Spencer Reid: Oneshots

You Seem Tense

Summary: Reader and Spencer are put into a tense position—in more ways than 1.

You glanced at the clock, frowning.

You and Spencer might not have been best friends, but you were pretty sure that he should be home by 1 am. Of course, having been his roommate for the past 2 months, you were pretty aware of his obscure work schedule, but he tended to warn you if he was on a case.

Your friends always teased you for rooming with a guy.

"Oh god, Y/N! You're like one of those shitty romance novels!"

"They're good romance novels," you murmured in response. "But it's not like that. We're broke, and he's never even home. Who cares?"

"Give it a few months."

You rolled your eyes at the remark and continue to do so. You barely knew the guy, he was just constantly out FBI-ing or whatever he did.

Spencer was like the ideal roommate too: always gone, orderly, never brings anyone home and keeps you up at night. What else could you ask for?

You weren't going to lie though, the guy was incredibly good looking. One of those people who is an absolute dork but in the most attractive way possible—you figured he'd be one hot professor in the future.

"Where is he?" You whispered to yourself, closing your book and glancing at the time. 1:37 am.

You looked at your phone, no messages from the boy.

"Maybe he's finally getting some," you snickered, returning to your book. "No, it's Spencer." You shut the book, dialing his number.

"The number you have reached is not available."

"C'mon, Spencer..." You dialed in the digits again.

"The number you have reached is not available."

"Jesus—"

"The number you have reached is not available."

You groaned, tossing your phone aside.

Ring, ring.

You snatched the small device, answering. "Hello? Spencer?"

"Hi, my name is Dr. Haymeir. You're listed as Spencer Reid's emergency contact, is that correct?"

"Erm I guess so, yes." You paused. "Wait? Emergency? Is he okay?!"

"He's recovering well."

"Recovering? From what?"

"He was grazed by a bullet."

Your jaw dropped. "WHAT!?"

"He's at St—"

"I'm on my way!" You hung up, grabbing a coat and scarf and sprinting out the door.

"God, are you okay?" You walked over to Spencer, who was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Fine, really. It's just procedure."

"You act like you've done this before." You frowned. "You have, haven't you?"

Spencer nodded, smiling sheepishly.

You sighed. "I thought you were like dead or something."

He laughed softly, wincing momentarily. "I'm fine—I'll be fine."

You sat down next to him, awkwardly playing with your bag. "I didn't know I was your emergency contact."

"Oh, yeah, I'm sorry. I changed it because I didn't wanna keep bothering my coworker with those stupid procedural calls, I can change it back—"