#professor!spencer

[mydearzero]

Prey | Professor!Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

PART 2

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You were determined to stay collected and have your professor make the first move. To make him believe he's the one desperate for you. He's onto you though. He knows what you want, what you need. And he's going to give it to you.

Warnings: Professor!Spencer, fem!Reader, Teacher/student relationship, age gap, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), NO Y/N, fingering, praise kink, degradation, dacryphilia, humiliation, semi-public sex, rough sex, creampie, choking, aftercare. If I missed any warnings please tell me!

3.9K words

Criminology wasn't the first class you'd voluntarily take. It was interesting enough, really. But not at all necessary for your degree. 

You loved true crime as much as the next college-aged girl. That's what your excuse would be, at least, when people would inevitably ask why the hell you signed up for the class. But the real reason? 

You'd seen him on campus a couple times, only a semester ago. His jagged yet put-together exterior intrigued you. His eyes met yours, if only for a split second. He was perceptive. Very perceptive.

The third time you saw him meeting with the dean, you knew you were hooked. You felt yourself mouth the syllables of his name. Heard the sound falling off your lips in a whispered tone as you overheard him introduce himself to the Criminal Law professor. 

Doctor Spencer Reid. 

You'd done your research, as any self-respecting student would. He was an FBI agent working for the Behavioral Analysis Unit. He was a proper genius with several degrees under his belt, even when he was your age. 

He wasn't anymore, your age.

A notice got posted on the college's website a few days after your last sighting. Doctor Spencer Reid of the FBI would teach several seminars this semester, with voluntary attendance and limited availability. 

You signed up in a heartbeat. You told yourself it was because he was an enigma, a puzzle for you to solve. His posture, eyes and even how he spoke screamed 'Solve me!' You, someone notorious for your ability to read people, couldn't figure him out. It frustrated you. Everything about him invited you to try and peel back the layers to let you see inside. 

Were you maybe a tad too obsessed with the man without ever having spoken to him? Obviously, but you couldn't help yourself. You loved a good mystery. And this was one gorgeous mystery. 

You tried to be deliberate about everything when you entered the first seminar. Don't spare the professor a second glance, but be genuinely interested. Don't hang off every word falling from his lips but raise your hand often enough to appear engaged. You wanted him to be the one to notice you first, even if it was anything but the truth. 

But Professor Reid was a professor in his field for a good reason. He caught your calculated gaze a few times. Watched as you schooled your expression to perfection. Spencer had to admit, you were good. But he was better. He noticed how your stare dropped to his hands as he moved them while speaking. Noticed how the pattern of your breathing was unnatural. If his hearing was superhuman, he would've heard your heart beat irregularly. 

You could seek control of the situation as much as you wanted, but your body would betray you time and time again. Spencer thrived in this little cat-and-mouse game you'd tried to set him up for. He knew you'd convinced yourself you were the cat, calculated, ready to pounce. He smiled to himself at the comparison. If only you knew you were the mouse in this situation, insignificant and small under his watchful eye. Something for him to feast on.

He'd seen you that day; the first time he was on campus. Captured your observant eye with amusement simmering in his mind. He knew who you were, and why you were here, the second you walked into the classroom. You'd tried to appear confident, sure of yourself, by walking to a spot near the front without sparing anybody around you a second glance. But Spencer saw it for what it was. A nervous but powerful stride of a girl begging for a grain of validation. 

It had been brought to his attention that several girls in the class were only auditing, but not you. You were here for the real deal. You were committed to figuring him out. He could see it in the way your eyes raked over his body, reading his body language with every syllable spoken. You were genuinely interested in the subject matter, even if it was only to listen to him explain it.

He was flattered, really. Although your interest in the professor might've started as superficial as the other girls', he could see himself in the way you lost yourself in the infatuation. It wasn't just his looks that pulled you into his orbit. You were intrinsically aware of the grief, trauma and heartache he'd built up over the years. You were dying to be a part of the gravity that shaped him. 

He could see how you had the power to mould people when you had your claws in them. Though, he wasn't sure it was a conscious ability you possessed. Maybe it was just who you were. You had a need for control in every sense of the word. And God, did he want to take it away from you. 

If he didn't know any better, he'd be afraid you'd commit a string of murders if only it meant he would have to read into it. Consider every detail of the crime scene so he'd have to figure you out. It was admirable; your passion for complete dominance. But you couldn't fool Spencer. 

He saw the way you crossed your arms, bit the skin on your lips until they bled, and picked at the skin around your nails, not quite bringing them up to your mouth to bite them, knowing it would convey insecurity. You were an insecure little girl, convincing yourself of the opposite. 

Your need to understand him and domineer every situation was likely a defence mechanism, but he couldn't judge. Not when your little game got him right where you wanted him. Spencer had to applaud your dedication. The anticipation kept him on his toes every time he set foot on campus. He knew you wanted him to break, to make the first move, and he just might have to if he wanted to rid himself of the everlasting tension that seemed to have taken over his body. 

Fine. Spencer would play your little game if that's what you wanted. 

He saw you getting more confident, convinced he was falling into your trap the second he gave in. How the corners of your lips curled up ever so slightly when his gaze lingered on them. You were so caught up in your success that you failed to notice every action was premeditated on his part. It was only inevitable your eyes would light up with glee and triumph when he requested you to meet him in his office after class. 

You knocked on his door tentatively, trying to slow your racing heart. 

"Come in." Spencer's voice carried through the door. You turned the handle and stepped inside the dimly lit office. 

"You wanted to see me, Professor Reid?" You spoke as your hand lingered on the door, a calculated move to come across as unsure. It was a complete 180 of your usual behaviour in class, but it was a surefire way to let him let you in. You were no threat. 

If only you knew how true that was. 

"Yes, close the door and have a seat, please." Spencer motioned to the chair across from him. You nodded and closed the door quietly before pulling the chair out and sitting down. 

"I would like to discuss your paper with you if you don't mind." Spencer held up the printed copy he insisted everybody hand in. You scoffed when you read the specifications of the assignment. Figures he'd be old school. 

"That's fine. Is there something wrong, Professor?" You batted your eyelashes the way you knew no man could resist. The act of the meek, helpless deer. 

"There's nothing wrong with it, necessarily. I would simply like to discuss the subject matter with you. You sure picked an interesting topic." Spencer leaned against the back of his chair and interlocked his fingers as he saw you smile. 

"What can I say? Your job intrigued me. Though, as I'm sure you could tell from my essay, I can't say I completely agree with the logic behind it." You gave him a small smile to let him know you weren't antagonising but stood behind your choices. 

"Some critiques definitely can be taken into account. But it's been proven time and time again, with every case we solve through behavioural analysis, that the science and logic behind it work. Sure, we can be wrong, even way off. But it's a rare occasion." His eyebrows raised in challenge as he spoke. A small smile threatened to appear on his face as he awaited your answer.

You squinted at his apparent amusement. He wasn't taking you seriously. He knew he'd cracked you when your facade dropped. You looked genuinely offended at his lack of interest in your opinion. He almost wanted to laugh at how easy it turned out to be, to get you to drop the act. 

"Don't look so smug, Professor. It's not a good look on you." You jabbed. You cursed at yourself. That wasn't an argument. You crossed your arms as you leaned back in the chair, never breaking eye contact. 

"I must say, I'm kind of disappointed in you. You seemed to have a great grasp on the subject matter while in class, yet you failed one of the biggest requirements of the assignment." 

You frowned at his words, genuinely confused. You egged him to continue talking. 

"You see, the main requirement was to stay objective. This essay was anything but. I guess I misjudged you. I assumed you were above letting your personal opinions and vendettas get in the way of your academics. Apparently not." Spencer tsked. He was taunting you. 

"How was my essay subjective?" You asked. The more you thought back to it, the more you realized how tainted the words on the pages in his hands were by your disdain for your attraction to him. 

You hated him for making you feel the way you did, and you hadn't even realized it until now. 

"I expected factual work. The only fact I can get from this essay is that you're driving yourself crazy with how much you want me to fuck you." 

You gaped at his vulgar words. 

Hook.

"Don't look so scandalized. You knew what you were getting into when you signed up for my class. You made your bed. Now lie in it." Spencer leaned forward and placed his elbows on his desk, crossing his fingers once again. 

"I think you're full of shit, Spencer Reid." You sneered. 

Line.

"I'm sure you do, sweetheart. And it's Doctor or Professor. I'm not picky." He had the gall to laugh. 

"Profile me then, professor. If you're so damn sure of yourself." You rolled your eyes but looked at him expectantly. 

Sinker. 

"Stand up, lock the door." He instructed. You did as he asked with no rebuttal. He raised from his chair and walked around the desk. You followed him closely with your eyes, unable to predict his next steps. 

He placed a singular finger under your chin and lifted it to make you look up at him. "Good girl." He whispered with intent. You tried to give no outward reaction to the words, but as Spencer had come to predict, your body betrayed you. Goosebumps raced down your crossed arms, and your breathing hitched, even if only slightly. 

You didn't break eye contact, to Spencer's amusement. You really should've known better. 

"You want me to profile you? Sure. In your essay, you kept mentioning speculation. But, you see, it's not speculation. It's deduction. You would've known and been able to differentiate the two if you weren't so busy rubbing your thighs and biting your lips in my class." His words were accompanied by his thumb coming up to your mouth, running it over the chewed-up skin of your bottom lip. 

"You want to know what else I deduced just now?" He didn't wait for your reply as he brought his face closer to yours, leaning in to whisper in your ear. 

"I think you like being called a good girl. But not because of the validation... No... It's the implication that turns you on." His breath scalded the delicate skin of your neck as he spoke. 

You urged him to continue with your silence, breath stuck in your throat. 

"You see, most girls like you like being called a good girl because they lack external male validation. They're desperate to hear those words from anyone. Not you, though... No..." Spencer laughed before continuing. 

"You like it because it implies a level of authority. You love hearing it, especially from me, because it implies that I have the authority to decide for you what you are. And you wanna know what I think?" He leaned back a little to be able to look you in your wide eyes. He traced his finger over your jaw. 

"I think you're a little whore. You don't want someone to validate you. You need someone to completely dominate you." He grabbed your chin forcefully. A soft whimper left your lips before you could stop it. 

"Your pupils are dilated, your skin is flushed, and you're barely breathing. That's how I know I'm right. And I'm not speculating, darling." The alarmed look you gave him did nothing to deter him. 

"Get on your knees." He demanded as he let go of your chin. You did so without question. You looked up at him expectantly, heart beating in your throat. 

"Looks like I finally found a way to shut you up. Though, I can think of other ways. You're going to address me as 'Sir' from now on. You won't speak unless spoken to. Am I clear?" 

You nodded quickly, spreading your legs to alleviate the pressure quickly building. Spencer raised an eyebrow before putting his shoe between your thighs, putting even more pressure than before. 

"I asked. Am. I. Clear?" 

"Yes!" You yelped. A smile that could only be described as devilish made itself apparent on your professor's face. 

"Yes, what?" He asked as he pushed the point of his shoe further between your thighs. 

"Yes, Sir." You all but moaned as you tried to hold yourself up, keeping your back as straight as it would allow you. 

"Good girl." He said the riveting words. 

You expected him to pull his pants down and force your mouth on him, but he did no such thing. 

"You're gonna make yourself cum on my shoe. You better not make any noise." He instructed. 

"Yes, Sir." You mumbled as you slowly started grinding against him. You felt your cheeks get redder and redder in embarrassment. You were mortified at the realization that the humiliated feeling only added to the ease of your grinding, getting wetter and wetter. Your underwear was no longer doing much to keep his shoe clean. 

You looked up at Spencer, who looked unaffected. He put his hands in his pockets and sighed as if the current situation was nothing but an inconvenience to him. You slowly put your arms around his leg as you moved closer to him. 

Soft whines left your mouth as you felt yourself getting closer. You'd never felt as conflicted before. So incredibly turned on, yet so embarrassed to be basically humping his leg. 

Suddenly, Spencer ripped his leg away. You lost your support and fell flat on the floor in front of his feet. "That's enough." 

"I thought you said I had to make myself cum, Sir?" You could hear you sounded as desperate as you probably looked. 

"And I decided I'm not going to let you. Now, who said you could speak?" You quickly closed your mouth. "That's what I thought." 

He gripped your upper arm harshly and hoisted you off the floor. You dared to peek at the shoe that had just now been your seat and were embarrassed to find it reflecting the light, unlike its matte counterpart. 

Your legs wobbled as Spencer guided you to his desk. It was only now you realized the shutters weren't completely shut, light from the hallway shining down on your face as he pushed it down against the mahogany when he bent you over at the waist. Spencer followed your gaze. 

"I guess you'll really have to be quiet, baby. My office hours start in less than an hour." You met his eyes with your own panicked ones. Anybody who did as much as try and look inside past the shutters would see you bent over his desk. He brushed your hair out of your face before flipping your skirt up and examining the sight before him. 

"You soaked right through those panties of yours. Better take 'em off." He said as he hooked his fingers under them and pulled them down. You stepped out of them to the best of your ability.

Spencer picked them up, and gave them a short whiff, before walking around his desk. You didn't dare move but followed him with your eyes, confused. He looked at you as he unlocked a drawer, put them inside, and locked it again. You weren't getting those back. 

He walked back around and admired the sight for a little before he unexpectantly gave your ass a harsh smack. You closed your eyes tightly as you felt yourself get wetter at the stinging sensation it left behind. 

You jumped as he pushed two fingers inside without preparation. He placed his other hand on your back to push you back down against the desk. His eyes were warning you to stay still as he moved his finger expertly inside you. He brought his thumb to your clit, and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from making any noise. The circumstances from before had ensured you were nearing the edge concerningly fast. 

When Spencer sped up, you brought a hand to your mouth to muffle any noise. You felt your eyes tear up at the intensity of the sensation, so you squeezed them closed. Just as you were about to fall over the edge, Spencer stepped away. His weight against you was what was keeping you up. You felt your knees buckle as a desperate cry left your lips. 

"Please, Spencer. Please." 

He looked furious as he grabbed your shoulders, turning you around and pushing you back on the desk. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. He pushed your shirt up, exposing more skin to him. He tugged your bra down, not bothering to unclasp it. He tugged roughly at your nipples, making you keen, and the tears finally spill from your eyes. 

"Not so tough now, huh?" He mumbled as he undid his belt with one hand. The other was still pawing at your crudely exposed breasts. He didn't bother properly pulling his pants down, only taking his cock out of its confines. You imagined you looked downright filthy compared to how composed the man in front of you still managed to appear. There was a stain on his pants from where your crotch had met his, but other than that, he was pristine. 

He gave his cock a few tugs before lining himself up, grabbing your thighs and pushing inside. You couldn't contain the guttural groan that escaped you as the strength of his thrust forced your head off the desk, hanging over the edge. He didn't care as he started pounding away, using his grip on your thighs as leverage. 

You could barely breathe, the angle of your neck not allowing much air to flow. Your ears started to ring as blood pooled in your head, making you dizzy as Spencer kept his brutal pace. You tried gripping his arms to pull yourself back up before you passed out, but hardly to any avail. Spencer noticed your struggle and pulled your head back on the desk. The blood rushing back down, along with a particularly harsh thrust, had you moaning his name. 

You heard his haggard breath as he continued filling you again and again. The sensation of him inside you drove you crazy, the tears from earlier still fresh on your cheeks. Low groans fell from Spencer's lips when one of his hands moved to your clit, rubbing rough circles. 

Just as you'd recovered from your little upside-down stint, Spencer brought the hand still resting on your thigh up to your throat, reclaiming your ability to breathe freely. He squeezed in the exact right spot. Your hands moved to his wrist, not to get him to stop, but as leverage. 

"You look so good like this, like a slut for your Professor. Crying on my cock while I decide if you get to breathe." You moaned as your nails dug harshly into his wrist. You were slowly getting lightheaded again. 

"You're gonna cum on my cock when I tell you to." He spoke through the sound of skin hitting skin. His voice was strained, low moans reaching your ears.

"Yes, Sir." You struggled to get the words out. 

"Good girl," Spencer said once more, giving a few more intentional thrusts deep inside you. A noise that could only be classified as a scream bubbles straight out of your chest when he hit the right spot over and over and over again. He finally released the hold on your neck. 

"Cum." The demand had barely reached your ears as your vision went white. You felt his hips stutter against your own, shooting his load in tandem with your own orgasm. 

He slowly pulled out and admired the sight of you still trying to recover, legs wide open, dripping with his cum on his desk. 

You were on the edge of hyperventilating, all the sensations overwhelming you. Spencer slowly helped you sit up, careful to not let your privates touch the harsh wood of the desk. You let yourself fall against his chest as he held you up.

"Hey, hey. You're okay. Come on, look at me." He spoke softly, in complete contrast to just mere minutes ago. You met his eyes, which had softened tremendously. 

"I'm sorry if I was too harsh on you." He quietly apologized, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks. 

You shook your head. "No, no... You were right. That was exactly what I needed, I suppose. Good profiler." You chuckled emptily. 

Spencer stifled a laugh as he wrapped his arms around you. "Next time, you can just ask for what you want, okay? No more of this little game." 

"It was fun, though. Guess I underestimated you, Sir." 

Spencer groaned at the title. 

"Too soon, baby girl. Maybe clean yourself up before going there again." 

You winced as you felt a trickle of his cum down your leg. 

"Yeah, maybe." You grimaced. You were going to be sore for the next week.

He lifted your face to his, the action feeling a lot less domineering. His eyes were gentle as he slowly leaned in, placing a delicate kiss on your lips. 

"You'll still need to rewrite that essay." He muttered as he pulled away. 

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, hitting his shoulder lightly before giving him a peck. "Sure thing, Professor." 

PART 2

[astridshifts]

Hey siri, open docs.

[ddejavvu]

for mvm, professor!spencer reid & professor!reader having a steamy makeout session before the students come in👀

today is multiverse monday (but i'm on vacation)! send me any au you can think of :)

this post is 18+ (and so are its characters), minors dni.

You weren't sure what felt better, the dizzying sensation of Spencer's tongue smoothing over yours, or the temporary bliss you achieved as you rutted against his thigh. Your skirt already left little to the imagination, but even more so as the fabric fanned over his lap, allowing your barely-clothed core to press against Spencer's thigh.

"Don't get too greedy," Spencer mumbles into your mouth, one hand dropping from your cheek to hold your thighs in place, "We've got a class soon."

"Please," You whimper, gripping more frantically at his face to tug him impossibly closer to you, "'Need it."

"You'll have to wait," Spencer crooned, landing a soft pinch to the smooth skin of your ass that was visible below your skirt, "Y'think you can make it through class?" The words were murmured against your lips, his teeth digging into your lower one teasingly, "Or are you gonna be thinking about me the whole time? Such a desperate girl."

[unequivocallyreid]

Do You Get It Yet?

hi guys!! this is one day late, but i literally fell asleep trying to proof read last night, so… you win some you lose some.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: Spencer Reid is your professor and you really, really need help. If only he wasn’t so distracting.

warnings: smut, little bit of fluff, professor/student relationship, unprotected sex w/ talk of contraceptives, age gap (both parties of age), breeding kink, choking, and some light degradation

this is a fun one guys! let me know what you think!

You swear you aren’t stupid. Really, honestly you aren’t. You’ve done well in school your whole life, not always outstanding, but you’ve always done well.

Right now however, you feel completely dumb. You’re in you third year of university, and up to this point, you’ve done good. Your classes are challenging but rewarding, and you have a wonderful group of people in your life. You have a cat and an apartment to yourself. You have wonderful friends, Lena and Eden, who’ve been with you since your freshman year and who you loved like sisters. Everything in your life was going right, except for your stupid, stupid criminal psychology class.

You should love it. You’ve taken classes like it before and they really weren’t a problem for you, but for whatever reason, you can’t wrap your head around the subject matter at all. Everything you learn seems to morph together and you can’t get it to sort itself out. Your teacher, Dr. Reid, is incredible. He is a genuine genius, member of the BAU (your dream job), and to top it off, he is incredibly attractive. Not just to you either! Half the class is auditing, which probably contributes to your troubles. It’s hard to focus when everyone around you is constantly whispering about how fucking hot the teacher is.

You try to avoid it. You sit at the front of the room, not the first row, but still front and center. Even so, right behind you are two or three girls who will not stop talking about him. Sure, they’re saying what you’re thinking, but good god does it get annoying. You’ve tried pointed looks, a few aggressive hair flips and humphs, and even a few well timed shushings, but they will not let up. You’d move seats but the class is full and everyone has seemed to have already found a place.

So, really, your lack of understanding was not only on you. Dr. Reid us distractingly hot, the girls behind you will not shut up, and the subject matter is just plain tricky. All of this leads you to spend a big chunk of your free time in your professors office hours, which always seem to be full.

You get it. Girls, and some boys, show up looking their best and asking all sorts of questions, and honestly if you were in a different position you’d probably do the same thing. But, you aren’t, and you really need help. You go to his room completely disheveled with a notebook full of questions that for the most part stayed unanswered. You’re lucky to get five minutes of his undivided attention. Again, you get it, those minutes are the highlights of you week, but, your grade is starting to slip.

Finally, it gets to be too much, and you find yourself spending nearly the whole class building up the courage to ask to speak with him privately. Right when he concludes his lecture you spring up out of your seat and go straight to him, surely annoying some of your other classmates.

“Dr. Reid?”

He looks up from his desk, “Hi! Ms.?”

“Y/n. Or Y/l/n, I guess. I was hoping to talk to you privately if you had time?”

“Oh! Um, sure, of course. Let me just wrap up here. You can wait in the seats.”

This has already gone better than you thought it would. Half of you expected the only thing that would come out of your mouth would be gibberish.

“Thank you so much.”

You hurry off to take a seat and wait, and wait, and wait. Around five other people stay around to try and speak with him, and while you catch him anxiously glancing over at you, each conversation still seems to stretch on and on. Finally, after close to 15 minutes, the final student leaves and it’s just you and Dr. Reid left in the room.

He looks over at you and motions for you to join him at his desk, “I’m so sorry that took so long. People tend to have a lot of questions after my lectures.”

You take a seat in front of him, “It’s no worries. That was actually part of what I wanted to speak to you about.”

You pause, wondering how you should word what you want to say. He looks at you, waiting for you to go on, but he doesn’t seem impatient.

“I’ve come to all your office hours, and it helps, I’m just still struggling and I, uh, I just feel like it’s not enough time to get my questions answered, I guess?”

You’re looking at anything but him at this point, “I’m sorry I’m just kinda out of my element. I love this subject and normally it clicks for me, but it’s just won’t. I have a notebook full of questions and I’m worried I won’t be able to figure anything out. Sorry, I think I’m just rambling at this point.”

“No, don’t apologize, I understand. This class is challenging, and a lot of the subject matter is hard to research.”

He stops to laugh, “My office hours do tend to be pretty full. I’m, well to be honest I’m not sure why. A lot of the questions people have tend to be things I explained in my lectures.”

Without thinking, you cut him off, “I think people just want to be around you.”

He looks surprised at your words, and you are as well. You didn’t mean to say that at all.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry. It’s just with a teacher that looks like you, god, no. I mean with a teacher like you-“

Your cheeks grow hotter by the second, “You know what, I think I can figure this out on my own! I’m sorry for-“

He stops you before you can finish, “Y/n, I’ve taught this class before. Half the people are auditing. I’ve gathered what that means.”

He cracks a smile at that and you feel your heart flutter.

“I meant I’m not sure why people would waste their time trying to, uh, impress me at office hours. They’re meant for students like you.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.”

“Unfortunately, there isn’t much I can do on that front. My hours are open to anyone.”

Your shoulders deflate a bit at that, worrying you’ve wasted your time and his for nothing. He doesn’t let you stay like that for long though.

“I want to help you though. Truly. I know reaching out for help is hard and I’m glad you did.”

You look up at him then, “I can set aside some time for you once a week if you’re comfortable? We can review everything you’re not sure on until you’re up to speed.”

You were not expecting that. You thought he’d look over your questions and give you some articles and journals to review at best.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“You aren’t. I’m offering, Y/n.”

“Then I think yes, I’d like that a lot.”

“Great! Email me some times that work for you and we’ll get started.”

~

This is all, admittedly, a bit above your pay grade.

Despite your best efforts, you are not a chill girl. You’re not very cool. There’s nothing wrong with that usually! You’re shy, but still manage to talk people’s ear off. It’s normally a non-issue: that’s just how you are. Today however, you are meeting with Dr. Reid and you are so not chill about it.

You had his class yesterday, and while you feel better knowing you’ll finally have help, you couldn’t focus on anything but today, so you retained nothing. All you can think about is saying something stupid or off putting and having him start to despise you.

You know you shouldn’t worry this much. He’s a professional, you’re trying to be, it should all go smoothly. They’re just the issue of the colony of butterflies who have taken up residence in your stomach. You’re nervous, so nervous, and you are not the type to get this crazy over some guy. Yes, Dr. Reid is probably the hottest person you’ve ever met, but he’s still human! You think… the fact that he’s some sort of super genius with multiple (multiple!) phds does not help to calm you.

Your entire walk to Dr. Reid’s office is spent worrying over all of this. In fact, you’re so caught in your head you find yourself barreling into someone’s back as you walk through the door of the psychology department.

You rush to squeak out an apology while picking up your notebook, but are stopped short when you look up. It’s Dr. Reid. Of course it’s Dr. Reid. You seem unable to be in the same vicinity of him without making a fool of yourself, so why would today be any different. You’d hoped to be able to manage yourself for the better part of an hour, but your professors unbelievably solid back has literally knocked you on your ass.

You do notice a ghost of a smile on his face when you look up, and you’d like to think he’s admiring you clumsiness, but it’s not likely.

“Hi,” you manage to say after a near excruciatingly long silence.

“I’m really sorry, I clearly wasn’t looking at where I was walking.”

He laughs a bit, “It’s no problem honestly. You were the one knocked off your feet, so I really can’t be upset aside from the fact you may have hurt yourself.”

This makes you breath hitch a bit. Maybe you are incredibly starved for attention from the male gender, but the slight affection of his words made you blush.

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

If you were any more articulate you’d be a public speaker, but at least you always seem to make the man in front of you laugh.

“I was on my way to my office to meet with you, but since I already have, you can walk with me.”

You nod, pushing yourself off the ground, then blush again when you realize you had this entire conversation on the ground.

The walk is silent, and you’re sure it’s more uncomfortable for you than it is for him. Any question you had has completely exited your mind, and all you can think about is how good he looks in a suit, and how much staring you can reasonably get away with.

Your first session is sweet. You manage to hold it together in Dr. Reid’s presence. He is incredibly helpful one on one, and you feel more confident about the class than you have in weeks. Before you finish, he asks if you’d like to meet again.

“Yeah, if that’s alright. This helped so much, but I think I still probably need to do some more catch up work.”

“That’s perfectly fine, Y/n, I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

He pauses for a moment, like he’s considering something, before going on.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to give you my cell. I want you to be able to reach me if you need to reschedule, especially if we continue meeting, and it’s a bit easier than email.”

You’re a bit stunned but manage to reply, “Of course! But, um, is that allowed? I don’t want to over step.”

He looks away from you for a moment before replying, “I’m honestly not sure. Maybe we just don’t tell anyone?”

You have to bite back a grin, but you nod nonetheless and exchange numbers.

Although you know you shouldn’t be, you’re giddy the entire walk home.

~

So far, you’ve met with Dr. Reid three times and haven’t had to use his number once. Not that you’d been looking for an opportunity to though! It just hasn’t come up at all until today.

It’s been raining all morning, which normally you wouldn’t mind, but you’re slightly under the weather and the thought of walking to campus and risking getting more sick doesn’t sound appealing in the slightest. Though it’s not normally an issue, moments like this make you really wish you had a car.

You’ve asked everyone you knew for a ride, but they were all busy.

Currently, you were on the phone with Lena, listening as she tries to calm you down.

“He gave you his number, Y/n. Just text him and say you’re sick and can’t make it.”

“It’s the day of though! I don’t want to come off as unprofessional.”

“Babe, again, you have his number. Your relationship isn’t exactly the most profesh in the first place.”

“It’s not like that, Lena.”

“Just text him. Over explain everything like you know you want to. He’ll probably think it’s cute, maybe he’ll even offer to come take care of you.”

You can hear the teasing lilt in her voice, but, still, you rush to defend him.

“You know it’s not like that.”

“Whatever you say, babe. I gotta go, but text him. It’ll be fine.”

You say your goodbyes, and deep down you know she’s right. About texting him, not the shy sort of seduction act she thinks you have.

After contemplating for a few more minutes, you type out your message and hit send.

You: Hi, Dr. Reid. This is Y/n from your criminal psych class. I know we’re supposed to meet today, but I’m feeling like I have a bit of a cold coming on and don’t want to risk walking in the rain.

You: I’m sorry it’s late notice, if I could get there I would, scout’s honor.

You were never in girl scouts. You don’t actually know why you said that at all, but it’s too late to take it back now.

As much as you try not to, you watch your phone screen, waiting for a response.

Luckily, you don’t have to wait long. You see a typing bubble pop up, then disappear, then pop up again, before finally two messages come through.

Dr. Reid: I completely understand. Don’t worry.

Dr. Reid: I could come to you? If you’re comfortable.

When you read that, you feel your stomach drop to your ass. You decidedly not expect him to offer anything like that. A few things fly through your mind, but mainly that Lena may have been right, and having your professor come to your apartment is, at least, frowned up by admin. Still, the image of him in front of you, in your home, with your cat, is too much to resist.

With shaking fingers, you text him back.

You: That would be wonderful if you’re sure you’re okay with it.

You: Friendly warning, I have a very affectionate cat.

Dr. Reid: Good to know. Is 4 still alright?

You shoot him back a quick yes and your address, and then get to cleaning every square inch of your apartment.

~

Dr. Reid is an angel on Earth.

When you hear a knock at your door, you have to stop before answering to regulate your breathing. When you finally do, you see your professor in front of you in a cardigan (a fucking cardigan) and togo cup of tea that he immediately hands to you.

It’s all like a hopeless romantics wet dream. Hot professor, in the rain, at your house, who clearly cares about you in some way? It’s like he’s trying to kill you.

You step aside to let him in and move to your couch, “You really didn’t have to do this.”

He stands for a moment before sitting at the opposite end and saying through a laugh,“The tea or coming over?”

“Both, I guess? I just feel bad that Ive take up so much of your time. I feel like a bit of an inconvenience.”

“Y/n, please stop worrying so much over this. I want to help you learn, it’s not an inconvenience or a both or unnecessary.”

You really look at him then, trying to read whether or not he’s being genuinely. He just seems too good to be true, like he’s a fiction character made just for you. Well, not just for you, but in your fantasies that’s how you’ll think about it.

The next couple hours are spent reviewing material you are sure he taught weeks ago and stealing glancing at his mouth when you are sure he is not looking. Your kitty makes a few appearances too, and seems to have formed an instant attachment to the doctor. You are not as sly with your staring as you’d like to think, and get caught a few too many times. Honestly, you are trying desperately not to think about anything but academia, but he makes it so unbelievably hard. Not to put the blame on him for your insatiability, but jesus fuck. Intelligence has always been incredibly sexy to you, and it oozes from him

Despite the distraction, you’ve been doing good in terms of building your understanding. Now however, you are on the verge of tears, chocking down a knot in your throat as you try to make sense of anything coming out of Dr. Reid’s mouth. This has to be the third time he’d tried to explain it to you, and while this is the entire point of these meetings, you feel like a failure.

The doctor is lost in his own world, trying desperately to explain the concept in a digestible way, so he doesn’t notice your state. That is, until you sniffle, just slightly, and immediately avert your gaze.

He cuts himself off, “Y/n? Are, are you okay? What’s wrong.”

It’s too much, so too much. What kind of dick asks something like that, with that much care in his voice. You can’t help the tears starting to fall.

“I’m so sorry. I just, I can’t understand it.”

He looks at you with his beautiful eyes and says, “Y/n, it’s okay-“

“No. God, you must think I’m a fucking idiot. No, not fucking, I didn’t mean to say fuck in front of you. God this is terrible.”

You’re fully crying at this point, and you can’t bear to look at Dr. Reid.

He stays silent for a moment, before you feel movement on the couch and look up to see he is much closer to you.

“You’re incredibly intelligent, Y/n. I, I would never judge you for needing help.”

You bury your face in your palms, and, very eloquently, try to speak through them.

“Sir, you really don’t need to say that. I know I should have been able to grasp this weeks ago, all of this.”

“Spencer.”

You look up, “What?”

“My name is Spencer. You don’t have to call me sir or Dr. Reid. I’d like for you to call me Spencer.”

“Well, Spencer then. I’m sorry for wasting your time. I really don’t know why I thought any of this would help, clearly there’s something seriously wrong with-“

You’re cut off by a hand on your jaw, guiding you to look up. Dr. Reid’s hand. Spencer’s hand, and it’s gentle and he’s staring at you, and you feel like your skin is on fire underneath his palm.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Y/n. You’re one of the most capable, intelligent people I’ve ever met. I’m breaking nearly 20 different codes of contact by being here, but I can’t help it.”

You feel all your words caught in your throat, and all you can fucking think about is his hand and his eyes and his lips. You don’t know what else to do, so, in an act of unusual bravery, you push forward and press your lips to his.

The response is immediate. All thoughts in your head are gone and replaced by a mantra of Spencer’s name. You feel his hands move to the nape of your neck, holding you to him, and his lips pressing yours open so he can glide his tongue over yours. You’re breathless and ruined, and when he pulls back you’re too struck by him to speak.

“You have no idea what you do to me, Y/n. I’ve never wanted anyone like this before”

Your forehead is pressed to his and you breath out, “Show me.”

The hand on you tightens its grip, but the man before you pulls back a bit, and it becomes your only point of contact.

“I, I can’t. I’m your teacher, I’m nearly 20 years older than you. I shouldn’t have even kissed you.”

“I kissed you. I want you, this. I want whatever you’ll give me.”

“It’s wrong, Y/n.”

“I don’t care. I want you, Spencer.”

Hearing you say his name must break his resolve, because in a moment his lips find yours again, and he’s pulling you into his lap.

To recap, you’re in your home, on your couch, straddling the hottest man you’ve ever seen, and his lips are trailing down your neck and over your clavicle. You put your arms around his neck, threading your hands through his hair and experimentally rolling your hips against his.

His hands grab your hips, stilling your movement, and breaks from his assault on your neck to say, “I won’t be able to control myself if you do that, Y/n. I need to know what you want.”

“I want all of it, doctor.”

The honorific must do something for him, because he growls low in his throat before once again connecting with your lips. The same hands that just stilled your movement now guide your hips to press into him harder. You feel his length beneath you and moan into his mouth.

You’d fantasized about this for months, but now it’s actually happening and it’s so much better than you could have ever imagined. You feel him every where, and he knows exactly what to do and whisper in your ear to drive you fucking crazy.

You move your hands from his hair and break from his lips to pull your shirt off. You make eye contact with him and then reach behind your back to unclasp your bra, leaving that part of yourself entirely exposed to him.

“Fuck, Y/n.”

The expletive takes you by surprise for a moment, but you snap out of it quickly, taking one of his hands and bringing it to your chest. He moves quickly from that point, cupping your breast in his hand and toying with your nipple. Your lips find his again, and you feel him move to flip you, but you stop him before he can.

“Bedroom, Spencer. Please.”

He nods and you climb from his lap. On your way to the room, he discards his shirt. You can’t help but ogle his frame. He’s slender and sinewy, but you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. The angles and curves of his frame fit

together to create the perfect portrait of a man. He has scars littered over his arms and torso, but they don’t phase you.

You’re under him on the bed now, your core raising to meet his desperately.

“You’re so beautiful. So beautiful, I’m so lucky.”

His words cause a blush to form on your cheeks, which you can barely focus on as his hands are in the process of pulling your shorts and panties down your legs.

“Fuck, baby, you’re soaked, huh?”

You whine as his fingers make contact with where you need him most.

“Is this all for me, Y/n? Who’s making you this wet?”

“You, sir, only you.”

“Jesus, baby.”

If someone had asked hours ago you what you thought your professor would be like in bed, this was the last thing you would’ve said. Not that anyone would ask… but still. He’s nerdy and adorable, and while his looks are literally to die for, he doesn’t scream ‘I’m gonna fuck your brains out’.

His fingers pick up their pace on your clit as you find yourself trying to undo his belt. You’re desperate to see him as bare as you are. He stops to help you get his pants down, and when you see him in his full glory you feel a little faint.

“You’re so big.”

He lets a little whine slip through, “Yeah? Biggest you’ve had?”

You blush a little at his tone. As much as you’re trying to fake it, you don’t have as much experience in this field as one might expect for a girl your age.

“I’ve only been with one other person, so yeah.”

Your candor is decidedly not sexy, and you really have no clue why you would say that right now. The man above you does not seem deterred though, if anything it spurs him on.

“Fuck, Y/n. Didn’t know you were so innocent.”

You blush again, but reach to grab him, trying to prove how good you can be. He’s heavy in your hand, and part of you worries how he’ll fit. You know you’re programmed to accommodate, but the thought is daunting.

He must sense your concern when he says, “Don’t worry, love. Gonna stretch out this pussy for me.”

With that, his fingers resume their previous task, and he slowly moves down to trace your entrance with his middle finger. The sensation has you spinning, and let breathless moans leave your body he slowly starts to open you up. His fingers are long and precise in their movements. Every time he thrusts into you, they graze a spot that sends sparks of pleasure straight to your core.

“You’re doing so good for me, puppy. Letting your professor fuck you with his fingers.”

You can barely breathe, and your climax comes closer with every passing second. When his thumb moves to press over your clit and his other hand presses firmly on your lower stomach, you’re done for.

“Good girl, Y/n. Coming so pretty on my hand.”

Your orgasm is stupefying, and all you can think or say is Spencer’s name. You grab at him, desperate to find something to ground you, and you hear him moan as your nails dig into his back. He doesn’t stop for a moment, continuing to press into you and riding you through your high.

Once you come down, though you can still feel your legs shaking, you want more. You want all of him. You take him in your hand again, pumping up and down his shaft at a lazy pace.

“Spencer, I need you to fuck me.”

He laughs, his hand still on your core, “Ask nicely, Y/n. You come on my fingers and all of a sudden your manners disappear? You really are desperate for me, huh?

You didn’t want to admit it, but he’s right.

“Please, Spencer. Please fuck me, I need it.”

“Good girl,” he takes your wrist and leads your hand to your mouth. “Spit.”

You aren’t exactly sure what he’s doing. You think he might be teasing you more, letting you work him over until you beg, but he answers all your questions quickly.

He guide your hand back to grab him, helping you jerk him off before he grabs himself and lines up with your entrance.

In his first Dr. Reid like moment in the last hour he stops and asks, “Fuck do you have a condom? I obviously didn’t think we’d do this, so I don’t have anything on me.”

You’re panting with anticipation at this point, but still manage to get out, “I’m on the pill and I’m clean. I trust you.”

His eyes go soft for a moment, before he continues his previous mission. He lines up again with you, before teasing your slit with the head of his cock. If you didn’t want him so bad, you could’ve come like this, but you are desperate. You push your hips up, hoping he gets the point, and he does.

“I could play with that pussy all day if you’d let me, Y/n.”

You want to protest, and tell him to get on with it, but you don’t have to. You feel his tip

slowly pushing into you as he lets out a groan.

“You’re so fucking tight.”

He’s slow and careful, and you can’t remember sex ever feeling this good. You know he isn’t all the way in, but you already feel so full. When he does reach the hilt, you let out a low moan at the feeling. He’s completely inside of you, filling you in a way that is unbelievably good. He stays still for a moment before slowly pulling back and thrusting into you.

You can tell he’s being gentle, but hard enough and fast enough to have your legs start shaking more heavily again. You already feel a pit in your stomach, and you know you’re going to come, for a second time, embarrassingly fast.

“Fuck yes. So good for me, Y/n.”

The way your name sounds in his mouth drives you crazy. The only thing you can think about is how badly you want this moment to go on forever. Everything about him is perfect. Even now, while fucking your brains out (literally, you could make yourself say a word even if you wanted to), he’s cupping your head in his hand and telling you how beautiful you are.

Now that you’re more accustomed to the size of him, he takes your thigh, pushing it up to your chest, and starts too fuck into you faster and harder. His pelvis rubs over your clit with every thrust, driving you crazy. Your hands are in his hair and down his back, grabbing and clawing at him.

“You love taking this cock, huh baby? Love how deep it is in you. Can’t even talk you’re so fucked out.”

His words go straight to your core, but you know what you need to come again. You guide his hand up near your sternum and manage to cry out a few words.

“Please, need it. Need you.”

He takes your request to heart and moves his hand to your neck, squeezing the sides. You feel yourself get light headed in the most incredible way. Tears are forming in your eyes. The feeling is so intense.

“So perfect for me. Gonna fuck you dumb, puppy.”

You whine at the nickname, you didn’t even know you were into that.

“You’re just sucking me in, Y/n. Hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.”

You’re close, and you can feel the pit in your stomach start to spread and take over. Spencer’s hand on your throat tightens slightly, and it only take a few more thrusts before you’re coming on him.

“Coming. Fuck, Spence you’re making me come.”

“That’s right. Come all over this cock. Show me how good I make you feel.”

Your vision is going white at the edges and you feel like your whole body is shaking.

“Fuck, gonna come just watching you. Gotta pull out, baby.”

You grab him before he can, “No! Want it inside me.”

He groans above you and you feel his hips stutter.

“Fucking Jesus. Want me to fill you? Make this pussy mine.”

You nod, the tears now falling down the sides of your face.

“Gonna come, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna come in your perfect fucking pussy.”

You can feel when he does. His dick is pulsing in you, filling you completely, just like he said he would.

When he comes down, he pushes his lips to yours, kissing you with an intensity you’ve never felt before. For a while, he just lays there, kissing you.

“Gonna pull out now. Gotta clean you up.”

You whine, but nod regardless. You feel empty at the loss of him, but you don’t have much time to think about it before you feel a warm towel wipe around your centre.

“You gotta go pee, Y/n. Don’t want to develop a UTI.”

Five minutes ago this man was coming inside of you, and now he’s back to being the man who came to your house in the rain with tea. You do know he’s right though, so you pull yourself out of your bed on shaking legs and make your way to your bathroom.

When you come back in, you find Spencer with his pants back on. Your heart breaks a little.

In a small voice you ask, “Are you leaving?”

He looks up at you then, “Do you want me to stay?”

You don’t know why you wouldn’t.

“If you don’t want to you don’t have to.”

You can feel tears welling up again, but these are different from before; he notices immediately.

“Baby, baby don’t worry. I don’t want to go, I just didn’t want to over step.”

You laugh a little at that, wiping your eyes, “I think we’ve gotten over all the steps, Spencer. I, I want - Just please stay.”

He nods and moves to take off his pants before sliding into place next to you. His arm wraps around your waist and you feel a tingle in the spots where he touches you.

“I don’t want to have this be a one time thing,” you blurt out.

You feel him hold you a little tighter then.

“I was never planning that, Y/n. Now, sleep. We can talk about how much I’ve come to adore you tomorrow.”

END!! i hope you all love it!

tag list! (leave me comment if you want to join and i’ll add you): @sabage101

[0anonnymouslyours0]

imagine; spencer with a famous gf, and the team finding out.

picture this:

your penelopes favourite celebrity, and she religiously stalks your page, even has notification for when you post. you've just posted, and shes inspecting the newest photos, when her eyes catch on a very familiar coffee shop. namely, spencers favourite coffee shop, which he regularly drags the team to after cases. scrolling to the next post, she nearly drops her phone when a recognizable silhouette of a man is in the corner of the photo. its in what penelope presumes is your living room, a photo of your fireplace, and a man hunched over in a chair next to it reading a book.

"derek!" penelope squeals running out of her office.

"woah-woah. whats happening?"

"spencer! reid!"

"yes, i know him?" derek gives her a funny look.

"he's on her instagram post! the famous y/n! spencer!" penelope shoves the phone in his face, and dereks eyes widen at it.

"that is defiantly spencers living room." jj says, who has appeared behind derek starring at the photo.

"it is? it is!" penelope claps, earning a few funny looks.

"no, no guys this is the y/n. like really hot, famous y/n." morgan says.

"spencer could never-"

he gets cut off by spencer walking into the room, cup of coffee ( mostly sugar ) in hand.

"i could never what?" he says, raising a brow at the trio.

"you- you are dating y/n y/l/n!" penelope says, pointing at him.

spencers cheeks flush pink, a sheepish smile on his face.

"uhh, yes.." he states, confusion crossing his features.

"nah, no way? pretty boy isnt that pretty." derek states, and spencer glares at him.

"no way he could pull her."

"i could." spencer says defensively.

"and he did." jj adds.

morgan frowns shaking his head.

"where did you even meet her?"

"at a coffee shop, then we had coffee, exchanged numbers.. i really didn't know who she was until i head penelope talking about her."

"thats why you asked me so many questions about her!"

spencer nods, giving them a straight-mouthed smile.

"i don't believe this. no offense-" morgan says, shrugging.

"why don't you just- meet her?" spencer says, shrugging.

"yes, yes! please!" penelope shouts.

sure enough, you do exist, and when you show up to the teams dinner, spencers arm wrapped around your waist, morgan has no choice but to believe it, and penelope no choice but to faint in your presence.

[stairain]

Masterlist

Bolded is NSFW.

✪ = Reader Favorite ✫ = Author Favorite

Bad idea. - You see your Professor talking to one of his co-workers, prompting insecurities about him belonging with someone his age.

Yes, Professor. - What follows after a jealous argument between Professor Spencer and his student.

Only you, darling. - You tell your professor you want a “real relationship”, it doesn’t bode well at all.

Beatdown. - Your professor can’t seem to get enough of your punishments. He was pushing your limits, and you intend to break him.

✫ I know your wife and she wouldn’t mind. - Even though he's married to someone else, Spencer can't resist taking care of you every time you show up on his doorstep.

✫ Swing and a Miss. - You meet a nerd at a bar, and you’re determined to claim him as yours.

✪ In the Pouring Rain. - You're driving home and there’s a storm incoming, but pulling over and never pulling out seems more than satisfactory. 

✪✫ Vegas Redemption.- You spot Spencer at a hotel lounge alone, you see has a ring on his finger, but that doesn't stop you.

Headlights Flashing - Spencer and you are rivaling street racers, and despite your deep rooted hatred for each other, with enough adrenaline, arousal, and pure aggression shooting through your veins, you find yourself at the mercy of your contender.

Come and Save me now. - Spencer is supposed to be your doctor, but making you feel better surely wasn’t out of the job description. 

✪✫ Daddy's Little Helper. - Spencer wants nothing more than to show his appreciation for you babysitting his daughter, but by giving you a baby of your own was not what you expected.

✪ Truth of a Lifetime. - After a long day at work, you want nothing more than to unwind with your best friend, but playing a game of drunk Truth or Dare was definitely not what you had in mind. 

✪✫ Captive to Crosswords. - Spencer’s got you tied to a chair, but he’s more interested in finishing his crossword puzzle than finishing you.

✪ Down by the Dock. - After telling Spencer how distant he's been, he's determined to prove just how close he can get with you.

Dare of a Lifetime. - Part 2 to “Truth of a Lifetime” where you show Spencer the kinds of things you’re into, and he is quite the hands-on learner.

✫ Make Hate to You. - Spencer’s convinced you like him a little more than you’re letting on, but you’re set on showing him just how wrong he is.

✪ Mommy's Boyfriend. - While dropping off your son at school, the last thing you expect is your ex-boyfriend Mr.Reid to be his teacher.

✪ Gun that doesn't shoot. - You've grown tired of the princess treatment from Spencer, just wishing he'd slap you around for once, so you don't stop until he does.

✪ Old Fashioned. - After a long night of waiting tables, a quiet man who can’t help but blush every time you speak to him is just what you need.

✪ Staying Up. - You're peacefully sleeping when Spencer comes home needy for you, but you're more than happy to let him use you.

✪✫ The Art of Film - Spencer's wears his FBI vest and bodycam while he fucks you. 

BBM Baby - Spencer wants nothing more than to leave work to be with you, so you sext him to torture him even further. 

The Chase. - Getting pulled over wasn't exactly your plan for a Friday night, but getting pulled over by a hot officer just might be.  

Wrong Move You're Dead - Spencer was never shy about his obsession for you, but you don't know just how far he'd go to prove you belong to him.

✪✫Jealous Girl. - Catching Spencer talking to another woman wasn’t exactly ideal, but thankfully you know just how to handle him. 

Impatience.- Your patience was hardly that of a saint, so it’s no surprise when Spencer’s forced to leave work to fuck you. 

✫ All Aboard. - When you meet a handsome stranger on the train home, he's adamant from the moment your gazes lock that he’ll get a taste of you.

Desk Pet. - Despite knowing the importance of work, Spencer still can't help but distract you in the worst way possible.

Begging for a Breaking. - You've never been that of a beggar for Spencer, but you’re not about to back down now.

✪ Friendly Competition. - Spencer gets a little too cocky and thinks he can please you better than a toy, so you take it upon yourself to crush his ego. 

✫ Brushstrokes - You weren’t entirely sure what being Spencer’s muse meant, but it certainly wasn’t what he had in mind.

Loosen Up - Parties have never been much of Spencer's scene, luckily you've got no problem helping him calm down.

Conditioned Response - You knew training someone like a dog wasn't the most ethical, but Spencer just makes it too easy to pass up.

Good Decoration - After misplacing a folder full of explicit images, the last thing you’d expect was Spencer to take it. 

Double-Edged Sword - The only way Spencer is allowed to fuck you is to wear a strap-on.

[reiderwriter]

NSFW Prompt Requests - I’m in dyer need of 127 or 150 if you’d be so kind?🥵

A/N: I feel like I say "I got a bit carried away" in every single one of these authors notes, but this one I think I really did...

Word Count: 3k

#127: "I can taste myself on you."

#150: "Stop clenching, baby, you're already tight enough as it is."

Summary: You're hot for teacher. So is every other girl on campus. Your Professor, however, is absolutely oblivious until you spell it out for him...

Warnings: Professor x Student, age gap, oral (M receiving), face-fucking, no birth control/ condoms, creampie, male whimpering and moaning mentioned a lot, PinV sex, both of them are Switches idc idc 18+ MINORS DNI

Check out my other stuff on my masterlist!

You had been in his class for around three weeks when you decided you couldn’t take it anymore. If you were going to keep up your GPA and progress in your grad programme, you were going to have to either drop the class with Professor Reid, or persuade him to put you out of your misery. 

You’d been intrigued by the course to start with, of course, which is why you’d picked up the criminology elective when it wasn’t a required class. But it was only available this semester as he was only Guest Lecturing while on leave from his job at the BAU, and getting that kind of insight from an actual industry professional rather than an academic really couldn’t hurt, right? You’d thought that until you’d seen him. 

Expecting some older man with a stuffy tone and a disdain for modern technology, you’d been roughly awoken when he walked into the lecture hall on the first day and you found yourself hanging on to his every word as he read through your syllabus. You were spot on with the technophobia, but for everything else, you were blissfully incorrect. He was, quite possibly, the hottest man you’d ever seen in your life. You weren’t secretive about your thing for older men, joking all the time about your “daddy kink,” but you’d never had a thing for one of your actual professors before, and it was driving you insane. 

It didn’t help that the word had travelled around the entirety of your campus as well, with multiple girls turning up to audit the class after the first week. You’d been green with envy since you’d seen them mooning over the man, and you’d felt disgusted with yourself almost instantly. He was your professor, he was damn good at his job, but he was so deliciously tempting that you couldn’t find it within yourself to actually pay attention in his classes. You knew it was only a matter of time until the man, who you realised was obviously blind to how attractive he was to a bunch of twenty-somethings with a penchant for danger and a willingness to try all kinds of new things, would catch on to how many of his students were openly lusting for him.

You hoped that you had learned enough in his classes on behaviour that you could accurately hide your feelings and thoughts, however sinful and objectively obvious they were. Your hopes were crushed on that fateful day three weeks into the semester. 

You’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed already. Your alarm hadn’t gone off, your clothes were all still wet inside the washing machine in your apartment meaning you had to throw on a short skirt and pray you didn't flash anyone, and your roommate hadn’t closed the fridge properly the night before, so the milk you wanted to use in your morning coffee had spoilt. After dragging yourself into class, the last thing you’d wanted to see was twice as many students auditing the class as the previous week. 

To give it to the man’s obliviousness, he hadn’t noticed until about two thirds of the way into the class, when he asked a student why they weren’t taking notes.  He’d seemed confused. You were almost furious that he didn’t know what effect he was having on you, on every girl in the vicinity, but, more importantly, you. Unable to help yourself, you let out a scoff that gained his attention. 

“Is there something wrong with the class materials Miss…” he trailed off, waiting for you to supply your name to him. 

“Oh, no, uh, Y/N. My name is Y/N, there’s nothing wrong, sir. I’m sorry.” His lips twitched as you replied, but he went on with his class, as you sunk into your chair in shame. You were going to have to drop the class now. He must hate you, or think you were stupid, or think that you hated him, and your thoughts were spiralling so out of control that you hadn’t noticed the class had ended, and he was calling up at you from the lecturing desk. 

“Miss Y/N, are you okay?” He asked, and his goddamned eyes were filled with such concern you hated that every part of your body was screaming with desire for him. Unable to respond, he tried again. 

“If you have the time, would you like to come talk to me in my office? I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener.” You should’ve said no, just based on the ridiculous scenes filling your mind, but you didn’t hesitate to nod your approval. You picked up your bags and made your way down the steps to where he was waiting with all of his stuff near the front door. He opened the door for you, and you felt your heart race as you awkwardly slid by him in the doorway. He had to be a fucking gentleman, too, right? 

You followed him as he made his way to his office, staying silent the entire way. He looked like he wanted to make small talk but didn’t know how, choosing instead to just mirror your silence. When you reached his office, he apologised for the mess and showed you inside, letting you take a seat on the couch whilst he put all his things away. The room was littered with books of all sizes, and you noticed that the titles didn’t seem to have one common subject linking them all, or even, in fact, seem to be written in the same language. You spotted a beaten up copy of War and Peace on his desk next to an obviously used coffee mug, and some paper files that looked to be the reading from that morning’s class. 

“Sorry, I didn’t exactly plan on having guests, uh, make yourself comfortable?” He asked it as a question, and loosened his tie as he said it. You stared at the small patch of skin on his neck, your eyes lingering just a moment too long before you remembered you were in a room with an actual FBI Profiler, and that if your thoughts were any louder, he’d handcuff you himself. As tempting as that was, you really didn’t want your Professor knowing about all the ways you’d imagined him fucking you. 

“Professor Reid, I’m sorry, I have to leave, and- and I think I have to drop out of the class.” You stood up suddenly, and he stood up too from his place at his desk, shocked at your sudden anxious outburst. 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, is there something wrong? Did I make you uncomfortable?” he asked taking a step closer to you, but you took a step back again, accidentally pressing your back against one of his many bookcases in your haste to avoid him. 

“Yes! I mean no, it’s not your fault that I’m uncomfortable. I’m not uncomfortable, really!” He had the look of a kicked puppy on his face now, and you realised this man would be the death of you. You weren’t even sure what it was about him that entranced you enough to stay and continue the conversation.

“I can’t focus in your classes, Professor,” you sighed out, letting your eyes drop with the embarrassing confession. 

“That’s perfectly fine, many people struggle to pay attention in college classes. Is there anything I can do in my lectures to accommodate to your needs?” Your eyebrows screwed up in frustration with his obvious professional kindness. 

“No, Professor, I’m sorry, unless you stop looking like that there’s nothing you can do.” You ran a stressed hand through your hair as you begged your mouth to shut and stay shut. 

“...What?” The confused tone in his voice let you know that he had no clue at all what you meant by your words, but he didn’t go further. You chanced a glance up at his face, and were met with a small blush rising to his cheeks, as you watched the words process in his brain. 

“Professor, every single person in that class that is attracted to men would kill to do absolutely sinful things to you. You’re like the campus’s collective wet dream right now. You had to know that, right?” You sigh out, finally putting the man out of his misery.

“Oh. No. No, no, I didn’t. Know that, I mean, I didn’t…Is that why there are so many people auditing the class? They want to…. Do that with me?” 

“Fuck you, Professor. They want to fuck you. You can say it, we’re both adults.” You resigned yourself to the fact that this conversation was probably going to haunt every waking hour for the rest of your life, and just let it happen, pushing through the cringe to help him come to certain realisations. 

“And that’s why you want to drop the class?” he asked finally, looking back up at you. 

“Yes.” 

“Because you want to…fuck me?” 

Your mouth dropped open at his words, as you desperately tried to back track, but all that came out was hot air and blubbering sounds as you felt your brain short circuit like his had just moments before. 

“I mean… I guess,” you finally stuttered out, your fight or flight instinct begging you to just run, but something deeper, something carnal planting you in position and making movement in that moment impossible. 

“Oh…. right.” He nodded at you, his lips spread in a thin smile as he nodded at you awkwardly. You stood there together in silence for a minute, but it became clear soon that the logical part of your brain was no longer in control of your mouth. 

“Can I?” you asked, almost startled at your own boldness. 

“Excuse me?” he said, his voice raising higher in tone at the incredulity of your statement. 

“Can I fuck you? If I do, maybe I’ll be able to, you know, pay more attention in class. Get it out of my system, you know.” Growing emboldened by your own words, you took another hesitant step towards him, reaching your hand up to gently touch his arm. His jaw clenched at the contact, but he didn’t move away, didn’t suggest you stop right there and forget this conversation ever happened. 

“Please, Professor Reid. Please fuck me,” you trailed the hand up his arm and back down his chest as he stood there just watching you beg for him. You discarded your bag on the chair, and keeping your eyes focused on his, trailed both of your hands down to his belt, slowly enough that he could push you away at anytime. 

“Do you know what you’re doing, Miss Y/N?” He asked quietly, and you smiled, finally happy to get a reaction from him. The smile had dropped from his lips and there was something suddenly dark in his tone that had you clenching around nothing. 

“Yes, Professor,” you said, letting your hands start working on his belt, undoing it agonisingly slowly as you watched him control his breaths. When you finally had it undone, you finally looked up at him again, and gave him a smile as innocent as you could muster. 

“You have my permission,” he whispered into your ears as he gently put a hand on your head and pushed you down to your knees, perching himself on the edge of the desk. You wasted no time then, desperate to live out each and every single one of your fantasies with him. Reaching into his pants, you found him already hard and pulsing, and you released his cock from its confines quickly. Spitting into your hand, you gave him a few quick strokes as you watched him grow even bigger under your touch. 

Letting out some sinful breathy moans, you looked up at him, head thrown back and eyes screwed shut as you finally reached your tongue out to lick at the tip of his cock. He twitched at the contact, and you felt the warmth pooling between your legs as you watched his each and every reaction. Finally wrapping your lips around him, you decided to put him out of his misery, sinking down on his dick an inch at a time until he was hitting the back of your throat. He was delightfully vocal the whole time, moaning and whimpering so much that you almost pulled off him completely and begged him to fuck you raw. But the taste of his cock was intoxicating and you wanted more and more of him. After a few minutes of your agonisingly slow pace, you felt his hips beginning to buck up to match your pace as he began to face-fuck you. He grabbed a handful of hair, and you did your best to relax your throat, stabilising yourself by placing one hand on his thigh and sinking deeper into your open hips on the floor. 

His eyes were still screwed close, but he was moaning out your name now, with a few expletives thrown in too, having done a complete 180 from the few minutes earlier when he’d hesitated to even say the F word in conversation. You felt he was getting close when he started thrusting deeper, sloppier in his movements and more breathy in his moans. He suddenly pulled out of your mouth and lifted you to your feet, bringing you face to face with him. 

“We didn’t… we didn’t say where I would, um…” he tried to say but you pushed up onto your toes and pressed a hot kiss to his mouth, your tongues quickly twinning as he returned it in kind. You stood there, lips locked and breathless in that space for quite some time, neither of you caring about the lack of oxygen you were getting. Finally, using the hand that was still fisted in your hair he pulled you away from his lips, and you whimpered pathetically at the loss of contact. 

“I can taste myself on you,” he panted into your neck as he held you close, the words sending a shiver down your spine and forcing another moan out of your mouth. The pain from his tight grip in your hair only heightened your pleasure as he moved his lips back to your exposed neck and continued his ministrations. 

“Please, professor….” you begged again, desperate for his attention. “Please fuck me.” 

Without removing his lips from your neck, he quickly moved the two of you back to the couch you’d been sitting on before, guiding you into his lap, his cock still hard and free from his pants. Your skirt spread open, and your hard landing meant you could feel all of him pressed against you. You thanked the gods for your suddenly well-timed laundry efforts as he grabbed the base of his cock and started teasing you through your panties. You were sure they were soaked through as you sat in his lap, grinding down on his perfect cock, his mouth still pressed into your neck. 

“Fuck me, please fuck me,” you moaned, and he complied, finally hooking a finger under the seam of your panties and moving them to the side as he pushed up into you with another throaty moan. 

“Yes, thank you. Thank you Professor, thank you.” You moaned out in bliss as you sank further and further down on him, pushing further than any man had been. before. 

“Stop clenching, baby, you’re already tight enough as it is,” he ground his teeth in a hiss, and you moaned at his words, the pervertedness of them shooting straight to your core. 

“Can’t…help myself. You feel so good, sir.” He started moving then, holding your waist as he started lazily thrusting upwards. After having your mouth wrapped around him, he knew that too much too soon would mean that this wouldn’t last long, and you had begged him nicely, so he wanted this to feel as good for you as it did for him. Gripping one of your hips tightly in one hand, he let the other fall under your skirt, and started pressing into your clit. You threw back your head at the contact and started riding him, matching each of his upward thrusts with a downward thrust of your own, letting his thumb gain speed as it followed you up and down. 

“Fuck, professor, thank you…I’m gonna cum, fuck, thank you so much,” you stuttered out as you could feel your orgasm rip through you, collapsing into his arms as he thrust quicker into you now. 

“Y/N, where… where should I….” His voice trailed off, and after a few seconds regaining your sanity after your climax, you finally answered the question he’d been desperately trying to answer.

“Inside… Inside me, Professor Reid, it’s okay…” he whimpered at that, at each thrust he pushed into you, his head falling to the crook in your neck and your hands stroking the hair at the base of his neck as you clenched around him again, finally pulling the desire out of him. He came noisily, even with his face buried in you, moaning so delightfully you knew the sound would be your new distraction for the next three weeks. 

When he finally regained his composure, he let his hands drop from your waist, his head rolled back on the couch, and you fell with him, wrapping yourself around him as if  you never wanted this coupling to end. You stayed there, head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, and drifted to sleep. 

You awoke an hour later, but there was no sign of the Professor. He’d cleaned you up somehow, because there was no unpleasant feeling between your legs, and he’d wrapped a blanket around you as you slept, making sure you were comfortable. Collecting your things and making to leave, you almost convinced yourself that it had all been another fantasy, and that you were becoming seriously delusional about the man. As you approached the door, however, you spotted a small note taped to the handle, and quickly pulled it into your hands. 

Miss Y/N, 

Thank you for visiting me today. I hope you decide to stay in the class, I certainly could learn a thing or two from you. 

- Spencer Reid. 

P.S. You’re lucky I’m an MIT Graduate with a job in the FBI. There’s a security camera in my office. 

[iluvreid]

I would let this man **** ** ******* ** ******

[forhappysake]

Teach Me, Pt. 2

A/N: The second half of "Teach Me," in which a certain professor really wants to see you again. 5.8K words.

Warnings: professor!spencer x fem!reader, implied age gap, mentions of scars and an old gunshot wound, dom!spencer if you squint, use of nicknames (good girl), oral & unprotected sex (be safe ppl)

You silently thanked the universe that you wouldn’t have to see Spencer in class again until the next Tuesday. Though he’d slipped you into his pajamas, laid you in his bed, and woken you up with a kiss and a plate of pancakes on Friday morning before your final midterm, you knew you needed a few days to process this new development in your life. Not only had you slept with someone, but you’d slept with your professor. While you didn’t regret it, you knew you needed to sleep on it before you dove into anything too serious with him. 

All of it was a lot to consider, and Spencer knew that. He stood before you at his apartment door after you’d finished breakfast and slipped into some extra clothes you’d happened to have in the back of your car. He wore a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, not having to lecture on Fridays. “I’ll see you Tuesday” he reminded you as he got ready to send you out the door to campus that morning. “I’ll call you sometime next week to set up another date if you’re still open to the idea.”

You’d nodded, of course, wanting to see him again. “I would like to go out with you. This has been wonderful. I just-” You stumbled over your words for a second, causing him to raise his eyebrow at your evident hesitation. 

He reached out, placing both his hands on your shoulders as if to ground you for a moment. “Take a breath, tell me.” His brown eyes scanned your face, no doubt profiling you. 

You sighed, looking up to meet his eyes. “It all makes me a little nervous, you know. You said yourself, that our dynamic isn’t the most conventional. Just… give me a little time to get used to the idea.”

Spencer had offered you a small smile, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on your forehead before pulling you into a hug. “I completely understand,” he murmured, the vibrations of his voice echoing through his chest as you rested your head on his collar. “Don’t worry about it today. Go ace your midterm. We’ll talk more later.” 

You smiled up at him, thankful for his kindness as he reached around you to open the apartment door. He followed you down the stairs and out of the building without another word, watching you carefully as you climbed into your car. You waved as you started your engine, backing out of the parking spot in front of his building. Spencer smiled back before turning his back to the road and heading back inside his apartment complex, his mop of brown curls disappearing behind the glass doors. 

�� — —

The midterm had gone well. You couldn’t fault yourself for any mistakes, you surmised. You weren’t exactly focused on studying the night before, anyway. As you drove back to your apartment after the exam, you tried to take Spencer off your mind by focusing on what you were going to accomplish over the weekend. 

You accomplished very little. Aside from some basic cleaning and keeping up with your laundry, you spent the weekend struggling to keep Spencer off your mind. You thought about shooting a text message to his number, which he had kindly typed into your contacts before you left his apartment the other day. However, you held yourself back. You’d promised yourself that you’d take the weekend to let this all sink in and you figured it was better not to rush anything. 

However, by the time Tuesday came around, you were more than ready to get a look at your professor-turned-lover. You found yourself dressing up a bit more than usual, adding some additional curl to your hair and smacking on a thin layer of tinted lip gloss, slipping into a flowing skirt and a knitted sweater to keep you warm despite the cool spring breeze. You walked into the lecture hall, slipping into your usual seat, and getting out your notebook. 

Moments later, the side door to the lecture hall swung open and Spencer walked in. He was dressed in a plain black dress shirt with dark pants and an equally black suit jacket. As he made his way to the desk, his eyes flickered up at the audience. You met his eye and he offered you a small smile as he set his books on the desk. 

“Hello, everyone. I hope you had a good weekend.” He seemed quite chipper. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he talked. “I know I did,” Spencer added before turning his back to the audience and writing the day’s topic on the board. 

You could hardly hear a word he said as you focused on his hands. The prominent veins on the back of his hand were accentuated as his slender fingers slid the chalk gently over the board. Even when he was done writing on the board and turned back to the class, your eyes stayed transfixed on his fingers, remembering what they’d done to you only days before. 

“Y/N?” the use of your name snapped you out of your chance. Spencer furrowed his brow, walking across the lecture stage to stand straight in front of you. “Did you hear what I asked you?” 

“Uh-” you fumbled for a second, panicking as you looked to the board to see if you could deduce his question based on his writing. 

Spencer smirked. You’d been caught. He knew you were distracted. “I would encourage you to pay attention to this lesson, as this information will undoubtedly be on the final exam.”

You lowered your eyes, cheeks burning as you heard a classmate giggle behind you. “Yes, sir,” you mumbled. Spencer cleared his throat before continuing with the lesson. You did your best to copy the notes he wrote on the board, but your mind kept drifting back to your previous exchange with Spencer. You couldn’t help but wonder why he called you out like that in front of everyone, especially if you were the one who made his weekend so great. 

When class ended, you quickly packed up your materials and rushed out of the lecture hall. You avoided the gaze of the rest of your classmates, trying to escape without another mention of the period. As you stepped out into the hallway and walked out of the building, you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket. Checking your screen, you saw his name on your screen. Oh god, you thought, Spencer Reid is calling. 

“Hello?” you answered, not slowing your pace as you walked to the parking lot. 

“Where’d you go? I was hoping I’d get the pleasure of seeing you after class.” You could almost hear the frown on his face. 

You sighed as you reached your car, fumbling with your keys as you tried to unlock your car. “Why? So you could reprimand me for not paying attention. Trust me, calling me out in front of everyone was enough. I get it.”

“Do you?” Spencer asked. Just as he spoke, you looked up to see a figure leaning against your car. You gasped, dropping your keys in the process. Spencer stood with his back against your car. He smirked playfully, bringing his phone down from his ear and tucking it in his pocket. 

“How the hell did you beat me here?” you said, bending down to pick up your keys as you attempted to regain your breath. 

“I’ve got longer legs. You look beautiful today, by the way,” he said. You glared up at him as he took your backpack from you, slinging it over his shoulder. “Come with me.”

He turned around and started walking in the direction of the faculty parking lot. “Where are we going?” you asked. 

Spencer smiled. “I promised you a second date, didn’t I?” 

You furrowed your brow, struggling to keep up with his quick pace. “No, you said you’d call me to set up another date.”

He hummed in faux thought. “Maybe, but this is more exciting anyway. Don’t you think?” As the two of you reached his car, he tossed your backpack in the back seat before opening the passenger door for you. You hung back, a bit wary of what he had planned. 

Spencer could sense your unease. He approached you gently. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I’ll take you back to your car and later we can plan something less spontaneous.” He paused before lowering his voice, “Really, I just wanted to see you. I’ll admit, I missed you this weekend. It took everything in me not to call you.” 

You met his eyes for the first time since you’d spotted him by your car. “Well, considering I was in the same boat,” you slid into the passenger seat, looking up at him, “take me away, Doc.” 

Spencer smiled, quickly shutting the passenger’s side door and jogging over to the driver’s side. Sliding in next to you, he leaned over to give you a soft kiss on the cheek. “And we’re off!” he said with a large grin on his face, putting his vehicle in reverse and pulling out of the university parking lot. 

The two of you rode in comfortable silence. Spencer drove you further away from the city, out into the country. You tried not to think too hard about where you were headed. After about ten minutes on the road, Spencer spoke first. “So, what did you do this weekend?” 

You audibly laughed, rolling your eyes. “Let me think,” you held up your fingers and counted off as you listed your very short list of achievements, “I did a load of laundry, I watched two terrible movies, and I did my best to take my mind off of the one and only Dr. Spencer Reid.” 

He raised an eyebrow, taking his eyes off the road to make a quick glance at you. “Why would you want to take your mind off me? What else is there to think about?” he asked playfully, putting a smile on your face. 

You decided to change the subject. “What about you? What did you do this weekend?” 

Spencer offered you another playful glance. “Besides you?” he asked, a smirk forming on his face as you whacked him on the shoulder. “Okay, okay,” he said, raising one hand in defeat. “I’ll have you know that on Friday I went to see the lovely philharmonic downtown and on Saturday I spent the evening with some coworkers from the Bureau.”

“Coworkers from the Bureau,” you echoed, narrowing your eyes. “Does one of these coworkers happen to be the one who gave you that pasta recipe from the other night?” 

Spencer nodded, “One and the same. I told him that my date rather enjoyed his recipe. He nearly choked on his drink when he heard I had a date.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. 

“Well,” Spencer stumbled with his words for a second as he tried to form an appropriate response. “I don’t exactly do this,” he waved his hand to gesture around the car, “a lot. In fact, I’m known for quite the opposite, I suppose.” 

You hummed in curiosity. “Does that mean I’m one of the few women who have been graced with the pleasure of experiencing the romantic side of you, Doc?” 

Spencer laughed, putting a hand on your thigh that made the butterflies in your stomach flutter faster than they had before. “You could say that,” he said. As fast as he’d put his hand on your thigh, he removed it, using both hands to turn the steering wheel into a parking lot off the side of the road, “and here we are.”

You looked away from his face for the first time in minutes to see where he’d taken the two of you. You were parked on the side of a hill, a drop-off on the other side of the parking lot enough to make your stomach churn. Despite the height, you were taken aback by the view overlooking the city and the way the colors of the sunset were bleeding across the evening sky. However, your eyes were quickly drawn to a building across from the parking lot. As Spencer stopped the vehicle, you swore you could hear music coming from the inside of the building. “What is this place?” you asked, nearly breathless. 

Instead of responding immediately, Spencer climbed out of the car and walked over to the passenger side. He opened the door for you, offering his hand as he helped you step out of the vehicle. “This,” he started, “is a very nice restaurant suited for a girl such as yourself.”

You slipped your hand into his as the two of you approached the building. He reciprocated, offering your hand a small squeeze as the two of you entered the restaurant. Though the lighting was dim, candles on each table gave the room a nice ambiance. A few couples were sitting throughout the restaurant. Your eyes were quickly pulled away from them when Spencer was approached by the hostess. “Did you have a reservation for tonight, sir?” she asked with a smile. 

“Yes,” he answered, “it should be under Reid.” The hostess nodded, inviting you and Spencer to follow her to a table in the corner of the room next to a large window with another breathtaking view of the city. 

As you slipped into the seat across from Spencer, you couldn’t help but joke with him, “I thought you said this wasn’t planned.” 

Spencer shrugged. “I figured if you said no, I’d just come here and get dinner myself. This is a hard view to beat,” he gestured to the window. You hummed in agreement, hardly noticing when a server approached your table. 

“Good evening,” the server started, “Could I get you both something to drink?”

Spencer ordered you both a glass of wine as the server provided you with food menus. “I’ll be back with those drinks and to get your orders,” the server said before walking away. You picked up the menu from the edge of the table, your jaw immediately dropping. 

“Dr. R- I mean, Spencer! The prices at this place are outrageous!” you said in a hushed whisper. Spencer waved his hand in dismissal, looking down at his own menu. Your eyes scanned the page in a panic, looking for some entree that wouldn’t cost an arm and a leg. 

He could tell you were still fretting over the price as he reached across the table and lowered your menu so he could look you in the eye. “Y/N, I’m a grown man with no dependents besides my mother. I’ve worked for the FBI for over a decade and I’ve been teaching at various universities on and off for years. Money is never an issue. Do you hear me?” You could tell he was extremely serious by the tone of his voice, so you only nodded silently and scanned the menu once more.

Your server reappeared with your glasses of wine and prepared to take your order. You asked Spencer to go first, during which time he ordered something to the effect of a cajun pasta. Your mouth watered at the thought. “I’ll have the same,” you told the waiter with a smile. The server took your menu and nodded before heading back to the kitchen area. 

Spencer sipped his wine quietly and you felt a sudden boost of confidence come over you. “So,” you started, “I want to know more about the famous and mysterious Spencer Reid.” 

He tilted his head in curiosity, setting his wine glass down on the table and resting his chin on his hand. “What do you want to know?”

“Oh, you know,” you said, swirling the wine around in your glass, “where you grew up, about your family, maybe some tidbits about your past.” 

Spencer considered this request for a moment, nodding slowly. “Okay,” he started, clearing his throat. “I grew up in Vegas. My parents split up when I was pretty young. I never had any siblings.” 

You nodded, soaking in the information as you took a sip of your wine. “So, why the FBI? Why the BAU?” 

“My mother always told me I could do whatever I wanted. I had multiple degrees by age twenty. The FBI found me. I was lucky enough to be picked up by the BAU.” He narrowed his eyes in thought, turning his head to stare out the window, “Especially after my Mom got sick, I never had a real family experience. The BAU became my family.” 

You smiled at the sentiment, reaching across the table and covering his hand with your own. He looked away from the window, eyes a bit glazed as you rubbed a thumb over the back of his hand. “They’re lucky to have you,” I said with a nod. 

Spencer gave a thoughtful smile, but as he was about to respond the waiter arrived at the table with your plates. You surveyed the dishes in front of you and when you looked back up, Spencer was still looking at you. “So, what do you think of the pasta?” he asked. 

You picked up your fork, twirling it on the plate and raising the fork to your mouth. “It’s wonderful,” you said with an enthusiastic look, “however, it’s not as good as yours.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow, “You mean that?” 

You nodded. “This might be good, but it’s not authentic Italian cuisine from the Reid kitchen, inspired by some mystery FBI agent!” you joked. Spencer laughed, a genuine laugh that caused him to throw his head back. 

His curls fell gently in his eyes when he straightened his head up. Spencer brushed them out of the way, offering you a look at his lovely brown eyes. He took a bite of his pasta and gave a thumbs up in approval, washing it down with a sip of his wine. You stared at him closely, examining every feature you could in the warm lighting. It was the first time that you noticed a small scar on the side of his neck. 

“What’s that?” you asked, pointing to the spot on your own neck as you stared at the scar. Spencer reached his hand up, brushing some of his hair out of the way as he felt the place you were referring to. “Oh, I-” he stuttered, “I got shot once.” 

You raised an eyebrow, nearly spitting out your wine. Spencer shrugged. “Crazy things happen when you work for the Bureau. I’m sure you can imagine.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I can imagine,” you repeated, swirling your pasta on your fork. “However, I think it would be more fun if you’d just show me.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow. “What are you asking?” he said as he took a sip of his wine.

You leaned across the table, a surge of confidence driving your movements. “I’m asking to see all your scars, Dr. Reid,” you said lowly. “I’d love to know all your secrets.” He furrowed his brow as if confused before the true meaning of your words soaked in. 

“Well,” he said, setting his glass back on the table and removing the napkin from his lap. “I’d be happy to show you everything,” Spencer whispered. “Just, not here.” 

You giggled, tilting your head to the side in curiosity. “Does that mean you know a place?” you asked. 

He smiled, offering a shy nod. “I’d say so.” With that, Spencer hailed the waiter and quickly paid the bill for both of you before rising from the table. You allowed him to lead you out of the restaurant and back to his car. He opened the passenger door for you before walking around and sliding into the driver’s seat, firing up the engine. 

You toyed with the hem of your dress in anticipation. Though you’d already slept with Spencer once, you couldn’t help but feel a touch nervous. His implication from your previous night together echoed in your head: “There’s lots for you to learn, if you’re interested.”

After you arrived back to his apartment building, Spencer led you on to the elevator. The short ride up to his floor was completed in absolute silence. You glanced at Spencer, who was gently tapping his foot against the elevator’s floor, no doubt impatient to get back to his place. 

Entering Spencer’s apartment, you were struck by how clean it was. “Are you sure you weren’t expecting a guest this evening?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him. 

He slipped out of his suit jacket with a shrug. “Maybe I just wanted to be prepared in case a beautiful woman like yourself was kind enough to share the evening with me,” he said. You blushed at his words, turning your back to him in hopes to conceal the deep shade of crimson spreading across your cheeks. 

Spencer finished hanging his jacket on a hook by the door and you could hear his footsteps approaching from behind you. You turned to face him as he wraps his arms around your waist. You rested your hands on his shoulders, holding him in place. “What do you think you’re doing?” you asked playfully. 

“I’ve been thinking about this for days,” he mumbled, leaning in for a kiss. His lips were soft at first, nearly exploratory, like he was unsure what to do next. However, he quickly found his rhythm, sliding a hand up your back to tangle in your hair as you stumbled backward into the nearest wall. 

He held you there, using your position against the wall to hold himself close to you, enjoying the small gasps and deep sighs that escaped from your lips as he removed his mouth from yours and began his pursuit down your body. His hands reached under the hem of your sweater, as he pulled it over your head and dropped in on the floor next to you before he continued his movements. Spencer’s lips traced a line down your neck before he dropped to his knees in front of you, simultaneously loosening the tie around his neck and tossing it on to the couch behind him. 

“What are you doing?” you asked, genuinely confused as you raised an eyebrow at him. 

Spencer ran his hands up your legs, pushing your skirt up over the apex of your thighs as you leaned back against the wall. “I’m getting my dessert,” he mumbled. 

Your mouth dropped open, a combination of his idea and his words catching you by surprise. “Here?! Against the living room wall?” you asked incrediously. 

Your shock seemed to pull Spencer back to reality as he looked up at you and laughed. He pulled his hands from your legs and positioning them at the hem of your skirt, “Sweetheart, we’re going to do everything on every inch of this apartment before the semester’s over.” With that, he pulled your skirt and underwear down in one movement, leaving your lower half completely bare before him. 

He tapped your thigh with his index finger. “Up,” he said. You did as you were told, picking your foot up off the ground. Spencer put his hand on the back of your thigh, lifting it up and placing your leg over his shoulder. Before you could register what was happening, he leaned forwards, burying his face in between your legs. 

You immediately moaned as he focused his attention on your clit, causing you to arch your back off the wall. He reached one hand up to hold your hips in place, while he used the other to trace your slit before sliding it into you. Spencer leaned back at that moment, watching your face as you fell apart in front of him. 

“How does it feel?” he asked, always intent on making sure you were enjoying yourself. 

“A-amazing,” you groaned. Satisfied with your answer, he slid another finger into you before continuing to lap at your core. 

You could feel the tightness in your lower stomach increasing with each movement he made, and you reached down to grip a handful of his brown curls. “I’m close,” you whined. Spencer didn’t respond, keeping up his movements and increasing the pressure he placed on your clit. The increased pressure along with the motion of his fingers inside you drove you over the edge, and you let out a loud moan as you came. Spencer, ever the gentleman, stayed in his place until you were finished. You gave his curls a final tug, letting him know you were completely finished before he relented, pulling away from you. 

Your legs shook as you tried to maintain your balance. Spencer wrapped an arm around your waist and guided you to the couch, allowing you to lay down to catch your breath. He sat down on the coffee table next to you, smoothing your hair away from your face. 

“How was your dessert?” you asked. 

Spencer laughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Great, I had my favorite.” You leaned your head back, letting out a satisfied sigh before your purpose in all this popped back into your head. You quickly sat up from the couch, putting yourself at eye level with Spencer who remained perched on the coffee table. 

“I believe you promised to show me all your secrets, Doctor,” you said with a sly smile. Spencer sighed, rising from the coffee table and undoing the buttons of his dress shirt. 

He slipped the shirt off his shoulders, discarding it on a nearby chair along with his dress pants before standing before you in only his boxers. You took note of the many scars dotting his figure, letting out a sigh. Spencer caught you staring, raising an eyebrow at you. “What are you looking at?” he asked. 

You looked him in the eye. “You’ve had a rough life, Spencer Reid.”

He looked down at you thoughtfully, his dark eyes glimmering mischeviously in the dim light of his living room. “Maybe so, but I think I’m doing okay right now.” He leaned in to kiss you, this one much more passionate than the last. You let his tongue slip between your lips, exploring your mouth as you moaned into the kiss, the excitement of what was to come making your lower stomach tighten. 

“I’m about to be doing even better,” he whispered as he took your hand and led you down the hallway to his bedroom. When the door swung open, you were greeted by the familiar dark wood of his bed frame and the low light that shone throughout the green walls. 

The two of you stumbled back on to the bed, similar to the first night you’d been together. Thankfully already free of your clothes, Spencer climbed on top of you, reaching a gentle hand behind your back to unclasp your bra as you cast it aside on to the floor. He bent down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth as you groaned out. You ran a hand through his hair as he seemed to enjoy himself, sucking hickeys into your chest as he moved to the other side. 

After a moment, he stopped, crawling up so you were face to face. “I saw you staring in class today,” he whispered, leaning down to suck a dark mark into your neck. 

“You expect me not to?” you asked, struggling to form words as his stubble tickled your jaw and his hot breath splayed over your neck. He looked up at you through his lashes, your heart burst as you soaked in his dark brown eyes. “You look at me like that, and you don’t want me to be distracted?” 

Spencer smiled at you. “I know how easy it is to lose focus,” he murmured. “I have to teach with you in the room every day. You think it’s simple for me?” He pulled back from you, rising from the bed and pulling his boxers off, leaving him fully bare in front of you. 

Spencer reached for his dresser drawer, where you knew from your previous rendezvous that he kept his stash of condoms. In another surge of confidence, you sat up from your position, holding out an arm to stop him from opening the drawer. He looked at you with confusion, before he understood what you were implying. “A-are you sure?” he asked, a bit wary of the idea himself. 

“I’m on the pill. We’re both clean,” you listed. Spencer considered this for a moment before nodding, getting back to his previous thoughts. 

He climbed back on to the bed, pressing a passionate kiss to you lips as he wrapped your legs around his hips. “You think it’s fun for me to stand in front of the class and drone on and on about things I’ve had memorized for fifteen years?” Spencer pulled back, expecting a reply. You simply shook your head at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, mesmerized by his words. 

“No,” he said firmly, “you’re right. It’s not fun.” With that, he reaching between the two of you, lining himself up with your core before quickly pushing himself all the way in. The groan that left your lips was nearly animalistic, and Spencer swallowed the sound with another kiss. 

His pace was slow at first, his thrusts calculated and evenly timed, allowing you to get used to the feeling oncemore. After a minute, you couldn’t take it anymore. You wanted him to ruin you. “More,” you gasped out, “I need more.”

Spencer shook his head, pulling back from you and throwing your legs over his shoulders, nearly folding you in half as he continued to pound into you at a faster pace. You could feel yourself getting close, and your orgasm was fast approaching when Spencer slowed his pace again. You almost cried out in frustration when he began speaking again. 

“Every day I walked in that lecture hall, and every day I’d have to see you there,” he said, punctuating certain words with particularly sharp thrusts of his hips. Your nails dug into his back as he continued to speak, his forehead pressed firmly against yours. “Do you know what I thought about each time I saw you?” he asked. 

You shook your head, hoping that the right answers would encourage him to reward you with an orgasm. He tucked his head into your neck as he continued driving into you. “I watched you walk in, set down your things,” Spencer murmured. “Then I had to watch you adjust that little skirt you wear, and all I could think of…” his pace picked up again, your moans nearly drowning out his final statement, “was how I’d rather bend you over the nearest desk instead.”

You nodded in quick agreement with everything he said. He reached between the two of you, rewarding your enthusiastic response by drawing tight circles on your clit as he examined your face. Sweat had developed on his brow, and a few stray curls stuck to his forehead. Spencer looked like a man starved, chasing some high he wasn’t quite ready to reach. “I bet you’d like that, huh? You want me to let everyone go early so I can have a private lesson with my star student?” 

You continued to nod, too fucked out and eager to reach your high to even consider the potential implications of what you were agreeing to. Spencer smiled down at you, an evil smirk on his face as he continued his movements. Your legs were shaking from the force of his thrusts and your impending orgasm. You were so close, you just needed something more to push you over the edge.

In a move you never would have expected, Spencer reached his free hand up to your throat. You stretched your neck out in an effort to show you consent. A wicked grin passed over his face as he tightened his hand, constricting your air as he offered you a final harsh thrust and emptied himself inside of you. His final words did you in: “You’re such a good fucking girl.”

With Spencer’s final utterance, the tension that had been building in you finally snapped. You came fast and hard, crying out his name into the otherwise relative quiet of his bedroom as his hips stilled inside of you. You shut your eyes, taking deep breaths in an attempt to gain your composure as Spencer laid on top of you, pressing soft kisses to your cheek. 

After a moment, Spencer pulled out of you, a shudder leaving your body as you tried to adjust to the emptiness. He sat up on the side of the bed, looking back at your bare figure laying on display for him. The sheen of sweat that coated both of you was evident in the low light of the room as you let out a nervous laugh. “That was-” you stuttered, not able to finish your thought. 

Spencer looked at you, brows furrowed. “Great? Terrible?” he asked, his dominate facade crumbling as you caught of tinge of concern in his voice. 

“Amazing,” you whispered, offering him a small yet sincere smile. The two of you sat in silence for a minute before he rose from the bed, offering you a hand. “Where are we going?” you ask. 

“No bath this evening, since it’s quite late,” he said, glancing at the clock, “but I think we both could use a quick shower before we go to bed.” You took his hand with a shy smile as he led you back to his bathroom, warming up the shower as you sat on the edge of the sink. 

You thought about the words he’d uttered minutes before, wondering if he had meant what he said about the lecture hall. “Did you mean what you said?” you asked. 

“About what?” he said, turning back from the shower to face you. 

“About watching me in the lecture hall… and about the… other stuff you want to do,” you said shyly, a deep blush settling into you cheeks. 

Spencer approached you, leaning on the bathroom counter with his arms on either side of your legs, caging you in. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes on yours offering an unwavering gaze. “Every word,” he said. “Which means,” Spencer pulled away from you, helping you step down from the counter and holding the shower curtain open for you, “that you, my star student, should stay after class when I dismiss early next week.” 

As your jaw dropped, Spencer landed a playful smack on your ass before climbing in the shower behind you, closing the curtain. This man will be the death of me, you thought.

[de4dlyniightshade]

Was doing my psych hw last night thinking about how professor!Spencer would 10000% help u with your psychology work for his class … and maybe dick warm with u for a little motivation 🥹🥹

omfg absolutely.

i can also imagine him asking you to stay behind if you were struggling with something, patting his lap for you to sit so he can explain it to you all sweetly, a complete contradiction to the way he's gripping your hips and pulling you down onto his hardening length, forcing you to grind on him until he doesn't have to, watching as you grind yourself on him, gripping the edge of his desk as you whimpered his name.

he'd ask you all condescendingly if you want him inside just to hear you beg him pathetically before he lifted you just enough to pull your skirt up over your ass and undo his pants, tugging them down and pushing your underwear to the side before guiding himself into you, pushing in all at once and holding you there, forcing you to take all of him, the sound of you letting out little whimpers making him coo at you, brushing your hair off your shoulder to press a kiss there, his hands running up and down your waist soothingly.

"when you get it right, you'll get a reward, how does that sound?" he murmured into your ear, smiling to himself as you nodded quickly, already fucked out just from him being inside you.

[ddejavvu]

For multiverse Monday, could you do professor!Spencer who is infatuated with one of his students and keeps asking her to come see him and she is really shy and insecure and worries that she’s not doing good at school? Like she could never believe HE was attracted to her ? Angsty, smutty whatever you’d like 🤌🏼

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

--

Professor Reid had gone from reminding you of his office hours to blatantly asking you to stay after class. You hadn't taken his suggestion seriously, you'd assumed he told everyone what times they could come and meet him, but when he leaves a penned note on the top of the paper he returns to you that says 'See me after class :)', you begin thinking it might be something about you specifically.

Your legs shake as you try packing up slower than the rest of his students, hopeful that you don't look like someone who's in trouble or about to fail the class. His kind, red-inked smiley face had done nothing to deter your nerves, and you approach his desk while your hands toy with the strap of your bag.

He greets you with an expression similar to the one he'd drawn on your paper, and gestures to the chair opposite his own, "Take a seat."

You're expecting him to pull out a laptop and display your less-than-perfect grade, or, because of his anti-technology preference, a gradebook. But he leans across the desk instead, studying you with that gentle smile.

"You're not in trouble," He notes your fiddling fingers, "I just wanted to speak with you."

"What about?" You inquire, then as an afterthought, "-Professor?"

"Well, I don't feel like I know you very well," He confesses, "You're very formal in your emails, and you don't speak much during class. I just wanted to make sure I hadn't upset you?"

Your eyes widen briefly, "Oh, no! No, professor, nothing- nothing like that I just-" You gnaw at the inside of your cheek, "I just don't talk much."

"I understand," He smiles, "Personally, I talk too much. I just wanted to make sure you weren't upset with me, I'd really like to get to know you more."

You attempt a weak smile, barely able to function at his flattering remarks, "There's not much to know, I'm afraid."

"I think you're selling yourself short," His voice has a soothing component that disarms any discomfort you might have felt at being so open with your professor, and you're thankful for that as you relax slightly into your seat.

"But I'm sure you have another class to get to. You're free to go, if you'd like, but I meant it. I'd love it if you came to ask questions during office hours, or stopped after class to chat. You don't need to be afraid of me, Y/N."

"Alright," You nod, already rising from your chair. You don't have another class to get to, you'll just need 3-5 business days to recover from your very handsome professor telling you he'd like to get to know you better.

"Uh, thank you, Professor," You smile, and this time it's not marred with worry, "I'll- I'll maybe come to office hours on Thursday?"

"I'd love to see you there," He nods, watching as you trek up the stairs towards the exit, "10 AM to 12 PM, don't forget!'

You think you might get the times tattooed on your arm just to guarantee you'll never miss a meeting.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 23: coffee shop

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

This one is even longer than my favorite and although at first I didn't have an idea, I loved the final result. I hope you like it!

The movie on your phone was interrupted by the bell ringing, alerting you that some customers had just entered.

Your aunt had owned the modest cafe you were now in for most of her life and now that she was too tired to take care of it anymore and the money was already enough for a comfortable life, she decided it was time to sell it.

The transaction was still in process and you were there that day to cover for her while she went to a doctor's appointment, hoping that the day would be calm enough so that you could finish the movie series you were watching and, perhaps, make some progress in your schoolwork.

“Good morning, how can I help you?”

Your friendly smile seemed to please the couple of girls in front of you and they took a moment to decide what they wanted, until finally they told you what they wanted. You had worked as a barista for a while elsewhere and it wasn't difficult for you to prepare the lattes that they waited patiently for, while they carried on a conversation that you heard fragments of, but didn't understand.

A minute later, when you took another look at the line, you realized that there was a man behind them and you stopped for a moment to look at him carefully. He was older than you but you also noticed that he was very handsome and dressed like an executive, very different from the kind of people who frequented the establishment.

Once you were done you placed both drinks on the counter and the two girls, who had already held hands, thanked you and handed you a bill to pay.

“For a dollar more I can give you some cookies, we have chocolate and walnuts, would you like that? They will taste delicious with the latte you ordered” you offered kindly, showing them the product in the basket you had next to you “They are homemade and a sweet gift for a loved one.”

Your sales strategy seemed to convince them both and one of them gave you the missing dollar. You packed the things and before they left you wished them a good day, trying to be as polite as possible. When the couple left the place, the man walked to the front and you repeated the question at the beginning, a little nervous after noticing that he was even more handsome up close; he had slightly curly and messy hair, a discreet trace of facial hair around his pink lips, and beautiful honey-colored eyes that made you shiver.

“I wanted to ask you, is Mrs. Smith here?”

“No, she had to go to a doctor's appointment,” you responded, somewhat embarrassed. The idea of who he could be didn't even cross your mind, as you were too worried about recording as many details as possible about your attractive client “Who's looking for her?”

“My name is Spencer,” he replied. The name sounded captivating coming from his lips and there was something about his smile that made you feel nervous.

“I can call to tell her that you are here”

“No, if she's busy I'd rather come another time,” he murmured. The thought of what this man might want intrigued you and before he even turned around you rushed to say something, anything, to hold him back.

“Don't you want to drink coffee?” your words sounded small and rushed and you didn't even know why you had said them. That man would be, according to your calculations, about ten years older than you, but that didn't stop you from appreciating his beauty and wanting to be nice to him “You look like…” you began to say, feigning a thoughtful tone, “an espresso man. You know, something serious and strong”

Again, your attempt to attract customers seemed to be working, you knew by the small smile that formed on his lips.

“In fact it's quite the opposite,” he murmured, taking another step towards you that he had taken away “I'm a big lover of cappuccinos. The sweeter the better."

“Well, that's definitely a surprise,” you murmured, batting your eyelashes without even being aware of it “My aunt should be back soon and we have a cappuccino machine here. You can wait for her. If you want,” you added, hoping you didn’t sound too forward.

You saw him debate for a moment whether he should consider your offer or not and apparently something in your childish and kind eyes convinced him to accept, which you celebrated with a huge smile.

“Regular, vanilla, or mocha?”

“Regular, please,” he responded, walking to the nearest table so he could take a seat. All the furniture was shabby and rustic, with bright color combinations that had already worn out over the years “And you work here?”

“No, I'm just helping out today. There was an employee, but she had to resign for personal reasons and since my aunt is selling the cafe, we thought it would be more prudent for the new owner to hire whoever he wanted.”

“Huh, now there will be a new administration? Who is it about?" you weren't very used to sharing information with strangers, but you wanted to continue having this man's attention and if that was the way to do it, you would take the risk.

“My aunt said he is a Doctor Reid. I think she's known him for years because he comes here often for coffee and when he found out she wanted to retire... well, he offered” you could see him from above the counter and although you thought you saw a little smile, you thought you were just imagining it “Are you a frequent customer?”

“You could say so,” he responded and you swore there was a bit of mockery in his response.

You had already put the ingredients in the machine and now all you had to do was wait, praying inside that no other person would cross the door so you could have your little moment with that mysterious gentleman.

“I hope the new owner considers remodeling. There is a university near here and many young people could come if there were some more flashy things. You know, something that looks cute on Instagram”

“Instagram?” he asked, as if you were speaking to him in a strange language.

“The social network,” you answered obviously and he was quick to nod his head, as if he had just remembered what that was.

“Sorry, I'm just not very techie,” he apologized, with a sheepish smile. “But I think you're right, maybe this site could use a change. This way it would stop being full of old people like me and young people like you would enjoy coming.”

Was he describing himself as old? How old was he supposed to be? The question was drowned out on your lips because the machine announced that the drink was ready and you ran back to finish preparing it. You did your best to place a pretty design on the top of the liquid and then left the counter to hand the man the cup, accompanied by one of the cookies you had sold to the previous girls.

“It looks delicious,” he hummed, receiving the coffee from your hands and accidentally brushing your fingers. His hands looked calloused and big; the kind capable of holding you perfectly “Should I pay now or later?”

"Oh, don’t worry. It is courtesy of the house”

Again, you didn't even know why you were offering that to the man, and although he seemed surprised, he didn't protest at your show of kindness. You thought about how daring it would be to sit at the same table as him and in the end, you decided that the best thing was to return to your place behind the counter, now with no intention of watching your movie because if that were the case you would miss out on the good view that destiny had given you.

“If you need something else, you can tell me. We have some books on the shelf over there, if you feel like reading while you wait.”

Spencer thanked you and then you thought it would be best not to ask him any more questions or he would probably feel harassed. You saw him get up from his seat to listen to your suggestion and take a book, on the cover of which you managed to read Crime and Punishment. You wanted to tell him that you had read it for a college assignment, but instead you bit your tongue, reflecting that this information was something he clearly wasn't interested in. 

You stayed as composed as possible and he didn't seem to notice your gaze on him, or if he did, he didn't say anything of it. There were no customers the entire time he was drinking his coffee and when you thought about preparing something else for him, a clatter filled the air: it was your aunt, at the door, holding a shopping bag in one hand.

"Oh hello!" she greeted, both to you and to the man who was waiting patiently “Honey, why didn't you tell me that someone came looking for me?”

“I asked her not to, Mrs. Smith.” Spencer answered for you, getting up from his chair and leaving the book on the table, next to the empty cup “I didn't want to interrupt your activities.”

“Well, now I'm here. "Just let me leave these purchases and I'll be right back to discuss the contract, Doctor Reid.”

Contract? Doctor Reid? 

“I'll wait for you here” he smiled. Your aunt crossed the counter to enter the warehouse and you followed her like a lost puppy, trying to find an explanation for what you had just heard.

As soon as you were inside you stood next to the woman to get her attention, making sure to be out of the man's hearing range.

“Is that Doctor Reid?” you hissed.

“Yes, he didn't tell you?”

"No!" you squeaked, while she looked around for a folder with the documents she needed “I mean, he told me his name was Spencer, but he didn't tell me his last name. And since you said he was a doctor, I imagined a grumpy mister, not someone like him"

“But he is a mister, he is in his forties.”

"How many?" you screamed again, unwilling to believe what she was telling you “But he… he's so handsome! I thought he would be around thirty at most. How can he be forty?”

“Do you think he's handsome?” she asked and this time she did look at you. You had always had a good relationship with her, so her older woman's scowl judging you didn't offend you like it should.

“Of course,” suddenly your head seemed to remember an important detail and your entire face turned red, while your mouth opened in a soft oh “Damn, I even bought him a coffee! I just gave the future owner of this place a coffee, what is he going to think of me?”

“Youth, youth, you are becoming more and more indecent!” she murmured, half joking and half complaining. When she finally found her folder she grabbed it, ready to get out of it again, when you stopped her by her arm.

“Please don't go telling him that I think he's handsome,” you begged and she assured you that she wouldn't do it.

When you came out again, luckily, there were already some customers waiting and that gave you an excuse to escape from the amused look that the man you had been talking to had. The time you spent preparing people's drinks was enough for them to talk about the purchase and sale contract and for both of their signatures to finally be on the pages of paper.

“I know that this little corner is in good hands, I trust that you will take care of it”

“And of course I will, ma'am. While I was waiting for you, your niece kindly suggested a remodel and I think that will be the first thing I will do. I will keep the essence, but with a modern touch, right?” he smiled, giving you a kind look from his spot as if he were seeking your approval.

“I said it with the best of intentions,” you admitted sheepishly “If I'm honest, I didn't even know that you were the future owner, otherwise I think I would have treated you better.”

“Better than your friendly attitude, free coffee, and advice?” he asked and you almost thought he was returning your previous attempts at flirting, as if that amused him no end.

“What I want most is to see this place full of people again and I think a remodel would be perfect” your aunt smiled “Give me this week to take out my things and then the cafe will be all yours”

“Take as much time as you need, Amy. You will always be welcome here as if the place were yours,” he told her, with a sweetness inappropriate for a grown man, while he wrapped her in a hug. When he pulled away his eyes landed on you. “And you too, Miss Y/N. If you are interested in obtaining a permanent job, I would be happy to hire you. I’ll need someone young to help me give it that youthful touch.”

You wish you could say that his offer didn't flatter you, but that would be a vile lie. You looked at your aunt for a second and she already had a smile that bordered on disapproval of your victory, but she also hid some amusement at the situation.

“I need to talk about it with my parents and review my schedule at the university, but… I would love to, to tell the truth. Even if I am not a permanent employee I will continue to live here to shop”

And to see you, you wanted to say, but again you held back. 

“I'll look forward to your visits then,” he murmured, giving you a bright new smile.

From that moment on you knew that your aunt's old coffee shop would become the number one place for social gatherings, solitary visits to do homework and, with any luck, free afternoons to chat with the handsome and charming owner.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger @missabsey

[0anonnymouslyours0]

w; making out, grinding, dirty talk?

season 1-2 reid wouldn't make any sound, not even a whimper

i think its because of his lack of experience.

you've been kissing for a few minutes, movie long forgotten even though its one of your favourites. your now above him, hips pinning down his own. experimentally, you roll against his hips, a whimper leaving your lips at the friction. but reid makes no sound. you break the kiss, frowning at his lack of reaction.

"spence?"

"mh, yeah?" he says, a little breathlessly.

you pout, rolling your hips again. his eyes snap closed, his jaw tightening at your movement. you raise your hand from the couch, running it through his hair, as you lean down to kiss him again.

you tug at his hair quickly, and a small restrained whimper leaves his mouth. you lean back, smiling triumphantly.

"there we go, c'mon baby make some noise for me."

reid groans at your words, hips rutting up to meet yours once again.

you smirk, leaning back to kiss him again.

"i love hearing you.." you whisper against his lips

[stairain]

Yes, Professor.

Part 2 to “Bad Idea” -> What follows after a jealous argument between Professor Spencer and his student.

NSFW part 3

Warnings: Dom Spencer, Professor/Student relationship, 10+ year age gap (No defined ages, but reader is over 20, Spencer is under 40), strong power play/dynamic, the nickname “Little girl” is used many times, intimidation, praise, very rough sex, crying, choking, vaginal sex, blowjob, hair pulling, squirting, creampie, breeding, manhandling, degradation, slapping, handcuffs, backshots.   

WC: 6.3K

You swallow at how intimidatingly sexy his aura is, and you look up at him with nothing but lust and love in your eyes. “And.. outside of work.. I’m yours?”

"Yes, that's right." Spencer replies confidently and seductively, as he nods his head. "Outside of work... you're all mine. Do you like that...? The thought that you can have me?" he asks teasingly, smiling a little bit. "The thought that you are mine... and only yours? Does it make your heart skip a beat?"

He moves his hand to play with the collar of your shirt, noticing the way your eyes follow whatever he does. 

You nod almost immediately and your mouth opens in a pleasured sigh.

 “Y-Yes, Sir.” 

"The thought feels good, doesn't it...?"

He leans down closer to you, and his brows arch in faux curiosity, as if exploring this feeling right alongside you. His tone is filled with nothing but desire now.

 "And.. what if I were to..."—He asks as he moves so he is leaning closer to you until he is practically on top of you— "Show you just how good it feels...?" He asks gently as he leans in.

"Would you like that... princess?" His breath grows even warmer as he speaks and you can see how his eyes are filled with nothing but love, lust, and passion.

You start breathing heavier and you feel your heart practically beating out of your chest as you look up at your Professor towering over you. You feel small, weak. But, you nod. 

“I would love that.. Professor. I’m yours.”

"Say it for me, princess..." He says in a hushed voice, as if somewhere were listening. 

"Say it.. say those words, so I know you really feel them." 

Spencer's eyes are locked on yours and the look on his face tells you he'll be waiting until you say those words, no matter how long it takes. You swallow nervously. 

“I’m yours, Professor. I belong to you and only you, forever.” 

A look of pure ecstasy comes onto his face as you say those words  like he's just received the best news of his life, like those words are truly beautiful. 

"Yeah, that's right, isn’t it?" 

He whispers into what thin space sits between the two of you, as he slowly, slowly moves in closer and makes sure to press his body to yours, as you feel his muscles right up against yours. 

"Say it again, Angel.. Say that you're mine again."

You feel his hand snake to the back of your head and softly grab a fistful of hair, he doesn’t pull, just grips it in his strong palm, a ‘gentle’ reminder. 

“I’m yours, Sir.” You moan out as you feel his strong chest pressing into you. He licks his lips at how absolutely wrecked you already sound. 

"That's right, You belong to me.. and only to me, and no one else." 

He adds again in that low, husky tone. His eyes continue to shine and he leans in. Your mouth falls open in a quiet moan as he finally pulls on your roots.

Spencer watches with a dark fog in his eyes at the way you react to the hair-pulling, and a devilish smirk creeps its way onto his face.

"Oh... does that feel good, princess? Does it feel good to know you belong to me?" He questions softly and yet still with a certain intensity to his voice and his eyes, as he leans in a little closer. "Does it feel better when I pull on this pretty little hair of yours...?"  

“Yes, Professor.. It does. It feels so good belonging to you.. It feels so good to have your hands on me..” 

You moan softly when his grip on you tightens, and you can feel his fist twist on your head. At your noises, you can feel him hardening underneath the coarse fabric of his dress pants. He could no doubt feel how soaked you were at this point, even though nothing has happened.

"Oh, sweetheart... I could never put into words just how much I love owning you, I'm not sure there are enough words in the English language to describe it..." 

Spencer leans into your neck to press a wet kiss to it before leaning back looking softly and lovingly into your glassy eyes. 

"You're my life... my entire world... Do you know that, princess? Do you have any idea how much I love you?" He twists his fist harder, and his grip tightens even more. "Can you understand that?"

“Show me how much you love me.. I think I need a little help understanding, Sir.” 

You tease with a bratty smile on your face. A look of determination to get exactly what you want washes over your expression, and he’s quick to catch on.

"Is that so?" He asks, in that low, husky, passionate tone. That same tone that made you press your thighs together in arousal, the same one that was causing you to absolutely soak through the thin fabric of your underwear. 

"I can help you understand, maybe not with words.. But, I can help you in other ways..."

“Yeah? How are you going to do that, Sir?” 

"Well, I can think of a few ways I could show you..." he replies a little bit coyly... "If you're sure you want me to, because once I start to show you there's no going back. Are you ready for that?" 

Despite the explicit nature of his inquiry, the soft, caring tone never left his voice. You nod your head the best you can with his hand in your hair.

“Yes, Sir. I promise I’m ready for it.” 

"Good girl." His grip in your hair suddenly stops as he drops both of his hands to your waist. You’re maneuvered so you’re sitting on his lap, straddling him, and pressed right up against that rock solid bulge of his. 

He slowly starts to kiss down your neck, a soft one. His lips are just barely brushing against your skin, like a feather. And yet, just one touch is enough to send chills down your spine and you know your professor is only going to get more passionate from here.

With his hands on your hips, you take the initiative to start rolling them, brushing your aching cunt over his hard cock. It was too bad there were many layers of clothing beneath you, but you swore you could see the damp marks of your arousal starting to stain his slacks.

"That's right... that's right, babygirl.. You’re doing so well" Spencer groans out at the feeling. "You feel so good... God do you feel good."

You moan louder at his praise, you could never get tired of it. All you wanted to do was please him, and be a good student for him. Your small body shakes in pleasure when he leans in and suddenly bites at the sensitive barren skin of your neck. Marks were the last thing you needed to keep this relationship a secret, but you knew you couldn’t say no to him. 

You were his, you took that vow. 

The rolling of your hips and the grinding of your pussy against him didn’t cease, and when he pulled away from your neck, panting, you know he wants you, needs you, as much as you wanted and needed him. 

“Take off your shirt.” 

Spencer says through his heavy breathing, he already looks disheveled, and you’d be lying if you said it didn't make your heart swell.

You reach for the bottom hem of your top and look up at him with teasing eyes as you expose your stomach to him.

“Like this?”

Spencer nods with blackened eyes as he watches you take your shirt off. He looks down at you and you see that same predatory look in his eyes right now.

 "Yeah, just like that.. that's a good girl." He sighs in a deeply passionate tone "You can be good for me, right? Take the rest off for me."

You nod and sit up fully, then pull your shirt off, leaving you in your bra as you look up at him, awaiting his next command.

Spencer gulps a little bit as you expose the lacy fabric of your bra, his eyes widening even more when he stares at the way you’re practically spilling out of your bra. 

"Get rid of it."

You swallow the spit pooling your mouth but nod nonetheless and get to work immediately. Your hands find the clasp of your bra and quickly undo the hooks. Soon enough, you’re pulling the straps down your arms, and dropping your bra on the ground.

Spencer's eyes follow the movements of your hands as you remove your bra like that. He lets out a deep, slow breath that is filled with the most intense lust for you, as he watches your bra fall onto the ground.

 "Look at you, sweet thing.." 

His hand comes out to cup one of your breasts, thumbing the soft and full skin. You shiver and watch as a smile creeps onto his face when your nipples harden. 

You feel intimidated by his gaze and touch, and you force yourself to speak to fill the thick tension between the two of you.

“What would you like me to do next, sir?”

Spencer chuckles a little bit at the waver in your voice, and then he suddenly moves one of his hands and places it directly under your thighs to change your positions. Then, you’re suddenly laying against the couch with your head resting on the arm, looking up at him as he mounts you. 

"Take off your pants." He commands. "Take all of it off for me."

You nod and your fingers frantically find the zipper of your jeans. Once you unzip them, you push them down your hips. As soon as your pants are off, you’re left only in your thin underwear. You look up at his predatory gaze and feel yourself becoming more and more aroused. 

His eyes flicker down to the wet patch that covers your pussy. He can’t help but lick his lips as his breaths become shallower. 

“Good girl..." Spencer whispers out again, the desire in his eyes is clearly stronger than ever. "Now... turn around..." he adds, and a sinister smile starts to spread across his face. 

You quickly flip yourself around so you’re face down on the couch, and your back is turned to him. Your soft butt almost but not quite pressing up against his hips. 

"Now..." His voice is lowering even further now until it's just a breath. "Lift yourself up a little more, my love."

You arch your back and lift your ass up a bit towards him, listening to exactly what he tells you to do. It practically pains you to stop yourself from backing yourself up onto him, wanting so desperately to feel his heavy cock against you. 

"Oh... that's a good girl." 

His hands reach out to squeeze the fat of your hips, and you can’t help but moan at the thought of him manhandling you.

"See.. Now you're getting the idea." His voice grows even lower, deeper, and louder. And his eyes, oh his eyes. They’re shining with that same look of pure lust, of malice, something that just screamed how much he wanted to take control of you. 

"Just a little bit more..." he adds... "Just lift yourself up a bit more, angel"

You lift your lower body higher and higher until the arch of your body resembles that of a slope. Your head is pressed hard against the soft cushions of the couch, and your ass is proudly facing him. 

"You're so beautiful, baby girl. You're perfect, you're mine.. you belong to me..."

“All yours, Sir. This is all yours..” You sway your hips lightly, taunting him.

Spencer's eyes go wide again, and he pushes himself forward to slot the thick bulge he’s sporting between the defined flesh of your ass.

"You're everything I could ever want, so beautiful.. all mine." 

He moans at the contact of finally being able to rub himself against you, but he forces himself to back away. You huff to yourself when he moves away from you.

"Just one more thing to do." he whispers, more to himself than to you. "Turn yourself around.. turn around."

You turn back around to face him, and when you’re finally facing him once more, you move your hands down to play with the band of your underwear. You look up at him and bite your lip, awaiting his next move.

"You look so good.. So good.” 

His hand reaches out and holds your waist, he curses under his breath.

“Take them off, need to see that pretty pussy of yours.."

You slip your fingers between your skin and the band and begin to pull your underwear down seductively. He’s practically burning your skin with the way he’s looking at you. A moan slips out of your mouth when you find your panties sticking to you. Stringy arousal connects from your cunt to the fabric. 

"That's it. That's a good girl.. show me-" 

Before he can even finish his sentence, you instinctively spread your legs for him. His eyes widen and his smirk grows when his eyes lock on your most intimate area. The soft light in the living room catches the sticky slick dripping from your pussy, and he can’t stop the way his tongue pokes out from his lips and licks over them.

"Turn around once again for me, princess"

You close your legs and squint at him.

“Why don’t you make me turn around, sir?”

Spencer scoffs and reaches out to grab your throat. You try to gasp out in surprise, but find that you can’t

"You've got some nerve, don't you?" he asks with a lustful laugh. "But fine, if that’s what you think you want..” 

Spencer's eyes shine bright with delight at this new bratty attitude you’re sporting, but he knows you’re all talk. He lets go of your throat, and gives you a light slap across your face, a warning. As he takes in what you just said  he lets out a slow breath, and then, with that predatory look still in his eyes, both of his hands are on your body, and without even hesitating, he moves you onto your hands and knees, just like that. 

You moan out in surprise when you’re forced onto your hands and knees by him, you’re fully bare and exposed for him. His intimidating gaze on you makes your skin run hot, and you know he’s staring right at your dripping hole. 

“Oh.. What happened, baby.. Feeling shy, now?"

“Yes, Sir.. I can't help it.” You hide your face in the cushion of the couch as you arch your back further for him. You can feel your folds fluttering around nothing as slick drips down your thighs. 

He takes a deep breath and without another single word to you, he moves so he’s pressed right against you. You whimper at the feeling of the rough fabric brushing against your sensitive and soft cunt. No doubt you’ve soaked his pants now. 

Spencer reaches down to grab another fistful of your hair, and pulls you up slightly. 

"Look at me..." he whispers... "Look at me, when I talk to you. You know better than that, angel"

You immediately turn your head and whimper at his forceful tone. You look up at him from where your cheek is pressed into the couch as you apologize. 

“Yes, Sir.. I’m sorry sir.”

“You say you’re mine, but you can’t even remember a simple rule. You just can’t help but talk back to me.." Spencer whispers as he looks down at you, almost as if you were a treasure, an object that belonged just to him.

"You're my property... nothing but my plaything. You belong to me..." His voice is just as deep as before, growing even deeper as he speaks. "Do you understand?" 

“Y-Yes, Professor.. I belong to you.” You all but wail out at the way he was speaking to you, and the way he was treating you. 

"There you go.. there's a good girl.." 

Spencer smiles as he sees you get broken down by him, he huffs out a heavy breath as the carnivorous look in his eyes only deepens.

“And you love it, don't you..?You love it when I control you like this.. Because you," —He pulls you by your hair again and almost snaps your neck with the force.— “Are such a good little student for me, aren’t you?”  

You can't even bring yourself to words at this point, already too lost in pleasure. You knew how wrong it was, to hold your role over your head like this, especially with something so intimate, and yet you couldn’t stop the way your head spun with arousal.

"And just so there's no confusion, so there's no doubting that you're actually mine.. I'm going to mark you."

Your eyes widen and you open your mouth in protest. But it seems he’s already a step ahead of you. 

“And I don’t give a fuck who asks you about them, you will keep that mouth of yours shut. Understood?” 

Swallowing, you whimper out an answer that somewhat resembles an agreement. 

"How are you going to mark me, sir?"

Spencer smirks a little bit, and you see the look in his eyes completely change now, there’s a stronger sense of dominance washed over him that wasn’t quite there before.

"You're about to find out, little girl..." he whispers, his voice as cold as ice now. "Now. turn yourself around one last time.” 

You quickly turn around, listening to him now seemed like the best option. His tone was more serious than it had been the entire night, you didn't want to see what would happen if you disobeyed him.

Spencer's eyes light up again as you do so, his dangerous look returns at this moment, and as you turn around to face him, he moves to get even closer.

"Good girl, always so obedient when you want to be" He whispers in your ear, making shivers shoot right down your spine. 

"Now... just stay right there. And don't you dare move... understood?" he adds, raising his voice even more.

"Yes, sir. I won't move, I promise, I'll be good for you."

"Oh, I'm sure you will." He almost scoffs, he knows how you can be.

He reaches down, and without another word, he pulls a pair of handcuffs from his pocket  and now that sinister look in his eyes has completely taken over. 

Your breath hitches when you hear the metal clinking together and when you see him holding the cuffs in his hand, a sinister look plastered on his face.

Since when does he carry those around? How long has he been carrying them? 

Is what you’d like to ask, but you’re afraid to speak when you haven’t been spoken to yet. So you opt to stay quiet, keeping those thoughts to yourself.

"What's the matter, hm?" Spencer whispers, as he sees the fear in your eyes. "Are you scared?" he asks, the coldness once again in his voice as he leans in further. He dangles the cuffs right in your face, taunting you. 

"Oh really...?" The brunet asks with a sinister laugh. The look in his eyes remains cold and predatory, and he continues that intense stare into your eyes as his voice grows even lower, his breath heavy and rough, yet, still calm. 

He looks like an animal, a predator who's caught its prey, and is going to take its time devouring it, as slowly, and as painfully as possible. 

"Are you sure about that?" His voice is just as cold and sinister as before, and the hungry look on his face even grows. "Don't lie to me, little girl." 

You shake your head and sputter out. 

"F-Fine.. Fine, I'm scared, sir. You won't hurt me, right?" 

It was stupid to ask, you knew that was exactly what he wanted to do to you. But you had hope. 

"Hurt you...?" Spencer scoffs, his voice is cold, his eyes hold that same look of hostility but the cruelest part is, he's still being polite, like it wasn’t turning him on beyond belief to treat you this way. He couldn’t reveal to you the way his painfully hard cock was leaking into his briefs, absolutely soaking the fabric through, no, he just had to drive you crazy.  

“Oh, I'm much worse than that..." he remarks, smiling in a cruel, sadistic way. "I'm going to break you."

You feel your chest rapidly rising and falling at his words. 

"B-Break me..?"

Spencer nods once. "Oh... yes”, and as he speaks, he forcefully takes your hands where they’re nestled against your body, and skillfully slips them onto you. “I'm going to break you, and once I'm done with you..." He fastens them around your wrists, tight. "You'll never be the same again."

You stay silent as panic fills your brain. Your mind is telling you to get away, but you just can’t. You need this more than anything.  

“You’ll never need anyone else but me.”

The tone in his voice, it’s unfamiliar. The possession in his voice is sickly sweet, he’s never been a jealous person, you were usually the one who worried about that. 

You fidget with the cuffs, trying to escape. You know it’s not possible, but fear seemed to be what turned him on the most right now, and truthfully, if you weren’t fucked soon, you might just truly break the cuffs and ride him until he was the broken one.

You’re broken out of your trance of thoughts when you feel his rough fingers prod at your wet cunt. He uses his fingers to push and separate your folds, and he almost can’t even move them without his fingers slipping, you were just so wet for him.

The professor doesn’t even look up at you when he slides his middle finger into you, watching at the way your pussy hungrily swallows up the digit. He bites his lip at the wet noises you produce, all by yourself. He pumps the finger in and out of you, finally fucking you, but not in the way you really really needed. 

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take, sweetheart. I can practically feel you begging for me.” 

And he was right, with the way you clenched around his single finger, swallowing what little pleasure he gave you. 

“P-Please, Sir. Don’t hold back, I’m yours.. You know I’m yours..” 

You spread your legs wider and despite being cuffed, you reach your hands down to grab the finger that's buried inside of you, and bring it up to your lips, pushing it eagerly inside your mouth to taste yourself. 

With skillful eyes, and an even more skilled mouth, you swirl your warm tongue over his sticky, coated finger, every action you carry out just begging him to fuck you already. 

While you’re sucking on his finger, his unoccupied hand attempts to unclasp his belt buckle, and when you see him struggling, you sit up to help him. But as soon as you reach your hands out to undo his belt, a strong hand slaps you across the face. The finger in your mouth is gone, and all you’re left with is a stinging cheek. 

“Keep your hands to yourself, little girl. Don’t disappoint me.” 

You nod but feel your eyes brim with tears. You’re forced to watch him as he pulls off his belt, and pulls down his work pants. His cock is nearly bursting out of his underwear, you can see how raised the fabric is, and how positively soaked it is. You lick your lips. “Please..” 

Spencer looks up at you and smirks, it wouldn’t be surprising if he were a mind reader, you wouldn’t put it past him. He frees himself from the confines of his underwear, and his heavy cock bobs in the air. You moan at the sight before you could even stop yourself. 

He stands up from the couch and stands in front of you. One of his hands weaves itself into your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail at the back of your head, and the other hand holds his thick length at the base. 

“Yeah? This what you wanted so badly? Open.” 

As if under a spell, your mouth immediately drops open in pure hunger. Spit was already pooling inside your mouth at just the mere sight of his dick. And surely enough, you got your fill. 

He guided his cock to your mouth and slapped the leaking tip against your warm tongue, he moaned out at the feeling, and the grip on your hair tightened. You could see the strings of his precum connecting from the head and your tongue. 

With begging eyes, you look up at him, just pleading to put it in, already. 

And in one quick slide, he sheaths his entire cock into your mouth, stretching your lips around him. Your eyes roll back into your head at the taste of him on your tongue and down your throat, it was heavenly. 

With the ponytail he had created, he begins forcefully moving your head back and forth on his dick, using your warm, tight mouth as nothing but a hole. He threw his head back in pleasure as he face fucked you, like you were some cheap whore. 

The blunt head caught on the rim of your mouth every time he moved you back, and his knees almost buckled at the feeling. Spit and precum absolutely drenched your skin, it was dripping down your chin, and covering the expanse of your neck and chest. 

Through stifled moans and groans, he manages to speak.

“F-Fuck, angel.. Might not even need to fuck you.. Could do this all day..” 

You whined from around your mouthful and tried your best to pout, your attempt not going unnoticed as he let out a breathy laugh. 

He pulls you away from his cock, and lets out one final moan at the way your spit created a web from his tip and your lips. 

“Turn around.”

In an instant, your ass is turned to him. The soft flesh of your unmarked behind tempting him, he wanted nothing more than to spank you, mark you, and fuck you so hard there’d be bruises from his hip bones. 

You bent over the arm of the couch, and your cuffed hands were resting against your arched back. Then, a shaking hand reached out and parted your pussy, and you heard a soft moan. 

“Everything alright, Professor?” You look back at him, and he somehow looks more disheveled than you do. You took a moment to examine his appearance. His hair was sweaty, yet still fluffy. His dress shirt was wrinkled, his tie uneven, and his pants pulled down to his thighs. He was still somewhat fully dressed, and here you were, bending over and exposing your drenched pussy to him. It did nothing to comfort the fact that he had so much power over you, and you were nothing compared to him. 

“Yes, love. Eyes in front of you.”

You nod and turn back around, your heart beating impossibly fast and your breath shuddering. And even though you knew it was coming, when the blunt head of his soaked cock pressed right up against your folds, you couldn’t help but gasp out. But you weren’t the only one caught off guard, you felt the cushion dip under your knees when his body faltered and he doubled over in pleasure, almost collapsing over you. 

“Fuck me, you’re so perfect, princess. Always so wet for me.” 

Spencer reached out and grabbed the chain of the handcuffs and yanked on them, using them as leverage to start fucking into you. He didn’t even bother starting out slow and easing into it, it’s not like you both wanted that anyways. 

His thrusts carried a viscous, predatory, feeling. The way his cock plowed into your fleshy walls, absolutely claiming you as his, nothing about it was loving. This wasn’t about love anymore, he was claiming you as his, making sure to fuck you so hard, mark you so badly, you’d never be able to be fucked by anyone else but him again. 

You could feel him absolutely bashing up against your spot, and it took everything in you not to paint his cock and couch in your cum. You know how disappointed you’d be if you came right now, but then again, he wouldn’t stop for hours if he wasn’t satisfied, even if you had squirted 5 times and were on the brink of passing out. 

It was like he was molding your cunt to be perfectly fit for him, so if anyone ever dared to even try to fuck you like he was right now, it just wouldn’t be right. He pulled against the chain and used it to fuck into you like you were nothing but a sex doll to him. And with the way he was treating you right now, you wouldn’t be surprised if that’s all you were to him.

“Oh my god..” 

You cried out moan after moan into the couch cushion at his thrusts, they were wrecking your body and lurching you forward with each collision of his boney hips against your plushy ass. You push yourself back against him in time with his own thrusts, and he bites his lip with a smile. 

“Such a good little girl, you are.” Spencer lets go of the chain, and picks you up by your waist instead. You yelp out in surprise at suddenly being lifted, not expecting this position at all, but after all, he knew what was best for you. He knew how to fuck you, how to treat you.. You didn’t know anything. 

He begins to aggressively shove his dick into your abused hole, manhandling you and fucking you for all you were worth, which was close to nothing at this point. He dug his fingers into the flesh of your waist and hips as he used you as a personal cocksleeve for him. 

It was like every time he pounded into your spot, a metaphorical bell rang off in his head, signifying success. And if you knew anything about your professor, it was that he was quite the overachiever. 

The puffy lips of your pussy stretched as you were stuffed full by his cock, and your only choice now was to sob and scream in pleasure, letting him use you. It’s all you were good for, and you always wanted to be so, so good for him. 

"Tell me who owns you, who owns this pretty little pussy..”

Your superior groaned out through the heavy breaths and hostile slapping that filled the room. You lifted your head the best you could and stuttered out. 

“Y-You.. I belong to you, Professor. No one else..” 

Spencer's breath grows a little bit heavier at this moment and his hungry gaze looks at you almost like you are some precious object, some beautiful treasure that belongs to him.

"That's right," Spencer moans out.

"Now make sure you remember that... my little girl."

How could you possibly forget? You had no one else, he was your everything. Your entire world. 

“I-I won’t, sir.. I promise.” 

You sob out, and feel yourself reaching your limit, the imaginary rubber band inside of you was being pulled farther and farther inside of you. With each pass of his long, thick, and hard cock inside of you, it was like he was stretching the band past its limit, seeing just how far he can pull it. 

A cruel smile spreads across his face as he begins to fuck you harder. His thrusts become sloppier, and you can certainly feel your slick and his precum already splashing out of your already stuffed full pussy. Your thighs are sticky, and the liquid becomes tackier every time his own thighs slap into yours. You’ve never felt dirtier. 

  “Sir- Sir.. Pl-Please..” 

At hearing your words, he lets go of your hips and waist and slams you back down onto the couch, pushing your head into the cushions and pressing your upper body into the soft surface. He forces you into an almost painful arch, just to fuck you like an animal in rut. His movements and sounds were primal, you felt like a piece of meat, and he was doing everything he could to leave no scraps left. 

“Shut the fuck up. You want to be a good girl for me? Then keep that pretty mouth shut.” 

He fucks into you even harder now, no doubt bruising the sensitive skin of your ass. You were being pushed way past your limit, but you held on for him, you wanted so desperately to be good for him, even if it was too much for you to handle, you wouldn’t cum until he let you. 

You buried your face into the couch and just let him hump into you, you clenched around him in pure need for nothing more than to explode around him. He all but growled at the feeling, and it only spurred him on to fuck you deeper. 

“My god, angel. You have no idea how hard it is to resist you..” You want so badly to tell him to not resist you then, but you know if you even attempted to open your mouth right now, you wouldn’t be cumming. 

You might be hallucinating it, but you think you hear him whine. Maybe you really did feel as good as he was making it seem, and when you feel his thrusts begin to falter and his breathing becoming erratic, you know you weren’t imagining it. You rendered him weak. 

“My little girl.. All mine, aren’t you? No one can fuck you this good, no one cares for you the way I do.. You’ll never need anyone else after this, only me.. Forever.” 

His words seem to not only urge himself on and his own release, but yours as well. Before you can even think about the consequences, the rubber band snaps. Your eyes roll back into your eyes in an almost exaggerated way as you feel every muscle in your body relax. 

And you absolutely paint him in your release. You gush around his thick cock, almost pushing him out of your hole at how hard you’re squirting around him. He feels the warm rush of liquid burst around him and positively soak his work pants, and his eyes just about completely darken at that point. 

“Oh my fucking god, Sir..” 

You feel your liquids coat your legs, the couch, and your professor. You’re sobbing at this point, your mouth hangs open and you drool from how dumb you’re being fucked. You’re soaking the couch in every liquid possible, all for him. 

“Just couldn’t hold it, could you, princess? So fucking bad, can’t listen to a single thing I say..” 

Spencer feels his resolve crumble down in front of his very eyes, as his mouth drops open in a painfully loud groan and he spills into you with everything he has. Warm, white, and thick. He explodes inside of you, but his cock was simply too big to let it leak out. So despite his release, he fucks his cum into you. 

His sperm bulges around his cock, coating himself inside your pussy. His hand reaches down to where you’re collapsed on his couch, and he grabs you by your throat. You try to moan but feel the air around you immediately become thinner. Leaning down and pulling you up, the two of you meet in the middle as he continues to hump you. 

“You know you’re such a good little girl for me, letting me use you however I like. God you’re so good, aren’t you?” 

His tone is so condescending in your ear, and you feel so wrong for letting it turn you on as much as it did. Your eyes roll back into your head, either from being choked, or because of the way he talks to you, you play it safe and assume both. 

With a final thrust, he moans loudly into your ear and throws you back down onto the couch. A sex doll, it’s all you were. 

Through pants and heavy breathing, he grabs himself at the base of his cock and pulls out of you. And god, you’re gushing when he leaves you empty. His cum immediately flows out of you like a fountain. His thick, hot release runs down your abused pussy, making you feel all the more used. 

And in a complete 180, the older man is suddenly pulling you into his lap, stroking your hair softly, letting you cry into his still clothed chest. He’s shushing your cries, trying to get you to calm down. 

You can still feel his release leaking out of you and onto his pants, but he doesn’t care in the slightest. Not when you’re this vulnerable for him. 

“Shhh, it’s.. It’s okay, angel.”

He brings your face to his and pulls you in a tender, sweet kiss. Like he was a completely different man from the one who was breeding you just a moment ago. He cradles you in his arms, and you feel safe, cared for, desired. 

The professor coos into your ear, praising you, letting you know how perfect you are, and how much he absolutely adores you. You find yourself smiling at the praise. 

But despite all his love and care, you couldn’t help but feel deep down, you’ll always just be a teacher’s pet to him. 

[tricoufamily]

need an antagonist for this (in the way that you know. l is the antagonist of death note). i don't have too much for this guy. he's also a professor, a new one to the university and the country even (he's american, it takes place in london). he sure got there in a hurry, running away from something in his past, idk what it is yet though. but yes he is suspicious of irving while everyone else is very sympathetic towards him, which has everyone against him, but he's still gonna pursue it

if i say homoerotic cat and mouse game i do not mean they are love interests. they are not. i mean that in the way that if this was a tv show i would be queerbaiting like it was 2013. for years. mind games with the audience. relentless and insane. they would write my name like showrunner k*rt because they hate me so much. kids these days will never understand how fun it is to be queerbaited actually smh

[dianasourflower]

wait a fucking minute-

THIS

is literally =

THIS

kill me if im wrong