Spencer Reid | Oneshots

Schrödinger's Relationship (2) 🔥 (E)

Summary: Reader confronts the team.

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Content Warnings: Arguing, embarrassment, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, biting, marking, rough sex, semi-public sex

——————————————————

I'd always hated that scene in the movies where the protagonist does something slightly strange and suddenly every single person in the room is staring at them. I'd always thought to myself, that's so dramatic - there's no way every single person in the room would bother to divert their attention from their own lives for something so small. It was completely unrealistic.

But I had been wrong. I was so, so wrong.

The second that I'd walked into the event, there were dozens of pairs of eyes on me. Of them, I immediately recognized the ones who also happened to frequent the bar I worked at.

It was his team, and they were all looking at me.

I tried to convince myself that it was my abnormal attire that struck their attention. After all, I was sure none of them had pictured their bartender, whom they were used to seeing dressed in our standard all-black uniform, would show up at their workplace in a well-fitted maroon cocktail dress. Their reaction told me everything I needed to know; they saw me as a bartender first, and a person second.

They didn't see me as Spencer's girlfriend, period.

But I was.

That was why I held my head high as he escorted me through the room on his arm. He never once acted like I didn't belong there because I did. I was Spencer's girlfriend, and I had been invited. It was the first time he'd brought me to a work event, and the first time I'd ever been inside the building. It wasn't the bullpen— just some strange collection of suites. Still, it was a big deal for us.

When I glanced over at him to make sure that he didn't feel as awkward as I did, all I saw was an intense pride and happiness on his face. Sadly, it didn't make it any less weird for me.

His team addressed us immediately and with only a little discomfort. We didn't stay to let it stew. I was sure Spencer hadn't told them that he had confessed to me that they didn't think very highly of our relationship, or me, for that matter.

But he had. I knew. I tried not to resent them for it - I really did, but it didn't work, and that wasn't my fault. It was hard to forgive strangers who judge you based on some stereotypical assumptions based on your career and the little bit they'd bothered to learn about you. It's even harder when you thought they were your friends.

For Spencer's sake, though, I didn't mind pretending. For a few hours, I could pretend like they hadn't told Spencer about how my history suggests I wouldn't be able to handle the high-stress, lonely existence that comes with dating an FBI agent.

It was all fucking bullshit. The frustration must have been as obvious as it felt, because as soon as we finished the first rounds of introductions, he led me to a slightly secluded corner, blocking my view of everyone else until I was forced to only focus on what he had to say.

His hand came to rest on my shoulder that then ran down my arms, which were crossed angrily over my chest.

"We can leave if you want," he offered with a pitying glance that I didn't appreciate.

"I'm fine."

It was, by far, the least convincing thing I'd ever said. Needless to say, Spencer wasn't buying it.

"You're clearly uncomfortable," he laughed when I refused to admit it.

All I could do was huff, swiping his wine glass out of his hand and downing half the contents before he could even put his hand back in his pockets.