#HIS FACE HAUNTS ME WHYYYYYYYYYY
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galewindstudios · 10 months ago
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gale i did not lie about that ship art with you and that pot😁 Enjoy!!!
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H-Hi there 👋👋👋👁️👁️
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alovesongtheywrote · 1 year ago
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WHYYYYYYYYYY
♥ Summary:  I'M SO SORRY. in this chapter of nightmare academia, spencer gets what he deserves and then some. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]
♥ Warnings: the reader is VERY mean to spencer- i mean, he definitely deserves some of it but oh my god, the reader is almost homicidal. mentions of maeve, a side character's shitty ex is following them, sadness, anger, angst
♥ A/N: i just want to point out, i think the reader was in the right with their argument in the last chapter. anyway, fun fact- some of the Fun Names the reader calls reid are references to the tin can bros production, "the solve it squad." neat :D
♥ Word Count: 3812, a few dozen of which came from @mxcheese
Series Masterlist
♥♥♥
Spencer felt like absolute shit- and he should have.  He’d been a massive fucking dick to you and for what?  He'd taken the objectively wrong side in that argument, and for what? To protect himself from future grief?  To protect himself from the guilt of moving on from Maeve?  He’d succeeded.  He’d driven you away.  Maybe that was for the best, but god did it not feel worth it.
He’d hurt you.  He’d done it on purpose.  He’d gone for your insecurities, for the things he knew would hurt you the most.  He tore at your weak spots like a feral dog, and he regretted it the moment the words left his mouth.
He watched you drive away.  He watched as your car got smaller and smaller until he couldn’t see it anymore.  Then, he buried his face in his hands and tried not to scream.  He stood out there in the cold on the side of the street until Morgan came to get him.
Morgan didn’t ask what had happened.  He already knew Reid had done something stupid.
“My advice, kid?” Morgan said as he dropped Reid off later that evening, “Call them.  Apologize to them.  Solve whatever issues you have, because someone like that doesn’t come around every day.”
Spencer sighed, “Look, I know you want me to sleep with them, or whatever, but that isn't going to happen.  It was never going to happen.”
“This isn’t about sleeping with them.  This is about being a good person.  I’ll see you around, kid.”
Like that, Morgan was gone, and Reid was alone.  He didn’t call you.  He didn’t apologize.  He just curled up in his bed and let himself decompose.  He told himself he was giving you space.  He was letting you process things.  Really, he was letting his own guilt swallow him.  He was drowning in bedsheets and sorrow, and he didn’t care about coming up for air.
When he went into work on Monday, you were nowhere to be found.  This was normal.  You didn’t hold any classes on Mondays.  Still, you had left things behind for him before- missing mugs, cans of creamed spinach, locks on all his cabinet doors.  That Monday, there was nothing.  There were no traces of you left behind.  You were haunting him.
He stopped by your office.  Obviously, you weren’t there.  The door was locked tight.  Reid still found himself trying to open it, trying to get into the small room that held so many parts of you inside of it.  You were haunting it.  You were haunting him.  
When he returned to his own office, he knocked his copy of Pride and Prejudice off the shelf.  He’d annotated it, reading it along with the articles you’d written on the topic.  He loved the way your mind worked.  He loved a lot of things about you.  And what had he done?  He’d hurt you.  On purpose.  And now, you were fucking haunting him.
And by the time his final class rolled around, Reid had resolved to do something about it.
-
You, on the other hand, were doing pretty good.  True, you had sobbed your eyes out as you’d pulled away from the bar.  The second Reid was out of sight, you had actually pulled over, deciding it wasn’t safe enough for you to drive in your emotionally volatile state.
You didn’t want to be upset about it.  You weren’t upset about what you had said.  You were right.  Kate Callahan had made some majorly fucked up jokes.  You had every goddamned right to be mad about that.
You also had every right to be pissed at what Reid said to you.  He had been so incredibly cruel, hitting you where he knew it would hurt most.  He’d called out your deepest insecurities.  He’d called you stupid, told you you were right to be insecure, and insulted your academic work in the span of five minutes.  You had every reason to hit the motherfucker with your car.
So why were you crying?  
Once you’d calmed yourself down enough to drive again, you headed straight to the nearest convenience store.  You had wine at home, and you weren’t going back to your apartment until you had enough ice cream on hand to kill a man.  
Maybe that’s what you would do.  Fuck pranks, you would just murder Reid by way of ice cream.  You weren’t sure how you would do that, but you wanted to.
You spent the rest of your night the way most people in your situation would- getting wine drunk, consuming ice cream, and watching terrible movies until you fell asleep.  Honestly, it wasn’t the worst way to spend an evening.  By the end of it, you felt significantly less shitty- you still felt stupid.  You would probably always feel stupid now that someone had looked at your deepest insecurities and confirmed them.  You felt better, though.  That was all you could ask for.
The next morning, you took some aspirin and threw yourself into your volunteer work- GEDs baby, GEDs all around.  While you wouldn’t teach in person until Monday, the weekend gave you ample time to answer emails from students, look over papers, and provide support to your students.  
Really, the job wasn’t too difficult.  You always got strange looks when you told people that you tutored former inmates out of the community center.  Honestly, it wasn’t that big a deal.  You just helped people learn in ways that actually worked for them.  Some people were visual learners, some were auditory learners.  Some preferred to analyze James Baldwin over Jane Austin, and others learned better when you described the plot of Pride and Prejudice as if it were a personal drama.  People really took to it when you called Darcy a pretty boy asshole with a secret heart of gold.  
By the end of your time with them, most of your students were ready to get their GEDs.  Those who weren’t came back to you for more help.  In other words, you were a good fucking teacher, even if you couldn’t see it.  
When Monday finally rolled around, you were ready to go.  You spent the day helping people achieve their full potential, watching people find new understandings of both themselves and their work.  You were happy.  You were content.  And Reid hadn’t called.  
You tried your best not to care.  He was a former Fed who thought he was in the right.  You shouldn’t care about him.  Still, it was a difficult task to pretend you weren’t a tiny bit hurt that he hadn’t reached out to talk to you.
And it was a task that became much easier when two of your former students popped in that evening, massive grins plastered across their faces.
“Hey, Dr. (L/N), guess who got GED-ed!!”
-
The community center was an older building, still suffering from the pink coat of paint the government had smothered it with in the 90s.  Since then, an update to the plumbing had been the only other remodelling the place had seen.
Spencer thought it was incredibly fitting that you spent your time off there.  Of course you spent your time off in a run-down community center helping people learn things.  You were awfully passionate about that.
He stood outside the building, in the parking lot, leaning against his car.  The sun had just slipped beyond the horizon, leaving the sky a dark blue before true darkness set in.  The lights from the building before him danced off the wet pavement.
Honestly, Spencer felt a little bit like a creep, watching people come and go.  He was trying to build up the courage to go and face you.  He would need it.  He knew there was no chance that you would see his face and instantly forgive him.  Honestly, it was more likely that you would throw something at him, and he would take it, because he fucked up and that’s what he deserved.
Spencer steeled himself, finally taking a step towards the community center when he felt something.  Someone was watching him.  He knew that feeling- the distorted tingling sensation of eyes on him.  He looked around.  The voyeur had to be around somewhere. 
He was right.  A few parking spots away, in a new-looking white car with a small dent near the passenger’s side door, a man sat staring at him.  Reid locked eyes with the guy, staring at him until finally, the man in the car turned the key in the ignition.  He didn’t break eye contact until he absolutely had to.
Spencer was thoroughly unsettled.
Oh well.  He had a job to do, and that job was apologizing to you.  (Besides, if this boy was capable of listening to his instincts, he wouldn’t have been kidnapped that one time.  He also wouldn’t have broken your heart.  Reid gets too much credit for being smart, I’m not gonna lie.)
He crossed the parking lot in a few strides and pushed open the doors.  The woman at the front desk had a smile on her face, and when he asked for you, she pointed him in your direction without question.
The lights in the hallway were fluorescent.  He wondered if you hated them.  He wondered if you brought lamps to whatever room you worked in.  It would sound crazy if it was anyone else, but you had sent a typewriter to his classes until he let his students use laptops.  You absolutely could take a lamp to your classes.  With you, Spencer didn’t know what to expect.
The door to your classroom was open.  He could see you smiling, a plastic cup in your hand.  You were talking to someone.  Your smile met your eyes.  
“Seriously, this is fucking amazing and I’m so proud of you both.  You should be proud of yourselves!”
Someone laughed, a woman, “Look at us.  Official accomplishments on official paper.  The last time I had one of those, I was getting out of prison.”
“The last time you had what, an accomplishment?” Another voice- a man’s voice- asked.
“No.  An official paper with my name on it.  Y’know, I’m pretty sure some of those prison dudes thought my name was fake.  Every time they had to read my full name, they would say it out loud- what’s so weird about Missy Marie?”
“Literally nothing.  Your name is excellent.  Don’t take it personally, prison guards are just like that.  I have beef with most of the guards I’ve met, I’ll be honest,” you gestured with your cup.
“I can’t imagine why,” the man replied.  Spencer could hear the guy’s smile in his voice.  He could see the smile on yours as you playfully smacked someone in the room.
“It’s because they suck!  It’s fine, though.  One day, they’ll have to call you Dr. Missy Marie.  Then they’ll be sorry.”
“Doc, do you know how much I’d have to pay to become a doctor?  I’m not interested in worrying about student loans for the rest of my life.”
“Fair enough- you could do it, though.  You’re a hard worker, you’re smart, and you have a brain for analysis.  And hey, most places have scholarships, awards, bursaries- I have a list of them if you ever want to look into it.”
The woman paused.  When she spoke again, her voice was a little quieter, but still confident, “I’ll think about it.”
A smile split across your face, blinding and bright, “Excellent.”
You were clearly at a high point- enjoying your night with your students, your friends.  Realization struck Spencer like lighting.  He never should have come here.  He should leave you alone- you were doing fine.  You didn’t need his apology right now.  You didn’t need the foul memory of what he’d said to you disrupting your evening.
He took a step back- and of course, you heard him, looked up, and scowled.  Your smile dropped from your face so fast, Spencer almost wondered if he had imagined it.
“(L/N), is everything okay?” the man asked.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, Frank.  It’s just that fucking Fed.”
“Shit, the Feds are here!?”
“No, no, just that professor I told you about.”
“Ah.  That professor.”
You rolled your eyes and stood, placing your cup on the desk behind you and heading towards the door- towards Spencer.
“I’ll be right back.  Sit tight, guys.”
You shut the door behind you.  Then, you turned to face Spencer.
He didn’t know what to say.  You had never looked at him like this before- with such contempt.  Sure, you didn’t like him.  You didn’t like him for most of the time you’d known him.  But you’d never looked at him like he was a waste of space, a waste of your time.
“Just where do you get off?” you asked, voice low and heavy with rage, “You couldn’t wait until I came back to work to insult me?  You just had to come to my other job?  Well, go for it asshole.  I’m here.  Do your worst.”
Spencer remained silent, his lips parted slightly as he stared at you.  There was something broken in his expression, and even though he didn’t intend to do it, the motherfucker was hitting you with puppy-dog eyes.  
You wanted to smack those eyes right out of his fucking skull.  You were a little worried, during your ice cream and alcohol binge, that you would cry again upon seeing Reid’s face.  You were worried that you would see his pretty boy face and fold like something that folds easily.  You were terrified that you would just forgive him even though he didn’t deserve to be forgiven.
Clearly, that didn’t happen.
“I- I’m sorry,” he stuttered out.  You were unmoved.  Fucker couldn’t even apologize to you without tripping over his words.
“Fuck your sorry.  Get the fuck out of my classroom.”
“We’re not-” Reid cut himself off, “Look, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I want you to know that I was wrong.  I made a mistake, and I’m sorry.  You didn’t deserve that- any of it, and you were right.”
You glared at him for a second.  He was correct about a few things- he didn’t deserve your forgiveness.  He was in the wrong, you were right, and you didn’t deserve anything he said to you that night.
You still wanted to smack him.
So you did.
You smacked his arm with the sleeve of your sweater.  Then you smacked him with the other sleeve of your sweater.  He didn’t even raise a hand to defend himself, it was kinda pathetic.
“Fuck you,” you said with a smack, “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, go die.”
“Yeah, that’s fair,” he whispered, keeping his voice so quiet that only you could hear him- and he had the AUDACITY to sound somewhat affectionate.  He was staring down with a look, one that would have told you he cared if you didn’t know better.  But you did.  You knew better, and Reid didn’t care about you.  Fucker.
“No.  No, Reid, what’s fair is me saying you’re a sad little fuck who went right for my deepest insecurities without a second thought like a damn child.  What’s fair is me calling you out for using your psychoanalytical bullshit to keep others away.  Like you’re scared of getting close to people.  What do you think is gonna happen, Reid?  Do you think people will stay, even if you treat them like garbage?”
He parted his lips to answer, but you didn’t give him a fraction of a chance.
“What’s fair is me informing you that they won’t.  When you treat people like garbage, they leave, and then you die alone, and what’s fair is me asking you to go die in a ditch so I never have to see your stupid fucking face again.”
That motherfucker looked so hurt and so guilty and you kind of wondered if you took it too far at the end there.  You carried on as if you weren’t wondering that, as if you didn’t feel bad about the kicked-puppy expression on his face.
“What’s fair is me telling you any of that shit.  But I won’t.  Because even though I’m just a stupid academic, I’m still a better person than you.”
You half expected him to fight you on it.  You expected him to protest, or correct your grammar, or do something stupid.  He didn’t.  He just nodded in understanding, like he agreed with you.  He looked at the floor, presumably in shame, and he said nothing.
You stood there, in that hallway illuminated by those terrible fucking fluorescents.  The buzz of those goddamned lights filled the air, mixing with the sound of your breathing.  You wondered if Reid could hear your heartbeat from where he stood.  You decided you didn’t care.
The silence grew to be too much.  Your throat was full of unspoken insults.  Your skin cackled with the electricity of everything you wanted to say- with everything you wanted to do.  
“Do you have anything else to say to me?”
Reid flinched at the sound of your voice.  He wouldn’t look you in the eye, not that you tried to make him.  He started to respond when Sheryl, the community center receptionist, came rushing down the hall.
“Dr. (L/N)- I think that white car is back.”
Immediately your expression shifted from one of anger to one of fear.  You were worried, and if you were worried, then Reid was worried.
“Fuck-” you took a step towards the woman from the front desk, “Is it him?”
“I didn’t see the plate number.”
You sucked in a breath through your teeth.
“Is it a newer model?  Dent in the passenger side door?”  Spencer asked.  When Sheryl nodded, Spencer repeated the entire plate number.
You looked at him with a mixture of confusion and contempt, but you didn’t waste any time on him.  
“Shit,” you growled, turning quickly to open the door, “Missy, do you have anyone to walk you back to your car?”
“We took the bus-”
“Cool.  You aren’t taking the bus home, I’ll give you a ride.  I’ll give you both rides.”
“What’s going on, doc?”
You sighed, hands flexing and curling to fists at your sides, “Jason’s outside.”
“Shit.”
“What’s going on?” Reid asked, his brows furrowed as his voice filled with concern, “Do you need help?”
“It’s none of your business, Reid.”
The door opened behind you, and Reid finally got a look at the people you’d been talking to.  The woman, Missy, was on the skinny side with light brown skin and long black hair.  The man behind her, Frank, was big and bulky- in other words, he had muscles for days.  His dark hair had been cropped short, but he was clearly working on growing it out.  Both Missy and Frank looked at Reid with a mix of curiosity and disappointment.
“That’s him, doc?”
You looked between Missy and Reid quickly- when you spoke, your words came even faster, “Yeah.  That’s him, that’s the shit-licking asshole Fed.”
Sheryl covered her mouth with her hand, muffling her gasp at your apparent audacity.
“Sorry,” you apologized, though the apology was clearly addressed to Sheryl and not to Reid, “That’s the fucking Fed.”
Reid shook off the insult.  Missy and Frank both frowned.  The former leaned towards you, whispering in your ear (though Reid could still hear her.)
“That’s not what you said last week.”
You rolled your eyes and gestured at the hallway, towards the exit, “Come on, guys.  Let’s go.”
“(Y/N), if someone on the property is a threat to you-”
You turned on him, eyes flashing as your lips curled into a sneer, “If you tell me to call the fucking cops, I swear to god.”
Reid paused, trying to pretend he wasn’t about to suggest that exact thing, “I- I was going to ask if I could walk you out.”
Frank looked unimpressed, unsure if Reid could actually do anything against a threat.  Missy seemed more sure of his skills.  You wanted Reid to fuck off.
“I have a taser.”  
Missy leaned forward towards you.  She nudged your arm and whispered, “Hey, safety in numbers.”  Again, her voice was loud enough for Reid to hear.
You sighed, shutting your eyes and groaning out a, “Fine.  He can come.”
Missy smiled at Reid, and he gave her one of those awkward closed-lip grins in return.  You were not charmed by this, but Missy was- at least a little bit.
You headed down the hallway, not stopping to wait for the others until you got to the front door.  When you looked out into the parking lot, you couldn’t see Jason’s car.  That didn’t mean he wasn’t waiting out there.  
You nodded at Sheryl as she returned to the front desk before looking back at the group.  Missy had tucked herself between Reid and Frank- and you couldn’t blame her, honestly.  Her asshole ex was out there, and Frank was buff as hell, and Reid was, at the very least, tall.  You couldn’t stand Reid right now, but you knew, at the very least, that he would try to keep Missy safe.
The trip to your car was uneventful.  Missy and Frank slid into the back seat.  You and Reid were left standing outside the vehicle, exposed and in the open.
You didn’t look at each other.  As you reached for the door handle, Reid stopped you, opening his stupid mouth again.
“I’m sorry.”
You kept your eyes on the car, “I know.”
“I was wrong.”
“I know.”
He paused.  Silence fell.  You coughed.
“Can I have my mugs back?”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Okay.”
Missy pushed open her car door.  She said nothing, but she did give you a pointed look.  You visibly sighed, slumping over the driver’s side door until your chin could rest on the roof.
“Fine,” you hissed, “Come to my office if you want them back.  End of the day.  Don’t come a minute sooner or I’ll stab you to death with mug shards.”
“Understood.”
“Good.”
You pulled over your car door.  He told you to drive safely.  You wanted to drive over him.  You didn’t.  You drove out of the parking lot and down the street in silence.
Behind you, Frank let out a long, slow whistle.
“So,” Missy tapped her fingers against the window, “Your attitude towards him changed.”
“Did it?  I didn’t notice.”
“It did, doc,” Frank picked up where Missy left off, “Last week you liked him.”
“I did not like him.  I despised him.”
“No, you despise him now.  Last week you were trying to get his attention.”
“I was not!” your cheeks caught fire, “If I wanted his attention I would have it.”
“Doc,” Missy laughed, “You do have his attention.”
And she wasn’t wrong.  You certainly had the attention of one Spencer Reid.
♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts, @morgthemagpie
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