The Red Lounge ~Spencer Reid x Reader ~

Whispers

(Y/n) and Spencer both have a bad day, and know that only one person is going to help them get over it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kg7SBsTydo0

The heat wave finally broke that Monday night and on Tuesday as the city sighed a collective breath of relief, I worked yet again at the coffee shop, this time working on my barista skills. I had just pulled my first shot when a familiar, and none too welcomed face appeared at the cash.

Kieth took a few seconds to recognize me, but when he did we gave each other a mutual look of scathing hatred. He hated me for the same reason I hated him. He hated me because I made him look weak in front of Spencer and Jennie, and I hated him because of how he treated Jennie. We had somehow gotten him whitelisted from the club and suspended from working. It wasn't a permanent fix, but at least he wasn't allowed in if either Jennie or Spencer was working. It was a small step, but it was worth it.

"Kieth." I said, crossing my arms over my chest. Unsurprisingly, he wore exactly the same thing he did at the club in public, black pants, a black leather vest over a white shirt, and a black safari cap made of faux leather. His white hair was down to his shoulders and his beard was unkempt despite the obvious fact that he had enough money to afford real snakeskin boots. He was really fitting into the slimy character archetype wasn't he?

"Oh, you're Spencer's bitch aren't you?" The comment hit me like a ton of bricks in the chest. Ex-fucking-cuse me? My jaw went slack as I glared at him. I knew he was an asshole, but I didn't think he'd dare in public. My manager must not have heard him because he continued to wipe down the counters behind me.

"I'm not Spencer's anything, and I am certainly not his bitch." I seethed, bracing my hands on the wood of the counter staring him down.

"His pay by the hour whore then. I don't give a shit, just do your job and get me my coffee." I hated how much his words hurt, but the tears threatened to spill if I didn't control them. I forced myself to hold them in, filling his order and then handing it to him. He blew me a kiss and I wanted to be sick as he left the cafe.

The second he was gone, I let out a forced breath, and from the look a woman was giving me from across the bar, she had heard the whole exchange and was staring in shock. "Honey, are you okay?" She asked, reaching her hand towards me. I forced myself to stare at the ground, trying to convince myself not to cry even as the first tears fell over my cheeks. "Excuse me, sir? Are you really going to let a customer speak to your staff like that?" She called, forcing my manager to turn and give her a customer service smile.

"Ma'am, unfortunately, I can't control what patrons say to my staff. He's gone, and if he returns we can make sure that this doesn't happen again." So he did hear what he said, and chose to do nothing. Right. At this point, a man from the bar also chimed in.

"Dude, are you fucking serious? Did you even hear what he said? That was disgusting!"

A woman joined the cacophony of sound and called from her table. "It shouldn't have been said in the first place! That's not only rude but bordering on sexual harassment." I was starting to get upset and my heart was pounding. I didn't want to cause such a scene, that was the whole point of just letting him say it and get him the fuck out.

"Well none of you said anything!" Came Darren's brilliant reply, which stuck the last nail in the coffin for me. I turned to him at that, staring him down angrily as I untied my apron, balled it up, and tossed it in his chest.

"You know what Darren. Suck my dick and choke on it. How's that for saying something?" I seethed, my voice breaking as I reached my hand into the tip jar and scanned my card to clock out, shoving a wad of bills into my pocket. I have never stormed out of a job before, but from the cries of anger from the patrons at Darren's actions, I have never felt more justified.