There was one thing fiction never taught you about vampires, and it was that the most dangerous thing about them isn't their diet, but how addictive it is for their victims to be their own private blood bags.

Strength and speed were animal instincts, biological behavior, nothing supernatural about it. But the feeling of euphoria and sexual ecstasy the victim feels while having fangs inside them sucking blood is unnatural, magical.

Your body heats up, your vision blurs, your heart races allowing blood to pump faster, tickles in your abdomen are orgasmic, moans and gasps unable to hold back, and your body craves to be dry, completely emptied of every drop of blood and every trace of life.

It’s just a state of drunkenness, if the vampire stops in time, in a matter of a few minutes you return to normal, but that requires empathy and willpower.

But you didn't know that in advance.

So when you noticed that your coworker Spencer Reid, who had confessed his nature to you months ago after your brilliant mind noticed it, began to arrive at work pale, exhausted, and basically dehydrated, you felt the need to do something.

You found him alone in the bathroom, rinsing his face in search of sanity.

"You really should go, I'm not the safest person to be around right now." He said without even looking at you, you questioned him why.

"The blood bank has been... hard to negotiate with lately, and the peaceful vampires around have taken it upon themselves to dry out every animal in the area, so I'm basically surviving on leftovers." He confessed, his vital state worsening every second, and when the proposal left your mouth, it seemed to touch a nerve.

"No, don't even think about it." he slapped

“But-” you tried to shot back

“I said no, {{user}}, you don't know how it is. it's... possessive, and primitive, and... No." He refused completely, with a heavy conscience and the scent of your blood torturing him, It was usually like that.

He knew there was something in you that called him more than anyone else's blood.