Hi!! I just adore your work and the way you write!! In your own time would you mind writing a Spencer Reid/OC where Spencer is in the bullpen and just LOSES it. I mean out of this world angry (I would like to leave the prompt a little open for you, so I can see the awesomeness of your imagination (which is completely awesome in my opinion)). And the OC is the only one who can calm him down and everyone is just likthe baby just threw his first fit and they’re all just dumbfounded and at a loss…
Oh my gosh, thank you so much for the compliment! Heh, I can do this! I don’t know how long it will be, but I hope you enjoy it. Here is your one-shot, comin’ ‘atcha!
You felt it coming. You felt it on the plane, you felt it in the air, and you felt when you landed.
The line his life was approaching was coming.
When you had walked into the bullpen for your first day of work, you had been incredibly nervous. Your eyes were dodgy, your palms were clammy, and your knees were clacking whenever you went to stand.
And it made everyone very hesitant to trust you.
What they didn’t understand was that it wasn’t the job that made you nervous.
It was being in such close proximity to your family.
You hadn’t spoken to your family in over 7 years. Ever since you had decided to pursue a career in some sort of law enforcement and had broken off your engagement to the prestigious Dunkenheim clan, your mother had disowned you from the family, stating that “the Y/L/N’s conduct themselves with much more dignity than that of a mere adult.”
You still don’t know what she meant by “mere adult.”
So when you went off to school and your trust fund was cashed out, you took on loan after loan to keep yourself afloat, got a job waitressing and nannying on the weekends, and ended up taking a job with the BAU, who had made a name for themselves after the infamous catch of a man by the name of Foyet.
And when an unsub started tackling the upper echelon of the area, your heart began to race.
Not because you thought your family was in danger…
…but because you knew the team would have to deal with them.
“Y/N,” Hotch says, beckoning you to the hallway.
“Yes boss?” you respond, trotting his way as lines of people with whom you’d grown up with file into the station.
“Your family is on their way, I figured you would want to know they are safe,” he says.
“What makes you think that?” you ask.
And with that, you turn your back on your boss and help Spencer and Derek shuffle everyone into the station.
“What is that smell?” one of them asks.
“Is there any water that isn’t tap?” someone else bites.
“Is that Y/N Y/L/N?” you hear someone whisper.
Sighing as you pinch the bridge of your nose, you feel a hand come down onto your back as it begins to rub lightly.
“It’s gonna be alright, I’ll see if I can keep them-”
Feeling your eyes fly open as Spencer feels your muscles under his hand tense, you slowly turn your gaze as your mother, no worse for wear, comes into view along with your father, your sister, her husband, and her four children.
“There’s my beautiful daughter,” your father says, holding out his arm for you.
But all you do is step backwards.
You hear the room go silent as everyone in your parent’s circle of friends turns their eyes towards your reaction.
“Come on, Y/N…” your mother mutters between clenched teeth, “don’t embarrass us.”
But all you do is stare.
“Y/L/N?” Rossi calls as you turn your head.
“Coming!” you ring out, turning your back on your family and walking away.
As the team begins their ascent up to the office, you shuffle from foot to foot as everyone tries to keep their eyes on anything else but you.
But the anger radiating from Spencer was enough to keep anyone from being less than obvious.
Closing your eyes as you take a deep breath, you hear the elevator doors open as you start for your desk, keeping your head down as you try to blink back your tears.
“Y/N?” your sister asks.
Huffing as she approaches you, you analyze her gait, her petite frame getting closer to you as you shake your head.
Despite the last child almost killing here, she was pregnant.
“I guess a ‘congrats’ is in order,” you sigh.
“Yeah,” she smiles lightly, rubbing her lightly protruding stomach, “yeah, we’re real excited.”
But all you did was nod.
“Y/N…you really need to talk to them,” she urges.
“Sis…don’t,” you say, holding up your hand.
“Look, I never had the fights with them that you did-”
“No,” you spin around, your voice raising, “you didn’t. Because you were exactly what they wanted in a daughter. You were the pageant queen, the petite little red head with the cute facial freckles and the big broad smile. The head turner. The one who is content with popping out children until it kills her-”
“That is enough!” you hear your father roar, his body striding towards yours as he grabs your arm, thrusting you into a wall.
“Just because you don’t want to lose weight and take care of yourself or know your place in this family doesn’t mean you get to demean your sister for it!” he yells, slamming you into the wall.
“Hey!” Hotch yells, grabbing your father as you close your eyes, slinking around the corner and taking off running as Hotch berates your father in the background.
Maybe your father’s show of “affection” would show your sister why you had left and never looked back.
Feeling your jaw begin to tremble, you bring your hand to your eyes, sighing heavily as you feel a hand lightly descend upon your shoulder.
And then? The elevator doors dinged.
You knew who it was.
“Y/N?” Hotch asks.
Taking a deep breath as you turn around, Spencer finds his way behind you as he glares at his boss, your eyes slowly panning over, reddened from crying and tired from the exhaustion as your dead stare settles onto his.
“They have something they want to say,” he says as he steps off to the side, revealing your father and your mother, holding presents.
You hadn’t even realized it was your birthday.
As your father clears his throat, he walks over and hands the little present to you, your hands outstretched to receive it as he leans over and kisses your forehead.
“Happy Birthday, sweetheart,” he whispers.
Your mother just walked over and chucked the present onto your desk.
Looking down at the bright wrapping paper, the corners neatly folded and the bow hand-tied, you slowly look up at him with a furrowed brow as Morgan steps in.
“Your daughter was integral in saving your life, the least you could do is smile at her,” he bites.
As you begin to open the bow, you watch as your mother tugs on your father’s arm, forcefully turning him and heading for the elevators.
You knew it was too good to be true.
Ripping the paper open before they can get to the elevator doors, desperate to prove your point to your entire team, you feel the tears streak down your face as your father’s present bares two DVD’s, one of them a home-based Zumba class and the other a biased documentary on the effects of food in our bodies.
You didn’t even attempt to hold the tears back this time.
You heard someone behind you forcefully unwrapping the paper of the present on the desk behind you as Hotch’s eyes widen, the DVD’s falling from your hand as you hear something being thrown at the wall.
You looked over and saw a make-up kit, its contents splattered all over the wall and the floor.
“That is enough!” Spencer roars, striding towards your parents as you sink to the floor.
“Your daughter is one of the finest agents to ever step foot through these doors!” he yells as he thrusts his finger into your father’s face, “And to stride into her life after years of not speaking only in an attempt to get her to be something that you want her to be is absolutely ridiculous!”
“She pursued us!” your mother raises her voice.
“To save your life!” Spencer roars back.
“We never asked for that,” your father mumbles as your mother grasps onto his arm.
“Then maybe she should have left you all to DIE!” Spencer shrieks, taking a step towards them as everyone’s jaw goes slack.
“Just because your other daughter is petite and smiling, doesn’t mean she’s happy. And just because she’s pregnant even though the last child almost killed her doesn’t mean she wants it. And just because Y/N doesn’t want to lose weight to fit a certain stereotype with your family or waste her time with face-paint doesn’t mean she isn’t beautiful! Your daughter is wild, and free, and independent, and intelligent and selfless and courageous…to a fault. She’s taken bullets for both myself, J.J., AND Morgan, she’s given herself up for our boss’s son when he was kidnapped, she’s opened her doors to us at 3 am when none of us can sleep, and she’s one of the kindest, wisest people I’ve ever come across!”
Even you didn’t realize you were standing to your feet at this point.
“She-…she’s been shot?” your father asks breathlessly.
“Do you even care at this point!?” Spencer shrieks, his voice hoarse as his arms flail.
“That woman,” he says as he points to you, “…that beautiful, incredible, humorous woman…right over there…”
Watching him look over at you as his trembling finger remains outstretched, you slowly stride over to him as you wrap your small hand around it, slowly walking over to him as you lower his trembling arm against his shaking body.
“This woman…” he says, his voice settling as his arm slips around you, your face craning up to him as you smile lightly.
“…is the anchor of this team. And if it wasn’t for your daughter, we would all be dead,” he finishes.
Kneading his tense muscles under your touch, you feel everyone’s eyes on you as your stare locks with Spencer’s your lips puckering as you walk him through several breathing techniques to get him to settle down.
You were familiar with this side of Spencer.
Just…not in public.
“Ssshhh…” you coo, his body relaxing into yours as your hands continue to massage him, his heart-rate evening out as you lean in and lightly kiss Spencer’s shoulder.
“You alright?” you mutter.
And you felt Spencer nod into the top of your head.
“Son?” your father asks, stepping forward, “Are you dating out daughter?”
“No,” he whispers as he shakes his head, “No…but if I ever do…”
Feeling him let go of you as he takes a step towards your father, the two of them standing toe to toe as you hold your breath, you feel your body grow taut as you watch Spencer’s lips part to speak.
“…I’ll make sure to ask Rossi if it’s alright. After all, he’s been more of a father to her than you will ever be.”
And with that, Spencer turns on his heels and returns to his desk, with everyone in the bullpen standing agape as their eyes trail after him.
“Come on, sweetheart,” your mother coos, shooting you a death stare as your father’s red-faced glare follows after Spencer, “they aren’t worth it.”
“Yes,” you pipe up, your voice strong as you turn, watching your parents step into the elevator.
“Yes, they are,” you say as you watch the doors close on them, their noses in the air as their haughty attitudes follow them out the door.
Turning on your heels as you make your way for Spencer, you put your hand on his shoulder as you force him to sit down, scooting a chair up under him as you make him lean back, his head resting on your stomach as your fingers begin to massage his scalp, his lips parting for a delicious moan before slowly working your way down his face.
“Breeeeeeathe…” you coach, watching the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest.
“Holy…shit…” Morgan says, letting out the breath he was holding as J.J. slowly pans her open mouth towards him.
“What the hell just happened?” she breathlessly asks.
“I’ll tell you what just happened,” Hotch murmurs as he comes to stand in between the two of them.
“Our little toddler just threw his first tantrum,” Rossi jokes, wiggling his eyebrows as you shake your head.
You knew how the team perceived Spencer, being the youngest of them all.
But Spencer, in some respects, was more of a man then the ones on the team.
And?…that was a secret meant only for the two of you.