Hi, I was hoping you could please write a Spencer x fem!reader where they're hanging out as friends but they get separated and she gets aggressively hit on and is uncomfy. He sees this, realizes he likes her in that way, gets jealous, and steps in to protect her? Please oh please!!!
red flags | S.R.
spencer steps in to protect you from a drunkard
who? spencer reid x fem!reader
category: fluff
content warnings: protective!spencer, bars, alcohol, reader gets very aggressively hit on and is called a bitch and baby doll, reader is explicitly referred to as female (girl, lady, woman), kissing, spencer makes the first move (ooc?), the guy at the bar should be arrested ngl
word count: 1.17k
a/n: i fear i may have verged from the request, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless! thank you so very much for requesting!!!!! <333
Shaking your head, you stood up from the table, “It’s fine, I’ll go up to the bar.”
“Are you sure?” Spencer asked from his seat, looking up at you with big brown eyes.
Smiling softly at him, you grabbed your purse off of the booth seat and walked across the restaurant to the bar. Neither you nor Spencer were really “bar” people, but this place was close enough to Marbury University’s campus that it felt worth your while.
That, and it had been deemed a “townie” bar by your students, so there was a low probability of running into any pupils here.
Dinner with your colleague had eventually turned into your entire night spent in that very booth, now that the kitchen had closed and the waitstaff clocked out for the night, you had to go to the bar to get water.
As you waited for the bartender to notice you, you turned your head back and shot Spencer a reassuring smile. You weren’t sure either of you had been in this situation before – no one wanted the night to end.
Next to you, a man nudged you with his arm, “I’ll pay for the lady’s drink.” Judging by the smell of him, he’d had enough drinks for the entire bar.
“I’m just getting water,” you brushed the man off, holding up the number two to let the bartender know that you wanted two glasses of water.
Naturally, the drunkard next to you didn’t get the message, he continued to pester you, “We can’t have that, let me get you a drink, little lady.”
Demeaning nickname aside, you had no interest in drinking anything this man purchased. Crinkling your nose, you responded, “Thanks, but I’m really not interested.”
He leaned over the bar and looked at you, bright green eyes and salt and pepper hair – your unwelcome companion was probably old enough to be your father. “In me or the drink?” He asked as you tried not to gag at the sheer stench of whiskey on his breath.
Resolutely, you decided not to answer the man’s questions. Your attempts at placating him were obviously not turning out the way you had wanted them to.
“Hey,” he interrupted your thoughts. “I asked you a question,” he prodded.
He was persistent. Persistent men were bothersome, but persistent drunk men were dangerous. Red flags were appearing in your head as you looked over at him, “Neither, I suppose.” Glancing back at your table, you hoped to shoot a ‘help me’ look to Spencer, but he was nowhere to be found.
The man seemed offended at your answer, reaching out to set a hand on your arm. The red flags quickly morphed into sirens. “What, are you some kind of prude or something?”
Despite your attempts to remain stone-faced, your lips parted in shock.
Lowering his head so it was level with yours, he whispered, “I can fuck the prude out of a girl, you know?”
Had he really just said that to you? In a public place?
“She said she’s not interested,” a familiar voice said from behind you as you flicked the man’s hand off of your upper arm.
Your harasser looked outraged as if he was viewing Spencer stepping in as a personal attack. Scoffing, the older man shook his head, “Do you usually butt into other people’s conversations?”
Spencer furrowed his eyebrows in response to the challenge, “Do you usually harass women at bars?”
“Fuck off, dude,” he said. You held back a laugh in response to this man calling Spencer ‘dude.’
Shrugging, Spencer reached out a pulled you away from the man, familiarly setting his hand on your waist. You weren’t sure how long had had been standing behind you, but you were glad he was there. “Why didn’t you?” Spencer retorted easily, you supposed he worked with people like this often when he worked with the FBI.
A confused look contorted the man’s features, “What the fuck do you mean?” He obviously wasn’t used to being stood up to.
“When she asked to be left alone, you didn’t. What makes you more deserving of having your wish granted?” Spencer impugned easily, never moving his hand from where it rested on your waist. Without meaning to, you had backed into him, leaning your back into his chest.
What looked like realization dawned on the man’s face as he nodded. “Oh,” he said, the gravel in his voice causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up.
You peered up at Spencer, “Can we just go, please?” You implored. The bill was paid, you just needed to walk out the door.
“You’re already screwing her,” the man said – far too confidently.
Flinching at his crude language, this time you tugged at Spencer’s jacket to try and get his attention, “Spencer, let’s just go.”
The drunk man shook his head, “No, baby doll. Don’t go. I want to know what he thinks he’s gonna do. Are you gonna stop me from getting to your bitch?”
Before Spencer even had the opportunity to react to his words, you had instinctively grabbed one of the ice waters that the bartender had placed on the mat and tossed it in his face. Maybe it would help him sober up, but it felt good either way.
Reinvigorated, you grabbed Spencer’s hand and dragged him out of the restaurant, not stopping until you were up the street and away from the bar. “What was that?” You mumbled to yourself; you had never lashed out against someone like that.
“I’m sorry,” Spencer said from behind you, causing you to spin on your heel. You peered up at him through mascara-covered lashes as you waited for him to continue his thoughts. “It wasn’t my intention to make him think you couldn’t stand up for yourself, but you looked so uncomfortable out there that I had to step in. Believe me, I’ve seen situations where that exact situation has gone south very quickly.”
You did believe him. Timidly, you nodded in acknowledgment “Thank you, Spencer. I was uncomfortable,” you admitted, “I’m glad you were there.”
Taking a deep breath, you stepped away from him, looking at the street signs and trying to acclimate yourself to your location.
“Do you mind if we take the long way around Third Street? I don’t really want to have to oh-“ You were cut off by the feeling of soft lips on yours.
All night, you had been thinking of ways to make the first move. It hadn’t occurred to you that he would be the one to make the first move.
Slowly, Spencer pushed you back against the brick wall, moving the both of you so you weren’t in the middle of the sidewalk. Shyly, you reached up and wove your fingers in his hair as he kissed you as if his life depended on it.
Leaving you breathless, he pulled away. “As it turns out, I don’t mind taking the long way around. At all.”
