Inspiration: Katy Perry’s Song “The One That Got Away”
Rating: Mature Setting: Season 4 Featuring: Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader
I am loving all the requests and song inspired fics out there. Please let me know what you all think! Warnings: Loss of a parent (the reader is a victim’s daughter), teenage angst and sexual awakenings. I do not own any of the characters or lyrics. Enjoy the fluff, stay for the smut, sorry for the tears. xoxo Stu
You hadn’t been home to visit your dad since last summer, having taken your students to Bulgaria to study the ancient city of Mesembria over your January term. His sprawling driveway was cleared and inviting, despite the wind that had followed you from the airport. You entered the security code on the side gate, your low heels clicking on the decorative stone walkway. The entry way to the kitchen was floor to ceiling glass doors that sparkled in the morning sun. You glance inside, expecting to see your dad tinkering with his espresso machine, or maybe making a smoothie with the juicer you got him one Fathers’ Day, after he declared he was going to lose some weight that summer.
Instead, you see an empty room, the sunlight barely penetrating the stone walled room. You cautiously step through the door, keeping your left hand on the brass handle. “Dad? Are you there?”
Silence answers. You drop your bag on the table, your footfalls echoing through the cavernous room. You check your phone, verifying that your Dad hadn’t left you a message while your were in airplane mode. No calls or texts. You went around the counter and through the main hall of the house. Now panic was holding your stomach hostage, gripping your insides the further you ventured in to the unlit house.
“Dad! I know you are not asleep, where are you?” You ditch your heels and climb the winding staircase up towards the bedrooms and offices. You found him at his desk, papers on every inch of the wooden surface. His head down, you thought he was correcting papers, or absorbed in a new research endeavor. When you take a step closer, you see the pool of blood around the rollers of the chair’s feet. You scream.
Derek Morgan was on the fourth mile on his course around Locust Shade Park when the case came through. He grudgingly huffed it back to his car, hoping he could get a shower in at the locker room before making it to the conference room. The drive to the office was quick, Agent Morgan scanned the parking lot for his fellow BAU members’ vehicles. Smirking as he found that Hotch’s and JJ’s cars were the only ones in parking spaces.
After a refreshingly hot shower, Derek secured his locker throwing his ‘GO BAG’ over his shoulder, to take it with to the case briefing. He passed through the bullpen nodding to Reid and Prentiss, both nursing fresh coffees. “Any word on the case?” Derek asks in passing.
“Something about Pasadena,” Prentiss answered noncommittally.
“Pasadena?” Reid asked alerted.
“What’s up pretty boy?” Morgan asked, surprised at the younger man’s alarm.
“Cal Tech is in Pasadena, Morgan.” Prentiss answered, leading the guys to the conference room.
“Right, so you going to dial up your old honeys once we get our unsub?” Morgan teased.
Luckily for Reid, the team was assembled and JJ was set to deliver the case. On the evidence screen a wizened face was peering back at the agents. Reid fumbled in his seat.
“Professor Graham Y/L/N was found dead in his Pasadena estate this morning. C.O.D is blood loss from being stabbed by an unknown object, numerous times.” JJ began.
“Who found Dr. Y/L/N?” Reid asked before Hotch could get a word in.
JJ glanced down at her notes. “His daughter Y/N, was visiting over spring break from Columbia.”
“Is she okay?” Reid followed, which gave everyone around the table pause.
“Reid, I am guessing she is pretty shaken up. But she is cooperating with the investigation, so chances are you can ask her yourself.” Hotch stood, attempting to steer the focus back to the case. “What is this about?”
Reid was pale, even more so than usual. He cleared his throat and looked down at the file put in front of him. He closed the folder and squinted his eyes closed for a moment. “Um, you see, Dr. Y/L/N was my first graduate school advisor while at Cal Tech. He is, well, was a very good man.”
“Reid, I am so sorry.” Emily Prentiss cooed at the grieving genius.
“It’s alright,” Reid sniffed, but his eyes remained clear.”Let’s just get the unsub.”
“Wheels up in 20, it is a long flight.” Hotch added quietly.
You sat in the police station fidgeting. The recycled air, chilled your already shaken frame. The detectives had asked you questions on and off for what seemed like years. You had your carry on bag with you, since it held some exams you wanted to read over. Your eyes continuously lost focus on the size 12 font, double spaced pages. You didn’t want to think about what you looked like to the other people in that crammed hall near the front doors of the station.
Rising, you approached the reception counter. You then left a note for the lead Detective, reminding him of your cell number and that you just went out for a quick bite. It had been six hours since you had made it home, 5 hours and 52 minutes since you became an orphan. Well, technically it had been nearing twelve hours since you had become an orphan, but it was 5 hours and 52 minutes since you knew you were one. Even inside your head, you rambled. One of those eccentric things you got from your dad, the socially awkward professor. Your heart tore just a little more.
He was sixteen when he first saw you. You were seventeen, fresh from graduating from your prep school out of state. Spencer had been invited over for dinner at Dr. Y/L/N’s house after a long day as a TA. He knew the professor’s daughter was home, he was just surprised that she would look like this.
At 16, Spencer had finally grown enough to not get stares from students and faculty around campus. His intelligent eyes and thin frame were agile in avoiding direct eye contact and much physical interaction from his academic peers. He purposely dressed like the professors, which actually made him look younger. He came off as a young man in a school uniform, instead of the scholar he was. He was animatedly speaking with Dr. Y/L/N, who had given him a ride, then suddenly there was a girl in the driveway.
Her long Y/H/C locks, were thrown up in a messy bun. Her legs were bare, save for the ragged denim cut offs she wore. Spencer stared, he was frozen in place in the passenger seat of your dad’s Volkswagen. He would never forget your smile that day, even if he didn’t have an eidetic memory.
Agent Morgan had shaken Spencer out of his memories.
“So you were pretty close with this guy, huh?” Derek prodded.
“He was a good friend.” Spencer nodded.
“Do you know his daughter, Y/N well?” Derek asked over his file folder.
“We’ve met, “ Spencer added, “I was taken under Graham’s wing, being such a young candidate, he was very fatherly toward me.”
“So you had a sibling-like relationship with his daughter?” Derek mused, surprised that he hadn’t heard of you before.
“What? No, “ Spencer flustered, “She was in private school when I started working with Dr. Y/L/N, she was only home for the summers.”
“Awwww, we have a princess on our hands,” Morgan assumed.
“If you know many princesses who speak four languages and can recited the Odyssey and Illiad from memory,” Spencer snipped at Derek under his breath. “But she was her father’s whole world, so in that way I suppose you are correct.”
Derek looked over at JJ and Prentiss, his eyebrows raised. The women stifled their laughter in their coffees. He decided to let this reunion pan out before prodding Reid for anymore details.
You strolled back to the precinct with a mountain of whipped cream in a cup, pretending to yourself that this sugary monstrosity was actually coffee. You couldn’t stomach the salad you had ordered for your afternoon meal, but you could stomach some comfort calories from the corner cafe. You knew the FBI was aiding in the investigation of your father’s murder, so you mentally prepared yourself for another battery of questioning.
Your cell chirped at you, it was Detective Chang, “Dr. Y/L/N,” you answered habitually.
“The FBI’s BAU is here, if we could go over it with you again, we really appreciate it.” The gruff man informed you.
“Of course, Detective, I will be right in,” You answered, closing your phone with a satisfactory snap. You sniff and pull your chin up, your professor face was on.
Spencer was squirrelly, he could not sit still. He had bumped into JJ, twice since entering the Pasadena precinct and spilled Prentiss’ coffee while rearranging files. Hotch was at a loss. Rossi and Morgan were in fits. Once the evidence photos were up, everyone grew more sober and focused on the details of the case. Professor Y/L/N was a world-renowned scholar, he had been published in numerous journals annually since receiving his doctorate. He was a widow and lived in a large home alone, but there was no signs of forced entry or robbery.
The reason the BAU had been called in was because he had received a suspicious letter a month prior to being killed. Dr. Olivia Madison, his research partner had told the Pasadena PD. That coupled with the international influence of the victim, they wanted to ensure they utilized every resource.
A knock on the borrowed office’s door, signaled Detective Chang, “The victim’s daughter is back, whenever you are ready.”
Hotch looked around. “Alright, Reid, I am going to let you in there, but Rossi is going to be there to keep you focused.”
Reid nodded, wiping his clammy hands on his trousers. “Got it, Hotch”.
Rossi held the door open for the young ball of nerves, making eye contact with Hotch a cross the room.
“Do you think that was a good idea, letting him into her questioning like that?” Prentiss asked Hotch brassily.
“Was there anyway I could have stopped him?” Hotch countered.
“Hotch, we have a meeting with the President of Cal Tech in ten minutes.” JJ informed the unit chief.
That left Morgan and Prentiss to establish a timeline, build a geographic profile and continue to question anyone in Y/L/N’s department.
You absentmindedly played with your hair, the room was so stuffy. You pictured frescoes on the stone walls instead of layers of primer and acrylic. The grating opening of the door spun you in your seat. Suddenly your jaw became unattached from your skull. Spencer Reid stood before you, all cheek bones and long legs.
“Sir Sir!” You sang, leaping to your feet to tackle the thin genius. He had grown since you had seen him last, he rocks with your embrace. “What are you doing here?” You demanded, pulling back from him, but keeping his sides in your hands, you barely felt his ribs through his layers of clothes.
“Well, actually, I am with the FBI.” Spencer cleared his throat. “How are you doing, Y/N/N?” His big heart pouring through his eyes.
You retreat slightly, knowing you are being observed by his partner and whomever was on the other side of the faux mirror. Nodding, “As good as can be expected.”
Rossi holds out his hand to you, “Miss, it is nice to meet you, I am SSA Rossi with the BAU.”
You look over at the older agent, shaking his hand firmly, “Actually, its Doctor.” In the corner of your eye you can see Spencer smirk.
“Well, of course, Doctor.” Rossi continues, sitting opposite you. “What can you tell us about your father’s house when you arrived this morning?”
It’s not easy to always choose love, is it? Especially in moments like these. It can be the most difficult thing to do. But love conquers fear and love conquers hate. And that love that you choose will give you strength.
Sin, guilt, neurosis; they are one and the same, the fruit of the tree of knowledge.
That Got Away: A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction: Part 5
Inspiration: Katy Perry’s Song “The One That Got Away”
Rating: Mature Setting: Season 4 Featuring: Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader
A/N: Thank you all for sticking around as the story progresses! Buckle your seat belts, it isn’t over yet… xoxo Stu (I don’t own any of the images/ characters/ lyrics) Warnings: A spot of sexy times, angst, it is rather long.
Derek was ready to get on with the case, the world moved so much more efficiently during a work week. He was out the door heading toward the elevators with thoughts of free breakfast when he spotted a manila envelope outside of Reid’s door. The large man bent down, noticing it was completely blank, not wanting to mess with potential evidence, he knocked on his teammate’s door.
There was a complete minute of silence before he knocked again, louder and longer. He didn’t think Reid was up and had missed the delivery, so he decided to try calling him. He could hear the ring on Spencer’s phone through the quiet hall. JJ appeared, heading down the corridor of BAU rooms from the elevators, coffee in hand. Her blue eyes watched Morgan as he waited for the doctor to pick up his phone already.
You were pleased to find out that Spencer had acquired more than one romp’s worth of protection. You woke up with his morning wood nestled against your backside and you couldn’t think of a good reason for that to go to waste, “When in Rome” and all that. So you began with gentle kisses, rolling Spencer on to his back, he wasn’t quite awake yet, his eyes pleasantly closed. His bedhead endearing as you reached passed his face for one of the remaining foil packages. The tearing sound was what got his attention from dreamland.
He mumbled something incoherently. “What’s that Sir-sir?” You whispered through a giggle. His brown eyes glanced at you sideways, which was hard to do because you were looking straight into them.
“Be nice,” Spencer teased, rubbing his eyes. “I’m already pretty sore, mon cher.” His croaking morning voice and sweet names made you want to be very nice, indeed. You slowly maneuvered atop the FBI agent’s long body. After securing the barrier, you licked your finger tips, preparing your waking body for the next round. Spencer moaned as he saw your fingers in your mouth, you blushed at his blatant lust.
As you slid down on to Spencer, your body shivered. You bent over to kiss his gasping mouth, slowing rocking into him. The first knock was easily ignored, it could have been for any of the surrounding rooms. Spencer’s large palms on your breasts, turned your attention back to the moment. His eyes flew open at the second assault on the door. You tilted your head, hoping your soulful look would distract him again. Spencer rose to a seated position, you adjusted, holding his head in your arms, he nuzzled your cleavage. His arms felt so secure around you, it was back to just the two of you…
Hello Dear! :) Where do you find your inspiration? Your poems are beautiful!! :) Greetings. Miss Perry
Hello there Miss Perry. Everything becomes an inspiration. From the things I see every time I open my eyes in the morning, to the feelings and dreams I keep every time I sleep at night. Thank you so much for asking. I hope you’re doing fine. 💓
A/N: I am so humbled by the amount of love the first part of this new Spencer x Reader story has received. I do not own any characters, lyrics or images. xoxo Stu
***Update: I wanted to apologize with the chronological error I originally made in a paragraph about Hotch. It had Haley and Jack in Witness Protection too soon. A genuine thank you to everyone for not being judgemental about it, it has been fixed! xoxo Stu***
Inspiration: Katy Perry’s ‘The One That Got Away’ and Darlin’ Companion sung by Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash
Setting: Season 4 Rating: Teen Warnings: Grief, Teen Angst, Bad Kissing
Spencer Reid had held Y/N until she had cried herself to sleep on the floor of her hotel room. He very carefully covered her half-naked form, cushioning her head with extra pillows from the bed they hadn’t made it to. He remained there, watching her sleep, the gentle rising of her back a hypnotic rhythm. Spencer did not want to leave her, but she needed more rest than he had time to give. He sat at the oddly placed desk, found the hotel stationary and prepared to write Y/N a confession.
Hotch had the hotel issue wake up calls for the BAU team at 6:30am. Spencer had made it back to his (much simpler) hotel room around two in the morning. The four hours of sleep left the doctor with an anxious stomach. After showering and dressing in a very typical Reid ensemble; he headed to the lobby. It was there he, naturally, bumped into Prentiss at the coffee cart.
“Morning Emily,” Spencer’s soft voice greeted the black haired beauty.
“Well, well, good morning, Reid,” Prentiss teased, feigning surprise in seeing him.
He remained patient, anticipating all the inevitable questions he would be fielding after leaving the team at the precinct to return Y/N’s luggage the previous night. His utter exhaustion was ensuring a shorter temper than was strictly professional.
“Late night?” Prentiss pressed after taking her coffee from the barista.
“You could say that,” Spencer nodded, his voice cracking. “How was your evening?”
“Mine?” Prentiss sighed, “Wild night. I took a bath and passed out to the hotel access channel.” She waxed sarcastically. “See you by the cars, Reid.”
Spencer placed his order, thanking the barista with a slight tilt to his head. He noticed Hotch near the entryway, speaking on his cell phone. Hotch was on edge with The Reaper in the wind. Spencer felt awful for him, knowing Hotch had lost his marriage to the job already. A tenuous situation was that much more paralyzing for someone like BAU chief Aaron Hotchner, someone who had to be in control.
The team assembled into the waiting SUVs and returned to Pasadena Police Department shortly after 7:30 am. The team dispersed into the previous decided assignments; Reid and Prentiss going through Y/L/N’s contacts and research. Just after 8 o’clock, a distinguished man in his fifties was escorted to the office the BAU had annexed for the case, by Detective Chang.
“Agents,” Chang announced,”This gentleman claims to be the guy who wrote the threatening letter sent to Dr. Y/L/N last month.”
“Who are you?” Emily Prentiss approached the new suspect.
“Byron Osbourne, ma’am,” the man nodded to the female agent with an English lilt to his voice. “I saw the press coverage footage this morning and knew I had to come forward before anything got out of hand.”
“Dr. Y/L/N is dead,” Spencer uncharacteristically spat at the man,”I would say we are passed out of hand.”
Agent Prentiss eyed Dr. Reid suspiciously. She then formally arrested and cuffed Mr. Osbourne. After reading his Miranda Rights, she passed him to the stocky lead detective who escorted him to interrogation room 1.
Spencer was quick to make the call to Quantico. “Garcia? We need background on one Byron Osbourne, a possible British national. He just voluntarily admitted to writing the suspicious letter Dr. Madison mentioned that Graham received nearly a month ago.”
“Good Morning, to you too, Boy Wonder,” Garcia grumbled. “I am all over this, but in the mean time… “How’s your reunion going?” The savvy analyst coyly pounced on the inexperienced doctor.
“I am going to hang up now,” Spencer responded testily, “And catch the unsub that killed my mentor.”
“But!” Garcia couldn’t use her vicious wit against a grumpy and determined Reid.
That Got Away: A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction Part 3
Inspiration: Katy Perry’s The One That Got Away Kings of Leon’s Use Somebody
Rating: Teen? Setting: Season 4 Featuring: Spencer x Reader
A/N: I needed a little more inspiration to keep the story rolling, sorry it took longer between parts 2 and 3. I love writing these flashbacks, hope you like reading them too! xoxo Stu
After your meeting with the lawyer was over, you headed over to the funeral home that your dad had indicated in the will. You weren’t sure when he had made his arrangements, but you were extremely grateful he had. The staunch mortician greeted you with a cool handshake, you sat down before the intimidating wooden desk. You knew you could have waited for this meeting until the following day, after meeting with the school, the groundskeepers, whomever you were going to have to coordinate with. You half-listened to your father’s wishes, realizing he had set this up years ago, probably not long after your mum had passed.
You thanked the man, rising to leave before was necessary. You headed to your rental car in the side parking lot. You sat in the driver’s seat and let the radio play:
I’ve been roaming around
Always looking down at all I see
Painted faces, fill the places I can’t reach
You know that I could use somebody
You cry into the steering wheel as the song fades and the D.J. drones on about traffic. After a commercial break you pull yourself out of your grief and pick up your phone.
“This is Dr. Reid.”
You sniffle into the phone, “Spencer?”
“Y/N/N?” Spencer paused. “How are you doing?”
“Frankly? Crappy.” You bark out a clipped laugh. “Listen, I didn’t read your letter, yet. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye and I know that’s what it was.”
Silence answers you. “I didn’t want to say it either,” Spencer finally acknowledged, “I could barely write it, Y/N.”
You rest your head back, cherishing his tortured voice on the other end of the line. “Spencer, I know you are working, but is there anyway?” You exhale, “Is there anyway we can forget the letter until after the funeral and after you get this bastard?”
“Y/N, do you think that is a good idea?” Spencer’s voice was calculated.
“There are no good ideas in my head right now,” You whisper to yourself more than to him, “I just know that being with you, now, is finishing something that I didn’t know needed an ending.”
“I will be here until the funeral, if not longer, Y/N,” Spencer sighed. “But I will be working up until we catch the unsub. I owe it to your dad.”
You nod, holding the tears back again. “Thanks, Sir-sir. For everything.”
“Don’t thank me until he’s in cuffs, Y/N.” Spencer retorted determinedly. “Call me if anything or anyone crosses your mind, alright?”
“You got it.”
Used to steal your parents’ liquor
And climb to the roof
Talk about our future
Like we had a clue
Never planned that one day
I’d be losing you
It had been a week since you and Spencer had kissed in your bedroom. You hadn’t seen him or heard from him. You were pretty sure you had lost a friend over trying to get some summer lovin’. You were also rational, this was something that happened a lot that summer. You were trying not to overthink things, Spencer was not like other guys; he would be back over on his bike in no time. You hoped.
Your dad was having a party for people from the school, celebrating a new building or renaming a building. You were not interested, therefore the specifics filtered through your memory. There were waiters and caterers and bartenders all over the house, the yard, the pool deck. You wore a white, Grecian style, backless dress, a present from your aunt for graduating last year. You had braided your hair so that the heat wouldn’t make it stick to your face. You felt like Helen of Troy, with all the compliments from your father’s colleagues. You made small talk with professors and the few students in attendance, like most events you were out of place.
After an hour of mingling, you found your dad, talking to some British guy about the tech revolution. There were a few other people in the circle, most you didn’t know. You did recognize Olivia Madison who was a newer graduate student, Dr. James from UCLA and ungainly standing with a wine glass in his hand was Spencer. He had worn his glasses and had a real tuxedo on. He visibly shook when you caught his eye. You were embarrassed and confused, but his reaction was uncalled for. You nudged your head toward the backdoor, he squinted at you.
“Dad, I am going to borrow Dr. Reid for a moment.” You said, interrupting the entire conversation flow.
“Oh, yes, alright, Y/N/N.” Your dad chuckled. “Don’t hurt him, sweetheart.” He teased as you tugged Spencer’s free arm. The crowd laughed at the unceremonious fleeing of the pair of teenagers.
“What do you want, Y/N?” Spencer stage whispered at you as you pulled him into the kitchen door. He was trying to be cavalier, since he was here as faculty and you were just some professor’s daughter. You were frustrated that he was acting this way, especially since it was just you and the waitstaff inside.
“What do I want?!” You practically shout, a mirthless laugh escaping your astonished face. “I want you to look at me and tell me why you haven’t called me, Spencer!”
so, i had this ideia while i was looking to the job of @allcapskaty on Twitter, btw every katycat should follow them, they’re great, 99% of the headers are inspired on them, i tried to do one but… all credits goes out to allcapskaty *i’m leaving the name of the songs below in case someone wants them*
like or @notkatysboat
Yellow (by Coldplay) x Not Like the Movies
Brick by Brick x Love Yourself (by Justin Bieber) >INSPIRATION<
Stressed Out (by Twenty One Pilots) x Thinking of You >INSPIRATION<