Innocence [ spencer reid x reader ] ✔

ten: eager

Warning: this chapter does contain butt stuff. It is a lil intense. Proceed as you will.

Spencer closes the book in his lap as the metro slows, approaching his stop. Stuffing this book in his bag, he stands and swiftly walks off the train. He takes a sip from the cardboard to go cup his coffee is in as he briskly walks to his apartment. The team had gotten out of work pretty early—no new cases, just some paperwork. Spencer had spent his work day furiously writing on documents and stealing glances at Y/n, who had seemed to already be looking at him every time he looked up.

He smiles to himself at the thought of her as he bolts up the steps to his apartment two at a time. Both of them have been speaking pretty regularly since her admission to him a few days ago—the admission that made Spencer's stomach flutter.

You're mine.

It replays in his head like a needle on a scratched vinyl. He is hers. She is his. In a sexual sense or an emotional sense? Spencer doesn't know, and he's almost too afraid to ask. What if she says she doesn't think of him emotionally like that? That it's just sex for her? Maybe she'd only gotten jealous because she doesn't like the thought of someone else fucking him.

Spencer turns the key in the lock, opening the doors to his comfortable apartment. He sets his bag down next to the bookcase by the door, shutting it behind him. He goes into his room, taking off his work clothes and tossing them into the dirty clothes hamper. He pulls on an old Star Trek graphic tee and a pair of pajama pants before shuffling back into his living room. He plops down on his couch, staring up at the ceiling. For once, he's not in the mood to read, an absolutely shocking feeling to him.

Sitting up, he grabs his landline, dialing the memorized number for the takeout place next to his apartment complex. He orders his usual and hangs back up before sitting back criss cross on his couch. Spencer's long fingers fiddle with his cell phone in his hand—as much as he loathes technology, this is the one thing he uses to communicate with Y/n, so it's very much useful to him.

As if on cue, the phone vibrates in his hand.

Spencer looks at the caller ID, stomach fluttering as he reads your name. He answers, holding it up to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey there, pretty boy," she says, a smile in her voice.

"Don't call me that," he groans, leaning his back against the couch.

"Oh, sorry; I meant, hey there, baby boy," she teases.

The pet name makes heat flash through Spencer, the blood already rushing down his body. "H-hi."

She laughs on the other end. "What are you up to tonight?"

Spencer bites the inside of his cheek. "Oh, nothing actually."