Spencer Reid: Oneshots

Wanna Bet?

Summary: The ever so competitive couple, Reader and Spencer, form a bet around who gets flustered more easily and takes it to the "extremes."

You sat next to your boyfriend, the two of you under a blanket, watching a movie.

"Okay, I can't watch this anymore," Spencer said, breaking the silence.

You hit pause, facing him. "What's wrong?"

"Nobody acts like that in real life!"

"Like what?"

"They're so dramatic, they cry at every inconvenience, and they blush whenever someone says anything remotely nice—"

"You do that," you teased.

"Do not!"

"Do too! I look at you, and you blush."

"That's so not true." You raised an eyebrow. "See? I'm not blushing right now."

"Because you're prepared."

"Am not."

"You totally are."

"Well, you blush whenever I'm in a 10 foot radius of you!"

You scoffed. "You're reaching for it."

"Not at all."

"Alright, wanna bet?"

"I'm listening."

"48 hours, free for all, who can blush the least? I'm keeping an active tally."

"We can like do stuff to each other to make it happen?"

You leaned up close to his face. "Anything." A small pink colour rose to his cheeks. "Y/N-1. Spencer-0."

"I wasn't ready!"

"Never will be." You patted his head, standing up. "May the odds be ever in your favor." You saluted him, backing into your room.

"What are you doing?"

"Work," you replied in a monotone voice, already preparing for a possible attack.

"What work?"

"Let's use that big brain, shall we? I illustrate children's books, I'm clearly drawing, put two and two together." You smiled.

"I just wanted to talk to you."

"That's not working on me." It sort of is.

"I'm not trying anything."

"I'm not falling for it." You avoided his gaze, which rested on you. Those damn eyes.

"You're not looking at me."

"I'm focused."

"Or you know you'll lose."

You stared directly into his eyes, thinking of the saddest thing you could think of to avoid a blush. "See?"

"I wasn't even trying." He stood up. "I have to go call Hotch, he needs a consult."