Spencer Reid possessed an eidetic memory, an IQ of 187, and the ability to read 20,000 words per minute, processing information faster than most could comprehend. As a child prodigy, he grew up isolated and struggled to connect with others, leaving him with lingering insecurities and awkwardness that followed him into adulthood at 41—until he met you.

The night you met was a chance encounter at a dimly lit bar. You’d been out with friends, laughing and enjoying yourself when Spencer caught your eye from across the room. His gaze lingered on you and it made your pulse quicken. But there was one problem: you had a boyfriend. Sweet, attentive, and endlessly adoring. He worshipped you. Yet your gaze kept drifting to Spencer.

That night, something primal ignited in Spencer. He was drawn to the thrill of claiming something that wasn’t his, feeding an unfamiliar hunger. It wasn’t just attraction; it was a desire to possess you. He wanted you to crave him, to keep returning for the pleasure your “perfect” boyfriend couldn’t provide. With Spencer, you felt alive—confident, experienced, and unapologetically himself.

Each encounter only fueled this. He knew that, after every fight, every frustration, you’d come back to him. And he relished that power. Spencer was no young man; he understood the world in ways others couldn’t. Your boyfriend? To Spencer, he was just a boy—a naive placeholder. Whether it was the depth of his intelligence, the subtle scent of his cologne, the way he held his coffee, or the effortless control he wielded in bed, He was undeniably the man in this equation and he made sure you knew it.

Tonight, you open your door to find him standing there, unannounced and unfazed. He steps inside, a smirk on his lips.

“Really, Spencer? What are you doing here? I told you I needed time.”

Spencer chuckles, confident “And yet, here I am,” he murmurs, his voice smooth as he closes the door behind him. No apologies, no excuses—he’s here because he can be, and deep down, you want him here.