The Red Lounge ~Spencer Reid x Reader ~

Just Say it Out Loud

((CW HOMOPHOBIC SLURS))

(Y/n) and Spencer face a demon, and (Y/n) learns something she wishes she never knew.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GfxoC8frUSU

"Are you okay?" I asked, sensing an unsease in Spencer's body language as he slid into the car, placing the baggie of makeup wipes in my lap, followed by placing the bag of what I could see was leggings and a tanktop at my feet.

He nodded, putting the car in reverse to pull out and head for the lake. It kind of impressed me how easily he got around already. "Yes, Kristen was there." I stiffened, pausing in the motion of bringing the wipe to my face.

"Oh?" I asked, starting to wipe at the caked on pigment on my skin when he didn't look at me.

"She's.. uhm.. Drunk." I sighed loudly, shaking my head.

"Ask me if I'm surprised." I scoffed, rubbing roughly at my face until all of the makeup was gone. It took two wipes, but it was finally off and I could breathe. I dropped a few drops of visine in my eyes from my purse and blinked as it soothed my irritated corneas. "Did she say anything?" He shook his head and I nodded, grabbing the leggings from the back and unbuckling my seatbelt in order to lift my hips and slide them on. Spencer watched me out of the corner of his eyes, focusing on the road primarily to avoid danger, but still unable to help himself as the motion exposed parts of me to his view.

I smirked, sliding the tanktop over my head before pulling the dress off through it, not exposing my chest in the slightest. "You know, I'm too impressed to be mad." He said with a small laugh and I shrugged smuggly.

"You want a show, you have to pay for it." I retorted, which only earned me a look from him, a raised eyebrow and a challenge in his eyes. I laughed awkwardly and cleared my throat. "Uhm.. First ones free?"

"That's what I thought." He replied, his hand leaving the wheel to latch on to my now fabric covered leg, gripping the flesh tightly. I smirked, turning to look out the window, watching as my childhood town flew by.

We arrived at the Bangor waterfront on the banks of the Penobscot river just before noon. I retrieved the blanket from the back of the truck that Spencer had grabbed from the room and tossed it over my shoulder as he parked and turned off the engine. Happily, I hopped out of the passenger seat and waited for him to come around the front of the engine, and walk beside me as we found a place to sit on the grass, just past the pavilion.

Spencer settled on the blanket, and I laid perpendicular to him, my head in his lap. He began running his hand through my hair absently, the repetitive and calming motion relieving a headache and lulling me into that dizzy warm state that I was craving. Turning my brain off really helped me get through some of the worst moments. "Hey Spencer?" He made a 'Hmm?' noise and I opened my eyes to see him looking down at me, his brown hair making a halo around his head in the sun. "I'm sorry for how my mother acted." His face fell and he sighed.

"You don't need to apologize, (Y/n)." He replied, cupping the side of my face. "Trust me, if anyone is going to understand, it's me. My mother has Paranoid Schizophrenia, I'm used to insults being hurled at me and those around me. I'm just sorry that it was such a nasty interaction for you. I could tell you were trying not to get upset."

I sat up, and his hand moved from my face to rest on my hip as I turned to him. "Oh, Spencer. I'm sorry." He rolled his eyes playfully and leaned forward to kiss me.

"I'm not telling you that to turn this on me." I shook my head, I knew he wasn't, he was empathizing. "I'm telling you because you deserve to know that people like us, who have dealt with situations like this can still be successful and we are not the people we are forced to think we are." I blinked a few times, not really knowing how he could see through me so easily.