So, still in the au of “secrets: Spencer Reid”..
I wanna see the teams reactions to reader and how cute Spencer is with her and how protective she is of him. Maybe Spence gets a little drunk and reader has an arm locked around him with a possessive scowl on their face. Pleeaasee??
you ask and you shall receive! i’m glad you enjoyed secrets, anon<3 sorry this is so late :(
secrets p. 2. spencer reid
spencer reid x fem!reader
part 1 | part 2 ♡ this can be read as a stand-alone though!
summary: everyone expected spencer’s plus one to be his grandma or a close friend visiting. to see him show up with you hanging off his arm, clad in a black dress and rubbing your blood red lips together, you become the talk of the night.
warnings: fluff fluff just straight fluff!! spencer introducing his gf to the fam, teasing, drinking, flirting , nothing out of da norm. r is tough and possessive and spencer is basically her girlfriend.
a/n: someone take pinterest away from me because i’m getting too good at scouring for mgg stills and staring at them for hours. tell me you didn’t stare at that picture too.
spencer texted morgan that night, telling him that he’s bringing a plus one. morgan responded with a curt “yea bring ur ma on over why not.”
it appears that morgan did not take spencer that seriously. so he texted garcia, and she responded with “which member of the family havent we met? ❤️” spencer was just midst of falling on to his knees.
the day rolls around and spencer dreads it, plots a plan to make you watch a star wars movie marathon so that you’d fall asleep by the time of the event. he’s not a social recluse, by any means (okay so sometimes he is) but he prefers an evening staying in over going out. and it’s sunday evening, too, and he just wants an early night and to kiss you lazily until he’s sleepy. he doesn’t want to start the car, doesn’t want to get dressed up and get tidy for the bar. doesn’t wanna go anywhere.
the marathon plan backfired on him. just as you’re halfway through the third movie, you start pushing the throw blanket off your bodies, nudging spencer’s arms off of you. spencer whines, and he tries to make himself look extra pathetic (which didn’t take much, considering how he’s already desperate to get out of meeting the team) so that you’d pity him.
you don’t fall for his act one bit, which is extremely humbling to spencer. his puppy eyes used to work on you, but he suppose you’ve grown an immunity to them. “lazy boy,” you chides. he hides his face in the crook of your neck and you laugh. “come on, we’ll be late.”
“fashionably late,” spencer quips. you laugh again, detangling your bodies and press a kiss on his cheek before leaving the living room. spencer sits on the couch for a while and contemplates.
he does end up dragging his ass off the couch and freshen himself up. you have decided to use the guest bathroom for some reason, and he gets ready by himself, shaving before throwing on a simple burgundy sweater with all kind of patterns on it and some black pants, smoothing his hair out a bit and tucking them neatly behind his ears.
he rubs at his chin, looking at himself in the mirror. he looks like a middle school civics teacher, but he couldn’t careless.
he grabs his phone and slides it in his back pocket, going to the closed guest bathroom door. he knocks softly, leaning in close to not miss your voice.
“yn?”
“almost there,” you respond through the door.
“can i come in?”
“uhh,” spencer frowns. it’s unusual you’re doing this. you guys have shared an apartment for five months now, and he’s basically learned to lived around your life, to always have you wherever. getting ready apart is definitely unusual, and you’re being hesitant about letting him in, even.
maybe you’re still mad about the lila thing. he should apologize the moment he gets the chance.
“sure honey,” you say finally. spencer cautiously opens the door, and you’re sitting on the bed, pulling up your black pantyhose. he melts and perks up simultaneously at the sight of you.
you’re wearing a shiny, black silk dress that goes halfway down your thighs, the material pooling on the white sheets as you adjusts the pantyhose, reaching for your matching black leather mary janes. spencer looks down at himself, feeling timidly underdressed. you look up and smile at him so easily as if you're not the most beautiful woman in the world.
spencer feels his throat clog up. he clears it but when he speaks his voice is still blurry. "hi."
"hi," you buckle up your mary janes, gold necklace hovering above your knee. spencer stands awkwardly at the door, too entranced to move. you look up when he doesn't answer immediately, and breathe out a laugh when you see the dumb, starstruck look on his face. "gonna stand there all night baby?"
"mhm," spencer says absentmindedly. he finally bounces off the door frame and carefully sits himself on the bed next to you, cautious with every move. he immediately gets a faceful of the scent of your perfume and you look like an angel, smell like one too. "new dress?"
"mhm, thrifted it the other night," you respond. you stand up from the bed and do a small twirl, the thin fabric forming the shape of a flower, flying. you remind him of a black cherry blossom, if those even existed. "you like it? found it for four dollars. can you believe that? deal of a lifetime. if i had gotten to the thrift later someone would've snatched it right up."
to be honest, spencer isn't listening to a single word you're saying. he stares at you, and your silver hoops and crinkling eyes and the silver necklace he gifted you for your birthday five months ago and gets dizzy with the thought of how lucky he is.
"crazy deal," he says. then blurts. "you look beautiful."
you smile playfully. "you're just saying that," you laugh, smoothing out your hair in the mirror installed in the wardrobe. spencer stares at your reflection. "looking dapper yourself, doctor."
"do you think i should change?" he asks. because right now, it looks like you're both dressing up for different events. him to a school-based textbook debate conference and you to a high class art museum. neither events are the actual event you are both going to.
"you look handsome, spence," you reassure him. "that sweater. it suits you."
"it doesn't suit the bar," spencer grumbles quietly, still upset that he has to show up. he's not a bar man. more of a picnic or joinery kind of guy.
"you weren't born to suit whenever you're going," you say and then grab his hand. "we're gonna be late."
***
spencer gets even more grumbly when you both enters the bar, but you know in his heart he's extremely happy. he practically lights up when he sees his team crowding at a booth, dragging you along by the arm. he says hi to everyone, immediately comfortable just from the presence of his team except his excitement isn't mutual. the team isn't looking at him, but at you.
goggling like an eagle, some might say. you elbow spencer in the ribs. spencer looks at you questioningly, as if he doesn't know what to do.
"introduce me," you urge, feeling more awkward by the second. a man staring at you with his jaw on the table, beer frozen halfway to his lips you assume is morgan has a terrified look on his face. everyone does, actually.
"oh yeah. sorry," spencer says, ears turning slightly red but his beam is still bright. "everyone, this is yn. she's my girlfriend!"
"sweet mary jesus," morgan finally says. he breaks the ice, and the entire booth corrupts in excitement.
"reid, what are you doing? sit the lady down," jj scowl, scooting over and making space, squishing emily against her. spencer lets you slide in first, next to jj and he sits down after you, hand gentle at your waist. "why didn't you tell us?"
"well i tried to--"
"i really thought we had nothing to hide from each other. you know you could've trusted me with it!" garcia quips, her thick neon red earrings moving back and forth.
"i didn't do anything deliberate to hide it!" spencer defends himself snarkily.
"i couldn't deduce you had a girlfriend. i just thought someone who made you really happy started crashing at your place," hotch says, thoughtfully.
"let the girl talk," rossi rolls his eyes. spencer definitely captures their personalities well when he tells you stories about the bau, you recognize everyone just from a sentence. the table quiets and you can feel the warmness of eyes all on you.
"hi everyone," you could feel your cheeks getting warm from the attention. you wanted to make an impression, but it's hard. you go for the standard, "i've heard a lot about everybody."
"we would've loved to hear about you," garcia chirps. "but spencer is a very private soul. how long have you been together?"
the evening dissolves into small talk and teasing, and out of everyone in the bau, perhaps the one who's most shocked and proud of spencer is morgan. he sits back, arm tossed around garcia, admiring spencer like a pleased older brother seeing his baby brother ask for his car keys to take his new girlfriend out on a date. hotch has the same expression on his face, one of a proud dad.
he knew that something had been keeping spencer extra upbeat than usual, the lack of eye bags and how he's always energized and better put together. hotch couldn't place a figure on what it was, but now he realizes it was you. spencer almost glows, basking in the shower of your presence and hotch knows that under the table you and spencer are probably doing something cringy like rubbing circle-eights into each other's knees or holding hands under the table. the same thing he did when he was hopelessly in honeymoon love.
the entire table are happy for the both of you, but there's probably isn't anyone in the club more happy than spencer. he is lovesick and you're so beautiful, he can't help it. he feels more comfortable than he ever had been in a club, and that encourage him to knock more drinks down, have a little more fun.
"i'll grab the next round," you say, noticing that the beers in everyone's hands are getting lukewarm. you press a hand against spencer's thigh as you get up. spencer looks up at you, eyes wide and sweet. "i'll be right back."
as soon as you absorb into the crowd, the entire table startles in cheers and whistles. spencer glows red, partly from the alcohol. mostly from the attention. "my man!" morgan praises, knocking a punch into spencer's shoulder.
"ow!"
"she's beautiful," jj says approvingly. "she knows how to dress."
"i'm sayin'!" despite how much he denies it, derek is a horrible lightweight. he slurs. "how the hell did you bag her? tell us your secrets."
spencer blushes like a newly courted bride, going magenta all over.
"okay stop bullying the kid," emily says, but she's grinning wide.
"he definitely likes it," garcia giggles, pressed flat against morgan.
when you return, beers in your hand, the entire booth are giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls and your boyfriend is rambling, on and on. "sorry i took a while," you say, and within a flash everyone's grabbed beers for themselves, knocking the caps over. it's reached that point of the night when everyone's breath smells of beer, and the music is extra loud and everyone's extra dizzy. spencer latches onto you immediately the moment you sit down, staring at you with fucking moons in his eyes.
"i was just talking about you," he says, pupils wide. you know your boy is beyond drunk.
"yeah?" spencer nods. "what about?"
spencer hiccups and forgets the question. "wanna dance?"
a small smile creep on your face. it's unusual for spencer to ask, usually he doesn't even want to witness the act of people dancing together at all. "you sure?" you lock an arm around him. no one pays attention to the two of you, lost in their own conservations. spencer nods again.
"can we dance? let's go," he makes to move, pouting his lips but you slither your arms all over him, trapping him into you. "y/nnn," he whines.
"stay put for a bit for me okay?” you murmur, trying to distract him from the dancefloor.
it’s not like you oppose to dancing. hell, you love dancing, but ever since you stood up to grab the table drinks, you notice unwanted eyes across the bar glued on your boy, women with sharp eyebrows and pointy chins and short dresses, and you can never help the awful feeling that coils in your stomach.
jealousy is an irritating feeling to feel, and it’s telling you to dig your teeth into his neck and mark him all over for everyone to see and look away. but you won’t do that, because you have a slightest drops of decency you have saved up, and the least you can do is pamper spencer with kisses and grab onto his hand so tight he’d think of you instead of the inviting dancefloor.
spencer falls for it immediately, returning your kisses and whining pathetically against your lips, the alcohol making his head spin. spencer ‘s never been a fan of pda but he couldn’t careless now, hanging on you like a cat, dancefloor forgotten. you smile against his lips.
victory.
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