ADAPTATION {Spencer Reid x Reader} ||✔️

The First Murder

It happened fast. One minute I was on cloud nine with y/n, the coke steadily making us warmer inside. And the next they were on the ground. Dead. They as in the guys who thought grabbing my girl was an okay thing to do.

Y/N and I were just dancing, her back to my chest as we let the high take over. We were having fun. For the first time in my entire life, I felt free. Free to let go of the tortures of my mind. Free to just live.

The yelp from her and loss of her body heat made me look around for what had happened. I watched her stumble while being pulled by another guy. He was shorter than me but he defiantly weighed more than me. He gripped her bicep, pulling her into him. She looked back at me with pleading eyes, begging me to help her.

"Let me go!" She yelped as she tried to pull her arm free. But he gripped her tighter.

"Shhhh. Just dance with me baby. God, you're pretty." His hands were on her face and the rage built inside me. But I was frozen.

"I don't wanna dance with you! Spence!" Her calling me snapped me back into action.

"Get your fucking hands off my girl," the guy looked me up and down, sizing me up before chuckling loudly.

"Your girl? You don't own her. Let her live a little," my body grew hot at his fucking voice. Why was still struggling to get out of his grasp.

"I actually do own her. Let her fucking go. Now," and when he laughed in my face I lost all control. My fist connected with his jaw, causing him to stumble back and allowed y/n to get away. She hid behind me as the fucker came at me with fists raised. I ducked and he missed, practically falling on his face. But then his friends joined in and it was three against me. One grabbed me from behind, putting me in a headlock while the other moved to grab my girl.

"Don't fucking touch me!" She screamed. I wondered why no one was helping. Living in a society where everyone was conditioned to mind their own business wasn't helpful in moments like these. "Get off of him!" She lunged at the man who had his arms around my neck. My reflexes were slow and I struggled to get out of his hold. She was grabbed by the first fucker who started this.

"Your gun! Do it, y/n! Pull the trigger!"

And then... bang.

I watched him fall to the dirt, red leaking from the fresh wound in his side. The pressure around my neck easing as the others stepped away. I grabbed the weapon from her and pulled it on the other two and then we were running.

I needed to get her out of there. We needed to go. Her hand shook in mine as I pulled her behind me. Her legs doing their best to keep up with me. She'd killed someone. I knew what she was feeling, the high that no drug could ever possibly make. But we didn't have time to work through the emotions. And it wasn't until we were safely in the car that she lost it.

"I- I killed someone. I- that was s-someones..." she trailed off as I pulled onto the street, forcing us to head back south. I figured we could probably sneak into Mexico. I'd done it once before.

"He was a dirt bag, baby. You're okay." Her entire body was shaking but she wasn't crying. I couldn't contain the smile on my face at the imagine of those fuckers blood seeping from their skulls. They deserved this. And the fact that my girl was the one who pulled the trigger first? So fucking hot.

"Why did you make me do that!" She yelled. I merged onto the highway, following the signs for 'south'.

"I didn't make you do anything, little one. You were the one who pulled the trigger." Because she did. She could've told me no. She could've told me to leave it alone. But then where would we be? She'd probably be dead behind a dumpster and I'd be to blame. They were better off dead.

"You told me to shoot them! You told me to pull the trigger, Spencer!" I rolled my eyes.

"Mhm. And you have a voice." She said nothing. "Look, you don't know what they would've done to you if you didn't. But I did." I sighed as the thoughts flashed in my head. "I told you I'd never make you use it unless I couldn't protect you. That was one of those moments. You did good." My hand moved to touch her cheek.

"I- I did good?" Her eyes sparkled as she looked at me.

I think that was the moment when I knew I'd had her. When I knew that she wasn't going to run away. She was mine and she would do what I said so long as I told her I was proud of her. A glutton for praise. A glutton for me.

I ran my thumb over her bottom lip, "very good, my pet. M so proud of you." Because I was.

She sucked my thumb into her mouth, her tongue swirling around it before I pulled it out with a soft 'pop'. My body was practically vibrating. Between the rush of the kill, the fix of the blood lust, and her? I was a goner. I shifted as my pants grew tighter, my hand resting on her leg.

I could feel the shaking that hadn't stopped under my fingers. Usually with the first kill, a person can feel a rush of feel good chemicals. It's a high that most will never achieve again. And it can cause shaking and tremors. She needed an outlet. She needed to redirect the fire in her veins somewhere else. And I knew exactly where she could redirect it too.

I pulled off into a secluded parking lot. It was practically empty aside from a few cars here and there. She looked at me confused as I put the car in park and cut the engine.

"What are you doing? Don't we have to leave?" I shrugged. I did the math in my head and knew she wasn't high anymore. And if she was, it wouldn't be strong enough to completely alter her ability to make decisions.

"Get in the back seat, baby." I climbed over the center console, folding myself until I was in the backseat. "Come on, pup. Let me love you."