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busy woman

spencer reid x reader

Being an FBI agent was already time consuming, being a busy female FBI agent with a pretty face? Didn't make finding a partner any easier. Question was, were you really busy or were you waiting for the right man? wc: 4.8k tags: fluff! slightly suggestive (?) author's note: i was so excited to finally attempt this idea, hopefully i executed it well! ───────────────୨ৎ────────────────

Maintaining a dating life was hard while being an FBI agent. Being an FBI agent and female? Dates could become very entertaining once you revealed your job of choice. Most men were arrogant or didn’t believe you until you pulled the badge out of your purse. Other men were very opinionated at the fact that a woman of all people would be able to join the FBI. All this meant that majority of dates fell flat, and you didn’t even concern yourself about the comments they spilled at the dinner table. You enjoyed your job, you enjoyed helping people, why should it matter what a man who worked in a cubicle crunching numbers said?

Penelope, with the help of Emily, liked to sign you up for dating websites, sometimes with or without your knowledge. Which meant that occasionally after a long day, they’d be pushing you out the door while telling you all about this ‘great guy’ they knew who was waiting to meet you at a restaurant near by. Now, you were far from desperate for a boyfriend, clearly you were doing fine getting by on your own. Yet, you recognized the way men looked at you, even during cases, no matter what area of the country you were in, a man would always come up to you with a trashy pick up line or an outright vulgar comment.

You were no celebrity, but you were quite the eyesore for someone who belonged to a group of the FBI. But, your job was more important than your dating life, clearly having no time for it anyhow. The rest of the team knew how hardworking you were, always staying later in the office filling in reports or working hard to add more to profiles. So, when they suggested to get drinks on a Friday night, you thought twice about your answer.

“Come on, one drink is not going to kill you,” Emily nudged as she sat on the edge of your desk, looking down at the way you typed quickly, your eyes still on the computer screen. “Well, that date that you and Pen sent me on last night did, I need to catch up on what I missed” the constant clacking keyboard at high speed making her ears ring.

She sighed as she looked around the office, “Even Hotch is joining us tonight, he knows we all deserve a break after that last case” she said in a persuasive tone, almost trying to inflict some fear of missing out in you. Your typing stopped abruptly, now swivelling your chair towards where she sat. “Fine, one night only” you gave in once you saw her pleading eyes, she would have persisted even if you hadn’t agreed. A smile grew on her face immediately, already on her way to go tell the rest of the team you would be joining.

Once work was officially over, you hesitantly got up from your desk and closed your computer, wanting nothing more to stay back and continue. After grabbing your coat and purse, you made your way to the glass doors of the BAU. Half the team were already standing there, laughing away at something said between Penelope and Morgan. “And there she is, the busiest lady of the century” Emily bumped your shoulder, to which you rolled your eyes at the comment. “Sorry for wanting to get my work done in advance guys” a small smirk made its way onto your face.

“She’s not wrong,” Spencer began as he came up behind you, finally arriving to the group. “Technically, it’s better to finish everything first so while you’re out, your brain focuses less on what still waits for you once you return” he explained, gesturing with his hands as he spoke to which you allowed your eyes to linger on the movement. The whole group was stifling their laughs behind your back, “Exactly, thank you for understanding, Spencer” you threw a smile his way, turning around to the rest of the group once more. “Now, where’s boss one and two?” you joked with a hand on your hip.

As if they heard your question, the two finally appeared, hesitancy written all over Hotchner’s face meanwhile Rossi looked excited to talk over drinks. Finally, you made your way down the building and down the street to the local bar. You were one of the firsts in the booth, sitting in the middle with Spencer squished beside you. “Sorry, Penelope’s a little pushy” you whispered in his ear, the amount of noise around the two of you increasing. He watched the way you place your hand delicately on his arm as you continued speaking in whispers. “What do you want to drink?” You leaned back now, looking for his reaction to your question. His brows furrowed, eyes averted from your face to which you took as deep in thought.

Yet, the dim lighting was helping his case, the heat rising from his chest and up his neck at the way your hot breath had fanned his ear. He now approached you slowly, steadying himself by placing his hand on the edge of the table, bringing his own mouth to your ear, “What are you having?” You leaned back, yourself now deep in thought, you hadn’t even thought that far, your mind still on the documents that waited on your desk. “I think I’m just going to have a margarita,” your hand still rested on his arm as you answered his question straight into his ear.

The rest of the team busy, Penelope joking about doing body shots off of Morgan, JJ waiting to go ask the bartender the order, and the rest trying to convince Penelope to not do body shots off of Morgan. “I think I’ll just have a club soda,” Spencer approached you once more, knuckles white as he gripped the table, voice practically quivering at the continuous warm breath tickling his neck.

You backed away for the last time, a smile resting on your face as your glance went from him to JJ across the table. Raising slightly, now leaning over the bar’s table, your voice louder than the other conversations below you, “a margarita and a club soda!” JJ gave you a nod, walking off to the bartender to give him the table’s order.

The team now turned to you, Penelope giving you a knowing smirk with Morgan’s arm over her shoulder.“So, how was last night’s date?” She raised her eyebrows suggestively, to which you deadpanned at. “You’re not serious, that man didn’t even last through dinner! He asked me what I do for a living, I told him I work for a unit in the FBI, he thought I was trying to gaslight him.” Your brows furrowing the more you spoke, not wanting to willingly recall the previous night. “Really…?” Her face fell slightly at your words, she truly thought she had found you a good match.

Spencer beside you now speaking with Hotchner on something work related, ever the over worker, just like yourself. You held an ear out for the conversation, more interesting to you than the men who constantly thought your choice of a job was unsuitable for a woman with your looks. “Anywho, truly stop signing me up for blind dates because if one other man takes up my precious work time, I might have to set fire to your precious computer room, thanks Pen!” She gasped playfully, knowing there’s no real malice behind your words.

Thankfully for you, the drinks arrived and you were quick to grab yours. You weren’t an alcohol enjoyer usually, but a few drinks after back to back stressful cases did aid in soothing the mind. But, after shooting down a couple of margaritas, you somehow found yourself on the dance floor of the bar with the ladies of the team.

“God, do I love this song!” You said a little too excited as you swayed your hips, hitting every beat to the typical 2000s song that played through the speakers. Dancing in somewhat unison, Morgan was watching from the table with a grin growing on his face. Rossi and Hotch paying less attention, nothing new from you ladies, but would still claim responsibility over all of you like the good father figures they were. Spencer couldn’t keep his eyes off you even if he tried. And oh, did he. Morgan caught this, a deep chuckle erupted from his chest at how lovestruck Spencer seemed as he watched the way you moved.

He couldn’t even recognize the tense woman who was either always glued to her office chair or with files fused in her hand as she now danced with her hair down. Mouth slightly agape as if he couldn’t believe the sight, Morgan scooted closer to Spencer, “you’re staring” he teased as he set down his half empty glass. As if he snapped Spencer out of his gaze, he jumped slightly at the sound of the voice beside him. Red ears gave him away, clearly he had been caught as if he thought he wasn’t being obvious.

“Whoever ends up with that one is a lucky man,” Morgan continued almost to get more of a response out of the man sitting next to him. “If only she’d take the time to really find a guy, she’s always working late. It’s like that cubicle is her second home.” He took a swig of his drink, watching the way Spencer seemed to want to speak up on your behalf, almost as if to say “what’s so wrong with being dedicated to your work?” Morgan knew Spencer well enough to know he thought of you as highly intelligent and responsible.

Out of the group, you always gravitated towards the so-called ‘pretty boy’ of their team. Almost two peas in a pod, you constantly had both your noses buried in files, and got along splendidly as he had observed from the way you spoke together during the plane rides to cases in other states. Penelope and Emily seemed to be in the dark about how he felt about you, Morgan keeping his observations to himself. He would’ve like to tease Spencer more about it, having the whole team pestering him to the point where he would have had enough and out right tell you how he felt.

“Now, Penelope seems to think she’s uninterested in dating, but from what I’ve seen, that girl’s waiting for the right man to come along” Spencer caught the glimmer in Morgan’s eye, almost as if to hint at something the former didn’t know. He cleared his throat, looking into his own glass of clear liquid, gulping at the thoughts that roamed in his brain unwillingly.

Did he wish he had a chance with you? Of course, you were truly a sight for sore eyes and you were such a joy to be around once he finally got past your shyness. He enjoyed nothing more than your talks in the early morning when the office was still somewhat empty, handing over a cup of coffee just the way you liked it that he happened to have time to pick up.

You were always thankful for how observant he was with you. He knew you through and through, the way you took your coffee, the snacks you liked from the vending machine and how you constantly had your files organized in alphabetical order, even as they laid on your desk waiting to be reviewed.

So, now as he sat in the bar’s booth looking at the way you enjoyed yourself on the dance floor. Hair flying free, hips swaying, drink still in hand and raised high as you dipped slightly in your kitten heels, he had never seen a more beautiful sight. The song ended too quickly much to his chagrin, now making room for you to sit back down next to him as you approached the table. A stumble in your step and giggles pouring out of your lips indicated the amount of alcohol you had that night, much more than your typical dosage.

“God, that was so much fun!” You exclaimed, setting your empty glass down on the table a little too hard. The other ladies also seemed a little dazed, leaning on one another as you now leaned your body towards Spencer. “Why can’t more men take me out dancing? Now, this is my kind of date” you complained in Penelope’s direction which she answered in a cackle, setting you off to laugh alongside her.

He welcomed the warmth that was now rubbing up against him, the scent of your shampoo still lingering. Hotchner and Rossi had already left due to the late hour, the booth now containing more room than there was initially. Yet, you still kept yourself close to Spencer, like two magnets. Or at least that was what Morgan was thinking as he watched the sight before his eyes. Spencer wanting nothing more than to evaporate into thin air at that very moment due to the way Morgan was staring, almost as if to say “see? she wants you pretty boy.” Which meant nothing to him because you were drunk and clearly not in the right state of mind to be intentionally leaning up against him.

And now somehow, you ended up in the passenger seat of Spencer’s car. The radio was playing low, some classical music that must have been coming from a CD he inserted earlier in the day. Almost acting as an anchor for him to keep his head steady on his shoulders and not look at you beside him. As he got in the car earlier, he watched the way the moonlight shined on your face, the way your lips glistened due to the copious amount of chapstick you consistently applied, even while drunk.

The peak of the song brought him back to the road, he was still in the midst of driving after all. It’s not the first time he had brought you back, the last time after a long case trip where you had forgotten your car keys in the already locked office. You brought him back to the moment as you finally spoke up, the sounds of your shifting in the seat alerting him that you were in fact not sleeping.

“Men truly suck, you know?” Your words were slurred slightly, head leaning against the rest looking in his direction. Your eyes trailed along his profile, from his forehead to the slope of his nose, to his lip until the tip of his chin. Until now, you never really allowed yourself to look at him so directly. He didn’t answer your question, almost sounding rhetorical because he already knew the answer. Yes.

“Even the ones that I like,” you paused for a beat, taking a large breath “they don’t notice that I like them and you would think they would, right? I mean look at me,” you huffed. He was clearly trying not to. Especially with how you were now crossing your arms over your chest, accentuating your figure and the curve of your breasts in your tight office blouse even in the dim lighting of the night. He cleared his throat, eyes darting back to what mattered. Driving. The road.

You continued to ramble, ignorant to the thoughts swirling in his mind, “but he’s so completely oblivious and I’m tired of it” And he paused at your use of a pronoun, luckily arriving at a stop sign. The street was deserted, so he stayed a second longer than he needed to.

“I didn’t know you had your eye on someone,” he gulped, swallowing his feelings down. Even if it was obvious through the tone of his voice, you clearly didn’t acknowledge it in your drunken state. Of course you had found someone you liked. Penelope and Emily with their never ending blind dates were bound to work one day. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, reminding him back to how he gripped the table in the bar, ensuring to not lay a hand on you like you had him. He still can feel the ghost of a touch on his arm, the way your hot breath tickled his neck as you whispered ever so gently.

Sadly, he didn’t get an answer in response because he had now arrived at your front door. He quickly parked then ran across to open your door, wanting to help you up out of the passenger seat safely. At all the thoughts that swarmed his head, he attempted to shake them away. He didn’t get jealous. He was calm and cool-headed. As he grabbed your wrists, he pulled you up and out of the car. Took you a few seconds to balance onto your feet, still wobbling as he closed the car door behind you. “Where are your keys?” He asked as he kept a close arm on the middle of your back faintly.

You suddenly lifted your arms after walking up the front steps of your home. “Search me” he recognized the tone in your voice. You were teasing him even in your drunken stupor. “Real funny,” your actions enabling a smirk on his face, now illuminated by your porch light. You fluttered your arms, yet he watched the look on your own face. The playful smile that rested on your lips matched the arch of your brow.

He saw you in such a different light earlier, carefree and nowhere near like the overworking girl in the cubicle next to him. But now, at the sight of you being playful with a hint of vulnerability to your actions, he liked this version the most. Clearly showing signs of trust towards him, you wanted him to take the time to search you. He couldn’t tell if you would do this with anyone else, and he knows he’ll never know the answer to that question either.

Yet, he followed your instructions regardless, delicate hands passing down your arms through the pockets of your coat. The action itself bringing him closer to you, now looming over you as his fingers dug through the pockets, eyes staring into yours making the process seem more intimate than it truly was.

Before he knew it, you leaned forward just barely and he couldn’t tell if it was due to the moment or the fact that you were still off balance. Yet, he still wouldn’t allow himself for this to be the moment where he met your lips for the first time. He would feel as though he took advantage of you, despite you being the one to approach him first. He just couldn’t do that to you.

He backed away, hands now resting on your shoulders to stop your action before you regretted it the next morning. Well, that’s if you’d even remember tonight. You narrowed your eyes at the action, not really having any awareness of what you’re doing in the current moment. “Did you find my keys?” You mumbled, body leaning against the hold he continued to have on you. Freeing one hand, he jingled the keys in front of you with the other, a tight-lipped smile on his face.

He opened your front door, leading you inside safely and then up to your bed. You practically dived into the mess of sheets, heels falling off as you kicked your legs in a childish manner. Spencer had never truly entered your room. Sure, he’s been to your house when you hosted for the group every so often.

You were busy, but you never seemed too busy for your fellow teammates. Somehow always making time to invite them over for holidays, yet still grumbled about all the work the following week would present you with at the dinner table.

He admired the paintings hung on your wall, he didn’t peg you for the art collector type. The faint glow of your bedside lamp illuminated your already sleeping figure, he stared at the way your hair spread across the pillow. Tucking your legs underneath your covers, he then closed the light and stood there for a moment.

Almost as if a thought that he didn’t want to follow through with had occurred in his mind, he quickly glanced away from you. He made his way downstairs and locked the door behind him, driving away with warmth spreading through his chest as he relived the moments of tonight.

The next morning was extremely unpleasant. The drive to the BAU was filled with traffic, the pounding headache had lasted throughout the entire ride, and the sun was too bright for a morning like the one you were having. Grumbling to yourself as you walked to your cubicle, for once you were annoyed with the amount of work that rested on your desk. The other girls of the group were in the kitchen, you could hear the collective groaning from where you put your bag down.

“Great, so it’s not just me who feels like exploding?” You voiced as you rubbed your forehead, your free hand grabbing your mug from the cupboard to finally have your morning coffee. In unison, you all winced at how loud the cupboard closed. Morgan walked over from behind, a large grin on his face like he just won the prized pony.

Penelope groaned, “it’s not funny, mister” then took a sip of her coffee. “Oh, but it is babygirl, you should’ve seen you ladies dancing last night” a chuckle left his lips as he held his own warm mug in his hands. Your eyes widened, “there’s no way that’s true…” you stated as you poured milk into your coffee, the dark turning a now milky brown. He gave you a curt nod, that smug smile still on his face.

“Please tell me we didn’t do anything embarrassing…” you lamented, your head down in defeat as you awaited to hear what he had to say. “You girls were wild, dancing on tables, twirling around with your fruity drinks in your hands, it was a crazy sight” he began as Spencer approached. You looked over to him now, eyes practically pleading. “Please tell me what he just said isn’t true,” to which Morgan gave Spencer a little nudge.

“It isn’t true, but there was a lot of dancing involved” he answered with his hands in his pockets, unsure why Morgan was now giving him a look. Emily sighed like her dignity was saved, hand on her chest as she held a relieved look on her face. With your mug in hand, you walked over to your cubicle, not wanted to hear more about what happened the previous night.

Spencer eventually arrived back to his own desk which was situated beside yours, his own steaming mug resting on a coaster. Instead of sitting down and getting back to work, he came to stand next to you. “You stated that you were sick of men,” he began which startled you, still not fully there mentally.

“Excuse me?” You raised your brows, not understanding where this was coming from. Not that the words he uttered were shocking, but more the lack of context at his remark. He nervously crossed his arms in front of his chest. “When I drove you home, but the whole night if I’m being honest” he continued, finally clueing you into what transpired last night.

You shook your head, “wait- you drove me home last night?” the grip on your mug tightening as you furrowed your brows. His eyes widened, you really didn’t remember much from the previous night. “Oh… yeah you said something about some guy you had your eye on not noticing your advances” he paused for a second, almost trying to recall your exact words as if he didn’t have an eidetic memory. “You said that even the ones you want to notice you don’t, you seemed pretty bummed… despite being obviously pretty buzzed.”

You groaned, head hitting the back of your chair as you looked up to the dull ceiling. “Yeah… well, I guess that’s just men” the sigh that left you was one of frustration, he watched the way you seemed to be in surrender. “I have no doubt someone will eventually be the right guy, you’re just too good for all of us” he had let out a small laugh, nervous but coming off as dry. Your eyes trailed to his face, the anxious expression that was written all over it as you studied his features.

Suddenly, you remembered doing the same action the night before in the passenger seat of his car. “I didn’t know you had your eye on someone,” the words now ringing in your head. Had he truly not noticed the way you acted around him? Sure, you weren’t all over him at every given moment. But he must have noticed how different you were around him than around the others, right?

He continued to talk about the conversations that transpired in the bar’s booth, but you began to tune him out as your eyes narrowed. You followed his movements, the way his hands mimicked the words he was saying, and the tilt of his head as he spoke. You gulped, just now getting another flashback to the way his hands searched your jacket prompted by you even though you would never be that forward in a million years.

You always had the mindset of work coming first. If there was free time, there was more work to be done, even if that was outside of the office. So, when Penelope and Emily first approached you with a blind date you begrudgingly gave it a try, already having it in your mind that it was a waste of time. And you were right. But not only because the man was as dull as they came, but you already had your heart set on someone who understood the workload and stress of the job.

Never having the courage to act on it though, the brief moments of your racing heart was the only thing you allowed yourself to enjoy in your few moments of break. You never permitted yourself to more than just those few fleeting seconds, was that why he never noticed? It was an unconventional way, you knew that. But, you had hoped it would seem a little more noticeable than it actually was.

“Spencer,” you spoke up, stopping him mid sentence. You mustered up the courage to put a hand on his where he sat on the edge of your desk. “You know,” you began, slightly tremble in your voice despite the extreme amount of confidence flowing through your system at the very moment. “For you, I’m never busy” you looked up into his eyes, searching for an understanding to what you’re attempting to say. “You’re the exception from my own rules, got it?” The slight tilt of your head is when it finally clicked in his head, almost as if it put an emphasis on your words.

Were you actually trying to let him know that you’d rather be with him over engulfing yourself in the multiple files that scattered your desk? Hinting that you would leave the busy life you’ve built for yourself to spend time with him? He searched your eyes, noticing the way your brows furrowed and the small smile that appeared on your face as he explored your features. It was like deciphering a code of some sort, trying to understand the meaning behind your wording.

You weren’t one to be outright bold, he knew that. He knew you. Your advances for anything were timid and reserved, just like yourself. So, now that he cracked the code of you, what was he going to respond? He wanted it to be obvious to you in a way that only the two of you would understand.

“You’re willing to accommodate for me?” A smirk made its way onto his face, accentuating the weight of his words. The smile on your lips grew at his comprehension. Now placing your hand in his, the same one from moments before, he intertwined your fingers discreetly. “Well, I’m glad you can make room for me in your busy schedule” he voiced, his thumb caressing the back of your hand as if it was already second nature.

You gulped at the gesture, never allowing yourself to feel more than this. Sure, you’ve dreamed of it, but only during the allotted hour of break you had scheduled daily during work. Now, those fantasies can be a reality with him at your side, maybe eventually slowly shedding that constantly occupied mindset as time passes on.

“Now, I need you to tell me what other stupid things I did last night” you leaned back into your chair as you continued to share warmth through your intertwined hands. “You sure you have time?” His own face now concerned, you had just sat down to begin the day. You shrugged, “I’ve got time” your smile now beaming in his direction, allowing yourself to relax and be in the moment. Those color coded files can wait another fifteen minutes.

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