#if not then we deserve to see Spencer teaching and being so excited | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scuttling · 3 years

Text

Perfect

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 6,154 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Daddy Kink, Daddy Training, Dom/sub, Dry Humping, Vaginal Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Dirty Talk, Oral Fixation, Subspace, Aftercare, Multiple Orgasms, Established Aaron/Sophie Summary: Two weeks after the events of 'Present,' Aaron plans another surprise—this time for Spencer and Sophie. Collection: Part 2 of 5 of Present, Perfect, Patient, Promise, Pretend series Note: This is a previously published work from A03, just moving it over to tumblr. Link to A03 or read below! Spencer is sitting at his desk working on a consultation, in his own little world, when a perfect denim-covered butt comes to rest on his case file, thighs spread in front of his face. His mouth falls open, and he looks up at Sophie. She’s grinning, cherry red lollipop in hand. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies, and he looks around the bullpen, panicked, but miraculously, they’re alone.

“Food truck today, everyone’s at lunch. I was in Aaron’s office, but he had to take a call; thought I’d come say hi.” Her fingers reach out to brush over his lips. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You look really cute today, all tie-d up.” Her fingers slide down to wrap around it. “Can I kiss you?” He nods, and she bends down to press her mouth to his, humming against it. “Aaron said I could ask you to spend the night tonight. Or, all weekend, if you’re free.” She sits up properly, slides the lollipop into her mouth, sucks on it. He licks his lips, and she pulls it out, smiles. “Are you free?”

“Extremely,” he answers, and he wraps his hand around her calf, half-stands so he can have another kiss. They’re being bold, even if everyone is at lunch, but he likes it.

“I take it he said yes.” Spencer curses and pulls back, but Sophie just laughs. It’s only Aaron.

“He did. I think he likes us.”

“I know he likes us,” Aaron replies, voice low, and Spencer’s head is almost spinning with how fast they’ve turned him on. He comes to stand beside them, and Sophie looks up at him, swipes her tongue over the lollipop, and then presses it to Spencer’s mouth. He sucks it in, wraps his tongue around it, and when she pulls it out with a pop, Aaron groans. “Fuck.”

“That’s the plan,” Sophie says, cheeky, and he leans in, presses his fingers to her jaw, tilts her head up so she’s making eye contact.

“You don’t make the plans, sweet girl. I do. Do you want to know what the plan is?” She nods as best as she can, and when Aaron looks to Spencer, he nods too. “You like being dominated by me. You like having a daddy who tells you what you can and can’t do.” Spencer swallows hard, because he knew about the dominating, but he didn’t know about the daddy thing. His dick throbs. “But wouldn’t it be something if I let you have two daddies? Two daddies to order you around, to fill you up, to tease you until your pussy is so wet you make a mess of everything?”

Sophie whines, spreads her legs further apart, and Aaron drops his hand to squeeze hard at her thigh.

“If Spencer wants to learn, baby, I’m going to teach him how to be your daddy this weekend. He’s had a taste of you, but he’s going to find out just how dirty and needy my little slut really is.”

“I want to learn,” he says quickly, practically tripping over his own tongue to do so. Sophie takes a couple of shallow breaths, and he’s suddenly so aware of how thin her t-shirt is, how he can see her nipples even through her bra. How fucking perfect she is.

“He wants to learn. Does that sound good, precious girl?” She closes her eyes, wets her lips, and Aaron caresses her face.

“Yes, daddies.”

Fuck.

“Good girl. Time to get down; everyone will be coming back soon.” He puts his hands on her waist, helps her to her feet. His fingers wrap around her hand, the one with the lollipop, and he guides it to her mouth, pushes it inside. “You can come sit in my office and suck on that until you calm down. Give Spencer a hug.” She does, puts her arms around him, and he reciprocates, inhaling sharply when she presses against his erection; she steps back, looks down at it, looks up at Aaron. “It’ll have to wait, sweetheart. We don’t have time. Spencer understands.” He presses his hand to Spencer’s back, and he exhales, nods.

“I understand. It’s okay,” he tells her, and when he touches her cheek, she closes her eyes, sighs. “You go calm down. I’ll see you in a little while.” Aaron moves his hand to his arm, squeezes him, and then he leads Sophie up the stairs to his office. The rest of the team files back into the bullpen so suddenly it’s almost alarming; not even a full minute has passed. He sits back down, tips his head back, and blows out a breath.

“What’s going on with you, Reid?” Morgan asks as he and Prentiss take their seats. “You missed lunch.”

“I guess my mind is on other things,” he says offhand, and it is an incredible understatement. Aaron texts Spencer, tells him to come over at 7 and to come hungry, and he and Sophie make mushroom risotto, to be served with French bread and white wine.

He may be trying to woo him a little, since the last time he spent the night was quick and frantic and ended with pizza in bed before an equally hurried round two. He deserves some romance, if they’re going to continue this, make it more than just a thing, as Sophie calls it. He’s never been in a relationship with two people at once, never thought he would want to, and he wants to be sure he does things right.

He takes off his jacket but stays in his work clothes; no sense changing out of them when they’ll be removed soon enough. He does choose a new outfit for Sophie, though: it’s a lavender colored, transparent, lacy babydoll dress—lingerie, really—with matching panties, though he doesn’t let her wear them. He wants to see the look on Spencer’s face when he realizes she’s practically naked already.

“You’re a little bit evil,” Sophie says when he tells her to remove them, gives her his reasoning, but she takes the panties back off and tosses them at his face.

“You love me, though,” he says, setting them on the counter, and she grins, wicked, and sidles up to him for a slow, lingering kiss.

“Yeah, I do, handsome.” They kiss a little longer, and he lifts her up onto the counter so he can keep his hand on her while he stirs the risotto, knows she likes to be gently touched as much as possible before the kind of playing they’re going to do tonight. He gently trails his fingertips over her thighs, earning happy sighs, and when the doorbell rings, she looks up at him, clearly excited. It’s so cute. “Want me to get the door, or take over stirring?”

“You stir, baby. I’ll go get him.” He leans in for a kiss, and she smiles into it, pulls back looking affectionate and sweet.

He can’t wait for them to wreck her.

“Hi,” Spencer greets a little nervously when he opens the door. He’s holding a small bouquet of white flowers, still in his work clothes, too, and he looks just... perfect. “Jasmine. I remember Sophie said they were her favorite, once.” Aaron smiles, and he leans in to kiss him soft and slow.

“She’ll love them. You’re very thoughtful, Spencer. That’s how I know I can trust you with her.” His answering nod is serious, and his eyes are wide.

“Of course you can. Of course.” He ushers him in, and when he sees Sophie on the counter, leaning over to stir the risotto in her tiny little dress, he swallows audibly. She turns, and her eyes light up when they fall on the both of them.

“Hi, Spencer.” Aaron guides him over to her, bends to kiss her mouth, and then she kisses Spencer. He grabs a vase to put the flowers in while they greet each other. “Mmm, flowers?” she asks when they separate, and he touches her face while he fills the vase at the sink.

“Jasmine. He remembered they’re your favorite. Do you want to smell?” She nods, and he tips them toward her, earning a deep, happy inhale.

“God, they smell so good. Thank you.” The smile she gives Spencer is brilliant, and Aaron feels really happy. He’s only been here five minutes and it already feels like something good.

“I’ll finish dinner, sweet girl,” he says, coming to take the spoon from her with a kiss. “Can you tell Spencer daddy’s rules for tonight?” She straightens a little, her posture less relaxed, but she does wind her arms around Spencer's neck.

“Yes, daddy. First rule is no panties,” she explains, and it makes his eyes fall to her lap, his tongue flick over his lips. Aaron smirks privately. “I have to be patient while we eat dinner, and after, while we relax, but I am allowed to hump daddy’s thigh—both daddies’ thighs.”

“That’s a good rule,” he murmurs, looking a little dazed. It’s a great look on him, and Aaron absently wonders how submissive he could make him, if he’d like that, too.

“All of daddy’s rules are good rules. He’s smart and takes care of me when I’m too needy to think for myself.” That earns her a soft kiss on the nose from Aaron, and her answering smile is lovely. “I have to come on each daddy’s cock at least once. You get to decide if I’m allowed to come from something else as well.”

“We’ll talk more about that later,” he promises Spencer, who nods. He leans in for a kiss, because he looks horny and overwhelmed and adorable. “Continue please.”

“Yes, daddy. We all need to be honest about what we like and don’t like. If the thought of something makes you feel bad, you stop and tell daddy. Aaron. We won’t ever be disappointed, we promise.”

“There are some things she and I may like that you won’t, or maybe some things the two of you will like that I won’t. If we already know, we’ll tell you that.”

“I can confidently say that this is much more intense than anything I’ve done before, so I may not know,” he says, unsure. Aaron grabs potholders and takes the pan off the stove, plates their food.

“That’s absolutely fine. If something you see interests you, or you think of something, speak up. I’m happy to talk you through it. I wasn’t intense either, until I met Sophie.”

“I bring out the latent daddy in the men I like,” she says with a wink. “You still want to do this, though?” she asks, confirming. “It’s okay if this isn’t for you.”

“I think it’s for me,” he says quietly. “I know you two are.” That gets him hugs and kisses from the both of them, with Aaron wrapping his arms around him from behind and pressing his lips to his cheek. Sophie leans forward, kisses him deeply, soulfully.

“Good. You’re for us, too,” Aaron speaks into his ear with certainty. “Let’s eat, and we can talk more while we relax.”

Dinner is good, with soft laughter and affectionate looks from the both of them, at him and at each other. He’d placed the vase of jasmine on the table, and he can tell looking at it turns Sophie on; she loses her mind over sweet gestures like that.

When the table has been cleared, dishwasher humming in the background, they go into the living room to relax with another glass of wine—for Aaron and Spencer only, because Sophie had her half a glass with dinner, and that’s all she can have before play.

They sit on the couch, Aaron then Sophie then Spencer, talking about nothing in particular, and he smooths his hand up Sophie’s thigh, tries to judge how horny she is by the way she responds. Spencer is talking about biology, something Aaron can’t follow, but she is listening intently, her eyes on his face; when Aaron’s hand creeps up her leg, though, closer and closer to her bare pussy, she moans softly.

“I’m sorry, Spencer, go ahead,” she apologizes, but he’s blinking in confusion, and then he sees the hand pushing up her dress and it looks like he suddenly understands the reason for the interruption. “Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cut you off.”

“It’s okay, really,” he says, wetting his lips, and Aaron gets a brilliant idea.

“Why don’t you sit on his thigh and hump while he finishes his story, sweet girl? You can face him.” He looks to Spencer, to make sure that’s okay, and he nods, opens his arms for Sophie. She takes his hand, but turns back to kiss Aaron softly on the lips before sliding her knees around either side of his right thigh. Aaron takes the spot she previously occupied, so he can be closer to both of them. “Go ahead, Spencer.”

He swallows, puts his hands on Sophie’s hips over her clothes, and continues his story while she grinds against his leg, slowly at first. She remains focused, interested—he knows she enjoys being his outlet sometimes, when others won’t give him the chance—for several minutes longer than he’d expected, but at some point she gives in, releases another soft, needy moan, clutches at his arms.

“Good girl, rubbing on your daddy while he talks to you. He’s very smart, and it turns you on when a daddy talks about things you don’t understand, doesn’t it?” She shivers at the sound of his voice, humps faster.

“Yes, daddy. I have two very good, very handsome, very smart daddies, and it makes me so wet.”

“I bet it does, baby, and you aren’t wearing panties. Are you making a mess of your daddy’s thigh?”

“Yes, such a mess. I’m sorry, daddy,” she says directly to Spencer, the first time she’s addressed only him that way, and he can see in his eyes that he’s a fucking goner. He’s so into it, even if he’s nervous, even if he’s shy. He’s at least sure, now.

“That’s okay, baby,” Spencer says, tentative, like the word is new for him. “I know you’re needy. It’s okay, keep rubbing.” She pants at his words, works her hips harder.

“Yes, daddy. Do you want me to come, daddy? Or do you want me to stop myself?” He looks over at Aaron, who puts his hand on the thigh Sophie isn’t riding.

“It’s up to you. Either is good with me. And she’ll take whatever we give her, won't you, sweetheart?” She moans, nods frantically.

“Yes, I’ll take whatever my daddies give me. They decide when and where I get to come, if my pussy is empty or if there are fingers or a cock inside it.”

“Fuck,” Spencer groans, and he holds tighter to her hips. “You can come baby, come for daddy.”

“Put your thumb in her mouth,” Aaron directs, and he presses one against her lips; she moves her fingers from his arm to his hand and holds it close, sucks and humps for another ten or fifteen seconds before coming, moaning around his thumb. He watches, rapt, as she loses it, and Aaron gets it—having her come on his tongue was one thing, during intercourse another, but watching the woman they know is strong, smart, formidable, just come completely and gorgeously undone at their request to hump his thigh? It’s something else entirely.

Spencer pulls her close, kisses her deep and wet, and when he breaks the kiss he urges Aaron closer, so he can kiss her too. “Good girl, Sophie. You did so good, listening to your daddies’ commands. We’re so proud of you.” He runs his hand over the arm closest to him, is happy to see that Spencer catches on, does the same with the other side. “When our baby girl does really well for us, she likes to hear it, and she likes to feel gentle hands so she doesn’t get too fuzzy and lose herself before we’re done playing.”

“Sure, of course,” Spencer says, nodding, and he knows he’s committing it to memory. “That was perfect, Sophie. We’re so proud of you.” He smooths his hands up over her throat, and she hums happily.

“Come over here, now, sweet girl. I want to see how wet you made daddy.” She reaches for him, and Spencer gives her up—not easily, he thinks. He looks so attached to her already, and it’s incredible, to see the things he’s felt happen to himself, happen to someone else.

Spencer’s pants are gray, so the dark, wet patch on his thigh looks all that much more indecent; Spencer tips his head back, runs his hands through his hair, licks his lips, and Aaron can’t help but chuckle.

“Don’t worry; we have a really good relationship with our dry cleaner." After the thigh-riding thing, Spencer is probably more desperate to come than Sophie was. He never imagined himself as someone a woman would call daddy—he’s young, but more importantly not experienced, or confident, or classically, painfully handsome like Aaron, so the thought never even crossed his mind, but… It is an intoxicating, addicting feeling, one he wants to chase until they wise up and kick him out of their bed.

And learning about it all from Aaron, who is so knowledgeable, and firm, and careful with her? It’s got him so hard it’s almost embarrassing.

They’ve moved to the bedroom, and Sophie is content to watch them kiss each other, grope each other, take each other’s clothes off. He thinks they both felt a rush from watching her fall apart, can almost taste it on Aaron’s lips.

Her little, purple, see-through dress stays on, and he almost likes it better that way. For now, at least.

“What should we do next?” Aaron asks, breathless after kissing. “Do you want to fuck her? Want me to fuck her? Or should we tease her some more? With our fingers?” It’s so hard to choose, because he’s so ready to come, but he thinks he can wait, wants to see more of what they can do to her.

“Fingers,” he decides, his voice rougher than he’d anticipated, because that’s something he’s wanted to see since he ate her pussy the last time. Aaron nods, looking pleased.

“She loves to be filled up with fingers. She’s such a perfect girl, because one is enough to make her come, but she can probably take three of yours if you want her to. Isn’t that right, baby? You’re a desperate slut for your daddy’s fingers.” She is sitting on the bed, propped up with her hands behind her, and she nods, swallows.

“Yes, I'm a desperate slut for daddy’s fingers.” Spencer’s heart rate jumps at hearing her recite the words back, and again, it’s not something that ever crossed his mind, but now he needs to test it out at some point.

“Sophie likes ‘slut’ because that’s how her daddies make her feel; like she could just be bent over and fucked for days and it wouldn’t be enough,” Aaron murmurs in his ear. It makes him shiver. “It’s a little smoother when you say, ‘a slut for daddy’ or ‘a slut for daddy’s cock’—make it possessive. She doesn’t like ‘whore.’” He presses another kiss to his lips before heading for the bed.

“Hi, daddy,” Sophie says when he reaches her, and she puts her arms around his neck, kisses him happily. “I’m getting fingers? Am I supposed to come on them?”

“Let’s ask daddy,” he says, and Spencer joins them, earns his own warm greeting and kiss.

“Hi, daddy. Am I supposed to come on the fingers?”

“Remember the rules,” Aaron reminds him gently. “She has to come on each of our cocks, and she came on your thigh. That’s three. She can do four, if you want. If we take a break in between, she can probably come six or seven times in a night, but she’ll be damn near useless the next day. That would be saved for something special.” Spencer nods, files that away. Seven orgasms. She deserves a day in bed after that. He gets tired after one.

“Uh. No, no coming on the fingers. I just want to play with you, feel how wet you are for us.” She nods seriously.

“Okay daddy, no coming. I’ll try really hard.” Her tongue peeks out, swipes over her bottom lip.

“What do you say when you’re getting close, sweetheart?” Aaron asks her, and she frowns.

“I say, ‘that's enough, daddy,’ and then you stop.”

“That’s right, because good girls don’t come unless daddy says to, and daddy said no.” He starts to feel kind of bad for denying her, but Aaron touches his face, kisses him. “This is okay. We have to tell her no sometimes. She’s good at this, I promise.”

“Okay,” he breathes, and he touches her throat, her face. “Can we take this off?” he asks of her dress, changing his mind, and Aaron smiles softly.

“You’re her daddy, you can do whatever you want.” Spencer exhales, feels like he needs to defer to Aaron because he always has, but this is different, and he knows that.

“Arms up, sweet girl,” he says, and she makes it easier for him to pull off the dress. Aaron hands him a pillow, and he lays her back on it, so her head and neck are supported. “Remember, no coming. Tell me if you need me to stop.”

“Yes, daddy.” He leans up for a kiss and slides one finger inside her; she is soaking wet, and he meets no resistance at all. It’s incredibly hot. “Yes, daddy, your finger is so deep inside me.” He closes his eyes for a second, because that’s hot too.

“Yes it is, baby girl. Deep inside your achy little pussy.” She nods, flushed and eager.

“‘M achy for you, daddy.”

Aaron curls himself along her side, stroking her hair and kissing her skin, and after a minute or so of teasing her with one finger, Spencer presses in another alongside it.

“Oh, mmm.” She thrashes her head a little, and Aaron shushes her softly. “But daddy. It feels so good.”

“I know baby, but remember, you can’t come. We don’t want daddy to have to discipline you already.” She looks down at him, where he’s thrusting his fingers inside, and squeezes her eyes shut. Her chest is heaving.

“But daddy is so handsome and good, and his fingers feel good. I wanna come on them.” Aaron looks at him, and he works hard to find some resolve; he knows he can’t give in now, has to stand his ground. It’s what Aaron would do.

“No coming, baby. Listen to daddy.” She sighs, and he slows his hand, teasing a little more. “I know you’re desperate to come on daddy’s fingers, but you’ll have to wait for my cock. Can you do that?”

“Yes, I can wait, daddy. Can wait for your big cock to push inside me so deep. I can wait.” She sounds almost frantic, repeating herself, but Aaron is just soothing her gently, so it must be okay.

“Good girl, yes you can. You’re going to make your daddies proud.” She arches up when Spencer says it, reaches for Aaron’s hair, tugs it.

“I’m your good girl, daddy? Promise?” Fuck. That shouldn’t sound as good as it does. He covers her breast with his free hand, squeezes it, and very carefully adds a third finger.

“Yes, you’re my good girl, baby. Taking daddy’s fingers, waiting so patiently to come. You’re perfect, sweetheart.” She’s wet enough that his three fingers slide in and out easily, and he moans as he watches them. “Fuck, Sophie. So good, so good for daddy.”

“Look at daddy, baby girl,” Aaron coos, and Sophie hums. “Look at how good he looks with his hand between your legs. He’s incredible. Tell him.”

“So incredible, daddy. He’s such a good daddy already, makes me dumb and needy and horny. I want him.” Spencer’s so hard he feels like he could pass out. He presses his cheek to her knee, kisses her there.

“When you’re close, baby, tell me and I’ll put my cock in you. You won’t be a bad girl, I promise.” Aaron reaches out a hand, puts it in his hair, comforting him. He knows he’s going off script, but he must be doing something good. “Tell me baby, when you’re very close.”

“Yes daddy, I’ll tell you, thank you. I want it so bad.” She rocks against his hand, hard, several times taking him down to the knuckle. “Oh, daddies, please.”

“Please what, Sophie? Needy, whiny little slut for your daddies. Please what?” Aaron moans, Sophie moans, Spencer moans; she’s being called needy, but they’re all a mess at this point, and it makes him a little proud, to be honest. He’s a quick learner even when it comes to this.

“Please daddy, that’s enough, I need your dick, please.”

He carefully pulls out his fingers, pushes down one of her thighs with his wet hand, hooks the other leg over his shoulder, and slides inside, bottoming out with a groan. Sophie cries out in pleasure, grabs for him, and he fucks her and kisses her with lots of tongue.

“Yes, yes, daddy, harder,” she pants, and Aaron touches the both of them with strong hands.

“Settle, baby, it’s okay,” he murmurs, rubbing over her breasts. “Daddy will get you there, just be good for him. Almost time.”

“But I need it, daddy, I need it.” She tosses her head back, and she’s full on begging, which shouldn’t make him feel so good, but it does.

“She’s a fucking mess,” Aaron says, affectionately. “Rub her clit, okay? You can’t beat the combination of clit and tits when you need to get her off fast.” He leans in, sucks at her nipple, and Spencer rubs tight circles against her clit until she comes so loudly he fears a noise complaint. She is still shivering through it when he leans forward, puts his hands on her waist, and pumps a few times until he comes as well, his sweaty face pressed against her leg.

Now that she’s got what she’s been begging for, she’s soft and sappy again, and she pushes his hair back, touches his cheek. “I have the best daddies in the whole world,” she sighs, reaching for Aaron, too, and he huffs a laugh.

“See how she goes from desperate, horny monster to sweet baby girl in like five seconds flat? It might be intense, but it’s the best sex you’ll ever have.”

“Yeah, no I got that,” Spencer says, panting. It was, by far. His other encounters pale in comparison. “Good girl, you did perfectly for me,” he praises, switching his attention back to Sophie. Aaron still needs to come, so they need her to be present. “I filled you up, came deep inside. You liked that, baby.”

“Yes, daddy, I liked that. So big inside me. I’m full of your come.” He blows out a long breath, because even though he’s completely spent, her words hit him right in the dick.

“Is there room for daddy to come in your little pussy too? He’s been waiting for you.” Her eyes linger on his face, then turn to look at Aaron’s, and she reaches out a hand to touch his cock.

“Yes, I always have room for daddy. I always want daddy to come in me.” Aaron moves his hand to cover hers, helps her stroke him, and she bites her lip. “Do you have a plan, daddy?” Aaron gives her a dark, serious look, and he can see it makes her eyes light up with hunger again.

“I always have a plan, baby. This one involves daddy.” He kisses Spencer with a hand on the back of his neck, and it makes him melt a little. He may be one of Sophie’s daddies now, but Aaron will always have a little dominance over him, and he’s really so okay with that. “Lay back for me?” Spencer does as asked, up against the pillows, and Aaron scoots up, guides Sophie there too. “Now you climb up on daddy, hands and knees.”

“On top of daddy?” she asks, like she’s confused, and he lays her on his body, situates her arms and legs the way he wants them, so she’s hovering over him, ready to be taken from behind. “Oh, god.”

“Yes, baby, you’re going to love this. Daddy is close enough to kiss and touch, but you’ll probably just whimper and moan on top of him and rub your little clit against his cock, get it hard again. You’re such a needy slut for your daddies, even after two orgasms, aren’t you?”

“So needy for my daddies, so slutty,” she agrees, and Spencer catches her lips in a kiss, can’t help himself. He’s breathing hard.

“You’ll be a good girl for me while daddy fucks you, won’t you, baby?” he asks, and she nods seriously.

“Yes daddy, I’ll be so good, I promise.” Aaron gets behind her, plants his hands around where Spencer’s shoulders are.

“I need daddy’s help with this,” he says, but he’s looking at Spencer. He picks up one of Spencer’s hands, presses it against Sophie’s thigh so he’s pinning her up against Aaron, holding her in place. To say that's hot is an extreme understatement; he puts his other hand on the other side. “You’re allowed to come, baby girl, but if this feels like too much, what do you say?”

“I say, ‘enough, daddy,’” she murmurs, looking back at him.

“Right, sweet girl, because even when we’re playing, when you tell me it’s enough I’ll stop right away and hold you until we figure out what went wrong.”

“Yes, daddy, because you love me.” He knows that, of course, but it’s the first time love has been said aloud, and it makes him wonder if he does. If he should. How he’ll know.

“Yes baby, I love you, but even if we weren’t in love, I respect you, and I care about you, and it's the right thing to do: that’s why we stop when you say enough.” Spencer thinks maybe that was a roundabout way of easing his mind, of saying it’s okay if he doesn’t love them, yet.

He’s suddenly a little more jealous of Sophie. He kind of wants Aaron for a daddy. He has a way of always saying just the right thing. “Good girl, being fucked so hard by daddy,” Spencer murmurs, holding Sophie against Aaron while he pounds inside her. Her fingers are fisted in the sheets, but there is no pain, only pleasure as she moves her hips quickly back and forth, her breathing hard. “Perfect, beautiful girl.”

“Thank you, daddy,” she breathes, her clit sliding up and down the length of Spencer’s cock while she bucks back against Aaron’s. “Thank you daddies for helping me come, and get full of daddy’s come.”

“You’re welcome, sweet girl,” Aaron pants into her ear. She’s so fucking good at this. “Your daddies love getting you off. You’re so pretty when you beg and whine and moan.”

“So pretty,” Spencer agrees, pressing harder against her thighs, and she whimpers, her legs shaking. “Everything okay, baby?”

“Yes, I just… it feels so good. What if I need to come twice? Am I allowed?” Aaron nips at her ear, starts fucking faster.

“Yes baby, come now. Come for your daddies right now.” Spencer sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, looking dazed and a little curious, like he’s not sure that will actually work. Aaron isn’t sure either.

Sophie does come, groaning, short, surprised sounds of pleasure, rubbing against Spencer’s half-hard cock just like his thigh earlier, and yeah, that’s his perfect, obedient girl. He grins.

“Good girl.” His words are full of pride, and he pulls her hair to the side, kisses her shoulder. “We’ve been practicing that, haven’t we sweetheart? It’s only happened one other time.”

“Yes daddy,” she mumbles, head down as he fucks her. “Thank you daddy.”

“Oh, you’re welcome, baby girl. You earned that. So good for us.” He grunts, gets close—her body's obedience drives him insane—and he presses up from his hands and knees to just his knees, puts his hands on her hips and works her hard with, short, quick thrusts.

“Oh, oh, daddy, yes, please.” She arches her back, fucks against him even though their hands are stronger, doing it better. “Daddies, oh, fuck. Your baby girl is being used so good, so close to being filled up.” Her voice is weak, and high, and Spencer looks up at him like he’s worried, but he just shakes his head. She gets like this, she can handle it.

“Yes baby, you’re being used by your daddies because that’s what we do. We fuck your tight pussy and your mouth and your ass, and you just take it, baby.” Sophie moans, loud and wanton, and he’s so close to losing it, and Spencer, gorgeous, perfect Spencer, presses two long fingers into her mouth.

Aaron is careful not to make any jerky movements, and she sucks on the fingers, whines around them, and when he comes, clutching her hips tight, she moans high, loud, lets the fingers fall out of her mouth; the final sound she makes is a cry, and he can’t tell if it’s pleasure or overstimulation.

“Have you had enough?” he asks her as he grinds against her, and she shakes in their hands, comes again. Her legs have given up, and she’s flat against Spencer, who looks like he just witnessed something incredible. Aaron figures he did.

“Enough, daddy,” she sighs, and he pulls out, watches his come drip out of her and onto Spencer’s balls. It’s a visual he’s going to have to reflect on later, to see if he can plan for it again in the future.

“You did so amazing,” he coos into her ear, running his hands up and down her back. Spencer is doing the same, and though it’s clear they’re losing her, she hums at their touches. “So perfect for us. We couldn’t ask for a better girl.”

“You’re so good, baby. So good for your daddies,” Spencer murmurs, and he looks over at Aaron. “I think she needs some water. I don’t want to move her.” Aaron smiles, kisses his lips.

“That’s part of aftercare for Sophie. I’ll get her some and then I’ll tell you all about it,” he promises.

On his way back from getting the water, he gets a warm, wet washcloth from the bathroom, wipes at her pussy while Spencer presses the cup to her lips. When she’s had a few sips, looks a bit livelier, he gets her to roll over onto the bed on her back, cleans up the front of her.

“Sophie likes to be held, and gently cleaned up—sometimes she wants a bath or shower, and she’ll say that. I usually do it all, wash her body, her face, her hair. It makes her feel more human after. She’ll just sag against you and let you scrub her. It’s very cute. Then I will ask if she needs more cuddles, or food, or sleep, or something else. As you know, she’s not shy about asking for what she wants.” Spencer nods, taking it in.

“What can we do for you, baby girl?” he asks, wrapping his arm around her; her eyes are closed, and her breathing is returning to normal. She sighs.

“I want to lay between my daddies and be cuddled. Am I clean enough?”

“You have to go pee first, but yes, I think you’ll be fine until morning. Then we can all take a nice hot shower and get you soapy and fresh, and figure out our plans for tomorrow.” She smiles softly.

“I forgot we get Spencer all weekend. If I didn’t scare him off,” she adds, and Spencer pulls her close, kisses her gently, but very affectionately.

“You didn’t scare me off, needy little thing. I can see why your daddy thought you needed another one, though. You are a handful.”

“She is a handful,” Aaron agrees, leaning in to kiss them both, “and you haven’t even seen her being bratty, needing to be disciplined.” Sophie groans, tired, probably figures he’ll want that tomorrow. He’s not sure yet, honestly. “But even then, she’s pretty fucking perfect. Just like you.” When Spencer looks at him, he thinks he sees a flicker of love, but it could just be the orgasm talking. Either way, he looks forward to holding the both of them, and a night of extremely restful sleep.

#aaron hotchner x original female character #hotch x original female character #latina original female character #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x original female character #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x aaron hotchner

86 notes · View notes

juniorgman187 · 4 years

Text

Things We Know By Heart (Spencer Reid Fluff)

Summary: Reader teaches Spencer how to slow dance in preparation for his wedding. The only problem? Reader’s in love with Spencer, and she isn’t the bride.

A/N: S/O to Kyla who bullied me throughout all of elementary school. Ik you’ve probably changed since then, but you literally traumatized and tormented me for more than six years of my life. So I felt like including you in this story as, “Kayla,” Spencer’s fiancé. Tehe, I’m petty like that. Couple: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Fluff Word Count: 6.5k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

I think we’d all like to believe that somewhere out there is our person. And somehow, someway, they’ll get to where they need to go, right where they belong.

With us.

That’s what I’d like to believe.

I’d like to think that no matter what happens along our journeys to each other, we’ll arrive at the same destination regardless.

But that isn’t necessarily true, is it?

Because maybe, my soulmate got lost along the way. They met somebody great, someone they think is their person, and they married that person. They had kids and eventually, grandkids with that person, even though, deep down - they knew it wasn’t right. They stayed with them anyway because their fear of being alone superseded their fear of being with the wrong person for life.

And what am I to do when that happens? When my person finds a different person.

Am I supposed to believe that the universe will be so kind as to give my soulmate the courage to leave their relationship behind and forge a new one with me?

Am I supposed to expect that the world will supply me with another person, the person I’m supposed to marry?

Or do I simply wait for my person to come to the conclusion that they’re meant to be with me after all and my naive entitlement to a soulmate is validated?

Is life really that magical?

This is the story of what happens when your person loves a different person.

∙•○⦾☉☼☉⦾○•∙

With his hand at the nape of my neck to support my head and his other hand flat against the small of my back, he dipped me backward, leaning with me as I arched my back and bent the leg closest to the crowd, pointing my foot to elongate my leg artistically. This was our ending position so I remained in it until the song ended. The two of us bowed to thank the audience and to conclude our performance. Roses fell at our feet while the sound of applause echoed in the room. I was never a fan of being the center of attention, but there was something about this overwhelming praise that was particularly blissful. It was intoxicating.

“I didn’t know you knew how to dance like that.” I gushed to my partner; my cheeks growing pink from the heat and the head rush I got.

He positioned his mouth right beside my ear so I could hear his words clearly over the rowdy cheering. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Princess.” said Morgan.

A gauntlet formed to clap for us both when we walked off the dance floor. Hand-in-hand, Morgan led me back to the table through the double file line of people. The team howled with excitement when they saw me and Morgan approaching.

“So this is what you two were keeping a secret from us? That you’re dance partners?” JJ had to ask.

“Yep. All those late nights and secret rendezvous.” Morgan said, shimmying his shoulders be suggestive of a sexual innuendo, which I was not a fan of. Out of mock offense, I chucked a small towel at him with a grouchy command to “Shut up!”

He took the towel to the face like a champ, laughing it off and dabbing his sweat away.

“I don’t know who was sexier up there - Princess or my Hubba Hubba!” Garcia squealed pretending to claw at Derek, reeling him over towards her.

“You looked like a natural up there, Y/N. Were you a dancer before?” Prentiss questioned while handing me a glass of water that I desperately gulped down.

“My mom sent me to dance classes as soon as I could walk.” I jokingly explained after gathering my hair into a makeshift ponytail and lifting it off of my neck, cocking my head to the side and fanning the back of my neck to cool down.

“Maybe you should teach Reid how to dance before the wedding. He’s got two left feet and I don’t think he wants Morgan to teach him how to waltz.” JJ quipped, making Derek throw his head back in laughter. The thought of Morgan and Reid slow dancing would truly be something - something hilarious. I laughed, too, until Reid’s voice interrupted me.

“Yeah, that’s actually a really good idea. Would you mind, Y/N? Kayla would be so happy.”

I thought he was joking, but his humorless expression told me otherwise.

“You want me to teach you how to dance?”

He pursed his lips and nodded, not understanding why I was so confused.

“Um . . . yeah. I can do that. Sure.” My tone wasn’t very convincing, but Reid’s optimism made him oblivious to my reluctance. He smiled and hugged me with one arm around my shoulder.

“I have to call Kay and tell her the good news.” Reid dashed away from the table, pulling out his phone to dial his fiancé.

I darted toward JJ with fury and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her into the bathroom for privacy.

“What the hell was that? ‘Oh, Y/N, you should teach him how to dance.’ You know how I feel about Reid!”

Rather than giving me hostility back, she broke into a smile. “Exactly! If you spend more time alone with him, maybe he’ll finally admit to himself that he shouldn’t be marrying Kayla,”

I rolled my eyes and turned my back away from her.

“We all know Spence would be happier with you.”

As JJ spoke, I trudged to the nearest sink, holding onto the sides for stability as the ground below me swayed. She followed me, rubbing up and down my back comfortingly.

“You know how he is. He keeps things to himself, until eventually they’re forced to come out. If you dance with him, maybe he’ll finally tell you he loves you without actually having to say it. Do this for him . . . and for you.” JJ gave me one last pat on the back before exiting the bathroom to leave me to my devices.

Normally, teaching a friend how to slow dance in preparation for his wedding would be sweet. It’d be a selfless gesture and an act of service for him that would show how much love there was in our friendship. In this case though, it was anything but.

For the six months that Spencer and Kayla had been engaged, the team was relentless in trying to end it. I tried to stay out of it in case all hell broke loose, but I couldn’t escape it. No - I was at the very center of it.

Before Reid even knew Kayla existed, he was head-over-heels in love with me. He’d ask me on coffee dates, wait by my desk for me, and he would always try to sit beside me at the round table or on the jet. It was sweet, really, but it could never go anywhere.

I was in a committed relationship with my high school sweetheart Patrick. (Maybe Spencer had a thing for unavailable girls).

I moved in with Patrick after graduating from college, and after years of working in the BAU (and years of Spencer loving me) Pat proposed. At first, being engaged brought me so much joy, but halfway into our engagement, something changed.

I was in Wisconsin, consoling a grieving widow. She was hysterical after I delivered the treacherous news of her husband’s gruesome murder. She eventually calmed down and proceeded to ask me about my engagement when she noticed my ring. I gave her the bare minimum, fabricated a couple things here and there, but then she asked me the million dollar question.

“Are you in love?” Her eyes glimmered with hope.

My immediate answer was a habitual “Yes, of course.” But after seeing how deeply this widow loved her late husband, I couldn’t say in good conscience that that answer was actually true.

That night I went to the hotel and lied on the bed, praying for clarity.

Perhaps I wasn’t actually in love with Patrick. Maybe we’d been together for so long that it just felt safe and comfortable and familiar. Maybe it was the fear of disrupting the arrangement of my life that stopped me from ending things sooner.

The fact of the matter was that I’d only ever known a life loving him, but that didn’t mean I was in love with him. Maybe I was settling for something with Pat, because I wasn’t sure if I could have a better relationship with anyone else. With all these doubts, I needed a sign.

A knock on the door interrupted my inner dialogue.

When I opened it, who else was standing there, but none other than Rossi.

“We need to talk.” He ordered.

He followed me back into the room and sat at the foot of the bed. He said he noticed something was off about me, and I admitted that there was. So that night, I took advice I probably shouldn’t have from the man with multiple failed marriages, but it was a sign - and it was good enough.

When we returned to Quantico, I asked Hotch for some personal time, which he was happy to permit. That same night I went home and broke off the engagement with Patrick.

I felt despicably cold when I watched him tear up and ask me, “Why are you doing this?”

There was truly no concrete moment in our relationship that incited my decision, but it was merely the realization that being with him wasn’t right, because how could I stand there watching him beg for a change of heart but still feel nothing?

Maybe I was much less than not in love. Maybe I didn’t feel a thing for him at all. Not hate. Not empathy. Not love. Just . . . nothing.

Completely indifferent.

Within the week of personal time I took, I spent most of it moving into Rossi’s guest house. After I came back from work, it took all of two hours before someone brought up the absence of the ring that I used to never take off, and I’d assumed they’d already noticed it the moment I walked in - they were just too afraid to ask.

“I ended things with Patrick.” I casually stated, not even looking up from my portfolio to give it the attention it probably deserved.

While the rest of the team’s jaws dropped on the floor, Rossi was fighting a smirk considering this wasn’t news to him and having seen everyone else’s reactions was a priceless moment for him.

There was a brief moment of awkward silence on the jet as the team processed my information, until finally Hotch cleared his throat and started debriefing again. In the seat next to me, Spencer was very poorly hiding his enthusiasm. Hearing I broke off the engagement was like a green light to make his move. And honestly, it was.

So I waited.

And I waited.

Then I waited some more for him to jump at the opportunity.

But he didn’t.

He never did.

Instead, he introduced Kayla into our lives, and eventually, they’d get engaged, too.

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t developed feelings for Spencer while I expected him to act upon his palpable affection for me. And because of my newfangled feelings, I could never tell another soul that I sincerely believed Spencer got engaged just to spite me - to show me just how painful unrequited love was.

The strangest part of it all, though, was that there was never a moment following the ending of my engagement and the birth of his own that showed me that his feelings went away. He never treated me differently or stopped talking to me. Even in the early stages of his relationship with Kayla, he continued to act like I was the only girl in his life. He was so consistent with his actions that it confused me.

Did he love me or not? And was I in love with him or not?

Evidently, the team seemed to have my answer.

“He loves you and you love him. It’s as simple as that.” Prentiss explained curtly.

Agreeing nods came from JJ, Morgan, and Garcia, who’d abducted me as soon as I exited the elevator that morning and snuck me into Garcia’s Bat Cave for an intervention.

“We need to stop this wedding.” Garcia demanded.

And since that glorious intervention, the team (minus Rossi and Hotch because Rossi seemed genuinely happy for Reid, and Hotch would definitely tell us it wasn’t our place) began trying to put a wedge in the relationship. I, however, made the smart choice not to be involved.

If I was trying to get him to love me, why would I do something that would surely make him hate me like breaking up his engagement? Plus, the blind optimist in me believed that if I was actually meant to be with Spencer, it would happen regardless of Kayla.

So anytime Morgan, JJ, Prentiss, and Garcia suggested something, I refused to participate. I was able to steer clear of any wedding crasher shenanigans up until JJ’s “slow-dance” suggestion.

If Reid knew the true intentions behind these dance classes, he surely wouldn’t be pleased, but clearly - he didn’t. Because when I walked out of the restroom and back to the table, Reid still had a huge grin that took up half of his face, making his eyes look nearly shut.

“Thank you again for doing this.” Reid beamed.

“Of course! What are friends for?”

Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia exchanged satirical glances at my choice of words.

What are friends for if not to purposefully set two people up in hopes of ending one person’s betrothal?

∙•○⦾☉☼☉⦾○•∙

Later that weekend . .

“Come in!” I called out, buckling the ankle strap of my heels.

The door opened partially and then all at once to reveal the one and only. I peeked my head out from behind a wall that was obstructing my view of him, immediately noticing a bouquet of lavender wrapped in twine.

“Oh my goodness, what is this?” I asked in pure delight as he handed me the pretty purple flowers.

“It’s a thank-you gift for agreeing to help me.” His lips formed a thin straight line, which was his version of a smile. A smile I appreciated whenever I was lucky enough to have caused it.

“They’re lovely, thank you.” I told him, hugging him briefly before fetching a vase from the kitchen to put them in.

“Oh, good, I’ll tell Kayla you liked them. She’s the one who picked them out.”

The glass vase nearly shattered the moment he said that, but luckily, my reflex skills spared the vessel.

How big of a fool was I for thinking that he gave me flowers out of the kindness of his heart because he knew lavender was my favorite? But then again I probably needed that brutal reminder of why he was here in the first place - for Kayla.

As I put the vase on the kitchen island, I spun around, brandishing a fake smile.

“So we should probably get started. I don’t wanna keep you here for too long.”

“There’s no rush. Kayla won’t be home until late at night.”

I tried not to think of the potential innuendo that lied within his statement, but Spencer wasn’t type to be disloyal, and I wasn’t going to be the woman to make him such a person.

“You look really nice, by the way.” I heard him say from behind me, catching a whiff of his cologne that was intoxicatingly sweet.

I did my best to not take the comment personally and let it get to my head, but I’d be lying if it didn’t elicit any response. I smiled to myself, which thankfully, he couldn’t see since my back was towards him as he followed me into my backyard.

“You smell different.” He added.

“Good different?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Is it a new perfume?”

I furrowed my brows. “No, it’s the same one I’ve been using for years.”

“Interesting,” I could feel him taking in this information, and I could hear the gears in his head turning at an even faster rate to spit out more information. “Did you know that you pick your soulmate by subconsciously reacting to pheromones that transmit their genetic compatibility? Yeah, there’s a relationship between attraction and scent, which dates back to our primal instinct. So if someone smells appealing to you, even if you don’t know it, it could relate to your attraction to them and vice versa.”

“Ah, then maybe I should consider changing my perfume to improve my love life.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I love the way you smell.”

In the back of my mind lied the unanswered question I neglected to voice, “But do you love me?”

When we reached the backyard, I heard him gasp in awe.

“It looks beautiful, Y/N. You did great.”

Nestled in my backyard was a dark wooden deck, surrounded by plentiful greenery. Lining the perimeter of the shiny wooden deck were asymmetrical rocks, while above us hung strands of fairy lights that cast a sheer golden glow on the entire scene. The ambiance was not for Spencer specifically, but I was happy that he appreciated it nonetheless.

“You ready?”

He signaled yes by putting his thumb up and so it began.

“Alright, so slow dancing can be broken into four easy steps, but first, you gotta know how to hold your partner correctly.”

Spencer and I took a step towards each other, and I could feel the nervous energy radiating off of him. I tried not to call attention to it, so I simply continued with my process. Outstretching my arms to form a T with my body, I guided him verbally.

“So I’m the follower. And you’re the leader. Got it?”

He nodded.

“Leader puts their right hand under the follower's left armpit and cups their hand around the follower's shoulder blade.”

He understood my instructions, and in the most awkward manner possible, he fumbled his way into the right position, albeit, not perfect.

“Now, hold my right hand as high as my eye level without raising my shoulder.”

Spencer was glaringly anxious, so I gave him a word of encouragement. “Hey, don’t be nervous. It’s just me, okay? And you’re doing great.”

I could see the nerves beginning to settle, translating into the conviction with which he took my hand, raising it at the perfect height.

“Great. Just like that.”

My praise brought out that smile in him that only ever came out on rare occasions. The kind where it’s brief, his teeth showing, a light chuckle escapes him, and he’s looking down as if he’s too shy to look at me.

“Okay, step two is basic footwork. Leader starts with their left foot and takes a step to the left. And then your right foot is going to meet your left foot and tap. The count is one-two.”

I watched as Spencer tried to process what I was saying.

“Do you want me to demonstrate first? And then you follow?”

He nodded rapidly as if saying yes wouldn’t be enough to communicate how much he needed me to lead. We broke apart so that I could turn my back towards him. I felt a cold draft blow under my dress as I spun on the ball of my feet, making my skirt flutter upwards majestically.

I felt him watching.

“Alright, so I’ll start and then you can catch on. It goes one-two.”

Left foot step. Right foot tap.

“Then three-four.”

Left foot step. Right foot tap.

“Then to the right this time. Five-six.”

Right foot step. Left foot tap.

“Seven-eight.”

Right foot step. Left foot tap.

“And back again. One-two. Three-four. Five-six. Seven-eight.”

My eight count continued until the click of my heels on the patio was joining by the sound of Spencer’s feet shuffling behind me. I knew if I turned around to check on him, it would only psych him out and make him more nervous, so I stayed facing forward so he wouldn’t feel that I was scrutinizing his technique.

After a minute or so of following me, I spun back around, catching his lingering stare in the region of my hips. He tried to play it off and pretend he wasn’t, but I felt it.

“You did really well tonight. I’m proud of you. I think that’s a good place to stop for today.”

He thanked me with another hug, the kind where we nuzzled his face in the crook of my neck.

God, I could feel him breathing on my shoulder.

I tried not to not to let myself indulge in it, reasoning that this was just a way for one friend to thank another, but I couldn’t help myself when the hug lasted longer than it should’ve. I tightened my embrace around him, drawing him in closer, and shutting my eyes as if taking my sense of sight away would heighten my sense of touch and magnify this feeling I never wanted to end.

“You take care, okay?” I said, rubbing my hand up and down his back to signal we should pull away, a signal he understood.

I was the first to walk away, merely because of the worry that I might sooner cry if I had to stay under these lights with him a moment longer.

I wasn’t sure I could do this again unless he was mine. Otherwise, I’d just be under the stars, dancing with the love of my life that I couldn’t have - feeling that feeling again, and not being able to act on it.

Is this what happens when your person loves somebody else?

∙•○⦾☉☼☉⦾○•∙

I know I said I couldn’t do it, but I did it anyway.

I guess that’s what love is. Doing things you don’t want to do because your care for the other person surpasses the discomfort. True love makes you do things like that, even if they aren’t in your best interest.

When he came over the next night, we danced again. Undoubtedly, he stumbled - even came close to falling - and yet, I fell in love all over again. After that, it got harder to separate dancing from my feelings.

The next day, we had a case. He came to my hotel room and we danced in the dim golden light of the hotel room’s chandelier. God, it was so ambient and romantic, I think I fell even harder for him - if that was even possible.

From then on, every time we were in the same place, he leapt at the opportunity to dance with me.

“Guys, look what I learned last night! Come, Y/N! Come on, come on.”

He waved me over eagerly with his hand, even helping me out of my seat in the round table just to speed up the process. All too excitedly, he assumed the leader’s position, and he danced me around the entire conference room in front of our coworkers. He spun me around the table, he dipped me in the doorway, he held me in his arms by the glass board.

Can you really blame me for falling in love?

“Wow, Y/N! I’m impressed. You really whipped him into shape.” JJ remarked with a clap.

I hid behind a faux smile, but Spencer was too elated to recognize the deceit. He was like that now. Maybe love made him more of a fool, more naive and blissfully unaware, whereas love made me more devoted and cognizant.

It went on like that for weeks. Practicing whenever and wherever we could.

He’d pull me into the hotel lobby at midnight to dance - not even batting an eye at the looming presence of the receptionist.

He’d ask me to come to his apartment and we’d dance in his living room or in the narrow hallway, just for fun.

When we were at Rossi’s, he’d drag me to the kitchen, with Rossi’s gentle music playing in the background, and we’d sway by the fireplace sometimes.

We danced once in the elevator when it got stuck. I never thought he’d be so fearless to do that, but he looked like he was genuinely enjoying himself, almost like he didn’t even notice we were stuck in an elevator.

While we waited for the jet, we’d danced on the tarmac, looking like a moving bundle of clothes, our movements stifled by our thick peacoats, layers of clothes, and scarfs.

After a dinner during cases, when we’d split a cab back to the hotel, he’d get me to dance on the sidewalk, even convincing me not to pay attention to the onlookers on the street, the honking cars, or the confused pedestrians. I was always embarrassed to be in the spotlight, but somehow with him, it was easy. It felt like it was just the two of us, dancing under that streetlight.

I never understood why people wanted to live in a moment forever, but for the first time that night, I did. That was a moment I wanted to freeze in time. I wish I could’ve stayed there forever. There in that moment, it really felt like it was our own little world. It was easy to believe we’d end up together, and we were the ones getting married, and we were in love.

But again, that was in that moment. In that singular, fleeting moment. And then life moved on, whether or not I was ready for it to.

The day of rehearsals inevitably came, and I wasn’t originally supposed to be at the wedding rehearsal since I wasn’t part of the ceremony, but Spencer asked me to be there, deliberately neglecting to tell me that the reason he wanted me to come was so that I could fill in for Kayla, which had I known that, I would’ve certainly declined.

When I walked in, the team was all there, sitting in the pews, with their heads turning to me where I was standing at the entrance of the church. It felt like an eerie nightmare that I was living out where I was Spencer’s bride walking down the aisle, and this was our wedding. I couldn’t tell you what was so nightmarish about it - probably because none of it felt right - but I was sick to my stomach when Spencer gestured for me to meet him at the altar.

“What’s going on?”

“Kayla had a last minute dress alteration in Norfolk and got stuck in traffic. She won’t make it for this rehearsal, but she’ll be there in time for the dinner rehearsal.”

“So why am I here?”

“I wanted to practice my vows on you, if that’s okay.”

I gulped hard, trying to swallow the lump in my throat to open up my suddenly-closing airway.

“Um, I don’t really know if -”

“Please, Y/N. I’m just nervous that I might mess up-”

How could I say no? True love makes you do crazy things, even if they aren’t in your best interest, right?

I reluctantly agreed.

Spencer’s hands were trembling and I could see it by the way his notecards were shaking, even from the fact that he brought notecards alone, and that he didn’t already memorize his vows. I wanted to put my hands around his and hold them to settle his unsteadiness, but I knew that wasn’t my place. I figured my words would do a better job at not crossing a boundary that was already crossed.

“Hey,” I comfortingly whispered. “It’s just me, okay?” Calling back those words from the first time we danced months ago. “You don’t need those notecards. Just speak from the heart.”

And sure enough, his heart spoke.

“When people used to tell me stories about what love felt like and what is what, they always said they fell in love with that person. Like it was sudden and all at once, but with you - I walked into love with you. With my eyes wide open, choosing to take each and every step along the way. I never believed in fate or destiny, but after I met you, I finally believed. I believed that we are only fated to do the things that we’d choose anyway. And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality. I’d find you and I’d choose you.”

My breath hitched as I got lost in his eyes and how they were looking right at me, completely unmindful of the way everyone around us saw how he spoke to me.

I think he even got lost too, because what he said next, didn’t even seem to register in his mind before it came out of his mouth.

“I love you . . . Y/N.”

Gasps rang through the church, ricocheting off the high ceiling, and in that moment I knew, I knew he was going to kiss me.

He lunged forward in the heat of the moment. Clearly not thinking straight, he held my face in his hands, and I swear to God, I could’ve kissed him back.

I would’ve.

“Spencer?”

Every single head in the church turned toward the small voice, too distinct to misplace.

“Kayla, wait!’

And there I stood, alone at the front of the altar, watching him run after her.

∙•○⦾☉☼☉⦾○•∙

I sat by my phone the entire afternoon, waiting for someone - anyone - to update me. No one ever ended up texting or calling, so I figured the dinner rehearsal wasn’t cancelled. At least, in that case, my dress didn’t go to waste.

After spending an ungodly amount of time curling my hair and putting on my makeup, even achieving a smoky eye look, I finally slipped on my navy-blue, satin, floor length dress, donning nude heels and a dainty gold necklace with a single diamond pendant that laid right on my sternum.

It was a shame that this was a moment where I should’ve felt at my prettiest, and yet, I’d never felt so ugly.

I was riddled with the guilt of knowing I would’ve kissed Spencer if Kayla hadn’t walked in. I felt even worse that I was so consumed by his speech that I didn’t even hear her come in.

How long had she been standing there? Long enough to watch what I knew everyone else saw? These questions never left me. Not even when I pulled into the site of the dinner rehearsal.

Clutching the front of my dress to walk without resistance, I came to the entrance, and opened the door to reveal . . . nothing.

Staff was removing chairs and tables.

Waiters were collecting plates and utensils.

And Spencer was standing in the very middle of the empty room, watching it all happen silently, like he was just the shell of a man.

“Spencer!” I called out from the entrance, in no hurry to meet him at the middle of the room. He turned on his heels, with his hands sheepishly shoved into his pockets.

“Gosh, I’m sorry, Y/N. I should’ve called to let you know it got cancelled, but um, Kayla broke my phone.”

“Well, it’s time you got a new phone anyway.” I chuckled, which thankfully earned a chuckle from him, too.

“What happened, Spencer?” My voice was quiet, as if it was any decibel higher it would sound more like a scold than genuine concern.

“She, um, she told me she needed some time to think. And I, I told her to come to the rehearsal dinner if she still wanted to get married and,” He mirthlessly chuckled. “Well, you already know.” His words were chosen carefully to deliberately avoid what he hadn’t yet come to terms with.

She didn’t come.

I wasn’t yet sure whether or not to console him or to berate him for what he almost did, but I chose the former.

“I’m so sorry, Spence.”

He looked up from the ground, still managing to avoid my gaze, by looking up at the ceiling, and pretty much everywhere my face wasn’t.

“I understand if you want to leave right now. I just need to pay the owner and I’ll be out of here.”

I shook my head instantly. “No, I’ll be right here. If you want me to be.”

He bit his lip to stop a sob from escaping. “Yeah,” He nodded, cowering his head. “I’d like that a lot.”

As soon as I saw his cheeks get red, I took it as a cue to approach him and hug him. He was grateful for my compassionate touch, immediately opening up his arms to hug me back. His embrace around me was needy and desperate, and it felt like he was clawing at my dress, acting out of anger that the fabric was stopping us from being that much closer.

With his shoulder digging into the spot right underneath my chin, it was hard to utter the words, “You look really handsome, by the way.” I said, finally acknowledging his light beige suit and white button up shirt.

“Thanks.” I heard him mumble into my shoulder.

“Kayla doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

To my surprise, he didn’t recoil, flinch, or so much as react to her name. Instead, he simply pulled away, wiping the moisture under his nose, and straightening out his suit.

“We should . . . we should probably talk about what happened earlier, right?”

I sighed and shook my head. “Not if you don’t want to. We can save that conversation for another day.”

He looked appreciative of my avoidance, but I knew he wanted to talk about it.

“Hey, excuse me,” He stopped a staff member by clutching their arm gently. “Do you mind, actually? Leaving two seats behind.”

The staff member complied, doing as he said, and leaving two chairs behind, setting one right across from the other. I took my seat, and Spencer took his.

“I probably shouldn’t have spoken from the heart, huh?” He joked, finally seeing the humor in his situation.

“No, it was good that you did.”

“You think so?”

“Definitely. I think Kayla would’ve appreciated it.” All too quickly he responded with, “I wasn’t talking about Kayla.”

I was talking about you, his somber eyes said.

I looked away from his gaze immediately, trying to find a reprieve from the conversation that I was doing my best to avoid.

“It was a really good speech. It sounded so natural. Like something you knew by heart.”

“Something I knew by heart?” He didn’t seem to understand what I meant.

“Yeah, some things we just know by heart. Like the lyrics to our favorite song, or a recipe, how to dance,” We both chuckled at the reference. “Or . . . how to love.”

“Do you think we know who to love by heart or do you think we make that choice ourselves?”

“I think it’s both. I think we can’t control the person we’re meant to love. That, by some miracle, we’re handed this person that complements us better than anyone else. But I also think it’s our choice on whether or not we pick them. Maybe we aren’t willing to stand the test of time and wait for our person, so we don’t pick them and settle for someone else. Or maybe we do pick them and we live out the rest of our lives together. I think that’s what makes love so special. It’s a person choosing you over and over again.”

Isn’t that what we all want? To feel chosen?

“And what if we make the wrong decision? What if we’ve met who we’re supposed to love, but we chose to love another?” His eyes were searching within mine for the words that I wasn’t saying out loud. Out of fear that my eyes might expose me to Spencer, I looked away.

“I think -”

Spencer cut me off. “Look at me.”

My head didn’t move, but I shifted my gaze just as he wanted.

“When two people are meant to be, nothing and no one can end them. They may get lost a time or two on their journey, but true, real love will always conquer. Nothing can compete with them. Others can only attempt to fill a void. And eventually, the two will be reunited. That’s the beauty of true love; you always end up with the right person, at the right time, regardless of any other factor.”

Quiet fell upon us two after I said my piece. My breathing slowed down and the knot in my stomach came undone. The lump in my throat disappeared.

All my bodily barriers broke down. There were no more emotional walls up between the two of us anymore. I was completely vulnerable - nothing to hide me. Not even my eyelids could hide the windows of my soul. Spencer had already seen into them.

He saw my soul, my secrets.

“Dance with me.” He extended his hand in the air between us two. With no hesitation, I accepted his offer and followed his lead. He’d never danced so naturally before. Somehow, his stiffness had withered away. The thick tension that used to loom in the air above us two dissipated. Something new replaced the contents of the atmosphere.

Love.

Unbounded.

Unrestrained.

Unbridled.

Limitless love.

Spencer drew me in closer so my head could lay on his chest. Previously, I was looking at his face, but now the view was of our connected hands. My fingers were intertwined with his, and I didn’t even notice how his thumb was rubbing small circles on the back of my hand until I saw it with my own eyes.

Had he always done that, but I couldn’t feel it until I saw it for myself? If so, what else had he been doing that I couldn’t feel?

“Loving you.”

I removed my head from his shoulder after hearing him answer the question that I pondered silently, wondering if suddenly just acquired the superpower of telepathy.

“What?”

“Loving you. That’s all I know how to do by heart.”

A wave of relief came over me when I realized he hadn’t read my mind, he was just simply adding to our conversation from before.

“That’s not true,” I mirthlessly chuckled. “There’s lots you know how to do. You know thousands of chess permutations, you know how to geographically profile - you know how to dance now.” I countered playfully.

He shook his head. “I know how to do those things, but sometimes, none of it makes sense. I used to lose matches against Gideon, sometimes the comfort zone is inaccurate, and until today, I couldn’t dance very well,” He chortled. “But loving you. That always made sense. It never failed me or disappointed me and it’s so all-consuming that if I try to love anyone else - it just doesn’t make sense.”

Of all the words in my vocabulary, each of them were failing me. I was rendered speechless. Spencer cleared his throat and looked away for a moment, before finding the nerve to say it.

“I choose you.” He proclaimed.

So, I was right.

There are some things we know by heart.

Lyrics to our favorite song.

A recipe.

How to dance . . . how to love.

And who to choose.

“I choose you, too, Spencer.”

. . . So to answer my question from before, is life really that magical? . . .

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

1K notes · View notes

moon-light-jukebox · 4 years

Text

Learning Styles - [Reid x Reader]

Summary: Reader has worked hard to get to the FBI, but a misunderstanding has her feeling insecure.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG

Content Warning: Mention of normal criminal minds stuff briefly.

A/n: I got these two requests and they were so similar I decided to combine them. I hope that’s okay, but I feel like the stories would have been almost identical.

Requests: - I have a fic suggestion. Reader pretends to be dumb but is actually really smart. I’m thinking of that quote about marilyn ”you have to be really smart to pretend to be dumb”. One day spencer realizes that reader is smarter than she lets people know.

- Hi! Can I request a spencer reid x reader fic where reader isn't great with numbers but brilliant with behaviour and humanities (i.e. literature, history, sociology, up to you)? Maybe a dash of insecurity to spice things up?

-- Learning Styles --

My favorite professor in college told me that everyone learns differently; what works for one person won’t work in the same way for another. We are all different human beings that are shaped in different ways.

I had always been oddly insecure about my intelligence level. One of my earliest memories was my mother yelling at me while I sat at the kitchen table when I was in first grade. I was the only kid in my class who still hadn’t learned how to read. I just didn’t understand. All of my friends were progressing so much quicker than me and my mother was losing patience.

It wasn’t until my grandmother stepped in that everything changed. My elementary school teacher was training children to read by memorizing sight words, a concept I didn’t understand. When my grandmother sat down and taught me phonics. I distinctly remember everything snapping into place.

I was in 1st grade and reading at a 7th-grade level by Christmas. Once I finally understood my learning style, I really began to thrive.

But no matter what I did, I could still hear my mother yelling at me, telling me I was stupid.

In my line of work, I see just how much the throw away comments that parents make can shape a child’s development. Luckily, those comments just made me a bit insecure, not a murderer.

Up until I was 22, I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do beyond this desire I had to help people. SSA David Rossi had come to guest lecture in one of my abnormal psych classes during undergrad. After I heard him speak, I was done. I couldn’t have done anything else with my life. I had obtained my master’s in psychology before I joined the FBI.

It took some time, but I was finally assigned to the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico. I was so excited on my first day that I remember my hands physically shaking.

Until they weren’t.

I can still remember my first day so clearly. SSA Hotchner had introduced me to the team, saving the “best” for last.

“And this is Dr. Spencer Reid,” he had said. “He’s our expert on…well, everything.”

Reid was my age and he had his Ph.D. I remember feeling awed by him.

Until I didn’t.

"I hold 3 Ph.D.'s in Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics. I also have BAs in psychology and sociology."

I remember my jaw almost hitting the floor. While I was impressed by him, I wasn’t insecure about my place on the team.

Until I was.

My grandmother may have helped me master reading, which opened the door to me mastering anything else I put my mind to…except math.

I was fine at statistics, luckily. You couldn’t get a psych degree without a ton of statistics work. But statistics was different, I could see the practical use of statistics. I just couldn’t wrap my head around calculus or algebra.

On my first case with the team, Reid had calculated some insane mathematical equations on the whiteboard, running down the probabilities and applying a mathematical formula to the unsub’s behavior.

It wasn't until later, after the case was solved when I was standing in front of the whiteboard that my confidence was hit. Reid had come into the room and saw me looking at his work.

“Don’t bother trying to understand it,” he had said. “You’d have to be a genius to understand what I do.”

I didn’t have a word to describe the feeling that settled in my stomach at his words, I wasn’t sure such a word existed. The feeling was cold and heavy, but also made my body burn with shame.

I had just offered him a tight smile before I left the room.

On the plane home I had made a decision. I was no match for Dr. Reid, I doubt anyone was. So, I would take myself out of the competition. I couldn’t get hurt if I wasn’t playing the game.

And that is how the next year of my life went. I allowed Dr. Reid to explain things to me that I was an expert in, never saying a word. I acted like I didn't understand concepts that I had written papers on. The only thing I didn't dumb down was my profiling skills. Those were necessary for my job and for saving lives.

I don’t think anyone realized what I was doing.

Until they did.

The team had been called to Colorado to assist in capturing a serial rapist.

All of our cases bothered me, every last one…but something about ones with this vile element really struck me.

We had the unsub’s name, Tyler Childress. He had spent time in prison for sexual assault and burglary. It seems while he was in prison, he spent time perfecting his methods; it was only by pure luck that we found his fingerprint inside the victim’s house, making him the main suspect.

When we paid Mr. Childress a visit, he had managed to get the drop on Prentiss and Morgan, allowing them to escape. Morgan was furious.

All of us were sitting around a conference table in the local prescient while we let Dr. Reid talk.

I was trying to be calm, I was, but my nails were digging into my palm so deeply I was worried I was about to draw blood.

“Guys,” the expert on everything said. “He has to have some sort of accomplice.”

Rossi just sighed. “But the profile doesn’t point to him being the sort to do well with others; he’s a narcissist.”

Reid wouldn’t budge. “I know that, but he isn’t intelligent enough to pull this off alone. He’s just not. He had an IQ test done when he was 20. He scored in the mentally handicapped range. I’m telling you he has to have help.”

“Are you sure, Reid?” Hotch asked.

“Positive. I have his results right here.”

“IQ tests aren’t a good measure of intelligence on their own.”

I was so startled that someone had contradicted Dr. Reid that it took me a second to realize it was me who had contradicted him.

He turned to face me; his brown eyes wide. “What?”

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. “IQ tests aren’t a good measure of intelligence.”

Dr. Reid laughed. He laughed at me like my comment was funny. “I don’t know where you heard that,” he began.

But I interrupted him. "IQ tests are classist and oftentimes racist. The man who invented the IQ test never intended for it to be used as a complete measure of intelligence. He regretted making the test.”

Reid sputtered. “You…it’s not racist!”

“Yes. It. Is.” I ground out. “If it wasn’t it wouldn’t be illegal to administer an IQ test to a black child in the state of California.”

"Wait, it's illegal to do that?" JJ asked, her brows drawn together.

"Yes. There was a court case in the 1970s over it. Teachers were using tests to separate white children from black children. The black children were put into special education classes they didn’t need to be in. Just because the teachers didn’t want those children in their classrooms.”

I should have stopped, but I was on a role. “They’re also inherently classist. How can you expect a child to answer a question about Romeo and Juliet if they haven’t heard of it?”

That had Dr. Reid scoffing. “Everyone has heard of it.”

I shot to my feet, unable to hold back anymore. “No, they haven’t. Children in underfunded schools that don’t have access to resources might not have heard about the most famous play in history because their school wasn’t able to provide the materials to teach them about it. There was a study done in a remote part of Russia right after the IQ test was invented. Every. Single. Person. Scored in the mentally handicapped range. Because they didn’t understand.”

I knew my voice was rising but I couldn’t stop myself. “Once the researcher took the questions and applied them to things they understood, they all scored as above average. They didn’t understand math as an abstract concept, but they understood it when it was applied to their businesses, to something they actually knew about.”

I cleared my throat. “The test isn’t fair, it’s not equal. Tyler Childress didn’t go to a good school and he didn’t have a stable home life. You can’t use one measure to calculate his intelligence. He’s gotten away with 7 assaults so far that we know of. He’s not stupid.”

The entire room was silent once I had stopped speaking. I couldn’t bring myself to regret it though. What kind of person was I if I played dumb because I was afraid of being mocked when a monster was out there attacking women? No, those women deserved to have me at my best.

And I’ll be damned if I wouldn’t give it to them.

Rossi spoke first, his eyes twinkling when he looked at me. “Took you long enough,” he said. “But y/n is right. We trust the profile; we don’t let personal bias cloud the way. That’s how we catch this bastard.”

Later that day, we were cleaning up the conference room while the local police processed Tyler Childress.

Pathological narcissism is a complex disorder, but we followed the profile and Rossi was right. Hotch set up a press conference in which JJ and Prentiss took center stage. They tore Childress’s ego to shreds on live television.

His narcissism wouldn’t allow that to slide. He got angry, he made a mistake, and we got him before anyone else got hurt.

While the cat was out of the bag about my intelligence and that made me nervous, I couldn't regret any of it. I got to be the one to tell our last victim that we got him. I got to hug her while she cried because now that he was locked up, she felt like her healing could begin. I wasn’t sure if my rant about structural racism and the classism of IQ tests actually helped anything, but that didn’t really matter. There was one less monster in the shadows.

Today was a good day.

I was alone in the conference room, untacking photos from the evidence board when I heard someone clear their throat from behind me. I turned my head to meet the wide, honey brown eyes of Dr. Spencer Reid.

Oh boy, I thought. “What’s up, Reid?”

He shifted from foot to foot, his hands twisting in front of him before he crossed his arms over his chest. “I asked Garcia to look into you.”

My eyebrows drew together. “I’m pretty sure any nefarious things I had done would have popped up on my initial background check.”

“Right, I didn’t mean like that,” he mumbled, the apples of his cheeks turning pink. “I asked her to look into you academically.”

Shit.

He went on. “You double majored in psychology and sociology before you got a master’s in cultural psychology. She pulled your thesis. I just read it.”

“I see.” I turned my attention back to the board.

“You also guest lecture on cross-cultural psychology at Georgetown several times a year. And you’ve co-authored two papers since I’ve known you.”

Meh, it’s three. But that doesn’t matter. “Did you read those too?”

I took his silence as confirmation.

He was so quiet I almost thought he had left, but the crackle of energy I felt in the air told me he hadn’t. “Do you need something, Dr. Reid?”

"Why didn't you get your Ph.D.?"

I had answered that question many, many times. “I didn’t need a doctorate to do what I wanted to do. I didn’t want to waste time. Once I figured out what I wanted, I charged at it.” Which was a far more honest answer than most people got about that from me.

“W-why did you pretend to be dumb?” he rasped out, causing me to look back at him. “32 days ago, you let me explain the long-term effects of gerrymandering and the complex causes of poverty.”

“Of course, I did,” I said, frowning. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“One of the papers you authored was about generational poverty.”

“Just because I know a lot about something doesn’t mean I can stop listening to information. That sort of thinking breeds ignorance.” I smiled, unable to not tease him just a little bit.

Reid took a step closer to me. “You didn’t answer my question.”

I just shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t have a good answer.”

In all the months I had known him, Spencer Reid had never touched me, not even so much as a finger brushing against mine when he handed me something. That fact is why I was so startled when I felt his hand on my upper arm, turning me towards him.

He licked his lips, his eyes darting around. “Did everyone else know?”

I shook my head, my teasing mood long gone. "No. I mean, clearly, Rossi suspected but…No, I didn't tell anyone else."

“I just don’t understand. You’re brilliant.”

I scoffed. “No, I’m not. I’m decent a psychology, sociology, stuff like that. I can’t apply math to behavior to find patterns. I can’t even calculate how much something is gonna cost when it’s on sale without a calculator half the time.”

‘What do you…” Reid trailed off. “Wait. The very first case. You were looking at the evidence board.”

Goddamn eidetic memory.

The boy wonder was on a roll now. “I told you that you’d have to…is that why you didn’t tell me?”

What else could I do? I just nodded.

Those brown eyes closed, and he let out a groan. “I said that because I thought you were going to…I was worried…” He huffed out a breath and opened his eyes. “I wanted you to like me. I didn’t want you to think I was just a nerd.”

Now I was confused. “Why?”

Spencer Reid’s blush went all the way down his neck. “Well…I just…Morgan said I should just talk to you. But I’m not…I’m not good at that. I panic, then I start to ramble. Like I’m doing now…”

“Reid,” I interrupted. “I’m not playing dumb now. I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I like you,” he blurted out right before he smacked both of his hands over his face. “Oh my god. I sound like a child.” I thought I heard him mutter idiot under his breath. “Emily says that my IQ gets slashed to 60 whenever I see a pretty girl.”

Much like that moment all those years ago when I was a child, I felt everything click into place. Oh.

I couldn't suppress my smile any longer. I rose up on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Well, we've already gone over how IQ tests aren't a good measure of overall intelligence."

With that, I quickly stepped away and hurried out of the conference room, leaving a stunned genius in my wake. When I turned back to look at him, I saw his fingers brushing over the place where my lips had just been.

Permeant Taglist : @rachelxwayne @pinkdiamond1016 @sickeninglyshoujo @justagirllookingforherplace @nanocoool @andiebeaword @imjusthereformggcontent @rainsong01 @violentvulgarvolatile @mys2425 @al3xmnd @imfalling-inlove @cielo1984 @shadyladyperfection @kissingvalentino

comment/message to be added 😊

#Spencer Reid #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fan Fiction #Spencer Reid fan fiction #Spencer Reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #Spencer Reid x you #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer read x y/n #Dr. Spencer reid #dr. reid

1K notes · View notes

spencers-dria · 3 years

Text

Lost at Sea

Single Dad Spencer x fem reader

Summary: This is kind of a little Christmas-adjacent fluff peice where Spencer is a single dad, completely clueless while Christmas shopping for his daughter. Reader sees him struggling and decides to help, completely unaware of where it will lead them. I imagined him sometime after the show ended, kinda with his somewhat longer curly hair and glasses. This story is completely fluff and I make no apologies.

Well, that was about the third loud huff from the man standing down the isle from me. This one was so loud it blew his hair around a bit, making it even messier. I try to focus on the task at hand, finding the perfect gift for my best friend’s little girl.

Diana was the closest thing I had to a daughter of my own. Despite Anne’s protesting, I took every opportunity to spoil her daughter rotten. The adorable and precocious little girl had me absolutely wrapped around her finger. I have to fight the urge to buy everything I thought would put a smile on her face, my favorite sight in the world.

But now, I was repeatedly distracted by the clearly frustrated man standing next to me, eyeing the girls toy section like it was an enigma. I decide to approach him, but he’s still to lost in his thoughts to notice.

I clear my throat while giving him a light tap on the shoulder.

“Can I help you with anything?”

“Oh I didn’t realized you worked here.”

“I don’t.” I smile sweetly at him. “You just look like you’re trying to solve the worlds most challenging puzzle over here.”

He meets my eyes with a sheepish smile, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. I try my best to ignore just how attractive this man is. He’s definitely not available.

“I guess in a way I am. I’m trying to buy a Christmas gift for my daughter. It’s safe to say that I know absolutely nothing about girls. I want it to be absolutely perfect, and I just know whatever I get won’t be half of what she deserves.”

“Well I can help with that. How old is she and what does she like?”

He pushes his glasses up his nose, giving me a moment to ogle just how attractive his hands are.

“Her name is Alice, she’s 5. I know she loves Disney princesses. Ariel is her favorite I think... but even once I narrow it down to that, there is still just so much. Who knew shopping for little girls could be so overwhelming.”

I can’t help but giggle a bit at his helplessness. He starts to laugh along with me.

“I’m Spencer by the way.” I see him hesitate a moment before slowly extending a hand. I look at his extended hand with a slight feeling of guilt, knowing he’ll most likely judge me based on my response.

“Oh I’m sorry I hope you don’t think I’m rude but... I don’t really shake hands. It’s not personal it’s just all the germs. I don’t deal so well with them.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, but I can’t imagine why. Is he actually laughing at me? Seems a bit rude.

“You know I used to be the exact same way. I suppose having a kid has changed me more than I realize sometimes.”

I nod, quietly, knowing I can’t really relate.

“I’m sorry you’re probably really busy. Are you shopping for your daughter too?”

Unsure as to the reason why, I’m suddenly embarrassed to admit that I’m not actually a parent. Just a single loner in their mid-thirties, living vicariously through their best friend and their.

“Oh no, just a friend. I’m more than happy to help you out with Alice. If you want my best ideas though, I’ve got to be honest, a lot of it is online. I can show you the links real quick, I’d you’d like?”

“I feel like this would be easier if we just... Would you like to grab coffee? I know a great place just around the corner. You can show me all your ideas and hopefully we can pick out something for her together.”

Up until this point I didn’t want to make assumptions, but it’s becoming more clear that Spencer is most likely a single dad. I don’t want pry, but I can’t help but wonder what happened to her mom.

I try to hide my excitement at his offer.

“You had me at coffee. And I almost forgot, I’m Y/N!”

————————————————

Three hours and several cups of coffee later, I knew a small part of the life story belonging to Spencer Reid. He was an FBI agent, part of a team who hunts down serial killers. A profiler. Or former profiler? He used to work in the field, until he had to raise his daughter alone. He had been fallen hard and fast for someone who left him as soon as another opportunity, or person rather, had presented themselves. They left him a single dad, all alone with his 2 year old daughter, Alice.

Being a single parent, he knew he couldn’t continue a job that put him in harms way on a regular basis. He never had a problem putting his life on the line for others, but Alice had become his number one priority, without question. Switching to a desk job had allowed him to continue as a consult for the team while also teaching at the University.

As I looked over his attire, I couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t quite give off professor vibes at first glance. His cozy maroon sweater and glasses, perhaps. But his curly mop of disheveled hair and goofy grin made him look more like a cuddly muppet character. The more I listen to him talk the more I notice his intelligence. I should have known, given his professions. It didn’t take long to realize he was well out of my league, but he was kind enough to give me the time of day for whatever reason.

I keep drowining in his eyes or getting pulled in by the movement of his hands as he speaks. Listening to his voice is like gently floating down like a river. I don’t even notice when he’s stopped talking.

“What about you?”

“Hmm?” I pull myself out of my daze, trying not to look as enchanted by him as I feel.

“Oh uhh, nothing to tell really.” I shrug, picking up my coffe, hoping he’ll change the subject while I sip on my caramel latte.

“I find that hard to believe. What do you do?”

“I just run a small cafe in town.”

I feel as though hearing about my life is about as interesting as watching water boil, but Spencer could have fooled me. He looks genuinely invested as I tell him about how I earned my bachelors and masters in business management, eventually opening up The Cottage. I didn’t have any experience in the food industry, but my friend Nicole had immediately been on board with the idea of coming on as my cook.

“It sounds wonderful. I’ll definitely have to stop by sometime.” He smiles at me before sipping on the last of his second cup of coffee.

“You’re welcome to bring Alice, only if you want to. And Nicole makes a killer risotto!”

“Of course! ...Oh! I knew we were forgetting something. Alice!”

“The entire reason you asked me here, just a minor detail.” I can’t help but snicker at our absent mindedness, how easy it was to be completely swept away in the tide that was Spencer Reid.

His face fades a bit, though I’m not sure why. He simply nods, folding his hands in his lap.

“Sorry if this is weird but umm... can I see a picture of her? It’s just, well, it might help me to get a better idea. You don’t have to, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Oh yeah!”He pulls out his wallet, unfolding a long strand of small photos, most of just his daughter, a few featuring him as well.

She was beautiful, brown eyed girl with soft, brown locks. She clearly had her fathers curly hair and soft, doe eyes. If it wasn’t obvious from the way he spoke about her, the pictures made it incredibly apparent that this girl was his whole world. Pure joy radiated from the photo of the two of them. I look up to to see the exact same look on his face, with a smile so big that his eyes crinkle.

That is the moment I knew he had me. I would follow this man anywhere, this adorable dad I had met on the toy isle only hours ago. The photos made it evident that she was just as crazy about him. It was almost too adorable for my heart to handle.

I take a deep breath before meeting his gaze, which is much closer now as we lean in over the table to look at the pictures.

“She’s beautiful.”

He looks down at the photos again with glassy eyes. “I know.”

He clears his throat and scoots back into his seat.

“So what did you have in mind?”

“Well, I have seen this online story that makes really pretty hand-made dresses that mimic the ones of each Disney Princess. Maybe a couple of her favorites? They also make knit blankets that look like mermaid tales. Or maybe a stuffed animal of one of her favorite characters? What little kid doesn’t like stuffed animals, right?”

Spencer nods along, absorbing all the suggestions I throw his way. After awhile, I help him settle on ordering a few we both like.

“I can’t wait to give these to her! She always loves Christmas morning. We open presents together and eat the cookies we made the night before while binging as many Christmas movies as possible.”

There was that smile again, the one he got when he talked about her. I wonder if she knows how lucky she is to have a dad that cares so much.

I can’t help but smile as well at the thought, which he quickly interrupted with “So what are your Christmas plans?”

I feel myself turning slightly red at the embarrassment of having to admit that I have none. Nothing much that is.

I shrug, hoping he won’t ask any more about it.

“Do you get to see your family?”

And there it was. The question I was desperately hoping to avoid. I know my inability to meet his gaze and consistent pulling at my fingers would be a dead give away of my uncertainty about speaking on the subject. I search for the best way to answer without seeming like I’m overcome with self pity. To be fair, I wasn’t. I didn’t mind spending the holidays alone. Not anymore. I had grown comfortable with the silence and comfort that comes from living alone.

The soft crackling of the fire, a fuzzy blanket, and a warm cup of hot chocolate had become my closest companions of each winter season. I spent many evenings curled up by the window, watching the snow dust the city as soft music flowed through my drafty, top floor apartment. Sometimes I’d dance and twirl around in my pajamas and socks, slipping and sliding on the wood floors. So yes, it was safe to say I truly enjoyed the time I spent getting to know myself.

“I uh, they’re not really around anymore. I was adopted by my parents when I was still a baby. They didn’t have any family but each other and then, well, me. I lost them to a car crash a few years back.”

I can tell he’s listening, but the one thing I always expect to see isn’t there. Pity. Instead I see kindness and understanding, and my heart welcomes it fully.

“Nicole is on vacation with her family for the holidays so it’s just me. I’m pretty used to it though, I make my own fun.” I give him smile to reinforce my point.

His eyes glaze over and I can tell I’ve lost him to a deep thought, as I see the gears turning in his head. He opens his mouth to speak before closing it again, and finally spouting out: “Come have dinner with us. On Christmas Eve.”

I had half expected a pity invite. A “why don’t you”. A “would you like to”. But Spencer hadn’t asked me. He had told me, in a way that left no room for arguing. I could tell he wasn’t going to budge on the matter. Whether it was the insistent but kind tone or the seriousness in his eyes, I don’t know. But I knew there was no use in fighting it. Not just the invitation, but the feelings quickly flooding my heart. Spencer Reid was like a fast approaching storm, but I didn’t want to outrun the rain. I wanted to dance in it, drenched in the downpour.

And that’s exactly what I did. As soon as I saw the look on his face when I said yes, it crashed over me like a wave, leaving me breathless and lost in the sea of my emotions.

#dr spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer x reader #original story #spencer reid x y/n #writing #Christmas #single dad #dad Spencer #Spencer and daughter #Spencer #Spencer Reid #spencer x y/n #Spencer x gn #Christmas shopping #fluff

255 notes · View notes

imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

Text

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 4 | S.R.)

Summary: Spencer and Reader go on their first date. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW 18+) Content Warning: Adults w/ Age Gap (10yr), exhibitionism, masturbation, fingering, spanking, penetrative sex, Prof/Student fantasy Word Count: 8.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

—————————————————

When I was younger, I hated going to museums. Granted, I'd only ever really had the opportunity to go during school field trips. The crackling, barely coherent ramblings of a stranger through a loudspeaker had never been my idea of fun.

In fact, I'd been to that exact museum before. But the present time was a little different. That time, I was enthralled with the objects on the other side of the glass. With wide eyes and childlike wonder revived, I was hanging on every word out of Spencer's mouth.

I knew the guy was probably a genius, but I had no idea how much of a genius he was until he was recounting the entire history of civilization like he'd been reading straight from an encyclopedia. He looked like a hilarious mix of proud and embarrassed when he finally admitted his IQ. Meanwhile, I had to admit that I not only had no fuckin' clue what my IQ was, I was certain it was significantly lower than his.

He didn't seem to mind.

In a way, I thought it was strange when he told me he wanted to bring me to a place like that. After all, I'd told him I wanted to learn more about him. I figured a museum would teach me about everything else, not him.

But seeing him in this environment told me more about him than I ever could have imagined. I learned about his avid love for the most trivial facts, the way his inflection changed when he got excited, and that despite reading probably hundreds of thousands of books, his hunger for knowledge was still very much alive and well.

Most of all, I learned that Spencer Reid was unlike any man I'd ever seen before.

It was a bad idea. Because when we finally made our way out of the final exhibit, I didn't want to leave. Not even close. If you'd told my mother I spent several hours in a museum and didn't want to leave, she'd never believe you.

"Hey, so..." I started, pausing outside the gift shop on our way out. "It's almost 5. Did you want to grab dinner before we head back? I have worked up quite the appetite listening to you for the past 4 hours."

"Has it really been that long?" he asked incredulously before glancing down at his watch wrapped over his shirt.

I tried very hard, and failed, to suppress a giggle at the habit.

"I'm honestly surprised you still have spit left in your mouth," I joked as I swayed closer to him, almost enough to touch him.

"Ha ha, very funny," he replied. A slight pout formed on his face. I almost enjoyed the swapped roles; it wasn't often that he was the one who looked so forlorn.

"Come on, I'm joking!" I laughed before slipping my arm around his and pulling him closer to me.

Spencer glanced down in surprise, staring at my chest that was now fully pressed against his arm. Although, the way he looked at me was nothing compared to the response he'd given after I showed up in a pleated skirt that better belonged on a Catholic schoolgirl.

But I mean, like I'd said, I used to go there on school trips. It was only fair.

"I love listening to you talk, Spencer. You know that."

The speed with which he looked away when I finished talking was enough to tell me that I had said the wrong thing. His goofy, playful demeanor vanished so quickly, I'd almost gotten whiplash. He didn't remove his arm, instead clearing his throat and pulling out a brochure from his pocket to look at nearby places to eat.

A bit reserved, he asked if I was interested in one of the closer casual restaurants, to which I agreed. At that point, I removed myself from his side and was only a little surprised to see the way his body immediately relaxed.

I wanted to believe he just didn't like to be touched, which I was certain was true, but he was behaving differently with me than he had before. We'd touched in public before, a lot more than that, and we'd known each other a lot less!

But of course, that was probably why. The closer we got, the farther away he felt.

The walk to the restaurant was slightly awkward, so after a moment I decided to break the silence.

"You said you grew up in Vegas, right?"

"Yeah, until I moved to go to school," he explained, looking around at the surroundings of the D.C. crowds winding down rather than turning his attention back to me.

At least I was finally learning more about him.

"Where did you go?"

"Caltech."

He was keeping his answers short, but I feel like he might still be a little embarrassed at my little jab at the museum. That was fine, I knew ways to make him talk. I clasped my hands behind me as I walked by his side, still tempted to touch him somehow, however ill advised.

"Was it hard being away from your family? That's a few hours away, isn't it?"

He laughed awkwardly, a sure sign that I'd forgotten that him and I come from different worlds.

"Well, I was barely 13, so... My mom was kind of legally obligated to follow me."

He was so cute, and he definitely wasn't aware of it.

"Right, sorry, forgot about the genius thing for a minute. Don't know how."

The smile he returned was genuine, which helped my guilt for bothering him yet again. But in my defense, it was easy to do when he was a literal genius and I was barely scraping by half the time.

As we arrived, we were seated in a booth near the back of the restaurant. I offered him the booth with a view of the door because I'd figured he would want it. He gave me a strange side glance at my assumption, like I was hiding something from him that would grant me the knowledge that it would be more comfortable for him to be able to see the door.

I didn't want to talk about how I knew that, though.

Instead, I asked, "Do you like it here? In Virginia?"

He nodded as he flipped open the menu, speaking almost scripted answers absentmindedly, "I do, but mostly because it's been so long that everyone I know is here."

I'd already been here before, so I didn't bother looking at the menu. Naturally, he'd only required a few seconds to read it. When he made eye contact again, I spoke through my thoughts.

"You said you're a profiler for the..."

"Behavioral Analysis Unit."

His tone was a mix of pride and nerves, which immediately made me nervous.

"I haven't looked it up yet because I'm scared about what I might find. What do you guys do, exactly?"

The server brought us drinks just in time to pause his answer, which he seemed to appreciate. I figured it was either a tough job to explain, or he didn't want to share that part of his life with me just yet (or, potentially, ever).

Spencer lowered his voice like he usually did when he talked about work.

"We profile the behavior of serial killers. Sometimes for research, but mostly to assist local police in catching them."

"Oh..." I started, stopping mid-sip of my drink. It was a lot to take in at once. "So... yeah, I'm glad I didn't google it."

He scrunched his mouth in that unsure way, like he wanted to explain to me how he really felt about his job. Something in the bags under his eyes told me he hasn't talked about this in a long time. At least, not like he should. But he didn't talk about it. He looked away, opting to say nothing at all.

"Doesn't it get to you?" I pushed, trying to offer him the platform to talk about the thing that no doubt consumes most of his life.

"Does what get to me?" His voice sounded so far away.

"Spencer, when I met you, you were whisked away at the crack of dawn to go talk about serial killers. On a weekend. The second time you showed up at my place after clearly not having slept, I'm guessing straight from work..."

His eyes narrowed as I spoke, like I was talking from a tightrope that I could plummet off any second. He seemed scared that I would speak something into existence he wasn't ready to face himself.

"You're surrounded by evil all the time. You're responsible for learning, recognizing, and manipulating evil. That can't be easy."

Spencer's eyes were glazed over in a way I couldn't describe. He seemed defensive, steeled, and absolutely terrified. He wouldn't look me in the eyes, opting instead to stare down at the menu in front of him.

He shrugged as he halfheartedly concluded, "I guess that's one way to look at it. We also get to see a lot of good."

"Yeah..." I nodded solemnly, recognizing the dismissive thoughts from my own experience.

He was downplaying the great likelihood of traumatic memories he carried, as if he could will away the damage. Like it would stop existing if he could convince himself it wasn't that bad.

I wondered what had happened to him on the job for him to already have forgotten that things didn't have to be the worst possible to matter. That he still deserved better. That hurt does not require permission.

I couldn't stop myself, needing to see how he reacted when I continued, "But which do you see more of?"

I never got my answer. The server once again saved him from a conversation that got away from him. The presence of a third, impartial person shifted the mood back to what it was in the museum. I wondered how much was an act, both back then and in that moment.

Deciding it best not to dwell on the thought, I tried to forget about the darkness brewing in those coffee colored eyes. Once our orders were in, he turned his attention to the cocktail menu still laying in the middle of the table with a smile.

"I'm almost surprised you didn't try to order alcohol," he half-joked.

I leaned forward on the table, bringing a hand up to my mouth and whispering, "I heard there might be an undercover fed here, so, never can be too safe."

The bubbly, childish laugh that followed renewed my faith in him. He had that kind of infectious laugh that made you forget that badness existed at all. Once our ruckus had died down, he looked at me with the softness that had drawn me to him in the first place.

"You're cute."

When the words registered in my mind, I couldn't believe I'd heard them. The way his expression changed shortly after the words left his mouth told me he hadn't meant to say them aloud. But their effect on me was not at all stifled by his momentary lapse in judgment.

I'd wondered if it was getting hotter in the building, or if it was just my nerves getting the best of me. But it wasn't bothering Spencer, who was about to down yet another cup of coffee in front of him. I cleared my throat, trying to not look like a schoolgirl whose crush had just checked 'yes' on a note asking if he liked me.

Pointing to the mug in front of him, I joked, "How do you sleep?"

"Honestly? I usually don't."

That was the goofy overly literal dork I wanted to see more of.

"I can think of one way to wear you out," I suggested, lifting my leg to press the top of my foot against his leg under the booth.

He raised his eyebrows, giving a simple glance down to acknowledge the contact. Then his eyes were back on me, staring deeply with a hunger that would not be satisfied by whatever dish they brought out to us.

"I can think of several."

Humming cheerfully, I continued to run my foot up and down his leg. My cheeks flushed with my growing desire that I'd managed to put off for several hours. I was honestly shocked that I'd spent the whole day with this man, and only then thought about sleeping with him.

"It's too bad we can't," I pouted. "My roommate is back in town. Not sure she'd appreciate all the noise."

That time as my foot drew up his leg, he shifted in his seat so that his legs moved closer to me, extending the contact for a few seconds longer.

"Not to mention, I don't think you'd like to deal with several 20-year-olds."

The way he behaved whenever I pointed out my age was endlessly entertaining. That time, though, he seemed significantly less bothered.

"One is already borderline for me," he teased back.

I gasped, clutching at my chest as I batted my eyelashes just dramatically enough to showcase my pride.

"You flatter me, Dr. Reid."

He almost choked on his coffee as he stifled a chuckle, putting it down as he shook his head.

"Only you would take that as a compliment."

Recognizing this repartee as the foreplay it had always accompanied, I leaned forward on my elbows towards him. He immediately mirrored the movement, putting our faces much closer to each other than they'd been all day.

"What can I say? I enjoy being a challenge."

"Yes, you do." He hadn't even thought about it, responding almost instantaneously, suggesting once more that he could actually read my mind.

"How are you so good at that?" I kept the question vague on purpose.

He didn't fall for it.

"I'm good at a lot of things. Which are you referring to?"

What a cocky bastard. A very handsome, ridiculously sexy, dork of a bastard.

But he wasn't the only one at the table that knew how to get someone hot and bothered.

"Your humility is my favorite part, Dr. Reid." I stuck my tongue out at the end of the sentiment, a cheeky grin that reflected on him just as quickly.

"Quoting me? That's bold."

Deciding it had been too long since I had touched him, I lifted my hand to press a single finger against his chest as I taunted, "You aren't the only person with a good memory."

He leaned back at this point, backing away from my finger and the heated exchange.

"I don't have a good memory. I have an eidetic memory."

He had been very proud of that fact earlier when I asked him why the hell he was able to list off every single word from a museum display we'd seen an hour earlier. I'd asked him if it was the same as a photographic memory, and he'd gone on a rant about the pejorative connotations of the term. I wasn't going to go down that rabbit hole again today.

Instead, I took the same hand that had touched him moments before, curling all but one finger into a fist.

"So you'll be able to remember this forever?" I cooed as I held up my middle finger.

"I'll just file that away with the most important memories, like birthdays and the works of Arthur Conan Doyle," he sighed in response, graciously admitting defeat.

I was not brave enough to tell him I had no idea who that was, but I was sure I'd learn one day. That one, I thought, was probably safe to google. While he filed away my crude gesture, I filed away yet another fun fact to surprise him with later.

"You are, by far, the most interesting person I've ever met," I implored, to which he immediately shot back, "I could say the same about you. And I regularly talk to serial killers."

Touché, Dr. Reid.

"I'm flattered," was the last word I got in edgewise before our food arrived.

The rest of our time in the restaurant went very similarly, with teasing comments that built the sexual tension that was already too big for this tiny room. Our legs never stopped touching throughout the entire meal. Maybe that was why, when it was finally time to leave, we both felt a strange mixture of excited and sad. Once we were no longer behind the booth, it was back to pretending like we weren't constantly trying not to pounce on the other.

The walk to the metro was equal parts long and tense. At one point I'd swayed closer to him than I intended, and our sides brushed up against one another. Unlike before in the museum, he hadn't moved away. I couldn't believe something so minuscule could made me so happy.

The metro was more crowded than I'd anticipated. The fact that the station is underground was usually enough to make me feel a little claustrophobic, but the number of people bustling around me felt especially overwhelming. I couldn't help but chastise myself for having worn a skirt, considering the stark number of perverted men in places like these.

Spencer's touch woke me from my reverie. His arm had wrapped around my lower back with such unassuming delicacy, I'd hardly registered it at first. He was looking down at me with concern covering his features as he asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, sorry, there's a lot of people here."

I had one hand holding my skirt down against my leg, the other crossed over my chest.

"Makes me nervous," I further explained.

"Can I help?"

Even though he was offering, I could tell the crowds bothered him just as much. Thankfully, his presence was enough for me.

"You already are."

There was something so calming about his presence that was hard to explain. It wasn't his ability to physically protect me, considering he didn't have his weapon with him most of the time I was with him. It wasn't his emotional availability (or lack thereof). It was more like he exuded some chemical that made me docile. It was hard to explain.

I just liked him, okay?

When our train pulled in it was relatively crowded, but we managed to grab two seats near the back of a car. I sighed in relief as I plopped down into the plastic chair, happy to finally be able to rest my legs.

With Spencer on the aisle seat and us on our way back to Franconia Springfield Station, I let myself relax. My head dropped down onto his shoulder without much thought, and my entire body slumped over with it.

"How am I supposed to stay awake for this when you're so comfy?" I mumbled, looking down at the hem of my pleated skirt as I fiddled with it.

"That certainly sounds like quite the predicament," he said in what I assume was jest.

He sat up, bumping my head off his shoulder for a moment. I interpreted it to be a subtle way of telling me not to do it, but once he had shrugged off his cardigan, he looked at me like he was confused I hadn't resumed the position.

Armed with a simper, I cuddled up even closer this time, wrapping my arms around his and resting my cheek against his shoulder. I wasn't sure why he had gotten so open to touch, but I wasn't going to complain.

He didn't say anything when he draped his cardigan over my lap, covering my knees peeking out from under my skirt. A nice gesture, I thought as my body instinctively gravitated towards him. It wasn't until I closed my eyes that the pieces started to come together.

I was on the metro, in a skirt, with Spencer Reid's hand slowly but surely inching up my thigh.

My eyes shot open, and I tensed my grip around his arm. It was the only thing I did to betray my otherwise composed and unassuming position.

His breath was hot on my ear as he leaned over to me and began to whisper, "Do you know the idea that people fall asleep after sex is less true for women than men? Many speculate it's because women are just neglected in bed, but that's not quite it."

I didn't dare respond, hardly trusting myself to breathe as his hand continued to move closer to me.

"Both sexes do release the same chemicals during orgasm. Oxytocin to stimulate smooth muscle contraction and initiate the need to bond, prolactin to relieve arousal and signal satiation, and the leftover gamma aminobutyric acid, dopamine, and serotonin..."

I couldn't understand how he'd managed to make the lecture sound sexy, but I was too lost in the sound of his voice to bother thinking about it then.

"Still, women are less likely to fall asleep. Sure, they typically exert less physical energy during sex, but what about those women like you with a penchant for going for a ride?"

A woozy, lovesick smile spread across my face at the reference to our first encounter.

"Those women might still stay awake for longer and may actually be more invigorated after reaching climax. And it's all thanks to their naturally lessened refractory period."

I nodded dumbly, gasping lightly once I felt his fingers make contact through the flimsy cotton of my underwear.

"Which might sound like a curse. But it's not. It means that those lucky women can reach multiple orgasms in succession. Some partners just aren't willing to put in that kind of effort," he continued, tracing a finger up and down my folds through the fabric.

"But I'm not one of them."

His words were strong, and I buried my face into his shoulder, trying not to alert the entire car what was happening underneath his cardigan.

"I would much rather watch you come undone. Again, and again, and again. I want to make sure that when I'm done with you, you can't keep your eyes open."

My breath was getting quicker, and I let out a small squeak against his shirt as he pressed down on the bundle of nerves at my center, drawing circles around it.

"That being said, if you need something to keep you awake, I do have a solution. But if you make a single noise, I will stop."

I had to bite down hard on my bottom lip to prevent any noise from slipping out. My legs were wavering between opening and closing as I tried to keep them apart. I could feel how damp I was getting. My hips were moving with a mind of their own, rocking toward his hand. It took all of my concentration not to give us away.

I choked on my breath as a sly finger snuck into the side of my underwear, allowing entrance to the others that followed.

"Shhh," he hushed, pressing a soft kiss on the top of my head. Underneath my skirt, though, he was much less chaste. Slipping two fingers into my heat, I could have sworn I heard him laugh from above me.

I didn't dare look at him, nervous that the moment I did, I would lose all control.

"I had no idea it would be so easy to get you to follow directions. Are you that worried you might get caught?"

He could feel my heartbeat against his arm. He must have been able to, because I was suffocating against his arm. My hands clenched around him like he was the only lifeline in an ocean of pleasure.

"Imagine what they would think if they knew what you let me do to you. What you beg me to do to you."

My legs were beginning to tremble around him as he stroked me from the inside. All I could feel was him. His hands, his breath, his words.

"Is that why you wore this skirt? A naughty little schoolgirl fantasizing about an older man touching you like this?"

He quickened the pace of thrusting into me, his words getting more insistent as the train was almost empty now, closing in on our stop.

"Is it everything you thought it would be? No. Can't be. You wish there was something else of mine in between your legs."

I couldn't explain how, but my climax snuck up on me. When it happened, it smashed into me like a wave crashing onto the shore. I gasped for breath against his arm, and he thankfully took mercy on me. Despite definitely making a noise, he continued his motions, palming at the crest of my folds to give me one last boost of stimulation.

I shook around him, my thighs tightening onto his arm as I finally found release. I could hear the announcement calling for our station, but it felt worlds away. Still, Spencer pulled his hand out from underneath our pile of clothes, wiping the evidence of our escapade against the inside of my skirt before also removing his arm from underneath my tight grip.

"Son of a bitch," I puffed, relaxing all my muscles at once as I tried to retain control over my pulse. I could barely think straight.

"You're welcome," he beamed, as if he hadn't just gone full dominant as he finger fucked me on the metro.

I didn't understand how the hell he expected me to get up and walk off like nothing happene, but somehow, I managed. I stood with wobbly legs and a flustered state of mind until he linked his arm with mine and led me off the car and into the station. I clung to the assistance, grateful that he was once again taking pity on me.

However, it felt like it wouldn't last long. Once we'd gotten to his car, he helped me in before climbing into the driver's seat. It was silent for a moment, like he wanted me to ask him a question that I wasn't willing to ask.

I didn't want the night to be over, but if he asked me if I was ready to go home, I'd have to say yes. After all, it wasn't proper form to invite myself to his apartment. Especially with how weird he got whenever I got close to him.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

The pity was gone.

I didn't think before I spoke, immediately responding as a joke, "Not unless it's yours."

The silence was back.

Oops.

I realized that I'd spoken out loud at the same time he delivered his response; I was going to stop him, but he was too quick.

"My place it is, then."

I couldn't help but smile, my cheeks burning as I asked quietly, like my volume might change his mind, "Really?"

"Sure, why not?"

I didn't have an answer. We didn't talk for a moment, enjoying the contented silence as I texted my roommate to tell her that I was going to be late home, if I came at all. I was hoping for the latter. Once that was sent off, I returned my gaze to the man paying almost full attention to the road.

"You know, I have to get you back for what you did back there."

He smirked, not breaking away from the road as he replied, "I did you a favor."

"A cruel favor," I whined, turning in my chair as I buckled my seat belt so I could get closer to him.

"No such thing," he corrected, although I think we both knew there very well could be such a thing.

"Uh-huh."

I watched him for a moment, trying to decide the best way to get back at him. I could always try the most relevant payback...

He didn't even notice my hand reaching out until it was already sliding up his thigh at a rapid pace.

"What are you doing?" he asked, as if it weren't already obvious.

"Getting you back," I snickered as I finally made it up his leg, palming the quickly forming erection under his pants.

"I'm driving!" His voice was so high pitched it was heartwarming. It was like our roles had switched, even just for a second.

"I'm not stopping you from driving!"

Obviously trying to compose himself, he grabbed my wrist and held it in the air and out of reach of him.

"Unless you want to crash this car, you'd better wait until we get back to my place."

It was a valid warning, but not one I wanted to hear.

"Spoil sport."

"At least you're alive!"

It was back to the sexual tension from before in the restaurant. I wanted to touch him, and I was guessing based on the visible tent in his pants, he wanted me. So, I got to thinking, and I figured that if I wasn't allowed to touch him, that only left one other person.

"... What are you doing?"

It was a valid question. He'd glanced over to see my hand traveling up my own skirt as I parted my legs just enough to maneuver beneath my underwear.

"Nothing," I hummed, now looking at him with half-lidded eyes as I rocked forward onto my hand.

"That's cruel." He sounded so devastated to see that I was doing what he couldn't, despite the fact he had his hand in this exact spot not that long ago.

My fingers dipped between my folds, collecting the remnants of the orgasm he had given me as I crooned, "What? You said I couldn't touch you while you're driving. I'm not touching you. You're welcome."

I opened my eyes just enough to see the way he tightened his grip on the steering wheel while trying not to look at me. Couldn't drive distracted. That was the entire reason why I was touching myself and not him.

"Unless, of course, you do consider this part of me as your property. In which case, I'm not going to stop, anyway," I snickered.

Rewarding myself with a soft moan, I tried to prolong the experience the best I could. It was hard when every couple of seconds he would look over at me. I hadn't thought that I would find his anger that attractive, but there I was, coming apart at the seams already based on nothing but a look.

He was thoroughly unamused, which only egged me on, honestly. I didn't care if I was being overdramatic as I touched myself, I wanted him to think about what he was missing. Which was why I didn't stop myself from moaning. Pants and gasps echoed throughout the car as I picked up my pace.

"I hope you're ready for the consequences of this very poorly thought out decision."

On the contrary, Spencer. I had very clearly thought it through. I was thinking it so clearly I could picture his hands where mine were, among other parts of him.

Thinking about how to dig an even deeper hole for myself, I found the perfect mechanism.

"Mmm, Professor Reid," I cried, recognizing that it would either infuriate him or bring him a great sense of pride. I was fine with either.

I closed my eyes so I could better envision the fantasy that was actually just a memory. For now. With my eyes closed, I couldn't tell much of what was going on outside of my touch, trying to ignore the man beside me as best as I could. I wanted him to suffer.

Spencer, however, had other plans. With both eyes still on the road, his hand had found its way to my legs, where it shot up to join mine. He removed my hand quickly and replaced it with his own.

There was no subtlety or warm up this time. Without any hesitation, he dipped a finger into my heat just to remove it and begin rubbing harsh circles over my clit. I couldn't stop the yell that resulted, and seconds later I came undone against him.

As soon as the spasming stopped, he removed his hand, not speaking a word or even looking at me. I'd realized at that point that he'd only finished me off because he hadn't wanted to grant me the satisfaction of doing it myself. He was asserting that yes, in some sense, he viewed this as a part of his property.

I was oddly okay with that.

"Is the silent treatment my punishment?" I asked with a pout after a few moments of nothing.

He laughed bitterly back, finally looking at me for a moment before vaguely replying, "No. Your punishment will be much more fun for me."

I had to admit the implication that the silent treatment wasn't fun for him was flattering, at least. I was glad to hear that he enjoyed talking to me as much as I enjoyed listening to him talk.

But for the moment, I was sort of exhausted. Not in the way that would make me fall asleep, but in the I-just-had-two-orgasms-let-me-recoup way. Even though we enjoyed talking, those moments were refreshing in their own way. The best kind of connections were the ones that could always be maintained, even in the quiet.

Despite it not being my punishment, Spencer remained fairly quiet the rest of the way home. I wondered if part of that was due to him brewing a plan for what would happen when we got there.

God, I hoped so.

As we pulled up to the nondescript building, I had to admit I was a bit disappointed to find Spencer didn't live in some whimsical fantasy like I'd always envisioned. The building looked like every other one. But, at the same time, I couldn't want to see the inside. If I had to bet, there would be a lot of books and a stark lack of computers.

Walking into Apt #23, I was only a little surprised by what I saw. The warm green tones of his walls were complimented by red and brown accents, and my theory was quickly proven correct.

"Whoa," I mumbled under my breath, "It's like a library."

"You must go to some pretty small libraries, then."

I rolled my eyes. Like his usual attempts at humility, Spencer failed horribly.

I spun around on my heels to face him, but at the same time as I heard the lock flip into place, I felt his hand around my arm. Spencer's movements were quick as he gripped tightly on my wrist and pulled me towards what I could only assume was his bedroom.

Weirdly, I was still trying to take in my surroundings rather than focus on fucking him. It made sense, I figured. I had already experienced two orgasms today, whereas he had none.

Oops. Guess I really was a spoiled brat.

But seriously—I was in his apartment! I wanted to snoop, dammit!

Spencer wasn't going to give me an opportunity, though. He'd even made a point of shutting the door to his room once we were inside. Something told me he would keep a close eye on me as long as he could. That was probably deserved, considering that within the first few hours of interacting with him, I had answered a call from his boss.

In my defense, it had been fucking hilarious.

He led me to stand in front of him, and out of instinct and habit, I moved forward to kiss him. I never made it to his lips, though. Spencer pushed me aside toward the bed, and I laughed as I leaned over it, making a point of flipping up the back of my skirt.

"I've been bad, Professor," I giggled, turning to glance back at him from the position I had happily assumed without being told.

He had that dark fire in his eyes that usually came before a storm.

He looked like he was ready to break me. I was ready to be broken.

"Are you going to teach me another biology lesson?"

When his hands touched me, they were as tender as ever. He caressed my hips where I had turned the skirt up, hooking his fingers around the waistband of the underwear and casually removing them.

"No, I'm afraid not."

He sounded delighted despite the words he spoke.

"This will be a very different kind of lesson."

Oh, I realized all at once.

"A lesson in discipline?" I inquired, swaying my hips underneath his hands and waiting for confirmation.

The loss of his hand on one side caused anticipation to build. I could hear the sound of blood rushing in my ears.

It was hard to tell which happened first. Instantaneously, his hand came down hard on the soft skin of my backside as he responded, "Yes."

The adrenaline that coursed through my veins in response shook any feelings of fatigue I might have sustained throughout the day. I welcomed his body heat against my back as he leaned forward against me, and used his weight to press me down into his bed.

"Unless you've changed your mind."

"No!" I shouted back much too forcefully before gripping onto the sheets in front of me. "I deserve to be punished, Professor Reid."

He withdrew from me and, within seconds, brought his hand down on me again, that time striking the other side. The snapping sound of the contact was enough to elicit a response. I clamped my legs together and gave a soft mewl. Appreciating my vocal response, the next two hits came in rapid succession. I could feel the warmth building in the skin, the breeze from the motions acted as a buffer for the delicious sting.

He roughly grabbed both cheeks in front of him, for no reason other than wanting to. I groaned at the sensation of the tender flesh being handled, which only led him to release one to smack it once more. He followed with the other, appreciating the balance required of this particular punishment. I wasn't going to stop him. I was happy to continue. But something told me that he was breaching the point of comfort in his own conscience.

He was always so worried he would break me. I couldn't say it wasn't endearing. That didn't stop him from giving each side one more forceful blow, however, which earned him a mangled cry from deep in my chest. His body was against mine again, one of his hands reaching around to tilt my head up, despite not being able to see him. I was beginning to think he just enjoyed manipulating my body at will. To see how far I would let him.

"I think you're starting to get it, (y/n)."

"Yes," I responded, not caring if it didn't make much sense in response.

Despite the fact he'd already finished me twice today, I somehow already wanted him again. Maybe it was the allure of finally being able to fuck him in his own bed, or maybe it was the desire to see him fall apart as a reminder that I'm not the only one desperate for the other's touch.

So quickly he returned to the gentle, barely there traces along my skin.

"Punishment looks good on you," he praised, and something about the way he said it filled me with pride.

"You look good on me, too, sir," I slurred as he continued to draw feathery markings on the abused skin. He chuckled, finally moving up along my back before I interrupted his thoughts and appreciation once more.

"Fuck me," I begged. I wanted him and didn't care how I got it. "Let me help you feel good."

The hands that had inflicted pain moments ago were now gently massaging my shoulders through my top. I sighed, relaxing further into his touch. So easily I had become complacent to his desire. I let him do whatever he wanted, trusting that he would never do anything to truly, honestly hurt me.

"Something tells me you're more interested in making yourself feel good," he asserted — quite correctly.

"Can't we have both?"

His silence told me he was considering my words. I knew that he didn't want to, since that would ruin the whole idea that this was a punishment in the first place. Then again, I didn't think he was fully committed to that idea anyway.

Dragging his hands once more down the plane of my back, he stopped to grip my hips and shift me backwards until I was pressed against him.

"You're lucky you look so fucking cute in that skirt," he growled.

I felt dizzy again already, drowning in the way his bed smelled like him.

"Mmm, I wore it just for you," I admitted, rubbing myself gently against his crotch now pressing into my bottom.

"Smart girl," he responded.

It felt like I was in a dream, to be there with him like that. For a long time, I'd thought I'd never see him again, let alone be laying on his bed.

I could hear him stripping behind me, and I peeked over my shoulder with a modest smile.

Time was not moving fast enough, I thought, but it was also moving too fast. Because as badly as I wanted him to ravish me, I was afraid what would happen when it was over.

I couldn't think about that in that moment, though.

Once he reached into his nightstand, I giggled with anticipation. He raised his eyebrows at me, unable to contain his own laughter.

"Oh, you're happy with yourself, huh?"

"A little bit, yeah."

When he returned to me, his hands were still gentle as they pushed my skirt back up where it had fallen. He revealed my body to himself, and I didn't have to be able to see it to know that my arousal spread down my inner thighs. I had, after all, already had two orgasms before now thanks to the man behind me.

"I'm also pretty happy with you," he whispered as he leaned over me.

With no warning, he fully entered me with one swift thrust. I whimpered at the feeling of him hitting against angered skin, mixed with the pleasure of being full once again. I clutched at the sheets and wished that they were him, wishing that I could somehow be even closer to him than I already was.

"We'll see if you still feel like smiling after I'm done with you."

It was the last thing he said before he began to ruthlessly pound into me. I struggled to scream as loudly as I wanted to, but I couldn't make any noise at all. My body seemed to have relented all control to him within seconds; I didn't put up a single battle. Although his grasp held me in place, I still attempted to cant my hips forward to allow him better access.

My chest and face were warm with friction from rubbing against the bed, and my knuckles were blanched from the force exerted to try and remain grounded. Each movement seemed so purposeful, much like the way he thrashed at my skin with his hand.

"Fuck me," were the first words I managed to string together.

With one forceful thrust, he held me down on him as all the moans I couldn't make previously came pouring out of me. I thought I might actually cry from how overstimulated the day was becoming. Seemingly reading my mind, Spencer pulled out of me entirely. I tried to reorient myself, but he stopped me. Using one hand to grab hold of my arm, he flipped me onto my back beneath him.

I hadn't even realized I was still wearing basically all of my clothes until he had to force my skirt back up again. Missing him between my legs, I began to crave him everywhere else, too. I struggled to pull my shirt over my head.

Spencer didn't stop me, just watching while he playfully rubbed his arousal at my entrance.

"Please, sir," I pleaded once I was finally able to lift my legs. I wrapped them around his hips and pulled him closer to me without letting him slip into me just yet.

"Just as impatient and needy as ever, (y/n)."

I chewed on my bottom lip, looking up at him with the puppy dog eyes that had always worked on him up to that point. It must have worked again, because he was sinking back into me before I knew it. My arms spread out across the bed, holding onto whatever I could reach as he set another brutal pace.

Our bodies melding together in a chaotic fusion of skin and fluids, I let myself get lost in the bliss of Spencer Reid laying claim to my body. I threw my head back, my eyes clamped shut as one of his hands came up to caress one of my breasts through my lacy bra.

"With undergarments like this, I have to wonder if you planned this all, young lady," he teased, no doubt referring to the matching underwear now discarded on the floor.

I opened my eyes to meet his, and for a second I was left breathless at the sight of him pumping into me. How I managed to say anything at all is a miracle.

"Never a plan, sir. But always a pleasure."

A flirtatious sparkle in his eyes, he slowed down as he pressed, "Did you wear them for someone else, then?"

The way I arched my back caused him to push even further into me, and I had to pause to moan before I continued.

"Are you jealous?"

His hips snapped forward, producing a simultaneously jolt of pain and pleasure. His voice was breathy as he tried to hold himself together while speaking, "Should I be?"

Our eye contact caused tension so powerful that I was certain it was palpable. A devilish grin and a bit of a snicker was the provocation he needed to drive into me harder once again. I didn't even try to suppress the noises he elicited from me, tightening my grip around him with my legs.

"Take me," I whispered under my breath, almost hoping that he wouldn't hear me.

I couldn't tell if he did, but his hand switched sides of my chest, and our faces grew closer together.

"I'm yours," I slurred. I truthfully hadn't thought about the words when I gifted them to him, but he clearly took note of them. That time, it was his moan that filled the air in the room, and I had never felt so excited by one of his responses. I chased after the feeling, locking eyes with him as both his hands grabbed my hips to begin the race to the finish.

"I'm yours, Spencer."

I didn't stop to wonder if I could play this off as part of the fantasy. I mean, it was part of my fantasy; the fantasy of being his, and him being mine.

He didn't object to my words then, either, and he had definitely heard me that time.

I smiled, barely noticing that he'd placed his fingers back on my heat, swiping frantically at my clit until I lost all composure underneath him. My hips rocked at no apparent rhythm, and distorted versions of his name broke through my mouth.

I hadn't even come down yet when he rammed into me with full force, bottoming out once again. I felt his cock twitch inside of me, followed by my muscles pulling everything out of him that they could.

The view of his satisfied face through my lust-filled daze was angelic. It appeared that he saw the same in me, but I couldn't be sure. Just as quickly as the moment had come, it had passed, his arms giving in to his weight as he collapsed onto my chest.

His hair tickled my collarbones, and I laughed at how incredibly out of shape he was. Especially for an FBI Agent. Even if he did go on the field often, I figured the resident dork didn't need to be totally ripped, anyway.

And, hey, he was strong enough to treat me like a ragdoll, so who was I to judge?

"Tired?" I asked, taking a shaky hand to his head, playing with the soft brown curls damp from sweat.

"You aren't?" he slurred, his words smothered against my skin.

"I am fucking exhausted."

That time, we both laughed. He was clearly pleased that, despite any perceived weakness, he was still able to thoroughly wear me out. When he moved to leave me, I dropped my legs. I was surprised I had managed to hold them until then, honestly.

He fixed his hair that had fallen in his eyes first, and I smiled at the peculiar priority. It was cute, though.

"Do you have to take me home?"

I tried not to let the disappointment bleed into my voice, but it did. He tried not to notice. He didn't answer as he cleaned himself up, and I sat up to look at him — once the world stopped spinning, anyway.

"No."

The butterflies spiraled out of control, spreading through every inch of my soul. I must have been beaming, because he looked so very nervous.

"Thanks."

His response came in the form of an unsure smile, followed by a genuine appreciation.

I briefly wondered if he realized just how transparent he was, but then decided I didn't want to think about it. I excused myself to clean up before bed, taking a long moment to rub my skin with aloe from under the cabinet, only to realize that I had basically nothing clean to wear. I rolled my eyes at the situation, wondering how many red flags it would set off for me to ask Spencer for some of his clothes.

I could just be naked. He seemed to like me that way.

I padded back into the room, expecting him to be waiting up for me. He wasn't. Spencer had passed out on the bed before he even had a chance to get under the covers. I stood at the door for a moment, trying to appreciate the value of this quiet moment while I still could.

Stripping off my clothes as quiet as possible, I was careful not to wake him. However, that also meant I couldn't climb under the covers, either.

It isn't exactly snooping if I'm looking for something innocent, right? That's what I had to tell myself, regardless. Because I was not going to freeze my ass off over a hookup's paranoia. Glancing at the dresser, I almost convinced myself it wouldn't be an invasion of privacy to open it. Luckily, I didn't have to. Directly next to it was a hamper of clean, folded laundry, with a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt on top. While disappointed that I had lost my excuse, I was grateful I had stripped myself of the choice.

He deserved better than me trying to pry into his life like that.

Slipping into his clothes, I stopped to hug myself in the soft fabric. With him asleep, I felt comfortable taking a moment to revel in the position he'd allowed me to exist in. I was in his apartment, in his clothes, and I would soon be back in his arms.

For now.

I chased the inevitable end out of my thoughts, slinking onto the bed and shimmying over to him until his hands found me in his unconscious state. I faced him, my hands pressing softly against his chest to feel his heart happily working under my touch.

His eyes fluttered open for a second, just long enough to see the wonder in my own. A smile crept along his cheeks, and he wrapped a lazy arm around my waist.

I wondered if he recognized his own clothes, or if he even realized this was real. Then again, the alternative was him assuming that it'd all been a dream... and it was a pleasant one, it seemed.

"I'm happy," he confirmed in a hushed tone.

My heart almost stopped, and I peeked up at him, inching up so I could better see his face. His breathing evened back out as I felt the way he relaxed, quickly retreating back to the comfortable embrace of sleep.

"About what?" I whispered back.

Our legs twined together, and a soft sigh left his lips. I waited with bated breath for his response, although I don't think I could have ever been prepared for what followed.

"I'm happy that you're mine."

... What?

—————————————————

| Part 5 |

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #smut

2K notes · View notes

brywrites · 4 years

Text

For A Living

A/N: Reid has worked hard to keep his job a secret from the Reader, who he’s been dating. But she’s a little more perceptive than he expected.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For once in his life, everything seems to be good. He is sitting in a coffee shop drinking a mocha full of sugar, talking about the previously unpublished Hemingway short story to a girl whose eyes light up with every word. She is just as excited about “A Room on the Garden Side” as he is, and he can’t help but smile to himself. Everything is perfect.

Until she asks him what his plans are for next week, and he responds that he’s not sure yet.

“Well, my old roommate, Rimsha, is coming into town. She wants to stay at my place, and she was hoping to meet you. If that’s okay with you,” she adds, looking a little embarrassed.

“No, of course, I – I would love to meet her,” Reid stammers, though meeting new people isn’t his favorite thing in the world. But it matters to her, so he’s willing to try. “I just, uh, I’m not sure what my week will look like.”

Y/N pauses, looking down at the muffin in front of her. She teeters on the edge of speaking, and he’s trying to figure out what she’s so afraid to say. Is there something he should know about Rimsha? Is she worried their meeting won’t go well? Despite his analysis of her behavior, nothing could have prepared him for what comes from her mouth next.

“When are you going to tell me what your real job is?”

Reid blanches. “Wh-what?”

She sighs. “We’ve been dating for three months. I know you’re not just a college professor, Spencer.”

“I – I am a college professor.” He crosses his arms under his chest, trying to keep calm.

“I know that’s what you told me when we met. And when we started dating, you were teaching full-time, but you only taught for a month. So what is it you do the rest of the time?” she asks. Oh no. No, he’s not ready to answer this question.

“I do research.” Reid hopes the slight telltale crack in his voice isn’t noticeable to her. If it is, she says nothing about it, only stares at him with focused eyes and a slightly quirked eyebrow.

“Your research requires you to leave suddenly and travel to different time zones?”

She’s more observant than he thought. “I told you before, I guest lecture at other universities and I… I go to, uh, conferences.”

“Where you’re so busy you can’t talk to me?” When they get a case, he always try to talk his way out of it if he has to cancel plans, but when he’s away he never calls her. It’s too risky. With her, he lets his guard down. It’s too likely he’d end up mentioning something that happened at work, so he sticks to a strict text-message only policy.

“Um – I, uh…” he can’t find the words and now he’s tapping his foot in patterns of three and he can feel the anxiety building up in his chest. What is he supposed to say? What is he supposed to do? Is he about to lose the woman who has been the light of his life since he met her five months ago?

But one gentle look from her calms his racing heart. Her eyes are soft and she gives him a reassuring smile. “Hey, it’s okay.” She slowly reaches out to place her hand over his, and he can feel his body relax. “I’m not mad at you. I know you, and I know that there’s a reason you haven’t told me, yet. But I want you to know that you can trust me. I can’t be there for you if you don’t let me in.”

When she has a rough day at work or when something comes up with her family, he’s always there to comfort her and listen to her. All she wants is to do the same for him.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he starts. “I just – there’s… it’s more complicated than that.” He can’t find the words to explain, but he knows that he has to. He really likes her. This beautiful girl who loves books as much as he does, and doesn’t mind his rambling. Who asked him about the book he was reading three weeks in a row at the coffee shop they both frequented before he worked up the nerve to ask her about her book; after which they ended up in a four hour long conversation, during which the barista brought them free refills of their lattes (“because it’s about damn time you two actually talked to each other,” she’d said).

He adores he kindness and her laugh and the way a hug from her makes the world feel right again. Her patience with his quiet cover-up has lasted this long, and he’d begun to think she hadn’t noticed. How had he fooled himself into believing that? She’s so smart, of course she knew.

At that very moment, his phone buzzes with a familiar ringtone. Reid digs into his bag and pulls out his cell, only to be greeted with a message from Garcia: ALL HANDS ON DECK MATEYS, WE HAVE ARR-SELVES A CASE. When he looks back at Y/N, she nods, and he wonders which one of them is the profiler.

“Research conference?” she asks, a little coy.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I have to go.” He quickly shoves his things into his satchel, and reaches over to squeeze her hand. “But I promise, when I get back, we’ll talk.”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon.” And she flashes him that smile he loves so much. What would she say if she knew where he was off to? That each call meant running into danger?

All through the case, that question comes back to him. Something could happen to him while he’s away, and she would be left to navigate a field of questions on her own. Wondering why he didn’t tell her what he did, and why it was so risky, and why he couldn’t trust her with that.

The truth is he would trust her with everything, anything. He’d give her his heart tomorrow if she asked for it, but he’s trying to keep hers safe.

Reid is gone for three days, and he doesn’t call her once. She only sends him one text – call me when you’re home.They catch the man killing women in a small Missouri town, and the case is closed without anyone on the team getting hurt. The whole plane ride home he’s on the edge of his seat, mind racing with all the things he wants to say to her. He goes home and paces his living room for an hour and a half before finally calling her, and asking if she’ll come over to talk.

“So, how was the conference, professor?” she asks, taking a seat on his couch.

He sighs. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. The last few days were hard and I didn’t want to say the wrong thing.”

“The only wrong thing you can say is nothing.” She bites her lip, and when she looks up at him he shivers under the intensity of her gaze. “Spencer, I love you.” It’s the first time she’s ever said it out loud and it takes his breath away to hear those words from her. “And I want to keep loving you, but I can’t do that if you can’t open up to me. Why do you keep trying to hide this from me?”

“I’m not trying to keep anything from you,” he says, sitting down beside her. “I was… I was trying to protect you. Because I love you, too.”

“What could be so bad that you can’t tell me? Where do you go all the time? What are you doing?”

Reid swallows hard. “Y/N, it’s not that I don’t think you can handle it. I know you’re strong. But when you came into my life, it was like this – this bright light. I see so much darkness, and I just don’t want you to have to deal with that. I don’t want what I’ve seen to ever make you worry more or smile less or dim that light you bring to every room you go into.”

She puts her hand on his. “And I don’t want to leave you alone in the dark.”

Her eyes are pleading with him, and he’s never been good at saying no to her. He can’t keep this up. He can’t hide this part of his life for her forever. Acknowledging it means acknowledging all the harm that comes with it – the loss of colleagues, the trauma, the drugs… everything. But she deserves to know.

He takes a deep breath. “I work for the FBI.”

Y/N narrows her eyes. “Spencer, I’m being serious.”

“So am I!”

“I’m supposed to believe that my bookworm boyfriend who abhors physical activity is a secret agent?”

Reid jumps up to grab his messenger back from its hook, fumbles briefly in the pockets, and returns to the sofa with a small black holding case in hand. He gives it to her and adds, “Technically, it’s supervisory special agent.”

He watches as she opens it up and stares at the badge and ID inside. Her mouth falls open and her eyes widen as she stares up at him and if he weren’t so nervous he’d find the expression on her face absolutely adorable. Y/N looks between him and the badge before asking, “What’s BAU?”

“It’s the Behavioral Analysis Unit. That’s the division my team works in. We use psychology to profile repeat offenders.” He winces at the words that sound straight out of his orientation manual.

Her eyebrows knit together. “Profiling? Like… Silence of the Lambs or something?”

“More or less,” he says. “My team is a specialized unit. When local law enforcement has something on their hands that they can’t handle, they call us in. It might be a terrorist threat, a child abduction, or a serial killer – though it’s usually the latter.”

He can see the pieces starting to come together for her.

“So that’s where you go when you leave.”

He nods. “We fly out to wherever we’re needed and consult. And if we’re lucky, we catch unsu- um, the suspect, before they can hurt anyone else.”

Y/N runs her fingers of the edges of his badge, staring at it as if it can make sense of all of this. “So when you say you’ve seen things…”

He figures it’s best to keep being honest. “Yeah. Bodies. Crime scenes. Death. The most depraved human beings on the planet. It’s an abyss. There are a lot of things that haunt me. And there are things I’ve done that I’m not proud of. And I’ll answer any question you want, I just need you to know that I wasn’t trying to hide this from you because I didn’t want you to know. I just didn’t want to weigh you down with it. I wanted to pretend, for just a little while, that I’m not the person who gets in the mind of monsters. Because when I’m with you, I can forget all of that. I feel better when I’m with you. And I guess I was afraid that if I told you what I did, that something bad would happen.”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“This job is dangerous. I know friends who have lost loved ones – either because the job is too much or because someone we’re trying to catch makes things personal. I thought I could protect you from all of that by hiding my job from you.”

“This is a lot to take in,” she says quietly.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Is the only thing you’ve lied to me about?”

“Yes. There are things I haven’t told you about yet that have happened because of this job, but I don’t want to keep any more secrets from you. I’ll tell you everything, I swear. But everything else is real. I’m still me. I do teach when I’m on sabbatical. I’ve read every book by Tolstoy in English and Russian. My mom does have schizophrenia. And I do love you.”

Y/N sets the badge down on the couch between them and puts her hand over his. On instinct, he twines their fingers together. She keeps him grounded, tethered in the midst of all the madness.

“So you’re a genius and a hero, huh?”

He chuckles. “To be honest, I don’t really care about being either of those things. All I want is to be the man who gets to love you.”

She brushes his hair back from his cheek, her touch so soft he could melt. “No more secrets?”

“I promise.”

“Good. I can handle the dark. I can be strong. But you’re the one who makes me smile. And I don’t want to stop loving you.”

He can’t help but grin. What he has with her is better than anything he had ever dreamed of, and he doesn’t know how he got so lucky, but he swears he’s not going to mess this up. The BAU is his job, his team, the way he makes a living. But with her, he has a chance to build a life. “I took next weekend off, by the way. So whenever Rimsha is here, I would love to meet her.”

The smile playing at the corner of her mouth is mischievous. “Oh don’t worry, there’s going to be plenty of time for that, Mr. FBI Man. But for now, I kind of want you all to myself.” She leans in to kiss him, and he knows – that for once in his life everything, everything is good.

#criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #spencer reid #fanfiction #brywrites

278 notes · View notes

xxrainstormxx · 4 years

Text

Save it for the Doctor. Spencer Reid x Reader.

(A/N: this is based off a writing prompt. "You're... beautiful." "And you're concussed") Word count; 2,475 Part 2 (edit: my pleas for requests for stories are not reaching people so I will beg here. If you want a oneshot I’ll write it. Prompt or no prompt.)

I had heard a lot about the recent murders. I even had seen a few almost survivors on my mom's operation table, yet somehow I was wrapped up in the middle of it. Smack in the middle. No normal citizen even knew the FBI was investigating the murders and yet I was being interrogated. The man who sat in front of me was just mean, he wore a serious look and his eyes never moved from the narrow eyed glare he gave anyone who walked by and especially gave me. I was happy to cooperate, but the minute I was under fire I was fed up and wanted a lawyer. I was no killer, I had no upper body strength to move a dead body and believe me, I would know how much a dead body weighs thanks to my mom training me. I was a tired college student trying to get my damn degree so I could move on with my fucking life. And I was not in the mood to be interrogated when I could be working on my thesis. The mean man, Agent Hotchner I believe was just staring. I guess waiting for me to break or some shit like that? I don't know. I wasn't talking first. I didn't care anymore and this resulted in a match of silently staring waiting for the other one to speak. This went on for what felt like an hour but was probably closer to at least three minutes, I just sighed, "I cave." I sighed muttering curses as I shifted in my seat. "Go on, ask your questions I have a thesis to write and I would like to go home to continue it," I reluctantly urged on. He leaned forward in triumph I think as he demanded answers from me. "Where were you the night of Synthia Robbin's disappearance (Y/N)?" he began dwelling on the poor girls name. It made me frown, she was a 13 year old girl, a child, and she was gone. Kidnapped and found dead. It made me sick to think of what could happen to her. "So that's what this is about?" I hissed disgusted with the accusation "I was at the library with Emmalin." the mention of my sister's name made him further darken. "Your sister, correct?" he inquired. I rolled my eyes, "Yuduh" I sounded sitting back. "All your time is accounted for?" he continued leaving me puzzled for a moment. "There were maybe ten minutes in between where she left to find a book." I murmured unsure if the truth was the right thing to say as he stood and pulled out a file and threw it on the table making me flinch. "What about the night of Chris Bennidict?" he asked "A s-sports game" I stuttered "A baseball game I think. Rockies vs Rangers." I said shaking a little as he threw down that files some of the pictures falling out of the boy, shot twice. "Eunice Quiet, Quiara Basson, Basen Unice, Lynch Gryse, and Philip Jence!" he got louder with every file he threw at me. "You were near by every single scene and you fit most of our profile" he concluded the pictures that fell out made me physically sick. Children, those poor babies. I sobbed and turned away gagging, he wasn't convinced it was real but I knew it was and up came the vomit that was caught in my throat.

I had no doubt I fit their profile but I worked part time at a daycare. Children were my life line, and it mad me sick to see them hurt. He answered a call and left the room leaving me there to cry over the pictures. A brunette woman walked in and sighed taking me out of the handcuffs attaching me to the bolted down table. "Come on sweetheart. We'll get someone to clean up that." she sighed very tired, I wanted to know why. They brought me out to the main area of the station and sat me down. They slowly cuffed me to the desk and I cried softly. I looked across the station to see Emmalin "Emmy!" I called but was ignored causing me to frown. So I shut up and listen to whatever raving was in my defense, "My baby sib? A murderer?" she asked "well... it isn't that hard to believe," she said making my jaw drop. "They've always been a little too obsessed with the idea of death." A lie, I had an emo phase and so did she, "Introverted" well partially true. "and well she creeps out her friends," she finished causing me to stand suddenly, "Liar!" I shouted "You fucking liar!" I cried ignoring the pain and stress on my wrist the hand cuff was causing. I was now a 45 degree angle due to the cuffs keeping me in place. She seemed genuinely shocked i was there. "Why are you trying to pin this on me. Your own sister!b You were with me everywhere we went and those bodies were found. Why aren't you being questioned too? Did you lie? Did you say I was the only one there?" I screamed as I was sat down. She hissed at me and most of the agents took notice. Agent Prentiss, the nice brunette sighed and walked to my now horrible sister and asked her to follow her into a different interrogation room. It felt like hours that I was sat there, and a curly haired man was sat in front of me just reading, or what I thought was faking, really bad faking. "Why are you even sitting here if you're just going to pretend to read?" I asked the "doctor". My mother was a doctor and I didn't believe this boy was any kind of doctor. I had gotten to know his name as Doctor Reid and I wasn't allowed to call him an agent so I had no other choice. He just looked at me thrown for a moment before shaking his head "I'm not pretending" He stated as he shifted "No one can read that fuckin fast ya damn liar" I muttered not necessarily hostile just a little vexed. "I can. Did you know that our unconscious minds can process sixteen bits of information per second? Our conscious minds, however, can process sixteen million?" I sat back unimpressed "You are... absolutely insane" I laughed "Insane, perhaps but I'm not being accused of murder." he stated, and my smile that i worked so hard to get disappeared "You think I did it too." I muttered, it was meant to come as a question but instead it came as a statement. He shook his head "Not fully, while you do supposedly fit the profile our profile, our unsub wouldn't inject themselves into the investigation. The one part that doesn't fit" he said sitting back and crossing his legs turning to the board filled with evidence, and all those pictures that made me sick sat right next to the happy photos of the children in their school uniforms smiling big. I tried to focus on those "Well maybe your profile is wrong, cause this is sick." I hissed "(Y/N), you're here most likely because you were in the wrong places at the wrong times. Kids being picked up and murdered minutes apart from each other, while you were out with your sister at those locations? It's not very probable."

I just sighed knowing he was probably right "There aren't many coincidences when it comes to murder" he stated "Out of uh... curiosity what is an unsub? No normal person knows that is." I muttered as I tried to avoid the board, the thought of being in those places, not helping those kids, not even having a clue what was happening made me sick. "Unknown Subject" Dr. Reid said mumbling "Why aren't you uh... looking at the board. I thought you'd be proud of your work." He said as if to egg me on. I rolled my eyes "Those pictures make me sick." I muttered "I work at a daycare, it's my job to protect kids not watch them get hurt. I don't wanna see dead fucking children!" I shouted realizing I probably sounded fucking crazy and definitely like a kill. I hung my head in shame. "I know... I know it isn't fair to blame myself for what happened to those kids, but being in the places of the crime, the same night it happened, it makes me feel like I could have and should have done something. Something other than just sit there and wonder." I whispered "Yeah I feel guilty now but, not of what you think" I whispered looking to the board once more focusing on the pictures of the children when they were alive. "Sweet innocent babies... Never done anything to anyone. Probably were crying for their mom." I whimpered at the thought "They didn't deserve any of what happened" I looked away once more thinking about the mothers. "Moms.... Their moms" he stood up as if he had a damn epiphany nearly knocking me backwards in the chair. "Morgan, it's not an attack on the children it's an attack on their mothers." He said starting to put of pictures of older women. "think about it. They all went to the same cafe every day. It wasn't the day care, so it can't be (Y/N). They wouldn't see much of the parents" he enthused writing things down that I could not decipher because his hand writing was absolute shit. "But wouldn't that just give them more reason? They think these women are bad mom's for working instead of taking care of the child, and wants to teach them a lesson?" making him shake his head "That's stupid, if they wanted to make them suffer they'd just kill the women themselves, it'd be much more efficient and wouldn't lead to them doing the one thing they would dread doing!" he said circling one name on the board. Emmalin. "That's also sexist. Women work, children can't go with. Why would I have a fucking problem with that" I shouted across the room. "Who fits the profile while also holding these sexist values." Reid stated more than asked pointing to Emma's name again. "Oh dear god." he sighed "But my sister isn't a murderer!" I cried. "She's connected to the murders... and she's made it clear she doesn't think women should work." Morgan stated and went to the interrogation room. "You are a life saver (Y/N)" Reid said kissing my cheek out of pure joy, and I slapped him as a natural instinct and turned red "Shit! I'm sorry! I'm not used to boys doing that if they aren't being creepy! But at the same time that was really fucking creepy" I yelped as he held his face and laughed "No it's fine. Got too excited to fix what felt like a huge mistake." he said, and when I say I turned red I mean red. This was the first time I'd seen him as a human. Not a super genius, not as an agent, not an asshole. Just a normal guy with pretty eyes, a good jaw line, soft hair, and the sweetest smile I had ever seen. The blush was apparently very clear on my (skin color) skin because he hummed and smiled "Did you know blushing is speculated to be caused by a sudden rush of adrenaline making our blood pump faster." I giggled a little "Is that why you're so flushed?" I asked as he blinked not understanding just how damn pink he was after that rant. "Guess so." he shrugged. the door opened and out came Emmalin and she grabbed a ceramic vase off a desk and slammed it down onto Reid's head and ran away quickly. He fell to the floor because it was a heavy fucking vase, and I freaked out as he hit his head on the desk on the way down.

"Shit!" I yelled as half of them chased my very obviously guilty sister and I sat in shock as two of his friends rushed over to help him. Morgan uncuffed me and I blinked "Spencer?" Agent Jareau asked worried and I sat down next to him sitting him up and grabbing a water bottle slashing it on his face "Do not fall asleep." I said firmly "You could very well have a concussion." I said as an ambulance arrived quickly, he was cearly not feeling good because of the way that he was acting. I was worried about how sick he looked. He threw up half way to the hospital so I was told. I went with because I didn't feel safe with my sister on the run and an Agent in the hospital. Well I guess he wasn't an agent he was a doctor. The doctor, not Spencer, came out and i stood with the other two very worried. "He'll be fine. He has a mild concussion." as i thought "but he's awake, and on some pain medication. I take it you all know the situation and his limitations in the field?" he asked and Morgon and Jareau nodded "You can go back to see him now" he said and stepped aside "come on" Jareau said quietly to me "oh. Agent, I don't think he'd want to see me." I said quietly. "I'm sure he would like to know you came. You won't make a very good profiler if you can't even tell that Reid enjoys your company. And call me JJ, it makes it easier," she said giggling and pulled me right back with her and Morgan. "Hey man" Morgan started "What happened?" he muttered groaning in pain. "You got hit with a vase, took a pretty sweet fall, and got a concussion" JJ hummed arms crossed as she leaned on the wall. "Shit." he muttered making me giggle. "Oh hey!" he said when he saw me. "I want water, and jello" he muttered making small lip smacking sounds. "Morgan and I will get it" JJ laughed leaving me in a very awkward situation. "So umm.." I began before being cut off. "You know.. You're beautiful" he said staring at me causing me to snort "And you're concussed." I laughed shaking my head "Well, a concussion based on the severity doesn't necessarily affect your judgement of a person especially if it's a first time thing. I thought you were beautiful long before I was concussed but you were a suspect. Suspects being beautiful, hard to comprehend sometimes." I laughed "You're a dumbass" I snorted "But I-" he blinked and i walked over pecking his lips. "How about a date sometime? I'll give you my number" I said quietly. "Yeah... okay..." he whispered. "A date."

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds oneshot #part two?

200 notes · View notes

coralstories · 4 years

Text

Teacher’s Pet, pt 2

Spencer Reid x fem!teacher!Reader

You, a high school teacher, recruit Spencer to help you with a gifted student who you think could probably be in college already.

A/N: Some people requested a part 2! Sorry it took so long. @idontevenknowmanidk @royal-sunflower

Word count: 1312

Spencer had to convince Hotch to let him leave early. He finished all his reports early and insisted he’d be on call. He figured Y/N would understand if he had to leave for work. She seemed like a kind, understanding person. True to his word, he got there fifteen minutes early. He went to the office and asked for Y/N Y/L/N’s room. He briefly wondered whether they would let him wander around the campus. His concerns were almost immediately relieved. “Oh, you’re that doctor Ms. Y/L/N was hoping to recruit!” the secretary exclaimed. “Yeah, sure, she’s in room 301. Would you like a map?” Spencer took one, thanked the secretary, and made his way to the nearest stairwell. He slipped into the back of the classroom, smiling at Y/N in greeting. Y/N smiled back, careful not to distract the students. “Now, what did you guys learn from Romeo and Juliet? What was the takeaway?” Y/N was saying. There was silence in the classroom. A few of the kids glanced at each other. “Come on, you guys know there’s no wrong answers,” Y/N said. One boy raised his hand. “Yes? Would you like to share?” Y/N prompted. “Uh, I think the takeaway is to just not marry someone you only met the day before.” The whole class laughed at that. “And definitely don’t keep it a secret.” “Especially if they’re from a rival family.” Spencer chuckled, his voice carrying over the students’. It drew the attention of the back row. “By the way, we have a special guest today,” Y/N said, extending a hand to the back. All the students turned to Spencer, causing him to blush. He stood straight and waved his hand. “Hi. I’m Dr. Spencer Reid,” he said. “I’m glad you could make it, Dr. Reid,” Y/N said, clapping her hands together. “Quick change of plans, guys. I know there’s only five minutes left until the bell, don't worry. Spencer, would you mind telling everyone what you do for a living?” “Oh, sure.” Though surprised, he was not necessarily unprepared. He’d done plenty of these types of presentations to students before. Y/N gestured to the space beside her, and Spencer walked the length of the classroom until he was next to her. “So, I know I said I’m a doctor, but I’m not a medical doctor,” Spencer started. “I have several PhDs, which earned me a spot on the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. What we do is catch criminals, like any other branch of law enforcement. Although, we are usually called in to help local law enforcement when a criminal is a bit out of their expertise. Usually that means serial killers or child abductors.” He went on until the bell rang. He raised his voice over the shuffle and told them he’d leave his card with Y/N. “Pedro, stay behind one minute please,” Y/N said.

Spencer watched as the boy in question froze halfway out of his seat. He grimaced at the boy next to him, who gave him a sympathetic smile and a shrug. Pedro slowly sat back down. Y/N waited until all the other students had filed out of the room, then went to sit in the seat in front of Pedro. “Pedro, remember how we talked about you participating more in class? And you said you were bored?” Y/N said quietly. Pedro nodded. “I told you I’d try to get someone who could help us look for different options for you, right? Advanced courses online, early GED, you know?” Pedro’s eyes flicked to Spencer. “I asked Dr. Reid if he would help you look at your options and get you through them. You’re a brilliant young man, and you deserve a stimulating curriculum. I’ve already talked to your aunt about him, she thinks it’s a good idea too.” Spencer stepped forward. “Hi Pedro,” he said. “Do you have any questions for me?” “Um, well, you said you’re an FBI agent?” Pedro asked hesitantly. “How did you get to be one?” Spencer, Y/N, and Pedro talked for about half an hour. After a few questions back and forth, Pedro seemed to relax. When Spencer told him about all the wonderful programs he was a part of, Pedro even started to be interested. Spencer smiled at Y/N, who looked at him proudly. Spencer was elated to discover that he could help Pedro be excited about learning again. By the end of their talk, Spencer couldn’t wait to start mentoring Pedro. He gave Pedro his card with his cell phone number on the back. Y/N promised that she would pass on Pedro and his aunt’s contact information to Spencer. Pedro left the classroom with more light in his eyes than when he had entered. Y/N turned to Spencer.

“Well,” she said. “I think you’ve made quite the impression on him.”

“He’s quite the kid. I’m glad you were able to recognize that he needed something more.”

“What do you mean? That’s my job.”

Spencer shook his head. “Not a lot of teachers would say that. They would see a kid slacking off and figure he must be stupid or lazy.”

Y/N frowned. “That’s unfortunate. That’s a very shallow way of thinking.”

Spencer shrugged. “In my job, we see a few kids like that every now and then. Usually we’re able to convince the parents to transfer them to more advanced classes or even an academy.”

“Do you think that’s what would be best for him right now? An academy?”

Spencer glanced at her and saw her worry. He dropped his gaze.

“Well…”

“I just want what’s best for him. If that means he has to leave my classroom, then so be it.”

Spencer smiled, pleased by her obvious care for the child.

“Yeah, a specialized academy might be the best bet right now. I could help him apply for scholarships,” Spencer said.

Y/N sighed. “That’s good.”

They were both quiet for a moment as Y/N gathered her things. She looked up at him once she was done.

“Ready to go?” she asked brightly.

No. “Sure.”

Spencer bit his lip. She smiled and gestured for him to follow her.

“So, do you usually play chess in the park in the mornings?” she asked him.

He was suddenly thankful she was a better conversationalist than him.

“Sometimes, when I have time. I used to play with one of my coworkers, but he moved on.”

“Did he transfer?”

“No, more like he retired.”

“Oh I see. That’s good. I keep telling my coworkers I’ll only retire once there aren't any more kids to teach,” Y/N said, laughing.

“It’s hard for us to retire, too.” He thought back to their conversation with Pedro. “I was being serious when I said earlier that I’ve been training for this my whole life. I can’t imagine doing anything else. Sure, it’s draining at times, that’s why my mentor retired. But I feel like I’m doing good work, you know?”

“So you understand me,” Y/N said, looking up at him with a smile. “I’m glad.”

He caught her eyes and just stared at her for a minute. Eventually she motioned with her head to the car next to them.

“This is me. Did you need a ride?” she asked.

“Oh, no thank you,” Spencer said. “I usually just take the subway.”

“Alright, be careful. And I expect you to call me!”

“Yes, we can talk about when and where to meet with Pedro.”

Y/N’s smile slipped. Or did Spencer imagine it?

“That too,” she said. “Have a good night, Dr. Reid.”

She was in the car and closed the door before he had a chance to correct her again. He watched her drive away before heading home.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader

92 notes · View notes

myheartrevealedocs · 4 years

Text

Untouchable- Ch 2: The Offer

Summary: A Spencer Reid x OC fanfic that retells select episodes, starting in season 1, from the point of view of Lydia Ambers, a forensic scientist.

Warnings: swearing, discussion about death and illegal activity (but like, at half the normal Criminal Minds level)

Ch 1 | Ch 3 | About Lydia

~ ~ ~

“You got it all sorted out?” Gideon asked Hotch as he walked into his office. It had been a month since their case in Santa Cruz and Gideon had been on Hotch’s ass about this since they got back.

“It’s… not a job…” Hotch started. “I talked to Strauss and she said that there was no proof that a forensic scientist would be of any benefit to the team. Police departments provide them and local forensic scientists have access to scenes sooner.”

“Police departments can also have media liaisons and tech analysts, but we bring in our own,” he argued. “I spoke to some of Lydia’s old professors and they said that she’s not only a good crime scene investigator, but her major was chemistry and she’s fit to get a job in DNA analysis or toxicology.”

“Gideon, what did I say about not getting involved? Strauss needs proof that she is an asset to the team before paying her a salary. So, I got her to agree to let Lydia work here as an intern under your supervision.”

“Done,” Gideon said. “By the end of the month, she’ll have proven worthy of a spot on this team.”

“No, there’s more,” Hotch told him, frustrated. “She only gets to work jobs that we clearly need her on and she gets no more than two cases every 50 days.”

“Fine, fine,” Gideon replied, which did nothing to ease Hotch’s worry. He, too, had been impressed by Lydia during the Jonathan Carrey case, but there were parameters on hiring people into the FBI and Gideon acted like those meant nothing.

He’d been the same way about Reid after he first spoke to him, but Reid was cut out to be a profiler from day one and they had an opening for him. Gideon wanted Hotch to simply create a brand new job title and salary for Lydia and he couldn’t do that.

“Should I call her and tell her to pack up her things and move to DC?”

Hotch blinked. “You haven’t already told her about the possibility of a job, have you?”

“No,” Gideon laughed. “I can’t promise her a job when I don't have the jurisdiction to hire anybody.”

That was a relief, but Hotch was still afraid Gideon had let on too much. He had just admitted to calling her professors to learn more about her abilities. So, he replied, “You can tell her that we have an internship position that she might be interested in and ask her about her ability to leave California. That is all.”

~ ~ ~

“Agent Hotchner. Agent Gideon,” Lydia greeted as she entered the BAU. It was crazy enough to be in Virginia, seeing as she’d never left California, but FBI headquarters?

She shuffled around nervously and adjusted her glasses numerous times despite the fact they were already as far up her nose as they could go.

“Lydia,” Gideon greeted, warmly. “How was your flight?”

“It was alright. Exciting. I’ve never been on an airplane before.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. No one should have to go through airport security for their first time alone,” Hotch said. “Why don’t we step into my office?”

He and Gideon led the way into the bullpen and around to his office. Lydia’s eyes darted around, seeing Morgan, Elle, and Reid at their desks, engrossed in their work. She wondered if any of them would even recognize her if she caught their eye. She was surprised enough when Gideon called.

“I assume you’ve been considering my offer?” Gideon asked, closing the door behind her.

“Considering, yes. But it would be… difficult, to say the least. I’d love to hear it from your mouths… the offer, that is.”

Hotch sat down at his desk and gestured for her to do the same.

“Agent Gideon and I would like to offer you an internship here at the BAU as a forensic science technician. When we took you on as a consultant in Santa Cruz, you proved to have inspiring potential. You would only be called out for occasional cases, once every month or so. Agent Gideon would be your supervisor.”

“And this would mean moving to DC?”

“Eventually, yes. We can’t exactly fly you out to every new scene from California. It would be easier to have you here, getting briefed with us, taking the jet, etcetera. You’ll also need to go through a training period here and likely will be asked to work in the office, even when you aren’t on a case. How big of a problem would that be? Do you have a lot of family there?”

“No, not family. I mean, it’s just me and my sister and she’s been doing just fine on her own while I’ve been at college, so we’ll manage the distance. The issue is I’m set to start a masters program next semester. I’m just… unsure how I feel about dropping out of school. I know this is a crazy opportunity, but it’s not a full-time job. And if I don’t do well and you guys decide not to keep me, I’m poor and stuck in DC.”

Gideon, who’d been hovering in the back of the room stepped forward. “If we fire you for some reason, I promise to personally pay for your flight back to California.” It was a joke, but in all seriousness, a flight wasn’t even half of it.

“You wouldn’t have to drop out,” Hotch added. “Many schools nearby would be happy to have you and the Bureau rarely has problems with schools refusing to work around our interns schedules. And even if that’s too difficult, this experience will likely open up many opportunities in the future. I’d be happy to write you a million letters of recommendation should you decide to find work elsewhere.”

“I, uh-”

“Hey Hotch?” A familiar voice called, knocking on the door.

He apologized to her momentarily, before saying, “Come in, Reid.”

The door swung open and the boy looked right over Lydia’s head to his boss. “JJ wanted me to tell you that she…”

He trailed off as he felt more pairs of eyes on him. He glanced at Gideon before finally landing on Lydia.

She decided to make the first move, seeing as he was stunned into silence. “Dr. Reid, how nice to see you again.” She stood up to greet him, a smile gracing her features.

“Lydia, I uh… Sorry, to interrupt I really had no- Oh! And it’s nice to see you, too,” he fumbled. “I’ll… I can talk to Hotch later. Sorry, again for interrupting.” And with that he shut the door and was gone.

“Sorry about that. I figured it might have been important, that’s why I invited him in. What were you going to say?”

Lydia froze, her mind drifting elsewhere. “Does the team know? That you are offering an internship into the team?”

Hotch shook his head. “We aren’t offering an internship into the team. We’re offering you an internship into the team. We were waiting to see if you agreed to it.”

“Well, I don’t want to force them to work with someone super under experienced. They aren’t paid to be teachers.”

“The only one who’s going to be teaching you anything is me,” Gideon reassured her. “You are more than capable of holding your own with them. I trust you.”

Lydia felt her throat close up. It was all set up. A job she couldn’t even dream of and here they were, offering it up on a silver platter. “So, this is all… serious. I move to DC and just… work for the FBI all of a sudden?”

“If that’s what you want, then yes. That’s our offer.”

Lydia looked Hotch over, as if trying to profile whether or not he was lying. And finally, she said, “I would like that. Thank you.”

~ ~ ~

“You’ll need to fill out some legal release forms, medical history forms, and I’ll get to work on setting you up for your training period and psychological assessment,” a charming girl named Penelope Garcia explained. Gideon had introduced her as the BAU’s technical analyst.

Her office was brightly decorated and she handed Lydia all the information she needed with a huge smile.

“I’m going to be asked to do a thorough background check on you, as well. But that information goes straight to Hotch and Gideon, no one else.”

Lydia chuckled slightly. “I don’t think I have any secrets, but thanks for the warning.”

“Of course!” she replied.

“No secrets?” Gideon asked. “If I remember correctly, you refused to explain anything about yourself that didn’t pertain to the case when I first met you.”

Lydia hesitated slightly. “Well, what do you want to know?”

“What were you trying to hide?” he countered. “If you’re such an open book, you can tell me.”

“I was just angry!” she argued. “It isn’t about hiding, it’s just that after my mom died, I really believed that I was explosive and so I avoid any topics that bring out my stronger emotions. And you were trying to push all my buttons. I was stressed!”

She wasn't sure if Gideon was just an attentive listener or if he was simply interested in her background, but his eyes longed for her to go on. “Explosive?”

“That’s how I got this limp.”

Normally, nothing anyone could say would prompt her to give away more information than necessary. She always tried to excuse it as ‘no one asked’ rather than blatantly avoiding certain topics, but it was pretty obvious to just about anyone she’d met that Lydia was not proud of her past. So whatever it was about Gideon that convinced her to add that comment was something pretty special.

“How?” It was Garcia this time.

The young girl laughed. “When I was 16, I was having some issues and one day I was trying to calm myself down… I often did this by physically getting my energy out so I was punching pillows and throwing things and I kicked something that was heavier than I expected and broke my foot.” She nodded, like she was remembering it fondly, but the other two could tell that it was a cover for her uncomfort. “And then, I was mad because I hadn’t solved my problem and I’d rendered myself useless, so I started walking on it before it was healed. I did dumb shit. I felt like I deserved the pain for being so uncontained and brash. And then the arch of my foot healed wrong and I had to live with a more… permanent reminder of my attitude.”

“Sixteen,” Gideon mumbled. “Is that when your father died?”

Garcia looked shocked that her superior would even say such a thing but Lydia was just intrigued, “What makes you say that?”

He shrugged. “You said that your only family is your sister. So, I figure both your parents are far out of the picture. You said your mom died when you were little, which triggered your outbursts. So, I figured that perhaps you lost your dad as well and if you were having major anger issues at 16, could be due to the loss of your second parent. Brings up old scars.”

She paused, a somewhat sad smirk gracing her face. “My dad’s not dead, but you’re pretty close. When I was 16, my father was sent to prison.”

Garcia and Gideon’s faces read with immediate regret. So, Lydia played it off quickly.

“Don’t stress about it. He’s not a murderer or anything and it’s not… important.”

She hesitated to explain what he did. She figured they were bound to find out soon enough and she really would rather not say it outloud, so she changed the subject.

“Hey Garcia? Do you think you could help me work on transferring schools? Agent Gideon suggested that I apply for online courses rather than continuing to learn on campus and I’m still not sure if I can reapply for everything so late. And I know your job isn’t navigating college websites or anything, but you are good at tech and I’d love some help.”

She brightened almost immediately. “Sure, sweetheart!”

46 notes · View notes

ablogofthecriminalmindsvariety · 4 years

Text

The BAU as High School Teachers

I got the idea of doing it after seeing This Lovely Post from the wonderful @arpiii. I thought it was a wonderful idea, and thought I’d take the idea and make it my own. Some of the ideas, I absolutely adored and didn’t want to change (like music teacher Reid, gold), but some of it I wanted to take in my own direction. Hope you enjoy!

The Teaching Positions:

“Mr. Hotch” - English, AP/Regular US History, Law Education

“Mr. Rossi” - Culinary Arts, Psychology, Sociology

“Ms. Emily” - Spanish, Gym, American Sign Language

“Morgan” - Gym, Weights

“JJ” - French, Journalism

“Garcia” - Intro To/AP/Advanced/Regular Computer Science

“Gideon” - School Counselor

“Dr. Reid/Doc” - Math, Science, Music Theory

“Principal Strauss” - Despised.

“Officer Elle” - Beloved School Security Guard

Extracurriculars:

Mock Trial/We the People - Run by Hotch

Chess Club - Run by Gideon

Drama Club - Co-run by Garcia and JJ

Academic Decathlon - Run by Reid

World Language/Culture Club - Co-run by Prentiss and JJ

Coding Club - Run by Garcia

Student Film Club - Run by Rossi

Poetry Club - Run by Morgan

Gay/Straight Alliance - Co-run by Reid and Hotch

Basketball - Coach is Morgan

About the Teachers:

“Mr. Hotch” - Quite the strict teacher, but not unreasonable. He has sort of a ‘firm but fair’ mentality going on. He wants his students to succeed in what they do, and will do what he can to help them if they’re struggling. If he knows that they’ve been trying and doing their work, and keep in contact with him about their issues, occasionally he’ll extend deadlines for those students. He holds office hours for two hours at a time three days a week for kids to come to him if they need help, or just want to talk about something, whatever they need, he’s got them. If they come forward with any issues, he does what he can to help out. Issues with parents? He’ll bring them in and give them a stern talking to. Flunking out of another class? He’ll find them a tutor. He’s a dedicated guy. He doesn’t really smile, ever, and no student has ever seen him miss a day of class, and has the absolute worst sense of humor ever. He tries to toss jokes and puns into his lessons sometimes. The students think it’s funny when he tries, but the jokes themselves are awful. The only time he ever really brightens up at all is when he’s talking to some certain other faculty members (one more than others, *cough, cough*), or about his son, which his whole class is pleasantly surprised by. He runs the Mock Trial team, as well as the We the People team when it’s in season. He advertises We the People very openly to his AP history class, and mentions it to his regular history class every once in a while. He also encourages his law students to go for the mock trial, which he is very passionate about. He’d wanted to be a lawyer for a while, but found that teaching was more his calling. He also runs the Gay/Straight Alliance with Reid. A lot of his students are surprised by this, because it does require being rather open about things, and it did not in the slightest seem like his sort of thing. This leads to the students pinning him and Reid as an ‘inspiration’ for being an open gay couple, despite both of them constantly denying that they are a couple. The students have a betting pool to determine when they’ll get together. He’s very passionate about this manner, and will fight to his last breath if there is an issue with a homophobic student to get them the punishment they deserve. He has a coffee cup of pens on his desk that has a little bi pride flag stuck in it. Reid comes to visit him from time to time in his class, and the kids all sit back and watch the show that is the pair of them interacting.

“Mr. Rossi” - He is the most sarcastic man in the whole entire school. He’s very chill, but that shouldn't be mistaken for him being soft. If a student disrespects him, or one of the other students, he considers it to be unacceptable behavior, and doesn’t take it lightly. He lets his students joke, but there’s a line that should not be crossed. After the first week or two, the students all come to understand that. He teases all of his students, but they all know that it’s all out of love. He likes to go and visit Hotch’s class, to go and make fun of him. The students get a huge kick out of it, and think that it’s absolutely hilarious. They sneak photos and videos, and there’s an entire instagram account dedicated to their shenanigans. At the end of every semester, he makes a celebratory dessert for his classes to celebrate making it through another 90 days of hell. He leaves a cupcake on the desk of each of his coworkers with some sort of little decoration reflecting their personalities with a little note that has something to the effect of ‘don’t die over the summer. Have a good break’ written on it. He runs the student film club, and they produce a movie that is shown at the end of the school year. All the students love either making the movie, or watching it when it’s finished. It’s always a big occasion.

“Ms. Emily” - Pretty laid back as a gym teacher. There’s a sort of competitive streak with Morgan. It’s not uncommon for part of class to be taken up by them competing against each other for some reason or another. The kids think it’s funny, and don’t stop them. It’s a good way to get out of class, after all. She’s very encouraging towards her students, and even those who aren’t the most athletic feel good coming out of her class. She’s also a Spanish teacher, and a very dedicated one at that. She makes the class interesting, and is sure to try to work the French culture in her lessons. Once a semester, she does a food day. She makes Rossi teach her how to make some kind of Spanish dish, and encourages her students to try their hand at it as well. She and JJ visit each other’s classes from time to time and there’s a healthy debate over if French or Spanish is better going on between the two of them. The students join in, and there’s a scoreboard kept for when one of them wins the argument against the other. Some of her students can’t help but notice on the occasion that she lets JJ win. None of them say anything about it, but there’s a betting pool for if they’ll get together this year or not. She also runs the World Language/Culture Club with JJ. They host a festival at the end of both semesters, and a lot of students, in and out of the club join in. They advertise a spirit week beforehand as well, and she and JJ both go very over the top for it to get kids excited.

“Morgan” - Is the funny, charismatic gym/weight room teacher that all of the girls swoon over. He’s firm when he needs to be, but when he doesn’t, he tries to make his class as fun as can be. He’s aware that a required high school gym class can be boring and unpleasant, so he tries to steer things in the opposite direction. He doesn’t want his students to be miserable, after all. He often goes and pays visits to Reid and Garcia. With Reid, there’s the playful innuendoes and teasing. He often gets kicked out of the classroom by Reid, sometimes he gets things thrown at him, or threatened. He just laughs it all off. Reid doesn’t really mind the banter, actually, it livens up his day a little bit, and Morgan knows that, so he just keeps on coming back. Garcia’s students always enjoy when he comes by the classroom. Their back and forth flirting always gives them a good giggle. All of the students love him. He also runs the poetry club, and holds a slam poetry event once a month. A lot of people think that it’s not very him, but he does it so the students have an open platform to express themselves on. He’s also the coach for the boys and girls basketball team. He doesn’t turn it into a competitive environment in a bad way, a little bit of good competition, but not to make the kids try to push each other down to get to the top. They’re not a great team, but that’s not necessarily what the team is about, so the kids don’t really care.

“JJ” - A total sweetheart, tries her darndest to make sure her students are okay, doing well, honestly, she can be a complete mom to them all. And they all love her for it. She’s a very dedicated French teacher, celebrates the typical holidays, and they have food days once a semester, just like the Spanish classes do. And of course, they compete to know who has the better food. She goes to visit Emily’s classes, and she comes to visit hers as well, and they have a great, mildly flirtatious, back and forth banter going on. She subs in for Garcia and Reid when they need her too. She’s not great with the computer science class, but the kids love her nonetheless. She’s not bad with the music composition kids, though, and is a bit better subbing for that class. She’s not great with the math and science classes either, but the kids still love her. She’s a sweetheart and has only had a handful of students who don’t like her. She runs the World Language/Culture Club with Prentiss, and just like her co-chair, goes entirely all out on the spirit days and encourages all of her students to join, a lot of them do. She also helps run the drama club with Garcia, and the pair of them are a force to be reckoned with. Spencer steps in to help with the music for the spring musical, and as a trio? Unstoppable.

“Garcia” - Also a total sweetheart. She loves her students and wants nothing but to see them succeed and to achieve their dreams. She’s the teacher that grades papers with little stickers and smiley faces when they get good grades, and “study harder”/”you can do it!” notes when they get less than good grades. Morgan comes to pay visits to her classroom, and both her and her students love when he does. It makes the class more interesting, and it’s always fun to watch them both interact with each other. JJ stops by to see her sometimes too, and she visits her class as well. The students love her, and think that she is a total sweetheart, just like their teacher. Reid also stops by her classroom sometimes, andthe students get to see Penelope be a mother hen to him, making sure he ate breakfast, and forcibly inviting him to come eat lunch in her room, and tell him that coffee is not, in fact, a meal. They gossip in the corner about what’s going on, and what new there is to talk about. She runs the club with JJ, and they both love their drama club geeks. They put on wonderful shows that a good portion of the student body loved, and it made them all happy. Reid plays the piano for musical rehearsals, and they work very well together as a team.

“Gideon” - He is a beloved member of the faculty. Seems to always know just what to say in just about any situation. He knows the name of just about every student, and everyone comes to him for life advice, students and teachers alike. He stays after school for an hour and a half every day, just in case there are students that want to come see him after the school day is over, and his office is open 25 minutes before school actually starts. He tries to be as available as possible, and makes it apparent that students can contact him at any time, and he will try to respond in as timely of a manner as possible. He’s very easy to talk to, which means a lot of the students come to see him just talk things out sometimes, or just to talk at him without him saying anything in return. A lot of his coworkers come to talk to him as well. Reid comes to talk to him every Friday at three fifteen on the dot, to talk about his week, or talk out some of his troubles with him. Morgan comes to see him every other Tuesday. Hotch comes on an occasion. The others go if they feel like it, or not if they don’t. If he notices that there is a more prevalent issue in the school that kids are coming to him for, he’ll make a group therapy session for the students to talk it out. They’re held during lunch hours. Some of them are recurring, some aren’t. He keeps fliers for all of the clubs pinned to a cork board in his office, and recommends certain clubs to students that he thinks would suit him. He runs the chess club, and holds meetings every week. Though Reid isn’t technically a sponsor of the club, he came to almost every meeting. He and Gideon play against each other, and the kids like to watch them and root for a certain side. They create teams, and have a tournament every year. Though chess isn’t normally super popular, the whole school gets pretty invested in the tournament and they root for sides. It’s a big event for everyone. It’s the highlight of his year.

“Dr. Reid/Doc” - Reid is a very open nerd. His room is decorated accordingly, and his students love the way that his personality shines through in the way he decorates his classroom. He has a little column sectioned off on his whiteboard that includes a “fact of the day”, a “quote of the week” and a “book of the month”. A good chunk of the decor in his room is from students from over the years. When a student gives him a gift, it’s hard for him to get rid of it. They’re scattered throughout both his classroom and the inside of his apartment. He’s very, very passionate about his teachings, and he goes on little tangents sometimes when he’s teaching if something reminds him of the topic of his ramblings. His students try to teach him about pop culture, and it’s… it’s a work in progress. It’s part of the way there. He plays music while students work that’s supposed to be helpful when studying, and to take the edge off the silence. Every Friday during music composition, he lets the students have their own sort of jam session. Sometimes, it works. Other times… not so much. Every year before winter break, they go around singing carols. He tries to find a variety, though the majority of them are just winter themed. He wears an atrocious tie and a Santa hat, and tries to make the last day of school before winter break fun instead of stressful. As tradition, when he gets to Hotch’s room, he gives Hotch his Santa hat, and it’s one of the rare occasions in which there is a smile on his face. His students even catch him humming afterwards. He goes to visit Garcia sometimes, and has become entirely accustomed to her being a mother hen to him. It’s a daily thing now, really. They spend a little time and have chit chat about the talk of the town. Reid isn’t much of a gossip, but he’s content to lend an ear to Penelope as long as she wants to talk, because she does the same for him when he goes on rambles. Morgan also comes to visit sometimes, which is just him teasing Reid, and Reid either threatening to throw something at him, and the students eat it up. They take videos and there’s also an instagram account dedicated to the absolute tomfoolery that happens when they’re together. He goes to visit Hotch sometimes, and acts as a ‘special guest speaker’. He always has something to add, and the kids find it to be a refreshing break from Hotch’s very… traditional style of teaching. He runs the Academic Decathlon team, which only proves that he is an even bigger nerd. It’s a culmination of academics and a wide range of random knowledge. The perfect club for him. He sees at least a bit of himself in each of the kids on the team. The club meets once a week, and he spends quite a bit of time with them. They are like his own children. When they’re at a competition, he is pretty much their honorary dad. A lot of the parents can’t make it out to them because they’re so far. The first time, he made the mistake of going by himself. He will never do that again. Now, he rotates with which of the other teachers he takes with him, and they’re all happy to come. It’s a joy to see him so happy and proud of the kids. He also runs the gay straight alliance with Hotch. They’re polar opposites, but the pair of them work well together in the club, despite most people thinking that they wouldn’t. Both of them wish they had had something like that in their own high school, and want to provide it for the kids. They’re both open and honest in the club, sharing their own personal stories to help, and bond with each other as well over the course of the club. In fact, they become very, very close. Reid isn’t a part of the chess club technically, but everyone knows that he is at heart. He goes to almost every single meeting, and he loves teaching the kids on how to play, and he doesn’t even always mind when Gideon beats him. He also plays the piano for theater rehearsals. They couldn’t find anyone that was willing to make the rehearsal commitment, and Penelope and JJ begged him for weeks. They even got everyone else to get on his case about it, and he finally gave in and said he would. Now, he’s entirely glad and he couldn’t imagine it going any other way.

“Principal Strauss” - Despised. Nobody likes her at all. Not the students, not any of the faculty, nobody likes her at all. She makes her rounds of the hall every day, once in the morning and once after lunch to try and nip any ‘rulebreakers’ in the bud. She’s very strict. Way too strict, and everyone hates her. Once a semester, she gives teacher reviews. She sits in the back of the classroom for the entire period with her clipboard, jotting things down. She gives the students a spiel about responsibility and what the people of her school are really made of. Super boring, everyone hates them. She seems to have a particular vendetta against Reid. Nobody really knows why that is. During his reviews, she gives him sharp looks when he makes little mistakes, like dropping a pencil, stumbling over a sentence, misspelling a word. She doesn’t mark him down for it, but she writes a freaking paragraph in the ‘notes’ section. She thinks that Garcia is too frivolous with her games and little candy rewards. She thinks JJ moves too slowly because she makes sure the students actually understand the material. She thinks Morgan and Emily’s games are stupid and waste valuable class time. She doesn’t have a whole lot to say about Hotch, but she still doesn’t like him. She doesn’t like the way Rossi rules over the classroom. She just doesn’t like anything.

“Officer Elle” - School security. Most of the kids like her. She makes sure things run smoothly in the halls, breaking up fights, getting kids to class when they try to skip. She puts kids in their place who deserve it, but is pretty chill with the other kids. She knows just about everything that goes on in the halls, and makes the teacher aware of anything that she thinks. Every two weeks, she holds unofficial self defense seminars after school is over for different situations. She’s pretty well liked by students and faculty alike.

#spencer reid #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch #aaron hotch hotchner #derek morgan #penelope garcia #jennifer jareau #jennifer jj jareau #jason gideon #criminal minds #erin strauss #elle #heid #rotch #hotch/reid #reid/hotch #teacher au

70 notes · View notes

thorne93 · 4 years

Text

Inside the Criminal Mind (Part 31)

Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 3515

Warnings: (throughout the fic –>) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)

Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy, @carryonmyswansong, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo… Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.

Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re back kinda late,” Spencer noted as he read a book, sitting in the hotel chair next to the small desk they provided.

“Yeah, uh, Dexter got stabbed at a bowling alley,” you explained.

“Is he alright?” he asked, closing his book and looking at you, trying to find signs of distress.

You mindlessly tossed your purse and keys onto the table. “Yeah, no he’s fine. Sorry, should’ve led with that. Uh, but he was stabbed by his mother’s murderer. Apparently, a few weeks ago, on the horrible advice of his NA sponsor, he went to find him in Naples and confront him. I guess things got heated, they had a fight, and somehow he found out who Dexter was and followed him. He came up behind Dexter. I had to warn him, and help fight him off. He got in his truck and got away though.”

“Sounds like an intense night. Are you okay?”

You nodded as Spencer stood up to come rub your arms and check on you.

“I’m fine, yeah.”

“Is everything alright? You seem a bit distant.”

“Well, I have something I want to ask you and I’m worried how you’ll take it.”

“No secrets, remember? Just ask me. I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he assured with a sweet smile. A smile you’d nearly forgotten about. You hadn’t seen it in so long.

You took a deep breath, your eyes casting to the ugly hotel carpeting. “Okay, Dexter and I think it would be a good idea if you came along with us to kill his mother’s murderer.” You let out the breath you’d been holding.

Spencer’s hands let go of your arms. Your eyes flashed up to see what his facial reaction was. It was morphed into a deep frown.

Okay, yeah, you knew that was coming.

“What?” he asked, clearly put off. “Y/N, that’s the most insane idea i’ve ever heard. I don’t want to be any more a part of this than I am, than I have to be. You want to drag me along to watch this? And since when are you going back to killing again?”

“I’m not. I just want to be there to help Dexter. It’s mainly for moral support, nothing else.”

“Funny choice of words,” he said balefully as he began walking around the room, his hands going to his hair, disheveling it even further.

“Don’t start right now. Look, I wasn’t thrilled either, but Dexter made a point. We think maybe you have this horrible imagery built up in your head about what we do, what he does. Some kind of villainous nightmare. Subjectively, yes, he does kill and he kills gruesomely. But objectively, this time we thought you could have some perspective. You nearly killed Cat because she had your mother hostage. This man brutally murdered his mother in front of him and his brother as little kids. Tell me you can’t find some iota of sympathy in you. I’m not saying you’ll enjoy this or want to do it, but maybe if you just watched us, watched his process, you’d see he wasn't some unhinged unsub.” You let out a breath, starting to feel frustrated. You didn’t know why you had to spell this out for him and it was getting old. Either he understood, or he didn’t.

He sighed, clenching his fist as he turned his head to the side, not looking at you. “Alright, you’re right. I said I’d support you in this, and I haven’t given you the full chance to show me what you two have done. I just assumed the worst, and because I love you, I forgave your actions. But you’re right, if I’m going to keep helping you two, Ineed to know exactly what it is you two do.”

“Really? You’ll do this?”

“I’m not excited about it, but if I’m going to fully understand where your mind was at and what you two did together, I need to see it. I think it will be beneficial either way. It might bring us closer together, it might help me see it from your view.”

You nodded. “Good. I think it will help. He wants to do it in the morning because it’ll take all day to get to him in Naples, abduct him, and kill, and dispose of him.”

“Wow, that’s soon. What about work? All 3 of us can’t just disappear for a day.”

You bit your lip. “Shit, I forgot. Well, we just need to wait for a break in the case that could get us all some time off. As soon as things slow down one day, and they give us a break, we’ll go.”

He nodded in response and the next day, you told Dex your tentative schedule. He agreed that all three of you needed to be present, and in order to not raise further suspicion, you’d have to wait on Rossi to deem you all had worked too much, and for there to be a point for your team to just wait.

Doakes was eventually brought in but he barely stayed two minutes before he rushed out. You frowned, wondering why he was so upset, but kept back to your case work.

---------------

Much to your surprise, the BAU team started to look into officers past, but thankfully not into Dexter. In fact, they set their sights on Doakes, so all effort went into locating him. That was mainly on Garcia and Luke. Once Rossi and Matthews had declared him suspect number one, known only to your team, not the Miami PD, the case became hands off. It was a waiting game to see where Daokes would show up. All the profiling in the world couldn’t help with seeing where he might be going, but Rossi declared that the team should take a break while you all wait for some kind of news about his whereabouts. This was it, it was the chance you needed. Albeit noon, it provided enough time to get to Naples, stalk him, and do the rest.

You and Spencer went to Dexter’s lab immediately and told him you needed to go. The three of you drove to his apartment where it was like deja vu.

“Okay, so here’s how I operate,” Dexter explained, pulling out his trunk and duffel bags. “I’ve got all my kill tools in here, including the sedative, plastic wrap, and duct tape. Tonight, all we need is duct tape, plastic, scalpel, slides, dropper, and I’ll need to stop to pick up a chainsaw.”

You glanced to Spencer to see how he was holding up. He had a bit of a sick look on his face.

“Is the chainsaw really necessary?” he asked.

“I typically try to use whatever my victims do. Unless it’s poison or suffocation. In this case, I think it’s highly fitting.”

“Y/N’s said that you usually kill them quickly, so they don’t feel pain. She said you do this with a large knife, like a hunting knife. Are we not using one tonight?”

“Normally, yes, I stab them in the heart so it lowers the amount of spray and they have a rather quick death, but tonight, Jiminez deserves to feel everything.”

“So this is the most personal kill you’ll do?”

“Probably,” he responded with a bit of a shrug. “Alright. I hope you don’t love those clothes because there will be blood on them. I need to pack my apron, mask, and other protective gear. Y/N, you want your clothes?”

“You let him keep your clothes?” Spencer asked, an undercurrent of hurt in his tone.

“We thought it would be safer. He could wash them with his, and you’d never see them…” you quietly responded, feeling as if you were on trial.

With that, you told Dexter you wanted your clothes. You quickly changed into your old kill outfit, feeling an odd sensation being in them with Spencer around. Dexter offered Spencer some old clothes but he declined, rudely.

Then the two of you set off in Dexter’s van. He stopped and picked up the chainsaw. Spencer said nothing to you while you two waited in the car. You were trying to gauge his thoughts and feelings, but he was giving almost nothing to go on. It made you feel anxious. You were somewhat terrified he’d leave this experience hating you, fearing you, seeing you as nothing more than a sick unsub. It could backfire and instead of bringing you closer together, it put you further apart.

Dexter drove all the way to Naples, explaining how he was going to stalk Jimenez. Spencer didn’t have many questions, seeing as it was his job to know how unsubs thought, worked, calculated. He didn’t compliment or condescend him.

Still, you were on edge about his reaction to all of this.

Dexter drove up to the bar where Jiminez worked, and you all followed him, watching, waiting. You were sure Dexter was feeling the same thing you were - rush of adrenaline, all your senses sharpened, the ever vigilant eyes.

Eventually, the stalking led you three to a run down cabin in the Everglades. It was extremely remote. After sitting with the engine killed for a long time and being sure Jiminez wouldn’t come out, Dexter turned to you two.

“You remember this part, right?’

You nodded, in student mode once more. “Of course. We’re going to lure him out and sedate him.”

“Wrong. You’re going to,” Dexter told you firmly. “Get in my bag, get the sedative.”

Quickly, deftly, you did as you were told. You got the syringe out, opened the door quietly, and slipped out. You pulled the cap off and tossed it back in the car. Just as you were about to walk by Dexter’s driver window, he stopped you.

“Wait, come here,” he quietly ordered. You walked back over and Dexter put his hand on yours.

Red flags went off in Spencer’s mind. The simple touch seemed to make all those old feelings resurface. He always knew there was something further than just a friendship between you two.

“Hold it like this, remember?” he instructed, wrapping your fingers in a particular way. “Keep the needle out, away from you. Go check, make sure he’s alone, create something to lure him out, and then attack from behind.”

The small correction suddenly set Spencer at ease. Dexter was, in fact, just teaching you something. There was nothing remotely romantic about it at all. Some of the nerves he had built up, melted way.

“I know,” you reminded evenly, confidence in your tone, but not arrogance. You knew Dexter had done this dozens of times. But he also needed to remember he trained you extensively.

You walked quickly and low to the ground as you went to a window and peeked in. You saw Jiminez and no one else. After a second, you snuck back over to the truck and turned on the radio, before going to hide against the wall again.

Your heart was racing, your hand was shaking slightly until you took a deep breath.

Jiminez came out, you ran up behind him, injected the serum, and he passed out cold. You looked back at the van and held a thumbs up. Dexter jumped out of the van and Spencer following.

Spencer’s instructions were clear: don’t get in the way.

You and Dexter had a system now and half the reason for this trip was to show him how you two worked together. You two grabbed all of the supplies from the back hatch. Spencer followed you and Dexter as you moved quickly in the cabin. Every inch was covered in plastic. You two moved around each other as if you were long time dance partners, every move choreographed, every move done with precision.

Spencer stood and watched, objectively, trying not to let it sink in that you two were really about to kill someone.

Next, you and Dexter carried Jiminez into the room, finished off the plastic, and got him strapped to the table after disrobing him. Not a word was spoken the entire time and Spencer couldn’t help but notice. Dexter didn’t have to tell you what was next, he didn’t have to instruct you on a single thing. This was as methodical as it could get.

You got Dexter’s slides ready, along with his scalpel and dropper. Dexter busied himself with his clothing, getting all the gear in place. You and Spencer put on your face shields, to protect from blood spatter.

“Y/N, do you have your knife?” Dexter asked.

“Yes.”

“Go ahead and show me where you’d stop blood flow,” he evenly requested.

It was becoming increasingly clear to Spencer as he watched you two that everything had a purpose, everything was clinical. There was no malice in it. It was only calculating. The entire time you three had been together today, there wasn’t any jokes, any goofing off. When you and Dexter interacted, it was educational.

You put the knife over his chest, the tip barely cutting through the plastic.

Dexter again, offered his hand, without warning, and wrapped his fingers around yours from the opposite side of the table.

“Almost, just a hair up towards the chin and towards the left just a little,” he calmly explained.

“Right,” you agreed, then pulled your blade away.

“Wait, you’re not killing him?” Spencer asked.

“No, this is Dexter’s kill. In light of who this man is, Dexter has elected to kill him the exact same way his mother was… with no mercy.”

As you finished your sentence, Jiminez began stirring. Dexter made his way to the head of the table.

“Here we are again,” he said, picking up the surgical blade and slicing along his victim’s cheek.

“What-- what the fuck?!” Jiminez gasped out.

“I know. I keep asking myself that same question.” He absorbed the blood, and squirted it onto the readied slides provided by you.

“Let me out of here!”

“But.. I’m finding it’s best to accept things you can’t change. Now is where I have a chat with you, so you know exactly why you’re here. I think you have a pretty good idea, and I certainly know why you’re here, but I have some company tonight that I’d like you to tell.”

He glanced at you and Spencer. Jiminez did the same.

“Let me go. I got cocaine. You can have all of it.”

“It’s funny you should say that. I am off the wagon. But that was never my drug.”

“I’ll fucking kill you!” he cried out angrily.

“Hey,” you quietly commanded, hovering over Jiminez. “My friend told you to talk. Years ago. You committed a heinous crime in a shipping container, a young woman, two boys. I want you to admit it.”

“Fuck you!” Jiminez spat.

You slapped Jiminez hard, but swift. “Cut the sht. You’re strapped to our table, huh? You’re not getting out of this. The least you can do is maybe clear your conscience before you meet your maker. So confess. What was it you did all those years ago to a young mother in front of her kids?”

Jiminez stared at you, he looked like he was about to spit at you or shout more obscenities so you warned him.

“If you spit at me, or say anything other than what happened, I’ll make you wish you never opened your mouth. Are we clear?”

He nodded once.

“Fucking hell! Fine! I cut her up. I chopped her to pieces. I killed that bitch because she was fucking a cop! Not my fault her fucking kids were there! It had to be done!” he cried out. “It wasn’t personal! It was business!”

“It was personal for him,” you said, pointing to Dexter. “You killed a young mother in front of two innocent little boys. They grew up to be killers, just like you. You took their lives away. All for some blow? I hope you rot.” You looked up to Dexter, giving him a nod to signal you were done. Then you took a step back next to Spencer.

Spencer glanced between you and Jiminez. Finally, it was clear to him. This man had no redeeming qualities. Cat adams was a walk int he park compared to him. He finally truly understood what this whole thing was about, how you two worked.

“I’m going to kill you tonight, Mr. Jiminez for what you did to my mother, and because well, this is what I do best.”

At that, Dexter picked up the chainsaw at his feet, started it, and began cutting. You’d seen this before, but not on a live victim. Spencer hadn’t been exposed to this, making you still very unsure where his mind was at.

The goriness was done, the body was cut, ready to be transported into a bag and then moved. Dexter began going through his wallet.

“Is this usually part of the routine?” Spencer asked.

“No, but I’m curious,” Dexter passively said. He dug into the wallet and found a note that had the address of the bowling alley and the time he went. “What the hell?” he mused.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” you asked, making your way over to him to read what was in his hand. “What--”

“I only went with you, but I also told my sponsor where I went that night. Lila. Fuck!” he cried out.

“Lila? I told you to get away from her,” you reminded angrily.

“I’ve been trying to. But this means that she called Jiminez and told him where I was going to be.”

“But why?”

He threw his head back in thought. “She probably wanted us to be close. The night I met Jiminez, we got into a fight. I was upset, broken, she and I shared a hotel room. Nothing happened except us talking all the way into the morning. I bet she thought if he attacked me again, I’d go running to her.”

“That’s why you and Rita have been on and off lately, isn't it? She found out about you and Lila.”

“That, and some other things.”

You shook your head. “Dex...” Disappointment laced your tone. “I told you that chick was bad news.”

“I know, I fucked up, but--”

His phone rang and he held up a finger before he answered it. It was Rita, she asked if he had used her key to the house. He told her to get out of the house and call the cops. He hung up the phone and quickly explained he needed to leave because he thought Lila might be at Rita's house.

“I can drop you two off at your hotel, but I really need to go,” he said.

“No, we’re going with you to Rita’s. If Lila is there, we need to help you.”

“Are you just going to leave this guy here?” Spencer asked, gesturing to the body, sounding alarmed.

“Well I can’t take him with me. Use some of those IQ points, Agent Reid.”

“It’s Dr. Reid,” he spat back, his face eerily calm so you quickly stepped between them.

“Okay, calm down. Dexter, let’s just go back to the city. Jiminez isn’t the type to share a cabin full of cocaine with anyone.”

“Can you dispose of him?” he asked.

“With what? We don’t have your boat.”

“Shit, you’re right. Okay. We’ll just have to deal with him later. I need to go to Rita’s.”

With that, the three of you took what you needed and loaded into the van quickly. Dexter nearly broke the speed limit the whole way. You changed into your old clothes and stuffed the bloody ones in a bag and kept them in the van for Dexter to deal with. Spencer took off the cardigan he wore over, leaving him in a normal shirt.

The three of you walked up to Rita’s place. She apologized for bothering you before asking why you two were there.

“We were out for drinks,” you quickly lied easily. “Good to see you again Rita, just wish it were better circumstances.”

With that, Dexter spoke to the police while you tried to console Rita. When he was done, he said he was going to see Lila.

“Let me come. You don't need to face this psycho on your own.”

“No, Y/N, I really do,” he responded, walking quickly. He turned and put his hands on your shoulders. “Thank you, for coming ot make sure Rita and the kids are alright both of you--” he shot a look to Spencer “--but I need to face her on my own. If i show up with you, it’ll just add fuel to the fire of this jealous inferno she has. I can handle it. I’ll drop you at your hotel and then I’m going to her place. I’ll be fine.”

And so he did. He drove you to your hotel where you hugged him quickly, called him an idiot for not listening to you sooner, to which he smiled and agreed, then he left to face his psycho sponsor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging:

Forever Tag:

@essie1876

@magpiegirl80

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

@iamwarrenspeace

@marvel-imagines-yes-please

@superwholocked527

@missinstantgratification

@thejemersoninferno

@rda1989

@munlis

@thefridgeismybestie

@bubblyanarocks3

@igiveupicantthinkofausername

@kaliforniacoastalteens

@feelmyroarrrr

@kaeling

@friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo

@damalseer

@heyitscam99

@yknott81

@thelittlebigirl

@glitterquadricorn

@xxqueenofisolationxx

@little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama

@bittersweetunicorm

@alyssaj23

@sea040561

@princess76179

@thisismysecrethappyplace

@sarahp879

@malfoysqueen14

@ellallheart

@breezy1415

@marvelmayo

@paintballkid711

Spencer Reid

@camigt1999

@ultrarebelheart

@lenawiinchester

@esoltis280

ITCM

@arganfics

#inside the criminal mind #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #dexter morgan #dexter #dexter fic

33 notes · View notes

lenalvthor · 6 years

Note

Ayyyyy, so idk of this is the right blig, but if you wanted ideas for little mini fics relating to the hsau, I'd love to see how Sara and Ava's relationship was before the whole thing with Ava's coming out. Anyway, I love the fic and I hope you have a wonderful day!

hi!! 💛apologies for leaving this in my inbox for so long, this last week has been a ROLLERCOASTER but i promise you, i did see this and get very excited abt it and send it to rachel and we were both freaked out a bit abt getting prompts for the fic

so we have many, many ideas about pre-fic avalance in this au. like Many. many to the point that we don’t have the time to write an actual mini fic about it because the fic would be the furtherest thing from mini. also, bc it would be rlly weird to have to try and go back and write them before all of this, like we go back and read ‘don’t you like you’ and everything feels so strange bc we wrote it before we had this big detailed plan for everything that was gonna happen between them and it just feels crazy that they were in this place where they weren’t even friends let alone in love

but what i am gonna do. is give you a fuckload of bullet headcanons instead. so i hope that suffices bc buckle up, there’s gonna be a few 🌈🌈

so ava and sara don’t go to the same elementary school. they’re both star city natives though so they kind of know of each other. sara did dance when she was little and was in layla’s dance class and ava was sometimes there when barbara came to pick her up etc etc.

(ava’s school was a little nicer, was the fancier star city school that barbara teaches at. damien insisted nora went there bc of it’s good reputation and gary’s mom wanted the best possible start for her son, hence how the three of them ended up there and became friends)

so by the time middle school comes around and they actually become a part of each other’s spheres, they know the other vaguely by name and the like

in middle school, ava and sara meet and they don’t quite get along but they don’t rlly know each other so it’s not an issue - sara’s this reckless trouble maker that ava wants nothing to do with bc she wants to just do well and be liked and successful and normal while sara’s off getting into fights and sneaking out of school and never doing anything by the rules, so not interacting pretty much suits them both just fine

until in 8th grade, after spencer leaves to join the army and ava’s still trying to piece herself back together and he left around the time that she decides she was going to quit basketball after this season and she was scared she might be gay and starts vehemently ignoring any and all possibilities of that fact - that’s when sara lance comes out as bi

and sara doesn’t know why ava suddenly makes a point to argue with her more than usual, or call her out in her bullshit, or just be a general pain in the ass but she is, and what sara doesn’t realise is that ava’s angry that sara came out bc it put ava in a position where we had to actually confront herself abt her sexuality

sara has a quiet suspicion of why ava’s acting like this, and it would sort of make sense that ava would be gay (or bi, but sara thinks gay) but also she doesn’t wanna assume so she leaves it and just pushes ava’s buttons just as hard

but it’s not all bad, bc the day nyssa and sara start dating, everyone at school is talking about it and ava knows her friends will be too and she’s terrified bc she doesn’t want to know if they think it’s weird, but kuasa just goes “whoa, no way” and lily whistles and says “damn, they’re probably the hottest couple at school” and gary doesn’t say anything but he’s got this look of curiosity and relief on his face and nora is looking at him carefully before she just glances over at sara and says “good for them” and ava doesn’t know if she wants to laugh or cry with relief

(and it’s still 2 and half years before she even tells nora - the first person she comes out to - but it’s a start at least)

ava and sara get better for a bit in 8th grade, but then high school happens and suddenly they’re in the same homeroom and heaps of classes together and being partnered / grouped up for projects all the time and they both just get on each other’s nerves to no end

both of them are vying to be rip’s favourite in class and it makes ava furious and sara so smug because ava wanted to be the teachers pet bc she worked hard and did a load of extra curriculars and was always polite and on time and we’ll behaved, whereas rip just liked sara because she was entertaining and good at soccer and a little too cocky for her own good

and around this time, sara is slowly becoming friends with amaya and ray and jax and nate, is being less reckless and dangerous and unbearable as she was in middle school, starting to mellow a bit

but anyway; they’re at each other’s throats all of freshman year but their rivalry ends up being kind of fun bc arguing in class when it’s actually about school isn’t as frustrating for all the teachers and sara notices that ava actually makes her think, makes her feel smart, bc she can actually kind of keep up with the smartest girl in their entire grade, and ava meanwhile realises that sara is actually pretty smart, she’s actually kind of a genius and if she actually tried, she could probably give ava a run for her money and that both infuriates and pleasantly surprises ava

but then early sophomore year, nyssa leaves. sara’s not at school for a few days and by the time she comes back, everyone Knows because it’s high school and nothing can stay secret for long, and everyone’s trying not to gossip bc sara’s slowly become quite popular around school but they can’t help it, they all wanna know what’s going on

and ava detests sara but she’s always admired her for coming out, for being so proud abt it and dating nyssa when there was like a grand total of 3 other lgbt people at school all of whom fit every single stereotype that ava wanted nothing to do with (and she’ll never admit it, but she had always felt kind of safe and comforted knowing nyssa and sara were dating bc it made her feel like she would be ok one day), so she can’t even imagine how sara feels especially if the rumours about why nyssa left are true

sara’s heartbroken and angry and confused and she keeps pushing ava with jabs and mocking retorts and remarks that are lot harsher and more biting than usual but ava just smothers the urge to respond and rolls her eyes pointedly and ignores her bc she knows sara’s just lashing out

and at one point in gym, sara just drops her back and turns to face ava and demands “what the fuck is your problem sharpe?” and ava crosses her arms and goes “pretty sure you’re the once with the problem here, lance.” to that, sara glares and spits out “i’m not the one walking around with this fucking holier than thou attitude as if you’re better than me. can you at least argue back instead of rolling over like a doormat?” and ava literally wants to throw a dodgeball at her but she just holds her ground, doesn’t say anything, keeps sara’s gaze before biting her lip and looking away for the briefest of seconds. sara makes this smug huff of triumph, as though ava’s abt to fight back but ava just looks back at sara with an expression that’s too gentle, and says “i’m sorry about nyssa, sara.” and goes to join her dodgeball team

(amaya comes over to ask sara what it was about and sara can’t bring herself to answer, just shakes her head because she doesn’t quite know what just happened)

things get better quickly, like. sara would never say it at the time but zari is this refreshing burst of fresh air who didn’t know nyssa the way all her other friends did and it’s so nice to have her around, even tho she’s still quite new. and then wally comes to star city and everything is fun and exciting w the legends and things aren’t perfect, definitely not bc oliver and laurel break up and sara and laurel have been fighting just usually like sisters do and dinahs been calling, on saras ass abt her slipping grades at school and sara just wants to piss them both off so she hooks up w oliver (and they’ve known each other for so long that they both feel guilty abt it and they try to make it a Thing bc they don’t want to admit that they both just used each other for different reasons)

it it’s sometime after that, after she and oliver collapsed under the very weak foundation their relationship was already built on, after laurel starts dating tommy, after amaya promises sara she’s not a bad person for what happened with oliver, it’s sometime then that ava makes that challenging retort abt sara even trying to get a better grade than her in french

and all sara can think of is laurel, the way laurel hadn’t been mad when she hooked up with oliver, the way laurel had just snuck into her room late at night and slipped under the covers and hugged sara close as sara broke down abt why their mom just didnt care abt all the good things sara was doing, the way laurel had softly murmured “you’re brilliant sara. you are, you’re so smart and so capable and if mom can’t see that, then she doesn’t deserve to.”

so sara does try. and she gets an a+. and the beam on laurel’s face when she sees it on sara’s desk, the pride on quentin’s when sara tells him - sara never looks back (and she also starts to look a bit more at ava, because maybe she’s not all horrible)

gary comes out at the very end of sophomore year, sara goes over to give him a hug and she sees the expression on ava’s face - proud and protective and kind but also sort of hurt and definitely, definitely jealous, and sara suddenly remembers the way ava had acted towards her after sara had first come out and she remembers her vague, kind of unfounded assumption that maybe ava was gay, realises that ava’s never had a boyfriend, never said yes to any of the numerous attractive guys who have asked her out

but also, sara’s known ava for like, 4 years by now and she knows what kind of family ava has and she feels this sudden ache in her chest bc ava must be in the most difficult position - sara doesn’t even know if ava is aware of it, so she doesn’t wanna say anything or offer support (also bc ava still grinds her gears to no end)

but she just keeps an eye out, checks ava’s facebook / instagram every once in a while to see if she’s posted anything abt it or added smth like a pride flag to her bio

and then on a sunday evening in october junior year, ava comes out on facebook. sara doesn’t see it first, in fact, she’s lying on the living room couch trying to not fall asleep reading her social studies text book when from the armchair, laurel lets out a quiet “huh” and both quentin and sara say “what?” at the same time and laurel goes “ava sharpe’s in your grade, right sara?” and sara nods and quentin’s like “is that the girl you did that chem assignment with earlier in the year?” and sara wrinkles her nose and goes “unfortunately. she’s a pain in my ass.” and laurel just hums and says “well, she just came out.”

sara almost falls off the couch, scrambling into a sitting position and snatching laurel’s phone and ignoring laurel’s protesting “hey!”

she reads the post through several times before she goes to comment and realises she’s on laurel’s phone, grabbing her own but then she hesitates, wanting to write something genuine but it feels too vulnerable so instead goes “ffs sharpe, on top of everything else, i now have to compete with you for hot girls too?”, but she opens messenger and goes “hey, just wanted to say congrats on coming out. i know it’s nowhere near easy to tell your family so like, hope that went okay. and i’m here if you wanna talk abt it at all.”

and the day after, as they’re clearing up microscopes and stuff in bio, ava quietly thanks her for her message and sara shrugs, goes “i get it.” and ava pauses before quietly admitting “you know i always admired you for being out. especially when we were so young back in middle school. i’d only just started thinking about it then and … i was a mess. seeing you being out and happy and just - the same person you’d always been … that helped more than you know.”

and it’s probably the most meaningful conversation they’ve ever had (or at least had in a Long time)

and 4 days later, ava shows up on sara’s doorstep after a fight with her mom at dinner and this entire fic began.

also, for your own reading pleasure, some other random moments we thought of;

sara only ever called ava ‘sharpe’ or ‘sharpie’ or any other variation of her name until they were both 15/16

ava used to roll her eyes every time sara got a a bad grade because she could be so much better if she tried, but she doesnt

sara nearly started a fight the first time she and ava had to work together on a project, and once they started it and it became clear they worked well together she was the Most Annoyed™️

back in middle school ava always scoffed and made some patronising comment every time she watched someone break up a fight sara had gotten into (except for the one time in the first few weeks of class when she had to stop sara throwing her second, or maybe third punch at a homophobic jerk in their class who’d cornered her on the way back from school - that time she shoved him away and watched him go before turning and cautiously asking if sara was okay, and sara glared at her and told her she’d had everything under control before storming off in the opposite direction)

there are probably many many headcanons for this part of the universe that we will think of but i hope this suffices for now, feel free to come yell about anything legends / fic related bc this was so much fun 💖💞

#lot #legends of tomorrow #avalance #you make me smile #anonymous #cileme writes #lot hs au

60 notes · View notes

randomrichards · 5 years

Text

THE BEST MOVIE MOMENTS OF 2018:

HONORABLE MENTION:

The Opening/Closing Credits from BUDDIES

I’m putting this as honorable mention because this is an older movie recently rereleased.

The first film about the AIDS Crisis, Buddies strikes at the heart with its opening credits with a typed list of AIDS victim up to 1985. Set to a mournful score by Jeffrey Olmstead, the never ending list of lives cut short puts you in tears.

Alex Honnold faces Boulder Problem in FREE SOLO

Most thrillers can only wish they could be as gripping as in the moment when Alex Honnold maneuver’s his way through the most challenging section of El Capitan Wall without rope in this Documentary.

Ray Offers Wisdom from Mid90s

“If you looked in anybody else’s closet, you wouldn’t trade your shit for their shit.”

Ray (Na-kel Smith) and his friends may not be the best role models for the impressionable Stevie (Sunny Suljic), but in this moment, Ray teaches him a lesson in perspective.

Glenn Close’s performance in THE WIFE

I’m not referring to any moment. Just Glenn Close’s acting. She speaks more volumes with her face than most actresses could with dialogue.

10) The Beach Scene from ROMA

Cleo (Yalitza Aparicio) is an extraordinary woman. Sure, her life hanging towels and cleaning dog poo doesn’t seem like anything special. But like many lower working-class people, she endures. Boy does she endure a lot of shit in this movie. Not only does her deadbeat boyfriend ditch her to practice martial arts, but her baby is born dead. Despite all this, she not only continues her work, but she shares a close bond with the family. She showcases this bond and her strength when a fun day at the beach goes horribly wrong.

When Paco (Carlos Peralta) and Sofi (Daniela Demesa) swim too far out, Cleo walks into the ocean to save them despite not knowing how to swim. We watch in dread as she faces severe waves to find the kids, the camera always close to her.

This scene also contains a beautiful scene of the family hugging Cleo when she tears up over losing her baby. Seeing them all huddled together in front of a bright white sun captures the heart.

9) “A Place Called Slaughter Race” from RALPH BREAKS THE INTERNET

Admit it, it’s fun to take pot shots at Disney Tropes. Hell, even Disney gets in on the fun. And boy do they seize on every moment to mock Princess tropes when Vanellope Von Shweetz (voiced by Sarah Silverman) encounters the Disney Princesses. Of course, it helps that Director Rich Moore and Head of Story Jim Reardon creates some of the best episodes of the Simpsons. Though there are many hilarious moments[1], none can hold the candle to Vanellope’s “I Want” song.

As she reflects over a puddle, Vanellope sings about her longing to be in the gritty game “Slaughter Race.” Seeing this little girl perform this lighthearted musical number over a background of riots and dumpster fires is comedy gold. Nearly every element of this number elevates the comedy, from singing shark (with cats and dogs in its mouth) to the creative lyrics (“Am I a baby pigeon spreading wings to soar?/ Is that a metaphor?/Hey, there’s a dollar store”). And the number still finds time to emphasize Vanellope’s fear of hurting Ralph (John. C Reilly).

Kudos to Alan Menken for mocking the trope he (and the late Howard Ashman) introduced to Disney. Just as deserving of Kudos is Silverman, who faced to task of singing in Vanellope’s high pitched voice.

8) Charlie Loses Her Head from HEREDITARY

With her unusual hobbies, connection to her late grandmother and that clicking sound, you’d assume Annie’s (Toni Collette) daughter Charlie (Milly Shapiro) would be the centre of the whole film.[2] Boy, were we in for a surprise.

Spoilers!

When Charlie suffers a peanut allergy reaction, Peter (Alex Wolfe) races her home. On his drive, he sees a mysterious figure in the middle of the dark road. In his attempt to dodge it, he doesn’t see Charlie hanging out the window. Seeing her head slam right into a pole leaves us as traumatized as Peter is. To see them kill off a main character so early in the film is downright shocking. With this death, predictability goes right out the window and we are left uncertain of what direction this film will go.

7) Neil Armstrong Soars in the X-15 Rocket Plane in FIRST MAN

It’s funny how the most exciting scene in this film isn’t the moon landing. Don’t get me wrong, the scene’s still breathtaking in its realism, but it’s surprising how thrilling the opening scene.

Damien Chazelle hits the ground running with Neil Armstrong (Ryan Gosling) soaring the atmosphere in an X-15 Rocket Plane. He soars higher and higher into the skies until he flies out of earth’s surface and gets stuck in space

Albeit, you know he will be back on earth in time for the moon landing. And yet, I found myself on the edge of my seat, wondering how he’s going to get back to earth. Most of it is thanks to the visual effects, which contains some of the most believable since 2001: A Space Odyssey. The effects leave CGI in the dust with practical effects that look so real, you’d think Gosling was actually flying into space.

6) The Ferris Wheel Scene from LOVE, SIMON

High School Movies are home to many unforgettable romantic scenes. There’s Samantha (Molly Ringwald) and Jake (Michael Schoeffling) standing over a birthday cake in Sixteen Candles. There’s Patrick (Heath Ledger) singing to Katarina (Julia Stiles) on the bleachers in 10 Things I hate About You. And who can forget Lloyd Dobler (John Cusack) blaring Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes” outside Diane Court’s (Ione Skye) in Say Anything. Be ready to include the closing scene of Simon (Nick Robinson) waiting on the Ferris wheel for online pen pal Blue from Love, Simon.

After being outed by a student, infuriating his friends for deceiving them in his attempt to stay closeted and abandoned by Blue, Simon makes a plea to meet with Blue face to face on the Ferris Wheel at a carnival. As he rides on the Ferris Wheel, he, fellow classmates and the audience wait in anticipation for Simon’s happy ending.

5) The Book Heist from AMERICAN ANIMALS

When Spencer Reinhard (Barry Keoghan) and Warren Lipka (Evan Peters) plotted to steal extremely valuable books from the Transylvania University library in Kentucky, they thought they had the perfect heist. With the help of their friends Erick Borsuk (Jared Abrahamson) and Chas Allen (Blake Jenner), they thought they pull off a heist as smooth as Oceans 11.[3]

But reality hits them like a sledge hammer when they try to pull off the heist. Unlike their dreams, Librarian Betty Jean Gooch (Ann Dowd) doesn’t get knocked out with one taser jolt. It also isn’t easy to lug a six-foot book down a flight of stairs. Then there’s the fact the basement has no exit. That’s just a few of many problems they never consider. From then on, we witness them pay a huge price for their hubris and lack of real-world understanding.

Only youths as smart as they are to come up with such a stupid plan.

4) The Mutant Bear from ANNIHILATION

Biologist Lena (Natalie Portman) and her team find themselves in a quite a bind. After entering the Shimmer, physicist Josie Radek (Tessa Thompson) has barely survived an attack from a mutant alligator and Anthropologist Cassie Sheppard (Tuva Novotny) has been attacked by a bear. Now paramedic Anya Thorensen (Gina Rodriguez) has gone mad and has tied up Lena, Radek and Dr. Ventress (Jennifer Jason Leigh). But when they hear Sheppard’s cries for help, they will soon find Anya is the least of their worries.

Their journey delivers many grotesque, nightmare inducing visuals (especially the slithering intestines.) But the most memorable moment in this film was the image of the helpless crew trapped in a cabin with a mutant bear. Bears are scary enough on their own, but a faceless one is pants spitting meeting. And then you hear it imitate Sheppard’s screams and suddenly you need a new pair of pants.

3) The Great Snap from AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR

The whole Marvel Cinematic Universe had been leading up to this moment. The fact that nearly every character had a moment to shine in this one movie demonstrates the astounding direction of the Russo Brothers. But despite all the epic fight scenes, everyone agrees that this film’s greatest scene is the heroes moment of defeat.

Despite every effort made to stop in, despite outnumbering Thanos and despite Scarlet Witch (Elizabeth Olsen) sacrificing Vision (Paul Bettany) to destroy the mind stone, Thanos still got all the infinity stones. And with a single snap, Thanos succeeds in wiping out half the universe’s population. One by one, we watch many of our heroes vanish into dust while others watch in helpless horror. But none are more heartbreaking that the moment when Spider-Man (Tom Holland) falls into Tony Stark’s (Robert Downey Jr.) arms, crying “I don’t want to go.” All because some characters couldn’t make the sacrifice needed

Yes, we knew he was going to succeed in the end.[4] And yes, you know most of the heroes won’t stay gone.[5] And yes, their return will likely involve the surviving heroes sacrificing themselves.[6] But the ending still feels powerful despite this knowledge.

It all concludes with Thanos sitting near a cottage, content in his triumph. If the MCU ended here, it would have been a perfect ending. But I’m still curious to see how this will go.

2) The Closing Close-Up in CAPERNAUM

The closing image of Zain’s (Zain Al Rafeea) face will haunt you beyond the closing credits. Throughout the film, we’ve seen this kid struggle through hell on the streets of Lebanon, trying to protect his sister from their resentful parents and helping an Ethiopian Migrant Worker take care of her son. But when he’s sent to prison for assaulting a pimp who bought his sister, he decides to sue his parents for the crime of bringing him into this miserable world. Writer/director Nadine Labaki never looks away for a second to the brutality of Zain’s world and how it brings out the worst in Zain.

When the film freezes to the image of Zain smiling for a Passport photo, your heart breaks for him as Khaled Mouzanar’s haunting score plays out.

1) Tish and Fonny’s Walk Through the Park in IF BEALE STREET COULD TALK

No other opening scene has done a better job of putting its audience under its spell than when loving couple Tish (Kiki Layne) and Alfonzo “Fonny” Hunt (Stephan James) stroll through a park holding hands.

There’s beauty in every element of this scene, from Nicholas Britell’s romantic score to the warm looks in the character’s eyes. But what really sells it is James Laxton’s lush cinematography. The colours pop through the yellows and blues on the couple’s clothes and the green of the grass. You are as in love with this couple as they are for each other.

Then the film cuts to Tish visiting Fonny in prison, this time the yellow is the prison, the blue is Fonny’s jumpsuit and the green is on Tish’ outfit. From then one, we know why their love is worth fighting for.

[1] Mostly at the expense of Ariel (Jodi Benson)

[2] Especially when she appears so prominently in the advertisements.

[3] As indicated by a fantasy sequence.

[4] Since we know this was going to be a two parter.

[5] Especially when there are already planned sequels to Black Panther, Spider-Man and Guardians of the Galaxy. After all the money Marvel’s got from Black Panther? They’re not going to give up that meal ticket.

[6] What with Robert Downey Jr. and Chris Evans retiring their characters.

#random richards #Random Richards Reviews #If Beale Street Could Talk #ralph breaks the internet #Capernaum #Avengers #infinity war #annihilation #American Animals #Love Simon #Buddies #Free Solo #Mid90s #Roma #The Wife #First Man #Hereditary #a place called slaughter race

4 notes · View notes

eideticreid · 6 years

Text

First Case » Spencer Reid

Pairing: Reader x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1,988

Warnings: None

Summary: You are heading out onto your first case within the BAU, and Hotch pairs you up with your new favourite person.

Tag: @ultrarebelheart, @captainreid, @cynbx

You had never been to Dallas, Texas before. But a serial killer, known as an UnSub within the Behavioral Analysis Unit, had brought you to the beautiful city for your first ever case.

You were feeling a mixture of emotions as you sat in the SUV, heading to the dump site of the latest victim, preparing yourself for what was probably going to be a days long case.

You were excited to use your skills and knowledge you had learnt over the years; you were determined to catch the UnSub and bring justice to those who needed it, and you were nervous in case you messed this up.

It was your first and only time to prove your worth to the team. Your first time to show them that you belong at the BAU.

Whilst on the private jet, Hotch had dished out jobs for each member of the team, and much to your delight he had paired you up with Spencer. You were excited about this because it meant more alone time with him.

Yours and Spencer’s job was to visit the dump site of the latest victim, Grace Chambers.

The only information you had on the case was that the UnSub targeted young girls between the ages of twenty-one and twenty-five; all were held hostage for three days whilst being brutally beaten, and then subsequently being murdered by blunt force trauma to the head.

“How are you feeling now we’re in Dallas?” Spencer asked from behind the wheel.

He could sense your excitement had dwindled, now being replaced with anxiety.

You thought for a second, “I’m a little nervous, to be honest. I just want to prove to you guys that I’m good enough for this job.”

“No one thinks that you aren’t.” He stated, briefly looking at you. “Didn’t you graduate top of your class in the academy?”

“Yeah, but I don’t have near enough the experience you all have.”

“It’s true, the academy can only teach you so much. But you’ll be fine. You’re intelligent. Hotch would never have hired you if he didn’t think you were capable. Don’t start doubting yourself now.”

You smiled, “I’ll try my best to remember that. Thanks, Spence.”

There was that nickname again.

His heart skipped a beat when his name slipped from your mouth, although this time you were aware of the shortened version you used. He blushed; he liked the way his name sounded when you spoke it.

“You know, J.J’s the only person who calls me Spence.”

“Oh,” You blushed hard, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise. In future I’ll just stick with Spencer. Or Reid. I mean, which would you prefer?”

He noticed your slight stammering, and smiled at how cute you sounded. “I didn’t mean for that to sound rude. I was just stating that J.J is the only person who calls me that. I actually don’t mind you calling me Spence.”

“Oh, okay,” You didn’t know why, but you were still blushing, “It just seems natural for me to say Spence. So if you really don’t mind, I might just stick with that.” You grinned.

He chuckled, “Totally don’t mind.”

As the conversation seemed to end, you started paying more attention to the streets of Dallas passing you by. Even though you were here under unfortunate circumstances, you still thought this city was appealing and fascinating.

“You wanna know what I do when I feel anxious?” Spencer asked, “I read. I mean, I read for pleasure mostly, but it also helps if I’m feeling anxious about something.”

“Does it really work?” You were curious.

“For me, yeah. Studies have shown that just six minutes of reading can help reduce stress levels by up to sixty percent. That’s sixty-eight percent better than listening to music, a hundred percent better than drinking tea, and three hundred percent better than going for a walk.” He explained.

“See I’ve always tried listening to music to calm my nerves.” You stated, “But if reading is more effective, then I should definitely try that out.”

You noticed that Spencer was pulling up to the side of the road, and when you caught sight of the yellow tape sectioning off an alleyway, you realised you were at your destination.

“What were you reading on the jet earlier?” You asked, stepping out from the SUV.

“Strangers on a Train by Patricia Highsmith. It’s a good read, I highly recommend.”

“You did look very invested.” You both walked over to the scene, flashing your credentials to the officer patrolling the area, “Any other books you recommend?”

Spencer held up the tape so you could both duck underneath it, “I could recommend many books,” He chuckled, “How about I give you a list later of my personal favourites?”

“I’d love that, thanks.”

• • •

You and the team had been working tirelessly all day to find clues and information on the UnSub, and now all of you were exhausted and ready for bed.

You and Spencer had returned to the police station after visiting the dump site — an alleyway in the roughest part of Dallas — and you both concluded that the UnSub left Grace’s body there for anyone to find, because he lacked concern, sympathy and interest.

When you returned to the police station, Hotch had instructed for you and Spencer to start a geographical profile, along with J.J, and that’s where you had been for hours. Trying to make connections; trying to find clues.

Your brain was frazzled.

“You know what, I don’t think I can function anymore without coffee. Do you guys want one?” J.J asked, rising from her seat.

“Yes, please.” Spencer replied.

You knew coffee at 9 P.M. was a bad idea, “Not for me, thanks. But I wouldn’t say no to water.”

J.J smiled, “Coming right up. You know (Y/L/N), I wish I could make good decisions like you.”

You chuckled as she left the room, leaving you and Spencer alone once again. He was sitting at the long table with you, staring intently at all the folders and pieces of paper sprawled in front of him.

You looked over at the big board beside you, a map of Dallas enlarged, pins located on each dump site of the UnSub’s victims and where they were last seen.

“So we’ve established the dump sites have no significance to the UnSub, just wherever is convenient for him.” You thought aloud, “But he’s got to be keeping these girls in a secluded area for the three days he holds them hostage. A place where he can’t be disturbed.”

“A place where passers by wouldn’t hear the screams of the girls.” Spencer carried on, turning to the board, “The dump sites are all roughly two miles from each other, but it’s hard to tell if there’s any secluded areas on this map around where he left the bodies.”

You smiled, you were getting somewhere. “I believe that’s a job for our tech genius friend back home.”

Just as Spencer went to retrieve his phone from his pocket to call Garcia, Derek and Elle had returned from their jobs looking exhausted and mentally drained.

“Kids, please tell me you have something.” Derek moaned, as he flopped down onto a chair.

“We might have a potential lead,” Spencer said, now watching Hotch and Gideon walk into the room, “We were just going to call Garcia for her assistance.”

He dialled her number and after three rings she picked up, “You’ve reached Penelope Garcia in the FBI’s Office of Supreme Genius.”

You smiled. “Hey Garcia, it’s Reid. We need you to look up isolated abandoned buildings and secluded houses in Dallas.”

“Preferably somewhere that’s not situated in the city. We are looking for a place where no one would suspect a thing, or hear the cries and screams of our victims.” You further explained.

“You got it love bugs.”

• • •

In no less than thirty minutes had you all pulled up outside of an abandoned warehouse, thanks to Penelope’s tech skills.

After gathering information from Penelope’s finds and then making connections to the profile you’d all delivered, you realised that Vincent Woods was your UnSub and his next target was likely his ex-girlfriend.

With your bullet proof FBI vests securely on, and your weapons firmly in your hands, you had all fanned out around the warehouse in pairs from Hotch’s orders.

You and Spencer walked around a corner, covering each other, when Hotch had started speaking into the device in your ear. “Guys, J.J has just left Gabrielle’s house. She’s missing. There seems to have been a struggle. We now have reason to believe Vincent already has her, so go easy on approach.”

You and Spencer shared a look before walking down a corridor, making sure to have each others backs the whole time.

Around two minutes later, you and Reid had entered into the main room of the warehouse, the same time Derek and Elle did from across the other side.

“FBI! Put down your weapon!” Derek bellowed.

Your UnSub had jumped at the loud noise your co-worker had made and scrambled to grab his ex-girlfriend so she was now in front of him. His own human shield.

He pressed his gun to Gabrielle’s head, “Stay away! Get away! Don’t come any closer!”

“Vincent Woods, we will not ask you again. Put down your weapon!” Elle spoke sternly.

“Or what?” He pressed, “You’ll shoot me? Good luck with that. You’ll just end up shooting her too.” An evil smirk graced his lips.

“We know she hurt you,” Spencer spoke, “We know she left you heart broken and alone. But do you really think killing her is the answer?”

“Yes!” He shouted, “She deserves to feel the hurt and pain she put me through!” He pressed the gun further into Gabrielle’s temple.

You and the team had come to the conclusion that the girls he killed were just tests to see what the best method of torture and murder was, and that it all ultimately ended with Gabrielle and what she deserved.

“No good is going to come out from this, Woods.” You said, repositioning how you held your gun, “You kill her but your pain will still remain. Don’t you want her to apologise for what she did?”

You were trying to buy some more time for the team to work out a plan in which Gabrielle made this out alive.

“Her apology means nothing.” He spat, “I know I’ll feel a lot better when she’s dead.”

The next few seconds had consisted of Hotch and Gideon sneaking up behind Vincent, alerting him of their presence, and then a shoot out happening because Vincent had been snuck up on once again.

You didn’t draw any bullets, purely because the angle you and Spencer were at didn’t give you a clear enough shot of him. But Derek had managed to shoot him twice in the back, taking him down without harming Gabrielle.

As you put your weapon back in its holster, you had noticed a small simple action that was made by Spencer.

He had stepped in front of you. When the guns were drawn he had stepped in front of you.

He turned around to face you with slight concern adorned on his features, “Are you okay?”

You nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine.” You hesitated to mention his movement at first, “Spence, you uh, you stepped in front of me.”

A blush had fastly approached his cheeks, “I uh, yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I, uh, did that.”

Before you could tell him that it was okay, he had walked off flustered at his stupid actions. You watched as he walked away, your heart thumping in your chest, but not because of the adrenaline of what just happened.

But because you was sure you were slowly developing feelings for Spencer Reid.

#Spencer Reid #Spencer Reid imagine #Reader x Spencer Reid #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds fic #Criminal Minds imagine #Aaron Hotchner #Jennifer Jareau #Penelope Garcia #Derek Morgan #Elle Greenaway #Jason Gideon

144 notes · View notes