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bellasweetwriting · 3 years

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RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN COWORKERS

spencer reid x f.reader

(not my gif)

masterlist

plot: After months in the BAU, Spencer and you still don’t seem to get along.

prompt: “if I was in a room with Hitler, Napoleon and you, and I had a gun with two bullets, I’ll shoot you twice”

warnings: enemies to lovers, hate, angst, everything you can think of

note: it’s the fact that I went into a mental breakdown for almost a year and I hadn’t wrote anything... hehehehe

It was no secret Spencer and you never got along.

It all started when you first got in. You guys seemed to bond about music and movies, yet when the work started, you guys had complete different versions of what was right.

You were spontaneous, Spencer was calculated. You weren’t much of a talker, Spencer couldn’t shut up. You followed your instincts, Spencer followed data. Both of you had good ideas, but you never agreed with each other.

The whole BAU could see it, so you guys weren’t hiding it. This whole messed up organization in work killed any chance of you and Spencer ever becoming friends outside of it. The team was your family, and you love family... doesn’t mean you have to like them.

Spencer and you didn’t like each other, but both of you still cared for the other.

Sometimes, as you yell «I hate you», you don’t mean it, but when you say «I love you», you are completely joking. You don’t mean any insult, but you definitely lie in every compliment. You care for each other, but you are not friends.

You are like an old married couple that has to put up with each other, and for some reason, Hotch loves to team them you guys up in every case, maybe because the team gets entertained every time you guys have to do something together.

It’s not common to see Spencer Reid getting angry, and he always gets angry with you.

"Okay, Y/N, Reid, I need you to stay here. You got victimology. I need you guys to find a connection between this three girls."

You looked at them. They had nothing in common. Not even their eye color. Why would a serial killer have such a messed up victimology? It wasn’t a type.

You and Spencer were left alone in the police station, in the conference room where the team had set up. While Spencer was reading every bit of information about the victims, you were bouncing around, thinking about the three girls.

"Would you stop?" Spencer asked you and you paused your bouncing. "I’m trying to read... and actually work."

"I’m working, Doc," you argued before placing your index finger against the side of your forehead. "I’m using this to figure out the connection between these three girls. What are you doing?"

"Reading about the three girls and not waiting for a divine signal from the sky!" He snapped before looking down. "You are so difficult."

"You are so boring!"

Spencer has never hated someone as much as he hated you.

"Look, my mom told me to never be rude to people, but I just have to say this: If I was in a room with Hitler, Napoleon and you, and I had a gun with only two bullets, I’d shoot you twice."

You scoffed. "No, you wouldn’t. I actually save people by stopping serial killers. You’d be letting two of the worse dictators in history alive so they can kill..." But you stopped yourself before sitting next to Spencer. "Hand over the files..."

Spencer followed your request and you opened them in a hurry, taking out the class schedules for each girl.

"They all are into this tutoring program," you started reading. "They get personal classes. Brittany, the first victim, was written up from History Lessons, and the other two got English classes from the same tutoring program. These girls didn’t know each other, but they—"

"Could have the same teacher," whispered Spencer. "It’s the same tutoring couch, this guy..."

"We need to call Hotch," you mumbled. "We may have our unsub. Call Garcia, check if he fits the profile."

Hotch not always pairs you up so he can get free entertainment, but because he knows you guys do a great team. By annoying each other, you get out your best qualities into the light. You push each other to be better profilers. And you don’t realize it as you guys keep bickering each other, but if it wasn’t for the other, you wouldn’t be as good profilers as you are now.

After the case, more likely after Spencer and you cracked it up in almost fifteen minutes, you were sitting in the jet ride back home, reading a book as you were trying to stay awake.

The fact that you were reading something caught Spencer’s attention. The way you kept pushing your hair away from your face so you can read better, or how you would yawn, but refuse to sleep. He imagined you were arriving to an interesting part.

Spencer stood up, walking towards you. "I love that book. Did you arrive—"

"Shut up, Reid," you cut him off before yawning a bit. "Don’t ruin it for me like you did with The Phantom of the Opera."

"That ending was obvious. You’re a profiler!"

"How to Kill a Mockingbird?"

"Okay, that one was on purpose," he admitted as he sat down, you toes almost touching his leg from under your blanket. "I won’t ruin it for you this time."

You smirked before closing the book. "We did well today, catching that unsub."

"If we hadn’t bickered at each other like we did, we would have taken longer," pointed out Spencer. "Maybe, someone else would be dead."

You couldn’t help but to smile. "Are you calling us «superheroes», Doc?" He rolled his eyes. "I’m definitely a superhero, like Batman. You’re the other guy."

"I’m definitely not Robin."

"I know that! You’re my butler, Albert."

"Alfred," he corrected and you smiled.

"So you agree... I’m Batman and you’re Alfred."

He let out a sigh. "I’m out of this conversation."

You liked to make fun of Spencer, it was actually one of the things you liked about the job. You cared about him, even if you didn’t like him.

And that’s why sometimes you doubted. If you hate someone... why care about their well being? Is it like caring for someone of your family when you don’t actually like them? Was it like that with Spencer?

The next day, as you arrived to the office, you noticed how in your desk there’s a box with chocolates and a bouquet of flowers, and for a second you wished it was from Spencer’s.

That thought went away as fast as it came.

"Someone got their Valentine hooked already," mocked Derek as he noticed the present on your desk. "Who’s Cupid’s victim?"

"No one," you replied before reading the note. "Their from Alex, that guy I dated."

"Why is your ex boyfriend sending you flowers?" Asked Spencer as you tossed them in the bin before opening the box of chocolates.

"Because I’m unforgettable," you answered quickly before letting yourself fall on your chair.

Derek scoffed. "Yeah, right."

"It’s true!" You argued. "I date them for two weeks, give them the best sex they’ve ever had, get them hooked and then, before I catch feelings, I remember I have the busiest and most tiring job that exists and can’t date them. So... they stay in love with me knowing... I’ll never have time for them."

"Everything you just said makes me think that you have commitment issues," snapped back Spencer and you rolled your eyes before sticking out your tongue. "How matured," he mouthed, mocking you.

You turned to look at Derek. "I need to date a guy I can see every day without it affecting my work."

"So... date someone from work," offered Derek before walking away.

You thought about it for a sec before scoffing. "That’s a terrible idea."

"Actually, most successful couples—"

But you stopped him. "Don’t «actually» me, Reid, I’m not interested in your facts."

"I was just going to say... dating people that you work with or that have the same career as you increases your chances of a successful relationship. You share with someone that understands what you do. Simple logic."

You glanced over him. "So, you’re suggesting I should date someone from work?"

Spencer stood up from his desk with files in hand. "I’m saying... the statistics would be in your favor if you decide to do so."

And with that, the young genius left, leaving you with a lot of doubts.

• • •

The team and you were staying at a hotel that night for the new case they were involved in. You were quick to get in your room and toss your suitcase on the side of the bed before jumping on it, closing your eyes.

You were tired, you wanted to sleep, you wanted to rest so you could scream at Spencer the next day with the biggest amount of energy possible.

But your mission was interrupted by a knock on three door.

"Coming!" You yelled before opening the door of your room, looking at Reid standing there. "You got the wrong room. This isn’t the entrance to Dorkland."

"Very funny," he said sarcastically. "I just... About the whole... two bullets, Hitler, Napoleon... I... I didn’t mean it."

"What?" You asked in confusion. Was he apologizing for a joke?

"I wanted to make sure you knew that I didn’t mean it, that’s it, don’t read much into it."

"Yeah but why are you making sure I know you didn’t mean it? You’ve never done that before."

He exhaled. "I feel like... back at the office, we had a conversation when we didn’t insult each other hurtfully. It’s the first time we’ve had one and I kinda enjoyed it... don’t make fun of that."

You smiled. "Spencer... just because we don’t agree in work method doesn’t mean we have to hate each other till death, you know? I think... discussing our points of view could actually makes us better profilers if we stop degrading the other. Don’t you think?"

"Yeah, you may be right," he whispered. "Can I come in?"

"Why?" You asked in confusion.

"I studied more about relationships between coworkers and I want to talk to you about the upsides and downsides about dating between—"

But you interrupted him. "Spencer, is there any other reason besides apologizing that you came to my room?" But he shook his head. "Okay... let’s pretend I believe you."

But you didn’t believe him. You didn’t believe him at all.

Spencer was hiding something.

• • •

After a week of you and Spencer hanging out a bit more, you started realizing he wasn��t so bad after all. That all of that hating turned out to be more about your work rather than each other.

You realized you worked better together rather than apart, and stopped complaining every time Hotch assigned you with each other. That stopped entertaining the team.

But it was at Rossi’s game night when it changed for the first time.

When you say Reid as more than a colleague, or even a friend.

As something else.

By the way he would make Emily blow on his hands when he had the dices in between them before tossing them on the board with excitement, or when he knew the answer to each and every question, because he had memorized the entire game. By the way he would get excited every time he had something right, and angry every time the other team got something correct.

You liked Spencer Reid.

It took you long to figure out.

The next day, you approached his desk in a hurry, holding that study about relationships between coworkers between your arm and waist.

You were ready to date Reid.

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