Spencer Reid | One Shots

hold me tight or don't

I can't not be with you.
Or be just your friend.
I love you to death, but I just can't pretend...

My heart races as he pulls me to his hotel room. The chances of getting caught were too high. Hotch or someone could come out at any second...

When I started in the BAU, Spencer and I had some...tension. Sexual tension that the both of us acted on during a work trip with just the two of us.

We were lovers first.
Confidants, but never friends.
Were we ever friends?

It's a constant now. It seems like every time we travel, Spencer is pulling me into his hotel room in the middle of the night. Or vice versa.

I'm in his room within seconds and he closes the door, pushing me up against it and kissing me hard. His hands go straight for the buttons on my top, fumbling with them and breaking a few off. It's not the first time that's happened. I've ended up having to sew my buttons back on more times than I'd care to count.

My hands go for his tie, pulling the knot loose and undoing it before pulling it off of him. I toss it aside and start with his buttons, being careful not to break them off.

The same question rolls through my mind. It's one that I've been thinking of non stop since the last get together we had.

Is this just sex for him?

I let myself get caught up in feelings when I probably shouldn't have. I can't help but to feel like my world is revolving around him now. How I love hearing him talk, I love seeing him smile. I want to spend nights with him and cook him breakfast in the morning. I want to go to movies with him and take impromptu road trips...

Maybe I'm attached to him, like a kid with a stuffed animal.

When your stitch comes loose,
I wanna sleep on every piece of fuzz and stuffing that comes out of you.

And when we're not together, I'm thinking about him constantly. Thinking about his touch, the feeling of his hands on my body. His voice, the way it sounds at different points of the day. Rough and pitchy in the morning, clear in the afternoon...

Thinking about his gorgeous brown eyes and how they seem to darken when he looks at me.

I've took too many hits off this memory.
I need to come down.

How much longer can I keep it up? I want to scream that I love him, but...

What if he doesn't feel the same?

Another day goes by...
So hold me tight.

I'm on the bed now, and he's tugging my skirt off of my hips.

"Spencer," I breathe out. "Stop...stop, please."

Hold me tight or don't.

He freezes immediately, looking down at me. "What is it?"

I swallow the lump in my throat, sitting up and grabbing a pillow to cover my bare chest.

He looks confused. "You're covering up..." He notes. "Something's wrong, Y/N. You're not comfortable with me anymore?"

The boy takes a seat next to me on the bed.

"I...I, uh..." I try to figure out what to say, but every single word gets caught on my tongue. I want to hold back because I don't want to fuck everything up. Even if this is just sex...I'd rather it be that way than not have him at all.