne and take a sip to compose yourself.

"You have no chance of escaping us," Derek calls after you, but all you can do is grin shyly and hope that the evening will somehow continue without the others getting any closer discovering your secret.

-

The evening passes and you keep feeling Spencer's eyes on you. It is as if the world around you disappears for a brief moment when your eyes met, and you’re looking forward to spend the night with him. Every time he looks at you, everything feels more intense and it’s impossible to wipe the grin off your face.

The cool night air is palpable, and it’s the perfect moment to wrap yourself up a little more warmly. You decide to go inside to get your jacket. You’re almost at the entrance when you notice Spencer following you. Without a word, he pulls you into the small guest bathroom.

You squeak softly when he suddenly closes the door and look around to make sure no one had noticed you. "Spence," you whisper quickly, "we have to be careful." You can't help but laugh as you look at him. It's so typical of both of you - to simply forget everything else in that moment. Spencer leans down to you, his gaze deep and intense.

Without another word, he gives you a passionate kiss that blurs all your thoughts. When he pulls away, his lips still so close to your face, he whispers, "You look so beautiful tonight. I can't help it. You drive me crazy. I just can't get enough of you. Kissing you... is addictive."

His words make your heart race, and you feel the desire building within you. He gives you small, tender kisses on your cheeks, all over your face, and finally on your neck. You laugh softly and run your fingers through his hair, savoring the moment to the fullest. It feels so right, so intense and passionate, that you almost forget where you are. All that matters is him, his closeness, the warmth of his touch.

But after a few minutes, you have to pull away from him. You take a deep breath, your hands still lightly on his chest, and look into his eyes. "Spencer, we have to stop now," you say, your words a little firmer, even though your heart is screaming for you to stay a little longer. "Otherwise, it'll be noticed. Or... or we just tell the others. That will make things easier for us."

He looks at you thoughtfully, and you see that he's just as torn as you are at this moment. Finally, he nods. "You're right. They are going to find out soon anyway, we are too obvious." He leans forward, and with a gentle smile, he gives you one last kiss on the forehead.

"I love you so much. I think loving you will be the death of me," he says softly, and you feel your heart beat a little faster at his words. “I love you too.” For a moment, the world remains silent and you hold each other in your arms a little while longer.

When you let go and walk back outside, you could almost feel the others' eyes on you. It’s as if everyone stops at the same moment, looking over and wondering what’s going on between you two. You immediately notice Penelope and Derek smiling at each other before they start to giggle quietly.

You pause for a moment and look over to them, raising an eyebrow and trying to act like you have no idea why they are suddenly acting like this. "What's going on now?" you ask with a crooked grin when you see their amused faces.

The two can't help but laugh even more. "Nothing," Derek finally says but the joy in his eyes is unmistakable. Then he points at Spencer and laughs. "You forgot to clean off her lipstick. But don't worry, we knew there was something going on between you two from the start." You and Spencer look at each other, both blushing immediately.

All the tension that had been building up over the past few weeks erupts in that one moment, and you can't help but laugh. "We were actually going to tell you soon because we assumed we’re too obvious," you laugh, "but we weren't up for all the paperwork and sorting out work stuff yet. So we decided to keep it to ourselves." You shrug, as if this is all perfectly normal.

Emily shakes her head, a wide grin on her face. "Well, okay, you didn't really manage it," she says, then laughs. "It was obvious from the start." There's a moment of silence before everyone starts laughing at once. It's a mixture of relief and joy that the secret is finally out and no one has to do anything more than pretend.

You feel the tension melt away and take Spencer's hand, which somehow immediately feels right. You lean against him and suddenly feel much freer. Finally, you don't have to hide anymore. It's as if a huge weight has been lifted from your shoulders, and you can't help but take a deep breath.

Penelope squeals with joy and claps her hands. "This is so beautiful!" she exclaims, jumping excitedly around you both. "I knew it!" You spend the rest of the evening together, laughing, talking, and enjoying your time together. It's a carefree, joyful time together that fills you with happiness.

And when it's finally time to go home, you feel this inner satisfaction. The joy that you've not only found someone you love, but also that you finally don't have to hide anymore. "That was a lovely evening. I’m glad they know now," you say quietly to Spencer.

The smell of freshly ground coffee is in the air as you enter the café. You look at your watch. It’s 7:37 am. You're a little late for your first day at work. You already took more time than you wanted in the morning and then the bus didn’t arrive on time.

But you really need that coffee right now to wake you up. You quickly go to the counter and place your order. The barista is fast and you can get your coffee in just a few minutes.

You take the cup and turn around hastily, making your way to the door, when you suddenly bump into someone. “Oh!” you exclaim in shock as the hot coffee splashes out of the mug and drips a little onto the man in front of you. A very attractive man.

A small stain lands on his shirt and even more on the book he is holding. Your eyes widen as you survey the scene. “Oh no, I’m so sorry!” You apologize immediately. The man looks at you in surprise. The stain on his shirt doesn't seem to bother him much. "Uh... No problem," he says, he seems a bit reserved. “It happens…it’s okay.”

You look at the book, which has a few dark spots shining on it, and raise an eyebrow. “Oh no, I soiled your book too,” you say with a worried look. You hope he won't be too angry. You know that it would really bother you if one of your books was ruined. “I’m so sorry, that really wasn’t intentional!”

He looks at you, and even though he seems nervous, you can see a small smile forming. “It’s really no problem,” he says. “I uh… I have other copy’s at home. In several other languages.” You take a closer look at the book and then you notice. “Wait, is that Crime and Punishment?” you ask. “This is one of my favorite books!”

He looks at the cover in surprise and then nods. "Yes that's it. I… I like it too. I also have the Russian edition and… well, the English one, which is the most practical,” he says. “Me too!” you say and your heart skips a beat.

“I really wanted the original edition, even though I don't speak Russian well. I just love this book.” He becomes visibly more excited and you notice how he slowly starts to lose his shyness as he brings up more of the topic.

“Yes! It is so fascinating how Dostoyevsky portrays the moral conflicts of these characters. Especially Raskolnikov, he constantly wonders whether evil is justified for the greater good..." he starts to ramble. You enjoy listening to him and nod in agreement.

He becomes a little more open to you and it seems like a door opens in his head and suddenly you realize how much more he has to say about the book, how much deeper he can delve into the story and how much he actually knows. It’s fascinating.

But then you look at the clock. You really have to go, otherwise you’ll never make it to work on time. “Oh shit, I have to go, I… I’m sorry, but I’m already way too late for work!” you say breathlessly. “It was really nice talking to you! I hope we meet again sometime.”

He looks at you, the nervousness back in his eyes, but also a small smile that he can't quite hide. “No problem, really...” he says and then adds. “I… um… hope we meet again sometime too.” But you can't hear it because he says it way too quiet.

You're already halfway to the door, but you turn around again to wave him goodbye with a shy smile, trying to hide your stress about being late before you quickly go outside.

The stranger you just met stands there for a while and watches you while the quiet duct of coffee drifts in the air. He hopes he really get’s to see you again. Maybe you’ll be here tomorrow again to get coffee.

-

It's almost eight in the morning and you're sprinting down the hallway, your feet tapping on the linoleum as you open the door to the office. You were just in time but still too late to start your first day at the FBI with dignity.

The nervous energy bubbling within you isn’t just noticeable because of the near-lateness. You also feel like every step you take is being viewed under a microscope. “Phew… just in time,” you murmur, trying to normalize your breathing rate as you take off your coat.

The hallway is, as always, full of life. Agents in uniform, colleagues in conversation. But it was the look you were receiving that made you the most nervous. When you enter the room, your eyes immediately fall on Erin Strauss, who is already sitting at her desk in her office.

She exudes an aura of respect and authority and appears calm and focused. You know she could command the room with a single movement. Behind her stands Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief, a tall man with dark hair. You remember him from your job interview, he was there too.

“Ah, you’re actually almost there on time,” says Strauss with a slight smile that didn’t quite hide the coldness in her voice. “Sorry, I…” You take a deep breath, your voice still shaking a little bit. “Traffic was a nightmare today.”

“That’s understandable,” Strauss replies, her posture slightly stiff as she gives you a searching look. “But coming to the office on time should be part of your preparations. The FBI is all about punctuality and precision.”

"Of course. I’m sorry, I didn't mean to give the impression that I'm unreliable,” you say and to your relief Hotch nods briefly. “I hope you are ready to learn everything. The way here is not always easy,” he says.

You nod eagerly. You're glad he didn't say any more about your lateness. Instead, he gestures towards the door with a curt hand gesture, indicating that you have to leave the office. You walk down the hallway and get into the elevator with him.

“Today there is a lot to introduce you do. It's your first day and we want you to get started right away. I assume that’s in your best interest?” he asks you. “Yes, very much,” you answer immediately.

You want to prove yourself and want to take the opportunity to establish yourself in this area. The FBI is no place for mistakes. “Good,” Hotch says and the two of you step out of the elevator. He opens the door to the BAU. “Then get to know us better.”

You follow your unit chief, entering the BAU for the very first time. You know this is just the beginning. But if you get through the first day, the rest might get a little easier. Perhaps.

-

You sit in the chair in front of Hotch's desk, trying to memorize all the new information and everything you need to know to function here. You feel a certain excitement within you. Even though you're new here, it already feels like the right place.

Suddenly there is a knock on the door. Hotch looks up, nods at you as if it's a given that you're here, and then says, "Come in." The door opens and a woman enters, immediately catching your attention.

She has blonde hair and wears glasses. Her clothes are an absolute eye-catcher. Colorful and different patterns that reflect her creative, unconventional style from head to toe. She immediately comes across as likeable, as if she were the type of person who could fill the office with her energy and positivity.

“I just ran into Strauss. She got a call and wants to talk to you about it,” she says to Hotch. He just nods, as if he already thinks that she is keeping him up to date with something important. He turns to you and then says, “This is Penelope Garcia. She’s our technical analyst.”

Penelope smiles at you. “Ohh, it's so nice to meet you! We can always use female reinforcement!” she says with a beaming smile. Her positive energy is contagious and you immediately like her. “Thank you, I’m happy to be here too,” you reply, unable to hide your smile. She seems like someone who makes the office a place where you enjoy spending time.

Hotch stands up and looks at his watch. “I have to go to Strauss to clarify a few things. Garcia, can you introduce her to the others please?” he asks. “Of course! Oh, I'm sure they'll love you." Penelope says, grinning as she motions for you to follow her.

Before Hotch leaves the room, he turns around again. “Garcia is one of the best we have. Without her nothing would work here.” You nod as Hotch disappears. Now you're alone with Penelope. “Come with me, I’ll introduce you,” she says.

You follow her, excited to see who else is working on this team and at the same time curious about what the dynamic might be like here. Penelope is certainly an interesting acquaintance, but you are also curious to see what the others have to offer.

-

You follow Penelope down the stairs, the sounds of footsteps echoing in the large, open building. Your eyes widen when you see David Rossi, you devoured all of his books. His analyzes and case studies were always an inspiration for you. He stands with his arms crossed and talks to two other women.

Penelope heads straight towards them and you stay close behind her. The woman with blonde hair smiles at you briefly before turning back to Rossi. The other one, with the brown hair, nods at you just as friendly.

“Good morning! I hope you all had a great weekend,” Penelope says with so much energy that you immediately have to smile again. “I have to introduce someone to you, our new team member!” Everyone turns to you and you feel your heart skip a beat.

You try to stay calm even though you're bubbling with excitement inside. You turn to Rossi because he is the first to extend his hand to you. “David Rossi,” he says and smiles. It feels surreal to actually talk to him. You get lost in the conversation, Emily and JJ joining in. You immediately like them. In the background you hear Penelope talking.

“Where are my Chocolate Thunder and Boy Wonder? They’re never this late.” Emily, who is standing next to Rossi points to the door. “They’re coming.” You notice two more people join the small group. You turn to the side to introduce yourself to them too but suddenly stop as your eyes fall on the man you ran into at the cafe this morning.

“Hey! You’ve got to be kidding me, you work here too?” you ask and laugh. You are surprised to see him here again of all places. He looks at you with wide eyes and promptly turns red in the face.

"Uh... hi. Yes, I work here," he says, and you see him nervously fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt. His colleague, who is standing right next to him, looks at you with a smile and raises an eyebrow. “This will be exciting,” he murmurs with a grin as he watches you and your incredulous look.

You feel your cheeks getting a little warmer, but the smile still remains on your face. It feels almost too crazy, but somehow also right. “I'm Derek Morgan. Nice to meet you. You two seem to already know each other,” he says, gesturing between you and Spencer. A mischievous grin plays on his lips, and you can hear the humor in his voice.

You smile back and nod as you explain, “Yeah, unfortunately I spilled half my coffee on him this morning. I was in a hurry and really stressed.” You turn back to Spencer. “Sorry again,” you say. Spencer smiles shyly at you.

"No problem. I... I'm Spencer by the way. We had... I mean, there was no time earlier... you left before I could introduce myself…" he stops when he realises he is stuttering. You smile at his nervous, almost awkward manner and immediately feel that tingling sensation in your stomach again, which you noticed before.

That's not good, he's now your colleague and you definitely can't fall in love with him. You tell him your name too and the others in the room, especially Derek, seem to be watching the scene with a grin. It's almost as if they all know that something is happening between you here.

“Spencer, maybe you should keep your distance when she walks around with coffee in the future,” Derek says with a wink and Spencer blushes. Meanwhile, you feel the gazes of others in the room observing the situation. Penelope, who follows the situation with a smile, and Emily, who stands quietly by, holding back a comment, but is clearly amused.

"Okay, well... I think we're all officially introduced now," Emily finally says, breaking the small pause. “I hope you've settled in a bit by now, we don't have a case right now, but we still have a lot to do. But don’t worry, you’ll get into the rhythm quickly.”

-

JJ takes you with her to complete the last paperwork they need for your final hiring. When you leave the office, Spencer stays behind with the others. You've just closed the door behind you and Morgan is already grinning in Spencer’s direction.

“Ohhh, pretty boy has a girlfriend now. I'm proud of you, man. But no kissing in the office please,” he teases. Spencer immediately blushes. “Shut up, she’s… she’s not my girlfriend,” he stammers, trying to defuse the situation.

Garcia, standing next to Morgan almost jumps with excitement. “Oh my god, Spencer. You really have to ask her out! She's amazing! You would look so cute together!” Emily, who is watching the whole thing with an amused grin, can no longer suppress her laughter. “Oh, this is too good.“

Spencer tries to hide in his chair. “You are impossible. She's not my girlfriend! Stop talking like that.” Garcia raises her eyebrows, her expression completely innocent. “Oh come on, Spencer. I saw the way you looked at her. You like her. You don’t have to hide it!”

As as she said that, the door to the hallway opens. Hotch comes back and the rest of the team immediately realizes that they should start to focus on their work again. The conversation about Spencer and his alleged coffee dates immediately dies down.

Morgan and Garcia give each other one last meaningful look before returning to their work. Hotch immediately notices that there is something in the air. “Everything alright? What did you just do?” Hotch asks as he briefly looks around.

“Nothing, Hotch. Just a bit of... team building,” Morgan replies with a cheeky smile. Hotch nods and goes to his desk while Gracia takes another look at Spencer and smiles. “We saw you, Pretty Boy,” she whispers to him. Spencer sighs deeply and tries to immerse himself in the paperwork as best he can, while his mind keeps returning to you.

-

Your first day went by quickly, no case came in and you had spent the whole day looking through the files with JJ and seeing everything the BAU had to offer. She took the time to explain everything to you in detail and it was extremely helpful.

Nevertheless, at the end of the day you are completely exhausted, but also satisfied. The team welcomed you warmly and you could well imagine working here long-term. You grab your bag and are about to leave when you notice Spencer out of the corner of your eye.

He is shoving his coffee-covered book into his bag and you immediately feel guilty again. You hadn't done it on purpose, but the book is still marked by the coffee stains. With a deep breath you gather all your courage, grab your bag and walk towards him.

“Hey, I wanted to apologize again for what happened this morning,” you start as you stop in front of him. “I’m just really sorry about your book. Can I... can I maybe invite you for coffee tomorrow morning? As an apology?”

Spencer looks surprised and seems to take a moment to answer. You can see him as he glances nervously at Morgan, who's grinning from the corner of the room. “Oh, uh… no problem,” Spencer finally stutters, quickly reaching for his bag. Morgan raises an eyebrow, grinning. “Yeah, sure… I uh… think it would be nice if you did that. But you don't have to, I—"

You interrupt him with a smile. “But I would like to. So, shall we meet there tomorrow then? At the same time? This time without a crash?” you ask and grin slightly. “Yes, I… I’d like that,” Spencer replies with a shy nod before saying goodbye to you.

You turn around to the others, saying goodbye to them too and then make your way out. Morgan and Spencer leave a few minutes later. In the elevator, Morgan nudges Spencer with a mischievous grin. “So, a date now, Pretty Boy?” Morgan laughs, glancing at Spencer, who immediately blushes.

The sound of rain pounding against the windows is the only thing that fills the room in the abandoned warehouse. You stand at a large table with a map of the building spread out on it. The UnSub barricaded himself in one of the back rooms of the building.

"It's a trap," you say, your voice determined, almost tense. "We know he’s just trying to lure us into it, to lure Spencer in." Spencer shot the UnSubs partner in self-defense during the previous confrontation with them. Unfortunately, the situation has gotten even further out of control and now he wants revenge.

Spencer, still studying the map on the table, looks up and raises an eyebrow. "We have no choice. If we keep waiting, he might strike again. If we let him take control, he'll hurt more people. I'm going to face him.”

You shake your head and step closer. "You can't just go in! There's no guarantee you'll get out alive!" Spencer looks up to you and smiles, but there is no joy in his smile. "Someone has to do it. You know that otherwise the situation will escalate further.”

You look at him in disbelief. "This is crazy! You are his target! You won't be able to do it alone! Please... Please don't do this!" The rest of the team exchanges a look, sensing the tension between the two of you.

Rossi clears his throat and steps forward. "We know it's risky, but we all believe Spencer is the only one who can do this. We need to get the situation under control now, he has to go back in," he says. "What? No!" You turn to Rossi, your eyes wide. "He could die!"

Spencer stands up and takes a step closer to you. "I understand that you are worried. But you know that I don't make this decision lightly. We have a plan,” he says, trying to calm you down. "You... you can't do this. You can’t put yourself in danger out there when I can't even prevent it," you say worriedly. "It's not about me. It's about preventing more people from getting hurt in the future," Spencer says.

The team standing nearby starts to gather. Hotch sees you starting to panic and steps in. "Listen. We all know what's at stake. But Spencer is right. If anyone can take the risk, it's him. We have to trust him. We'll do everything we can to support him," Hotch says in a serious voice, "but there's no other way. We have to act before he hurts more people."

You're close to going crazy now. Spencer notices and walks towards you, pausing for a moment. "You know I can't just stand by and watch this man continue to destroy. I have to do this, not just for myself, but for everyone. And I can only do it if you trust me,” he says.

You look at him, your eyes full of pain and fear. "I trust you, but I don't trust them. If you're out there in danger...I can't do this. I can't just stand by and watch you..." you start again but Hotch interrupts you. “He has to go. Now," he says with a firm look. "You have to trust us. He knows what he's doing. But you are not able to help the team and him if you are in this state."

Spencer gives you one more look before he walks towards the warehouse and you can no longer hold back. You try to follow him but Derek and Emily hold you back. You try to pull yourself away from their grip, your anger and desperation growing stronger. "Let me go! He can't get in there alone! Spencer, don't do that!" You try unsuccessfully to break free from their grip to stop him.

But he leaves without responding to your desperate calls. Derek and Emily continue to hold you back while you sink into complete panic. "Spencer, please... please come back!" Your heart skips a beat as you see him disappear into the darkness. “I can't lose him…” you mutter as you are held tightly in the arms of the other team members who try to calm you down.

-

The minutes drag on like hours. You stand near the door, your eyes constantly focused on the spot where Spencer just disappeared. You try to stay calm, but time seems to drag on forever.

Your heart beats faster, and you can feel the thumping beats in your throat. The silence in the room is oppressive, except for the occasional rustle of the radios and the sound of the rain hitting the window.

Every moment you stand here waiting feels like it stretches on forever. Why did he put himself in such danger? You try to organize your thoughts, but they are racing. He has to come back. He can't just disappear or worse, die. Why have you never told him how much he means to you?

The thoughts keep coming back into your head, even though you try to push them away. You've often made up your mind to confess your feelings to him. But you kept holding back, afraid that it would destroy the friendship between you.

But now, not knowing if you'll ever see him again, you suddenly realize how much he means to you. What if he doesn't come back? What if you lose him and never had the chance to tell him how you feel about him?

You shake your head, trying to suppress the panic. But it won't go away. You bite your lip, feeling the tears burning in your eyes. Why couldn't you just be honest with him? A sudden gunshot breaks the silence, then another. Your hand flies to your mouth and your heart skips a beat. Panic shoots through your body. What happened? Is he in danger?

"Those are gunshots!" someone on the team shouts, and you immediately jump into action. Your body moves almost automatically, you run down the corridor, feet stamping on the floor, blood rushing in your ears. You reach the room where Spencer was with the UnSub. The sight that greets you makes the ground fall from under your feet.

Spencer is lying motionless on the floor, blood is everywhere. Your eyes widen and for a moment your breath catches. Your legs are paralyzed, but then you jump forward, stumble over and bend over him. "Spence!" Your voice is shaky as you lift him, but he is heavy, much heavier than you expected. "What happened?"

"It's... it's all…," he murmurs weakly, but you barely hear what he says. A faint smile crosses his face, but you immediately see how painful it is for him. "I'm still here,” he says. “You're bleeding!" Your voice almost breaks when you see his wound.

The panic you've suppressed for so long now breaks through with full force. You press your hand to his side, trying to stop the blood, but it keeps flowing. "Why did you go in? You shouldn't have just walked into the trap like that!"

"I wanted to end it," he says, and the smile on his face only gets weaker. "For us." You hear his words, but they barely reach you. You only feel the cold spreading through your body, the panic that is getting stronger and stronger. "Spence, please stay with me. You have to stay with me!"

"It's going to be okay," he whispers in a voice that's barely more than a breath. You press your hand tighter against his wound, your eyes filling with tears. Your mind is spinning and you're trying to hold it all together. You're desperate, but you can't find the words to express what you're feeling right now.

"Spence, you have to hold on. I need you! Please..." Your voice trembles. You want to tell him what you feel, but you can't. It just feels too late, and you're too afraid of hurting him further. "We need a medic immediately!" you call out to the others. "He's bleeding too much, he needs help, quickly!"

Spencer nods weakly, but you see that he's getting weaker and weaker. The panic rises inside you, and you feel your breath take away. "Spence, please... you have to stay with me."

The others just got the UnSub under control and are taking care of him. But you can't concentrate on anything else but Spencer. Your thoughts are only with him, with the blood spreading beneath him, with the fear that you might lose him.

"Medic, now!" Derek calls, and a little later you hear the roar of the ambulance pulling up. You stay by Spencer's side, your hand in his, begging him with every breath. "Please, stay with me. I need you, I need you here."

When the paramedics finally arrive, you are pushed away from his side. You see them carefully place him on a stretcher, but you can't stop yourself from following. Spencer is rushed to the hospital, and you know he needs surgery quickly.

As you stay behind, alone with the fear and hope that he will make it, your thoughts continue to revolve around the words you never said to him. What if it's too late?

-

You sit on one of the hard plastic chairs in the hospital corridor, the walls around you appear grey and oppressive, and time drags. Your hands are still shaking slightly as you nervously run your fingers along the armrest of the chair.

The hospital corridor is full of life, but you can hardly notice anything, you are so caught up in your own thoughts. The operation that Spencer is currently having is all you can think about. You try to stay calm, but the waiting is driving you crazy.

You keep getting up from your chair and walking a few steps back and forth, then you sit down again. Every thought of Spencer, of the blood you saw, of the wounds he suffered, only makes your nerves tense up more. What if he doesn't survive? What if he never goes back to being the same?

Suddenly the hallway is quiet again as everyone slowly moves back to give you some space. You can't take it anymore. You have to go outside, have to step out into the cold evening for a moment to clear your head. You go to the door and push it open, the cool air immediately hits your heated skin.

You close your eyes for a moment, take a deep breath and try to calm yourself down. “Hey." You turn around, startled. Derek is standing behind you. You try to give him a smile, but it feels forced and wrong. "What are you doing here?" you ask quietly, not really knowing what to say.

"I knew you were out here," he says with a look that is both worried and reassuring. "Don’t worry too much, please. Spencer will make it. He's a fighter." You try to memorize his words, but the doubt remains.

What if he doesn't make it? "I know, but..." you begin, but you can't finish the sentence. Derek looks at you in silence for a while, then sighs and leans against the wall. "Do you want to wait any longer or...?"

You pretend not to understand what he means and look away. "What do you mean?" He snorts briefly, then takes a step closer. "Oh come on, don't act like it's not obvious, we all noticed. You and pretty boy, you're both head over heels in love." You feel your heart skip a beat. Your eyes widen and you try to swallow the lump in your throat.

You turn away, looking at the ground because you just don't know how to react. "I... don't know what you mean," you mutter, even though you know there's no excuse left. "Come on. You don't have to hide this from us anymore. We've all seen how you treat each other."

You know there is no point in denying it. Derek knows you and Spencer too well. You blink, and suddenly tears run down your cheeks. “But what if he doesn’t make it now? What if I lose him and never get to tell him how I feel? What if he never finds out?"

Your voice almost breaks as the words burst out. You've never really talked about it, never found the right moments. And now that it's almost too late, you're painfully aware that you may never get the chance.

Derek sighs and puts a hand on your shoulder to give you a moment of calm. "He'll make it, you'll see. And when he comes back, he'll know how much you love him, even without words. You're simply meant for each other."

You take a deep breath, trying to internalize his words, even if you can't quite believe them yet. But you nod, grateful that he's there, giving you this moment of peace. You snort slightly, trying to hold back the tears.

"Thank you, Derek," you whisper, and then, after a moment, you turn back towards the infirmary. You're not sure if you're really ready to accept the truth, but for now it's enough that Spencer is still alive.

You enter the hallway again, and as you pass one of the doctors, you see him coming towards you with a serious but also relieved look. Your heart beats faster. "He got through the operation well," the doctor says in a reassuring voice. "He'll have to stay here for a few more days for observation, but everything looks good."

"Can I see him?" you ask immediately, your voice shaking a little. You can hardly believe that he made it, that he is still alive. "Yes, of course," the doctor says and nods. "He's sleeping now, but if you want you can stay with him."

Your heart skips a beat. He's alive. You feel a wave of relief wash over you, but at the same time you feel like you need the moment alone. You want to be with him, to be there for him. You walk to his room as fast as you can, Derek stays behind you and follows you.

As you sit by his bed, holding his hand in yours and whispering something quietly to him, you know you can't give up. You will wait until he wakes up. You will be there. It's the only moment you can have with him, and you won't waste it. The hours drag on, and you stay by his side all night, waiting for him to finally open his eyes.

-

It is early in the morning and the sky outside is with grey. There is a strange silence, only interrupted by the quiet sounds of the machines and the quiet hum of the ventilation system. You sit by Spencer's bed, your hand still firmly in his.

The hours of the night have passed, but you have not taken your hand off him for a moment. You are exhausted, but the feeling of fear and relief worsens into a constant trembling inside you. You have been asking yourself over and over for the last few hours how you would react when he wakes up. And now the time has come.

Suddenly you hear a quiet rustling. A barely audible but noticeable sound. Your eyes are fixed on his face as he slowly opens his eyes. It takes a moment for him to really grasp that he is no longer in danger. You see him slowly looking at you. The look in his eyes is confused at first, then clearer.

Then he says your name. His voice is rough and quiet. You are so glad he is still here, that he has held on. "Yes, Spence... I am here. You are in the hospital," you whisper and carefully sit down on the chair next to him. Your hands shake as you hold his hand even tighter.

"What happened?" he asks, his voice still weak, but he seems to be gradually clearing up. "You were shot. Badly. But the doctors operated on you and you made it through," you say, trying to sound calm, but your voice is shaking. "You're really lucky, Spence. You made it."

He closes his eyes for a moment, as if he's thinking everything through again, and then he opens them again. You can see that he's trying to understand your words. But then, when his gaze returns to you, he looks worried. "How are you? You've been crying, I can see it. You're fine, right?"

You can feel the warmth in his voice. You hold his hand even tighter, as if you were holding on to him, as if he could hold you in that moment. You swallow hard and can't help but hold back the tears. "Yes..." you whisper. "Yes, Spence. I... I was so scared. That you wouldn't make it. That I would lose you without telling you what you really mean to me."

He looks at you, and although he is still weak, his eyes seem to narrow as he examines you. "You have to stop worrying so much. I'm okay. I'm fine, really. You don't need to torture yourself like this."

But you can't. You just can't stop. It feels like all your fears and hours of uncertainty are crashing down inside you in this moment. You have to tell him everything, you can't wait any longer.

"No," you say firmly, letting all your insecurity and fear flow into your words. "I can't, Spence. I can never stop worrying about you. You mean too much to me. You... you are everything to me."

It's almost as if the world around you stands still for a moment. You can feel his hand in yours, but the moment is so charged that you can almost feel the air. You look into his eyes, and something changes inside you. You can't wait any longer. Not anymore.

"I love you," you whisper, and the words come so easily and yet so heavily over your lips. You feel your heart beating faster as you finally say it. "I love you, and I could never have forgiven myself if... if you had died yesterday without knowing how I really feel."

The tears run down your cheeks, but this time they are different. It is no longer fear, no longer despair, but a relief that you have never felt before. You have finally told him your feelings, and even though you have not dared to for so long, it feels right now.

Spencer stares at you for a moment, as if he's still trying to understand what you've said. Then he gently pulls you towards him. With a slow movement, he squeezes your hand and then murmurs softly, almost tenderly. "You don't have to worry. I… I love you too."

It's like a light goes on inside you. You can hardly believe that he feels it too, that he loves you as much as you love him. In that moment, you finally feel complete, like everything makes sense. You smile through the tears, your hands still tightly in his.

"Really?" you whisper, as if you're still looking for confirmation, even though you see the answer in his eyes. "Yes, really," he says with a weak but sincere smile that warms your heart.

There is silence between you for a moment. You feel yourself relax a little as the words resonate inside you, as you are finally in the arms of someone who loves you just as much. "You know," Spencer says after a pause, looking at you, "the first thing we're doing when I get out of here is going on a date."

You can't help but laugh, even though it still sounds a little shaky. "A date?" you ask, shaking your head, even though you know he's serious. "Yes," he says with a small smile on his lips even despite his tiredness. "We should have done that a long time ago. But it looks like we were both idiots, so when I get out of here, I’ll take you out. Just you and me."

You’re laying on Spencer's chest, snuggled up in a blanket that keeps both of you warm. It’s already dark outside and the TV is on, you decided to rewatch Star Trek again. It's a cozy evening, the moment feels calm, and you are happy about the normality of everyday life after a stressful week at work.

Hotch has given everyone a couple of days off to relax properly after a particularly difficult case. You are looking forward to spend them at home with Spencer and not in some hotel while you have to worry about another serial killer. You really love your job, but sometimes it still sucks.

Despite the relaxed atmosphere, you still feel this restlessness within you. You've had this strange feeling in your stomach all day long, and even though it subsides every now and then, it doesn't completely leave you. You wonder if you have a problem with some food you ate today but you can't remember eating something your stomach doesn’t tolerate well.

The ache becomes stronger again and your face contorts. Spencer immediately notices that something is wrong with you. “Are you okay?” he asks, looking down at you worriedly. You're about to tell him it's just a stomach ache, but suddenly you realize you're really feeling sick. Your stomach tightens and you feel the room spinning around you.

Before you can say anything, you jump up, throw the blanket aside and run to the bathroom. You lean over the toilet just in time. It all happens so quickly, the nausea overwhelms you and you throw up. The waves of nausea wash over you again and again, you really hate that feeling. But you know afterwards there is at least some sort of relief.

“What’s going on?” you hear Spencer’s voice behind you, a little panicked. He comes over to you and looks at you worriedly. “Shhh, stay calm. Take a deep breath in and out, okay?” His hand gently touches your back as he kneels next to you and pushes your hair out of your face. You feel his closeness, how he accompanies you with a tender calm and you can relax a little more. You are not alone, he is with you.

You hold on to the toilet with one hand and lean on to him with the other. He carefully takes you in his arms and holds you tight. “I’m here with you, things will get better soon,“ he says as he strokes your hair gently. The nausea slowly fades, but you are exhausted and sink into his arms. “I’m sorry,” you whisper as you rest your forehead against his shoulder.

“No need to apologize,” he says. “Don’t worry. Tonight we're just going to take care of you, okay? No stress, no obligations. I am here." You close your eyes, feel the warmth of his embrace and let the world around you disappear for a moment. Everything feels just a little bit better in his arms. It always does.

Spencer watches you worriedly as you sink into his arms. “Would you like me to get you something? Water? Tea? Medication?” You open your mouth to answer him, but then you stop. A strange feeling spreads through you, a sudden, cold feeling that you just can't place. Spencer looks at you, raising an eyebrow, immediately realizing something is off.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice gentle but concerned. Thoughts race through your head. And then, all of a sudden, you realize something - something that maybe you didn't even really want to acknowledge until now. Your heart beats faster, your throat feels dry. “Spence, I… I think I’m overdue,” you stammer, your voice sounding uncertain, almost like a whisper.

You suddenly feel very pale and panic sets in. You don't want to say it, but it's there, like a heavy weight in the air. Spencer is quiet, but he immediately understands what you mean. “The last time you had your period was when we flew to New York, right?” He looks at you as he does the math. "That means you're... four days overdue."

The sentence hits you like a blow, and suddenly the whole weight of the possibility that you didn't want to admit to yourself for so long comes over you. What if it's true? What if that means you're really pregnant? Your thoughts are racing and you feel the panic rising within you. How does he feel about this?

Spencer notices your change in behaviour. Without hesitation, he takes your hands in his, pulling you a little closer to him. “Hey, hey, take it easy please,” he says, his voice soothing, almost gentle. “Take a deep breath first, okay? We don’t know anything for sure yet.” You close your eyes and try to organize your thoughts, but the uncertainty remains.

Spencer squeezes your hands tighter, as if to tell you that you’re not alone. “It could be anything, we just have to wait and see. Don't panic, we'll buy a pregnancy test tomorrow, okay? And then we’ll know more.” He speaks with a calmness that you barely feel in yourself at the moment, but being this close to him helps. He’s making sure you know that he's just going to hold you in this moment, in this situation, no matter what.

But even if his words are reassuring, there remains this uncertainty that hangs over your thoughts like a shadow. “I know you’re thinking a lot right now,” he continues. “But I’m here, we’re doing this together.” He looks at you like he wants to make sure you hear him, that you trust him. You nod weakly, trying to let go of the panic and focus on his calm breathing.

“It’s also normal for your period to come later sometimes. Stress can affect your hormonal balance and disrupt your cycle. When the body is under pressure, this can cause periods to start later because the body has different priorities in stressful situations. Traveling, changing time zones or even changes in sleep patterns can also disrupt the body's natural rhythm and lead to a delay in your period. You've had a lot of both in the last few weeks, so that could be the reason,“ he adds.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. Spencer's words are like a little support that brings you back down to earth. You are so grateful to have him by your side. There are no answers yet, just uncertainty and a lot of questions, but you are not alone in this moment. And that feels at least a little bit better.

You feel how your thoughts continue to revolve around the topic. You imagine thousands of possible scenarios. “And what if I’m really pregnant?” you ask hesitantly, letting the thought hang in the silence between you. “What if we have a baby now, Spence?” The question feels heavy, almost too big for this moment.

You look at him, realizing that in this moment you not only feel the uncertainty about your body, but also the burden of responsibility that suddenly lies on both of you. The two of you haven't really talked about what things will look like for you in the future and whether you want to have kids.

“No matter what, I'll stay with you. I want you to know that,“ he says and wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling your closer against him. “The first thing we're going to do tomorrow is get a pregnancy test. If it’s positive, you can still think about what you want to do. Don’t worry about it too much now. We don't know anything for sure yet.”

“Thank you, Spence,” you finally whisper, your voice a little calmer even as the thoughts continue to swirl inside you. Suddenly there’s a moment of silence between you. You slowly turn to him and look up into his eyes. “Do you want to have kids?” The question comes quietly, almost a little unsure, as if you were looking for the answer within yourself as much as you were looking for his.

Spencer smiles at you, and it's a warm, genuine smile. “Yes, I want to have kids,” he says, and you can see that he’s really speaking from his heart. “I want us to have kids, I want us to start our own family.” A smile spreads across your face as he continues. “From the first moment I saw you, I knew I was in love with you. I imagined what it would be like to build a life with you - a house, getting married, having kids, growing old together. I want everything with you.”

You feel tears welling up in your eyes as he continues. “And if you are pregnant, please remember, I will always stay by your side, no matter what.” It's like the bond between you two is tightening even more and suddenly it breaks out of you. The tears stream down your cheeks and you throw yourself into his arms, pressing against him as if you never want to let go again.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “I want that too, Spencer.” He holds you close, his hand rubbing soothingly over your back, and you safer in his arms. He places a gentle kiss on your head as he continues to stroke your hair. “Let’s go get you to bed now,” he says. “Tomorrow we’ll get you a pregnancy test and then you can think about what happens next. Do you want me to make you some tea?”

You nod weakly and whisper, “Yes, please.” You expect him to just go into the kitchen but to your surprise he picks you up. “Spence, you don’t have to do this,” you say, laughing as he gently carries you in his arms. You wrap your hands around his neck and run your fingers through his soft, brown curls. “But I want to,” he says with a grin as he goes to your bedroom and lays you down gently on the bed.

Then he goes into the kitchen to make your tea. When he returns, he sits down on the bed with a cup in his hand, and you accept it gratefully. “Thank you,” you say, your eyes meeting his, and you feel incredibly comfortable just being here with him. You snuggle up to him, the warmth of his body making you feel safe and secure. In that moment, it feels like you can do anything as long as you're together.

The rest may be uncertain tonight, but know that you are not alone. “Goodnight,” Spencer says quietly and leans down to kiss your forehead. You close your eyes, the calming feeling of his closeness envelops you, and for a moment you let everything go. Tomorrow will be a new day, but tonight you can just rest in his arms, safe in the knowledge that no matter what, everything will be okay.

-

When you slowly open your eyes the next morning, you can still feel the warmth of Spencer lying next to you. His arm is around you and your legs are intertwined. A smile spreads across your face. It's such a simple moment, but it's full of love and security. You feel incredibly lucky to have him by your side, especially after all the uncertainty of last night.

But as you lie in his arms, you still feel the tightening in your stomach. It’s the same pain that accompanied you all day yesterday. But then you notice something else, something that confuses you. A light, damp feeling in your underwear. You furrow your eyebrows and carefully pull away from Spencer's embrace so you don’t wake him up.

You slowly walk to the bathroom to go to the toilet and when you look, your eyes widen. You've got your period this night. You breathe out deeply and feel a hint of disappointment run through your body. You sit back and stare at the floor. In the last few hours, after the conversation with Spencer and all the thoughts, you felt so safe. And now it's just... not like that.

You got your period, but not the life you imagined since last night. A quiet, almost imperceptible sigh escapes you. It‘s is simply over before it even really begins. Suddenly the thought of having a baby doesn't seem so strange anymore. There is a slight pain in your chest, you're not pregnant. Maybe you wanted it, more than you thought.

When you come back into the bedroom, Spencer is just sitting up sleepily, his eyes still half closed. “Are you okay?” he asks in a soft, concerned voice. You snuggle back to him. “Yes. No. I… I don’t know,” you say quietly, “I got my period, Spence. I’m not pregnant,” you say.

“Then it was because of all the stress in the last few weeks that you got it later this time…,” he says and pauses for a moment. “Are you… are you feeling okay? You sound kind of sad,” he slowly adds and runs his fingers over your hand. He knows how much you like this gesture, you told him it feels somehow soothing to you.

You stay silent for a moment. "I... it's just like that earlier, when I noticed that I wasn't pregnant after all... it felt kind of strange. Like something was missing. I prepared for it after last night and now that I know that we're not expecting a baby, it… it makes me kind of sad,” you tell him and take his hand to intertwine your fingers.

“Do you feel ready for this? For a baby?” His voice is calm, but you see him trying to grasp your uncertainty. He's searching for an answer, just like you. It feels like you're both in uncharted territory. You hesitate for a moment, the room becomes quieter, and then you speak slowly, almost carefully.

“Yes, I do. Yesterday I was so overwhelmed because it was so unexpected and we never really talked about it before. But now that I know I'm not pregnant it makes me sad. I've imagined what it would be like to have baby with you, Spence. And I realized that I really want that,” you say and shift closer to him.

Spencer smiles at you. "I would also like to have a baby with you. I had to think about it last night too. I would be ready to finally start my own family, with you by my side. That would be my biggest dream come true. If you want we can start trying,” he says as he holds in his arms.

The warmth of his body like a little refuge in this moment and you close your eyes. “Yes Spence, I would like that,” you say and give him a kiss before you continue. “I’m really the luckiest woman in the world. I can’t believe you’re my mine,” you whisper, almost in awe as you wrap his arm even tighter around you. “You’re just perfect.”

Spencer laughs. “I’m far from perfect,” he says with a smile, but you can tell he takes it with humor. You look at him, your eyes widening as you give him a soft kiss on the cheek and reply. "You're perfect in my eyes." He looks at you, a smile spreading across his face as he pulls you closer.

You're standing in the kitchen, the smell of freshly baked cookies hits your nose. You decided to bake some cookies before Spencer is coming over for your weekly movie night. Baking also distracts you from the thoughts that have been consuming you more and more in the last few weeks.

You've always liked Spencer, but in the last few weeks, after he got out of prison, you've been spending even more time together. He needed a distraction and when he finally was ready for it, he also talked to you about what had happened to him.

It broke your heart when he told you what he had to go through. You're glad the team managed to get him out of there. You don't even want to think about how bad it would have been if he had to stay any longer.

You take a look at the clock, Spencer will be here soon. You can't wait, the nervousness tingles in your stomach like usual when you think about him. With a light sigh you put away the last ingredients, while your eyes keep wandering to the calendar on the wall.

You can't say exactly when they started. These... dreams. At first they were just fleeting thoughts that distracted you from the stressful everyday life, but now they are much more than that.

They are firmly imprinted in your mind, as if they are another reality taking up more and more space in your life. You shake your head, trying to compose yourself, but it doesn't work. The desire for these dreams to finally become reality gets stronger everyday, especially when you spend time with him.

You go to your room and open the diary that is still lying on your bed after your last entry this morning. A shiver runs down your spine as you read the words and the memories of your last dream come flooding back.

But the familiar ringing of the door bell snaps you out of your thoughts. Spencer is here. You quickly close the diary and shove it back under your small cupboard in your room where no one can find it.

You open the door and your heart immediately beats faster when you see him. With his messy curls falling over his face and that cute smile he never fails to blow you away. Your breath hitches for a moment as he looks at you.

“Hey, how are you?” he asks as he takes a step towards you and holds out a small bag of gummy bears. “I brought you your favorite gummy bears. They were almost sold out, but I still managed to get a package.” You can’t help but fall into his arms.

“Thank you,” you say, holding him for a moment longer than necessary. It feels so good to feel him close, to breathe in that familiar scent of him. Your heart is pounding loudly in your chest. But then he breaks the moment.

“Did you bake something? I think I can smell cookies,” Spencer says and your eyes widen in shock. "Oh no! My cookies!” you shout, practically jumping out of his arms and storming into the kitchen.

You turn off the oven, take the cookies out and carefully place them on the tray to let them cool off. Spencer follows you, still grinning as he watches you. “Just in time,” you say as you run your hand through your hair. “A moment longer and they would have burned.”

“It's good that I'm not only a genius, but also have a good nose,” he jokes. “Or you’re just hungry,” you answer with a grin as you put the cookies aside. “That too. And you know they are my favorite cookies. I can't just let them burn,” he says and you laugh.

“But they have to cool down before you can eat them. If you want we can already start to watch a movie now,” you say and go over to the living room with him, grabbing a few pillows and blankets to make it even more comfortable on the couch.

"So," Spencer says as he sits down next to you and adjusts the pillows, "what movie are we watching first?" You think about it for a while, deciding whether you want to watch something romantic, funny or classic. Finally, your choice falls on Back to the Future. A movie that you both love.

When you want to turn on the television, you suddenly notice that the remote control is no longer working. “Oh no, the batteries are dead,” you mumble and take them out. “Where do you keep the new ones?” Spencer asks, leaning back and watching you. “I can go and get them while you get us something to drink.”

You nod. “They are in the bottom drawer in the small cupboard across my bed,” you tell him. “All right,” Spencer says, getting up and going to your room to get them. While he's in your bedroom, you take a moment to gather your thoughts. If only you knew what he really thinks about you...

Spencer goes into your room to get the batteries. But when he tries to open the bottom drawer like you told him, it gets stuck, which surprises him. He leans down to look what’s causing it, maybe he can fix it for you. But then he notices that there is a book lying under the cupboard.

Curious, he pulls it out and examines it for a moment. He flips through the pages, slowly, as if he can't help himself. His eyes widen when he realizes it's full of entries - entries about the two of you together specifically. It’s your diary. Full of your thoughts about him.

And not just your thoughts. You also wrote down the dreams you had about him, the wishes and desires you couldn't keep to yourself anymore. Your feelings that you never expressed. Spencer continues reading, and with each word it seems as if the world stops.

You, on the other hand, are now wondering where he is. Why doesn't he come back? You go to your room and open the door. “Spence, did you find them or should I help -” You pause, your eyes immediately falling on the book in his hand and your heart beats faster. You blush as you realize what he just discovered.

He looks at you and a grin spreads across his face. “I found a really interesting book under your cupboard. Why did you hide it from me? I would’ve love to read it sooner,” he says as he takes a step towards you. You feel like the ground is threatening to fall away from under your feet. Your pulse is pounding in your ears and you try to stay calm. “Spence…” you whisper, but you can’t say anything more. You're way too nervous.

He looks at you for another second, as if he's getting lost in your reaction, before holding the diary out to you, grinning ever wider. “You probably not only dream about me every night, but also write everything down so you can think about it again and again, right?”

You feel the blood rush to your head and you almost feel dizzy with embarrassment. "I... uh..." you stammer, "It's not what you think..." Spencer laughs. “No?” he asks as he flips the diary over to the page on which you wrote down your last dream about him.

“Well, I think it's kind of cute that you're so lost in your dreams. But you know what?” You look at him uncertainly as he slowly takes a step closer, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Now that I know about them, I can make them all come true,” he says quietly. For a moment his eyes are so intense you feel like you could sink into them.

Your mind is racing and you can't believe what he just said. Then he suddenly pushes you against the wall and kisses you. The kiss is not gentle, it’s full of desire and hunger. His tongue pushes between your lips, tasting you. You can feel the heat rushing through your body, pressing your thighs together.

He pulls away, leaving you breathless and craving more. “I’m going to leave you now. When I come back, I want to see you laying on the bed naked, with your legs spread apart. You’re not allowed to touch yourself. Do you understand?” he asks, his voice firm and eyes full of lust.

You nod and a shiver runs down your spine. “Yes, I… I understand,” you breathe out. He smirks before he grabs your diary and turns around to leave the room. You heart is pounding in your chest and you're shivering in excitement. You do as your told and take off your clothes to lay down on the bed, waiting for him to come back.

Spencer however sits down on the couch to read through all of your diary entries. He feels his pants getting uncomfortably tighter the more he reads and one entry particularly draws his attention. You had this dream 2 days ago.

He used his handcuffs to tie you to the bed, kissed down your body before going over to tease you by squeezing your breasts and biting down on your nipples. You begged him to touch you and when he decided that he teased you enough, he went over to eating you out and fucking you with his fingers. And then, after you came, he leaned forward and spit into your mouth.

Spencer never expected you to dream of things like this, but he is more than happy to make them come true. His cock is getting harder and he decides you waited long enough. Luckily, yesterday after you got off work, you got some take out and drove to your place to eat dinner together. He left his vest and jacket, in which he also packed his handcuffs, hanging in your apartment because he knew he would be back today anyway.

He stands up and goes over to get his handcuffs. He straps them to the back of his pants so you don’t see them right away. Then he goes into your room and opens the door. You lay on the bed, with your legs spread apart, just like he told you. He smirks and comes closer, his eyes wander over your body.

You feel extremely exposed and have to resist the urge to put your arms in front of your body to cover yourself. But then you see Spencer's tongue licking his bottom lip and his eyes darken. “You look so beautiful, baby. I can’t wait to finally touch you,” he says and gets onto the bed. He leans down to kiss you again and you run your fingers through his hair.

He kisses your neck before leaning closer to your ear again. “Do you trust me, baby?” he asks and you nod. He shakes his head. “I need words,” he says and you answer him immediately. “Yes, Spencer. I trust you.” He looks pleased. “Good. Can you close your eyes for me?”

You close your eyes and feel him shift, excited to find out what he planned to do to you. You can feel his hands reaching for yours, then you hear the clatter of metal and feel something cold close around your wrist. You know exactly what comes next and a shiver runs down your spine.

He lifts your hands over your head and ties you to the headboard. You can’t help but smile and he notices. “I see, you’re already enjoying this. You can open your eyes now. I want you to look at me when I touch you,” he says. You open your eyes and look up to Spencer above you.

“I have to admit, your dream from two nights ago surprised me. I really liked reading it. I decided to make this one come true first,” he says before he starts to slowly kiss down your neck. He goes further down around your breasts and then your stomach before he spreads your legs apart and leaves kisses between your inner thighs. When he bits down on the soft skin to leave a hickey there you can’t help but moan.

“Please, I - I need you,” you say and try to reach down to press him against you. But you forget that you’re held back by the handcuffs. Spencer chuckles when he sees you like this, helpless and desperate for more. “Be a good girl and I’ll give you what you want,” he says and his hands wander upwards to your breasts again.

He starts to squeeze the right one and leans down to lick over your left nipple before taking it in his mouth. He bites down gently first and then he starts to suck. All the man you had before never really paid that much attention to your breasts and your surprised how good it feels with him.

When he pulls away and blows cold air on your nipple you shiver again. He turns his attention to the other one and you can’t help but moan. “More…please. I need you to fuck me,” you beg him but he just ignores you and continues his actions.

You press your legs together to relief the ache between your legs but he notices and pushes them apart again with his knee. He grabs your chin with his hand and holds you firm, looking into your eyes. “You have to be patient, baby. I want to take my time with you,” he says.

You nod but a silent cry escapes your lips. The way he’s touching your body leaves you craving him even more and after all these weeks of dreaming about this, you don't want to wait any longer. But you know it won't do any good to keep begging. Instead you focus entirely on his lips, his hands and how he touches your body.

When Spencer finally decides that he teased you enough he slowly leans down, hands running up your thighs before spreading your legs even further to get in between them. You look down and in that moment you wish you’d had an eidetic memory too because you never want to forget the way he looks at you now.

“I always wanted to know what you taste like, baby,” he says and you can feel his warm breath against your pussy. Then he finally leans in and starts to circle your clit with the tip of his tongue. The touch is light, teasing again and all you want is to pull him closer and run your fingers through his soft, brown curls. His eyes never leave yours when he starts to devour you.

You can’t help but grind against him and this time, he gives you what you want. One hand moves up to your hip, the other one under your ass and he pulls you closer to him while his tongue continues to move in and out of you. He applies more pressure and adds two fingers, making you moan his name over and over again.

“I’m close,” you manage to breath out and Spencer flicks his tongue over your clit. “Come for me baby, come on my mouth,” he says and you let go. Your back arches off the bed when your orgasm hits you but that doesn’t stop Spencer. He just continues what he’s doing, taking everything in.

Your orgasm slowly ebbs away and Spencer comes up from between your legs, his eyes full of lust. He gently runs a finger over your lip and smirks. “Open up for me, baby,” he says and then you realize what he’s about to do. You shiver in excitement and open your mouth.

Then he leans forward and spits into your mouth. “Swallow.” You obey and keep eye contact with him the whole time. “Good girl,” he praises you and gently kisses you, holding you close to him. He gives you a minute to recover, which you gladly take before he starts to undress himself.

Your eyes widen, he’s definitely bigger than you expected. He goes back in between your legs and slowly runs his tip through your folds. “Just… just fuck me already. Please,” you beg him. “You’re so needy, baby. You want to take it all at once? Fine, then have it.” He thrusts inside of you.

You feel the pleasure rushing through your body, expanding every time he hits your g-spot while he fucks you in a restless pace. “You look so pretty like this. Tied to the bed and fucked out for me. You’re all mine now. Gonna make all your dreams come true,” he says and grabs your hips to hold you firm.

He continues to fuck you until you’re crying out his name. He comes closer and wraps a hand around your throat, before kissing your neck again, leaving more hickeys. When he starts to circle your clit again you feel like you’re going to explode from the intense pleasure.

“Spence, need to… please, please…” you whine, unable to form a complete sentence. He chuckles, clearly amused to see you so desperate for him. “Baby, I don’t understand you. You have to tell me what you want,” he teases, squeezing your throat more and slowing down for a moment.

“I - I want -“ you begin but get cut off again by a moan when he thrusts harder into you again. “Look at that, you’re a complete mess. You clearly don’t know what you want, do you? I’m afraid I have to stop then” he teases. “No!” you answer immediately, wrapping your legs around him to keep him close.

“Tell me what you want then, otherwise I can’t help you. Come on, I know you can do it,” he says. “I want to… I want to come. Please,” you finally manage to say before your eyes roll back again. “That’s it, such a good girl,” he says and releases the hand around your throat to speed up his thrusts again.

Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably when your orgasms hits you and Spencer fucks you through it, finishing inside you a moment later. You can feel his cum deep inside of you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply and giving both of you a moment to calm down.

Then he sits up, leaning forward to untie you. You immediately cuddle up to him, holding him as close as possible. “Are you okay? Do you need anything baby? Water maybe?” he asks and gives you a tender kiss on your forehead. “No, please just hold me in your arms now,” you say and he pulls you even closer against him.

He runs his hands through your hair and you can feel his heartbeat beneath your hand. After a while you look up to him, with a smile on your face. “That was even better than in my dreams,” you mumble, still exhausted. He laughs and pushes a strand of hair out of your face. “I’m glad to hear that.”

For a moment everything is quiet, you just enjoy lying in bed together and holding each other in your arms. Then Spencer shifts closer. “You know, tonight it wasn't just your dreams that came true. I wanted this - you - for a long time now too,” he admits and your heart skips a beat.