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spencersawkward · 3 years

Note

if you feel comfortable with it, I’d love a prof Spence where reader is a student and goes to office hours to initiate ~smutty goodness~ but Spencer is reluctant at first bc his job but they flirt more and eventually sleep together

me n my professor kink when i saw this: 😏 anyway yes i am quite comfortable writing about this lol. i took some ✨creative liberties✨ with your request so i'm sorry if it isn't exactly what you wanted!

summary: reader is a student in Dr. Reid’s class, but she’s been something of a poor student-- office hours are the only solution.

relationship: Fem!Reader/Professor!Spencer

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, rough sex, super brief hair-pulling, creampie, dirty talk, spanking, age gap, degradation-- he gets pretty dominant oops.

word count: 4.5k

masterlist

popping in a piece of gum, I make my way to the back of the hall. there are a few people here already, but it's a little early. I'm never early. in fact, I'm usually late; my other class is on the other side of campus, and getting here involves a lot of embarrassing speed-walking.

but here I am, five minutes ahead of schedule and actually in a decent seat. as I flip open my textbook and pull my laptop out of my bag to prepare to take notes, my gaze slides down to the corner of the room, where Dr. Reid is standing up with a pile of papers. he walks over to the girl in the front row, handing her the stack and gesturing for her to pass it along.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. he's a total luddite. the first day, Dr. Reid spent about ten minutes rambling about the importance of reading from a physical book rather than online sources-- which, although I definitely agree with, means a lot more lugging around folders and organizing all the readings he gives out. if he wasn't so hot, I would have switched into another course.

and I know it's wrong to be daydreaming about my professor slamming me into a wall while he discusses the intricacies of quantum theory. the complete cliché of it is embarrassing. but still, I just can't stop thinking about him: how his fingers would feel around my throat, the smooth wooden surface of his desk against my cheek as he bends me over and pulls my panties to the side--

"glad to see you've decided to join us, today, Ms. Y/L/N." Dr. Reid's voice startles me out of my thoughts. he's standing towards the front of the room while students file in. his hands are resting in his pockets with his eyebrows pleasantly raised.

"glad to see you've noticed." I retort, too irritated with his comment to care about being polite.

a couple people look at me. even though I'm generally not on time, he tends to just glance my way when I walk in and leaves it at that. I know he doesn't like it, although I personally don't care. I hate this course.

he seems visibly surprised by my response but doesn't reply, gaze lingering on mine before he turns to speak to a student trying to get his attention. I bite back a smile. fucking asshole.

as usual, Dr. Reid writes in his thin, messy lettering on the board while wandering around the front of the room. he's quite fidgety, even though his voice doesn't betray any sort of nervousness. it's like he's naturally overactive.

every word out of his mouth is enunciated, sometimes spoken faster when he gets particularly impassioned by the subject. he's interesting to look at, too. messy curls and a nice suit, stubble that straddles the line between refinement and ruggedness.

I type quickly, but it isn't fast enough and the strange illustrations he does on the board only complicate things. I try to write them down in my notebook, but my handwriting is jagged; sometimes it's hard to read. when a student raises her hand for a clarification, I take the opportunity to catch up.

my head jerks up as soon as I'm finished and he's looking at me while he speaks. even from so many feet away, the intensity strikes me. he's gesticulating and crossing the room. I hold eye contact.

I wonder if he dates often; a couple of the girls in my row always stare at him throughout the lectures. he seems to be completely unaware of the effect he has on people. sometimes I'll see him in the hallway and he has his nose buried in a book, or a to-go cup of coffee, or both. either way, there seems to be no more room in that head of his for romance.

which, naturally, makes me curious about how he looks when he's on the edge of orgasm. if that composure is replaced with a contorted pleasure. I want to break him.

it's like he can read my thoughts, because Dr. Reid averts his gaze. my stomach twists with a strange anticipation. he avoids looking my way for the rest of the time.

towards the end of class, I start to pack my things to go. I have three papers to write, and my utter lack of interest in this is making me eager to leave. I shove my textbook into my bag the second my professor starts to make closing remarks.

"don't forget that we have a midterm in two weeks!" he says in a slightly louder voice as people start to move around. "if you have any questions, my office hours are posted on the bulletin board outside."

at this, my eyebrows rise. I forgot about the midterm. I have a study calendar set up for all my subjects, but I've purposefully been putting this one off. I'm not super into math. and it doesn't help that most of my time is spent not listening. when I am, it doesn't make sense.

as I stand up and gather my stuff, I hear someone clearing their throat a couple feet away. my head turns to see Dr. Reid leaning against his desk.

"Ms. Y/L/N, can I see you for a second?"

my heart stutters in my chest. is this about my attitude? he's never asked to see me outside of lessons before.

I frown, making my way to him with a deliberate pace. the tension in the room builds as I watch the last of his students shuffle out of the room. my head turns from the door to him; my breath catches a little in my throat at the set of his jaw. part of me hopes I get yelled at.

"I'm concerned about your participation in this class." he says. his voice isn't cruel, but it is brutally honest— which is worse. participation? I feel my fist clench at my side. my professors don't usually say anything if you aren't doing things up to their expectations; if you aren't, then they give you a bad grade. simple as that.

"is this about me being late?" I ask. he lets out a sigh before answering. he sounds disappointed.

"you're constantly tardy, and when you hand in your homework, you barely seem to have put in the effort. it's messy."

"messy?" I start to get annoyed. I'm only doing this so that I can get my degree. it's a fucking requirement. even though I'm not the biggest fan of mathematics, I still do my best and hand in my assignments on time. plus, the latest I arrive is five minutes-- it's not like I'm stumbling in halfway through the lesson.

"you've never come to office hours to ask for help or explained your lateness, which I, as your professor, would have appreciated." he scolds. honestly, I don't know what to say. my eyes narrow.

"I have my studio class on the other side of campus." I explain. "I should have emailed about that and I'm sorry, but I'm also not being lax about my work."

he goes around to the other side of his desk and glances up at me while he organizes some loose documents to pack away. he looks way too good when he's exasperated: his hands tighten around the papers, his eyebrows come together in this cute way. his tie is a little crooked, too.

"are you struggling with the content?"

"sometimes, yeah. but I can handle reaching out for help if I need it." I reply. he's pissing me off with these questions. I can see from the expression on his face that he's surprised by my reaction.

"really?" he slides some books into his messenger bag. that was definitely sarcastic; I know it was. "because it doesn't really seem like you have."

"I like to find help on my own." I shoulder my bag and cross my arms over my chest. there's no way he's gonna talk to me like that and expect me to not respond in kind.

"I'm reserving a slot on Wednesday evening for you," he looks up and holds my gaze. hazel irises that dare me to challenge him further. "I want you in office hours so that we can figure out how you're gonna catch up before the midterm."

"fine." I turn on my heel and leave. I know I'm not supposed to talk to my professor like that, or even to behave with such apprehension. but something about him makes me angry in the kind of way that settles in my stomach. I hate that he's right. I'm not going to do well on that damn test if I don't get some help.

but that doesn't mean I can't have some fun with it.

when I rush into his office on Wednesday evening, the sun is just starting to set through his window. there's a pinkish glow that smooths over Dr. Reid's desk as he glances up at me. I had to run to get here.

"you're late." he nods to the clock on the wall. I roll my eyes.

"only one minute, though. I had another class."

he sighs and folds his hands on his desk. "how are you doing today, Ms. Y/L/N?" a strangely polite question for the look on his face. he's frustrated with me.

"I'm quite well, Dr. Reid." I smile brightly, slightly excited by the anger on his face, and sit at the chair in front of his desk.

"I didn't know you were interested in art." he says simply. I'm confused for a moment before I remember that I told him that the course before his is a studio lesson.

"I didn't know you cared."

"do you make a habit of that?" he quirks an eyebrow.

"of what?" my expression is saccharine.

"being rude to people who control your grades."

"unless you're considering being unethical in your practices and allowing your personal opinion of me to influence my grade, then no." I counter. he's silent for a moment, taking in my words like they've left a mark on him.

"well, you'd most likely fail if I asked you to leave my office hours right now. whose fault would that be?" he fidgets with his hands and leans forward just a bit, his voice dropping to a lower tone. I bite back a smile.

"you wouldn't."

"and why is that?" he baits.

"because you're not a shitty professor, Dr. Reid," I lean back in my chair and cross my legs. "as angry as you are, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you kicked me— a struggling student— out of here for giving you a little attitude."

"a little attitude?" he scoffs. "you've spent the whole semester completely ambivalent."

"not completely." I shrug.

"Y/N, you draw all over your tests and leave at least one problem half-finished every time. you obviously aren't learning." he chuckles mirthlessly. I concede this point; I like to doodle when I'm bored. and there's absolutely nothing more boring to me than numbers.

"okay," I sit up and rest my elbows on the edge of his desk, staring at him. "then teach me."

Dr. Reid holds my gaze for a long moment. we're suspended, it seems, as his lips part and he finds himself speechless. the way I said the words obviously has another layer to it-- he just has to decide whether or not to take the bait.

"what are you struggling with?" he clears his throat and sits up a bit straighter in his seat. that answers my question, I guess. I poke my tongue between my teeth gently, but then pull out my notebook and flip it to a page with some problems outlined on it.

"these." I toss the thing onto his side and he begins to run through the assignment. I watch him pick up a pen and start to explain the steps, slipping into his usual educational tone. his shoulders relax a little as he writes.

I can't see right from the angle I'm at, so I stand and come around onto his side. I hear him pause his speaking for a moment at my proximity, but he doesn't move away.

"does that make sense?" he asks me once he's finished running through the first problem. he basically did all the work. the professor's head turns to gauge my reaction to the explanation, but his eye line is right at the hem of my skirt-- which is already pretty short. for all his attempts to be subtle, he gulps and looks up at me.

"mostly." I brush a piece of hair behind my ear and pretend to scratch at a spot on my upper thigh, dragging the edge of my skirt with it until he can see the smooth skin beneath, practically begging for his touch. "can I ask you a question?"

"sure." he keeps his eyes almost too focused on mine. I try to hide the smile tugging at my lips. now or never, I guess.

"what's your policy on professor/student relationships?"

"my-- my what?" this time, he's audibly scattered when he turns to me. his eyes are wide, dark. even he can't hide his feelings.

"you know," I run my fingertips over the tweed shoulder of his jacket. I can sense the tension beneath his clothes. "like, your policy on fucking a student."

"I--" his cheeks turn pink. he's flustered, albeit not rejecting my touch. "I've never had to think about it before."

"hmm," I look off to the side as if considering this point. his chair is fully turned to face me now, and I'm standing in front of him, almost completely his for the taking. all he has to do is close the gap. "well, what are you thinking about it right now?"

"it's wrong." he stumbles over the words.

"why?"

"well, I mean, you're a student--"

"for a semester that's almost over." I cut him off. he opens and closes his mouth. I take a deep breath, toying with the hem of my skirt. "I know you've been looking at me during class."

"w-what?"

"you're pretty good at hiding it, but you call on me a lot and you get all messed up when I hold eye contact too long during lectures." I say.

he looks down and back up apologetically. he's just sitting there, lap wide open. so I do what any sane girl in my position would do: I climb into it, straddling him and resting my arms around his neck. he sucks in a breath.

"you pretend I'm such a pain," I lean down by his ear, my core drawing over his pants. he tenses as I speak. "but you like that I'm your little problem."

"Y/N..." he trails off, but his hips are bucking up into mine.

"see?" I look between our bodies at his movements, then at him. I smirk as I look into those lust-darkened eyes. after a moment of him not speaking, I straighten. "look, I'll leave you alone if it really bothers you--"

as I start to get off his lap, he grabs me and pulls me back down. the force hits my center at just the right angle and I let out a slight mewl. he hears the sound and before I can register the pleasure, he grabs my face and yanks me closer to kiss him.

god, he feels so good. I rock my hips against his while our lips pass over each other hungrily. so much tension built up over the past few months, so many thoughts I've had of him, now coming to fruition. it's amazing.

"not so 'wrong' now, is it?" I chuckle against his mouth.

"shut up." he orders. one moment of broken contact to slide my top over my head and throw it on the floor.

I sigh as he starts to kiss across my jaw and down my throat. "I like when you talk like that, Dr. Reid."

one hand grips my hips tighter and he releases a groan against my skin.

"is that why you're such a fucking brat in my class?" he bites my collarbone and I moan. "because you want me to put you in your place?"

"mhmm." I hum. his fingertips move under my skirt, sliding up my thighs and toying with the waistband of my panties. he teases me by grazing my slit over the fabric, inhaling sharply at the wet patch.

"sitting in the back of my room, fucking dripping..." he mumbles to himself as he starts to rub me.

"touch me." I breathe out, trying to gain the friction that I need.

"not if you're gonna be a brat." he removes his hand and I let out a frustrated noise as I try to find the pressure I need elsewhere by grinding down on him. he grunts at the way I pant into his mouth, trying to kiss him with every chance I get. his lips are so smooth and sweet against mine. there's something affectionate about it even in its ferocity.

"I'll be good." I practically beg.

"that's what I thought." he slides his tongue over his bottom lip as he watches me whimper on top of him.

"come on, Spencer..." I use the name for the first time and he grabs my face in his hand, squeezing my cheeks.

"not my name, sweetheart." he stares into my eyes expectantly and I smirk.

"you're fucked up, doctor."

"so are you."

after he says that, he lifts me off his lap and stands up, pushing between my shoulder blades until my face is pressed onto the desk. I let out a needy whine, wiggle my ass back in hopes of finding his crotch, but he's not willing to give me that, yet.

instead, he gently touches my skirt, flipping it up so that he can see my ass. immediately, he starts to knead it. my palms are pressed flat against the desk with anticipation, silently thankful that my panties are still on. I think I'd be dripping down my thighs if they weren't.

"are you gonna be more respectful?" his voice is low, one hand tracing over my back. I shake.

"mhmm."

"I won't spank you if you don't use your words, sweetheart."

"yes." I choke out, no longer wanting to give any sort of resistance. I had no idea there was this side of him, and I love it.

he loves it too, apparently, because his hand comes down sharply on my ass. I yelp at the contact and he runs his fingers over the point of impact, rubbing the flesh gently.

"too hard, baby?" he checks.

"harder." I beg. I can't see his face, but I can sense his smile as if it's my own. his palm hits me again, and I gasp.

"you like being punished?"

"yes." strangled and desperate.

he slips his finger beneath the fabric of my panties, collecting my essence and letting out a quiet moan when he feels me. I push my hips against his fingers, partly expecting him to remove all the pressure, but he doesn't bother waiting.

he slips his index inside and I gasp. starts to push in and out, his silence proving his arousal. I can practically feel his eyes on me. the pace increases a bit and he slides in his middle finger. I buck against the desk.

"oh fuck!" I cry out as he starts to go faster. he curls them against my walls and I arch my back.

"two fingers and you're already breaking?" Spencer chuckles as he moves inside me. he keeps one hand on my ass while he does it, starting to finger me at a ridiculous speed while I pant and moan and cry.

"I--" I gulp down air. "I need you in it."

he bends down by my ear, never breaking his rhythm. my legs are shaking from the force. "you need my cock?"

"yes," I feel myself closing in around him. "god, yes."

"you're lucky I wanna fuck you so bad." he mutters. I grin as I hear the clink of his belt coming undone, the sliding through the belt loops, the sound of him stripping down to nothing. I can feel my excitement on the inside of my thighs, spread around by his reckless fingers as he removes my panties and skirt.

he grinds himself against my pussy, coating himself in me, while he releases low, longing moans. I suck in a breath when the head pushes in, every inch pushing me open a little more. I don't have the ability to form words, so I bite my lip and grip onto the edge of the desk until my knuckles turn white.

his breath stops for a moment before he groans.

"so ready for me."

he's not even all the way in, and he has to pause to let me adjust. when he taps the inside of my thigh for me to part them more, I do it quickly and beg him to fill me up. I can barely take the pressure between my hips, but it burns in an inviting way.

"keep going." I direct him. he runs his hands over the curve of my waist and starts to thrust into me at a rate that leaves me panting. it's not too fast or slow, just impatient and needy. every sound that spills from his lips turns me on more.

"where'd the attitude go, huh?" he digs his hips into mine. his cock hits my cervix and I squeak against the wood, but he holds my back down. I don't even try to argue with him, too overcome with the pleasure that's coursing through my limbs. he starts to build up his speed. "don't have much to say when you're getting fucked?"

"Dr. Reid--" I moan.

he plows into me so hard, the desk shifts on the floor and he grabs my ass with both hands.

"take it, baby. fucking take it."

I get up on my elbows to look behind me, just to glimpse how he looks as he gets closer. his curls have fallen more in his face, and his shirt is gone. I want to touch him desperately, to feel the lovely skin of his torso and arms and everything else, but he keeps me down for the most part. all I get is the sight of his mouth open and his hips moving quickly against mine.

"look at me, there you go." he grabs my face and holds me there, our eyes locked. mine are welling at the sheer overwhelming pleasure inside, but his are dark and intense. they search mine for something I can only hope to offer.

"that feels so good, Dr. Reid." I pant. he bites his lip as he watches my mouth hanging open in lecherous shock.

"I bet it does," he explores my body. "coming in here, hoping I fuck you like you deserve. you're lucky I'm going easy on you."

"thank you." I whine.

"you might need some extra lessons, yeah?" he grunts out, moving into me with a bruising force.

"yes, please." I whisper. my voice is practically gone at this point, my mind entirely focused on the knot building in my stomach.

"what was that, baby?" he pulls my hair gently.

"yes— fuck— yes, please, Dr. Reid."

"what a beautiful girl." he smirks. I whimper when he runs his fingernails down my ribcage. I can feel it coming from the way he starts to move tumultuously, every thrust pushing harder and seeking more release. it's fervent, how he takes me and grips my hips like the force itself will push him over the edge.

"I'm so close..." I breathe out as I try for as much friction as I can.

"show me," he drops down so his stomach is flush to my back. "show me how you cum, Y/N."

the way he says my name-- husky and warm and full of lust-- causes me to snap. I cry out as he reaches around to clamp a hand around my mouth, climaxing and pulsing around his dick as I drop down against the surface again. I want him to finish inside, so I do my best to keep him here. and his thrusts are getting more staccato as he chases the sensation my walls create.

"can I fill you, angel?" he asks. he's breathing right by my ear, and the feeling is sending shivers down my spine. I love how his weight feels.

"yes." I moan and he slides his fingers into my mouth. I suck on them while he orgasms, jerking into my pussy and letting out unholy sounds of ecstasy. he says unintelligible things in the throes of his orgasm. pounds into me until I'm sure I won't be able to walk tomorrow.

"jesus christ, Y/N." he slows to a stop. when he pulls his cock out of me, the absence makes me whine. I miss his body already.

"oh my god." I clench my hands into fists as I try to catch my breath. I'm still bent over the desk as though I've been completely sapped of all my energy. I suppose I have. he doesn't touch me for a moment in the spirit of letting me recover from the small shudders still running over my skin.

"that was great." he says after we've both had time to fill our lungs. I push myself onto my elbows again.

"correct." I grin and straighten up more until I'm standing. he stares at me, at the cum now dripping down my legs, entranced.

"let me get you something to clean up." he snaps out of it a little. I can't stop looking at him, either, in love with the way he moves and the way he breathes after exerting himself on my body.

"come here." I bite my lip. for some reason, despite what we just did, this is scarier than everything else. he steps closer and I reach up, kiss him softly. part of me worries that he'll pull away and be terrified. maybe that he'll tell me that I've read too much into this.

he's much gentler than before. our first kiss was full of need and primal desire, but this is more affectionate. I remove myself from his embrace.

"okay, you can go now." I giggle. his fingertips linger on my waist and he smiles. I push his shoulder. "I literally have your cum all over me-- go."

"fine." he starts to put his clothes on.

"does this mean I get an A?" I joke. Spencer shakes his head.

"nice try. when we're done cleaning you up, we're gonna sit down and figure this out."

I let out a whine, and he kisses my cheek before looking me in the eyes. "it'll be fun. I promise."

"math is not fun."

"I can't believe I like a girl who doesn't enjoy such a beautiful subject." he rolls his eyes and I giggle. he's perfect.

#spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #dr. reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #professor reid

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anothergirlrecovering · 6 years

Text

Lynn 66

I got to Lynn's and sat down in the waiting area. I noticed that her machine wasn't on and it looks like the light was off so I assumed that I was her first appointment and I was like I mean did she forget about me or is she just leave because usually she's not late but I know I'm her first session. So she doesn't end up walking in about five minutes late and says sorry she's late and I was like no worries I'm the same way in the mornings, and I told her that I was just texting my friend amanda about how when is never late and she was like well you're never early. I couldn't help but laugh because she is so Savage and so funny. She told me to hang on a second while she gets her office put together and I said sure. She invited me in and I sat down and she was like I always think that I have more time in the morning then I actually do and I always end up a few minutes late. I was like honestly I'm the same and I have a client who we just have this understood role that even though we say 9 o'clock it will actually be more like 905. Lynn laughed and was like I thought about telling all my first clients to plan for 910 or 915 but then I realized all that means is that I would start showing up at 9:20 or 925 LOL. I was like Yep I totally get it. Then she said that she is having an issue with static cling this morning and that her shirt is so staticy. She asked if I had any tips or tricks and I was like well there's an antistatic spray that you come by or you can use a dryer sheet and she was like yeah I actually brought a dryer sheet with me but it's not working and then she picked up the dryer sheet and put it next to her and I was like maybe if the dryer she is next to me it will help LOL I was like maybe. I told her that my school uniforms in high school were complete static magnets so we were always using dryer sheets to manage it. She asked how I was doing and I said I was OK. I told her that I was honestly just feeling really overwhelmed and not necessarily like a mental health overwhelmed as much is like and I'm actually overwhelmed with so much to do that of course I'm going to feel overwhelmed. I told her about how I'm not actually able to bill insurance yet because I'm waiting on the stupid enrollment to go through and it takes 10 to 11 business days now and how that's really annoying because I'm ending up having to keep tabs on sessions that are billable but not actually build them and I know it's gonna be a lot of work coming up. We ended up talking about our frustrations with the process and Lynn was saying that she got an email about being removed from the enrollment of that website and she was like but I never even had anything on that website since that didn't used to be a thing and I was like I mean you should probably look into that though. She said she called the main portal that they just switched to but it seems like the people working there weren't exactly knowledgeable. I said that definitely made sense and I said I didn't have the old portal so the new one is all that I will now so at least there's that. She said it's all very confusing and annoying and I agreed. I told her about how I have a Wiccan client now and how it's been interesting because growing up I had always been taught that wiccans were evil and bad and you shouldn't associate with them because you are opening up the doors to evil spirits and we fight not a flash but I have principalities and that type of thing. Lynn pointed out she thought this was a great client for me and I was like yeah I had to remind myself at the beginning of session like this is just a person and later on I was just thinking about how silly it is that I grew up with those beliefs and how hard that is to shake even though I totally know the stuff I grew up with was crap. She said that to take note of being mindful of how weekends of you forgiveness and that it's just a tip from her from where her personal experience sometimes it is a little bit different than what we might normally think. I said OK and I would take note of that. I also told her about how I wrote the apology to Anthony on Facebook. I told her about how he had written back and she asked if I felt better about things and I was like I mean in the moment no but I mean after-the-fact I guess I feel a little bit better knowing that I at least said sorry even if he wasn't exactly appreciative or anything, but at the same time like I think I would feel better if he had said something more like thanks for reaching out it's water under the bridge I'm doing well thanks hope you're doing well too, or something but then again that is just how I would respond in that scenario. She pointed out that she thinks that maybe he has mental health issues and I was like yeah or maybe he's not doing well which is why he didn't say he's doing well and she was like but notice that this probably says more of him than it does you and I was like yeah well he might hate me but you know it is what it is I guess at this point. I told her that I gave my speech and it went fine but that the next two assignments give me more anxiety than anything and she was like well what are they and I explained the coffee cup one and then a monologue. She was like you could totally do an easy one with the coffee cup just to pretend you're me. I laughed and I was like I don't know how I could stretch that out for two minutes and she was like yeah two minutes is a long time you'd have to come up with a lot but she was like it could be really funny you could do all of the therapy clichés how does that make you feel. I was like yeah I guess that's true I don't know. It's just an annoying one and I hope that he ends up not making us do it. As far as monologues go she was like oh there's a ton that you could do and I was like I know there's a lot but I literally know nothing about monologues or how to pick one or what's good and what's not or what you even do while you do a monologue and she was like my daughter has had to do so many for theater I could probably think of some if you want to email me and I was like yeah I probably will, she said she can only think of boy ones off the top of her head because right now her son is auditioning for all of the schools. I said yeah the only one that I thought of to do was dear Evan Hansen but I was like I'm not a guy so I can't really do Evans speech at the end although I thought about just being like screw it i'm not getting graded and back in the day peter pan was played by a girl and technically men used to play the role of women so it's not like you can really do anything to me if I did that. She was like that's true that would be a good one and I was like yeah I don't know and she was like actually there's one hang on so she grabbed her phone and she looked it up and told me the name of it and said that there are some great monologues from it and that her daughter had done one before. She said there was also a really good one about A runaway bride that her daughter had done and she was like I can't think of the name of the title so she started googling and she was like I'll just text her and see if she responds during session and I was like OK and she was like there's like this one part where it's a monologue where she's talking about how she left the guy at the altar and I was like yeah I'm sure my husband would love knowing that you suggested this one. She started laughing and she was like make sure you tell him I didn't mean this intentionally because of him. I laughed and I was like well I did tell him about how you said you like Star Wars and he was like don't tell me that I'm not supposed to like Lynn and she laughed and She was like like I said he's welcome to come in for a session if you wants to go over some of the context of why I said that. I was like no he wouldn't want to but it's fine I think he deep down inside understands why the context of it coming up would have come up it's just that we don't necessarily want to acknowledge or talk about it and she was like that makes sense. She said that she definitely has those monologues on her computer so worst case scenario she will end up checking her computer for me later if I send her an email. I told her that would be great. She also said that she thought it would be a good idea to go back and read the play book of whatever monologue I pick and I said yeah that was why I thought dear Evan Hansen would be a good one because I completely understand the entire context of everything. She asked me what I thought we needed to work on since it sounded like I had a good week and I was like hold on all of the usual stressors are there there's just not a reason to update because I'm always super anxious about everything. I told her that I just want to have normal levels of performance anxiety and I was like like your daughter has some anxiety before she performs right? And she was like oh yeah of course and I was like I just want to have like her level of anxiety and she was like oh no I think she would say the same about your anxiety and I was like there's no way and she was like yeah anxiety is anxiety and I think you guys would both be happy trading off with each other. So I joked and was like well at least she knows that her mommy loves and supports her and Lynn was like it doesn't matter how many supportive loving texts I send or phone calls I make, she will still have that anxiety. Lynn explained that she thinks it's more of a nature than an archer and that some of us are just more wired to be anxious and more of that compulsiveness. I said well in theory those people at least know that they have a secure base if we're looking at eight attachment theory lens. Lynn said she knew what I was talking about but she said she honestly didn't really see that making a difference because she said that ultimately those people still having anxiety because anxiety is anxiety and I pointed out that they at least know when they fail there are people who will love and support them regardless which she countered with explaining that while that is true, that also creates another type of anxiety and not wanting to disappoint those people which I hadn't really thought of. I said that made sense though. So she told me we could do some EMDR and she asked to just notice what about all of this still really bothers me. I noticed that it just really bothers me this fear that people are going to judge me even though that's not really rational. I noticed that I got really anxious and I thought about how we did have a feeder program in 12th grade and I legitimately can't remember anything about it. The only thing I remember from the actual day of the play was that that was the day that my best friend chose to tell my mom that I was cutting and that my mom showed up during the play and pulled me out and sat me down and shamed me and basically insinuated that I had a problem and needed to go to a doctor or something and how after that Erica had stop talking to me and then my mom blamed me and said that it was because I haven't forgiven her and then Eric and I went and talked about it and she basically said there's too much to handle and too difficult and she wanna be my friend anymore and so everything just kind of fell apart. I said it just makes me mad because I really can't remember anything about that class and I know that it was a class and normally I have a great memory and can remember a lot of details of things and I remember all of my other classes at that school . I noticed that I felt really anxious and I was thinking about when we had the very first theater class and I do remember sitting in the cafeteria and being handed papers and then I felt really anxious and I remember the teacher but I really can't remember what all we did in our classes or anything but I know we had classes multiple times a week for the whole semester. I said I guess I wouldn't have tried out for any parts because I would've been afraid of failure and embarrassing myself because I was the new kid at the school. She told me to just notice and I got frustrated that I really just can't remember. I said that I remembered taking hats and laying out in the grass and taking goofy pictures with my friend Brittney and that Brittney had started to become my best friend and she actually knew that I was cutting but didn't tell my mom and I tried to tell Erica that Britney knew and she wasn't telling my mom so it was fine and she didn't need to tell my mom. I said at some point in the conversation must've shifted away from my needs and on to Brittany's because her sister was married to our youth group leader and he was also a music teacher and he had gotten arrested during our school year for having sex multiple times at a hotel with this teenage girl who used to go to our school and of course at the beginning Britney and I were both team her brother-in-law because we thought there was no way that he would ever do something like that but then the evidence came out and he most definitely had. I remembered that I could picture the stage and that the state was actually where Brittany and I were sitting when I told her that I was struggling with cutting but that I don't think it was during play practice it was either during after school before practice or before one of our sports practices or something because I remember us both sitting there but I couldn't tell you why. Otherwise I really just can't remember any of it. Lynn was like knowing everything you know what would make you not remember it and I was like I don't know I mean, which she was like what about the fact that the play was a very Trumatic time for you and I was like I mean I could see where yeah I would've been really anxious leading up to the play once Erica told me that she was going to call my mom at 8:21 if I didn't but then part of me was like well what time with the play have started because that would've been at least 20 minutes and even if it started at 8 o'clock which seems like a late show but maybe it was at eight but then what was I doing for those 20 minutes I mean maybe I was just really really anxious but it's weird that I can't remember it and then by the time that my mom was called and would've made it to the school it would've been at least 835 840 so again what was I doing during those first 40 minutes of the play that I just can't remember any of it. She said it makes sense to her that I was really really overwhelmed and I just can't remember it now. I said maybe but I still don't understand why I can't remember the rest of the classes because I could tell you a ton about our choir class and how much I hated it and all of the details about what we were doing what we were singing who I talk to etc. she said she would think that at this point my brain may have only had space for the dramatic aspect of the theater class and maybe that's blocked out any of the positive fun memories I would have had during that time fuck about how I honestly don't think I enjoyed anything during that time because I was so depressed but I didn't end up having time to say it. She said that was a good stopping place, and she would get out her computer and look up my insurance website to see if I have a credit. So she took out her computer and family around on the website trying to figure out the balance situation and she said that because I actually caught it so early with knowing the deductible that we actually did everything fine and technically I would like five bucks but she was like don't even worry about it and I was like OK great. So she billed me for today's session and we scheduled again for technically three weeks out. She said that she didn't have anything scheduled for the day so I told her 10 o'clock and I joked and was like I'm not stealing somebody's coveted 10 AM spot am I? And she was like no I don't think so honestly people schedules change so much and I was like OK great well that works for me. She told me good luck with my theater class and I said thanks and left.

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