Spencer Reid: Oneshots

Masterpiece

Summary: Reader messes up the due date of her semester final in an art class and desperately needs a model to paint. Luckily, a painful encounter with a genius gives her exactly what she needs.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" You scrambled to slide your feet into your sneakers, your heels still coming out of the back. "Excuse me!" You brushed by crowds of people, all giving you puzzled looks as you ran by. Geez, never seen a girl covered in paint before?

"Y/N! Y/N!"

You stopped, turning around. "Oh hey, Nat!"

Your best friend looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow. "Uh what's going on here?"

You held up your hand, catching your breath. "I need to—" You inhaled. "—find someone to paint for my project that may or may not be due tomorrow morning."

"Y/N, you idiot."

"I know! I know!" You sighed, running your partially purple hand through your hair. "Could you do it..?"

"I love you, but I have work so...no."

"Fuck."

"I'm sure you'll find someone."

"You're like my only friend on campus today!"

"Well, good luck with that." Nat patted your shoulder, walking off.

"Ughhhh." You took off running again, your eyes scanning the mobs of students. I can barely order food, I can't ask a stranger to let me stare at and paint them. "Stupid, stupid, stu—HOLY FUCK!" A stack of books landed directly on your toes.

"Oh my god! Oh my god, are you okay?"

"No," you croaked, taking deep breaths.

"Shit, I am so sorry."

You shook your head. "I'm just dramatic, I'm good—ouch." The boy kneeled down, moving the books to the side. "You're sure those are books and not boulders?"

He chuckled. "They might be about as exciting as a rock."

"They make great weapons."

"Noted." He stood up, your eyes actually meeting his face for the first time.

"Damn."

"What?"

Fuck, I said that out loud. "Uh...damn, my foot hurts."

"I am so sorry, I should've watched where I was going—"

"In fairness, I was sprinting."

"That sort of contributed to it..."

You took his wrist, glancing at the watch. "Fuck."

"Is everything okay?"

You groaned. "Not really."

"What's wrong?"

"I need a model to paint for my semester final in art, and I thought it was due next Wednesday, but it's due tomorrow. I was running around to find one, but I can't really run around anymore."

The boy thought for a moment. "I could do it."

You looked up at him. "You?"

"I-I mean I feel bad for hurting you and—"

"No, no! You're perfect." You leaned closer to him, observing his features. The boy shifted slightly, a pink colour rising to his cheeks. "Are you busy now?"

"I just have to drop these off to Dr. Blake then I'm free."

"Cool! You're coming with me."

"Oh uh alright."