spencereid-reads

[spencereid-reads]

juno | s. reid

word count: 2.2k words // warnings: fluff, kissing, mentions of sextoys, condoms, improper use of fbi handcuffs. this one gets suggestive and was supposed to have smut but i'm too scared to write it. there's some breeding fantasies in there i think. probably continuation issues, i started this last week when i first listened to sabrina's new album and wrote chunks of it on different days. not proofread!

kindashy!spencer x shy!reader

to put it quite simply, you felt like you'd hit the jackpot.

for once in your life, things seemed to be going in your favor. this was the closest to perfection, you were sure of it.

you'd recently moved into a great apartment, with a perfect view of the district from the balcony. your apartment had a balcony, not just an old fire escape you'd used as one on your previous buildings. you'd been offered a promotion at work, which you obviously accepted and enjoyed your days at work more and more with each passing day.

the best part though, you'd been on a few dates with a guy who was just perfect.

the foolish part of you, fueled by all the romance novels and rom-coms you liked to watch on sundays, was already picturing a whole life with him, and with someone like spencer reid, it was hard not to.

he was something straight out of a fantasy, tall, slightly awkward but sure of what he wants, attentive and never once making you feel insecure. and he was so, so gorgeous, with big brown eyes that made you swoon, curly hair that begged you to run your fingers through the soft strands.

not only was he absolutely gorgeous, but his personality was what really sealed the deal for you.

date after date he set the bar higher for himself, five dates were enough to accept being exclusive, wanting to try something serious.

after five dates where you talked about everything, where he listened and asked about your interests, your dislikes, your thoughts on movies, where he confided in you about his life and past experiences, the downside to being a child prodigy, five dates were enough to know that no matter how this ended, you’d never have anyone like spencer reid in your life again.

“i don’t want this night to end,” you admitted as he walked you to your apartment door. you’d just gotten back from dinner and a walk through the park, to celebrate two whole months since you became spencer reid’s girlfriend.

“me neither. but you need to sleep, otherwise you’ll be grumpy in the morning.” he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. he made you wish you could have so much more time together than just two months of spencer reid being your boyfriend.

“i like my sleep. but i think i like you more,” you press your back against the door, inviting him in, to you.

“somehow i don’t want to test that theory,” he made you laugh, cradling your face in his hands as he leaned in and kissed you.

soft, full of want and longing, one of his hands cupped the back of your head, you tilting it back as your back arched against him. your hands wandered over his sides, down his chest, the slight tremble of his body against your hands made you feel powerful. the thought that he wanted you as much as you wanted him, was as affected by a brush of touch as you were.

“i- um, i should go. wouldn't want to keep you up,” spencer cleared his throat, pressing soft kisses to your cheek.

you knew it was basically impossible, but spencer was so dumb if he thought you'd be able to fall asleep right after this.

“okay,” you replied, hands fisting the soft material of his shirt before letting go, “text me when you get home?”

“of course. good night,” he pecked your lips once more, taking his time as he moved away from you.

“night, spence,” you whispered, your hand finding his for one last touch.

he pulled your joined hands up to his lips, kissing your knuckles, you swore your heart was beating out of your chest.

that night you dreamt of his lips on yours, his hands exploring, adoring your body, you felt something other than butterflies in your stomach, something new and exciting, hotter.

a week later, your best friend sarah sat on your couch as you told her everything that had been going on between you and spencer. when you showed a few pictures you'd taken of him, and the two of you together, she actually high-fived you as you giggled, excitement filling your body.

“i don’t want to get my hopes up so much, so soon, but-” you bit your lip, heat flushing your cheeks as you recall the kiss you’d shared the last time you saw each other, on the other side of your door. he'd been called in to help on a case with the bau and would be arriving that night, “he makes me wanna fall in love. make him fall in love with me, i-” you shook your head, it was stupid to be this infatuated with someone so soon.

“well if he’s managed to get you this lovesick so soon, i say go for it. get your man, who cares that it’s only been two months?” she shrugged her shoulder, sitting next to you and wrapping an arm around you, “i’ve seen you through all your stages, and i’ve never seen you like this. you deserve to be happy, and from what you’ve told me, it seems like mr fbi makes you happy.”

“it’s dr.” you corrected, smiling as images of him filled your head, when he explained his extensive college degrees.

two days later, you finished doing your hair, waiting for spencer to arrive. since he’d been lecturing more often now, it’d been easier to schedule dates with him, and his eagerness to see you as soon as possible made your heart almost beat out of your chest.

you rushed to answer the knock on the door, the familiar pattern spencer always knocked against your front door caused an almost pavlovian response in you.

“hey,” you smiled, opening the door wider to let him in. “what’s that?” you asked, looking at a medium-sized pink box with a bow wrapped around it.

“it was on your doorstep,” he handed it to you, you frowned, grabbing it and read a yellow post-it note glued to the top.

‘to my beautiful friend and dr. fbi, be safe and have fun ;)!’

you immediately flushed, seeing sarah’s familiar handwriting. you shook your head with a small smile.

“everything okay?” spencer asked, taking a step toward you as he closed the door behind him. “do you know who sent it? if not i could probably-”

“yes, don’t worry, thank you. it’s from sarah, uh- my best friend i told you about?”

“oh, right, the wedding planner?” you nodded in answer. “what is it?” he asked, taking off his coat and hanging it next to your mess of handbags and coats, removing his shoes as well. making himself at home.

“i don’t know, uh- it’s- for the both of us,” you swore your cheeks could not get any hotter, as spencer stood next to you, a hand on your shoulder as he leaned in to read the small note.

“oh.” was all he said, his thumb rubbing circles on the exposed skin. “should we- uh, see what’s inside?”

“um, yeah, i just… i don’t know what it could be, and i apologize if it’s something inappropriate, i-”

“it’s alright, let’s just see what it is,”

with your heart in your throat, you undid the bow and lifted the top.

“oh, my god.” your cheeks burned, your chest not too far behind, and you heard spencer breathing in sharply.

inside the pink box laid a ton of condoms, in different sizes, a small pink vibrator, something that was supposed to be a set of lingerie, but was so small and transparent that you were sure you’d be better off wearing nothing. and to top it all off, a pair of pink, fuzzy handcuffs. another note rested below them.

‘i’m not sure if the fbi has something against improper use of official handcuffs. use these ones meanwhile.’

you were going to die. scratch that, you were going to kill sarah and then yourself.

your trembling hands shook the box in your grasp, your whole being was screaming at you to toss it away, to cover it back up, to hide in your bedroom. but you stood there, frozen, still aware of spencer’s hand on your shoulder.

“i’m- i- i’m so sorry, i-” you managed to snap out of your shock, tossing the box on the couch and covering your face with your hands.

“hey, it’s okay- it’s-” he cleared his throat, “it’s an interesting gift, uh-”

“it was inappropriate and i should’ve- i should’ve checked before and…” you kept your hands cradling your burning cheeks, looking up at spencer and feeling your eyes burning too.

“it’s alright. i’m not offended or anything, i promise, besides i don’t think she did it with bad intentions, um- it seems like, uh, quite the opposite,” he cleared his throat once more, one hand moving to scratch the back of his head, and you noticed a pink tint in his cheeks, he was just as nervous as you were. “they don’t, by the way.”

“sorry?”

“the- uh, the bureau.” he clarified, “they wouldn’t know if i uh- were to use the handcuffs for, um-”

“oh.” you breathed, “that’s uh- good to know, i guess. yeah.” you answered, your mind wandering to places it definitely shouldn’t have.

“hey.” he called, standing in front of you, grabbing your hands in one of his, the other one raising to hold your face. “i know we haven’t talked about… uh, sex- yet, but- we won’t do anything until you want to. and if you don’t want to use any of this stuff we won’t either. the condoms, yeah, of course-”

“i’m on the pill.” you blurted out, and immediately regretted it.

“okay, but still, i’m not opposed to wearing condoms, yeah?” he reassured you, “let’s talk about something else, okay? i can feel how warm your face is. there’s no rush, i promise.”

“yeah?” you asked, getting lost in the change of his eyes, worried and soft, hopeful. “thank you.”

“of course. you don’t have to thank me,” he leaned in, pressing his lips to your forehead, and just like that all the uneasiness inside you melted away. “you good?”

“i- yeah. sorry for- freaking out i- i just didn’t know how you’d react to this, and i don’t- i don’t want to ruin this.”

“you didn’t. god, no, honey.” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “i’ve never felt this way before,” he admitted, “if anything i’m the one who should be worried about ruining this, with all my past and all the trauma.”

“spencer, i don’t care about that- i li- i like you just the way you are.”

“exactly, you don't judge me for my past, or make me feel self-conscious about it. and i like you just as you are too. sweet and shy, and all flustered for me.” he placed his hand on your stomach, “breathe, deep.” he instructed, “in, hold it, out.” you followed his lead, somehow unaware of how uneven your breathing was, though it didn’t surprise you. “and now i’m going to change the topic of conversation because i don’t want you to pass out on me, yeah?”

you laughed at that, shutting your eyes and shaking your head slightly, when you opened them back up, you were met with his soft, tender eyes looking at you intently.

“hey,” spencer said, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close. your arms, on instinct, found their place on his neck.

“hi.” you murmured sheepishly. “i didn’t even say hello to you properly.”

“that’s alright. let’s order some food and we can catch up, that sound good?” he asked, you nodded, a burst of confidence inside of you made you stand on your toes and kiss his cheek.

“i really like you.” you confessed, not knowing where this bravery came from. maybe it was just him. something about spencer as a whole just brought comfort and peace to you. if he was with you you’d be alright.

“i really like you too, sweet girl.” he grabbed on tighter to you, leaning in to press a soft kiss on your lips. all the air left your lungs once more as your fingers found themselves tangled in his hair. your loud mind became foggy as you focused on the feeling of him on you. his lips, his body pressed against yours, his hands on you.

a soft, surprised moan left your throat as spencer bit your lower lip lighty, retreating.

“i’ll make the call, italian okay?”

he left you standing there, still reeling from the kiss, the ghost of his lips on yours still there, your tongue poked out to lick your lips, tasting him, tasting yourself.

god bless whatever genes, deities and universes that came together in order to create spencer reid.

and if one of him is perfect, could the world handle two? a mini reid, with his hair and eyes and brain, his politeness, as well as the best part of your genes?

it’s a wicked thought for such an early state in a relationship.

“i ordered the tiramisu also, i remember you really liked it the last time we were there, i hope that’s okay.”

“it’s perfect, thank you.” you walk to him, quieting your mind as you hug him, burying your face in his chest. “thank you.”

for wanting me, for making me feel special, for paying attention, for liking me, for not running away, for making me believe a future is possible.

it all goes unsaid, but you mean it, and you hope he doesn’t think you’re clingy, as you pour all your feelings into the hug.

[spencereid-reads]

the whole world | s. reid

wc: 3.4k words // warnings: english isn't my first language! soooo much fluuuuuffinessss, swear words maybe? NOT proofread as you can see., a kid, spencer being cute, aaah idk what else, i think this sucks but it's mother's day today where i live and for some reason i couldn't stop thinking about dad!spence so this was born. (ha, that was unintentional)

dad!spence x mom!fem!reader

you’re not really sure what wakes you up.

if it’s the change of temperature in the bed, a sign that spencer had recently gotten up and started his day. or if it’s the small, soft footsteps running around the house.

you know it’s taking everything in your little hazel not to spoil the mother’s day surprise she’s been working on at school. one of the many features she and her father share is their fascination to talk and talk about anything and everything, and more often than not, you are the person they tell everything to. so your daughter had been in a bit of a predicament since you first picked her up from school on a monday afternoon.

“had fun today, haze?” you asked, buckling her into her seat in the back of your car.

“yeah,” she nodded, kicking her legs in the air.

“what did you do?” it was the same routine every day, and she was ready to begin telling you all about the new special project they started working on when suddenly she heard her teacher’s voice in her head.

‘it’s a surprise for mommy! you all have to try and keep it a secret!’

“can’t say.”

“what?” you asked, leaning back a little, letting her bag drop below her feet.

“miss tate said we can only tell daddy! mommy can’t know until it's mommy day.” she explained.

“ohhh, you’re working on something for mother’s day, lovey?” you smiled as you caressed her cheek, cupping her face with your hand, she leaned into it instinctively.

“...maybe.” she grinned at you.

“okay, honey. you know you can tell me if you want to talk about it, okay? i know you must be so excited, and i promise you i’m not going to be mad, i’m going to love it no matter what it is, got it?” you pressed a few kisses all over her face, your heart melting at the sound of her giggles. “or you can tell daddy when he comes home, he’s good at keeping secrets, you know?”

“yeah! i tell daddy”

and every day leading up to mother’s day, she tried to skip the subject about what she did at school, and as much as you loved that panicked expression on her face, the way her hazel eyes widened and cheeks blushed you decided not to torture her anymore.

she’s so easy to read. just like her father.

her perfect, loving father. who told you to take a day all to yourself that friday leading up to mother’s day, it was also the day when the kids were sent home with the project, so it would also give spence and hazel the chance to hide it and perfect it.

while you enjoyed a day at a spa, filled with massages and pampering, your little loves were at the mall looking for a gift.

“what would you like to give her, haze?” spence asked, looking at his daughter through the rearview mirror. “what do you think mommy would like?”

“well, green is her favorite color. so, green?”

“something green, that sounds nice,” he nodded, his chest nearly trembling as he stole glances at his daughter. five years in and he still found it hard to believe he had a daughter. a child. a perfect, beautiful, smart and kind daughter. who looked so much like him and so much like you at the same time. “i heard her tell auntie em she needed a new handbag.” he suggested,

“we can buy her a green handbag!”

“i think that’s an excellent idea, hazey.” spencer smiled, holding the steering wheel with one hand, the other stretched out towards his child. “high-five,” he said, and felt her tiny hand smack against his, “good girl,” he smiled proudly.

since hazel was still in your womb, you knew she’d be a tall girl. i mean, look at her dad! but at five years old, whilst hazel is tall compared to children her age, she looks tiny when standing next to spencer. her head reached just below his waist, and her arm hurt whenever she walking alongside him because spencer pulled her little hand up to meet his, but she had to stretch so far up and it was just the sweetest sight in the world.

it’s late when you got home that night, thirty minutes past hazel’s bedtime, yet the moment you stepped in you heard the sounds of her favorite cartoon coming from the tv.

blossom instructs her two sisters in a plan to defeat that day’s monster, and you expected to find your own little powerpuff girl running around the living room, but other than the tv, the rest of the house was silent. you kicked off your shoes, walking to the coffee table to turn the tv off when you saw them.

spencer with his back on the couch, somehow his legs bent but still managed to stay upright, and your daughter resting against his chest, his arms around her, keeping her close and safe.

and you took a second or two to soak in the view. spencer’s head was to the side, and hazel was pressed so far into his neck that it’s hard to point out where his curls end and hers begin.

you walked to them, your hand reaching to play with hazel’s hair as you leaned to press a kiss to spencer’s forehead. it’s scary how quickly they capture your undivided attention, just the sight of either of them was enough to make you drop whatever it was you were doing.

“hey,” spencer’s voice was groggy, sleep evident in it and in the way he struggled to peel his eyes open, like his eyelids were begging to stay shut.

“it’s okay, go back to sleep. i’ll take her,” you said, but felt a light tug on your wrist.

“c’mere,” he mumbled, scooting to the back of the couch and making space for you. you gave in, squeezing your way in and adjusting hazel on top of you so you don’t choke with her hair against your mouth. “had fun?” you felt spencer’s hand on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin, sneaking under your shirt.

“yeah. thank you, needed it,” you don’t know if it’s the busy day you had, or just the sight of your two loves sleeping that made you feel tired, too. you covered a yawn with the back of your hand. “you?”

“mhm,” he hummed in agreement, “hazey couldn’t decide on one thing. said you’d loved so many things. got you everything.”

“spence-” you scolded lightly.

“i know. but you should’ve seen her. too cute. too much like you.”

“like you, you mean.”

“hmm,” he opened one eye, pulling you closer, being careful with your girl on top of you. “like us. she’s got the best of us.”

and she does.

she’s funny and smart like spencer, kind and caring like you.

you don’t know where the sassiness came from, though.

(kidding, it’s all spencer, he wouldn't admit it)

“daddy, can i put a candle?” hazel asks, she’s done with placing the grapes into a bowl and looking for something else to add to your ‘mother’s day pavaganza’, a phrase she’d picked up from hearing auntie penny ask about your spa day, and had repeated to her spencer, who didn't have the heart to correct her when she sounded so adorable.

“i just know those little geniuses have a big mother’s day extravaganza planned for you,” she’d said, just as hazel entered the kitchen.

“on the pancakes?” spencer asks, she nods. “sure,”

the drawer slams a little louder than she’d intended, her mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ as her eyes widen in shock.

“sorry, daddy!” she runs to him, one hand on the stool she’s currently trying to climb, the other fisting spencer’s pajama pants. “here,” she hands him the pink birthday candle you’d used for her birthday cake.

“thank you, hazey,”

you chuckle as you listen to them, you can’t hear all of it, but you can tell she’s getting louder the more excited she gets. it’s only a matter of minutes before the chaos that had been in the kitchen joins you in your bedroom. you pretend to sleep, curling into spencer’s side of the bed, and closing your eyes.

“she’s asleep! daddy, can i wake her?” you hear her laughing when you fake snore.

“go ahead, haze, gentle,” he reminded her, even though he knew you were awake.

“mommy,” you hear her running to the other side of the bed, “mama,” she climbs in next to you, lying next to you, you feel her breath on your face. then she presses wet, sloppy kisses on your cheek, and you swoon.

“hmm, who's giving me such sweet kisses?” you ask, being met with a grinning hazel as you open your eyes.

“it's mommy day!” she exclaims, arms looping around your neck with a strength you hadn't expected, “love you mommy,”

“i love you too, my angel, so, so, so much,” you wrap your arms around your little girl and hug her tight, setting your back against the mattress. you kiss all over her face and head, her little hands sticky and stained in maple syrup and jam.

“made you mommy day food,” she laughed as you tickled her sides. “daddy!”

spencer has taken residence by the end of the bed, the tray filled with breakfast set carefully on his lap.

“happy mother's day, honey,” he whispered against your lips, once the tray has been set in front of hazel, who can't help but pick a few slices of fruit to help herself.

“thank you, love you,” you kissed him once more, running a hand through his hair as you turn to look at your girl. “is it yummy?” you ask her as she pops a grape in her mouth, she nods, “i bet it's cause you and your daddy made it.”

it's a few hours later, after you're all showered and dressed, that you go downstairs and find the living room all decorated, with balloons and strings and three pieces of paper stuck to the wall that read ‘happy’, ‘mommy’, ‘day’ in spencer’s handwriting, but drawings made by hazel surrounding the words.

“mommy close your eyes,” you're sitting on the couch, all the gifts that hazel couldn't choose from are now open and on the coffee table. turns out the other gifts had just been little trinkets, a headband, a small bracelet, a keychain. “it's time for the surprise!”

“what surprise? i didn't know there would be a surprise!” your heart melted at her laughter.

“daddy cover her eyes,” she orders, and spencer makes his way around the sofa, standing behind you, he leans down, tilting your head back and pressing his lips on your temple.

“i’ve got it, hazey,” he nearly purrs against your skin, and as spencer continues his soft attack on your face, you hear hazel running through the house, “we hid it in my office,” he pulls back a little, staring at you with so much love.

“thank you for today,” you whisper, your cheeks were now hurting from the permanent smile that had been on your face the entire day.

“it's nothing, you deserve the world, honey.” and he means it. when he was young he'd pushed the idea of love to the side, with his job and his lack of social skills it was hard to picture a future with a family, but here he was. thanks to you. “i love you so much, you've got no idea,” he leaned down again, this time kissing your lips, accomplishing two things at once.

kissing you, and getting you to close your eyes.

“ready mommy?” you'd been so wrapped up in your husband that you missed your daughter walking back to you.

you looked down to see a scrapbook (just a few colored paper sheets binded by ribbon), a picture of you and hazel on the cover, in the middle.

“angel, this is beautiful,” you coo through teary eyes, embracing her fully before you even looked at the rest of the book.

the three of you settled on the sofa, with hazel between you two as she explained why she picked the pictures, something she'd done with spencer’s help. the pages were decorated with crayon drawings, glitter hearts, and stickers.

the last picture brought even more tears to your eyes, you were sitting in a hospital bed, with spencer by your side, his hand wrapped around your back, the both of you staring down at the new little baby that had just been born.

hazel’s first ever picture.

“look at this, hazey, you were so tiny,” you swallowed a lump in your throat, “and look at you now, you're so big, my sweet girl.”

“daddy said this is the day you became a mommy,"

“technically i was a mommy when you were in my belly,” you patted your stomach, “but my entire life was changed the minute you were born, i loved you before i even knew you, and i didn't know i could feel that much love for someone so little. hazey-” you said, shuffling her around so she was sitting on your lap, spencer pressed your back against his chest. you looked back at him, kissing his cheek.

“your daddy and i love you so much. it's an honor being your parents. every day i thank the stars that you're our little baby, that we get to raise you and see you grow. thank you for making me your mommy,”

“love you, mommy,” she nestled against your neck, “love you, daddy,” she reached up, puckered lips against spencer's other cheek.

“love you, hazey, you're my wish come true,” spencer placed a kiss on the top of her head.

that night, as you get ready for bed, feeling tired from all the emotions of the day, you snuggle against spencer's side.

“thank you for today. for helping haze,”

“of course, sweet, i told you, you deserve the world,” his lips meet yours in a gentle, slow kiss.

“i already have my whole world with me,” you tell him, voice full of sleep and love. “thank you for giving me my world.”

and if spencer had a time travel machine he would tell his younger self to not lose hope. the best years of his life were yet to come, his world wouldn't end when members of his chosen family left the team, his whole world and family were on the way.

[spencereid-reads]

the language of you | s. reid

wc: 2.1k // warnings: english isn't my first language! an extreme amount of italics, meet-cute, love at first poem sight kinda thing. poems that i found on either google or pinterest. a few swear words, maybe? // a/n: my first time writing for reid and cm in general. i'm in the middle of season 9 and idk where this idea came from. also i don't know anything about poetry, the last quote is as far as my knowledge goes. if you think you know me from my other writing blog no you don't<3but ily also idk if i'll keep writing, i just wanted to post it bc of world poetry day, i think it's a nice coincidence.

i use she/her pronouns//fem!reader in almost all of my fics!

the cold hallways of the university building aren't as big and intimidating as he remembered. and this time, they welcomed him with open arms. he was just a kid when he first set foot here, and now here he was, being invited by a member of his team to teach the young minds of college kids.

spencer reid had never been a great public speaker, sure, he had the qualities of one, but he was also known to ramble on and on about a specific subject if he was interested enough in it, most likely overwhelming and quite often scaring the class attendees.

he followed dr. blake through the crowded halls, she'd invited him along to one of her lectures, she needed someone with vast knowledge about, -well, everything-, and a quick mind, and he was the perfect addition to her classes.

it was weird, being on the other side of the lecture hall, with dozens of eyes set on him as he spoke, he wasn't nervous per se, more... aware of the situation. but luckily the students were focused, paid attention and asked good questions. he considered that a win in his book. without noticing, the 90 minute class was over, and he approached blake after gathering his things and crossing his signature leather bag over his shoulder.

"ready to head back?" he asked.

"not quite, there's a friend of mine giving a lecture next door, it's her first class, actually. thought we'd stop by for a bit, wish her good luck." she said, sliding her black blazer back on.

"sure, what's it about?"

"you'll see. i think you'll enjoy it." she gave him a sly smile, making her way up the steps, he stood there for a second, wondering what the subject might be. there were a lot of things that he enjoyed, physics, math, science.

spencer caught up to her just as she opened the door to the other lecture hall, sliding in behind alex as his eyes adjusted to the change of lighting. compared to the room they'd just left, this felt nothing like a classroom. it felt more like a theater.

the lights were off, the room being lit up by fake candles lining both sets of steps on each side of the room, and he noticed real candles on the front stage, the flames dancing with the subtle change of pressure as a girl, maybe as young as he was, walked on stage. a book in her hand, but she didn't need it, whatever she was saying was from memory, the worlds flowing effortlessly out her mouth.

he stood frozen in his spot, it took him two seconds to recognize and figure out what was going on.

"lines fall on the soul like dew on the grass. what does it matter that i couldn’t keep her. the night is fractured and she is not with me." she recited, eyes closed as she stopped walking, even from his spot at the top of the steps he could see her facial expression, a frown on her face as her eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed as if she was the one feeling the pain the author was describing.

neruda. poetry.

spencer had never been the biggest fan of poetry, but maybe he just hadn't found the right person to teach him about it.

what an incredulous thought, someone teaching a subject to genius spencer reid? but he couldn't help but be drawn to the soft voice that spoke with love, sorrow and rhythm.

"my voice tried to find the breeze to reach her. another’s kisses on her, like my kisses. her voice, her bright body, infinite eyes."

she was savoring each word in her tongue, and spencer's ears perked up at every sound that left her mouth.

"wonder boy, come on," alex's whisper brought him out of his thoughts, as he followed her down the candlelit steps to one of the first rows.

how he wished he could've stayed up there, hidden within the shadows, since he couldn't take two steps without his eyes having to find the young lecturer again, slowing down his legs.

but from down there he noticed the way the candles lit her face, casting a soft golden glow, and now he found himself thanking the small flames scattered around the stage.

she threw the two fbi agents a look, a knowing gleam in her eye as she recognized the female doctor. it was fleeting, she didn’t let the interaction distract her from the verses and the words slipping from her lips.

“loving is so short, forgetting is so long,” she breathed the words, barely audible as she felt every syllable in every bone of her body.

as she finished the poem, deafening silence fell upon the room, and spencer realized how quiet the room had been since he arrived, yet her soft voice seemed to fill it effortlessly.

“has anyone here ever felt emotions as strong as the ones depicted in the poem? joy, sadness, anger?” she asked, somehow leaving aside the ‘character’ she’d slipped into as she recited the words written by neruda. “love? has anyone ever experienced this… deep, unshakeable need to absolutely possess someone? to keep them all for your own, locked in a room to look, touch, admire as much as you wish?” she continued, eyes scanning the room, and spencer’s breathing hitched when she placed her eyes on him. “i know how it sounds like, but- poetry and language, is quite possibly the best way to express those intense feelings.”

“what about sex?” a voice from the crowd asked.

“that’s a great way too,” she nodded, laughing along with the class, “but have you ever stood in front of a girl, a boy, a person you truly feel like you’d die for, and told them exactly that? how just the touch of their hand holding someone else’s would rip your soul out of your body, or how you’d swim oceans just to get to hear their laugh one last time? i don’t know about you, but i feel like that’s a hundred times better than sex.” she continued, walking from one side of the stage to the other, using her hands and changing the tone in her voice to emphasize what she wanted to say. “i promise you that by the end of this semester you’ll be able to put all of that into your own words. read, everyone. please, read and do your research, and i promise you that you’ll get your chance to be neruda, dickinson. anybody can be a poet. poetry is about feelings, thoughts, the things that keep you up at night, and being able to put all of that into words. read, even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, but think about what they want to say. i know it’s our first class but i’ll leave you some work for friday. just pick a poem, learn it and present it here, i want to see what we’re working with. that’s it for today, thank you.” she vowed her head like an actor who’d just finished a play, walking around the stage as she blew the candles off.

“come on, let’s go say hi,” alex stood up, prompting spencer to do the same, and he had to swallow the feelings inside of him. his mind repeating every word the girl onstage had just said. he knew the importance of poetry, he had a few favorite poets, and he knew about all the hard technical work that was behind writing a good poem, but he’d never taken the time to think about the personal aspect of the work.

“dr. blake, great to see you here,” she greeted the older woman, who embraced her in a hug.

“you too. you were great there, no one would’ve thought it was your first time teaching,”

“well, what can i say, i learned everything from you.”

“please, our fields are as far apart as they could be. it’s all thanks to that big brain of yours. which, speaking of, meet dr. spencer reid, we work together.” alex stepped aside, revealing a tall man, hands fidgeting with his leather bag and long strands of hair covering his forehead. alex always had a soft spot for spencer, the young genius reminded her of herself, once upon a time.

“pleasure to meet you, dr. reid,” the young girl smiled at him, offering her hand.

“likewise,” he said, taking her hand in his. alex’s eyebrows raised, she’d been expecting a speech about germs and pathogens but got none.

“so, what’d you think? was it too much? think i scared the kids?”

“today’s youth doesn’t take things too seriously, they prefer one night stands and lack of commitment.” spencer explained.

“think i’m reaching for the stars for trying to get them to channel their emotions and actually feel them?” the young professor asked him, a smile on her face told him that she’d already thought about that.

“not necessarily, studies have proven that people who can feel and acknowledge their emotions are happier, live longer and have better relationships with themselves and others. also, they have more confidence in themselves and can make lasting relationships, but physical and emotional.” he continued, and this time dr. blake spoke.

“so if you do your job right you’ll get lots of people laid,”

“ah, if only i could make that work for me,” she replied, heat creeping onto her cheeks as she looked down. her words made spencer stop breathing.

“i’m sure someone with your wits and… well, you could get anyone you want,” the words slipped out before he could control them.

“sounds easier said than done, but i’ve decided to devote my life to my work and books, and there doesn’t seem to be anyone coming anytime soon to change that. i’m alright with that, life is more than that.” she shrugged her shoulder.

“not enjoyment, and not sorrow, is our destined end or way; but to act, that each tomorrow find us farther than today.” spencer recalled from memory.

“you speak my language, doctor,” the young professor breathed. and the older woman took the opportunity to interfere.

“like i said, genius. you two should talk, he’s got a very interesting brain that i’m sure you’d love to pick,” she reached toward her friend, wrapping her in a quick hug, “i’ll meet you out there, reid, i have a few things to do.” with that she walked out of the lecture hall, leaving the two young brilliant minds together.

“sorry about her, she’s been trying to set me up with someone since we met. i was her t.a back when i was a grad student.”

“you worked with her?” spencer asked, internally rolling his eyes at himself, she’d obviously just stated that.

“yup. i know, how could someone go from linguistics applied in criminology to poetry? it’s a big leap, but… she’s helped me more than anyone in my entire career.” she spoke with fondness in her voice. “anyway, she was right. i would love to pick that brain of yours.” she said, “sorry, that sounded weird, but-”

“no, no, it’s- fine. i- i’d like to talk to you, more, as well.”

“it’s a date, then.” she smiled, even wider when she noticed the slight blush creeping on his cheeks,

“if only i could recollect it, such a day of days. i let it come and go as traceless as a thaw of bygone snow; it seemed to mean so little, meant so much-” spencer started, the words taking over his mind and mouth before he could even think about it.

“if only now i could recall that touch, first touch of a hand in hand- did one but know,” she finished for him.

“i-i,” he started, surprising himself by the way he stuttered. “i don't speak your language, not like you do, not yet. i'm not a poet. but… i want to learn… i want to.”

she breathed out, all the air leaving her lungs, his wild eyes scanned all over her face, not profiling. but learning, taking in her cues, and a pressure left his shoulders when she saw her lips twitching, breaking for a smile.

“i may be the writer, but you'll always be the words.” she took a step toward him, his eyes settling for her own, it helped him calm down. “it's like i said, anybody can be a poet.”

“i-i’ll see you friday?” he said.

“friday?” she raised her eyebrows.

“yeah, you-you said you had to see what you're working with?”

“i do.” she nodded, a playful gleam in her eyes, “i guess i’ll see you friday. we can get coffee, before coming here.” she suggested.

“is that special treatment, professor?” one more time, he surprised himself by the way he spoke to her, like it was the most natural thing to do. we wished it never stopped, he wanted to hear her amused laugh again.

“maybe.” she bit her lip as she laughed.

****

“this could be the start of something new, and it feels so right to be here with you.”

-high school musical