drunk — spencer reid
pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: spencer is drunk and is spilling things about your relationship content warnings: established relationship, drunk spencer, the team mocking them a/n: i've never had a sip of alcohol so if i made any mistake i'm very sorry honestly i just went of what i've seen in tv shows, movies and books
You sat nestled in the corner booth of the bar, sipping your soda. The ice clinked softly against the glass as you absentmindedly swirled the straw, half-listening to Garcia and Emily’s gossip.
Their conversation faded into the background, however, as your attention drifted elsewhere, specifically, to the two men across the room. Spencer, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, was talking at a rapid pace, gesturing wildly with his hands as Derek grinned at him, clearly entertained. Your brows furrowed as Derek slid another drink into Spencer’s hands. You sighed, not bothering to hide your disapproval.
“What’s up with you?” Emily asked, her head tilting slightly as she sipped from her drink.
“That.” You nodded toward the scene unfolding across the room.
Emily followed your gaze just in time to see Spencer take another eager gulp of whatever Derek had handed him. A second later, Derek’s mouth dropped open before he burst into laughter, clapping Spencer on the back like a proud older brother.
“Yeah… Morgan’s having way too much fun with drunk Spencer,” you muttered, narrowing your eyes at them.
Spencer, completely unaware of your scrutiny, continued rambling, his hands moving faster than his words. Meanwhile, Derek's smile just grew bigger and bigger.
Garcia snorted. “Oh, come on, it’s adorable.”
You weren’t sure if you’d call it adorable. More like mildly concerning. Because if history had taught you anything, drunk Spencer Reid was unpredictable, and God help anyone who had to deal with him when the alcohol finally hit its peak. And from the looks of it, the moment was about to happen or based on Derek's grin , has happened already.
“What is he doing?” you mumbled, eyes narrowing as you watched the two of them. You had a bad feeling about this.
Garcia glanced at you with a smirk. “Sweetheart, we are at a bar. That’s what people do. You know… drink?” She gestured pointedly at your own glass.
You scoffed, lifting your soda in mock acknowledgment. “Yeah, well, some of us have to drive,” you muttered before taking another sip.
Before Garcia could quip back, you caught movement out of the corner of your eye. Derek had turned toward you, a slow, knowing grin spreading across his face.
Oh no.
Your stomach dropped. “Oh god,” you muttered.
Oblivious to what was happening around him, Spencer continued rambling, hands flailing dramatically. You watched, unamused, as Derek made his way over to you, his smirk growing wider with every step. Trailing beside him, Spencer was entirely oblivious. He barely paid attention to where he was walking, nearly stumbling into Derek at one point, but that didn’t stop him.
When they finally reached your booth, Derek didn’t even bother with pleasantries. Instead, he kept his gaze locked on you, his grin downright devious.
“You don’t say?” he mused, clearly continuing whatever conversation Spencer had been having, though it was obvious his real focus was on you. Spencer finally seemed to register where he was, his hazy eyes flickering to you. He blinked, as if surprised to see you there.
“Hi,” he said, his voice slightly softer than before.
Before you could respond, he slid into the booth beside you, well, more like half on top of you. He scooted in so close that his thigh was practically draped over yours.
You stared at him. “Hi.”
He grinned, leaning in ever so slightly, the scent of alcohol and something distinctly Spencer clinging to him. His eyes, glassy but bright, studied your face with open admiration, like he was seeing you for the first time all over again. His curls were a mess, strands falling over his face, making him look even more disheveled than usual. You reached up instinctively, tucking a stray lock behind his ear, but he barely seemed to notice.
“Seems like you’re having fun,” you murmured, shifting your gaze to Derek, who was watching the interaction with barely contained amusement.
Derek simply shrugged. “Guess so.”
You turned back to Spencer, who was still staring at you, completely dazed, his hazel eyes glassy and unfocused, like you were the most fascinating thing in the room. With a chuckle, Derek turned his attention to Garcia and Emily, leaving you to deal with your very drunk boyfriend.
“You okay?” you asked softly, tilting your head as you brushed more of his hair out of his face.
Spencer hummed in response, his eyes fluttering shut for a second before he blinked them open again. “Mhm.”
You let your fingers linger in his curls, absentmindedly threading through them, and Spencer melted under your touch.
“What were you telling Derek back there?” you asked, keeping your voice gentle, watching as his eyelids drooped slightly.
He mumbled something incoherent before finally managing, “M’don’t remember.”
Before you could press further, he sighed contently and let his head drop onto your shoulder, his body going slack against yours. Your hand was still tangled in his hair and you felt his breath fan against your neck as he let out another sleepy hum.
Now Garcia and Emily were both staring at you, matching grins on their faces. You frowned.
“What?” you asked warily.
Emily’s smile widened. “Oh, nothing. It’s just… Spencer had a lot to say about you.”
On cue, Spencer lifted his head from your shoulder at the sound of his name, his movements slow and a little clumsy. You turned to him, raising an eyebrow.
His brows furrowed in concentration, as if trying to grasp onto a fleeting thought. “I remember now,” he said, dragging out the words, squeezing his eyes shut like that might help jog his memory. “I think.”
You waited, not sure if you wanted to hear whatever was about to come out of his mouth.
“I told them… about how much you like touching my hair,” he finally said, his voice a little too loud, like he was completely unaware of the fact that everyone was now hanging onto his every word.
Your mouth fell open. “What?”
You whipped your head toward Emily, Garcia, and Derek, who were all watching you with knowing smirks, looking way too amused for your liking.
“Oh, and I told them about how you—” he paused, blinking a few times, “—always trace patterns on my back when you think I’m asleep.”
Your face burned.
Spencer, oblivious to your horror, continued, his voice dreamy and soft. “And how you always steal my cardigans, even though you claim they drown you and make you look ridiculous. But I know you secretly love wearing them.”
Derek let out a full laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, this is gold.”
Garcia sighed dramatically, clutching her chest. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”
You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Spencer, why—”
He leaned in even closer, his lips nearly brushing your ear as he whispered, though it wasn’t much of a whisper at all, given his current state—“And I told them that you—”
You slapped a hand over his mouth before he could say anything else. Spencer blinked at you, wide-eyed, and you felt his lips curl into a grin against your palm.
“Okay, Spence, I need you to stop talking now,” you said firmly, your hand still covering his mouth.
Spencer blinked at you, his hazel eyes glassy with amusement. Slowly , hesitantly , you removed your hand, watching him like he was a ticking time bomb.
Then you turned to your friends.
“Don’t,” you warned, narrowing your eyes as Derek parted his lips, no doubt ready to deliver some smart remark.
Derek smirked. “But—”
“Don’t say anything,” you groaned, already exhausted, cutting him off with a pointed look.
Emily took a slow, deliberate sip of her drink, her expression entirely unreadable as she observed the chaos unfolding in front of her. Penelope, however, was a different story.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed, placing a hand over her heart as she looked between you and Spencer like you were her new favorite romance novel come to life. “This is adorable. I mean, we knew you were soft for our resident genius, but this?” She gestured at Spencer, who was still pressed against you, his head once again finding its way to your shoulder. “This is next-level domesticity.”
You sighed, “I am never letting him drink around you guys again.”
Spencer hummed sleepily against your shoulder. “M’not even that drunk.”
Derek let out a loud laugh. “Oh, you so are.”
Spencer attempted to lift his head in protest but gave up halfway and settled deeper into your side. “M’just happy,” he mumbled, and if your heart didn’t squeeze at that, you’d be lying.
Emily set down her drink, eyes glinting with mischief. “So, what else does our drunk genius have to say about you?”
You shot her a glare. “Emily.”
Spencer, on the other hand, perked up slightly, as if the question had unlocked another memory.
“Oh!” he said suddenly, lifting his head, a dreamy smile spreading across his face. “I also told Derek about how you always fall asleep on my chest when we watch movies, even though you swear you never fall asleep during movies.”
Derek actually clapped at that one. “Man, you are so whipped.”
You buried your face in your hands as Garcia gasped dramatically, reaching for Emily’s arm like she might faint. “They’re so disgustingly cute! .”
Spencer, now clearly on a roll, turned his dopey, love-struck gaze back to you. “And I told them—”
You groaned. “Spencer!”
He grinned, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Love you,” he mumbled sleepily.
You patted Spencer’s thigh three times, a silent I love you, too, acting as if you weren't melting completely on the inside. You weren’t about to give your friends any more teasing material.
“We’re going home,” you announced, realizing how sleepy Spencer was getting.
Derek groaned dramatically. “Oh, come on. We wanna hear more.” His grin was absolutely wicked.
At that, Spencer lifted his head slightly, as if he was about to continue his drunken confessions. You shot him a look, a playful but very clear don’t even think about it kind of look. “Spence.”
His lips parted like he was going to argue, but instead, he let out a soft hum and dropped his head back onto your shoulder, completely surrendering.
Derek laughed. "Man, he's totally wrapped around your finger."
You ignored him, instead rubbing soothing circles into Spencer’s back. His eyes fluttered closed, and he was half-asleep, his weight pressing into you completely.
“One word about this at work,” you warned, shifting your gaze between the three of them, “and I’m never talking to you guys again.”
Emily smirked over the rim of her glass. “Oh, sure. No words at work. Can’t promise about the PowerPoint presentation Garcia is definitely going to make, though.”
Garcia gasped, scandalized. “Emily, you know me so well.”
You groaned. “I hate all of you.” Derek chuckled, waving you off. “Nah, you love us.”
Spencer hummed sleepily. “Mhm. Love them.”
You sighed, adjusting him slightly. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get you home, Dr. Love-Confessions.”
“Okay, come on,” you sighed, scooting Spencer out of the booth. He stood, well, wobbled, barely managing to keep himself upright. You steadied him with a hand on his arm as he instinctively laced his fingers through yours, clearly unwilling to let go. His drunken state had made him extra clingy, but you weren’t exactly complaining.
Turning back to your friends, you gave them a pointed look. “I’ll see you all at work,” you said, voice laced with warning. “Where we’re only going to have professional conversations. Got it?”
Emily smirked, raising her glass in mock agreement. “Oh, sure. Definitely professional.”
Garcia let out a dramatic sigh. “No gossip whatsoever,” she said, not even trying to sound convincing.
Derek just grinned, shaking his head. “Yeah, good luck with that.”
Meanwhile, Spencer was barely paying attention to any of this. His eyes had glazed over, staring blankly into the distance as if lost in thought, or maybe just lost in general. You exhaled, already exhausted and thinking of calling in sick.
“You,” you said, pointing a finger at Derek, “you get to pay for both our drinks.”
Derek’s eyebrows shot up, realization dawning on him. “Whoa, hold up—”
“Nope,” you cut him off immediately, shaking your head. “Not happening. You let him get like this, you pay for it.”
Derek let out a laugh, looking at Spencer, who was still in his own little world. “Man, I didn’t force him to drink.”
You shrugged. “Don’t care. Enjoy the bill.” You tugged Spencer’s hand, leading him toward the exit.
“Bye,” he mumbled sleepily, barely loud enough to be heard. His steps were slow, and his body felt heavier against yours.
You pushed open the door with your free hand, the cool night air rushing past you. Spencer let out a quiet sigh at the change in temperature, his grip on your hand tightening just a little. Without thinking, you started tracing slow, comforting circles with your thumb over his skin.
Spencer hummed softly, leaning into you as you walked toward the car. “Feels nice,” he mumbled.
You glanced at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah?”
“Mhm,” he nodded lazily, his curls falling into his face again. “You always do that.”
“I guess I do,” you smiled softly at your boyfriend, your heart warm as he squeezed your hand tighter. Spencer didn’t seem to notice how tightly he was holding onto you as you arrived next to your car. But when you tried to pull your hand out of his grasp, he made a small noise of protest, a soft whimper that almost made you stop in your tracks.
“Spence,” you said gently, “I need to look for my keys.”
His hand reluctantly loosened, but his gaze never left you. You opened your bag, rummaging through the contents, your eyes scanning for the keys.
“You usually keep them in your front pocket,” Spencer mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.
You froze, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, right.”
Without missing a beat, you reached into your front pocket, feeling the familiar jingle of your keys. “Thanks, Spence,” you murmured, more to yourself than him, as you unlocked the car. You quickly moved to open the passenger door, holding it wide. “Okay, come on. Sit down.”
Spencer gave you a sleepy, lazy look but you gently tugged him towards the car, your touch soft yet insistent. His steps were slow, and as he started to get into the car, you reached up to guide his head down so he wouldn’t hit it on the top of the doorframe.
“Head down,” you instructed, your voice a little more authoritative than usual, though the affection in your tone made it clear you were only looking out for him. Spencer let out a soft, obedient hum as he finally slumped into the passenger seat. His body collapsed back into the seat like a ragdoll, eyes heavy.
“Good,” you said, closing the door behind him, watching as he settled into the seat, already half-asleep. As you slid into the driver's seat and closed the door behind you, you glanced over at Spencer. His head was resting against the seat, eyes shut, his expression soft and peaceful. You couldn’t help but feel a little bad for disturbing his rest.
“Do you want to go to your apartment?” you asked quietly, glancing at him as you started the car.
Spencer’s voice was barely above a whisper when he replied, “I wanna stay with you.”
You paused, looking at him, his face relaxed, eyes still closed as if he were half in a dream. Your fingers itched to reach out, and you gently brushed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. He hummed contentedly at the contact, leaning into your touch without even realizing it. You smiled softly, your heart melting at how utterly endearing he was. “Okay. We’ll go to my apartment, then.”
You drove in silence for a few minutes, just listening to the soft hum of the engine and Spencer’s breathing. It wasn’t long before you arrived, and as you parked in your spot, you glanced over at him.
He hadn’t moved, still in the same sleepy position, his head leaning against the seat.
“Spence,” you said gently, turning off the car. “We’re here.” All he did was hum in response, barely acknowledging you.
You sighed softly, knowing this was going to take a little effort. Stepping out of the car, you closed your door quietly before making your way to the passenger side. When you opened the door, Spencer was practically asleep, his head resting against the seat, lips slightly parted. He looked so peaceful, you almost felt bad for waking him.
“Spence,” you muttered, reaching out to touch his shoulder lightly. He didn’t budge.
You frowned, leaning in slightly, careful not to hit your head on the car frame, as you gave his shoulder a firmer shake. Still nothing.
“Spencer,” you said a little louder, this time with a touch of amusement in your voice. Finally, he stirred, cracking one eye open lazily.
“Hi,” you greeted with a soft smile, watching as he blinked sluggishly.
He let out a slow breath, rubbing his face with one hand. “We’re here?” he mumbled, voice thick with exhaustion.
“Yeah,” you chuckled. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”
Spencer groaned lightly, shifting in his seat as if even the thought of moving was too much effort. You reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “I’ll help you, but you have to stand up, Spence.”
With a deep sigh, he finally nodded and let you pull him to his feet. He swayed slightly, and you immediately steadied him, wrapping an arm around his waist.
“Whoa there, genius,” you murmured, adjusting your grip. “Let’s not face-plant in the parking lot.”
Spencer huffed out a sleepy chuckle, leaning into you more than he probably realized. “You’re warm,” he muttered.
You rolled your eyes, but your smile never faded. “Yeah, well, let’s get you inside where it’s actually warm, okay?”
“Okay,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper as you guided him inside the building. He leaned into you slightly, his steps slow and heavy. As you waited in front of the elevator, you tapped your foot lightly against the tile, watching the numbers slowly descend. Then, out of nowhere, Spencer spoke again, his voice soft but certain.
“I like you a lot, you know that?”
You turned to look at him, surprised by the sudden confession, but the sincerity in his hazel eyes made your heart melt. His gaze was a little unfocused, heavy with sleep and alcohol, but the emotion behind his words was crystal clear.
“I know, Spence,” you said, smiling warmly as you reached up and brushed his curls away from his face again. It was something so simple, yet something you always found yourself doing. He leaned into your touch instinctively, his body seeking out your warmth.
The elevator doors finally slid open with a ding, and you gently tugged his hand to lead him inside. As soon as the doors shut, Spencer sighed and rested his head on your shoulder, his body completely relaxed against yours.
“You smell nice,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your jacket.
You let out a soft laugh, wrapping an arm around him for support. “Thanks, Spence. You smell like alcohol and bad decisions.”
He chuckled sleepily, barely lifting his head. “Bad decisions? No, no. Liking you is the best decision.”
Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you just stared at him, warmth spreading through your chest. Even drunk and barely coherent, Spencer Reid somehow managed to be the sweetest person alive.
The elevator doors opened, and you shook your head fondly, guiding him toward your apartment. “Come on, Casanova. Let’s get you to bed before you pass out in the hallway.”
Spencer let out a hum of agreement, still clinging onto your hand like he never wanted to let go.
You let go of him just long enough to unlock the door, pushing it open before guiding him inside. As soon as you shut it behind you, Spencer immediately reached for you again, clinging onto you like he had no intention of letting go.
You sighed fondly, helping him shrug off his jacket while he clumsily toed off his shoes.
“Okay, Spencer, just a couple more steps,” you encouraged, wrapping an arm around his waist as you led him toward your bedroom.
When you reached the bed, he sat down heavily, sighing as his body sunk into the mattress. His eyes scanned the room, though they were hazy with sleep. “I like your room,” he mumbled, as if just realizing where he was. You smiled softly, watching as he flopped back against the pillows, his head sinking into the plush fabric.
“Me too,” you murmured, standing by the edge of the bed as you watched him.
Spencer’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, but then, with a small, sleepy smile, he peeked up at you again.
“You know… I think my favorite thing about your room is that you live in it,” he said, his voice thick with exhaustion but filled with sincerity. Your heart swelled at the unexpected sweetness of his words.
You shook your head with a soft laugh, brushing his curls out of his face once more. “You’re such a sap when you’re drunk, Spence.”
His smile grew just a little. “M’not drunk,” he mumbled, already halfway to sleep. “Just in love.”
You felt warmth spread through your chest as you pulled the blanket over him, watching as he relaxed further into the bed.
“Go to sleep, Spencer,” you whispered, but the smile on your lips never faded.
