Spencer Reid x Reader One-Shots

What Fresh Hell?

Title: What Fresh Hell?

Word Count: 1100

Rating: T

Summary: The reader and Spencer do a little hand to hand combat training, which leads to an awkward (and romantic) moment.

Requested by: @fangirl0170

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"I can't believe he's making us do this." You grumble as you walk toward your car heavily.

"I know, Y/N." Spencer, your best friend, says from beside you, "I know. That doesn't change the fact that we have to do it, though."

"This is why I have a gun, though!" You say, exasperated. "I don't need hand-to-hand combat if I can just take the shot!"

"Y/N, you and I both know that sometimes taking the shot isn't possible." Spencer replies, looking over at you with sympathy.

"Damn you, Hotch!" You say, then check around you quickly.

"Come on, Y/N, it's only for today. One day, and this moronic fitness test will be over." He says as the two of you reach your car.

"How do you think it's going to be?" You ask from inside your car, turning the engine over and buckling your seatbelt.

"We'll probably have to- um- spar." Spencer says. You nod and pull out of the parking lot.

About ten minutes later, you and Spencer are at the training center. You leave him at the door, hurrying to the women's locker room to change into your workout gear. You dress fast, wanting the entire affair to be over and done with. A tank top in your favorite color and a pair of shorts are donned, your possessions are placed in your locker, and your hair tied back. You're ready to go.

Spencer is waiting outside the locker room, dressed awkwardly in a pair of shorts and a hoodie. He even has a headband around his forehead. You giggle at the sight, and he gives you a confused look.

"Lose the headband." You say, standing on tiptoe and tugging the offending garment off, ruffling his hair. It seems like it's only then that he notices your outfit.

You don't really wear shorts to work much, a bit like Spencer. The shorts that you're wearing now are just a little short, so the smooth skin of your leg is exposed. The tank top you'd picked out wasn't low or anything, but it was a little tight. So, naturally, you'd felt a few stares. And now Spencer was looking, too.

It wouldn't be honest to say that this had no effect on you. In fact, your whole body was alive with tingles and your heart was beating fast. Now the crush you harbored for him wouldn't feel so one-sided. Maybe he'd finally start thinking about you as a woman, not just a coworker!

Spencer looks awkward again, so you clear your throat and smile outwardly this time. "How about we get this over with?"

He swallows visibly. "Good idea."

After the fitness trainer gives you a few pointers, the two of you put on the necessary protective gear and begin working individually. You're saddled with the punching bag, which you hate. The rough surface scratches up your knuckles and irritates them, so as soon as you're allowed to stop, you do. Then you work with a personal trainer, who re-teaches all the important things you've forgotten and spars with you.

By the time you're finished sparring, the place is nearly empty. You're done by then, thank God, but Spencer is still finishing up. He's less awkward than you'd have expected, picking up an a few things the instructor points out. You watch him for a bit, getting antsy. You want to leave this place as badly as you've ever wanted to leave anywhere.

Finally, Spencer turns away from his trainer and heads over to you. You smile, ready to finally get out of this mess.

The look on his face is less than ecstatic. This puts you on edge. Spencer hadn't wanted to do this any more than you had, which means something is wrong. You sigh.

"What fresh hell?" You ask as you reach him.

"We have to spar against each other." He says, looking awkward as hell. Again.

You sigh again. "Alright, let's do this." You get into position, then frown in confusion as you watch the two remaining instructors clear out of the room. "What-?"

     "This isn't the test. He-" Spencer gestures to his trainer, who's almost out the door by now- "said that if either of us wants to get better, we had to practice and that he'd be checking up on us later."

"Great," You groan, rolling your eyes. "I get to spar and kill my muscles further while James over there goes home and watches Netflix." You call your trainer by name.

"You can't actually-"

"I know, Spence. I know."

Spencer sighs.

"Well, let's get this over with," you say, then throw a light punch.

He reciprocates. You kick at his leg. He dodges, surprisingly graceful, and hits you lightly on the shoulder. Suddenly, you want to win.

Two rather hard punches are thrown at his chest area. He coughs, surprised. You kick at his leg, careful not to hurt him. He squints at you, trying to figure out what you're doing. Eventually he catches on, though, and begins to block your onslaught of blows. You're actively fighting now, though you don't really know why.

Another kick is aimed at his leg. This one knocks him off balance and brings him down.

But he brings you down with him.

You land in a heap of arms and legs and padding. When you open your eyes, you find yourself on top of him, nose to nose, straddling his hips, chests pressed together. The collar of your tank top is low on your chest, showing s fair bit of cleavage. Spencer's eyes are wide and try to avoid the area, but they dip down in the few moments you're watching.

"I'm sorry..." You murmur.

"It's okay." He replies, propping himself up on his elbows. You wriggle a little bit, uncomfortable, and he bites his lip. "Don't do that."

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" You are somewhat frantic.

"No... it's just that..." He trails off, looking away.

"Just that...?" You prompt.

"You're... um... in my lap. Wearing very little. AndIfindyouattractive." He says the last part so fast that you can barely understand it.

Oh.

Oh.

"You find me attractive?" You ask, after your momentarily stunned silence passes.

"Yes." He mutters, looking away again. You smile.

"Well, I find you attractive too, Spencer." You say, not really sure where this new confidence is coming from, but liking it very much.

His eyes go wide again. Then he stutters out, "Do you- um, do you want to go to dinner sometime?" He asks.

You swing yourself off of him, stand, and help him up. "I'd like that a lot, Spence."