sociopath - spencer reid. ✔️

| 19

19. what happens now?
18+

    UP close, Spencer could see how dilated Aeyla's pupils were—maybe from the alcohol or whatever else was going on in her mind—he didn't know. When it came to Aeyla, Spencer never understood the things going on inside her brain—he often just sometimes went along with it all.

But tonight, there was something in the air, and he knew he wasn't the only one who felt it. Maybe for Spencer, it was caused by the frustrated feelings of jealousy from back in the car ride; all was on his mind was just proving that he was better than everyone else.

And obviously, this sense of competitiveness inside of him was completely useless—due to the fact that Spencer knew Aeyla was going to call barista boy no matter what—but still. Some tiny part of Spencer wondered if she'd ever look at him other than a friend or some comfort tool. These feelings were just so confusing all the time—he wasn't sure what to even do with them anymore, and whether or not it was even worth pursuing.

But right now, that was all on his mind. Pursuing, whatever the hell that exactly meant—Spencer just knew that whatever Aeyla had put him under was really messing with his head, practically cutting his IQ in half and leaving him brainless and frozen. He said nothing when her hands slid around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

"How much fun, Spencer?" She asked him again, and Spencer swore his heart went to a complete halt, his eyes widening.

He sat there, his mouth opening and closing in a pathetic attempt to say at least something, but it went in vain the moment Aeyla closed the distance, attaching her lips to his jaw. Spencer's breath hitched at the sensation, his eyes fluttering closed and head tilting up in response to wanting more.

Excitement coursed through his veins when Aeyla moved down to his neck, kissing it softly. He sighed softly, finally regaining movement in his muscles and reaching up to place his hand on her hip. Spencer, still slightly panicked, glanced at Aeyla's wine glass, glad to see that she barely had drank any of it. This wasn't the alcohol—this was her.

The man swore he nearly fainted when he felt her hands sneak between their chests, picking at the buttons on his shirt. "What are you doing?" Spencer croaked out, his hands scrunching up the fabric of her shirt. Aeyla stopped three buttons down to expose his chest, lifting her head to look at him in the eyes. Upon meeting those bright blue eyes of hers, Spencer felt every single ounce of hesitation leave his body, not even caring about the possible consequences of doing this anymore.

A small smirk made its way up to her face, expression filled with confidence in contrast to the amount of anxiety going through Spencer.

"Helping you have fun. If you want." Aeyla said softly, her eyes filled with the mischief that he adored. Her lips to his neck once again, and this time—a whole shudder ran from Spencer's spine, the man immediately clamping down on his bottom lip. He felt her lips part, teeth grazing over his skin. Spencer sighed again, running his hands up and down her sides, feeling her ribs beneath her thin shirt.

"I don't know, I think I'd rather play chess..." Spencer muttered, slowly regaining his confidence back as he touched her.

"But that's not fun for me." She complained against his skin, chuckling devilishly.

"And this is fun for you, I'm assuming?" He asked her, reaching up and tangling a hand in her hair, holding the back of her head in place to feel the warmth of her lips for a little longer.