BAU- Spencer Reid x reader

chapter 9- Company

your pov:

I wake up with a headache threatening to nauseate me. I'm on the couch. Why am I on the couch? I guess I had one of those nights where deep sleep makes your forget the events that occurred before you woke up.
I sit up slowly, feeling the soreness in my abdomen. The sight of Spencer Reid with his back to me standing in my kitchen makes my memories of last night hit me like a wave. Did he mean that kiss or was it just a random caught in the moment of compliment type thing?
"Are you... cooking?" I ask, the smell of food making my stomach even queazier.
"Oh you're finally awake," he says, "Yeah. I got groceries this morning, hope you don't mind?"
"Mind? I could kiss you for this," I say like an idiot, not thinking of what I just said. "I mean uh..."
He doesn't say anything, just goes back to his cooking. "You have time to take a shower if you want before this is ready." he says after a while of sizzling being the only noise.
This is probably his way of telling me, 'You haven't showered in days. Please do so, you repulsive woman.' I nod my head and get up from the couch.
I walk upstairs slowly, and turn around to admire his generosity, then continue on my way. I walk past my bed and dresser to the bathroom, and start the shower. The warm water hits my body, soothing my muscles and sore wound. I take the bandages off so I can clean up the area.
The fragrances of my hair and body products are much nicer than that of sweat, blood, and tears. I didn't cry about Harry, when I was awake at least, and I didn't cry about my injury either. I'm used to not crying, but you'd think the sorrow of taking someone's life would cause one to do so anyway.
I step out of the shower and dry off a bit before wrapping the towel around my body. I wipe my hand across the fogged up mirror, making a space to see myself clearly, and unwrap the towel again. Staring at the still red scar on my stomach, I touch it softly. Even this gentle contact hurts. I look for the gauze and bandages on my bathroom counter before realizing I left them downstairs.
I throw on a shirt that I stole from my oldest brother, it's black with fading words and reaches down to my thighs. I sit down to put on a pair of gray spandex shorts, being careful not to rip my wound.
I walk slowly back downstairs. Spencer is finishing up breakfast/ lunch.
"Here you go," he sets down a plate that contains a pancake, some eggs, and sausage.
"How'd you know I like sausage more than bacon?" I ask, knowing he didn't.
"I'm a profiler," he says and I raise my eyebrows, "lucky guess."
I smile at him and sit down to eat with him. I'm hungry but not enough to eat all of this since my stomach is still upset. I eat most of eggs and a few bites of sausage. The pancake tastes perfect, but It's kind of hard to eat.
"Not hungry?" he asks, worried I don't like what he made.
"It's not that, just it kinda feels weird eating right now," I explain. "Thank you though, this was really thoughtful."
He nods his head at me with a small smile.
I get up and grab the gauze off of my kitchen island counter. I turn away from Spencer and lift of my shirt, trying to hold it up and bandage my stomach at the same time.
"I- I can help you," Spencer says, "if you're okay with that."
"Okay," I turn to him. I push myself onto the island counter, trying not to strain myself. I hand the bandages and gauze to Spencer and lift of my shirt. In this moment of embarrassment, I realize I'm not wearing a bra. I be sure to hold the shirt up only to my rib cage.
"It's healing nicely," he assures me.
Spencer delicately bandages my wound, not taking his eyes off of it. When he's done, he still doesn't meet my eyes. Sitting on the counter makes me about 4 inches taller than Spencer. I look down at him, trying to get him to meet my gaze.
"I should clean up the dish-" Spencer says, starting to turn away.
"Spencer," I say and he turns back toward me.
Before he can answer in question, I grab his face and press my lips to his. His body reacts shocked, but he eases up a bit as he kisses me back.
I part my legs so he can come closer. His hips line up with the top off the counter. I run my tongue along the seam of his lips, asking for permission to enter. He gives me access and I gently slide it in. This kiss is slow and gentle, but I'm okay with it. I taste the sweet pancake syrup on his lips.
His mouth moves slowly against mine as my hands tangle into his curls. I push his head more into mine, trying to deepen the kiss but not too much. I want to make sure he's comfortable.
His tongue grazes my bottom teeth, and I make a noise in pleasant surprise. I feel his hands go on each of my thighs, about halfway up. He breaks our lips apart, and his mouth hovers over mine. "Is this okay?"
"It's perfect," I say, opening my eyes and resting my forehead on his. Before I connect our mouths once more, I notice he's on his tippy toes. I smile because, c'mon that's adorable.
This time, each kiss is more passionate and rough than the last. I wrap my ankles around his hips, and one hand of mine stays in his hair and the other roams his back with my nails.
Without warning, he grips his hands under my thighs and picks me up. I laugh in shock. I'm honestly surprised he can pick me up.
He sets me on the couch gently and I'm leaning against the arm rest. He stops for a moment, probably wondering if this was a good idea.
"Do you want to watch a movie?" I ask, instantly regretting killing the mood.
"Sure," Spencer says, regaining his breath.
We pick out a movie that seems interesting. It's horror, but neither of us think it looks too scary.
He stays about two inches away from me as we start watching the film. About twenty minutes in, he pauses it. I see him look over at me with worried eyes. Someone had just shot another person.
"It's okay, Spence. It's never going to get out of my mind, so watching a shooting isn't going to make it any worse."
"You've been through a lot this week, I don't want you to have to see that right now."
I nod my head, not sure whether to thank him or say anything at all.
We just made out and I don't even know what to say to him. Up until these past several weeks, I've only seen Spencer as an important member of the team, and an attractive, shy, genius. Now, he's in my apartment and we just shared a romantic moment. That was romantic right? Why am I second guessing myself? There's no way he couldn't feel what I just felt. I felt more in those few minutes than I did in my entire relationship with Jake.
Now that I think about it, that's terrifying. Too many things happening. I take a deep breath.
"You okay?" Spencer asks. "I'm sorry if you regret that-"
"No, of course I don't regret it."
"Then what's bothering you?"
"Do you have feelings for me?" God I feel like I'm in middle school.
"Didn't I make that obvious?" he asks.
I bite my lip. "I guess, I just... I don't know."
"Your last relationship didn't work out well, so you're nervous."
"I thought we agreed on not profiling each other," I say. "But yeah."
He takes my hand. "I won't let you do anything you're not comfortable with."
"Ditto."
After moments of slightly awkward silence, a smile grows on my face as I ask. "So when did you start liking me?"
"Do we really have to talk about this?" A blush creeps up on his cheeks.
"I wanna know!" I laugh.
He sighs, and I feel accomplished in getting something out of him. "I had a crush on you for a bit, but then I got over it. Then when we went on that fake date with your mom, I realized I hadn't actually gotten over it."
I smile. "That's cute."
"That's cute? That's a way to make a man feel good."
"It's sweet. I guess I realized I thought of you more than what we were about that time too, the whole fake boyfriend thing."
He smiles and looks down at his hands.
"So what now?"
"I'm not sure," I breath.

1526 words:) thank you all for reading!