Supercut [ spencer reid x reader ] ✔️

XVI.

I like to imagine this as Spencer's face when he finds out JJ's a LYING BITCH.

Your hand stays suspended in mid-air, the sting from the slap radiating through your palm. JJ's hand reaches up to clutch her quickly reddening face. You hear Prentiss gasp; JJ's head turns to look at you. You glare at her, your hand moving to rest by your side, clenching into a fist.

"What the fuck, Jennifer?" You say through clenched teeth.

"Agent Y/l/n—" Hotch starts.

"No," you seethe. You keep your eyes on JJ, eyes cold. "This is your fault."

"You can't put the entire blame on—"

"Are you kidding me?" You whip your head toward Hotch. "What did she tell you? Because I can guarantee you, if she told you the truth, you wouldn't be defending her, Hotch."

Spencer's voice rings out from behind you, feeling him take a step toward you, his hand brushing your lower back. "She said you were going to talk to the man by the lake, and she said that she told you that you can do what you want, and then you left."

Your loud laugh echoes around the open air. "Oh my god, Jennifer Jareau, are you kidding me?" You continue to laugh, shaking your head. "I mean, if you're gonna lie, you should do it with your whole fucking chest." A humorless smile spreads across your face, looking at Hotch. "Do you want to know what really happened?" You feel Spencer's hand press more firmly against your back, trying to calm you down. "I told her we should go talk to the man at the lake because he might've seen something, you know, to do the thing you sent us there to do in the first place. Do you know what she said when she cut me off?" Hotch's eyes meet yours, and your smile fades, replaced with a twisted frown. "She said, 'I don't care what Hotch said.' Word for word, sir."

"What the hell?" You hear Spencer say from behind you. You know if you turn around, all you'd see is rage and confusion on his face.

Hotch's eyes flick to JJ, and you turn your gaze back to JJ, who looked like she was close to tears. "You put my life in danger because of, what, JJ? Jealousy? Grow up." You shake your head. "I don't see how anyone on this team can trust you after what happened today. I certainly don't." You look back at Hotch, fists still clench. "Now if you'll excuse me, sir, I'm going to get checked out by the medic. I think I need stitches."

You leave the team standing beside the SUVs, storming over to the ambulance. You sit on the edge of the rig as the nice EMT—Marcy, her name is—stiches up the cut above your brow. You wince slightly as her palms brush against your black eye.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," she says softly, finishing up the stitch.

"It's alright, Marcy," you reply.

She cleans up the cuts on your arms and torso, the alcohol stinging, and you inhale sharply. You stare at the ground as she cleans the cuts, a pair of Converse entering your vision. You look up to meet Spencer's gaze, a soft smile on his face. He's holding his FBI jacket, and he pushes toward you. You look down at your tattered top, thanking him as Marcy backs up.