#prof reid

[sixofpomegranates]

Would you write a one-shot where the girl is Spencer's student and somehow he hears a girl talk that she's a virgin (and also that she writes FICS about him), and something happen between them? I'd like her to be inexperienced, but not dumb about sex, nor bratty ❤️❤️ thank you so much for your fics btw, they're amazing

Fanfiction

Pairing: Professor!Reid x Virgin!Student!Fem!Reader

Word count: 14.4K (it's a long one | That's what she said.)

A/N: Quick PSA: A real person might not be a fan of you writing fanfiction about them... But writing this was fun! It never crossed my mind to have one of Spencer's students write a FF about him.

CW: Smut, Fluff | Mentions of Age Gap/Sexual Experience/Fanfiction/academic pressure/financial struggles/Parents not supporting your dreams, Oral (F), Fingering, Masturbation, Virginity/Loss of virginity, Penetrative Sex (unprotected, creampie), Nicknames (Bunny, Daddy, Sweetheart, Good Girl)

"The cold rain made the clothes cling to our bodies as we ran into the faculty building. I should've never agreed to interview my professor for the college paper. His class schedule was all over the place, and I struggled for weeks to find a place in his calendar to do it.

Stupid stubbornness had made me insist on him taking time for me tonight after classes. I had sat there through all his stomach-turning lectures and then waited for him to pack his stuff.

"Professor Collins, you said I was supposed to wait for you to find a free day on your schedule." I looked around the empty class. "Now seems to be the time."

"Miss Rivera, it is past eight, and I'd like to go home now. Why don't you do the same, and I'll send you a mail with dates that would be convenient for me."

Handsome but unattainable. He was known to be the most attractive professor on campus, clothed in secrecy and a need to keep his private life hidden. No wonder, a man working part-time as a teacher and part-time as an FBI agent needed to keep his secrets, I assume.

But tough luck. He'd been voted to be the most popular professor in our college, and therefore, this man was going to, at least, give me something to write about him.

"With all due respect, Professor, I have been running after you for weeks. I need this interview."

A loud thunder interrupted his try to back out of it, making him brush a hand through his hair.

"It's starting to storm soon. I assume you're taking the subway, just like me. I'd like the come home at least semi-dry, don't you?"

He tried to push past me, his hand on the strap of his leather satchel. I stepped in his way, his firm chest bumping against mine. I hadn't realized he was so much taller than me.

Another thunder made me jump. "I- I have a car."

He nodded, taking a nervous step back. We had stood too close. "That- That is good for you. The streets and public transport aren't safe for a young woman alone at night."

"I can drive you," I offered without thinking.

"Pardon?"

"You give me my interview, and I'll drive you home. We don't even have to have the interview here. I can drive us to a cafe. You once mentioned you never turn down the chance for coffee."

He raised his eyebrow. "You're not going to stop bothering me with this interview, am I right?"

I shot him a smile. "My persistence is one of my greatest assets, Professor."

He sighed, nodding. "Okay."

Clapping my hands, I lead the way to my car. I searched for my keys.

Pockets, handbag, bookbag,jacket.

"Is everything okay?"

I nodded, shooting my professor another smile.

Now, where were my keys?

"Are you sure?" He asked me, making me hear a smile in his voice. "It seems like you can't find your keys."

"No, no, no, I know I put them in here somewhere," I rambled, going through my bookbag again.

That was when one of its straps snapped and sent my books flying.

"Fuck!" I exclaimed, quickly sinking to my knees and picking my books up.

Of course, it wouldn't be my type of luck if I didn't also dump my handbag's contents in the same move. Perfect. Just perfect.

"Here," Professor Collins handed me one of my books. He had kneeled down next to me, helping me pick up my things.

Okay, maybe I saw his appeal. He was good-looking, his hair long enough to run your fingers through it and play with his curls and cheekbones that could cut glass. Kneeling down on the dirty floor for me, dirtying his always perfect suit, even when he detested everything that could suggest bacteria.

"Thank you."

As I took my book, our hands touched, and an electric shock ran straight through me. The sky opened, and it began to pour. Right, Professor Collins had predicted that it would rain...

A stupid laugh escaped me at the sudden decision the universe had made to make all of this look like a stupid rom-com.

Stuffing all my things into the bags, not carrying what I put into which, I looked at his now wet hair.

"I assume my ride home is canceled?" He joked, and my face became hot.

"Right..." I mumbled. "I'm so sorry."

He waved me off, standing up and lending me a hand. By now, we were both soaked.

"Let's go to my office. Maybe you'll find keys once we're dry and in a well-lit environment."

I nodded. "Please.""

*****

☀︎ POV: Spencer ☀︎

"Penelope, explain it again, please," I asked of her for the third time now.

My bubbly, blonde friend sighed. "A fanfiction, Reid. Or should I say, Professor Collins?"

The clear question mark on my face made Luke laugh. "Some girl from college has the hots for you and writes about a fantasy world in which you both are an item."

"No," I shook my head. I did not need to hear that. "Not interested in hearing about that."

This would only make the relationship with my students more complicated than it already was. The young women in my classes, especially those auditing them, made me nervous. Their looks were inappropriate, to say the least. And now I was supposed to have a head for one of them writing erotica about her and me as well?

Where would this nonsense end?

"But you should. Its publishing level good. Like, I read this in one night, and now I am constantly checking my phone to see if she updated her story," Penelope continued, gushing. "And honestly, except for a few quirks and that he works for the FBI, Professor Collins does not sound like you at all. He's such a dreamboat. Seriously. A man written by a woman."

"Thanks," I spat, taking the hint at my undateablility. Of course, a real person couldn't compare with a completely made-up man. Written ones never truly struggled with their problems in a way that would ruin the romance.

"Oh, boy. I didn't mean it like that," Garcia said.

Luke stared up from Penelope's rhinestone-covered phone. "Honestly, that story is spicy. Hey, from man to man, do you like BDSM?"

What the hell? What was this lunatic writing about me?

Penelope looked at her phone and smiled. "Oh, that isn't even the best one. Right now, there is this just hooking-up thing going on. The real fun starts once he falls for her and finally tries to have a real date with her."

Luke shook his head. "No chance. The alley scene where he tells her he can't touch her because it would be unethical, and they still have this absolutely animalistic-"

"You are making me uncomfortable," I exclaimed before I could hear any more of this.

"Sorry, man, but that stuff is good. And the side plots? How Adriene becomes a journalist, and they keep running into each other?"

Tara came in, coffee in her hand. "We talking about 'Paper Hearts & Printer Ink'?"

Ridiculous name. Stupid story. How old did I need to get, and how many titles did I need, to finally be taken seriously?

"Please tell me you're not reading that garbage," I practically begged, but Tara started laughing.

"That you call it garbage shows that you haven't read it. The author writes made-up cases that sound so real; I was convinced they were until I asked her on Tumblr."

Maybe I could ban auditing my classes, but what if this obsessive fan of mine was a student of mine? This story needed to vanish as promptly as it appeared.

Standing up, I fixed my tie and grabbed my satchel. "I'd be very thankful if you guys stopped reading it. Penelope, please take the story down."

*****

Which one of them?

The classes this week had me spinning. Every single one of them could've been the one writing in these indecent ways about me.

I knew all their faces and remembered all their available information. I was able to figure out which one of them wrote this garbage.

"Professor Reid?"

My head snapped up from my notes. "Yes?" I looked at [y/n], one of my thankfully normal students of mine.

"I just wanted to bring you Mrs. Perkins's invitation to the charity library sale. We were sorting out the books when she realized she forgot to hand you yours."

The girl handed me my invitation and smiled as I studied it. The college's library hat previously got a lot of new editions donated and now sorted out its stock. The books no longer needed would be sold for a bargain, and the money would be used to repair some of the old shelves.

I lacked the space for any more books, but how could I resist this feast? I made a mental note to ask Morgan to help me build another bookshelf for my apartment.

"Mrs. Perkins also told me to tell you that she would hold back some first editions for you."

I nodded thankfully. Helena Perkins was a little old lady in her eighties. The librarian and somebody I regularly brought tea and borrowed books from in my free time.

"Great. I can't wait," I smiled at [y/n] [y/l/n], who was one of the volunteers for this event. "Have you already got your eyes on something?"

This girl was almost as obsessed with books as I was. I often met her in the library. We never really talked, but we would smile at each other and then go on with our book hunt.

"Totally. I already have a box I'll have to figure out how to take home."

I furrowed my brows. "The sale is two days away."

She nodded. "That's the perk of helping organize it. I get to call dibs on the books I want."

I chuckled. "So that's why you helped."

She shook her head, laughing. "No? I help because Mrs. Perkins asked me to. The books are literally just a sweet bonus, and how she bribed me into helping."

"Yeah, she really knows how to bribe. I sponsor the buffet at the sale because of those first editions she's holding back."

"You know, since I started helping, I actually had to get rid of my dining table so I could fit in more books ins my apartment. I mean, I never have any visitors anyway, but still."

I nodded. "I'm having to ask a friend to build me a new shelf. Given the amount of books I own, I should really consider opening my own library."

Playing with her hoodie strings, [y/n] smiled. "See it as a positive thing. 'Doctor Spencer Reid's Library for the Book Addicted' has a nice ring to it."

"I might be going to steal that name," I joked back, loving how she bit into the pillow of her bottom lip while laughing.

She waved me off, pulling the hood of her hoodie back over her head to cover herself from the rain outside. "No need to steal; I gift it to you," she said sweetly. "Okay, I'm gonna leave now before Mrs. Perkins breaks her hip again, climbing around on those ladders."

"Have fun. Don't buy too many books," I called after her, hearing her yell back through the hallway, "You're not my boss!"

Silly girl. I liked her.

*****

""You are my student, Adriene!" He almost yelled. Only seconds before, he'd taken me on his desk, and now he shut me out again. "You can't seriously believe that this can be more than some random hook-ups."

I shouldn't have let it slip that I love him, but as he had looked into my eyes, it had been all I could think about.

I shook my head while fixing my disheveled clothes. "I- I am not your student. I am studying journalism. I only audit your class to-"

"You're still in my class," he insisted. "We can't meet anymore. This had been going on for too long anyway. You're having your exams soon, and they're more important than whatever this is anyway."

"But- It's not just a random hook-up for me," I admitted, feeling my heart sink as his face turned to stone.

"I'm sorry you caught feelings. I should've been more open about my intentions."

He didn't mean that. He couldn't. How were his intentions solely to fuck me? What a lie.

He could've done that and left, but he came back every time. He took me out to fancy dinners, watched movies with me, took me to bookstores and museums, and showered me with gifts and the stories of his past.

I thought there was more. There had to be more."

*****

God, that was a lot of drama.

Couldn't the two of them just finally get together and be happy? It wasn't that hard. Even if it was unethical at the moment, they only needed to wait a month. Adriene was soon going to finish college and get a job as a journalist.

I hated that I was able to understand where Zane came from, though.

She was so much younger. She had the chance to become a great journalist and see the world. Adriene deserved better than having a boyfriend who would probably get shot on a case.

She would understand and be thankful that he tried pushing her away over and over again once she was older. But right now, she clearly loved and accepted Zane.

I would've loved to have someone like Adriene.

She was caring and funny. She was addicted to books. Dreaming big but always counting Zane in.

Fuck. I wasn't falling in love with a fictional character, now was I?

*****

""Do you have any idea how angry I am with you?" He growled, while I only nodded.

"I'm sorry," I whispered while he made me stop by the car and helped me out of my kevlar vest. He ran his hand over the bullet hole in it and withdrew his hand as though he had burned his hand on fire.

"You could've died. Did you think even one second about that?" With anger, he tossed the vest into the backseat. "And this fucking vest is way too big for you."

"I'm sorry," I whimpered, flinching at every single one of his words.

"How could you be so reckless? A stunt like this could've cost my team or me our lives, and worse, it could've cost yours. Are you aware of that?"

I nodded, but that didn't seem to be enough.

"Adriene, I swear to god, you better answer me," he hissed, and I looked up at him, tears finally running down my face.

"I'm so sorry," I repeated, making him sigh and look me up and down.

"Are you hurt?" I shook my head, my whole body still trembling.

That was when Zane pulled me into a hug. "Thank god," he whispered. "Don't ever do that to me again. This story isn't worth your life.""

*****

She had daddy issues. Definitely.

The author was a girl with daddy issues that needed an outlet for her fantasies about an older man that could care for her.

She was most likely not in a relationship—if she had ever even been in a real one before.

I was nothing like Zane.

Just a little like him.

Okay, Zane was a carbon copy of most of my characteristics, even my bad ones.

The author had a talent for analyzing me.

At least our names and my hair and eye color were different. However, that seemed to help very little to hide my identity. Penelope had caught up on it in a heartbeat.

*****

"No. I am sick of this cat-and-mouse game, Zane," I yelled between tears and sobs. "You keep pushing me away, saying I'm too young for you. Yet, you are the one always coming back and never making up your mind. I may be young, but you're the one of us acting like a child!"

"Addy, please just listen to me."

I wiped my tears away, trying not to scream and wake my neighbors. "No, I am done listening. That's all I did until now, and it brought me nothing but heartache. It was always, 'Come here, Sweetheart.', 'Stay away.', 'Please come back.', 'I love you.' I'm done."

Zane took a step towards me, hand running over his stubbles. "You have the chance to become a great journalist and see the world, Adriene. You deserved better than having a husband who will probably get shot on a case."

"Then why are you always coming back?"

"Because I am selfish. I can't live without you."

I looked at him. His ocean-blue eyes were filled with tears he refused to let out. Where did this confession leave us?

"Can I please come inside, Sweetheart?"

*****

Wait, that was it?

Where was the rest?

The fuck did the author mean by 'To be continued'?

No. No, it was good that there wasn't any more of this. I didn't like how the author portrayed me anyway.

Pulling out my phone, I called Penelope. It rang a fair share of times before she picked up.

"Hello?" She sounded like she had a mile sprint behind her just to get to her phone.

"Garcia, it's Reid. I need you to tell me which of my students wrote the story."

"Why? What are you planning?" She asked suspiciously.

"I'll ask her to stop writing this and spare me from any more humiliation."

After a while of silence, Garcia answered simply, "No."

"Why not?"

"I'm not going to let you be mean to this talented girl!"

Was she for real?

"Penelope, if somebody's mean, then it's her. This is humiliating. She literally wrote about my dick and the many uses I seem to have for it in her fantasy," I told her with a hoarse, aggravated voice.

The call of reality seemed to have finally reached Garcia. I knew I was right, and now, so did she. This girl was openly projection this picture she had of me on the internet. Openly displaying me being called 'Daddy,' manhandling her like she was nothing more than my little toy.

I wasn't a man like that, and I surely didn't need somebody to think I was.

"Okay, fine. Take away one of my hobbies and crush a girl's spirit," Penelope huffed, annoyed. "Her name is [y/n] [y/l/n]."

"No, it's not," I replied almost instantly. "She- No. You're wrong."

"Genius boy, I am a lot of things. I am beautiful, sassy, a wonder woman, a natural talent in anything technology, but I am not – and I can't stress this enough – never, ever wrong about something so simple as uncovering the person behind a username."

I thanked my friend and hung up.

[y/n]. I had already crossed her from my list of suspects. She was sweet, quiet, and a good student. She never stared at me like the other woman in class, and she never seemed distracted or daydreamy.

She shared jokes with me, and I liked her... This annoyed me.

[y/n] was a wolf in sheep's clothing, and I had fallen for it.

Why did it have to be one of my good students? One that even was respectful and well-behaved when coming to my office or wrote me a mail when she wouldn't be able to make it to my class.

Somehow it would've been less insulting if it would've been a girl auditing my lectures.

Shaking my head, I looked at [y/n]'s user profile.

Her username was 'SixofPomegranates', an innuendo to Hades and Persephone. The king of the underworld had made his wife eat six pomegranate seeds to ensure she'd have to return to his side for six months of the year.

Her profile picture was a digital drawing of a little jackalope bunny surrounded by flowers. The little bunny reminded me of her, sweet and innocent looking.

She had the same look on her face coming to my office one day, as it had rained, and she was soaked, freezing. After handing her the materials she had missed, I'd made her stay until the rain had stopped, giving her my jacket as she started her way home.

The next day the coat had been returned to my office, a coffee from Starbucks next to it and a little flower-shaped sticky note on it thanking me.

I had kept that stupid sticky note in my wallet. It still was in there. It had this stupid joke on it that always made me laugh.

"*knock knock* Who's there? Thank you! Thank you, who?

Thank you for lending me your coat! Enjoy your coffee! — [y/n] ♡"

If that had been the day she started fantasizing about me?

Even if it was, it didn't give her the right to post erotic stories about me online. However, I hated the feeling those scenes now gave me, knowing that it was her.

Her profile's bio solely held a quote:

"My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary."

Wuthering Heights. Did she see the book as dramatic or romantic? Did she see Catherine and Heathcliff as star-crossed lovers and soulmates or co-dependent fools who couldn't get over each other even after death?

Why did she have to write this fanfiction about me?

I kicked my desk like a disgruntled child. Now I could never ask her for an answer. Could never look at her again without thinking about her fantasies.

These lusting, needy fantasies I shouldn't relate to.

I never had any normal fans.

Seriously, was it me? Was I the problem?

*****

"Miss [y/l/n], can you stay behind, please? I'd like to have a word with you."

I had just excused the rest of my students fifteen minutes earlier than usual. I couldn't seem to focus, my eyes always falling back to [y/n].

She had an astounding poker face. What was she thinking about while writing her little notes?

Was she thinking about me, asking her to stay behind after class?

About me, throwing her onto my table and fucking her on the assignments handed in by her classmates?

As she walked up to me, her side bag thrown over her shoulder, books clutched in her hands, she looked at me with a smirk.

"What is it, Professor Reid? I'm sorry to tell you, but you're not getting the Wuthering Heights copy we both hunted for from me. I got that one fair and square." She bit her bottom lip.

The night I learned about her alter-ego 'SixofPomegranates', I had been at the charity sale before. We had both reached for the same book, her beating me in Rock-Paper-Scissors and having me back off from the copy.

The rest of the night, I had thought of her fantasies, her being the subject of my desires, pulsing cock in my hand as I masturbated to the idea of playing those fantasies out with her.

The fact that I was mad at her had only fueled my longing for her before the feeling of post-orgasm clarity had brought me back to my senses.

I licked over my lips, checking if we truly were alone. "That's not what this is about. I-" I cleared my throat. "It had come to my attention that you wrote a little piece of... fanfiction about me. Us."

I hadn't thought it to be possible, but her eyes became even bigger. She looked at me like a frightened little bunny. Her big eyes filled with worry, and mortification was written all over her face while I was able to hide mine quite well.

Looking down at her feet and back up at me, she played coy, "I- I'm sorry?"

"A little story called 'Paper Hearts & Printer Ink'. Sound familiar?"

She swallowed harshly, "I- I- I don't- I didn't..."

As I, just like her, didn't know what to say, I decided to go with the truth. "See, I thought a lot about how I would handle this situation yesterday, and I've frankly got to admit that I am in unknown water here. I never thought about the possibility of a student of mine falling for me and certainly didn't think about one writing erotica about me and sharing it online."

Our eyes met, and I ignored the little infinite universes that formed between them.

"Listen, I would like to tell you that I feel flattered, but I don't. It is humiliating and makes me extremely uncomfortable. My colleagues at the FBI caught wind of it."

A frown popped up on the little bunny's face. "I- I'm sorry. I didn't- I didn't think-"

I nodded, going for the kill of this crush. She shouldn't think of me in any other way than me being her teacher. "Yes, you didn't. And it's very apparent."

She raised her eyebrows, looking like she was building momentum to talk back at me. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," I snarled. "Nobody with at least the rarest bit of common sense would do something as stupid as this. Your little amateur work has the power to ruin my reputation on campus. Have you thought about what this weird little fantasy of yours could insinuate?"

"This is a little harsh, don't you think?" She asked, bottom lip shivering. "I changed enough that nobody would ever draw any connection-"

I interrupted her. "And yet it wasn't enough. Else neither my colleagues nor I would've realized your little obsession with me."

"Obsession?" She mumbled.

"I am asking you politely to remove your work from the internet and keep those fantasies in your diary – where they belong. Should I catch wind of something like this happening again, I'll need to report you to the dean. I cannot have my character ruined solely because of a horny young girl."

She nodded, "Okay. I'm sorry for the inconvenience I caused you, Professor. I didn't mean it."

I turned away so I wouldn't see her little bunny eyes. "Just don't let it happen again."

[y/n] nodded a couple of more times and hurried out of my class. Hopefully, I had been condescending enough to have her leave those feelings behind and be a normal student again.

Maybe then, I could pretend this whole ordeal never happened. Maybe then, I wouldn't feel like running after her and apologizing.

*****

☁︎ POV: [y/n] ☁︎

On an idiot-scale from 1 to 10, I definitely was a 14.

"Yeah, I am just going to write about my hot criminology professor and all my kinks and post it online."

"I just change names and hair colors. Nobody's gonna know."

"How will they know? Impossible."

Dumb, dumb idiot. Stupid. No brain.

I'd known that I would never have a chance with my professor and therefore had created a world in which we shared more than just a smile at the library.

What was wrong with me? Professor Reid wasn't even that handsome... I mean, yes, he was, but he had been very clear about being uncomfortable because of me and somewhat called me a dummy.

Humiliated and on the verge of either throwing up or crying, I crawled into bed, ready to let the day end before I could embarrass myself any more.

But I still had to do something. I opened my notebook, opened my social media – the one I decided to use to embarrass myself and Professor Reid with – and opened 'Paper Hearts & Printer Ink'.

I really liked the story. Yes, I had thought about my professor when writing Zane Collins, but after a while, the lines between fiction and reality had blurred so much that the story had developed a life of its own.

It had no longer been Professor Reid and I in my head; it had been Zane and Adriene. Two fictional characters I had made up and related to so much during their adventures that it was therapeutic to write about them. It had become my comfort activity.

Well, either deleting this or kissing my academic career goodbye.

Such stupid bullshit.

My mouse cursor hovered over the delete button.

Yeah, no chance. I couldn't do it. Deleting it was so final—such a waste.

Instead, I decided to just archive my story. I would be able to keep the comments I had gotten on it, but it wouldn't be viewable anymore—a good middle ground.

I just couldn't upload any more stories. Not even the ones without my crush in it. He would see it and think of me as a crazy stalker, a yandere that was obsessed with him... He probably already thought of me like that.

But okay, I wouldn't let that ruin my semester. Two more weeks until my finals, I would just not take criminology with Professor Reid as professor next semester.

Yes. That sounded sensible. I'd write my finals and then ditch.

I'd hope Professor Reid would forget about it, but that guy had an eidetic memory. If asked, he'd probably be able to tell me what he had for breakfast ten years ago and what weather it was.

Well, no sympathy for dumbasses – That was me. I was the dumbass.

*****

☀︎ POV: Spencer ☀︎

She'd taken it down. No more 'Paper Hearts & Printer Ink'. Yet, it didn't really feel like a win for me.

Now I would never find out if Adriene and Zane got back together. Penelope and Tara definitely had given me their peace of mind about it as well.

And [y/n] didn't smile at me anymore. She stayed away. It was sensible given what happened between us, but still. I missed the smiles and short conversations.

I wondered if the little bunny would return to my classes next semester. She had amazing grades. It would've been a shame, although I probably scared her far enough away to never see her again.

Maybe I should've just stayed quiet about the story.

The last couple of free days I spent in Vegas, visiting my aunt, and now sat there in the hotel's restaurant eating dinner. I had read a book, so I hadn't noticed it right from the beginning, but as I put it down when the waitress appeared to bring me my soda, I saw her.

[y/n] was sitting there, playing with her phone.

What was she doing here?

She was dressed in this tight-fitting black dress, her hair and makeup all dolled up. She was clearly dressed to impress somebody, yet she sat alone. Just like me.

What a suspicious coincidence that she was at the same time in Las Vegas as I was, in the same hotel, eating dinner at the same time, and only a few tables away from me.

I didn't like the feeling in my gut. Not at all. Too often had I been the victim of insane women. I didn't want to – I couldn't – go through something like that again.

Sitting there and watching her for over ten minutes, she still sat there on her own. Why get dressed up like that if you're all on your own? And even if clothes didn't matter, why didn't she already order?

No. That was it. I would confront her. I grabbed my phone and sent her a mail.

***

"Miss [y/l/n],

I don't know what is going on inside your head, but following me to Vegas is undoubtedly not going to help you to get anything other from me than a restraining order.

– S.R."

***

I watched her looking at her phone, frowning. Then she looked around, and her big eyes met mine, looking like a frightened bunny. She shook her head and typed something on her phone. Then mine rang.

***

"Professor Reid,

I can assure you that this is merely a coincidence. I wasn't aware that you'd be here.

– [y/n]

***

Shaking my head, I replied.

***

"[y/n],

Are you sure? Because this seems like a rather substantial coincidence, don't you think?

Almost seems a little too much like a romance novel.

– S.R"

***

An angry sigh left her lips.

***

"Professor Reid,

I'm lacking the time, interest, money, and skills to stalk you.

Trust me, I won't pull an Annie Wilkes on you.

– [y/n]"

***

A reference to Stephen King's Misery. Macabre little thing. I missed her jokes.

***

"Adriene,

So you're trying to tell me you're not my number one fan?

­– Zane"

***

I watched her roll her eyes and lick her lips.

***

"Very funny. I'll laugh next week.

Now please leave me alone. I am waiting for my date.

– [y/n]"

***

My fingers were faster than my common sense.

***

"Your next victim?"

***

An angry gaze now burned itself through my clothes. I seemed to have been crossing a line with my teasing. Only fair since I had pushed her away as far as I had and now seriously started to pull jokes.

***

"Dear ostentatious prick,

'He felt as he always did when he finished a book — queerly empty, let down, aware that for each little success, he had paid a toll of absurdity.'

I liked you. I was crushing for you harder than I thought possible and childishly wrote a story I didn't figure would hurt anybody because I knew I'd never stand a chance with you.

I apologized for it and took it down. I am not going to visit another one of your classes ever again. I even planned that we'd never have to see each other again.

Tonight, that we met, is a coincidence since – surprise! – those happen to exist.

I now regret all the months I spent fantasizing about you and falling for you since I clearly was wrong about everything I thought about you. I feel silly, dumb, humiliated, and I'm clearly braindead.

Apparently, the only thing nice about you is your looks.

So now please leave me alone, as I told you before, I am waiting on my date. And no, it is not a man I needed to stalk, kidnap, drug, or anything else. It's somebody who I met online, who's interested in me, and asked me to come here to meet.

– [y/n] [y/l/n]"

***

Message gotten. Loud and clear. Great, now I felt like an asshole.

***

"Apologies, [y/n],

I did not intend to hurt your feelings. I'm well aware that you don't need to commit crimes to get men to be interested in you.

Have a nice evening.

– S.R."

*****

☁︎ POV: [y/n] ☁︎

Ten more minutes later, I still sat there alone. Kyle had clearly stood me up. I came all the way to freaking Las Vegas, and he didn't even have the balls to write me a text.

If he would've, I could've just... I don't know. I wasn't a big fan of Vegas. I had only come here because Kyle told me to.

I probably looked like a hooker waiting for a customer to approach and ask for my prize, dressed up like I was. I had been so sure he'd been interested in me.

This had been a waste of money, make-up, time, and shaving.

As my phone rang, I quickly looked at it, sighing as I noticed that it was only my professor. He probably thought I made up my date, so I had an excuse to stalk him.

***

"He stood you up, didn't he?"

***

I put my phone aside. I couldn't reply because I'd probably start crying. That's what I got for having expectations. Concentrating on my hands resting on the white tablecloths, I noticed a tear dropping onto one of them.

"Now, don't cry because of that guy, little bunny." I looked up at my professor standing there with his drink. Little bunny? "It's his loss that he didn't show up."

He sat down across from me, telling a waitress to bring a lighter for the candle in the middle of the table.

"What are you doing?" I asked him. "I'm not in the mood to force you to write a novel right now."

He looked at me, sighing jokingly, "Don't be silly; you're the author of us both, [y/n]."

As the waitress returned, she lit the candle between us, and Professor Reid ordered a bottle of wine.

"Seriously, now, what are you doing?" I asked him again. "You were pretty clear about your opinion of me, and I don't need a pity dinner with you."

"It's not a pity dinner. I just thought we'd both look less pathetic when not having to sit and eat alone."

"Aren't people in Vegas usually meeting up with escorts when they want company?" I asked sarcastically, staring at my phone and still hoping for a text.

Accepting the bottle of wine he ordered, the professor started to fill our glasses, chuckling, "Well, I am from Vegas, and although lonely, I've never chosen that type of company."

I looked at the menu the waitress had brought and at the wine bottle. One glass of wine already cost enough; I couldn't even imagine how expensive an entire bottle was.

Shit, I definitely seemed like a hooker.

"The bottle looks expensive," I mumbled, staring at the shiny letters on the label.

Professor Reid nodded, chuckling, "I hope it does. It's a two-hundred-dollar bottle."

My eyes went wide. "Two- Two. Hundred. Dollars?"

He waved me off, "Don't worry, I'll pay for it."

Running a hand over my head, I sighed. "People will think I'm a hooker or your sugar baby."

A pretty smile spread on his lips, paired with his cheeks starting to become pink, "I- I didn't intend it to appear like that. I- I've been stood up more times than I can count and just thought-"

I laughed at the way he started to fidget with his fingers, trying to explain himself. "So we're lying now?"

"I- How am I lying?"

"You have three PhDs, Professor," I reminded him. "I'm pretty sure you can count the times you've been stood up."

He nodded, smirking, "Yeah, true. I also don't date a lot, so the number is so small, they would revoke my Ph.D. in mathematics should I not be able to remember it."

Lifting his glass, my professor held it up.

"To your idiot of a date. If he would've shown up, I'd have to eat on my own."

He made it sound like a light-hearted joke, and I honestly believed there wasn't even any ill intent behind it. Still, it upset me.

"I thought he liked me," I mumbled, lifting my glass as well and clinking our glasses together. While taking a big sip, I hid my disappointment and hurt face behind the glass.

"If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn't love as much in eighty years as I could in a day," he replied, taking a sip as well.

"Quoting 'Wuthering Heights' to me does not make me feel better," I said, yet smiled because as we both had reached for the book weeks ago, things had still felt normal between us.

"Then what would?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Uhm... You're here to visit family?"

"My Aunt and her husband," my professor answered. "What about you?"

"You already know about my date."

His hazel eyes widened. "You really just came to Las Vegas for a man you've met online?"

"Wow. I wonder how you feel about that?" I snorted sarcastically, taking another sip of wine. Judgemental bitch.

He chuckled at my pout, "Come one, Bunny. Don't look at me like that."

There it was again, this pet name. "What?"

"Huh?"

"You just called me 'Bunny.' And I'm very sure you called me 'little bunny' earlier," I confronted him.

Professor Reid began to blush, looking around to avoid my gaze.

"I- I- Uhm... Yeah. I did," he admitted stuttering, and I nodded.

"Okay?" I replied. Now, who seemed a little like Joe Goldberg?

"You remind me of one," he explained after taking a sip of wine. "A little bunny, I mean. Your profile picture was a jackalope bunny; since then, I can't help but make that connection all the time."

He had seen my entire profile. No wonder he thought I was nuts. Still, I liked the nickname. I'd never been given one before, and he said it with so much adoration I could almost think he liked me a little.

"I guess there are worse nicknames," I whispered, making him chuckle in reply.

"Like ostentatious prick?"

I nodded and deadpanned, "Among others."

Staring at the candle between us, I reached out for its flame, playing with it without burning myself as long as I stayed focused.

"Can I ask you a question about... what you read?" I asked, avoiding his eyes while my face burned as hot as the candle was bright.

"Of your works?" I nodded. "Well, I read all chapters of our little story. I didn't read your others, though. Are you planning on becoming an author?"

"God, no," I snorted, self-deprecating. Looking at my phone, I repeated my parents' words, "Can't feed a family with childish dreams."

"Those are definitely not your words," my professor noted, and I frowned.

"How'd you know?"

"Profiler. And your gaze went down to your phone while saying it. I assume your family is your screensaver?" I nodded. "What do they want you to be?"

Thinking of all the pressure on my shoulders, making me shorter than I was and my dreams even duller, I started counting, "Doctor, nurse, lawyer, CEO... Do I need to go on?"

He shook his head. "So you're studying to please your parents?"

"And to make sure I'm in deep debt before ever even fully starting to live."

"Would you want to be an author if there wasn't all that pressure on you?"

That was the first time somebody asked me that. Asked me what I wanted in general.

I gifted him a stupid grin. "Can you imagine holding a book in your hand and knowing that you're the one who wrote it and can live off of it? I mean, I wouldn't do it for the money or the fame, of course, but it would be nice not to feel the urge to cry every time a bill arrives in my mail."

Professor Reid stopped my fingers from playing with the flame. Holding my hand instead. "If you're really serious about it, you should pursue this hobby and make it your job."

"And if I fail?" I asked him, my eyes probably giving away the fear of taking that risk.

"Stephen King is one of the best-selling authors of all time, with a net worth of 500 million dollars. Yet it took years of countless rejections before 'Carrie' was published, and as it was made into a movie the following year, they didn't even write his name right in the credits."

But Stephen King didn't write fanfictions about his professor fucking him. I assumed. "So, I should risk becoming a writer because I could be the Stephen King of embarrassing, obsessive little stories I write, although they should stay in my diary?"

I pulled my hand away and wrapped it around my glass instead.

"I- [y/n], I needed to be harsh so you'd understand the troubles your fanfiction could cause us. It had nothing to do with your talent."

Why the hell was I doing here? I couldn't sit here any longer with the man I was head over heels for and listen to him giving me a pep talk about how my fanfiction wasn't as bad as he initially had said.

"I need-" I grabbed my phone and threw it in my purse. "I really should-"

I stopped trying to explain myself and stood up.

Professor Reid stood up as well, hand running through his curls. "Please don't leave. We haven't even ordered yet."

I shook my head. "I- I need to get a hotel room. It's getting late and- Yeah. I- Thanks for the wine."

As I bolted to the elevator, I could hear quick steps behind me. "Hey, [y/n]. Wait," he called after me. "God, your fast in those shoes."

As he reached me while I frantically pushed the elevator buttons, his hand touched my arms. "Hey, what did I do wrong?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I- I'm awkward, and you're nice to me, and telling me my writing didn't suck, and I really can't crush on you anymore. So I'm running."

The elevator doors opened, and I quickly got in, pressing the button for the lobby and then the one closing the doors.

Just as I thought I had officially ended this strange meeting, Professor Reid reached between the doors, holding up the elevator and getting in with me.

He pressed the buttons again. What was he doing?

"What- I- Go back to the restaurant. Did you even pay? Oh my god, did we just dine and dash?"

He began laughing, shaking his head. "It's added to my bill, don't worry. I just..."

"You just, what?" I asked before he could actually finish his sentence.

"Wanted to make sure you're not running off and... Do you really not have a room?"

I shook my head, watching the floor numbers go down. "I was planning to stay with Kyle," I admitted.

"You- Bunny, you didn't know that man. You can't just stay with a stranger from the internet. Even if you'd hit it off from second 1, this is rushing things and risking your health," the professor lectured me.

"Please don't call me Bunny," I mumbled, feeling like crap. As always, when I got lectured.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

As we reached the lobby, I got out, Professor Reid grabbing my arm again and sighing. "[y/n], I- This is going to sound so condescending, but I don't think you'll be able to afford a room here."

Yeah. Condescending was a fitting word. Like, I'm sorry, I'm a broke student, but it's not like I can't afford the broom closet for the night.

I raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think that?" "You said you want to cry when having to pay your bills, and you almost threw up because of a two-hundred-dollar price tag on a bottle of wine. The cheapest rooms here cost 300$, and they're most likely all booked."

Oh. Okay. Yes, maybe he'd been right. 300$ was a lot of money in my world. I didn't even think my credit card would work at such a high price tag.

"Oh, okay. I- I'll just- I'll find a motel," I almost whispered to myself, grabbing my phone and opening a booking site.

I wasn't helpless. I was capable of taking care of myself. Worst case, I would change my flight home and sleep at the airport.

Taking my phone from me, my professor sighed. "This is ridiculous, [y/n]. Please just come upstairs with me. I have a suit. I'll sleep on the couch."

"You have a suit?" I asked, astounded.

This man had at least five COMME des GARÇONS cardigans. Of course, he could afford a two-hundred-dollar bottle of wine and a suit here.

"I rarely travel, so I like to spoil myself every once in a while," he explained himself, and I nodded in broke-bitch.

"Thank you, but I can't take you up on that offer. It's- I- This-"

Professor Reid interrupted me. "I promise I would never try anything indecent. I simply want to know you are safe."

The indecent had been exactly what my mind wanted. I thirsted over this man since I had first seen him ramble about stressors and aggressors. He was so passionate about everything he talked about. I liked that passion dangerously much.

Even thought about how passionate he would be about sex, would he be with somebody that caught his interest and was worth his time.

But now he stood there, trying to ensure me that I was safe, almost like I was made from glass.

"The whole bunny thing, huh?" I asked, and he nodded.

"Innocent, fragile, little thing. If you feel too uncomfortable to share the suit with me, I fully understand, but then at least let me pay for a separate room for you."

I shook my head, having to giggle. He was so oblivious. How was he so oblivious? It was kind of cute, to be honest.

"I think, in general, we both have a very different impression about why I'd be uncomfortable sleeping in the same suit as you."

His lips formed a little o, "It's because of the crush?"

"Obviously," I giggled.

"I- I'm sorry. Sometimes things like that fly right over my head."

I nodded. "Yeah, noticed."

"I'd enjoy your company, though, and maybe we could order room service, and you'd tell me if Adriene decides to give Zane another chance?"

Rolling my eyes, I looked at him. "Now you're teasing me again."

He shook his head. "No, I really want to know. See my invitation as a bribe."

I'd been willing to sleep at a stranger's place who I saw as a rebound for my crush on Professor Reid. I could might as well stay with the man I knew I wouldn't have gotten over in the first place.

"Kay. I'll get my bag."

*****

☀︎ POV: Spencer ☀︎

Opening the suit's door with my key card, I stepped aside and let [y/n] walk in first. She looked around, mouth open and astounded.

I had judged her and called her obsessed, yet here I was, thinking about how I could spoil her with everything I had to give just to see her in this state of awe some more times.

Stepping out of her heels, she shrunk a fair bit. She let her bag fall to the floor and began looking around. The view over Vegas had caught her interest.

She instantly walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looked outside.

"Wow," she mumbled. Turning around to look at me, she asked, "Have you seen your view?"

I nodded. "Since I came here a couple of days ago. If you like that, you're gonna love the bathroom."

Raising her brows, she darted away, only to storm to my side again. "Holy shit. You have a jacuzzi bathtub. I- That thing is bigger than my bathroom."

"Feel free to take a bath later on," I offered.

She nodded. "Oh, don't mind if I do."

I took off my suit jacket and threw it over a chair. Grabbing the room service menu, I sat down on the couch.

"What would you like to eat?" I asked [y/n], jumping a little as she hopped over the couch's back to sit next to me.

*****

Dinner and dessert later, I found myself still captivated by this little bunny. She had been, as always, herself. The girl that made me laugh with her sarcastic tone and bad jokes.

"You should publish that book after reviewing some of the changes again. It has potential," I now told her, making her shake her head and giggle.

"You're just saying that because you enjoy the high praises you get throughout the story."

"That's only a little true." I grabbed the bottle of champagne, pointing at her flute. "More champagne?"

Emptying her glass, she shrugged. "I already feel and look like a hooker, so sure. Hit me."

How often was she going to make that joke?

"Stop saying that. You're extremely beautiful," I told her.

A sassy grin appeared on her face. "I didn't say I wasn't beautiful. I'm just saying that I am dressed extremely provocatively – more than I'd like to – and am drinking champagne in a hotel suit more expensive than my entire apartment's furniture,  while sitting there with a man almost twice my age. These jokes write themselves."

"You can go change into your pajamas if you'd feel more comfortable," I offered her, rolling up my sleeves and opening the first few buttons of my dress shirt.

"Yeah..." she mumbled, looking away and biting her lip.

Did she forget to pack them?

"You didn't bring clothes to sleep in? Seriously, what did you plan on—Oh." Realization set in my bones. She hadn't brought them because she'd planned on sleeping naked or in the clothes of this other man.

Clearing my throat and ignoring the picture of her naked in my bed, I offered, "If you want, I'll get you some of my clothes to sleep in?"

She shook her head. "You don't have to. I'll just sleep-"

"Naked?" I interrupted her with a grin.

She rolled her eyes, correcting me. "In my dress."

I shamelessly stared down her figure and then snickered, "You have to admit that I wasn't that far off then."

"Prick." She hit my arm playfully before laying down on the fuzzy carpet before us, staring at the ceiling full of gold accents.

She was so beautiful, eyes shining brighter than the Las Vegas strip.

"Can I ask something that will definitely cross the line?" I asked, making her look at me.

"You read erotica I wrote fantasizing about you. I think we're long past crossing a line."

She said things with so much character I always had to chuckle. "You came to Las Vegas to sleep with this guy, didn't you?"

Her intentions had been very obvious by now. An internet date that had made her come all the way to Vegas dressed like a daydream, no pajamas... I didn't judge her, she was a young woman that had a right to explore her sexuality, but I also detested the thought of this man running his hand all over her.

He would've probably didn't even know what she liked.

Propping herself up, she looked a little surprised, proofing that I was right with my assumption.

"Huh, I was wrong. There's the line." She still spoke with humor in her voice, laying back down, hand in the air, following the folding drawings on the ceiling.

"I'm sorry. I just- I just really don't understand that. He's an asshole that didn't even care to cancel your plans, and you flew out here, probably spending more money than you can afford, just to give him a night he would most likely not even know to appreciate," I explained myself, voice laced with envy.

"We talked for a while and got along. I think I was just getting sick of only ever fantasizing about things and thought he would do."

"You came to Vegas to give that guy your virginity?" I blurted out in disbelief, and she looked at me again.

"Virginity is a social construct made up by man," she told me, then shrugged. "But yeah, kinda."

"You-" My brain struggled to function a little. It surely didn't change my opinion of her, but the way she had written, leaving these fantasies in my brain for weeks... "You write pretty well about sex for somebody you never had it before."

She nodded, a smile on her lips. "Well, I'm not stupid. Also, it's not like I have zero experience, and I read a lot too."

That loser had almost taken her virginity, absolutely undeserving of it.

Looking into my face, she giggled, "You look so shocked right now."

"N-Not shocked, just... really, really glad he didn't show up," I stuttered, making her raise her eyebrows.

"Why?"

"I- I don't know," I lied, and she saw right through it.

Of course.

"Back with the lies again, Professor?" She smiled, and I was certain she knew I'd been envious.

The most interesting thing was that she didn't care about it. I wondered just how deep her feelings for me were.

Feeling the urge to join her on the floor, I backtracked. I didn't want to lay on the floor. This carpet was probably dirty.

I hid my longing to be close to her behind a topic-changing question. "How did you come up with Zane's backstory?"

She shrugged. "Made it up."

"Yes, but how did you get inspired?"

"I watched you and thought of why you do the things you do."

I chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "So you profiled me?"

"The amateur version of it."

"Do it again. Tell me what you profiled," I urged, leaning onto my knees and watching her.

"Well, You have lots of PhDs and BAs. That made me think, why? Yes, having them is nice, but it seems more like you have to prove something.

"You're not talking about your parents, but you're very protective and respectful of the women around you, which made me think you're close to your mother and-or grew up in a very female-dominated household.

"Yet you're single and have no children, although having told us before that you're the godfather of your friends' children. Given these facts, I assume your father left you and you're mother, and since then, you try proving to yourself and him that it's his loss and that you're worth sticking around. It's just hard believing it yourself at times, and the thought of being too much like him messes with your love life because what if you run away too?"

I nodded, hiding behind my poker face how close she came. "Go on."

"You got very passive-aggressive as you saw me at the restaurant. You feared being stalked by me, which made me think of trauma a woman forced upon you since she was obsessed with you.

"You realized your reaction to me being here was too much and backtracked with awkward humor. You blush at times, which makes me think you're shy, were even shyer when you were younger, and women, sex, and family became interesting for the first time when you were in your mid to late twenties.

"You're still nice to me, very sweet actually, which tells me that somehow I did not embarrass you as much with this story as I recognized you in a very weird way. You're just very caught up in norms and uncertainty about this situation, so you do what you do best, and that is removing yourself from the situation."

So she saw me – just like Adriene saw Zane – and still, her pupils dilated, and she was interested in me.

"You're good at that. Are you sure you didn't stalk me?" I joked, and she giggled.

"I'm a writer. I can't even watch a movie without being able to predict the ending."

Maybe I would test that theory sometime and take her out for a movie. If she were up for the challenge, maybe even a Russian one.

"Want to even the square and profile me?" She offered.

"I have an unfair advantage since your fanfiction let me into your head and what you already told me," I told her, but she shrugged.

"It's okay."

Taking a deep breath, I started. "You're a young woman that clearly has a thing for older men. I'd say, growing up, you were always more mature than the boys in your classes. Everyone else around you began dating, but you couldn't find the idea of those drama-ridden boys entertaining enough to do so too. Instead, you read, maybe even more adult books than somebody your age should've."

Her big eyes captivated me, and so I sunk to my knees, crawling towards her while continuing.

"It made you realize that once boys became men, meaning they no longer were as childish as to solely think of a woman's looks and were ready to take care of someone and be responsible, they become interesting to you."

Her breathing became heavier as I leaned over her, one arm holding myself up, the other's fingertips dancing on the skin of her upper arm.

"Dating men older than you is, however, difficult since most of those who use dating apps are the same boys you didn't like in your teenhood, only older. Yet, you're somebody who depends on dating apps since you are too shy to ever see a man in public and just flirt. Some hard rejections while growing up, I assume.

"So you stopped looking for somebody for a while, and when coming to my classes, you found the type of man that spoke to you. I was your professor and therefore off-limits, I also blame some insecurities for your thinking, but that didn't stop you from fantasizing about it, so you began writing about all the little what if's.

"The fantasies felt good because, in them, you could develop not only me in the way you wanted it but could also write yourself to be the truest you there is. Adriene has a dream she can follow without struggle because she has the support of her family and the means to pursue it. [y/n] has a dream and talent, but your family has plans for you, and the academic pressure they put on you keeps you from pursuing what you actually want.

"This fanfiction is actually a very genius form of self-therapy for you. Whenever Adriene or another character struggles, it's actually yourself, and by resolving the struggle in your story and reading the comments that relate to it, you start to understand that you're not alone with them."

Now completely on top of here, I could see every micro reaction she had to me and my words. Had I crushed on her so badly myself before the fanfiction that I didn't realize how obviously she felt for me?

"I'm sorry I took that away from you," I whispered, knuckles brushing over her cheek and feeling the heat of embarrassment on them.

"You probably think I'm pathetic. Come on, say it. I can handle it," she urged for my rejection, but I wouldn't give it to her.

"I think you're the most real person I've ever met, [y/n]. People, including myself, hide their guilty pleasures away from everyone. We're taught who we can and cannot be and how much we are allowed to dream by society without feeling guilty.

"You just continued to dream with a username and a little jackalope bunny profile picture and decided to share your pleasures with others so they can dream as well. Without feeling guilt."

"You're romanticizing how weird our situation is," she mumbled, thinking I didn't notice her back arching so she'd be closer to me.

"It's a guilty pleasure of mine, then. Because I also enjoyed your fantasies more than I should've," I admitted, her eyes searching her face for a lie she wouldn't find.

"That almost sounds like you enjoyed reading about us being together," she whispered.

"What if I did?" I exhorted.

She swallowed thickly, licking her beautiful lips. "Then you're really playing with my fantasies right now."

I stood up, giving her her personal space back. I was not manipulating more of this situation. I knew my words and the effect they had on her. The next step had to come from her.

And if it wouldn't come, I would accept it as well.

Grabbing my jacket, I used it to hide away just how badly I wanted this situation to turn into more and walked to the bathroom.

After a cold shower that only barely helped, I dressed in my pajama pants and an old shirt, laying out my too-big, oversized hoodie for her to wear.

If nothing else, hopefully, it would smell like her in the morning.

"You can have the bed. I'll sleep on the couch," I told her, putting a blanket and pillow on the couch. Before she could protest, I told her, "It's only one night on the couch. No big deal. Take the bed."

She nodded, eyes gliding over my body, goggling a little since she'd never seen me dressed in less and as casually as this.

"Okay, Uhm... Thank you for the food and drinks," she said, taking in one last look and leaving me alone in the living room.

*****

☁︎ POV: [y/n] ☁︎

A quick shower later, I was dressed solely in panties and my professor's hoodie. It smelled like him, the bed as well, making me clench my thighs together.

I grabbed my phone, opened my emails, and began typing.

***

"Dear, Professor,

I think I've been wrong. You are a nice guy, after all. Thanks for the shirt.

– [y/n]"

***

"Little bunny,

You should go to bed. And please call me Spencer, at least for the moment.

– Spencer"

***

My breath hitched at the pet name and the fact he called himself Spencer Insisting I should do the same.

I was so desperate for this man. I didn't think he was aware of what his innocent words did to me.

***

"Spencer,

I am already in bed. Are you sure you're comfortable on the couch?"

***

"Why? Would you let me sleep in the bed if I wouldn't be?" He called through the closed bedroom door.

"Of course, I would sleep on the couch instead," I called back, a laugh in my voice.

The ping of a message from an unknown number made me look back at my phone.

***

UNKNOWN: "Well, then, I am perfectly fine here."

***

What the hell?

"How did you get my number?" I asked through the door, making Spencer chuckle.

"FBI, Bunny."

He had used his advantages at work to get my number, but I was the one getting teased. Biting my bottom lip, I saved his number.

***

ME: "Now, who's the obsessed stalker?"

SPENCER: "I am not obsessed. I am interested."

***

I was interested as well. More than I thought I would've been allowed to be, yet he continued to play on the same page as me.

***

ME: "That does almost sound like you're flirting, Professor. Do I need to remind you that I humiliated you in front of your FBI colleagues?"

SPENCER: "That's right. Maybe I should humiliate you back."

ME: "By all the things you know about me that are embarrassing, you wouldn't even have to try."

***

I was getting hot. This conversation's undertones had me all over the place. Stripping off the hoodie, I threw it aside, the cold air making my nipples pucker, which in return, egged on the heat between my legs.

***

SPENCER: "There's something I'd like to know about you."

ME: "What?"

SPENCER: "Are all the things in your story based on fantasies of yours?"

ME: "Wouldn't you like to know, Spencer?"

SPENCER: "Answer the question, and I'll answer one of yours."

***

Through my humiliation, I gave him the answer he wanted. Only getting rewarded with wetness pooling between my legs.

***

ME: "Okay. Yes. My fantasies."

SPENCER: "Interesting. Go ahead; it's your turn to ask something."

ME: "Why did you want to know?"

SPENCER: "Because I want to know what going on inside your head."

ME: "Why?"

SPENCER: "My turn to ask a question. Is your obsession with calling Zane your daddy based on your fantasies about men in general, or is it because he's a substitute for me?"

ME: "Are you asking me if I'd like to call you daddy?"

SPENCER: "Yes."

***

My eyes rolled into the back of my head, and I sighed. Clasping the covers between my legs, I couldn't help but rock against them to ease some of the pressure I was feeling.

If I was going to answer him, I really needed to substitute his name.

***

ME: "I thought it was strange at first, but Zane has certain aspects of himself that make it hard not to want to call him daddy when thinking of sex with him."

SPENCER: "Do you often think about it?"

ME: "Counter question: Do you ever?"

SPENCER: "I'm afraid that this story of yours tapped into fantasies I didn't think I had."

ME: "That's no answer."

SPENCER: "Fine. At first, I was weirded out, but it finds its way into my head over and over again."

SPENCER: "Why that guy?"

***

In which universe could I have the luck of my professor being jealous over my choice to have sex with another man?

Grinding harder against the covers, I wondered if he felt like me, wanted it as badly.

***

ME: "I'm tired of waiting, and romance clearly doesn't work since my taste in men is unattainable authority figures that are almost old enough to be my father."

SPENCER: "I'm not unattainable."

ME: "You are. It would hurt your reputation to fuck one of your students."

SPENCER: "You're no longer my student, though."

***

A whimper escaped my mouth, and for a second, I watched the door to make sure Spencer hadn't heard me.

He hadn't, which made me cocky enough to kick the covers away and spread my legs. The cold air felt good against my hot body.

***

ME: "Did the idea of my date make you jealous?"

SPENCER: "I have no right to be jealous, little bunny."

ME: "I would like you to be."

SPENCER: "I'm afraid you're making me lose my mind if I let jealousy take over."

***

One hand wandered down into my underwear. If nothing else would happen tonight, I could at least indulge in this feeling.

***

ME: "Do you wanna sleep in your bed?"

SPENCER: "Don't tempt me like that."

ME: "Why not?"

SPENCER: "Because I'd take something from you that I have no right to have."

ME: "Isn't that for me to decide?"

***

I let the offer stay right there. I wanted him, and I knew he knew it anyway. If he decided to act on it, I would be welcoming him.

As he didn't reply, however, I placed my phone on the nightstand and continued to rub my clit, now more eagerly since there was nothing more to wait for than the glorious feeling of a so desperately needed orgasm washing over me.

My breathing became louder as I tried not to moan, hips lifting. I closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of Spencer and imagining him administrating those touches that lit me on fire.

"Does your offer still—" Spencer asked and immediately stopped in his tracks when coming in.

"Fuck," I gasped as I lay there on full display, quickly scrambling myself up, pulling my hand out of my panties, and covering my breasts.

Staring at me for a long while, Spencer's eyes became darker, his breathing heavier.

"Now, don't let me stop you from what you were doing, little bunny. You seemed to enjoy yourself," he told me predatorial, stepping closer with me caught in his gaze like a helpless rabbit.

Crawling onto the bed, he made me realize the full extent of his pet name for me. "So that's what you're doing when you're all alone in bed?" He asked, and I let him back me down onto the mattress.

He grabbed my hand, forcing it to let go of the try to cover my breasts, and chuckled darkly as he inspected the wetness on my fingers.

Inhaling sharply, he brought them to his face and took them into his mouth, cleaning them from my arousal.

"Please," I whimpered as I thought I would die from excitement.

"You really want that?" He asked teasingly, and I began nodding.

"Since that stupid day, you borrowed me your jacket. I- I kept it on when I..." My words got caught in my through, and another whimper left me.

An animalistic groan escaped Spencer as he growled, "You fucked yourself wearing my coat?"

"It smelled like you," I explained, hips trying to invite him to come closer. "I- I closed my eyes and imagined it to be you touching me."

"Can I kiss you?" He questioned, eyes carefully searching for my consent.

I nodded eagerly. "You can do whatever you want to me."

The second his lips collided with mine, I thought I had died and gone straight to heaven. He was careful at first, but it wasn't long until he couldn't hold back his lust anymore.

As his tongue swapped over my bottom lip, I allowed it into my mouth. Meanwhile, he gently pressed me against the mattress, one leg between mine, putting pressure exactly where I needed it so desperately.

"Oh my God," I whimpered into the kiss, and he backed away. His lips were flushed from our kisses, but that didn't stop the cocky smile of his from spreading on them.

"And there I thought you'd just call me Daddy," he chuckled, moving a hand between my legs, touching me over my soaked through underwear. "Oh, wow. You're dripping, my little bunny. Is that all for me?"

I nodded, rubbing myself against his hand. "All yours."

Spencer got off me, grabbing my underwear, waiting for me to lift my ass and allow him to take it off. As I did, he pulled it down with such a hurried force the flimsy material ripped, making us both laugh gently as he threw it over his shoulder.

"Did you ever have somebody go down on you?" He asked, pressing a kiss onto my knee and lowering himself between my legs.

Propping myself up on my elbows, I shook my head. "You- You don't have to. I know it's more of a women's fantasy that-"

Spencer interrupted me, kissing my inner thigh, "Don't stop me unless you don't want me to touch you, okay?"

I nodded, letting him guide me back down. He began placing kisses on my inner thighs, and his curls tickled between my legs.

The anticipation was driving me crazy, making a loud moan escape me as he finally dragged his flat tongue through my folds.

Liking my reaction, he did it again and again. Then began focusing more on my swollen clit. Spencer's tongue played with it, flicking from side to side and drawing circles onto its sensitive skin, which made my eyes roll back.

"That idiot would not have known what to do with a woman so gorgeous," he said, fingers moving towards my slit, coating themselves with my natural lubricant.

As he carefully entered me with one, I gasped. The instruction was new, filling me with excitement.

"Is that okay?" He asked, cautious of my reactions, and I nodded while he gently began moving his digit in and out of me at a slow pace.

Tongue back on my clit, he began moving his finger faster. The pleasure I received left me breathless, helplessly clawing my hands into Spencer's hair to make sure he'd stay right where I needed him the most.

As he added a second finger, my hips began moving more frantically, making him start to hold me down while eating me out. I moaned and cried in pleasure, trying to stay alert enough not to smother his head between my legs.

With a final swipe of Spencer's tongue, I came, crying out his name, deliciously humping against his mouth as he fucked me through my high.

As my breathing became more normal again, he chuckled against my skin, sitting back on his knees and taking off his shirt.

I hurried myself up as well, hands quickly all over him. Wrapping his arms around me, he let himself fall onto the bed, pulling me with him.

As I lay partially on top of him, his hand moved under my chin, bringing me closer and kissing me softly. The faint taste of myself on his lips drove me to the rim of madness.

Greedily gripping the waistband of his pants, I tried to remove the final barrier keeping him from me. Spencer chuckled, helping me with it and catching me as I almost fell off the bed while throwing his clothes across the room.

"You are so fucking eager," he laughed as I claimed onto him, straddling his lap.

Kissing him roughly, I rocked my his against his hard cock, feeling the precum rubbing itself between my folds and adding to the wetness there.

"Wa- Wait. We need a condom, [y/n]," Spencer spoke breathlessly. His arm wrapped around me so I couldn't move anymore and make his rationality sign out.

"I'm on birth control. We- We don't have to use one," I suggested, knowing I'd dreamed of this moment in so many facets, yet it was always raw, with him claiming me.

Staring into my face, he became stern, lecturing almost. "I hope you didn't plan to be so reckless with the loser you wanted to fuck," he said, almost like a question.

I quickly shook my head. No. Never. Only with him, I wanted it to be this way. "I have a whole box in my bag but- but I'd like..."

As embarrassment killed my voice, he nodded, placing kisses on my cheek and neck. "It's okay, Bunny. I know. I read it."

Before I could feel any embarrassment due to his words, he grabbed my face and pulled me into a rough kiss.

As he pulled away, he growled with a dangerous smirk, "Daddy's going to come inside you, so you fucking know who you belong to."

A high-pitched moan left my mouth. He'd just quoted my story and looked like it had been the greatest thing for him ever to say.

"You wanna stay on top?" He asked, and I thought for a second and nodded.

"Yes, please," I said, lifting my hips.

Letting a hand glide between us, Spencer dragged his cock through my folds, coating it in my wetness. As his head then placed itself at my entrance, I felt the earlier nervousness rush through me again.

I sank down on him, becoming too eager to think of how much I could actually take.

As he was completely inside me, I realized my mistake, the burning between my thighs making me inhale sharply and whimper, "Shit."

I hid my face in the crook of Spencer's neck. I would've jumped off him and rolled into a crying ball on the bed, but I was too afraid to move. It burned.

"Are you okay, Sweetheart?" Spencer asked worriedly, and I sat back up properly, hissing at the stinging feeling between my legs.

"Hurts," I mumbled. "Didn't think it would be that bad."

Wiping away a tear that had freed itself and ran down my cheek, he kissed me gently before resting his forehead against mine.

"It's different for every woman. We can stop if it's too much."

I shook my head abruptly. "N-No. I wanted this for so long. I- I just need a second."

Spencer nodded. He moved one hand to my lower back and the other to my hair, holding me close. "It's okay. We have all the time in the world," he whispered softly. "Just try to relax. You're doing so well already."

The more time passed, the more the pain ebbed away. I became aware of his length and grid stretching me, how he pulsed within me, his head resting firmly against my cervix.

He was so close to me, stroking over my hair, kissing me, and letting me feel him.

I moved a little, bringing his hand down between my legs. His forehead rested against mine as he slowly started to rub my clit in circles.

"You like that?" He asked quietly.

I nodded breathlessly. "Uh-huh."

We smiled at each other softly, stupidly. And as the lust returned, the pain was nothing more than a faint memory that was already blurred.

I began slowly rocking my hips, his hand still working on me.

As I picked up more pace, Spencer searched for my eyes. "Does it still hurt?" He asked, concerned, but I quickly shook my head.

"So good."

Bouncing on him like a little bunny, my moans became unhinged, fed by his low grunts. I threw my head back just to let it rush forward against his lips or his shoulder, kissing him roughly or nibbling on his skin, marking him with my bite marks.

"Keep your eyes on me, [y/n]. Eyes on me, Baby," he ordered after a while, grabbing my face and forcing me to look at him while he began thrusting up into me.

"Is this what you thought it would be like?" He asked with a hoarse voice.

I shook my head, squealing excitedly. "It's so much better."

With one swift motion, he turned us around, having me lay on the bed. As he began pounding into me, my delirious mind slipped up. "Fuck, Daddy," I moaned loudly, not knowing how he'd feel about it in all seriousness.

His hips staggered for a second, and he met my gaze with a praising smile. "Good girl. Such a good fuckin girl."

He growled deeply, arms caging me in underneath him as his pace picked up again, our skin slapping loudly against each other, my thighs hurting most deliciously due to the impact.

"Fuck, fuck," I cussed, rocking against him as I felt my second orgasm approaching. "Daddy, please, I-" I interrupted my own, begging for release with loud moans.

Spencer's hand moved down between us, rubbing me again. "That's it, come for me, Bunny. Come for Daddy."

The crashing wave hit me suddenly with an unstoppable force. I threw my head back, arching into his final thrusts as he came inside me.

Dropping to his elbows, he kissed me softly, and his thrusts came to a halt. His knuckles brushed over my cheek as he looked at me. "Are you okay?"

I let out a deep, satisfied sigh, "Fuck, that felt good."

He pulled out, laying down next to me. "I know virginity is just a social construct created by men, but thank you for letting it be me."

I nodded, deadpanning, "Charity work for the elderly."

He gasped in fake appall. "What?" He asked, starting to tickle me. "What did you say?" He asked again, not stopping as I laughed. "I think I didn't hear you correctly."

"Stop it," I begged through my giggles. "Stop, Spencer." As he finally stopped, he pressed another kiss on my lips.

"You wanna try out the jacuzzi tub?" I asked, and he sat up.

"How many bubbles do you want, little bunny?"

I pushed myself up, declaring, "A lot."

*****

"How do you feel?" Spencer asked once we lay in the tub, me between his legs, his arms wrapped around me.

I shrugged. "Strangely enough, the same as before. Except that I now know how it feels to fuck you."

He leaned forward for a second to kiss my cheek, then made himself comfortable again.

"Are you mad at me for writing that story?" I asked, not daring to look at him. Should his face give the answer away, I didn't want to see it.

"No," he sighed. "I was never mad. At first, I was extremely uncomfortable, not knowing how to react, but now, I'm actually glad for it."

"It's still weird, though, right?" I asked, making him chuck and pull me closer.

"Yeah," he admitted. "But I can live with a little weird. Normal would be boring."

I pressed the button on the side of the tub, turning the jacuzzi function on. Turning it up some more, I sighed relaxed, stretching. I was sore—a nice kind of sore.

For a while, we just lay there, listening to the sounds of our own breathing.

"Should you ever decide to turn 'Paper Hearts & Printer Ink' into a novel, I'd love to proofread it, do some of the jobs you'd need an editor for, or answer your questions about working for the FBI," Spencer spoke into the silence between us.

I chuckled, "You're not just being nice now because we had sex, right?"

I practically heard him shaking his head. "No. I- I guess I just like your type of weird. The way you wrote about Zane and Adriene... If being with you is like being with Adriene, I'd like that."

"So you're crushing on the fictional character I created?" I asked, turning around.

"I love how she loves Zane, although he's an idiot at times. If you're anything like her, I need you."

The shit-eating smirk on his handsome face said it all. He knew it was a self-insert. He just wanted to play it cool. Dork.

"Who says I'd need a Zane, though?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

He shrugged. "Wishful thinking."

"Now, wouldn't I just make an amazing profiler," I giggled.

"What makes you think that?"

Laying back against his chest, I simply said, "I was right about us fitting together."

"I'm in Vegas until Thursday. If you'd like, I'd want you to stay with me," Spencer offered. "We could go on a couple of dates, I show you around, and we'll test your hypothesis."

Okay. This was a permanent thing. No one-time thing. If I was dreaming, I definitely didn't want to wake up.

"I'd love that," I said, adding sassily, "But I don't get why people love coming to Vegas, though. So I hope you're not planning on taking me to a casino."

He was silent for a second, then reluctantly said, "I'm banned from casinos in Vegas. I- I might've pushed my luck when I became a young adult."

"You counted the cards?" I snickered, hearing him snort behind me while trying to defend himself.

"In my defense, it came naturally to me." As our laughter ceased, he added, "I hope you're okay with boring museum and bookstore dates."

He had read my story, so I answered, "You know I am."

Turning on the bubbles some more, I looked out the big bathroom window while Spencer figured out how to turn on the bathroom TV, putting on an old black and white movie with Marilyn Monroe.

He sighed happily, handing me my water bottle since he insisted that I needed to stay hydrated. Taking the bottle from me, he kissed my cheek and cackled, "And all of this because of a fanfiction."

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #reader insert #x reader #spencer x you #spencer x y/n #reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #virgin!reader #prof!spencer #professor!reid #professor reid #professor spencer reid #daddykink!reid #daddy!reid #daddykink!spencer #spencer reid x f!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x virgin!reader

[spyskrapbook]

"Le Corbusier’s Models of Worldmaking"_ London South Bank University _ 21.03.2023 - 06.04.2023 The School of The Built Environment and Architecture at London South Bank University (#LSBU) hosts an international symposium, reconsidering an exhibition of 150+ models of Le Corbusier’s built and unbuilt projects. The Symposium will take place in: Lecture Theatre A, Keyworth Centre, London South Bank University (#LSBU), Keyworth Street, London SE1 6NG. Thursday 30 March 2023, 17:30'-20:30' Registration link: https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/le-corbusiers-models-of-worldmaking-tickets-592126023877 The exhibition of models is open to the public from 21 March to 06 April 2023 in the foyer of Keyworth Centre, #LSBU.   Since the early 20th century Le Corbusier’s projects have been unavoidable points of reference in architectural knowledge and practice. Their roles, however, have changed historically from avant-garde and polemic statements of icons of the modernist movement, to stigmatised and politically charged constructions, and, in recent years, to contested grounds for reflections on ethical, socially-aware, and ecologically-just practices. His projects, whether built or unbuilt, operate in the tension between architecture imagined and architecture conceived. This space in-between is precisely the quality that turns them into the driving force for progression and reconsideration of the field of architecture. Their discursive, imaginative, and projective qualities have produced socio-spatial imaginaries and expressible fantasies. The symposium celebrates an exhibition of 156 models of Le Corbusier’s built and unbuilt projects proposed for x countries. It brings together researchers, architects, and scholars to revisit Le Corbusier’s Models of Worldmaking examined through various architectural, pedagogical, and theoretical perspectives. The speakers outline a systematic form of enquiry reflecting on key experimental and methodological applications of Le Corbusier’s work, ones that could be catalysts of change or critical reflection on our radically changing profession. Convened by: Dr. Hamed Khosravi and Prof. Igea Troiani. Guest Speakers: Brigitte Bouvier (Director, Fondation Le Corbusier) Prof. Alan Powers (London School of Architecture) Prof. Tim Benton (Open University) Rene Tan (Director, RT+Q) Layton Reid (Visiting Prof. at University of West London). The event is supported by grant funding provided by #LSBU.

#Le Corbusier’s Models of Worldmaking #London South Bank University #LSBU #Dr. Hamed Khosravi #Prof. Igea Troiani #Brigitte Bouvier #Prof. Alan Powers #Prof. Tim Benton #Rene Tan #Layton Reid #Spyros Kaprinis #2023 #Le Corbusier

[redwithjoon]

So exactly how long had gideon been working with reid? In the first ep he already calls him 'boss' and reid was only 23 at the time, if he worked before gideons sick leave he must’ve been 22, did he pluck out the genius kid right after he got his 2039th phd or

#jason gideon #spencer reid #i need answers #i know hes a prodigy but wow #also growing up with gideon as ur weird funky ass dad/prof figure really explains it

[sampigehoovu]

rebirth/never died/coming back to life story arc's are so disappointing. audiences spend time grieving, and as someone who uses all the media I consume to process my own life and sort through feelings, if I've cried for a character death, its just a betrayal to bring them back to life and expect me to shut all the grief away in some unknown box.

#like with Prof X on X-Men 97 5 episodes of constantly being reminded that he is practically dead to the world there is a death certificate #BUT no suddenly an entire episode of him missing his children?? #or when Prentiss died in Criminal Minds helloo?? Reid was right to be so angry #EVEN when Harry died in the Battle of Hogwarts #what a farce and so so disappointing in those moments when he randomly comes back to life cause he had a chat with Dumby at the trainstation #okay I hate this trope and it makes so angry

[nereidprinc3ss]

the masterlist (always updated)

funny seeing you here . . .

all my works are reader x spencer reid!

inbox guidelines (always open)

NSFW:

relax (18+)

whiny and spoiled (18+)

light of the morning (18+)

do you believe me now? (18+)

do you believe me now? | 2 (18+)

do you believe me now? | 3 (18+)

make me late (18+)

in the dead of night (18+)

instinctual (18+)

fluff:

behave

academic failure

finals week

spencer asks you to move in with him

rubber duck

like real people do

better late than never

you and prof!spencer get into an argument

we'll never have sex

baby fever

spencer comes out as bi

toaster waffles (dad!spence)

come on home

strange perfections (do you believe me now? | 3.5)

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut

[reidbae]

Elation

summary: You arrive late to your profiling class, and your entrance turn all eyes on you: Including a certain brunette professor's.

pairing: sub!prof!spencer reid x dom!fem!reader

warnings/mentions: teacher x student relationship, age gap (reader is 22+ and spencer is 32+), AFAB!reader, palming, choking, hair pulling, unprotected piv sex (do not do this pls), vaginal sex, degradation (m receiving), praise (m and f receiving), use of y/n before smut but ma'am and miss during, mild breeding kink, public sex technically, use of a gag, literally just filth tbh, reader is the dom but spencer's kinda bratty/semi-dominant and bites her back, idc if this is unrealistic BUT NO ONE SEES Y'ALL OK

a/n: HELLO i am very sorry for my disappearance and i am very glad to be back! also thank y’all for 200 followers wtf <3 i hope you like this! :) (also see if you can catch the 68 kill reference)

w/c: 4k

You walked as quickly as you could to your class, your heels making your presence loud and known as you held your bag over your shoulder, a late pass in your hand.

You had to finish a test for another class that morning, and, as a result, would be late to your first class of the day, your profiling class. You had warned your professor, Professor Reid, ahead of time that you would be late to his class today, but it wasn't going to make walking in any less embarrassing, especially if he was in the middle of a lecture.

You were wearing a short red dress, that clearly accentuated your figure, and it was a bit revealing around your chest. You were in black heels, too, and your hair and makeup made you look incredibly dolled up. Not that you had anything in particular going on today, but it wasn't a crime to look good, was it?

Besides, some attention from Professor Reid wouldn't hurt.

The man was undeniably attractive. Older, yes, but attractive. You weren't one of those girls who was only auditing his class to stare at him, but anyone in their right mind would take a liking to both him and his appearance.

Not that you were looking for the attention (Or were you?), but it would be nice.

You pushed open the door to the classroom, and you instantly muttered a number of expletives under your breath as the door creaked loudly. All eyes immediately landed on you, including Professor Reid's, but you maintained your composure.

Your presence cut Spencer off mid-sentence, and, as you suspected, he was in the middle of a lecture when you opened the classroom door. His eyes bored into yours, quickly scanning your figure, as you tried to close the door as quietly as possible.

You walked down to the front of the classroom to give Spencer your late pass, your heels clicking the wooden floor, that, in that moment, seemed to be creakier than the door. You felt like you were on a runway with the way everyone was staring at you, and your walk was earning several whistles and murmurs from your classmates.

It was only tolerable because you knew that the only reason everyone was staring was because you looked good.

"Sorry I'm late, sir," you said to Spencer as you handed him your late pass. His face was red, redder than you'd ever seen it, and—Was that sweat on his forehead? Once again, his eyes shamelessly roamed your body, and he had to clear his throat to get himself to talk.

"No worries. I hope your test went well," Spencer smiled at you. You muttered a brief, "Thank you," before taking a seat in the front row.

As you did, the whistles and chatter from your classmates continued, to which Spencer responded, "Okay, relax. I'm sure if Miss Y/L/N wanted those completely inappropriate whistles, she would ask for them." Your classmates chatter dissolved into laughter at the comment, and your face broke into a smile. "Now, shall we?"

For the entirety of the lecture, Spencer's eyes seemed to never leave yours, or your outfit. You knew that it wasn't technically abnormal for him to be looking at you, considering the fact that he was giving a lecture, and would naturally be looking at the class, but the attention his eyes were giving you was too hard to ignore.

After class, you were finishing up your notes as the rest of your class filed out of the room. Once you were done, you were the last one left in the classroom, and you were putting your notebook into your bag when another voice cut through the silence: Spencer's voice.

He cleared his throat, then said, "Do you have any last minute questions for me, Y/N?"

"Oh, no, that's okay, Professor," you returned. "Just needed to put some final touches on my notes, that's all," you smiled warmly.

"Alright, then. Do you have a class after this?" he asked you. You noticed that he was no longer where he stood for his lectures in the front of the class, but in front of your desk, and you weren't exactly sure when he'd got there.

"Yeah, but I've got time," you said. "Why, did you need something?"

Why did you even ask him that?

Spencer's face lit up in a blush at your words, and he shook his head. "Me? Oh, no. I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't be late. If you need a pass, or need me to call anyone, I can."

"Oh, thanks. I think I'll be okay, though," you told him. Spencer nodded, his eyes wavering over you once more, and this time, you returned his gaze, allowing your eyes to soar between his face, lips, suit, and—Belt.

After a moment of silence, you cleared your throat, and spoke up once more. "What about you? Any classes to teach after this?" you asked, resting your hand on your hip.

"I've got my, uhm, prep block until 12 P.M., so, technically not," Spencer explained to you. You noticed the way he paused, stammering in your presence, and the nervous look across his face. You cocked an eyebrow.

"I see. That's good," you said with a shrug. He responded with a quiet, "Yeah."

"Can I ask you something, Professor Reid?" you asked as you looked up at him with a quizzical expression.

He nodded. "Yes, Y/N, what is it?" Spencer returned.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" you finally blurted as you allowed your curiosity to get the best of you. Spencer raised his eyebrows, and, if it was even possible, his face got redder than it already was.

"What? No, of course you don't make me uncomfortable. Why do you ask?"

"Well, you've got your hands in your pockets, and you've taught us that people hide their hands when they're nervous. You're also red, and it looks like you're sweating," you shrugged. "You just look uncomfortable, and I was wondering if I had something to do with that."

Spencer looked down and chuckled. He licked his lips before saying, "Sometimes, I forget that I teach you how to analyze people's behavior. But you don't make me uncomfortable, Y/N, I promise," he assured you. And yet, his hands remained hidden, his face remained pink, and the truth remained buried.

And, although you had a good idea of what it could be, you were determined to figure it out.

"Well, there must be something going on, Professor," you pushed as you walked around your desk. The two of you were even closer, face to face, at that, and Spencer swallowed.

"Y/N—" he breathed as you moved closer to him.

"I've seen the way you look at me. It's kind of obvious. You'd think a profiler would hide that better," you smirked up at him.

Spencer cleared his throat. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about," he murmured as he looked down at the ground.

You bit your lip, incredibly aroused by how riled up he seemed to be by your voice alone, and put a hand on his chest. "I think you know exactly what I'm talking about, Professor."

"You're not that subtle, either," he said. His brown eyes looked down to meet yours, and as they did, you could now clearly see the sweat perspiring on his forehead.

"I'm not trying to be. You, on the other hand, attempt so desperately to bury your feelings, probably because you know how wrong this is. Honestly, it's cute," you said, your thumb tracing absentminded circles in the middle of his chest.

You used your other hand now, both hands now smoothing soft circles higher, just below his shoulders. Spencer's breath hitched in his throat as he watched you, but a small smirk mirroring yours played across his face now.

"This is wrong," he said softly to you. "I'm your professor."

"That doesn't stop you from wanting me so badly," you didn't hesitate to remind him. Your next words came out in a whisper as you leaned closer and said, "It's okay. I want you, too."

That was all it took for Spencer to finally lean in, crashing his lips onto yours, taking your face into his hands, and God, was it hot. You kissed him back with mirroring desperation, pulling his body impossibly closer to yours. That was when Spencer took you into his arms, lifting you with ease, and sitting on the chair of your desk, placing you on his lap so that you were straddling him.

"Someone's eager," you teased between kisses. All he could do was nod, too desperate for more, too desperate for you. He pulls you back in, tongue riding yours as his hands forcefully grip your hips.

You hold his face, pressing him as close to you as you possibly can, and eventually, without even thinking, you slowly grind your hips on his lap. He responds with a whorish moan, looking up at you with an expression that said nothing but lust.

"Oh, God, you're so hard. You like that, huh?" you asked in a teasing voice.

"Y- Yeah, fuck," Spencer responded, hands digging further into your hips.

"Save your voice," you rasped. "You'll need it for when I fuck you."

"Y- Y/N, your class," Spencer reminded you in a stutter as your hands played with his belt.

"Ten minutes is all I need with you, Professor," you smiled, catching your bottom lip between your teeth as Spencer's belt clattered to the ground. "Besides, you can write me a late pass, can't you?"

"Yes. Yes, I can," he moaned.

"Then, don't worry about the time. Worry, about this," you said. With that, you dipped your hand into his now unzipped pants, touching him gently through his boxers. Spencer's eyes immediately closed, and his head cocking backwards ever so slightly.

"Oh, fuck, Y/N, that's-" Spencer whined, cutting himself off with another moan.

"Hm, Professor?" you teased nonchalantly, as if you were merely discussing your latest assignment. "What is it?"

"Good," he finished. "So good."

You chuckled at the sloppy, desperate view in front of you, your hand just barely touching Spencer's hard, aching cock, and him falling apart for it, sweat sticking several hairs to his forehead.

"Anyone could walk in and see you so needy for me like this," you chuckled. He was about to respond, but you quickened your movements, pressing your hand harder and eliciting a whine from him.

"I don't care," he shook his head. "This feels too good."

"Tell me how much you want this, Professor," you cooed softly, your words leaving your lips as a husky whisper. Your hand pressed down on Spencer's hard dick, taking what you could hold into your hand through his boxers.

"I want this, Y/N," Spencer said quickly, hands roaming your hips and back as he spoke in a soft tone. That rosy blush had never left his face as you responded with, "How much?"

"So much," he said desperately. "God, please, Y/N," he begged, neither of you even entirely sure what he was begging you for.

"That's pretty vague," you chuckle. "Tell me, Professor. Please, what?" you snap.

"Shit, I want to feel you, Y/N," Spencer whined in the brattiest tone you'd heard from him, evidently impatient for your touch.

As soon as the words leave his lips, one of your hands yanks his hair and pulls him back, to which he immediately groans.

"First of all, Spencer, don't fucking sass me. Second of all, I don't want my name to fall from your lips until I've got you coming and moaning it. Nod if you understand me, Spencer," your voice rang out in a domineering tone.

Taken aback by your tone, and so not used to being spoken to like this in his own goddamn classroom, Spencer shyly nodded, his cheeks a vibrant pink.

"Listening for once, huh? About time. You can call me ma'am or miss until I've got you where I want you. Is that clear?" you asked him. All this time, your hands had never stopped touching Spencer, and he had had a hard time responding to you this entire time through small whimpers and groans.

Spencer only nodded, to which you shook your head.

"Say it."

"Yes, ma'am."

"That's a good boy," you praised him softly as you leaned in closer, an amused smile across your face. "I'm going to fuck you so good. Is that something you'd want, baby?"

"Y- Yes, ma'am, it is," Spencer's hoarse voice rasped out. "You're sure you want to do this here? I could easily take you to my office, miss."

You giggled at his cluelessness as the hand that was touching him came to run through his hair. Didn't he know how much hotter the risk made this? Your fingers played with his soft locks as you answered, "Oh, sweetheart, you and I both know that you can't wait that long. Besides, I don't care who walks in. They'll see how desperate you are for me, and it'll be you who has to explain," you teased.

Spencer's face reddened as he fumbled with his words. "I- Well- Okay," he decided, because of his physical incapability to say anything else.

"Anyways, if you keep it quiet, there'll be nothing to worry about. So, do me a favor," you teased as you pushed your thumb into his mouth. "And keep your mouth shut. You can do that, baby, can't you?" you whispered. Spencer nodded with urgency.

"That's good. That's so, so good, Professor," you teased him. Your free hand came down to hike up your dress, revealing to Spencer your lace panties, that weren't covering all that much. The view made Spencer whimper out with need, only encouraging you to remove them at a tantalizingly slow pace.

You held eye contact with Spencer as you removed them entirely, discarding them on the desk behind the two of you. Next, you removed Spencer's cock from his boxers, biting back a moan at the view you were met with.

You knew he'd pack a lot from the day he'd become your professor, but, God, to see it in person like this, long, hard, and aching for you was almost too much.

"Jesus Christ, Professor. I've got you so worked up over what should be considered nothing in comparison to what I'm about to do to you," you smirked. You took his cock into your hand, pumping him up and down a few times, which only increased his desperation as he moaned around your finger. "Ready?" you asked finally.

Spencer could only nod, his face a deep scarlet hue, hips bucking up into your exposed cunt. You smirked.

Finally, you lowered yourself onto his cock. You'd fantasized about this moment so many times, and no amount of hours of touching yourself to the notion could even amount to the real thing.

Your pace was slow as you rode him, both hands digging into Spencer's soft brown locks. He lets out a moan he isn't sure how long he's been holding as you release your thumb from his mouth, and his hands instantaneously grip your hips as you start to ride him.

"Oh, God, Spencer, you're big," you praise him as your eyes shut. Your mouth doesn't, though, as small whines and whimpers fall from it, your lips curling up into a smirk.

"Th- Thank you, miss," Spencer whines back, rubbing soft, slow circles into your hips. He moves your dress out of the way so he can see you completely, hiking it up to your torso, and basking in the view of you. "You're so beautiful, miss. So, so beautiful."

All you can do is giggle as heat rises to your face. Once again, you bite your lip as you say, "Fucking my professor in his own classroom. So unethical and yet so, so hot," you rasp as you open your eyes again, gazing into his.

"You look so good," he tells you again, his words coming out in a pant. "You feel so good."

You pulled him back by his hair, exposing his neck, that was now entirely at your disposal, and attacking it with your lips. You press your lips against him with hunger, kissing and sucking, leaving as many marks as you please. The world was going to know he was yours if you had anything to say about it.

"You like how dirty this is, don't you, Professor?" you muttered, as close to his ear as you could possibly be. "You like the fact that anyone could walk in and see you falling apart for me, huh?"

Spencer only whimpers in response, squeezing your hips harder and shifting a bit as you continue to ride him, your pace quickening. That wasn't the answer you were looking for, and once you were sure he wasn't going to verbally answer you, you say, in a teasing voice, "Oh, come on, sir, give me more than that."

The moment you say this, an expression flashes across his face, one that can only be described as pornographic. It's whorish and needy, and you're almost worried you've already made him come, until you realize exactly why he just looked at you like that.

You chuckle and shake your head, unaware that he could somehow become more desperate than he already was. "What was that look for, sir?" You enunciate the word once more, and Spencer turns his eyes away from yours.

You grab his face, turning him to look at you, and rasp, "You like it when I call you 'sir', don't you, Professor?"

"Yes, miss. Very much," he instantly confessed to you. You smirked.

"Good, because I'm going to keep calling you it," you smile, and he nods in approval. Your hips continue to snap against Spencer's cock as you use him to pleasure the two of you completely.

"Open your mouth for me, sweetheart," you coo. Spencer couldn't oblige any faster, and when he does, you insert your thumb back into it. "Suck."

Spencer sucks like a man dehydrated, wrapping his lips around your finger with a look of compliance, incredibly eager to be as obedient as you want him to be.

"Such a good boy. I like seeing you so slutty like this. Because that's what you are, isn’t it?" you tease, giggling. You ride his dick to the top, pause for only a second, and crash back down onto him. "My slut."

Spencer nodded in return, his puppy eyes boring into yours as he gags around your finger. You remove it from his mouth and say, "Say it."

"I'm your slut, miss. I'm all yours," he indulges you.

"That's what I like to hear," you smiled. "Fucking you in such a public place when anyone could walk in. Such a bad girl, aren't I, Professor?"

"Yeah, you are a bad girl," Spencer moans out. His hands move from your hips to your tits, taking one in each hand, and working quickly with them. You moan when he does.

He's not only desperate for you, but desperate to make you feel good, too.

"Oh, that's so fucking good, Professor," you whine. Your movements grow quicker, as you both grow desperate to feel Spencer as deep inside your cunt as you possibly can be, and you groan out.

"I'm so, so glad, miss," he says in, arguably, his most submissive tone yet, and you bite your lip as blood runs to your face, flushing it with a red hue that surely mirrors Spencer's.

"You're so good for me, Professor," you moan.

"Fuck, miss, please say my name," Spencer begs you. One of his hands squeezes your waist again, eliciting a lewd moan from you, and you can't help but oblige.

"Spencer," you whine.

"Again," Spencer moans back, fondling your tit harder with one hand, and squeezing down on your hip as forcefully as possible with the other.

"Spencer," you moaned again, maintaining eye contact with him as his name fell from your lips.

"Yeah, just like that, miss," said Spencer.

As if it's the most natural thing in the world, you dip your head back into the crook of his neck, and begin to kiss him there. You bite hard enough to leave marks, and suck with enough force to leave a trail of hickeys wherever your lips touch.

Spencer's a whimpering mess above you, and as much as you love how vocal he's being, you don't love the idea of someone hearing the two of you, as much as you'd said you did.

The idea was hot, but getting caught fucking your profiling professor by a classmate, or God forbid, another professor, was absolutely mortifying, and not on your to-do list today.

"Keep it down, Spencer. Don't make me shut you up," you warned him between kisses. You bring a hand up to squeeze his neck. Surely, a bit of choking would get to his head, wouldn’t it?

It doesn't, and he stutters out above you, his voice broken and whiny. "M- Miss, I-" but he doesn't even finish his sentence as he cuts himself off with his own moan.

You remember the lace panties you'd forgotten on the desk a while ago, and the hand that isn't choking Spencer naturally reaches back to grab them. Without thinking twice, you shove them into Spencer's mouth, and he groans around them.

"I told you to shut up. Don't think you can misbehave and I won't punish you for it," you spat, biting into his neck again as your hold around his throat tightens. Spencer whimpers and nods, and you were sure that if he could speak, he would mumble an assortment of apologies.

"Tap me when you're ready to finish, so I can hear my name on your lips when you do. Until then, I'm going to use you just as I have been," you smirked, continuing to ride Spencer.

Over the next few minutes, the air's filled with moans from the two of you, and, if it was even possible, you had pushed him further inside of you. Spencer's hands roam everywhere in replace of his inability to speak, and he's as eager to get you to your high as you are to get him to his.

Eventually, Spencer taps your arm with urgency, and you can tell from the look in his eyes that he's close. You look up at him with a mirroring expression, and ask, "Close, sweetheart?"

Spencer nodded with a desperation you'd never seen from him before, and, in that exact second, you pull your panties from his mouth, and discard them on the desk behind you again.

"God, I'm going to cum, Y/N," are his first words. Your name sounds like honey falling from his lips, and you nod just as fervently as he had.

"Let it out, then, baby," you moan. "Come inside of me," you then rasp.

Spencer yanks you in and kisses you passionately, his hands tangled in your hair, and your hands tangled in his. One of his hands moves down to help you along, rubbing hard, fast circles on your clit. It's almost too much, and you're almost too sensitive: Almost. Your tongues dance with each other as you ride out your high, and Spencer fills you to the brim with his cum. You finally come undone, riding him as fast as possible in order to pleasure the both of you, and God, does it work.

When you've completely finished, you pull back for air, practically gasping for it as loud pants fall from your lips. "Jesus, Spencer. You were so good. Did you get off well, baby?" you ask him.

"Yes, ma'am," Spencer smiled as he softly rubbed your back, the desperation that was present a few minutes ago being replaced with a notable softness. "And thank you."

"Mmhm," you mutter as you press your lips to his again. You rest your forehead against his and smile. "You know that, uh, late pass you were talking about?

Spencer chuckled. He already knew what you were about to say. "Yeah?"

"I think I’m going to need it."

—

both requests and reblogs are appreciated :)

—

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid

[444rockstargf]

poookieee!! as much as i love me some subby spence.. im dying for soft!dom spence ><

maybe a little prof-teacher taboo something if you’re feeling nasty 😩

i love a challenge!

"pick me up after school, you can be my baby." | spencer reid

ridin'. - lana del rey

fill out the taglist form! : @thirtyratsinasuit @auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @sleepysongbirdsings @pleasantwitchgarden

college student!female!reader x professor!spencer

word count: 1.0k

contents: y/n is a legal adult, teacher/student dynamic, unprotected p in v, public sex, creampie

you had been taking an unsolicited slumber in the middle of your biology class with mr reid. 

the last period of the day when all the irrelevant tangents he went on would enter through one ear and come right out the other. so really, it wasn’t your fault that you just couldn’t keep your attention on him, regardless of his meek elegance and gentle composure. you had fallen asleep to his soft tone of voice, confident that he wouldn’t catch you as he rambled on. which was why you were completely baffled as to how he had you bent over his desk as he scolded you, your plaid skirt on the ground, hugging your ankles.

you had to admit, the tension between you two was palpable. with such a small age gap, it was hard to not fall for a teacher who had such a close resemblance to a greek god. as good as he was at keeping up his professional demeanor, you constantly caught him stealing occasional glances at you as you walked away from him or popping up in your physical education class, catching you in your shorts and tank top as a thin layer of sweat shone off your body. it was the way things had always been.

he tsked, one of his ringed hands having a tight grip on your bare hip. “snoozing during my class? i expected much more from you.” your cheek pressed against the cool oakwood of his neat, organized desk. you would’ve cringed at how cliche this scene was if it wasn’t what you had been thirsting for all along. you pouted, squirming as he used his other hand to keep your hands behind your back. “i-i didn’t mean to, mr reid. i swear..!”

as you moved, your hips pushed into his ever so slightly. he grinned a little, pulling his glasses away from his eyes and carefully placing them on top of his hair to hold back a few stray strands of hair. “i bet you say that to all the teachers, my dear…” your knees shook as his voice dropped an octave. you still had your panties on, which were soaking wet from the heat of the atmosphere.

he swallowed audibly hard, his breath growing shakier by the second as the awkward side of his personality began to flicker through. “y-you’re a very beautiful girl, y’know that..?” your cheeks heated up as he slowly began to trail his thumb up and down your clothed slit, a throbbing sensation growing in his concealed, starched uniform pants.

you whimpered quietly, your hot breath condensing onto the polished wood. he brought his lips to your ear, whispering in a tone that rang through your mind. “i ought to teach you a lesson for being such a bad girl in my class today…” he slipped a hand into his pocket, pulling out a square-shaped, golden package. a condom. you didn’t think guys like him would carry them around on the fly.

he moved his hand to the button and zipper of his pants, undoing them both swiftly. he tore open the condom pack with his teeth, baring pearly white canines. a white droplet began to seep through the thin fabric of his briefs, revealing his arousal. his thumbs kept a good rhythm on your soaking cunt, starting to slip underneath your panties as he whipped out his cock and rolled the condom onto himself with a deep groan.

your body trembled as the wait became agonizing. you felt so open, so exposed to him. his hands groped and caressed the most intimate parts of you as he lined himself up with your pulsing hole. you desperately moved your hips back, making him chuckle. “someone’s eager, huh?” he gripped his cock with a shaky hand, talking to you as he began to push himself into you. “well i could never deprive my favourite student of something she wants so badly…”

your hands ball into fists as he entered you, inch by inch as he stretched you out until you were full to the brim. you yelped, making him shove two fingers into your mouth to shut you up. your jaw closed around him, drool cascading onto the desk as he started to fuck you. he started slow and steady, his rhythm matching the one of a brand-new metronome.

you moaned and whimpered, your insides struggling to adjust to his size. but surely, he talked you through the overwhelming pleasure. “there you go… just like that..” his voice was low and breathing, your ass bouncing each time he pounded into you. the room filled with lewd noises quickly and you thanked the heavens that the classroom door was locked.

his balls slapped against your puffy clit as he picked up the pace, his fingernails leaving crescent-shaped marks on your soft flesh. tears filled your eyes as the overstimulation became mind-boggling. a mess of wetness and precum dripped down your inner thighs. you felt his thick girth twitch inside of you, his breathing getting louder with each thrust.

“s-such a good girl… takin’ me so well…” his words were slurred and melted into each other like ice cream. groans and whimpers echoed through the room, crescendoing until they reached a loud climax. your teacher tossed his head back as his balls tightened up and sent hot ropes of cum shooting into your guts. 

your cunt swelled as he filled you with his seed, your whole body going heavy as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. you bit your lip, hard enough to draw blood. you gasped as he pulled himself out of you, feeling empty by the lack of him inside you. he flipped you around, awkwardly taking you into his arms and kissing you deeply on the lips, his jaw clenching as he tasted you. the heat between your legs grew to an unbearable state and you wrapped your legs around his waist, kissing him back until he pulled away, cheeks stained with pink.

he cleared his throat, crouching down to help you pick up your skirt. he lifted you off the desk, helping you put it on. he even took the extra step of grabbing you a handkerchief and dabbing away at the sticky mess on your thighs. as he finished, he looked at you and nodded with approval. “you’d better get going. i’ve assigned three chapters that must be read for our class discussion tomorrow.” you groaned, picking up your bookbag and slinging it over your shoulder. he chuckled, kissing you on the cheek and bringing his lips to your ear. “until next time, my dear.”

author's note: stream karma by jojo siwa

#mgg #mgg pics #mgg x reader #mgg fanfiction #mgg smut #doctor spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #whoisspence #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer ried #dr spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler edit #matthew gray gubler pics #matthew gray gubler x reader #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #444rockstargf

[imagining-in-the-margins]

hi!! do you have any fic recs for non-bau!reader x spencer? i’m not too picky just would love to read about navigating a domestic relationship with an agent while being entirely NOT in that field! so maybe something fluffy (but never opposed to smutty). thank you in advanced 🧚‍♀️

Hey friend! I've compiled most of my Civilian!Reader fics here, although I will say not a lot of them focus on the difficulties navigating the job. For that, you'll find the most luck with my two most popular series below. Otherwise, it's a somewhat eclectic group of fics, which I hope you can still enjoy ❤️

If anyone has any favorite fics that the anon might be interested in, please share them in the comments or reblogs! Self-promotion is always welcome!

S.R. Series (NSFW, 18+ MINORS DNI)

The Birds & The Bees (ongoing series): Prof!Spencer, Virgin!Reader. Reader interviews for a position as Dr. Spencer Reid’s Teaching Assistant, and Spencer learns something special about her.

Here to Misbehave (completed series): Spencer meets a girl he can’t get enough of at the nightclub, then quickly realizes she is not supposed to be there.

S.R. SFW Oneshots

Dead Air: Professor Reid is hesitant to be a guest on his old student’s true crime video series, but is surprised to find it’s not so bad.

Defining Family: Spencer finds out he’s a dad… to a twelve year old girl. Your twelve year old girl, who just broke into the FBI.

Devil’s Advocate: Spencer’s been hooking up with the defense attorney in secret. At some point what was purely physical turned into something else.

Fairytales: Spencer comes home to his very tired wife and even more tired child who refused to go to bed without a bedtime story from their dad.

Funny Thing Fate: Autistic!Reader is tipsy and lost in D.C. when she spots a man she thinks might be able to help.

Haunted: Spencer’s never told anyone what happened in prison.

Growing Pains: Spencer finds unfamiliar lingerie in the laundry. When he confronts his wife, he learns it belongs to their teenage daughter.

Intentions: Spencer’s teenage daughter wants to have a conversation with you about your intentions with her father.

It’s Personal: Reader reminds Spencer’s team that it’s never appropriate to ask someone for their age, even if they’re dating their coworker.

Java Jive: Spencer and Emily take a break at the local coffee shop and she makes an understandable mistake about barista Reader and Spencer’s relationship.

Kitten Love: Spencer’s vet begrudgingly agrees to an emergency house call.

Maddening One, My Goddess: Spencer has a one night stand… on February 13th. The next day, he is confronted with a familiar face on his pre-planned double date.

Not Your Backup: Spencer and JJ argue about her jealousy of his girlfriend.

Quid Pro Quo: Spencer is entranced by the law student in his class.

Rib Cage: Spencer realizes Reader is the one, but it might be too late. He has to find her.

Serendipitous: Spencer’s pretty sure Penelope mixed up his blind date.

Stranger Danger: Reader is a single mother having a very bad day.

Style Theory: Fashion student Reader meets their favorite scholar and teaches him a lesson in self-love.

The Perfect Plan: Reader has a question for Spencer, but things don’t go according to plan.

The Prodigy Path: At a parent teacher conference, Spencer and Reader explain their seemingly unorthodox parenting style.

S.R. SFW Blurbs

At Ease: Spencer comes home to his partner and finds them still asleep.

Birthday Wish: Spencer is sad he can’t reach you on his birthday.

Favorite Person: Reader just needs a little extra reassurance sometimes.

S.R. NSFW Oneshots (18+, MINORS DNI)

Big Bad Wolf (Part 1, Part 2): Spencer is overwhelmed by the apparent innocence of an elementary school teacher he meets on a case.

Blush: Spencer finds something surprising in his girlfriend’s sock drawer after he’s released from prison.

Cupid & Psyche: Reader and Spencer get kidnapped by a rather romantic matchmaking unsub who demands they perform for him.

Devil in the Backseat: Reader is a little too much (and Spencer's into it).

Get Lucky: It’s 3AM and a pipe burst in Reader’s apartment. She is soaked, angry, and forgot her wallet and phone. Her neighbor Spencer tries his best to make the night not terrible.

I Like It Like That: Spencer is jealous after a rowdy party.

Kiss ’n Tell: Reader gets drunk on a night out with the girls and accidentally mimics her boyfriend’s habit of oversharing.

My Boss’s Daughter: Spencer’s fling with his boss’s daughter is definitely going to get him fired.

Relief in Regrets: Spencer turns to his ex-girlfriend in a time of need.

Rewrapped: Reader tries to be cheeky, but regrets it a little too late to do anything about it.

Rodeo Show: Spencer and Reader weren’t planning on having an audience that morning.

Schrödinger’s Relationship (Part 1, Part 2): Reader finds out Spencer has been dating a kind and cute woman (when he’s not spending the night at her house).

Study Session: Spencer really hates his student, but he can’t resist her.

Vienna: Spencer is a bona fide 40-year-old virgin. After a few months of dating Reader, he finally decides he wants to change that.

Yellow Light: Everyone thinks Reader is dangerous. Probably because she’s Cat’s sister. But is that why Spencer likes her?

Happy reading!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #answer #answered

[alovesongtheywrote]

Nightmare Academia - Masterlist

You and Spencer are rival professors at a university. Hijinks ensue

Part 1 - Have you ever seen the tiktok where that guy brings a typewriter to his class because his prof doesn't allow laptops? Yeah, it's that, but you are the source of the typewriters. In other words, you're Reid's worst nightmare.

Part 2 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia: Reid's proper response to the typewriter incident(s)

Part 3 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia: 1000 words of Reid scheming against the reader with the help of some familiar faces!

Part 4 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia: the outcome of Spencer's most recent prank- and the Reader's well deserved revenge

Part 5 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, the prank war continues- you steal Spencer's mugs, he uses one of your worst fears against you, and you're both dicks to each other

Part 6 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, Morgan and Garcia hijack a prank.

Part 7 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, Reid and the Reader shut down a party, hold hands, and lie to the police. Not in that order.

Part 8 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, things go south. (Doubt comes in.)

Part 9 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, the reader meets the team and the world crashes and burns.

Part 10 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, Spencer gets what he deserves and then some.

Part 11 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, Spencer gets stabbed.

Part 12 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, Spencer goes to the hospital, and you fill out paperwork.

Part 13 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, Spencer makes up for past mistakes and you take him home.

Part 14 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, someone shit-talks Star Trek.

Part 15 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, a prank has unforeseen consequences.

Part 16 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, a ghost encourages promiscuity.

Part 16.5 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, it's the holiday season and Reid pulls a lil prank.

Part 17 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, your author presents you a series of vignettes about you and Reid sharing an office. In other words- you and Reid share an office. Shenanigans ensue.

Part 18 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, Reid fixes your mistakes and you get all blushy about it.

Part 19 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, somebody dies, somebody leaves, and somebody ends up alone.

Part 20 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, you and Spencer are separated. Neither of you take it well.

Part 21 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, a community recuperates and Spencer comes back to you.

Part 22 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, you and Reid reunite. And you get a little tipsy.

Part 23 - In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, case stuff ensues and you prepare for heartbreak.

#nightmare academia #x reader #masterlist

[bracketsoffear]

Eye Avatar Bracket Lineup Round 1

Cecil Palmer vs. Lemony Snicket

Apollo Justice vs. Mike Wazowski

GLaDOS vs. Janet

Harry duBois vs. Futaba Sakura

Rachel Elizabeth Dare vs. Santa Claus

Kyoko Kirigiri vs. Ivy Alexandria

Prof. Brian O'Blivion vs. Sunset Shimmer

L vs. Dipper Pines

Doc Scratch vs. Sauron

Columbo vs. Jadis

TBH Creature/Yippee vs. Big Brother

Barbara 'Oracle' Gordon vs. Dib Membrane

Sherlock Holmes vs. Matilda

Guinan vs. Arthur Lester

Spencer Reid vs. Donna Noble/The DoctorDonna

Uatu the Watcher vs. Nikignik 100 Eyes in the Dark

Round 1 will close in 24 hours.

#Eye Poll #the magnus archives #lineup #welcome to night vale #a series of unfortunate events #ace attorney #monsters inc #portal #the good place #disco elysium #persona 5 #percy jackon and the olympians #christmas #danganronpa #the mechanisms #videodrome #my little pony #death note #gravity falls #homestuck #lord of the rings #columbo #kill six billion demons #tbh creature #1984 #dc comics #invader zim #sherlock holmes #matilda #star trek

[chaotic-archaeologist]

Tips for finding/writing a research paper? From a spoonie who's gone through 2 pages of suggestions their professor has rejected willing to pick anything at this point even if i'm stuck with it another 8 weeks

The first and best advice I can give you is go to this professor's office hours. What determines a good topic for a research paper is highly dependent on whatever the class is and the professor teaching it. This prof should be willing to work with you to guide you in the right direction.

If they've given you feedback on why your suggestions have been rejected, you need to keep those in mind when proposing something else. The process might not be about coming up with an entirely new idea, but tweaking a preexisting one so that it meets the parameters. Look at the syllabus and any assignment briefs the professor has given you to make sure you're hitting all of the requirements.

Additionally, if your disability is part of what's making this difficult, you might consider bringing that up. You don't have to disclose the exact nature of your disability, but if you can articulate the effect it's having on you (makes it difficult for me to do xyz) it might help this professor support you. A plan for completing this paper can include steps that would help you like accountability check ins or extended deadlines.

All of that being said, a good undergraduate level research paper needs two things: 1) an existing body of literature/source material, and 2) a hypothesis that can be applied to multiple pieces of media from that genre. From there, you need to show you can apply broad theoretical concepts to multiple sources, using analysis to construct an argument based on your hypothesis.

I would advise against just picking a topic to get it over with. Writing about something you're not at least a little bit interested in makes the process much harder. Interest also provides a sense of focus that can be vital for the analysis part of research—you need that focus to hone in on something and come up with ideas.

-Reid

#he speaks #academic advice

[sixofpomegranates]

The Dove and the Agent | Ch. 31

🕊 Story Masterlist  | 18+ | AO3 | Wattpad 🕊

🔙 Previous Chapter

Chapter CW: Mentions of anxiety/food-alcohol+consumption, jealousy, pining, exes, friends with benefits, Van Gogh,

A/N: Hi! Sorry that it's been so long! As you may have hurt: I published my first NOVEL! (Big thanks to those who told me to unalive myself for publishing it) The Link is in my profile!!

I hope you enjoy the new chapter, and tell me how you like the new cover!

"Do you know that it is very, very necessary for honest people to remain in art? Hardly anyone knows that the secret of beautiful work lies to a great extent in truth and sincere sentiment."

— Vincent Van Gogh

✿ Dove's POV ✿

Today? A total success — I mean, as much as a funeral can be one...

Spencer seemed so happy at the end, even dancing to a song. Not even to mention that he said that I was now his favorite person.

I did not cry because of it, but I definitely wanted to.

I had never been somebody's favorite anything before. I like to think that maybe I would've been Ellie's, but she never understood what I meant with the whole "favorite person" notion of mine... To be fair, I overthink all of it too much anyway.

When the guest had left, and solely the team and I were left at the funeral home, we helped clean up. Afterward, as we actually wanted to go home, Rossi invited us back to his mansion since tomorrow Alex Blake, Aaron Hotchner, and Kate Callahan would be leaving again.

I was a little tired, my batteries drained from all the human interactions, but as I saw how excited Professor Reid seemed, I agreed to it.

It was a lovely, warm evening, so we sat outside in the garden, Penelope and Krystall mixing cocktails for us. I sat next to my Professor, simply listening to the ongoing conversations.

"Here, Kitten," Penelope said, handing me a deep red drink in a sugar-rimmed glass.

"Thanks," I chirped in reply, feeling Spencer eyeing the cocktail. I held it to him, offering him a sip, but he instantly declined, mumbling something about something that red, not seeming healthy.

"So, Dove. You're still in college?" Blake asked me as the previous conversation had died down.

I wasn't exactly excited about having to talk about myself since it wasn't like I had anything interesting to tell, but I nodded, "Yeah. Uhm, I will graduate in July and then directly start my FBI training."

Hotch raised his eyebrows, asking fatherly, "You already got some firearm training?"

Shaking my head, I began fidgeting with my fingers, a little embarrassed, "No. B-But Professor Reid said he'd take me to a shooting range."

As my nervous gaze met Spencer's, he scrunched his nose and grinned at me.

The former BAU Chief nodded, "Okay, the first thing you should learn is not to be afraid of the gun in your hands while also treating it with the uppermost respect. It may be just an inanimate object, but in this job, it is also your partner." While taking a sip from his scotch, he snickered, "Spencer needed years not to get scared by his gun. He even failed his firearms qualification exam in the beginning."

Licking his lips as all laughed, Spencer said, "And now I carry two guns and am an excellent shoot."

Drinking from my cocktail, I was hit with a nice sweetness through and through. It was probably one of those cocktails that hid away just how alcoholic they were—dangerous stuff.

"You like it?" Krystall asked, and I nodded. "It's Pomegranate syrup," Penny explained to the group so everyone having a drink would know.

Leaning over, Spencer whispered into my ear, "Careful, Sweetheart, else you might end up having to spend six months a year in the underworld."

I giggled, looking at him, "Say what you want, but Hades and Persephone had the most unproblematic relationship in all of the Greek pantheon."

He shrugged. "It's not like Zeus made that a difficult task."

Nodding, I giggled, "Yeah, Zeus's a slut." He looked at me, appalled. "Dove." "What? Am I wrong?" I asked, blinking innocently, making him chuckle.

"Who's a slut?" Penelope asked loudly, having parts of our private whispers announced to the whole table.

I quickly shook my head, cheeks starting to become hot as hell. I didn't have the means to explain my unfunny jokes. "Oh, no one. It's nothing."

Tara raised her eyebrows and Emily asked teasingly, "Were we interrupting the fun?"

I quickly shook my head, physically scooting a little away from Spencer while taking a sip from my drink. The awkward silence solely seemed to be noticed by me, but God, the moment was awkward.

Spencer seemed to catch a glimpse of my discomfort, asking Alex quickly, "How's work going?" Turning to me, he explained, "Blake is a professor at Harvard."

"Harvard?" I asked, surprised, feeling my silly little heartstrings being pulled by something I couldn't describe as anything other than melancholia.

The brunette nodded. "Linguistics."

"I always wanted to go to Harvard; they have a great art program," I overshared.

"Can't imagine a smart girl like you didn't get accepted," Aaron said.

I quickly shook my head. "Oh, I did. I actually got accepted by a couple of Ivy League Colleges. I- I just went to Georgetown so I could study with my cousin together."

Ellie. A stinging in my heart, that most certainly had shown in my voice, reminded me so suddenly of her.

Why didn't I think of her lately? What friend was I to just live my life as though my best friend didn't die only a couple of months ago?

Spencer's hand wrapped around my thigh, squeezing it. That guy was reading my mind, I swear.

"You switched majors at Georgetown too," he said, directing the subject into safer waters before I would drown. "Only the final exam was missing to get your title of Master of Fine Arts, right, little bird?"

Kate frowned. "I'm sorry, but how did you go from art to psychology? Not really understandable for me."

"Oh, Uhm, my mom wanted me to change majors because she worried being an Art Major wouldn't get me a real job."

"You know, if you really had all your hours and exams until that, you could ask if you can take the finals with the other students at the end of the semester and get your diploma," Alex informed me.

"Really?" I asked, intrigued and surprised. "Doesn't- Doesn't that mess with my other exams?"

"Only if it's too much for you to learn."

I quickly shook my head, laying one hand on Spencer's and wrapping the other around his wrist.

He chuckled softly as I giggled. "Oh, no. I know that stuff by heart."

"187?" Kate asked. "126," I replied.

"Do you want me to write the dean about it?" my Professor suggested.

I had always wanted to be an artist... Yes, painting and creating art still made me one, but there was something so special to me about having a diploma in the one and only thing I had ever chosen for myself.

My whole life was built on the unsteady ground of academic pressure. My worth was my grades. My hobbies were studying to improve my grades. My mother always discredited my art as a waste of time.

My hobby now academically titling me an artist would prove my mother wrong. It would be something solely for me, something she could never attribute to herself.

This title would be mine.

"Yeah," I whispered.

Spencer smiled. "Sure?"

I nodded. Mom would either don't care or absolutely hate this. She liked to be involved in my academic decisions. "Uh-huh. I want that."

"Look at you, making decisions for yourself," he praised me gently. "Gonna talk to the dean first thing on Monday. Promise."

We smiled at each other, and he squeezed my thigh again. Alex cleared her throat, making us look at her. She took a sip from her beer, smiling at my Professor. "So, Spence, are you seeing somebody at the moment?"

Spencer quickly removed his hand from my thigh, licking his lips which parted into a coy grin. I knew he had no girlfriend, but my wrongly-wired brain still felt anxious about his answer.

He chuckled. "No. No, not at all."

"And you, Dove?" Alex asked.

A very loud laugh escaped me, startling me completely. I quickly shook my head. "Sorry, I- No. No, no chance. I am unfit for any human relationship."

"She's also Franz Kafka," Spencer snickered towards his friend.

"I just relate to that quote," I speedily spoke to my defense.

He nodded teasingly. "Yeah. And you have an awful taste in man. Logan is definitely the blueprint for idiots worldwide."

"Yeah, so? I- Jake's nice, though," I stammered, making him raise his brows. "I was just teasing you a bit, little bird," he said."I didn't know you were still talking to Jake..."

I shrugged, staring down into my drink. I needed to have it sound casual, normal. "I- We're still talking... Kinda. At least once I have the guts to reply to his texts."

Yeah, now that wasn't a dipshit answer at all. I legitimately sounded like a thirteen-year-old.

Penelope looked at me, surprised. "What did he write?" she asked, quickly taking my phone as I held it out to her.

The table became silent, everyone now seeming to be up in my business. Penny cleared her throat dramatically.

"Hey, Dove. Haven't heard from you since our date, and classes switched back to home office. Hope everything is alright. Wanted you to know I had a blast at our date; maybe we could do it again? - J"

I hadn't thought I'd hear from him again, to be honest. I had been awkward and ended up staying with Spencer and the guys, joining their gentleman's night, but apparently, Jake had a blast.

"Aw," Penelope squealed, looking at me. "Why haven't you written back yet?

I shrugged, embarrassed and red-faced.

I mostly didn't write back because I was lost for words. What was I supposed to write? As I'd learned, it takes me ages to build up relationships in a romantic type of way, and I hadn't thought there was a connection between us, even after I'd let him kiss me... So I put it off.

"You want me to tell him off?" Spencer offered promptly.

I shook my head. "N-No," I said, taking my phone back. "I... just need time to figure out what to do."

"If you don't wanna see him again but are too scared to tell him, just let me do it," he insisted.

"I don't know if I don't want to see him again."

My Professor's jaw clenched, and both his eyebrows shot up. "Oh," he said in a suspiciously neutral tone. "Okay."

"It was a nice date," I said.

"You said you two didn't connect." His answer had come so promptly that it threw me off.

"Well, that probably just takes some time. Demisexual and all that, remember?"

"He left you behind at that bar," Spencer frowned, almost disgusted. "Didn't even bother to take you home."

"He left me with you, Derek, Luke, and Matt, because I wanted to stay."

Okay? Was I missing something? Jake was a nice guy, and although at times a little petty, Spencer had no reason to be that upset.

As he shook his head, I asked, "Why don't you like Jake?"

"I don't dislike the boy. I just think someone like you shouldn't date a guy like him," my Professor let out, annoyed.

I furrowed my brows, "Someone like me?"

"A smart, beautiful woman that has options. You could have anyone, so why settle for someone that doesn't sweep you off your feet every second you're together?"

"Yeah, because the guys willing to date me are piling up on my doorstep," I deadpanned.

"Dove," he pressed, making me giggle with a snort.

"No, I'm serious," I insisted with all the sarcasm I had to offer. "It's getting hard opening the door to my apartment. Any more guys, and I'll have to buy a super long ladder and climb in through the window."

"Dove, I am serious." "Well, hi, Serious. I'm Dove."

He looked at me, that one vein on his forehead so much more prominent than usual. "I really don't understand why we're arguing over Jake... It's not like I'm criticizing your relationship with – what's her name? – Max."

"Max is my ex. You can't compare that," he exclaimed, making me answer him just as loudly. "And Jake is a guy that took me on a date ones. See? I told you this conversation is ridiculous."

"I'm just watching out for you, Dove." "Well, don't. I think Jake's a nice guy, and I don't care if I can do better in your opinion."

"Dove," he said as if this talk-ending voice of his had ever made me shut up. "Spencer," I replied, watching the vein on his forehead pulsate.

"Guys?" Kate interrupted us.

We both looked at her and then at the others at the table. Derek looked like he was having a blast. Aaron was pinching the bridge of his nose, still smiling however.

Tara and Emily were snickering something behind their hands; then they applauded us. "Brava," Emily said, lifting her glass in our direction. "Encore," Tara chuckled.

Spencer and I shared a look; both embarrassed over others witnessing our nonsensical bickering.

"We should start charging money for this bit," he sighed, resting a hand on my back and starting to rub circles. "I'm sorry, okay?" he said. "I'm backing off—no more overprotectiveness."

It was annoying but sweet that Spencer was overprotective. I nodded, grinning at him. "It's okay. Old habits die hard, I guess."

"I trust your judgment, Sweetheart. When you say he's a good guy, I'll try not to have Penelope stalk his ass."

Derek let out a deeply amused chuckle."Imagine one of us would've overreacted that much when pretty boy had his first little tête-à-tête."

I tilted my head, some of our friends laughed. "Excuse me?"

I was certain I had just misheard that. Spencer wasn't one for flings... Right?

"Everyone has some adventures in their youth. We only know about Reid's because he joined the BAU so young," Aaron said.

I nodded. "So, you know Spencer for quite a long time now?" He smiled. "Since Gideon got him to join the FBI at twenty-two."

Nodding again, I took another sip of my drink. I wasn't a nosey person... No. Not me.

"You wanna hear that story, don't you?" Derek grinned.

My professor answered faster than I could. "No, she doesn't."

The table went mostly silent, ready to let go of the subject unless I'd say something.

"I'd actually like to know," I mumbled.

Spencer groaned. "No, Sweetheart. Don't be nosey."

"I'm not nosey," I answered. "It's just that everybody else seems to know, and I feel left out."

Sighing, Spencer leaned back against his chair, signaling to our friends to tell me the story.

"Okay, so, you know Lila Archer?" Derek asked. I nodded. Who doesn't at this point? "Good. When she starred in this beach-teen TV show, before the Rom-Com with Dean Havans, she had a stalker."

"Yeah, her friend from Julliard. Mom watched Lila's interview with '60 seconds' on the news when I was five or six," I said.

"The BAU was working on that case, and Spencer was her bodyguard," Aaron added.

Feeling my cheeks heat up, I said, smiling, "Okay, yeah, right. Now you're just messing with me. Got it."

I knew jokes like that; my parents made them all the time. It was funny to them telling me lies and having me fall for them. It was like a party trick for them.

"Nah-uh, pretty girl," Derek said.

Penelope handed me her phone. There was an old cover from a gossip magazine.

'A Mystery Man In Lila's Life?' it read. On it: a very, very young Spencer Reid kissing nonother than Lila Archer.

Derek continued the story. "Me and Elle, a former co-worker, caught a very invested paparazzi taking pictures in the bushes when those two were having a little something in Lila's swimming pool."

"The girls in college would have a field trip with this," I said, voice coated in humor. "I mean, Lila Archer? Seriously."

She was so pretty; it actually felt like a kick to the stomach as my brain involuntarily compared me to her.

I held the screen in Spencer's direction, noting a deep blush on his cheeks and how he avoided my eyes. "It was just a kiss," he insisted.

"Uh-uh. Those hickeys said something else, Spence," a woman joked as she stepped out into the garden accompanied by Portia, who'd come home and seemed to have let her in.

The stranger was pretty, around the same age as my friends. Her almond-shaped dark brown eyes gazed teasingly at my Professor, who jumped up and pullied her into a hug.

One after another, my friends left the table, greeting the dark-haired woman. Her arm was still slung around Spencer's waist; his arm was laid over her shoulders.

I got up as well, to be polite, I assumed. A smile was plastered on my face as I joined them.

Why the fuck were they so touchy with each other?

"Dove," my Professor said. "This is Elle Greenway."

Elle. Okay. I had contacted her via mail days prior but never got an answer.

"Hi," I said, holding my hand out to Elle... Purposefully so she would take her hands off Spencer.

Like, seriously, get a room. Just don't get a room, you know?

She shook my hand, smiling. "Hello."

"Dove's one of my students," Spencer told her half-heartedly while walking her to the table and offering her his seat. "I can't believe you are here. It's been two years, minimum."

One of your students... Uh-huh. Spencer, you're missing a few things. I am not only your student. I'm also:

Your colleague.

And your neighbor.

And your friend.

And your fucking favorite person?

I sat down at the table again, not liking that I had to sit next to this woman I didn't know. Emptying my drink, Penelope quickly replaced it with another, winking at me.

"Don't be jealous, Kitten. They're just old friends," she whispered while I watched Elle running her hand through my Professor's curly mane.

"Not jealous," I whispered back, a little insulted, starting to drink my new, more alcoholic beverage.

*****

After two more glasses, it was fair to say that I was tipsy. Elle was nice, one of those bad bitches who didn't take shit from anybody, having completely encaptured Spencer's attention... Making me annoyed.

I wasn't jealous. I was annoyed.

"I totally saved your life," my Professor insisted as they discussed an old case in which a magic trick performed by him had saved the day.

Portia had joined us shortly after Elle, and since then, I sat between her and Penelope.

"Green's not your color. Take a shot," the blonde said, filling mine, her, and Penny's shot glasses with tequila again.

"I look good in green," I informed her, pouring the burning alcohol down my throat and scrunching my nose at the taste.

Rossi had already decided that we were all going to stay the night. Yet, with Alex, Kate, and Aaron here as well, we needed to share the rooms.

I couldn't stop my face from scrunching up as Elle rested her hand on my Professor's thigh. Way too high up on his thigh, actually. Flirting-territory high.

Standing up and grabbing the tequila bottle, Penelope announced, "Okay, Kitten, Portia, let's go upstairs, fill the air mattress, and change into our jammies."

I was going to stay in a room with Penny and Luke. Where Spencer was going to sleep was a mystery to me since he was too busy catching up with his friends, but that wasn't my problem... Just didn't know if I could sleep without my white-noise koala.

Portia pulled me to my feet, and we walked inside. In her bedroom, Penelope and I sat on the bed while the blonde searched through her closet.

She threw short hot pants and a tank top at me. "You think Spencer and this Elle are doing it?" she asked, making me choke on the sip of tequila I had just taken.

"No," I said, irritated. "He- He just came out of a relationship a couple of months ago."

"As far as I know, they're just friends," Penny said, changing into the pajamas from her go-bag she kept in her car.

"They have that energy between them, though," Portia said while I turned my back to them to change into the clothes she'd handed me. Looking me up and down, she added, "That looks hot on you."

In the mirror in the far left corner of Portia's bedroom, I inspected the scratches on my throat. I was a lot of things, but hot wasn't one of them.

We walked into the guest bedroom and let the electronic air pump blow up the mattress while we continued drinking.

"So, you snatched yourself a Luke Alvez," Portia started. "How's it going?"

Squealing happily, Penelope chirped, "Amazing. Like, I knew he's a great man, but now I know know he's a great man."

"Sounds awesome, Penny," I said, having her pet my knee.

"I'm sorry, Kitten. I didn't want to rub it into your face."

"You didn't?" I told her, confused, taking another sip of tequila. "I'm really happy for you and Luke. You're my friends."

"You sure?"

"Absolutely," I assured her. "No matter what my situation is, I would never not be happy for you out of envy."

"Okay, then..." Penny said with a dramatic pause. "We're thinking about moving in together."

"Already?" I asked, surprised.

"Yes. Luke has two dogs, as you know, and my apartment is too small... So now the question is if I move into Luke's house, or we buy a new one."

"That's great. I- I'll help on moving day if you want," I offered. "I hope I'm one day as in love as you two are."

"Can't believe you're single," Portia said. "You are so cute."

I shook my head. "I'm basic at best, and my trauma didn't even make me funny, only weird."

"Don't say shit like that," the blonde scolded me. Penelope agreed. "You are amazing, smart, pretty, and kind."

They passed the bottle between them, and I asked, "Do you really think Spencer and Elle have something going on?"

"So you are into him," Portia said, but I shook my head.

"N-No. I don't really feel things like that. Also, is Spencer, my favorite person, and having any non-platonic feelings for him would ruin that," I explain, blushing.

"What's a favorite person?" Portia asked, making me shrug while thinking of how to explain it without seeming like a crazy person.

"It's like a comfort person, I guess. Somebody who knows that you're broken but still stays. Somebody who makes you feel like you're worth the effort."

The silence between us was broken when Penny said, "Okay. That just killed me." She wiped a non-existent tear from her eye. "Does Reid know how you feel about him?"

I nodded. "I- I don't know if he fully grasps the concept of the title, but he lives up to it as though he does."

"I say that's love," Portia announced. As I shook my head, she added, "That level of feelings is love. Platonic or romantic, doesn't matter."

Taking the last sip from the tequila bottle, I said, "The thing that bugs me about all about Elle is just the same as with Max, JJ, and Lila fucking Archer. They are so pretty and confident and have their shit together. Why is that his type? I'm really starting to get an inferiority complex."

"Two things," Portia said, holding up three fingers but quickly collecting herself. "First, stop comparing yourself to others. No matter how beautiful you think a person is, some will always disagree with you. Secondly, you're scared that Spencer could like anybody more than you."

"Because if he has a girlfriend, he'll stop spending time with me. I bet she wouldn't be the biggest fan of me sleeping in Spencer's bed or him calling me Sweetheart, either..." I said, guilt filling me. "I'm selfish. He deserves to be happy, but it legitimately makes me want to vomit."

"Yeah, it's selfish," Penny agreed. "Thanks," I answered sarcastically. "But Spencer is no better. Why else do you think he doesn't like Jake?"

I shrugged, making Penelope give Portia a quick rundown of who Jake was.

"Oh," Portia laughed at the part where Penelope shared her theory of the migraine Spencer had gotten last week being actually jealousy induced. "He is so jealous. You two are literally matching that one Ariana Grande song."

Both started singing Boyfriend, absolutely motivated and completely off-key.

Wanting to take another sip, I noted the empty bottle. "Not drunk enough for this shit."

"You know what that means," Portia laughed. "Let's go downstairs and get another bottle."

We walked downstairs, about to enter the kitchen, when Penelope stopped us. There were two people inside, talking. One was Elle, and the other person, standing with their back in our direction, was Spencer.

"I'm sorry things didn't work out with Max," Elle said.

Spencer sighed. "Well, what can you do? At least we didn't end entirely on bad terms. You're sure you wanna go back to the hotel? You could stay here."

"Why?" Elle asked. "You offering to share a room with me?"

Stepping closer and rubbing her hand over his chest, she said. "It's been a while. Why don't you just come with me, and we spend the night as we would before your relationship?"

Oh. Portia had read the signs right. I swallowed roughly, sharing a look with the two blondes. Maybe we should spy on them.

"Let's go back upstairs," I whispered, tugging on Penny's arm. "Eavesdropping is a shitty thing to do."

Spencer leaned down closer to Elle, and that was when Portia grabbed my hand and dragged me back to mine and Penelope's room.

Fuck. It shouldn't even bother me as much as it did. Spencer was a single man who was allowed to have as many casual flings and fuck buddies as he wanted to. It was none of my business.

Drunk Dove truly was a jealous bitch.

*****

♜ Spencer's POV ♜

"I can't," I told Elle, taking her hands off my chest and holding them in mine.

Of course, never when I was in a relationship, but Elle and I had made it a habit of seeing each other casually whenever she was in town after leaving the FBI.

Now that I was single, it was more than fair for her to assume I would take her up on her offer and fuck her silly to get rid of pent-up tension, but I didn't feel any interest in her anymore.

She was still a friend, and I had been thrilled to see her since she wasn't the most reliable person when it came to keeping in touch, but my body held no desire for her since my heart already lived elsewhere.

"Can I ask why?" she questioned calmly.

"Dove," was all I said.

"Your student?" "She's so much more than just a student," I said, holding back the urge to brag about my little bird.

Elle tilted her head. "I didn't know you two are-" I interrupted her. "We aren't."

A grin spread on her lips. "Spencer Reid, are you in love?"

I nodded, cheeks burning. "Very much so."

"Haven't heard you say that since Maeve," she said. "Too bad I didn't get to talk to her much."

"Dove's shy and today probably very drunk, thanks to Portia and Penelope."

We both chuckled.

"How bout us having some lunch before I leave tomorrow? You could bring her along," Elle suggested as I brought her to the front door, a cab already waiting outside.

"I'll check if she's up for it. Else it'll be just the two of us," I promised her, holding open the door for her.

"Stop talking to me like that, or I'll take you back to the hotel with me," she warned jokingly, hugging me goodbye.

"Back off, woman. I told you I'm devoted to another," I joked back.

I waited until Elle was in the cab, then returned to the kitchen, where Dove and Portia were in the midst of stealing some snacks and alcohol.

"Oh. Hey, ladies," I greeted them, Dove looking at me shortly with a tight-lipped smile.

"Hi," she mumbled, continuing to unpack frozen pizza pockets and putting them on a plate.

Portia looked me up and down with a smile. "Where's Elle?" she asked, something in her voice almost sounding like an allegation.

"Drove back to her hotel," I answered casually.

Portia nodded. "Didn't think she's your type, tbh, but like, good for you."

"We're just friends," I told Rossi's stepdaughter. "Did I do something to upset the two of you?"

Dove elbowed the blonde gently, them exchanging a look, and then she smiled at me. "She's nice... From what I could see, I mean," my little bird rambled. "Didn't really talk to her a lot; she also never answered the mail I sent, but yeah... Nice."

"Glad to hear that, Sweetheart," I answered, hoping she wasn't being passive-aggressive right now. "She actually asked us to have lunch with her tomorrow before she leaves."

"Us?" Portia asked, laughing teasingly while taking the pizza pockets from the microwave. "Don't think Dove's into threesomes."

I watched Dove become pale instantly. "I'm not into sex in general," she informed her new friend, taking the bottle of tequila from her. "Tequila makes you aggressive."

The blonde looked at her. "Tequila makes me woke."

"Nobody using the word 'woke' is actually as aware of things as they believe to be," Dove giggled, taking one of the pizza pockets. "Why don't you go upstairs with the food and the wine?"

Portia nodded, trying to grab the tequila again, but Dove moved it away. "Uh-uh. I'm cutting you off before you end up in a fistfight."

As we were alone, I asked, "Did I do something to make her hate me?"

Doce shook her head, blushing. "W-We might've overheard you and Elle talking earlier."

No. Fuck.

God, please tell me Dove didn't hear me say I'm in love with her.

"Oh, I- uhm... What did you hear?" I stammered.

"Nothing," my little bird smiled.

"You're lying."

"Just to make you feel better," she assured. "We shouldn't have spied on you."

I stepped closer. Did she know?

"You look pale," Dove mumbled, hand reaching out to my cheek. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just a little tired," I lied.

She quickly withdrew her hand, brushing some of her white-blonde mane behind her ears. "Are you leaving soon?"

I furrowed my brows. "Why should I leave? We were going to stay the night."

"Oh. Oh, yeah. Okay... Guess I just thought you'd leave with Elle because..." Her voice fell silent as she broke eye contact.

"Can you tell me what you overheard?" I asked as it dawned on me that the picture she had of me right now wasn't the best. "From favorite person to favorite person?"

"Just that you and Elle are... You know," Dove said, quickly looking at me. "I- I'm not judging. Elle is very pretty, and you seem to get along well. I just thought you'd take her up on the offer to drive to her hotel together, and yeah, guess I was wrong."

She thought I was having sex with Elle... Which wasn't entirely wrong, but she definitely missed the most crucial part of it all. Herself.

Elle and I? We were in the past.

Now I just needed to convince Dove about it without dropping the "I love you"-bomb on her.

"Elle and I, we-"

She interrupted me, smiling. "You don't have to justify yourself. It's also none of my business who you're hooking up with."

"We're not hooking up," I said. "We did... In the past, but not anymore."

"So you're just friends now?" I nodded, making her tilt her head. "I don't get that. How do you turn that kind of emotions just off?"

"It was just sex, no love," I chuckled.

Dove shrugged, taking a sip of tequila straight from the bottle. "Guess that's the demisexuality for me 'cause I can't separate those two things. Casual sex is so weird to me. I mean, sex in general because but, yeah... You know what I mean."

I nodded. "I know what you mean, Sweetheart."

She shifted her weight to her other side, wobbling.

"How drunk are you?" I asked, making her giggle.

"Pretty drunk," she answered, breaking her pizza pocket and handing me one of the halves.

I took a bite, burning my tongue. "That is so hot," I exclaimed, gulping firey tequila to save my tongue.

"It's fresh out of the microwave. What did you expect?" Dove giggled.

I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against my chest, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Can I tell you something?" she asked quietly.

"Everything."

"Portia asked me what a favorite person is because I mentioned that you're mine, and I had a pretty hard time explaining it..." she started. "Do you know what I mean when I tell you that you're my favorite person?"

I nodded, "I think I do."

Her big blue eyes stared at me. "Can I try to explain it to you anyway? Just to make sure?"

"Of course," I said.

I held the title of favorite person dear to my heart. I was sure to know what she meant, but there was no harm in hearing it come from her heart-shaped lips.

"I'm all ears," I cooed.

"My favorite artist is Vincent Van Gogh," she said.

"Something within me resonates with him ever since I was little. He struggled with his mental health, his parents didn't understand him—even asked him to move out, he was often treated like he was crazy, and he couldn't keep a job although he wanted nothing more than to be needed and do good.

"It already started off wrong when he was born. There were expectations put upon him he just couldn't fulfill. His still grieving parents named him after his older brother, who died at birth the year prior, with whom Vincent even shared a birthday..."

Dove shook her head, wavy white-blond her framing her face. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling. What I want to say is: Vincent Van Gogh had a brother named Theodorus—or Theo for short. He actually had five more siblings, but bear with me here," she said gently.

"Although Vincent had a good relationship with all his siblings... his and Theo's was special. Theo was four years younger, but he was sort of taking on the big brother role. He encouraged Vincent to start painting as he wanted to be an artist but didn't dare to, he bought him paint, he financially supported him.

"Theo would say that he was able to sell Vincent's paintings at his job as an art dealer and gave him money, yet what actually happened was that nobody wanted those paintings. So Theo lied and secretly hoarded all the paintings at home because he believed in Vincent and knew that one day the world would appreciate his brother's art as much as he did.

"He was there when Vincent needed to be institutionalized and made sure he was allowed to continue painting in there. He could've just let Vincent rot there as so many did back in the day with mentally ill family members, but he didn't.

"Theo said that loving his brother was hard at times as it felt like Vincent was torn between two different personalities, but his unwavering love for him always stayed strong.

"When Vincent then was on his deathbed, Theo wasted no time traveling to him and sat next to his brother until he died."

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Dove blinked away some tears. "Shortly after Vincent's death, Theo lost it, having to be institutionalized. He died only six months after this brother, some saying he couldn't handle the loss of Vincent as he was his only friend. It was simply too much. His wife Johanna made sure they could be together in death, burying the brothers side by side in a commune in France.

"Vincent was Theo's favorite person and vice versa. I never loved anybody like that except for Ellie. So, when I tell you that you're my favorite person, I mean that you are the Theo to my Vincent. That I know, I can trust you to be there for me even when I am too broken to be loved."

Dove wiped away her tears; I helped her while blinking away mine. Her explanation was so personal, raw, and vulnerable. I didn't wonder that she struggled to define it to Portia.

I still hadn't thought about how I would go about my feelings toward her. I didn't know if she would ever romantically return them, but I was okay with this.

Pure, unapologetic love.

Her words explained it better than I ever could. Seeing the other's most ugly self and still loving them was special and a deeper form of love than I'd ever experienced.

Dove loved me as her Theo, and would never stop, even if I'd turn into Vincent.

I wiped some tears from my eyes, knowing that I would go through all the hardships my life had given me one hundred times again if this would be where I would end up.

"I love you too, little bird," I promised her. "Always will, as much as you'll need me to."

I respected the wobbly line of platonic love between us, but how platonic was love between soulmates? Was it even to be separated in platonic and romantic love, or was it so much more than any of our simple-minded human words could describe?

Dove smiled at me, stating, "I need a hug."

Within seconds I had pulled her into one. Pressing her face into my chest, she mumbled, "I miss Ellie. Don't know why, but today it hurts again."

I gently rubbed her back. "It's okay. I understand it."

"I know. You always do," she said. "You're my person."

She pulled away from the hug, looking at the cold pizza pocket and the open tequila bottle on the kitchen counter.

"Are you staying with Penny, Luke, and me? We could share the air mattress on the floor," she asked, making me kiss her forehead.

"Of course," I said. "But just be warned that I'm getting too used to us sleeping in the same bed.

She giggled. "Ditto. We're so co-dependent."

"So, does my favorite person come to lunch with me tomorrow?" I asked, making her forehead crease. "You do not have to, Sweetheart."

"Only if you promise I won't see you flirting with Elle," Dove finally said, sounding a little jealous. "That would be so awkward. Don't wanna be the third wheel."

I chuckled, promising her I wouldn't.

How should I even look at another woman if my heart had already arrived, anyway?

#tdata #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid slowburn #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x oc #spencer reid x oc #oc x canon #spencer x oc #fem!oc #spencer x fem!oc #original female character #spencer reid x original female character #prof!spencer #professor!reid #professor spencer reid #professor reid x student #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut #professor reid slowburn #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff

[spyskrapbook]

"Le Corbusier’s Models of Worldmaking"_ London South Bank University _ 21.03.2023 - 06.04.2023 The School of The Built Environment and Architecture at London South Bank University (#LSBU) hosts an international symposium, reconsidering an exhibition of 150+ models of Le Corbusier’s built and unbuilt projects. The Symposium will take place in: Lecture Theatre A, Keyworth Centre, London South Bank University (#LSBU), Keyworth Street, London SE1 6NG. Thursday 30 March 2023, 17:30'-20:30' Registration link: https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/le-corbusiers-models-of-worldmaking-tickets-592126023877 The exhibition of models is open to the public from 21 March to 06 April 2023 in the foyer of Keyworth Centre, #LSBU.   Since the early 20th century Le Corbusier’s projects have been unavoidable points of reference in architectural knowledge and practice. Their roles, however, have changed historically from avant-garde and polemic statements of icons of the modernist movement, to stigmatised and politically charged constructions, and, in recent years, to contested grounds for reflections on ethical, socially-aware, and ecologically-just practices. His projects, whether built or unbuilt, operate in the tension between architecture imagined and architecture conceived. This space in-between is precisely the quality that turns them into the driving force for progression and reconsideration of the field of architecture. Their discursive, imaginative, and projective qualities have produced socio-spatial imaginaries and expressible fantasies. The symposium celebrates an exhibition of 156 models of Le Corbusier’s built and unbuilt projects proposed for x countries. It brings together researchers, architects, and scholars to revisit Le Corbusier’s Models of Worldmaking examined through various architectural, pedagogical, and theoretical perspectives. The speakers outline a systematic form of enquiry reflecting on key experimental and methodological applications of Le Corbusier’s work, ones that could be catalysts of change or critical reflection on our radically changing profession. Convened by: Dr. Hamed Khosravi and Prof. Igea Troiani. Guest Speakers: Brigitte Bouvier (Director, Fondation Le Corbusier) Prof. Alan Powers (London School of Architecture) Prof. Tim Benton (Open University) Rene Tan (Director, RT+Q) Layton Reid (Visiting Prof. at University of West London). The event is supported by grant funding provided by #LSBU.

#Le Corbusier’s Models of Worldmaking #London South Bank University #LSBU #2023 #Dr. Hamed Khosravi #Prof. Igea Troiani #Brigitte Bouvier #Fondation Le Corbusier #Prof. Alan Powers #Prof. Tim Benton #Rene Tan #Layton Reid #Spyros Kaprinis

[leo-gold-hotchner]

Panic

A short short fic inspired from my prof keeps telling me, ‘don’t panic’...

Pre Hotch X G.N. Reader + BAU

“Don’t panic,” Hotch lightly told you as a ghostly smile graced his lips. 

Your defence flared up at your boss. “I’m not!” You retorted hotly as you stood up from your chair. You glared back at your friends, who laughed freely around you.

“You are,” Hotch raised his brow and gathered the yellow folder from the desk. “Wheels up in 30.”

Hotch didn’t even glance back at you as he exited the office.

“Why does he think I always panic?” You let out a frustrated growl as you plopped down to the chair. “I haven’t panicked since my first case.”

“You’re not panicking,” Rossi smirked as he leaned on the desk. “But you worry too much.” The veteran profiler’s smirk was now turned into a smug smile.

“Well, sorry for worrying about our safety,” you snapped at your mentor. Rossi just chuckled light-heartedly.

“He likes you, don’t feel offended,” Morgan grinned. You gave him a funny look.

“At least he didn’t stand you up because Strauss vouched for you.” Prentiss grinned along with Morgan. 

“I still think he thinks I’m not enough for the team.”

“Nonsense,” JJ spoke up as she popped up a mini Cheetos bag, “if he didn’t like you, he would’ve said it.”

“Yeah, that’s more like Hotch’s style. He doesn’t beat around the bush, like Rossi,” Garcia glanced at the older man who gave her a ‘what did I do’ look.

“I still don’t panic,” you petulantly insisted like a child.

“Now it feels like you’re panicking over how Hotch think of you,” Reid commented innocently.

You drew your hand over your chest. “How could you, Reid? I trusted you!” Reid just shrugged. “I’m gonna ready for the trip.” You stood up and exited the office.

The rest of the BAU members gaze at the window, their eyes following you returning to the bullpen.

“F/N doesn’t know what name Hotch saved on his phone, right?” Garcia giggled.

“F/N will flip when that happens,” Prentiss laughed. “How did you know, though?” She asked Rossi.

“I know everything about Hotch,” Rossi gave her a secret smile. 

“You think Hotch gonna tell F/N anytime soon?” JJ asked the older man. “I like the drama, but it’s getting pretty frustrating to watch the two of them tiptoeing each other.”

“Hear, hear,” Morgan nodded.

Rossi shrugged.

“We should push them,” Reid suggested. “What?” The youngest man looked at his colleagues as they gave him a surprised look. “They won’t make a move unless we don’t make them.”

“Hopefully, he will change the contact name before F/N finds out,” Prentiss chuckled as she shook her head. “I mean, who saves a person as ‘panic’ in their contact?”

“Hotch.” Everyone replied simultaneously and burst into laughter. 

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #bau reader #bau x reader #gender neutral reader #Agent Hotchner #dave rossi #spencer reid #Penelope Garcia #jj #emily prentiss #derek morgan #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Any hc on prof!Spencer? Thoughts on anything 🌶🥵 in his office??

PROFESSOR SPENCER REID!!! He gets my gears going. He's so smart and smart is friggin sexy especially when he wears that those dark suits and looks so delicious. I love Soft!Dom Prof Reid as much as the next Reid Girl. But Prof Reid being kinda subby?? Yeah that's hot. Like him being totally obsessed with you. Maybe you're another professor or (my favorite) the librarian for his department and he keeps finding excuses to talk or email, like sending interesting articles, eating lunch other. And it quickly turns into something more fun.

Okay. So making out in his office. He would grow out a little stubble that feels so good against your much softer skin. At this point, you don't really know that he's more of a "you lead, I'll follow" kind of guy, but you tug his hair, leading his mouth closer and closer to yours and grind down hard onto his hips and he whimpers into your mouth. Of course you break apart, completely shocked that that little noise came out of someone so stoic and reserved as Professor Reid. He's embarrassed. And so so so turned on. And of course. That's like the hottest thing.

He'd be so apologetic. Saying like "oh, god I didn't mean to do that. You're just so pretty. And it getting intense for me when my hair is pulled,"

And of course you'd make him admit that he liked when you did that and he'd be putty in your hands. He would look so good with a fresh blush on his cheeks and his tie all undone and his hair completely ruined.

And that sight would totally make you have this urge to see what kind of whimpers he makes when you get on your knees for him. But you'd make sure he knows that just because you're the one on his knees, he's certainly not the one in charge.

#rosie.nsfw. #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader

[reidbae]

DAY 8: Shattered — rough sex w/dom!spencer reid

KINKTOBER 2023: masterlist

summary: You needed some quick relief from your profiling professor, who gives it to you: In the roughest way possible.

pairing: dom!prof!spencer reid x sub!fem!reader

warnings/mentions: teacher x student relationship, AFAB!reader, choking, hair pulling, vaginal sex, degradation, praise, use of pet names (doll, baby, honey, sweetheart), public sex but not rlly, general rough sex, fic is veryyy to the point so be warned LOL

wc: 1.2k

"Wait, Spencer, fuck," you muttered under your breath, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you felt his cock push deep inside of you.

You had used your break at school to go see your professor, who also happened to be your boyfriend.

Your very rough boyfriend.

Your body had been begging for him from the second that you had his class that morning, and you knew you wouldn't be able to get through the day without him fucking that need out of you at least once.

What you didn't expect was for him to be so mean about it.

You were bent over his desk, with Spencer positioned behind you. You were now on your second round, because, it would seem, one wasn't enough for Spencer. You felt his cock push into your sensitive cunt before you'd had even a second to cool down from your first high.

Thus, provoking that response.

"I can't," you whispered in a small, pained voice, your cheeks flaring up with heat at the feeling.

Spencer didn't seem to care about your whines of concern, and only moved himself deeper inside of you, causing you to moan out with a mix of pain and pleasure, and him to chuckle.

"You can't what, sweetheart? Handle it?" Spencer teased you, allowing a hand to close around your throat and squeeze down as he spoke to you. "Weren't you just begging for me to fuck you?"

"Well—Um, I- That's—" you fumbled with your words; But the both of you knew it was impossible for much to coherently leave your mouth at the moment.

"Exactly," Spencer cut you off in a hoarse voice. "I'm only giving you what you asked me for. Now, why don't you be a good girl, shut up, and take it?" he said cruelly, before going right back to pounding into you.

He moved his hand away from your throat as you took him from behind, his hands settling themselves onto your ass and squeezing down. It was all you could do to keep your mouth shut as he did so.

Seeming to be thinking the same thing you were, Spencer moved one of his hands away from your bottom and put it over your mouth, making sure not even one sound could escape your lips. "Keep it down, honey. I'm the only one who gets to hear those pretty moans," he teased.

Your whine in response to that was muffled by his large hand over your mouth, and, like he'd said, all you really could do was sit there and take it.

It wasn't long before pain fluxed back into pleasure, and your whimpers of pain dissolved into lewd moans once more. Spencer only chuckled, but wouldn't remove his hand from your mouth even once.

"That's it, doll. Feels good now, huh?" Spencer said in a raspy voice. You nodded eagerly, moaning into his hand.

You weren't sure what made you do it, but you had a tiny urge to rebel a bit, just to see what Spencer would do. You lifted a weak hand to the one that was covering your mouth, and tried to move his hand away so you could speak.

Spencer's grip was firm, though, and he didn't allow that to happen. "And what is it you think you're doing, sweetheart?" he asked in a rough voice.

You moved your head back as a way to get away from his hand, and this time, succeeded. "Please, Spencer. Please let me talk," you whined out in a bratty, almost snappy voice.

You didn't have to look to know that Spencer wasn't a fan of that.

For a second, you figured he would give it up and let you do what you wanted to do. But when the feeling of soft fabric tying your hands behind your back hit your skin, you knew that that was far from what was going to happen.

You looked back to see what he'd done: Spencer had used the tie he was wearing to hold back your hands, leaving him only in a white unbuttoned work shirt. One of his hands raked through your hair, pulling just a bit to keep you down, and the other went back to your mouth.

"If I tell you to shut up and take it, that's what you do," Spencer said, like it was the easiest thing to humanly comprehend. "Do you understand me?"

You didn't have it in you anymore to deny him; You only nodded your head quickly in response. Spencer chuckled for a second, moving one of his hands down to your throat again. "Attagirl."

After a while, when Spencer began to feel you coming in on your second high, he pulled you into his chest, so that your back was flush against him.

The hand that was disallowing you to speak moved down to rub rough, fast circles on your clit, causing you to moan out with pleasure.

Your expression was nothing short of pornographic as you whispered, "God, Spencer," in a broken voice. "More. Please."

Spencer smirked at you and obliged, doing all that he could to get you to your climax. His free hand cupped your breast, fondling it at the same pace as his other hand did your clit, and attacking your neck with kisses.

Spencer's lips left hickeys wherever they touched as he bit, kissed, and sucked your neck, like he'd die if he didn't. "How's that for you, honey?" he whispered in between kisses.

All you could do was nod in response to that. "Good. So good," you murmured. You tilted your head back to kiss him, your lips meeting each other with frenzied passion. You shamelessly allowed your tongue to explore his mouth, the both of you moaning into it.

Spencer's hands only moved quicker on your clit as his cock pounded into you, desperate to get you to your high. "God, you look so pretty like this," Spencer whispered as he kissed your neck. "My pretty slut, aren't you, sweetheart?"

You nodded, looking at him with a lewd expression. "Y- Yes," you could barely stutter out. "I'm yours."

"That's a good girl," he responded as he pressed his lips to yours again, clearly amused by how needy you were being for him.

Your brain was far too muddled with pleasure to process his teasing tone of voice.

"Spencer," you moaned, covering your mouth with your hand, just as Spencer had done to you earlier. "I- I'm gonna—Fuck," you moaned into his ear.

Spencer only smirked at your shattered tone of voice, chuckling and moving your hand away from your mouth, wanting to hear you this time. "Go ahead, honey. Let it out."

That was all you needed.

A broken whine of Spencer's name fell from your lips as waves of pleasure crashed all over your body, with Spencer moving into you at a speed that could only be described as criminal. His hand rubbing you while he helped you reach your high, too, was almost too much for you to handle.

Almost.

Spencer's actions mimicked yours as he moaned your name into your neck, squeezing your waist forcefully as he filled you to the brim with his cum.

As you both panted, coming down from your climaxes, Spencer pressed a few gentle kisses to your face, a stark contrast to the rough manner he had been handling you in before. "Did I give you what you wanted, baby?" he asked in a soft voice.

You nodded, smiling back at him, and running your fingers through his hair. "Yeah, and then some."

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