(everybody is okay)

don't destroy his self-esteem 🐦😆

yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Closer than ever

Remus Lupin x Potter!reader

Summary: After years of friendship filled with banter, study sessions, and always having each other’s back, a certain Gryffindor victory shifts everything between them. The lines they’ve carefully walked for so long start to blur, sparking a new closeness neither can ignore.

Note: english is not my first languaje so it probably has some mistakes!

Words: 1,9K

It was a Sunday morning, and the first days of spring had brought a warm glow over Hogwarts. The Gryffindor team had been training all morning under their new, overly enthusiastic captain—your brother, James Potter—who was determined to crush Slytherin in the upcoming match.

“We’re telling you, Moony, he’s going to be the death of us!” Sirius groaned dramatically to Remus and Peter, clutching his chest with exaggerated despair. The table broke into chuckles, everyone except James.

“You’re exaggerating,” James said, taking a long sip of his orange juice, looking unimpressed.

“He’s really not, Jamie,” you interjected, giving him a pointed look. “It’s barely nine in the morning, and we’re here, fresh from a two-hour training session, just trying to enjoy breakfast,” you added, taking a bite of your toast.

James shrugged, grinning. “When we beat Slytherin, you’ll all be thanking me.”

You and Sirius shared an eye roll, and Peter and Remus gave a small laugh. Soon, the Marauders shifted the conversation to other things—something about their latest plan to prank the Ravenclaws—but you tuned them out, savoring the warmth of breakfast and the rare spring sun filtering through the Great Hall.

Beside you, Remus leaned in, speaking softly. “Are you still up for the study session with Lily later? Or do you want to take it easy after practice?”

Since your first year, Remus had always been the one to help you with studies when you needed it. Weekly study sessions had become a tradition, and once Remus and Lily had grown close, she’d started joining you too.

“I’m still up for it,” you replied, turning to smile at him. “I have an essay due on that Goblin War of 1882, or something like that.”

“Oh, yes, I remember that one from last year,” he said with a grin. “I’ve got you covered. Same time in the library?”

“Same time,” you confirmed.

Later that afternoon, you made your way to the library, books and notes in hand. As you entered, you spotted Remus already sitting at your usual table, a few books spread out in front of him. He looked up, giving you a warm smile as he waved you over.

“Hey! Ready to tackle the Goblin War of 1882?” he greeted with a grin, sliding a seat out for you.

“Not really, but I’ll try,” you replied with a laugh, settling down beside him.

As you set up your notes, you noticed that Lily was nowhere to be found. "Where’s Lily? Don’t tell me she bailed on us,” you joked, glancing around.

Remus chuckled, shaking his head. “She did, actually. But only for a good reason—your brother convinced her to go for a walk around the lake.”

“Of course he did,” you muttered, rolling your eyes but smiling at the thought of James finally winning Lily over enough to steal her for a date. “Guess it’s just us, then.”

“Just us,” he repeated his tone light but with the slightest hint of something softer, and you couldn’t help but feel a warm flutter in your chest.

Remus pulled one of the books towards you, flipping to a section he’d marked. “So, for your essay, you’re supposed to cover the lead-up to the war, right? I found a few bits in here that might help.”

“Thank Merlin you’re here,” you sighed, leaning in to read over his shoulder. The proximity made your face warm, and you quickly turned your attention to the book to avoid giving yourself away.

He started explaining the notes he’d gathered, his voice soft and steady as he walked you through the political tensions and key events leading up to the conflict. You noticed how his hands moved as he spoke, gesturing in small, precise movements, and how his face lit up slightly as he explained things. There was something calming about the way he taught—like he wasn’t just helping you study but making it genuinely enjoyable.

After a while, he paused, his gaze lingering on you a little longer than usual. “You’re actually getting this down quicker than I thought.”

“Are you doubting my historical expertise, Lupin?” you teased, glancing up at him with a smirk.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not at all, but you did look a bit horrified earlier at breakfast when you mentioned the essay.”

You laughed, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Alright, fair point.”

A comfortable silence settled over you both as you continued writing, only broken occasionally by quiet questions and shared glances that made your heart race more than you’d like to admit.

Eventually, your attention drifted back to Remus, his brow furrowed in concentration as he scanned through one of the history books. “You know, I never did get why you’re always so patient with me about this stuff.” You said softly “You know you don’t have to keep impressing James to be your friend, right?” you added playfully.

He looked up, surprised by the question but with a fond smile playing at his lips. “I know” he answered chuckling “I like spending time with you.” he replied simply, his voice barely above a whisper.

You felt a blush rising to your cheeks, and the air between you grew warm. “Well… I like spending time with you too,” you murmured back, feeling bolder than usual.

For a moment, you just looked at each other, the silence now filled with unspoken words and the quiet buzz of the library around you. Neither of you moved, and neither did anything to break the spell. Instead, you just smiled, feeling flustered and shy, but somehow happier than you’d been all day.

Remus cleared his throat softly, breaking the silence but not the mood. “So… back to the Goblin War?”

You laughed, nodding. “Back to the Goblin War.”

And, as you returned to your notes, you couldn’t help but wonder if, maybe, this little spark between you both was something he felt too.

A week after, the Gryffindor common room was a blur of red and gold, filled with cheers and music as everyone celebrated their win over Slytherin. As one of the Chasers, you’d played a crucial role, weaving through the Slytherin defense and scoring more than once, and your teammates and friends hadn’t stopped congratulating you since.

As you moved through the room, basking in the praise and warmth of your friends, Remus caught your eye from across the room. He was leaning against the wall, holding a cigarette and smiling softly as he watched you. You made your way over to him, dodging tipsy students and sidestepping Sirius, who was in the middle of a very dramatic retelling of the match to a group of fourth years.

“Hey,” he greeted, taking a drag of his cigarette. “You were incredible out there.”

“Thanks, Rem.” You grinned, taking a sip from your own drink. “I’d say I had to be. Slytherin was definitely out for blood.”

“Tell me about it,” he chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you play like that.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “It is Slytherin, after all.” You smirked. “You know, I wish you could come up there with me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’d have to use a Sticking Charm to keep me on that broom, but... maybe someday.”

You grinned, holding out your pinky. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He hooked his pinky with yours, giving you a look that made your heart skip. “Fine. But only if you promise you won’t laugh when I fall off.”

“Deal” you whispered, still caught in his gaze.

“Although I’m not sure if I’ll be as good as you” he said softly.

The compliment caught you a bit off guard, and you felt your cheeks warm slightly, though you brushed it off with a laugh. “Flattery now, Lupin? I’m not that easy.”

He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “Really? Could’ve fooled me. You looked over the audience about five times during the game, couldn’t keep your eyes off me.”

You laughed, nudging him. “Maybe you were distracting me.” You said playfully.

“Was I?” he asked, giving you that lazy, half-smile that made it impossible to tell if he was serious.

You smirked, folding your arms as you leaned in a little. “Yeah. You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

The words slipped out, and for a split second, you wondered if you’d gone too far. But instead of getting flustered, Remus just laughed, a deep, warm chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine.

He took a small step closer, his voice soft but playful. “So what if I do?”

Suddenly, you found yourself speechless, your usual confidence shaken by the way he was looking at you. Your heart raced, cheeks burning, and you tried to come up with a clever comeback but failed miserably.

Remus chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. “Didn’t expect that one, did you?” he teased gently, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for just a moment.

You swallowed, feeling your pulse quicken as you looked up at him. “Shut up” you mumbled.

His smile softened, and he leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to stop him if you wanted to. But of course, you didn’t. You closed the distance, meeting him halfway, and his lips were warm and soft against yours, filling you with a heady rush that made the whole world fade away.

His hands settled on your waist, fingers pressing gently as he pulled you closer, making your heart race. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his shoulders, fingers finding their way into the soft strands of his hair, savoring the warmth radiating from him. The kiss was anything but rushed; it was slow, each movement filled with a quiet intensity that spoke volumes.

As the kiss deepened, you felt the world melt away, leaving only the feeling of his steady heartbeat against your chest, the gentle touch of his hands as he drew you impossibly closer, and the realization that you’d both been waiting, yearning, for this moment to unfold. When you finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his thumb brushing your cheek as he whispered, “You really are something, you know that?”

But just as you were about to say something, you heard someone clear their throat beside you.

You both turned to find James standing there, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. “Well, well,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “about time, don’t you think?”

You felt your face go hot, scrambling to explain yourself, but James just rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Please, I’m just glad you finally got around to it. Just… no public displays around me, alright?” He winked and clapped Remus on the shoulder. “She’s all yours, Moony. But you better take care of her, or I’ll be hexing you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of anything else, mate,” Remus replied, glancing at you with a smile that made your heart skip.

James gave you one last playful eye-roll before heading back into the crowd. And as you turned back to Remus, you felt that spark between you both grow even warmer, knowing that whatever this was, you weren’t the only one who wanted it.

“Again?” you ask him smiling widely, making him chuckle.

“Again” me muttered against your lips before kissing you.

𝜗𝜚 The Book Thief.

Spencer Reid x Librarian!reader

Summary: In your uneventful first week at work, a man arrives to return a book two weeks late, and you decide to test his patience for a bit of fun.

Words: 2,3k.

TW: fem!reader. teasing. spencer from the firsts season with glasses meow. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I'm putting a lot of myself here because teasing a little to flirt is so fun.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

Spencer's day was quickly turning into a complete disaster, and anyone paying attention would notice. He thought that he probably looked like a lunatic. His glasses were misplaced, his hair was blowing in the wind, his pants were rumpled, and his bag was still open with a book that wasn't his on the verge of falling out. Normally he felt like a disaster, but this was beyond his usual limits. He didn't even know how he had gotten into this situation, let alone how he had managed to get up from the couch he had fallen asleep on the night before.

His feet made their way to the stairs of the library, which were quite imposing, and he struggled up them, holding on to the railing so as not to fall. He was somewhat taken aback when he walked through the door and noticed that the place was empty, without a single soul loitering or even browsing through a book. All the tables were empty and shiny, as if they had been cleaned recently and no one had used them since. Even the librarian's desk was empty, if a bit more cluttered with various books, papers, and pens strewn about.

Where was everyone? Was the place closed?

Reid was on the verge of departing, having considered the possibility that his time there might have been in vain. However, you emerged from behind the bookcase, observing him with a keen interest, almost as though you were equally taken aback by his presence as he was by yours.

“Hi.” You were the first to speak without taking your eyes off him.

“Hi.” He replied immediately, still showing a bit of his nervousness at your sudden presence. “I'm looking for the librarian. Do you know if she's here?”

As you listened to him, you walked to your desk and sat in the chair, feeling his gaze follow you. “Here I am.” You said, waving a hand to point to yourself.

He blinked a few times, his brain short-circuiting for a moment because you looked nothing like the woman who had been the librarian for years, with whom he always exchanged a few kind words and talked about the occasional book. She was probably three times your age, drank a lot of coffee, and didn't smile at him or anyone else as brightly as you did now.

“You're the librarian now?” He repeated, tilting his head slightly, looking for confirmation on your face. Noticing your nod, he felt even more out of place with his disheveled appearance and tried to straighten his unruly hair to look more decent.

It might have been a bit silly, but the fact that you were so young and probably about his age made him a bit more nervous than he would have liked. His social skills were already not the best with anyone, but with a pretty girl they were even less so.

“Yes, I am.” You confirm, noticing his slightly disheveled appearance at that moment. His subsequent attempt to clean himself up makes you chuckle internally as you watch him awkwardly try to look more presentable after learning who you are.

Spencer's curiosity grew by the minute. He looked at your desk, even though he had seen it before, but this time he noticed that most of the books there had dividers and post-it notes that made it obvious that you were reading them. He also noticed that the old caffeine smell that hit you as soon as you walked in was gone, and that was when he saw the cup of tea in your hands. It was clear to him that you had a different way of working than your predecessor. So he took a moment to watch in silence as you settled in.

“How can I help you?” Your voice brought him out of his thoughts and startled him a bit.

He cleared his throat, hoping you hadn't noticed that he was trying to get to know you a little by spying on your stuff. His eyes moved quickly from the books on your desk to yours, pretending that nothing had happened and that he wasn't lost in his own thoughts.

“I've come to return a book.” He said after a few seconds, taking it out of his bag and placing it on the counter so you could take it.

You picked up the book and examined it with interest, running your fingers over the cover and checking that it was in good condition. It was the first time in your first week on the job that anyone had ever returned a book, or even approached your desk for anything more than asking where the bathroom was. After carefully checking to make sure the book was completely fine, you opened it to see if the due date was in order, and then you realized there might be a problem.

“Mr. Reid, you should have returned this book two weeks ago.” You pointed it out after going through the file. “And you didn't ask for an extension.”

When Spencer heard your comment, he looked surprised; his eyes went to the floor, and then he looked back at you with a hint of embarrassment. He realized that he had almost completely forgotten about the book after working on several difficult cases in a row for days. He had barely had time to get a good night's sleep as he had to travel non-stop from city to city.

“I'm sorry, I...” He begins, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had every intention of returning the book, but unfortunately the policy here is not to grant extension after extension…the last few weeks have been pretty hectic. I have to admit that I lost track of time a bit. I…”

At that moment, you noticed how nervous he seemed to be about the whole situation, and a somewhat wicked idea came to your mind to step into your total cliche librarian role.

“I understand your situation, Mr. Reid, but you are a regular visitor here, as far as I can see. The rules must be followed by all, and there are no exceptions.” You pointed as you handed the book back to the bookseller. “What if someone had wanted to read it? Imagine the sadness of someone who doesn't know if their favorite copy will ever be available again because someone missed the deadline.”

At your words, Spencer swallowed dryly, and a hint of horror came over his face at the thought that he might have prevented someone else from enjoying a good book. He automatically felt a bit selfish about it.

“I hadn't considered that.” He said, biting his lip nervously. “I really wanted to return it.”

Seeing him in all his nervous glory, you couldn't help but find him strangely adorable. You didn't understand how anyone could be so nervous about a library fine that wasn't even that high. You had already learned that most people didn't even bother to check out books because of the hassle and how easy it could be to forget to return them. Not everyone has a true appreciation for books, and to finally meet someone who does is comforting.

“This is a very serious matter. How do you plan to compensate the poor soul who might have been interested in reading that book?” You added, observing his reactions with careful consideration.

He looked down again for a few seconds and then looked up to meet yours in the midst of his great nervousness. He felt somewhat exposed and vulnerable, so he thought about apologizing again, but your expression suggested that perhaps that wouldn't be sufficient this time.

“I...” He seemed to have run out of words, his brain working quickly to think of a worthy excuse. “I'll pay the fine, of course.”

“Oh, certainly.” You laughed lightly at the obvious, easy way out I'd given him, and he raised an eyebrow as if expecting something else. “But I think that's a bit mundane, don't you? You can't throw money at every problem that comes your way.”

Spencer's mind began to consider what other possibilities you might be alluding to. He even contemplated offering more or apologizing again until he noticed a subtle gesture that suggested you were holding back a smile. It was then that you stood up from your chair to be closer to his height, surprising him. He wasn't accustomed to someone being so suddenly close to him, which made his cheeks flush a little.

“Can I ask you a question?” Your breath brushed against his, which made him nod quickly, indicating his willingness to engage in further conversation. “Are you a book thief, Mr. Reid?”

The question takes you by surprise, and he is momentarily at a loss for words, just watching the way the soft light from the lamps hanging above you two reflected in your eyes. The unexpected proximity and the sudden question were not what he had envisioned in any of the thousand scenarios his mind created per second. He took a moment to collect his thoughts and then answered, his voice slightly hoarse.

“A book thief?” He repeated, as his brain processed what you had just asked him. “No, of course not. I would never...”

“Then what are you stealing, Mr. Reid?” You look into his eyes in a way that makes him shudder and feel both the urge to run away and the desire to never escape. “Maybe hearts?”

Spencer's cheeks reddened in a mixture of surprise and shock at your words. The idea of being considered someone capable of stealing hearts sounded so absurd to him. He stared at you, unable to find the right words to respond, his brain went blank for a few seconds, which was an unusual experience for someone like him. And the fact that you kept calling him ‘Mr. Reid’ didn't help his heart stop beating so hard and his rational side come into focus a bit.

“What? I don't...I didn't...” He finally managed to stammer. “I don't steal hearts. I…I only read books. I love books.” He blurted out, noting how sappy that last sentence had sounded.

Tell a librarian that you love books. Really? That's a good response to a weird kind of flirtation?

Reid wanted to punch himself in the face.

“Did you know that a Yale University study found that those who read books live an average of two years longer than those who don't?” The words were pouring out of his mouth before he could control them and think about whether it was timely or not. “Reading keeps the brain healthy and strong by keeping it active...which...which could be one of the reasons why those who read live longer.”

“Well, that's interesting. It seems like we'll be living longer.” You said this with a seriousness and interest that surprised him because he expected quite the opposite.

At that moment, you noticed that his glasses were out of place, and you couldn't help but feel the need to step closer and put them back on properly. As soon as you did, he froze. No one had ever done this before, and it seemed strangely intimate. He already felt quite vulnerable under your gaze, and your unexpected gesture made it even harder for him to keep his composure.

He swallowed dryly, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. “Uh...thank you.” He murmured, his voice a little shaky.

Despite his considerable expertise and success as a profiler, he felt somewhat uncomfortable in this particular situation. The feeling of being watched so closely, along with your questions and your touch, left him almost speechless and unable to profile you. He wasn't used to people catching him off guard like that, and he found it challenging to come up with a witty response that would make even the slightest impression. He felt a little out of his depth, and in a strange way, he liked it.

“It's nothing, Spencer.” You replied with a smile.

His first name...it's possible that he had never liked to be called that name as much as he did until that moment, when it came from your lips.

“May I call you that?” Your voice brought him out of his thoughts again.

“Yes, absolutely. Please.” He replied too quickly and now wishes he hadn't. He probably sounded foolish.

“Well, Spencer.” You repeated his name again, simply for the joy of it, which caused him to smile and try to talk again.

But the moment had to break suddenly.

You were both taken aback by the sudden opening of the front door, which prompted Reid to refocus his attention as soon as you both turned away from each other. You sat back in your chair, patiently awaiting the arrival of the newcomer. And at that moment, the former librarian appeared with a bag from a nearby restaurant in her hand, watching the two of you with interest.

“Hi mom.” You said.

His eyes widened as he looked back and forth between you, the former librarian, and the door. He was trying to understand the situation and how he hadn't foreseen it before. He hadn't even considered that there might be a relationship between the woman he had known for years and you, as you hadn't mentioned anything either.

“Mom?” He was frowning.

Spencer's phone suddenly rang, a high-pitched, shrill sound that echoed throughout the library, breaking the rule of silence. However, it was a rather timely interruption, giving him a chance to regain his composure and escape the increasingly uncomfortable and confusing situation. After apologizing, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, saw the caller ID, and breathed a sigh of relief that it was his work.

“Sorry.” He muttered, his eyes darting between you and your mother, barely noticing the resemblance between the two of you. “I...I have to go, but thank you for the help. I won't forget to return a book again.”

And with that, he left.

“I think I scared him.” You said to your mother as the door closed behind him, and the sound of his footsteps as he walked away confirmed that he wouldn't hear you.

“And it's not even Halloween yet, honey.”

can we PLEASE appreciate this.

I'm your favorite blogger's blocked mutual in law

you're my best friend | spencer reid

summary; you tell spencer he is your best friend to you its a indication of more to him its rejection.

warnings; best friends to lovers expect they dont make it to lovers whoops, angst whoops again, i think all lovers should be best friends, (un) requited feelings (ur both idiots) its short and honestly i dont remember writing this, mentions of dating other people but like whatever

an; yk that line in ‘you are in love’ by taylor swift thats like pauses, then say, you’re my best friend, and you knew what it was, he is in love? thats what gave me this idea im also just really fucking sad tonight and i miss my ex idk im also trynna be aesthetic am i aesthetic

any other night you wouldn't of cared to notice the way the streetlights blarred through the raindrops on the window or how the dark clouds lined the sky covering every showing star in their path. you wouldn't have noticed any of that if you weren't so focused on beiing focused on anything else.

anything other than spencer reid who was sitting beside you, driving you home. the case you had just got back from was long and angonizing. it was a complete pain to get through and it wasn't a secret that the entirety of the team were all ready to get home to their families and their own beds.

so, you weren't exactly estatic when remembering you hadn't driven to the office a week ago after being called in for the case, you were instead dropped off by your friend after the two of you needed to talk.

so you were car-less, and tired.

silly doodle

my bbys omg

infodumping spencer you are. so special to me

me

that should have been me

can you figure me out? ; spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: you try everything possible so that spencer realizes that you are completely in love with him, but he just doesn't seem to notice it.

warnings: i had spencer from season 2 in mind, nothing dw!

a/n: I had this draft saved and I was improving it to be able to post it, I hope you enjoy it! I have a couple of requests, thank you very much!! I hope to be able to make them soon. 💗 By the way, english is not my first language, let me know any mistakes, have a beautiful day! 💘

Everyone at the BAU knew you were completely in love with Spencer Reid.

Except for Spencer.

Which was sometimes funny—most of the time it was—but other times it was frustrating. It didn’t seem logical to you how a genius with an IQ of 187 couldn’t realize that he was basically the love of your life. It’s not like you were trying to hide it or something. He’s just oblivious.

Because of this, Morgan and García proposed a little game to you.

“I bet you could flirt with him all day, and he’d think you were just being friendly,” Penelope laughed.

You lightly bumped your forehead against your desk, staying there defeated. “Don’t even say that,” you mumbled against the desk.

“Hey, hey, don’t be sad, cutie,” Derek gently lifted your head so you could see him. “It’s not as bad as it seems. He’s just… something else,” he laughed.

“Don’t say that,” you frowned at Derek.

Derek raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. "Hey, it's okay, I'm not offending your husband."

"He's not my husband, and he never will be if he never pays attention to me." You sighed.

"Look, sweetie, flirt with him all day, no filter." She laughed.

Derek played along. "That's right, let's see how hard it is for him to notice." He laughed too.

"Stop playing around, this is serious, don't be like that." You were quite sad.

"We're being serious too!" Derek exclaimed.

"I mean, it's what you want, right? For him to notice. It's not possible that you flirt with him all day and he doesn't notice." Penelope added. "And listen, babe, if he doesn't notice this, I'm sorry to say it, but he's ignoring you," she explained to you.

You groaned and rested your head on the desk.

After a while, you started thinking about what Morgan and Garcia had said. After all, you had nothing to lose; in the end, it was basically what you did every day. Although, of course, this was a bit over the top, but who knows if it was over the top enough for Spencer to notice.

"Hey, you." You smiled at Spencer, who was in the office kitchen making one of his coffees.

Spencer looked at you. "Oh, hey." He gave you a smile, one of those where he just closed his lips without showing his teeth. Pretty typical of him.

"Those glasses?" You smiled, trying to make conversation.

Of course, you had noticed them; how could you not? He started wearing them about a week ago, and he looked dreamy. So much so that you thought you stared at him for about five minutes straight a couple of days ago while Hotch was explaining a new case.

"Mm, the contacts were really bothering my eyes lately." He explained while continuing to prepare his coffee.

"Well, they look great on you; you look great, really handsome." You began your mission.

"They’re nothing special. I had to get anti-reflective coating because the glare was bothering me too. It’s a coating applied to both surfaces of the lenses to reduce the glare caused by reflected light." He started explaining, as he always did, not noticing your attempt to tell him he looked good.

Spencer’s obliviousness: 1 - 0 : You.

"Ah—right, yeah." You sighed and watched him leave the kitchen, giving you another one of his smiles.

Second attempt.

You were at your desks, which were next to each other, finishing paperwork from the last case.

"Are you done? It's almost lunchtime," you asked Spencer.

"I still have to finish the geographical profile," he said, looking at his papers. "But I can do it after lunch." He looked at you.

"Great! I was thinking, would you like to go to that sandwich place a couple of blocks away?"

"Oh, sure! Tito’s, right?" He said, recalling the name of the place. "Sounds great." He smiled at you.

You were a bit surprised. "Oh, really? Great—Yeah, perfect." You stumbled over your words a bit—he had just accepted a date with you!

"Great, I'll tell the others," he said as he tidied up his desk.

"Okay, sure," you replied without thinking. "Wait—what? Spencer—" Maybe you thought he accepted a date with you too soon.

"Morgan loves that place," he told you. "See you later, okay?" He smiled and left.

You sighed.

Spencer’s obliviousness: 2 - 0 : You.

You sighed again.

Hotch and JJ explained a new case to you—apparently, there was a serial killer in Mill Creek, and this other guy who called himself the "Empty Man." It seemed they had some sort of rivalry and were killing women without restraint. So now, you guys would have to travel to St. Louis to help solve the case.

Everyone boarded the plane, which took off immediately after the case was announced. Everyone was scattered around the plane, analyzing the case. You were sitting next to Reid, across from the little table that those seats have.

After that tragic and terrifying lunch, you were left thinking about the possibility that Spencer did know and was ignoring you to avoid hurting you. Maybe he just didn’t like you, which wasn’t such a big deal. But you wished that if that were the case, he would at least tell you.

"Are you okay?" you heard the voice of the man from Las Vegas next to you.

"Hm? Yeah, yeah, of course," you replied instinctively.

"You don’t seem like it," he said with a frown.

Great, now he was starting to notice things.

"Really, I’m fine. I was just—thinking," you replied honestly.

"About what?" he asked.

"About you," you blurted out. The truth was, it was now or never; it didn’t matter whether he felt the same way or not.

"Me? Why about me?" he asked, even more confused.

"You're incredible, Reid," you laughed—it was better than crying. "I’ve been trying all day to get you to notice how much I like you! And you don’t understand anything!"

Awesome.

Spencer’s obliviousness: 3 - 0 : You.

Double awesome.

"Do you like me?" Spencer said, completely clueless.

"Of course i do! Ever since I got here. And I've tried everything but—" You sighed. "You don't like me... And that's okay, I don't expect you to, I just wish you'd tell me, you know?"

Spencer let out the breath he was holding and laughed a little. "Where did you get that from? How do you think I don't like you?"

"I do?" You opened your mouth in surprise, which made him laugh.

"Of course you do," he laughed. "I just thought you were being nice to me, you're nice to everyone, I didn't think it was special with me."

"Of course you are!" You laughed.

"According to April Bleske-Rechek, the psychologist leading the task force that studied the relationship between men and women, males and females have a very different perception of the messages they receive from the opposite sex." Reid started to Reidplain as he always did. "This, especially in the case of men, leads them to misinterpret signals."

"Really?" You said sarcastically, leaning on your hand, watching him as he explained.

"Yes, which is why I thought I was misinterpreting you." He shrugged.

"Not at all." You smiled as you brushed a strand of hair off his forehead.

"We're in the middle of a case, I'd appreciate it if you two could behave," Hotch said from the back of the plane.

"Oh, right, right, yeah—I'm sorry," both of you mumbled a bunch of incoherent apologies.

Then you looked at each other out of the corner of your eye with a small smile.

Awesome.

You: 1 - 3: Spencer’s obliviousness.

Triple awesome.

Take that, silly mental scoreboard.

Two Can Play That Game.

You’re cheating on Patrick. You’re not proud of it, but it just… happened. Patrick’s cheating on you, too. He never meant for it to happen, but it just… did. Imagine the surprise from both of you when you find out that Art Donaldson is caught up right in the middle.

masterlist. inbox.

It was an accident, the first time it happened. You swear.

Art had turned up at your dorm room one evening, with your tennis racket in one hand and a bottle of rum in the other.

He’d claimed he’d accidentally picked up yours when you were practising your serves together earlier in the afternoon - he’d only realised when he’d got back to shower and change. You’d opened up your bag, and sure enough, there was Art’s racket. Laughing as you handed it back, you invited him in.