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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

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The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 3)

Summary: Reader earns her nickname, and Spencer sinks to a new level of sin. A/N: Here, take your first dose of smut 💊 ✨ Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Drinking, alcohol, masturbation (male) Word Count: 5.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

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If I had to pick my favorite thing about working for Spencer Reid, it would probably be something that most people wouldn’t expect. Sure, it was nice to be able to work with a human encyclopedia, and he was definitely very nice to look at, but neither of those things contributed to my love for my job.

It was the sense of belonging. An overwhelming feeling of serenity that existed, flowing freely beneath the surface like a network of roots twined together. I never felt out of place when I was with Spencer — which couldn’t be said for basically any other time. Especially not now.

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays because it’s just absurd. You harass your neighbors while dressed in a costume and they reward you with something sweet (or, in some cases, change). As I’ve grown older, not much has changed aside from the creativity and length of the costumes.

... and the sweet treats being replaced by the bitter sting of alcohol.

“You do realize that guy was hitting on you in there, right?” my friend shouted from less than a foot to my right.

“He was just being nice.”

“Yeah... in a bar,” another girl chimed in, “On Halloween.”

I tried to remember the face of the man they were talking about, but my memory of his eyes blended into the flashing lights of the club. Even if I wasn’t drunk, I knew it would have been hard to remember him. Because the truth was that he wasn’t the person I wanted to see when I closed my eyes.

“Leave her alone. She’s trying to stay pure for her professor,” my friend snickered.

Despite the treachery, I still caught her before she almost pushed us both straight off the curb in her drunken state. But it wasn’t her opinion I was worried about, because at that point, I was certain she would remember none of it by the time class rolled around come Monday. It was our other acquaintance that I responded to, with a very squeaky and unreliable, “I am not doing that!”

“Yeah, what she wants isn’t pure at all,” the mess on my shoulder droned. That was enough of a reason for me to drop her, although it really resulted in both of us barely staying on our feet on the somewhat crowded sidewalk.

“Stop! It’s not like that!”

“Sure it’s not.”

Then, something else caught her attention. Knowing her, I figured that it was either a man in a scandalous costume, or it was a two for one drink deal plastered in front of a bar. I assumed it was the latter, because as soon as she finished talking, she grabbed hold of our hands and yanked us against the brick wall of the next bar.

“So you wouldn’t mind if, theoretically, Professor Reid saw you in your costume?” she asked.

I like to think that I am a relatively smart girl. After all, I had made my way to graduate school, and Spencer seemed to think that I wasn’t a complete hopeless idiot. But in that moment, I couldn’t understand why on earth she would ever think to ask me that.

Running my hands over the fuzzy pink bodysuit I was wearing, I tried to picture his reaction. As soon as I tried to look down, however, the two floppy bunny ears affixed to the hood dropped over my eyes.

“I-I mean, I guess not…?” I mumbled, my face growing hot from something other than the alcohol, “I’m wearing it in public, so...”

But then she said it — the most terrifying two words I’d ever heard in my life.

“Okay – good.”

My eyes shot up immediately, trying to follow her eyes through the crowd of drunk, costumed people. By the time that I spotted him, somewhat thankfully dressed in normal clothes, I was powerless to stop it.

“Dr. Reid!” My friend’s voice rang out into the night, “Dr. Reid, come over here!”

The moment our eyes met, I knew I was fucked. Totally, completely, and utterly fucked. A clever little grin filled his cheeks as he quickly spotted me trying to hide under my hood.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” I shrieked, but he was already on his way over.

“You said you didn’t mind!”

In a panicked whisper, I bit back, “I didn’t say call him over here!”

When he grew closer, though, I corrected myself. Because it was not just Spencer who was walking over. There was someone else with him. Another man, just as tall and just as beautiful as Spencer, but with a dark complexion and an even more wicked smile.

As for my company, they had already scattered into the bar behind me, leaving me with a wordless, dumbstruck look on my face that was very poorly hidden behind bunny ears.

“H-hey Prof— Dr. Reid,” I managed to get out.

“Hey,” he answered in a tone I’d never heard before. A slightly guarded, very entertained but mostly awkward stretch of the vowel.

The man beside him, however, was quick to question.

“Who’s this?”

As I said before, I like to consider myself a relatively bright person. But the alcohol that night had been both free and strong. So, when I was asked by a handsome man who I was on the Devil’s night, I answered honestly.

“I’m a bunny!” I cried, bringing my hands together over my chest and turning to present the small pink pompom affixed to my lower back.

“I can see that,” the stranger replied through a genuine chuckle. But while the action was amusing to at least two of us in the conversation, Spencer looked mortified. It wasn’t necessarily negative, though.

I couldn’t be sure, of course, considering that I had already consumed more liquor that night than I had in the past month, but something told me that Spencer was less humiliated by me, and more worried about how blatant his response to my answer was. Because when he spoke, he did so through a smile.

“She’s uh... my teaching assistant.”

“Teaching assistant, huh?” his friend repeated, clearly amused.

There was almost a challenge to the title. Something about the way he said it setting my heart into overdrive. Unable to control my own treacherous tongue, I continued to dig myself a wonderfully sized hole to jump in to.

“I’m also very good at hopping,” I said.

Once again, the better company of the two laughed. Spencer, however, covered his smile with a hand that brought attention to just how red his face had grown over the course of a few seconds. I was so distracted by it, lost in the way I could still see upturned lips just from his eye shape alone, that I failed to acknowledge the other man for a suspicious length of time.

“Well hey, don’t let me get in the way of you two catching up. Reid, I’ll go tell the hostess we’re here, so the others know where to go.”

With a firm pat on the shoulder, the man almost turned to walk away. But before he could, I drew him back again.

“Ooh, is there a party?”

Spencer, finally able to speak again, rushed his reply.

“No, it’s nothing.”

It was obviously not nothing, though. Judging by the toothy grin that his friend flashed, it was a very big not-nothing.

“Did he not tell you?” he asked with an incredulous, mischievous tone, “It’s his birthday.”

And it was, by far, the most insulting, scandalous news I’d heard that night. Enough to elicit a sharp gasp and hand reaching out to grab his wrist in a way I knew I shouldn’t have.

“You didn’t tell me it’s your birthday!”

My mind was racing, kicking myself for having not figured it out sooner. I was trying to recall the monthly staff newsletter, but then quickly remembered that I usually relied on Spencer to summarize them for me.

“It’s not my birthday,” he explained with a sigh, “It was a few days ago.”

His friend seemed pleased by my response, although he clearly saw it dwindling. My heels had already dropped back down with my hands that fell away, signaling a very different emotion than the excitement from seconds prior.

“We’re meeting up with some people for drinks and dinner. You want to come?” he asked, trying to convince me before it was too late.

But the moment had passed, replaced by loud, insecure ranting that insisted that Spencer wouldn’t have avoided telling me his birthday unless he didn’t want me to know. That meant he either didn’t enjoy making a fuss out of his birthday, or he didn’t want me to, specifically.

“Uhh...”

“Don’t answer that,” Spencer cut in, swiftly raising a hand to dismiss the other man whose name I finally learned. “Thanks Derek, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Suit yourself,” he mumbled back. But Derek, in all of his disappointment, didn’t fail to draw out one more flustered laugh from the two of us who remained as he gave a tiny half-wave and sang, “Goodbye, Bunny.”

Spencer’s neck craned back, never once leaving his friend until he had safely entered the restaurant. Once he was sure that he was safe from ridicule, or at least observation, his entire demeanor changed.

“I’m sorry about that,” he offered, but I couldn’t accept. If anyone had been a bother here, it was me (and my friends).

“No, I’m sorry I bothered you!” I rushed.

The silence stretched between us, an unsettling reminder that we rarely interacted outside of work. That he’d never known me to party, and I’d never thought of him doing something as routine and normal as celebrating a birthday. It shouldn’t have been strange, but it was.

Perhaps that feeling was what drove me to continue, proudly stating, “I promise that I will have all your work ready first thing in the morning.”

It wasn’t until Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth opened in a strange, lopsided grin that I’d realized I made a mistake.

“Um...” he spoke through laughter, “Tomorrow is Saturday.”

“I’m very motivated?”

Thankfully, he saw the humiliation and was happy to offer me a graceful escape from my humiliation. “How about I give you until Tuesday, instead?”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best, huh?”

I gladly took it, staring down at my heels as I tried to find anything else to focus on. Anything that wasn’t his eyes that seemed even more powerful after dark. But true to the magnetism I always experienced in his vicinity, I was drawn back into golden irises full of an emotion that made my heart beat twice as hard.

“Where did your friends go?” he asked. I didn’t trust myself to answer, so I just threw my thumb over my shoulder and towards the bar behind me. I didn’t turn away from him then, too scared to acknowledge that I would be leaving him soon. That we would go our separate ways again and I would have to wait until Tuesday to drown in the honey of his eyes again.

Sure enough, Spencer gave a solemn nod and cleared his throat before mumbling, “Right. You should probably go find them, so they don’t get worried.”

But I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay with him, the rest of the world be damned. I wanted to feel his eyes on me longer, especially when they started to wander my figure that I’d secretly hoped he would see.

I could pretend to hate my friend for calling him over all I wanted, but when I slipped into the costume hours earlier, I’d wondered what he would do if he saw me like this. And now that the answer was in front of me, torn between the exposed skin of my thighs and chest, I wanted to experience it for as long as possible.

With my fingers on the zipper to try and calm my heart, the inebriation manifested in soft giggles as I replied, “I think I’m pretty safe with you, Professor.”

Spencer didn’t need to vocalize his disagreement. I saw his contention in the form of wayward eyes falling to my hands that fiddled with the tiny piece of plastic keeping me covered. When they trailed back up the zipper teeth to meet my eyes again, they were filled with a hunger that took my breath away.

Unfortunately for us, though, our smitten haze wasn’t shared by anyone else in the vicinity. Especially not the drunk pack of men who passed, completely unaware of the amount of space they took up on the sidewalk. I don’t even remember one of them running into me, but I definitely remembered what followed in extreme, vivid detail.

Spencer caught me, quickly and more gracefully than I thought him capable of moving. His arms were locked around me, not only preventing me from face planting on the concrete but causing me to press my face directly against him.

Before he had a chance to say or do much of anything else, I placed my hands on his chest and tore myself away from the warmth of his embrace. Because I was already drunk enough on the alcohol — I didn’t need to be any more inebriated from him.

“S-See? You caught me!” I squeaked.

I didn’t miss the fact his hands stayed on my waist even with the added distance, his fingers subtly digging into and stroking the plush fabric. I didn’t try to stop them, either.

“Are you going to be okay? Should I take you home?”

I knew it wasn’t how he’d meant it, but my inner voice still pleaded, Yes, God, please, yes! My outer voice, however, clung to reason and respectability.

“No! Don’t miss your birthday dinner!” I insisted, but he didn’t look convinced. “I’m fine, seriously. I just suck at walking in heels.”

Any part of me that would have normally been offended by his insistence that I couldn’t handle myself while drinking was quelled by my desire to keep his hands on me as long as possible. Although there was enough space for my arms between our chests, I swore I felt his fluttering heartbeat against my fingers. I thought of hummingbirds.

Resigned to my stubbornness, Spencer took a moment longer to stroke patterns through the pink fabric wrapped around my waist before he sighed, “If you say so.”

“I do!” I giggled, leaning closer like I might convince him not to leave at all, “So you better listen up, mister Professor man.”

The look he gave me was sweet, honeyed bliss. But even that seemed minuscule in comparison to the way his hands slid over my sides, making their way over my shoulders and gently brushing the errant bunny ears back out of my face. He left them there, too, with a barely-there caress of my face.

“You look cute,” he said, like it wouldn’t break my heart.

Shier than he’d ever seen me before, I somehow managed to still look him in the eye as I answered, “So do you.”

It was a good thing I’d been paying attention, too. If I hadn’t been staring into his eyes, I would have missed the flash of chaotic playfulness that appeared just as he glanced down at the space between our chests.

I wouldn’t have been prepared at all when he dropped one of his hands from my face to the zipper of my costume. Not to say that anything could have prepared me for the way it felt to have his knuckle brush against the skin just below the lace bralette that had been meant to protect my modesty.

Before I could even comprehend the delicious friction of our skin, it was gone. Spencer pulled the zipper up to my chin, releasing the plastic in favor of grabbing hold of my chin once more.

“Be careful with that zipper,” he instructed, “I don’t need you getting hypothermia this early in the semester.”

Unsure of how else to respond, my body responded on instinct as it stammered, “I-I promise.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, and my autopilot continued.

“Double promise. Promise squared.”

“Okay. You have my number so... call me if you need anything.”

I absently nodded, but Spencer accurately concluded that I hadn’t actually processed what he’d said. When he let go of me, he took the time to smooth out the bunched up fabric over my shoulders. I tried to convince myself that he was just interested in the soft fluff, but it was hard to ignore the hunger that’d only grown stronger. The darkness that rivaled the moonless hallow’s eve.

“I don’t mind giving you a ride home if it means you get back safe,” he said with a deathly seriousness strongly contrasted by the flippancy that followed. “Otherwise I’ll have more work for Tuesday.”

I was grateful for the shift, because it made the loss of his hands hurt less. My chest filled with laughter that quickly burst from me with frantic, messy words.

“Of course! The work. For Tuesday. Okay! Thank you!”

“For what?” he also said through laughter.

“I— don’t know.”

Spencer turned away from me, looking behind him at the obligations that would tear us apart. I wondered if he, too, was busy contemplating how well it suited just how different we were. How two establishments side by side could house such different things. How we were frequenting opposite ends of the spectrum.

Whatever he was thinking about, however, it didn’t break his spirits too badly. Because before he sent me on my merry way, he flashed me the goofiest little bouncing peace sign before he sang, “Hop along, little bunny.”

So I did, turning back to my life and letting him return to his. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes following me until the darkness of the bar swallowed the space between us.

Still, I didn’t need him to be there to remember how it felt for his hands to roam my body like familiar territory. I saw that look in his eyes every time that I closed my own and remembered how it made my legs shake like weak stems bending to the wind.

I decided then that it wasn’t the worst thing in the world that he’d seen me in my costume. In fact, I think he quite liked it.

——————————————————

There are few things more relentless than Derek Morgan. Death and taxes, perhaps. When it came to mocking me, there wasn’t a single missed opportunity. Even at the darkest hour, I trusted him to be consistent and predictable.

That was precisely why it made no sense that I had made it through an entire dinner and drinks outing with the team without him mentioning what had happened. Not even once. I almost let myself be relieved. Perhaps time spent with a child that can talk back did him some good, I thought. But when the time finally came for us to take our leave, I realized my mistake. He wasn’t holding back out of the kindness of his heart.

No, Derek wanted to wait until there was no escape route. He wanted to have me trapped in a car hurtling down a highway before he spoke the words that he’d been waiting to say all night.

“So... Bunny.”

“Her name is (y/n),” I quickly corrected. Unfortunately, Derek wasn’t in a merciful mood. Although there was a notable smirk on his face, his next words were uttered with a hefty dose of skepticism. A warning that it was a subject that ought to be approached with a critical sincerity.

“Her name is Trouble. That’s what her name is,” he said, shaking his head.

“She’s just my teaching assistant,” I said like I might actually convince myself, though we both knew that I wasn’t going to convince him. “It’s fine.”

“Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?”

But that time, it was me who issued the warning.

“Stop,” I ordered, meeting his eyes to find him hiding his genuine concern under jokes that weren’t really jokes at all. “I respect her. She’s very bright and she earned her position.”

“I never said she didn’t. I know she’s probably smart, but I also saw the way you looked at her.”

The words felt like a blow to the stomach — yet another reminder that my affections for her were so thinly veiled they might as well be scrawled across my skin. He didn’t need to be a profiler to notice that I was fond of the girl, but it certainly made it worse.

Because he knew that I was lying when I muttered, “You don’t need to worry about it.”

He knew that I was lying, but he still asked, “Why’s that?”

“She’s...” I started, pausing while the word tried to form on my tongue. The word that had haunted me ever since those damned girls mentioned it. That short, simple little noun that had taken a cursory affection and turned it into full blown lust.

“She’s a virgin.”

Derek’s brows jumped up his face, his jaw dropping the same way mine had when I first heard the news. Then, just as I had, he put the pieces together and realized that it should have been a foregone conclusion.

“Trouble with a capital everything,” he half laughed.

But this wasn’t a joking matter, and I really wished that I could make him believe that. That definitely wouldn’t happen, though. Not when he looked up to see me hiding behind my hands, sinking into my seat like it would get me out of the conversation.

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s obviously waiting.”

It was the wrong thing to say. I should have seen his response coming from a mile away. But I didn’t, and so I was forced to listen to his childish giggles that were followed with an even more lighthearted crooning.

“Yeah, waiting for the right professor to come teach her the lesson on the birds and the bees.”

“Cut it out.”

Without even looking, he astutely observed, “Kid, you’re blushing.”

“Yeah, because you’re talking about me fuc–”

The word never made it out, getting caught between my teeth as I bit down on my tongue damn near hard enough to make it bleed. I wished it would. I wanted the iron to drown me and rid me of the sinful things it sought to do, instead. Opting for a more… distinguished explanation, I eventually stammered the rest of the thought.

“You’re talking about me... deflowering my significantly younger employee!”

“You can say fuck, Reid,” he deadpanned, “I think you’re old enough now.”

“I don’t want to. It sounds too... crude.”

I didn’t expect him to understand. How could he? He’d only seen her when she was at her most provocative… by far. Part of me envied him, to be able to sequester her innocence and view her as just another girl.

But she wasn’t like anyone else. She was an untouched bloom, a magnolia of unearthly shades. A beautiful blossom that had broken through the concrete walls I’d maintained for so many years. A tantalizing taste of the life outside that I refused to let in.

A fucking tease.

“Too crude for little miss innocent bunny?” Derek cooed, and it was so uncomfortably close to my thoughts that I couldn’t help the way I snapped back.

“Are you done?”

As we pulled into my parking lot, Derek just waved off my hostility, recognizing it as nothing but misfired shame and anguish at the thing I wanted being out of my reach.

“Yeah, I’m done. I hope you had fun, even with the teasing.”

I chose not to dignify the second half of the statement, climbing out of the car like I couldn’t step away from the conversation fast enough. But of course, I knew that only made my guilt more apparent. My culpability was clear and conclusive. There was no argument to be made.

“You know I’m right!” he shouted just before the door shut. A final reminder, one last cautionary call for the beast inside of me to keep itself hidden lest I allow myself to sink my teeth into something pure.

“Goodnight!”

Few things changed when I reached the confines of my apartment walls. Fantasies had only devolved into a vividness that was borderline frightening. How easily I could get lost in visions of her, only promising my return in exchange for my imagination agreeing to become a reality that I would get a chance to experience.

But that wasn’t fair to her. She was just a girl doing her job with an astounding amount of patience and understanding for her hopeless romantic of a boss. For a moment, the guilt became so overwhelming that I let it win. I managed to swallow my newly acquired memories well enough to navigate my nightly routine without wishing she was there every step of the way.

Wishing that she would call me. That she would grant me the excuse to return to her, to touch her as freely as I had earlier. I imagined a world where, upon arriving to her destination, she invited me in.

As I collapsed on my bed, I wondered if she would have preferred the privacy of my home. A place far enough away from other students and academics to finally see me as something more than a superior. Something attainable in a way she never seemed to be.

Just as I closed my eyes to give in to the dreams, my phone buzzed. The sound set off every nerve in my body, all of them very poorly coordinating to allow me to grab the device and turn it on to reveal her name.

“Hey Professor! I just wanted to let you know that I got home…”

I’d never opened a notification so quickly, but I should have waited. I should have paused and taken the time to notice that what I was opening wasn’t just a collection of letters and symbols.

It was a set of pictures.

Pictures of her.

“Safe and sound and zippered up. No hypothermia for this bunny tonight,” she tagged onto the end, “Sweet dreams!”

How could I ever dream of anything but her? How was I meant to turn off my phone now, knowing that she was there; her drunken, lustful stare on display? I only tore my eyes away from her face long enough to notice her surroundings. I took extensive, painstaking notes on the color of the sheets on her bed and the way the zipper I’d tugged at to control myself from taking her had fallen away again.

I could feel the softness of her skin against my knuckle again. I heard the way her breath nearly broke at the force with which she sucked in air at the feeling of me touching her. How hard she pressed herself against me, how her back arched when I held her and how she never even tried to stop my hands from finding new places to rest.

They worked diligently now, too, trying to keep her awake and with me for as long as I could, but also wanting to free myself of obligations so that she wouldn’t notice how long I’d stared at the pictures she’d sent.

“Goodnight, little bunny,” I sent before adding, “I’ll be counting rabbits instead of sheep tonight.”

As if to reward my efforts, another picture flooded my screen. Her face was scrunched up in an adorable innocence, half covered with her hand but still effortlessly beautiful.

I stopped myself from responding again. I forced myself to stop, to prevent treacherous hands from calling her and begging her to let me come to her. It wasn’t fair — it was manipulative, downright evil, even — to take advantage of her inebriated state to hoard any insight she might provide.

But she’d already sent these… So, would it be so wrong to indulge in her? By touching my own body to the thought of her, would I taint her? Did I care even if it did? Maybe it was for the best to plant the seed of impurity now, to strip her of her power over me.

But deep down, I knew that I would still want her. I would still wish that the hand that sneaked beneath the sheets belonged to her. I could almost feel it as my hand traversed familiar territory. It would be new for her, and it would be new for me to feel the delicate, unmarred skin of her palm slowly sliding down my stomach. Her fingers bashfully brushing through soft curls at the base of me, still too nervous to hold me the way I needed her to.

Her face would be buried in my shoulder, with dew from her breath wetting my neck and raising the hairs on my arms. I would take her hand in mine and guide her to wrap her trembling hand around my cock.

Just like I was doing to myself now, with my other hand still holding the phone displaying the image of innocence. My hand wasn’t as soft or inexperienced as hers would be, but as long as my eyes stayed on her half-lidded gaze staring back at me, I could pretend.

I could hear her panting my name— my real name, Spencer— in my ear, praising the feel of silky skin beneath her fingertips. She would whisper about how she wanted to feel it elsewhere, too. She would beg for me to replace a hand for her most precious place.

That damned angelic girl showing her hand on the zipper would beg me to steal away her innocence. She would unveil herself slowly, knowing that I needed the time to memorize every inch of her skin as it was seen by another for the first time. Seen by me, and only me. The vision would be for my consumption and indulgence.

I wanted it. I wanted her.

My stomach tensed as I pictured the girl staring back at me straddling my hips. I stroked myself harder, faster, letting my thumb trace down her body on my screen.

If I stole it from her, would it be mine?

Would she be trapped as I was, only able to feel anything when I was with her? Would she dream of me? Would she cherish each and every memory of my touch and play it back in her mind? When she felt the urge to break and burn, would she picture my hands lighting the match?

If I ruined her, would she be mine?

I pictured the girl on the screen with tears in her eyes, her mouth stuck open in a silent scream and her hands clutching desperately to mine. I imagined how tightly her body would grip me as I fucked her. How hard it would fight the intrusion of my sinful touch. How I would hold her down despite the resistance until she gave in to me. Until I broke her, thoroughly and irreparably.

She would be mine.

That was the thought that took me over the edge, all energy that was not delegated to my hand feverishly stroking my cock remained with my other hand to hold her picture in front of me. It never even wavered, never once shaking and risking losing any clarity. Even my eyes refused to close all the way.

She would be mine.

The warm, sticky mess of my desire coated my hand and stomach, but all I could think was how it would feel to mark her as mine. To feel the excess drip back down my cock as she collapsed against my body. To know that she would never be the same, never be wholly herself again. That she’d let me inside of her soul and that when I left, I hadn’t left empty handed.

She was already mine.

——————————————————

| Part Four |

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jpegjade · 2 years

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Professor Make Believe - Spencer (Series)

Welcome to my daydreams again! I'm back to writing a little bit to get some thoughts out and it's actually pretty exciting. Anyway we have prof!spencer and it's so much fun to think about this... Might start writing more again.

Spencer Reid was the department golden child. He was always there for the students, no matter how many students he had. He also

When you first met, he was in the BAU. Fresh out of horrifying experiences with prisons, cults, and heartbreak, he was the guy who spilled coffee on your brand new shoes on the day you were interviewing for adjunct professor in the english department. Apologizing profusely, he offered to buy you a fresh coffee, even. though you were holding one. He spilled his own on your converse, not your drink.

The more you learned about Spencer, the more you realized that he was the male, criminology Ms. Frizzle from the Magic School Bus. Students were enthralled with the way he explained concepts and ideas, engaged with him and, yes, even jealous that you got to privately eat lunch with him Monday through Friday because they wanted to keep him all to themselves. You could see why they were jealous. You couldn’t believe you found someone so amazing either...

“You should meet my cat.” Spencer said, unwrapping the turkey sandwich you packed for him.

When it came to lunch food, the two of you alternated between who brought food. Fridays, you both brought a meal for the other to try and just traded. It was Tuesday so it was your day to bring lunch for the two of you.

“I’m sorry, what?” You froze, looking up from your own turkey sandwich unwrapping process.

“Chloe, my cat. You should meet her.” Spencer smiled at how you cut the sandwich into mini triangles again.

He loved when you brought lunch because you did geometric shapes. It wasn’t like he couldn’t cut his own food into shapes but there was something so considerate and innocent about the idea that you would take the time to cut his food into mini triangles for him. It was something he always wanted but it never felt the same when he was doing it by himself.

“When did you get a cat?” You asked, suddenly feeling anxious.

“I think three days ago.” Spencer took a small bite out of the sandwich, studying you.

He noticed the stiffness in your shoulders, a change in your gate, and the tense but forcibly calm twinge in your words. The question was why...

“Oh. How did you meet her?” You asked, thinking about the implications of you meeting his cat.

“She was sitting on the doorstep to my apartment complex, in a basket. I thought that was incredibly cruel of someone but better than a shelter where the rate of cat adoption is much lower than the rate of dog adoption.” Spencer took a sip of his drink, surprised to find it was sweet tea. He loved when you made sweet tea.

“Why is it cruel? You did find her, which was the goal, right?” You asked, trying to get comfortable with the idea of being introduced to Spencer’s life outside of the college.

“Right but what if I didn’t find her? What if a wolf found her or something gruesome happened? I just thought about all of the possibilities of terrible things that could happen to a sweet soul with a very sassy personality. So far, she has been the cause of my short sleeved shirts at home...” Spencer smiled to himself before looking back up at you.

You were smiling as you thought about the fact that you had never seen anything beyond his forearms when his sleeves were rolled up. Thinking about it, you didn’t really think Spencer had much of a life outside of the college. He was there just as much as you, and you spent most of your time at the school. Him inviting you to meet his cat might have been a really good idea because it meant you were getting closer to someone that wasn’t related to you. It was always nice to have someone to talk to beyond your family…

“Dr. Reid?” Two students snapped you out of your train of thought as they gingerly approached the table.

Based on how they were dressed, they were much younger students. Carrying heavy backpacks and holding notebooks in their hands, they looked like they cared more than some of your students.

“Yes, how can I help you guys?” Spencer asked, immediately recognizing them.

You looked at the time. Almost time for the next class section to start entering the room.

You always got lost in Spencer, no matter how much time you spent with him. It was always just that easy...

“Hey, y/n, I’ll see you at office hours later?” Spencer said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then.” You smiled as he walked away.

He was a dream come true...

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #cm #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer imagine #criminal minds imagine

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spencersawkward · 4 years

Note

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

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

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

relationship: Fem!Reader/Professor!Spencer

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

word count: 4.5k

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"are you struggling with the content?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I didn't know you cared."

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

"of what?" my expression is saccharine.

"being rude to people who control your grades."

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

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

"you wouldn't."

"and why is that?" he baits.

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

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

"not completely." I shrug.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"why?"

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

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

"w-what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"you're fucked up, doctor."

"so are you."

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

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

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

"mhmm."

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

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

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

"too hard, baby?" he checks.

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

"you like being punished?"

"yes." strangled and desperate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

his breath stops for a moment before he groans.

"so ready for me."

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

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

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

"Dr. Reid--" I moan.

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

"take it, baby. fucking take it."

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

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

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

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

"thank you." I whine.

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

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

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

"yes— fuck— yes, please, Dr. Reid."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"math is not fun."

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

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

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artificialqueens · 2 years

Text

📬 Paint Pals (River Medway & Arantxa Castilla-La Mancha) - Hannah

a/n: i wanted to challenge myself and write something based in friendship and not romance and the pen pals challenge was perfect for that! i picked river and arantxa purely for their mutual love of hannah montana and popstar vibes and made them art students because why not lol.

the italics are the written letters and the bolded are the texts.

read on ao3 if you prefer!

As soon as her professor explained this project, Arantxa was bouncing off the walls excited for it. It was so different from the main projects she had been doing and she was very excited at the prospect of potentially making friends with someone in another country without technology being the middleman of communication.

The project outlines were to start a painting but not to finish it, only paint it halfway, then the half-complete painting gets set to a predetermined partner in the UK for a swap to finish each other’s paintings. And today was the day that the deliveries had come.

he only thing Arantxa knew about her partner thus far was their name – River – and she hopes that by the end of the day she’ll know the mystery person a little better. The blonde’s professor hands out identical cardboard boxes to the class at the end of the lesson and sends them on their way, and Arantxa swears she had never walked home faster.

She drops the box on the end of her bed and as she opens it, she is greeted with white tissue paper and a brown envelope with her name written on it in fancy cursive calligraphy. The letter inside is written on handmade paper, white with multi-colored flecks throughout, and the writing is written in a perfect balance of cursive and print.

Dear Arantxa,

Hey, how are you? Hope you’re well! Thought I should introduce myself a bit before anything else. As you know, my name is River and I’m a 3rd year student as well with a focus on painting, my pronouns are she/her and I’m bisexual. I’m originally from a small town in Kent but I now live in London for uni with a few of my classmates as my roommates and I have an older sister who also lives in London as well.

As for hobbies, I was a dancer growing up and I still take part in classes when I can, and I am also a part-time instructor for little kids dance classes. Some things I’m interested in are collecting dolls and Hannah Montana, which I know probably makes me sound childish but they’ve always held a special place in my heart and they always will.

My prof suggested I talk about my art practice too so I guess I’ll share a bit about what I like to do. I tend to focus most on realism and portraiture both in painting and drawing, but especially painting. My favorite paintings I’ve done are sort of slice-of-life, like if a candid photo became a painting.

This project is such a neat idea and I am so excited to be your partner for this. I can’t wait to receive your painting and your letter and see what we end up creating! Also, if you want to reach out beyond paper my Instagram is @/river.m

All the best,

River

Arantxa felt spiritually connected to this girl from just the letter, they were almost the same person with how similar their interests were and she couldn’t wait to unwrap the canvas to see what River had started for her to complete.

Meanwhile in London, the same situation was happening to River, receiving a box at the end of class and rushing home to open it as soon as possible to read about her partner and see how she paints and what she’s started.

A magenta envelope covered in purple and light pink stars sits atop the canvas that’s wrapped in bubble wrap, guitar shaped stickers seal the envelope and hold the bubble wrap around the canvas as well. When River opens the letter she sees the entire thing is written in hot pink sparkly gel pen. Based on the stationary choices, the brunette feels excited about her partner already.

Hola River!

Como estas? I hope you’re doing well! My name is Arantxa, I use she/her pronouns and I identify as a non-binary lesbian. I’m also a 3rd year arts student with a focus in painting and printmaking. I currently live in Madrid with 2 of my best friends as my roommates who are both sculptors. We’re all art students too so our apartment looks like a messy studio more often than not, there’s always paint, ink and clay splattered somewhere!

Some things to know about me is that I love horror movies (especially Scream, it’s my fave!), Hannah Montana, Barbie and anything pink. My life is very full of color from my clothes and furniture to all my art. I also love funky, creative makeup, my bestie Hugaçeo does lots of looks like what’s on Instagram and TikTok and they're so cool to see in person!

As for my practice, it's very colorful like I mentioned, I'm always running out of my bright and neon paints. Most of my paintings are abstract but on occasion I'll add some figures onto an abstract background for a challenge. My methods are very out of the ordinary. I get messy and throw paint at the canvas, kinda like Jackson Pollock but if he used Warhol's color scheme, and if I do include figure work it’s kind of like a Liechtenstein comic book style. If you couldn't tell, I love Pop Art!

Anyways, I'm so super excited for this project! It's going to be so cool to see how our styles mash up, especially if they're super different or even completely opposite. My Instagram is @/arantxaclm if you want to reach out and talk outside of the project!

Adios!

Arantxa

This person sounded like the living embodiment of sunshine, like the most energetic person to be around and River felt like Arantxa would be the life of the party. They would definitely get along in real life, the brunette was sure of it. She could only imagine the amount of color and chaos that was on the canvas that still sat wrapped on her desk.

As the two painted the canvas, they texted everyday over DM's, getting to know each other better everyday and becoming close friends over the course of three weeks even though they both felt they were kindred spirits.

When the day finally came to present their final artworks, River and Arantxa were the most excited they’d ever been to present because this would also be the first time they get to see each other in real time.

Could they have facetime called before now? Yes, they totally could have, but the pair thought it would make seeing the finished products even more exciting if it was not only the first time they saw the paintings since they sent them out but also the first time they got to talk to each other in person – well, over video call but face-to-face nonetheless.

The anticipation of finally getting a chance to talk to each other was eating at them both, the excitement was through the roof. The second their names were called, the two ran up to the front instantly and began chatting, getting carried away from the task at hand because they were just so glad to finally meet face-to-face.

River was the one that got her and Arantxa back on track, putting her painting on the easel for her class and pulling up the picture on the computer for Arantxa and her class to see and the blonde doing the same on her end.

The way that each of their styles combined was so interesting to see, each of them attempt their art in differently but the way that each of their styles managed to compliment each other, the combination of colorful abstract and figure realism came together on two different canvases, everyone had nothing but good things to say.

Their profs eventually had to get them to wrap up to keep going with the other presentations, but the second the two got out of class they pulled out their phones.

river: omg i still can't believe how good our paintings turned out

arantxa: ikr!! our styles came together so well

and everyone loved them!!

river: it was so nice to finally see you irl too we should video chat more often

arantxa: i totally agree 🥰

river: hannah montana watch party when lol

arantxa: omg yes we definitely need to do that it would be so much fun!!

river: totally it’s so nice to finally meet someone who likes hannah montana as much as i do

i’m so glad we were paired up for the project 🥰

honestly its like were almost the same person in different countries

arantxa: we are it’s crazy!! our personalities are like clones of each other 🤣

Their conversation continued for a little while longer before they both had to get to other obligations but the happiness that filled River and Arantxa was unparalleled. Smiles spread across their faces, peps in their steps, and all around good moods the entire rest of their day.

It’s crazy to think that someone who is so similar to you lives somewhere in the world, and you could become friends simply through a letter and many many online interactions. And maybe if you’re lucky enough, you’ll get to meet them in real time and become friends for life.

#rpdr fanfiction #arantxa castilla la mancha #river medway #arantxa & river #gen fic #lesbian au #friendship #fic challenge #pen pals #rare pair #hannah

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babymetaldoll · 4 years

Text

I love you (and I don't want to) (Spencer Reid/Reader)

Requested: Yes

Summary: After three years in love with Spencer, (Y/N) decides it's time to move on. He will never love her anyway, right?

Category: Angst/Fluffy ending

Word count: 4,2K

Warnings: Cursing, but you love me anyway 💜

Masterlist

It had been three years of her life. Three whole years she had been in love with Spencer Reid. But (Y/N) couldn't deal with those feelings anymore. She didn't want to continue torturing herself, waiting for him. Why? 'cos for him, (Y/N) was just his friend, his very best friend. But nothing more. And she wanted more. She wanted everything with him, and after three years, she knew she wasn't going to get it.

(Y/N) had hinted to Spencer in every possible way that she was in love with him, but he hadn't acted on it. She actually felt pathetic. (Y/N) thought she couldn't be any more obvious about her feelings. The only thing she hadn't done was kissing Reid. And she wasn't going to because it was clear all she was going to get was rejection.

That's why, after three years postponing her own life, waiting around to see if Spencer might actually see her as a woman and not as a friend, she was done. She had to move on from him, even if it was the hardest thing she had ever done.

But working with Spencer didn't make it easier. There he was, every morning, smiling at her from his desk. Asking her how she had spent the night, what she had done. Even inviting her over to his apartment for a movie night. Which with Spencer actually meant watching movies and nothing else. Nothing. Not even holding hands.

In three years, the most physical (Y/N) had even been with Spencer had been the day she got shot in a leg, and he hugged her when she rejoined the team after her leave.

One hug in three years. That was it. Spencer was way more physical with Morgan, or with anyone else, as a matter of fact. That's why it was time to let him go. (Y/N) knew she wasn't going to find another man like him, though maybe that was the idea.

She loved him so much it hurt, and she needed to get rid of that pain.

(Y/N) knew she could get a man's attention if she wanted to. That's why it was so frustrating not being able to get Spencer's. Decided to get him out of his mind, (Y/N) dragged Emily and García for a "Lady's night." And by the end of the evening, she had given her number to three different guys. Neither of them was Spencer Reid, but at least (Y/N) felt her ego boost from getting their attention.

- "(Y/N)! I still can't get over how hot that guy was!! did he call you already?"- Penelope walked through the bullpen straight to (Y/N) 's desk, ignoring everybody but her friend. (Y/N) bit her lips and closed her eyes for a second, embarrassed her friend had literally yelled to the whole FBI they had met a cute guy the night before.

- "What? Who?"- Derek Morgan nearly jumped and rubbed his hands together, excited to hear the story, and walked with Garcia to (Y/N) 's desk.

Spencer raised his eyes from the file he was reading and scanned (Y/N) 's face. She was blushed, obviously nervous, and biting her lips as she smiled. What? Was she excited? Happy? Annoyed? and who was Garcia talking about? what guy? (Y/N) wasn't dating anyone. He would know. He knew everything she did. Not that he was a stalker or anything, but he listened each time she talked, and she usually told him everything she did.

Did she? Maybe not anymore. Spencer realized he needed to know what Garcia was talking about, so he pretended to be working but paid all of his attention to that conversation.

- "Thank you, Penelope"- (Y/N) huffed and shook her head- "I don't think Anderson heard you, by the way."

- "I heard her!"- Anderson raised his hand and waved- "Hot guy, she can't get over him"

- "Thank you!"- (Y/N) smiled at Anderson and covered her face with both hands.

- "Oh, come on! Don't be shy. You are not shy. And last night's (Y/N) wasn't shy either!"- Penelope tapped on (Y/N) 's back, as she grabbed the closest chair and moved it to her desk- "So, did he call?"

- "Who are you guys talking about?"- Morgan asked, crossing his arms on his chest, staring at the two women- "What did you do last night?"

- "Turns out this lady right here is the best party girl I've ever met, and in all these years, she had never shown this side of her! Ever!"- Penelope was clearly under the effect of three cups of coffee.

- "What did she do?"

- "Oh my beloved Morgan, you should have seen her!"- Garcia started explaining, and Spencer realized his stomach, as well as his fists, were tightening.

- "Please, don't!"- (Y/N) begged, but it was useless.

- "She was a lioness in the wild, and the hottest guys in the club were her prey. She danced with only the most attractive men in the whole place. And she flirted, and laughed, enchanted them all. Guys were asking for her phone number the whole time we were in that club. I swear I had never seen anything like it before."

- "What?! this pretty lady right here?"- Morgan pointed at (Y/N), who was still covering her face with both hands- "She always refuses to go out clubbing with me."

- "Well, clearly she was hiding her wild side"- Garcia sentenced and nodded at her own words- "So, did he call already?"

- "No. He hasn't"

- "Who?"- Prentiss asked, joining the conversation- "Bachelor number three? Please tell me you are gonna marry that man. It would be a crime not to."

The fact even Prentiss was drooling over that unknown guy hit Spencer harder. He knew (Y/N) was gorgeous and that she could get any guy's attention if she wanted to. But in the last three years, she had ignored every man who had flirted with her. Why the sudden change?

Spencer knew he couldn't ask (Y/N) not to flirt or go out with anyone, just 'cos he loved her in silence. Reid wished he could tell her how he felt, but he knew it was impossible for her to love him. She always took special care of him. She was always there when no one else was. But Spencer considered it as a gesture of friendship, not of love. He was so blind, he had wasted three years of happiness by her side, only because he was sure someone like her could never want someone like him.

Lucky for Spencer (or unlucky in a way), he didn't have to listen to that conversation for much longer. Hotch asked the team for the reports of the last three cases they had worked on, which meant they had a busy day ahead, and the bullpen was silent for most of the day.

Until (Y/N) 's phone hummed around noon, and Prentiss jumped from her desk.

- "Is it him?! is he?"- (Y/N) looked at Emily in shock- "What?"

- "You are acting like a schoolgirl. Put your shit together."

- "Shut up and let me live my life through you for a second! is that him?"- (Y/N) grabbed her phone and nodded. Spencer looked at her friend and held his breath. What was happening? Why was she clubbing and meeting guys all of a sudden?

- "I can't stop thinking about you. I hope you are having a great day. Wanna have dinner with me tonight?"- (Y/N) read out loud and bit her lips.

- "Please say yes and ask him for a picture."

- "Garcia already found pictures of him online"- (Y/N) announced Emily and showed her the mail she had gotten from their friend- "She checked his whole life. And he wasn't lying. The guy is a pediatrician, he is single, never been in jail, gives lots of money to charity...."

- "And he is so hot, Ryan Reynolds would be jealous of him. Seriously (Y/N), please date him. You deserve to be happy, and that guy is screaming, "I could make you happy."

Emily had never been the kind of woman to say those things out loud in the bullpen, during work, knowing anyone might hear her. But that was precisely what she wanted.

She knew Spencer was paying attention. And she wanted him to listen to what was going on because it might be the only way to make him see he had to tell (Y/N) what he really felt for her before it was too late.

Prentiss knew Spencer was in love with (Y/N), though he had denied it every time she had confronted him about his feelings. But you can't hide those things from profilers. Less from profilers who are also your best friends.

Emily knew (Y/N) loved him too, and it was nerve-wracking watching them waste their time and neither of them doing anything to be together.

Maybe the fact (Y/N) was getting someone else's attention would make Spencer react. If not, well, maybe (Y/N) would get a chance to be happy with the club's hot guy.

The hot guy from the bar had a name. It was Benjamin, and he took (Y/N) our for dinner that night. He had been lovely and charming, just like he had been when they met at the club. So sweet and charming, in fact, (Y/N) felt he might be the one who could take Spencer from her heart. That's why, when he asked her out again later that week, she accepted.

- "Oh my god!"- JJ walked to (Y/N) in shock- "Who sent you these?"- there was a gigantic bouquet of red roses on (Y/N) 's desk, and the owner was staring at them, absolutely blushed. In three years, no one had sent her flowers. It was impossible not to feel special.

- "Benjamin"- (Y/N) whispered and opened the card that came with the roses- "He asked me out, again."

- "You know, red roses are the most common flower to give to a woman."- Spencer had made his best to stay out of that conversation and every conversation related to Benjamin in the last week and a half. But he couldn't do it anymore.

He was done.

- "Worldwide, everybody gives red roses to say "I love you," turning a beautiful flower into a sad and empty cliché."- Spencer stood up from his desk and walked over (Y/N) and JJ, staring at the bouquet.

- "Sad and empty?"- (Y/N) stood up and crossed her arms on her chest, defensive- "Why would you say that?"

- "When everybody does it, the gesture might turn into something meaningless. A banality."

JJ looked at Spencer and at (Y/N). Since Benjamin was in the picture, it was clear their friendship was in trouble. Reid was more distant and (Y/N) was focused on her date. You didn't need to be a profiler to see what was going on, and JJ knew the wise thing to do was to take a step back and leave the two of them to fix their problems on their own.

Something JJ knew was never going to happen, 'cos Reid would be passive-aggressive and (Y/N) would get annoyed and leave.

- "Why are you so bitter today, Spencer? It's just flowers?"- (Y/N) asked him and raised an eyebrow. Reid mimicked her movement and crossed his arms on his chest as well.

- "I'm not bitter, (Y/N). I'm just telling you this gesture of love that's melting your heart is nothing but a cheap way to get under your skirt."

Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ wide opened their eyes at Spencer's words. But (Y/N) didn't even flinch.

- "And since when do you care if someone is trying to get under my skirt?"- she asked, staring into Reid's eyes.

- "I don't."

- "Then why are you telling me this?"

- "I just thought you were smarter than this. I guess I was wrong."

You could feel the tension growing between them. And the sparks coming from (Y/N) 's eyes that were filled with anger.

Spencer regretted every word that had left his lips ever since he stood up, but he couldn't take them back. What was done was done. And so, he could feel (Y/N) 's friendship and love slipping through his fingers with every word he said.

Later that night, Spencer couldn't sleep. It wasn't late, but he hadn't had a proper rest for weeks. Since he first heard (Y/N) was out clubbing with her friends, actually. And now that she was dating someone else, there was no way Spencer could close his eyes.

He felt awful after what he had told her, and he kept trying to come up with an idea to apologize to her. In three years, they had never fought before. Well, he had never been so jealous of anyone getting her attention in the last three years.

He couldn't shake the thought of her being on a date with Ben at that very same minute. They were together. She was laughing. And that would be enough for that guy to fall in love with her. How couldn't he? (Y/N) was perfect. Spencer knew it.

Reid paced like a lion in his apartment. He sipped his third cup of herbal tea, trying to follow (Y/N) 's advice to reduce caffeine at night in a useless effort to sleep better. But he knew coffee wasn't the reason he wasn't going to get any sleep that night. It was (Y/N). (Y/N) and all the feelings he had for her.

Why couldn't he just tell her he loved her? Why did he have to hold those feelings back for so long? Was it too late to tell her? Of course, it was! and even if (Y/N) wasn't in love with Ben, that didn't mean she'd ever love Reid. They were friends, and that was it.

The hum of his cellphone took Spencer from his thoughts. Somehow reading "we've got a case" on the screen made him feel better. At least now he had something else to think about. Reid could focus on saving lives instead of his own misery.

The case could be solved. His personal life couldn't.

Work was where Spencer could hide. It was his escape from his own problems, from his head, and his tendency to overthink everything.

Work was his refugee, his temple. A place he could even call home.

And that's why he lost it when he saw (Y/N) holding some guy's hand in the hall outside the elevator, in the BAU.

- "What are you doing?"- Reid wasn't even subtle at that point. He ignored Penelope, Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ. Needless to say, he also ignored that random man he knew was Benjamin.

- "Hi Spencer"- (Y/N) cut him a short smile and tried to act normal, but she knew it wasn't going to happen.

- "We've got a case."

- "Hi! Nice to meet you. I'm Benjamin"- Ben tried to shake Reid's hand, but Spencer didn't just ignore him. The glance he gave him was so cold and annoyed, (Y/N) was embarrassed already.

- "Don't mean to be rude, but what the fuck are you doing here? Do you think you can come and visit the FBI whenever you want to?"

The whole team was silent. Spencer's words resonated through the empty halls. (Y/N) felt her heart stop and her cheeks turning red with embarrassment and anger.

- "I'm sorry,"- Ben whispered and cleared his throat- "I should go."

- "No, please."- (Y/N) held his hand tighter and turned to him, knowing Spencer was staring at every move she made.

- "You have to work. I just came to drop you off. Take care, ok?"- Ben said, smiling. (Y/N) nodded and slowly leaned in and kissed him.

Spencer's heart dropped. That was it. He couldn't deal with that anymore. Reid turned around and rushed out the hall.

What had he done? What had she done? That was it. He was screwed.

- "Spence?"- JJ found him hidden in the conference room, sitting at a chair, his head resting on the table, covered with both hands.

- "What?"- he whispered, but didn't move- "I know, I know"- he added before JJ would say anything- "I ruined it all."

- "Why don't you just tell her what you feel?"- she asked her and sat by his side. But Spencer still didn't move.

- "What for?"

- "For starters, to apologize for being a dick today."

- "It's useless, JJ."

- "Why?"- Reid sighed and turned slowly to look at his friend. JJ smiled at him kindly and shook her head- "It's not useless, Spence. She loves you."

- "She loves me as a friend."

- "No, she is in love with you. The only reason she is dating Ben is that she needs to get over you 'cos she is sure you don't love her."

Spencer looked at JJ in silence, trying to put those ideas together. But they made no sense.

- "There's no way (Y/N) loves me."

- "She does. She has been in love with you for the last three years, Spence. And if I were you, I'd apologize to her, and I'd tell her the truth."

- "She really loves me?"- Spencer whispered, and JJ nodded- "Why didn't you tell me before?"

- "I tried to tell you a million times before, you wouldn't believe me! now try to find a way to fix this before you lose her!"

Reid stood up and ran his fingers through his hair. JJ was right; he had to fix everything. He had to win (Y/N) 's love back.

But Hotch and the rest of the team walked into the conference room that minute, including (Y/N). And his plans were forced to be paused until that serial killer was caught.

That was a miserable case. Not only because the unsub was killing lonely older women, and no one noticed most of the victims because no one would visit them. Which made the trail of murders was nearly untraceable. But because Spencer and (Y/N) weren't even looking at each other during the whole time they were investigating, and to call it "awkward" was being subtle.

It was hell for both of them.

Being in the jet was torture, 'cos there was nowhere to hide from each other. When Hotch asked them to go to the last crime scene together was the worst. (Y/N) had to ask Emily to go instead 'cos she knew she couldn't deal with Spencer at that minute.

And all that time, all Reid could think about was that kiss. The image of (Y/N) kissing Ben in front of him, and the words JJ had said. That (Y/N) loved him, and that was the reason why she was doing all that.

Solving that case was more complex than he expected because he couldn't put his mind to it. All he could think of was (Y/N).

On the jet back to Quantico, Spencer sat in front of her, decided to talk to her. But she stood up and left in a second, not giving him the chance to open his mouth. JJ stared at him and cut him a short smile, trying to encourage him not to lose faith. Spencer knew (Y/N) was mad at him, and she would act her worst when she was upset. But this time, he knew he had fucked it up. There was no other way to explain it.

Saying "Sorry" wouldn't do it. Spencer would have to do better.

But how?

(Y/N) reached her house and closed the door behind her back, still making her best not to cry. She had held those tears back for two days now since she had fought with Spencer, and she refused to weep over him anymore. It was a waste of tears.

Spencer Reid was an asshole, that was all.

All there was left to do was to forget about him. Maybe (Y/N) could text Benjamin, tell him she was already back in town, though she really didn't want to. (Y/N) wanted that night for herself, ask for pizza, watch a movie, do nothing. Maybe take a long bath. She could deal with reality in the morning. But right now, she wanted that night for herself.

Of course, she wasn't going to get it. The knocking on her door ruined her plans before she could actually ask for her pizza.

Spencer Reid was holding his breath at the other side of the door and making his best effort not to faint. That's how nervous he was. (Y/N) looked at him in shock, and for a few seconds, she forgot how mad she was with him because the way he was looking at her was heart-melting.

- "I'm sorry,"- Spencer whispered and gave her a gigantic bunch of flowers- "(Y/N), I am so sorry I was an asshole with you."

- "I don't want your flowers."- she refused to take them and took a step back into her apartment. But Spencer followed her.

- "(Y/N), I..."

- "No, you hurt me. You insulted me. You humiliated me and..."

- "And I love you"- Spencer confessed- "I love you, and I have been an insensitive asshole with you. I know you won't forgive me, but I had to try."

(Y/N) stared at him in shock. She didn't move. She didn't even blink. Spencer stared at her in silence, closing the door behind his back. At least they were now inside her apartment, and she wasn't kicking him out. He thought that was a good sign.

- "What are you talking about, Spencer?"

- "I love you. I am in love with you (Y/N). I have been in love with you for the last three years, and I kept telling myself it was useless to feel this way for you 'cos you would ever even look at me that way. But now that you've got that guy, I've realized worse than losing you for telling you my feelings is losing you over some douchebag for not telling you how I feel."

Spencer was rambling too fast, and (Y/N) was not getting what was going on.

- "So you decided to come here and tell me how you feel so I would forgive you?"- (Y/N) asked him, still mad- "'Cos telling me you love me doesn't make me feel any better, Spencer. If anything, it's making me even madder at you! What the fuck is your problem?!"- (Y/N) turned around and walked to her living room, not really knowing what to do.

- "What?"- Spencer asked, confused, following her around.

- "I've been fucking in love with you for years! and you waited till now to tell me how you feel?"

- "I never thought you'd like me!"

- "I don't like you! I fucking love you, Spencer!"

- "I love you too (Y/N)!"

There was a deep silence in the room. (Y/N) and Spencer stared at each other, neither of them knowing what to do. They were in love. Literally, madly in love.

- "I love you, (Y/N)"- Spencer repeated and took a step closer to her.

- "I know, I heard you"- she whispered, confused. She was so upset and so happy at the same time. She had no idea what she was doing.

Reid didn't know what to do either, how to act, or how to fix things. The only thing he could think of doing was simple: to kiss her. Reid took another step closer to her, and she didn't move away. So he wrapped an arm around her waist and held her tight.

- "I love you, (Y/N)"- he repeated for the third time and kissed her with such passion, yet love, (Y/N) 's knees nearly betrayed her. Her head was spinning. Her body was shaking. She was in love, and the man of her dreams was finally kissing her.

Spencer was finally touching her, holding her, kissing her. After three years.

- "You said roses were sad and empty,"- (Y/N) whispered and looked at the bouquet Reid was still holding.

- "I said a lot of things I regret,"- he whispered and kissed her again. This time, less urgently and more sweetly, savoring her little by little- "And these are special flowers."

- "Care to explain?"- (Y/N) murmured and sighed. Spencer nodded and handed her the flowers again, smiling childishly.

- "Purple roses are not nearly as common as red or white roses are. And that's why they indicate a fascination and adoration."- of course, Spencer Reid had a real explanation for picking those flowers.

- "Purple roses are associated with royalty, and they were often given to queens. That's why it's the only flower I could give to you. You are my queen. You have always been, and I've been a stupid blind man not to see it before."

(Y/N) bit her lips and stared at him, not knowing what to say. Spencer sheepishly smiled at her and leaned in to kiss her. But she stopped him.

- "You were an asshole."

- "I know, I'm sorry"- he whispered, honestly sorry- "I'll live the rest of my life making sure you'll forgive me."

- "You won't get tired of me?"

- "Never"- he whispered and leaned over her- "I've been in love with you forever, and I wanna spend the rest of my life with you."

- "Sounds like a lot of time, Spencer."

- "We've waited three years already (Y/N). I'm not wasting any more time."- Spencer Walter Reid held (Y/N) and kissed her. He knew he had wasted three years, but he was willing to do anything and everything he could to make it up for her. All he wanted now was to make her happy every day.

****

Taglist

@all-tings-diego @calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid #criminal minds #mgg #matthew gray gubler #mgg x reader #fluff #angst #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencie reid #babymetaldoll writes

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agathasangel · 3 years

Text

you just don’t know it yet but baby, i’ve already got your heart (diane sherman x fem!reader NSFW)

both an anon and @magnifique-monstre requested yandere prompt 6 and 17 (i think?) so I’m gonna combine them because they would go together well

prompt 6: “Pretend you never saw that. I can’t stand it when you look so scared.”

prompt 17: “I’m the only thing keeping you safe from a filthy, disgusting world.”

warnings: everything, basically. it’s pretty fucked up actually. TW for drugging, stalking, dubcon, emetophobia warning (just one mention), kidnapping, etc. also teacher!diane

summary: Diane Sherman was your Professor, and then your girlfriend, and then your caretaker. As the days start to become hazy and mixed up with one another, you wonder if Diane is trustworthy.

Every day was basically the same. Wake up, take your meds, have breakfast with Diane. Then you would either accompany Diane to school or she would take you to the doctor’s or sometimes, if you felt up to it, she would take you on some sort of outing. She never liked to leave you alone and protectively followed you nearly everywhere you went. She took you home, and you would rest by her as she worked on her grading. At night Diane would make dinner for the two of you, the two of you would relax together, she would make sure you took the medication you needed at night and then you fell asleep in her arms.

It was nice. But you noticed that you started to forget things. You sometimes forgot how you even knew Diane, you even forgot your whole life before you met her at times. You were supposed to be on medical leave for a semester, which turned into a whole year, and- how long has it been now? You had no idea. You thought it was still summer, but the days started to blur together. The next year may have started, you had no way of knowing. Diane taught year round, so you went to school with her either way.

You remembered how everything started, though. You were a freshman, and you had moved across the country for college. You felt alone, and scared. You took a Chemistry class because you had to take some sort of science course, and it was the only one available when you signed up. You dreaded going, until you saw Professor Sherman. You struggled a bit in the class, so you went to her office hours. It was also a good excuse to talk to her, you thought.

She was a lot nicer than some of your other professors, and she helped you through the problems you struggled with.

“You know, students don’t usually like to come to my office hours, so feel free to show up whenever you need me. Alright, hon?”

“Of course. Thanks, Professor.”

How did it turn into this?

Oh, right. You and Diane started to get closer, and you started to come down with lots of rashes, general pains, and you started getting sick to your stomach more and more.

One day, you emailed Diane to tell her you couldn’t make it to her lab because you had thrown up that morning, to which she responded by asking what dorm you were in and if you needed anything.

It might be nice if you could bring me some saltines or something to settle my stomach? I have nothing in my dorm and can’t really stand up yet. Don’t worry about it though. I don’t want to get you sick, and are you even allowed in the dorms?

- (y/n)

I’ll be fine, and it really isn’t a big deal. We’re both adults, and I just want to help you.

- thinking of you, Prof. Diane Sherman

Next thing you remember, Diane showed up to your dorm a few minutes after your lab would have ended and brought not just crackers, but ginger ale, soup, water, blankets, and several different medicines. You talked for a while too, but couldn’t for the life of you remember what about. But you did remember that she stayed with you as long as you needed her, and promised to come back if you needed it.

You didn’t get better. You managed to get through your finals and pass your first semester classes, but you ended up having to spend much of Winter break in the hospital. Your parents came to visit, as did Diane. Diane actually came back every day, making sure you were okay.

You remembered that because of the silver necklace Diane gave you that Christmas that you still wore every single day. You felt bad when you got it because you didn’t think to get her a gift, but she told you not to worry about that, this was just a little thing that made her think of you. Besides, you were in the hospital!

“You know (y/n), I don’t have anyone else to visit over the holidays. I’m glad I get to be with you. I just wish it were under better circumstances.”

You started feeling a bit better and were able to come back for your second semester classes. You didn’t have Diane as a professor anymore, but you started to become friends. You would get coffee, or dinner. One night she asked you to come home with her, and be her girlfriend, to which you immediately agreed.

You slowly spent fewer nights at your dorm and more nights with Diane, and then you got sick again. After that, she convinced you to move in with her full-time, and you’ve been living in her house and sleeping in her bed ever since.

Right now, you were sitting in Diane’s and your bed, as she made dinner. You struggled to remember what happened next. This was when everything started to blend together. Your illnesses worsened even more shortly after you moved in with Diane. You remember being confined to the very same bed as Diane helped you do your finals from home, as she explained the situation to your parents and easily charmed them, convincing them you were in great hands.

“(Y/n), time for dinner!”, Diane called. She then walked to the bedroom to check if you needed any help.

“I’m fine, actually. I’ve been feeling a little better.”

“Good. Such a brave, good girl. Now eat up, alright baby?” cooed the older woman as she led you to the table and sat you down.

“Well, physically I’ve been feeling better, but-”

“What? What’s wrong? Have I not been paying enough attention to you? Are you feeling sad? anxious? My poor baby-”

“No, none of that. I’ve just been- forgetting things. Like, big chunks. My memories are so foggy. It’s hard for me to think at all sometimes.”

“Oh, honey, that’s just a side effect of your medication. It’s okay, it won’t last forever. And I’ll help you fill in any gaps you need until then. But you don’t need to worry. Not when you’re with me. Okay angel?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Oh, we’re in that kind of mood, are we?”

“Is that okay?”

“Very, very, okay, little one.”

Mommy was what you called Diane most often during sex. It turned her on immensely, and it excited you as well.

Diane grabbed you and brought you to the bed, tearing off your clothes.

“Are you still feeling good?”

“Yes Mommy.”

“Such a good girl for me. Such a good girl for Mommy.”

You spread your legs for her and she started touching you. But then-

“Mommy stop please. I can’t do this, Diane-”

“Alright. I’m sorry, I’ll go get your meds.

Diane went to the bathroom to get your meds and sleep aids.

“D-Diane?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Why can’t I remember things? I can’t even remember some things about my family.”

“A side effect of some of your medication sweetie. I told you that.”

“You did?”

“Yes. I will tell you this, my love. People have hurt you, in your past. I remember when we met you were having such a difficult time. You wanted friends, you had so much trouble making friends. The other students were so mean to you. Your parents they- they acted like having to come see you when you were in the hospital was some kind of inconvenience. It was awful. You were so lonely.”

“I know I was lonely.”

“Yes, sweetheart. You needed someone. You needed me. I have to be the one to take care of you. I am the only person that can love the way you deserve to be loved. I’m the only thing keeping you safe from a filthy, disgusting world. And I need you too. I need to love and protect you.”

“Yes, Diane. I need to sleep now.”

“Alright. Come here, darling,” said Diane. She held you until you fell asleep.

Next thing you knew, you were tied to the pole in the basement with several ropes. Diane was tying more and more ropes around you, around different parts of your body. The world felt heavy, blurry, fluid.

“Please stop, Diane. Why are you doing this?”

“It’s for your own good, darling. Trust me. You need this.”

The ropes began to cover your entire body. Your face, eyes, neck. Especially your neck. There was a sharp sting on your neck.

Your eyes flew open, and you awoke in a cold sweat, and screamed.

It was just a dream, I’m safe, thank God. Diane would never-

But then you noticed Diane. She was holding a small syringe, that seemed empty. And your neck stung. She was startled by your scream, clearly not expecting you to have woken up.

“Pretend you never saw that. I can’t stand it when you look so scared.”

“What did you do to me? What was in there, Diane?”

“You need it, sweetheart. I know you don’t like needles.”

“No. Why didn’t you tell me? What’s going on?”

“You need this. You need me. Your-”

You searched for the syringe and found it. There was a thick, black residue on it, and you sniffed it. It gave you a head rush.

“You’ve been drugging me. This is why I’ve forgotten things, isn’t it?”

“Come on, angel. You know I wouldn’t”

“But-”

“Don’t worry, just go back to sleep.”

You did feel tired. So tired. And you couldn’t even remember what you and Diane were even fighting about. So you went to sleep in her arms.

The next morning, Diane made you breakfast.

“How did you sleep, (y/n)?”

“I don’t know. I think I had a nightmare but I can’t remember-”

“Oh no! At least you can’t remember it, right?”

“I- I guess so.”

Diane felt relief that you didn’t remember what happened last night. Her plan was working. You would be hers, her precious girl, forever. All that work to find you, to make you trust her, making you sick, making you need her. She knew everything about you. You were her perfect girl, and she was yours. And you always would be.

#diane sherman #diane sherman x reader #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson #my fics #sarah paulson fics #im actually pretty proud of this one

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thatfrenchacademic · 3 years

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hey! you seem like you're a really good TA (? idk if that's the right term but you seem to have some prof/teacher tasks?) and i was wondering how you got the confidence to do that? i'm basically on your level of education but i wouldn't think i was smart/capable enough to judge other students' writing and stuff, i feel like one of them more than one of the teachers if you get what i mean. do you have any advice?

Hello !

That is such a thoughtful question - and I am sure all postgrads who suddendly have to start teaching feel the same at the beginning. In my opinion, it is a fairly healthy mindset to have, as long as it does not inhibit your own teaching and remain just some healthy awareness that, hey, you are still learning many things yourself.

I am very touched you think I am a good TA - I hope I manage to be a helpful one at least.d I definitely still often wonder "am I qualified to teach this ? To... grade this ? Who am I to say whether this is good work or not?" But here are a few thingsm coming both from my experience so far and my discussions with other TA, which could maybe be of help to you (each developed under the cut)

1. You know more than your students, and that will be enough to help them.

2. Teaching is a two way street : you are not lecturing to them, you are working with them.

2bis : Give constant verbal feedback to your students !

3. Your own experience of being an Undergrad may not be the best point of reference

4. Talk to other TAs ! You all face the same issues !

5. Try out things, and if they do not work, it's fine.

6. Organize your session alternating moments where you take the lead, and moments where students take the lead.

7. Help, My students are not talking !

8. Grading is tough, but we can make it easier.

I hope they will be of help, but no worries, it takes practice, trial and errors, and time will help you figure it out. Do not hesitate to come back here if you have any question or something you want to discuss ! (And tell me how your teaching went, I would love to hear it!)

1. You know more than your students, and that will be enough to help them.

It means you do not have to be an expert in the topic you teach. You may even just be familiar with it. But by virtue of being a postgrad student, you know how to do the reading effectively, you will get very quickly what is important, what to retain from this or that reading. And you just need to know more than your students. Which you absolutely will.

I think being passionate, showing that you are excited about what you are teaching, giving them this energy, this interest, is much much more important than being a full-blown expert in your area.

2. Teaching is a two way street : you are not lecturing to them, you are working with them.

And that is not me being vaguely pseudo-inspiration ; it is something I have learnt and truly realized when I took a course on teaching. There is much literature on this, but the take-away is that especially as a TA, it is helpful if you see your job as working with students. Engage with them, offer them different options to choose from during the session, explain that you are here to support their learning, and give them some space to have some agency over what happens ! Trust them to at least try their best - many are!- and they will trust you in return, and will be more likely to give you some feedback.

2bis : Give constant verbal feedback to your students !

This does not come easy to me, but students NEED to be told when they said something good ! Because if you do not tell them explicitely, how would they know that, hey, this was a pretty cool comment !

But also, be clear when answer or a point raised is not relevant or wrong, because it also guides their understand of the topic. "Ok, I can see why you would say that, but it's actually abit trickier...". "Ah, yes, it is very interesting that you raise it, it is a common misunderstanding and I am glad you are pointing it out, because it is an interesting discussion to have!"

3. Your own experience of being an Undergrad may not be the best point of reference

When I started teaching, I made the mistake of thinking "ok, what sort of TA/tutorial do I wish I had, in Undergrad?", and went with what I know I would have enjoyed. Except I am a passionate nerdy introvert who hated talking to my peers and doing group works, and wanted a TA who was no-bullshit, clear, professional. Most of your students are probably not, and may indeed enjoy group work, or the opportunity to connect with their peers during your tutorial. Most of your students will appreciate a TA who is more forthcoming, friendly, and may crack a joke or two. And it is a weird role to have, it may clash with your personality (it definitely clashes with mine), but it's ok if it takes time to find the right zone for you ! It is absolutely part of the process !

4. Talk to other TAs ! You all face the same issues !

Pooling experience with other TAs is fantastic. Because no matter what issue you are facing, one of them faced it already. How do you teach in the shitty Room 605 where the computer does not work ? How do they deal with students who do not do the readings ? How to they handle lack of motivation from students ? What sort of group work do they organize ? Who sort of online tools do they rely on ? How do they deal with all the emails they get ? And on that note...

5. Try out things, and if they do not work, it's fine.

Do not be afraid to try things. I tend to stay away from "complex" activities which can confuse students, or rely too much on technology. But group work ? There are so many types of group work ! Why stick to just the "think of this question in group of 3 for 5 minutes", when you could do a syndicate, snowballing, 2-minutes essay, fishbowl, think-pair-share, buzz groups...

And sometimes, it will not work. Just... a bad session. And you feel that it's on you, that you did not manage to do your work, that you are a bad teacher... And refer to Point 2. Then, calmly, talk about it with another TA. Explain what you did, and try to get their opinion on it, reflect on it. But it is never all on you.

6. Organize your session alternating moments where you take the lead, and moments where students take the lead.

Teaching is exhausting, learning is exhausting, genuinely, so balance out moments where you do the heavy work, and moments where they do. I like to have a rough session plan with all the activities I have planned, and indicate for each if it is "ME", "STUDENTS", "ALL". And also ensure that your students are given the opportunity to really take an active role, which is way better for learning !

7. Help, my students are not talking :

This will happen. You will ask a question, no one will answer. Big, awkward, heavy silence. You reformulated the question, but clearly it is not working. Here are a few ways I have reacted to it :

- Show of hands 1 : for a quick diagnosis. "Can you raise your hand if you have done the reading for this question ? Just so I know if this is maybe the problem". Encourage the ones who have done the readings to explain it to the others.

- Show of hands 2 : "Ok, there are two ways to answer this question X and Y. Can you raise you hand if you think Y, and lower it if you think X?". Encourage some who picked Y to explain why, then same with X.

- Show of hands 3 : "Ok, let's lower the pressure. Who thinks they kind of have an answer, but is not sure about how to word it, or properly argument it?". Ask whoever raise their hand to start, and pick up yourself from there.

- Switch to think-pair-share : "Ok, how about we think a bit about this on our own for a few minutes, and then you can compare your own answers with your neigbour"

- Collapse the classroom : "Ok, I can see that this is not working. It's ok, can you tell me if it is because the topic is not super interesting, or the reading ? Are the questions not what you expected?"

- End of the session clear-up : [once everything is over] "Ok, so now that the session is over, can I ask you guys why it was difficult for you to talk today ? Just so I can make sure I can come up with questions that are useful to you, next time. If some of you want to stay a few minutes to talk about what you would like to change for the next tutorials, we can talk about it now ; you don't have to, of course"

8. Grading is tough, but we can make it easier.

Especially if you are grading things like essays, we can often feel uneasy, unsure how to grade them, how legitimate we are to grade them, especially with the sheer impact grades can have on students. Ideally, you want to have a list of things that are PLUS POINTS, and perhaps some that are MINUS POINTS, and have those strictly guide your grading, to be fair to all students and assess them similarly. I also found that it is helpful to grade the paper, only the paper. When there is a really, really bad essay where clearly the student barely tried, it's easy to get frustrated, because you did your best, and clearly the student did not care ? But you never actually know what happened. Real examples of students submitting absolutely terrible work include : a student who was grieving her mother, a student who had been in hospital and did not know she could ask for a delay, an adult student whose child had gotten sick the days before, a foreign student with a poor grasp on English... When you are grading the 78th essay of the week, it is easy to forget that each of them is from an individual, and we get to judge the work they do, but not why they did it. Even in your comments and feedback, always be compassionate.

#life as a TA #teaching #University #phdblr #gradblr

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juliathephantom · 3 years

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JATP Fanfic Recs: Multichapter Edition

* indicates complete

'Stupid Cupid, Stop Hitting On Me' by Bluefire510

Juke

Luke, a troublemaker cupid, meets Julie, who is also one of Love HQ's toughest cases to crack.

She claims to have no desire to fall in love.

But Luke is always up for a challenge.

Let's see if he could get Julie to fall for her Perfect Match by next Valentine's Day.... and maybe teach her all about love while he's at it.

*Operation Hashtag Rulie by where_you_go

Reggie/Luke/Julie

“Explain yourselves,” Caleb ground out.

“Uh…it’s not what it looks like?” Reggie tried, wincing.

“Oh really, Reginald? Because it looks like two of my most popular band members from a family-friendly band are fornicating in public!”

Julie and Reggie get caught up in a PR misunderstanding that leads to them "dating" for a few months. It's not a big deal, or at least it wouldn't be, if Luke would stop acting so weird.

*Unexpected by Phantom_Lover

Luke is determined to breeze through his senior year and onto mega stardom (which means avoiding school, and Principal Lessa, as much as possible). That is until he's forced to work side-by-side with quiet good-girl, Julie Molina, on the big end-of-the-year talent show. The two struggle to see eye to eye, and meeting the all-important deadline seems impossible until something unexpected happens between them.

keys to the cage (and the devil to pay) by HearJessRoar

Juke, Willex

Julie Molina has always thought it would be rather exciting to meet a pirate.

Unfortunately, she's right.

"Julie, Julie Patterson, I'm a maid here in the governor's household," she bluffs. And she wishes that Luke's name hadn't been the first that she'd come up with, because the long-haired pirate's eyebrows raise immediately.

"Luke got married?" he says, sounding oddly betrayed.

His blonde companion looks equally gutted. "He didn't even tell us."

Piss Off Your Parents (Date Me To Scare Them) by TheNameIsBritney

Willex

Alex Mercer doesn't want to go home for Christmas; but if he has to, he's certainly gonna raise a little hell. Enter: Willie, the cute guy in his history of English class who would be the perfect fake boyfriend candidate.

So if you wanna piss off your parents, date me to scare them, show them you're all grown up. If long hair and tattoos are what attract you, baby then you're in luck.

*i'll hold your music (here inside my hands) by musicals_musicals

"Your soulmate must love music just like you do”

Julie is 3 years old, enthusiastically playing a small plastic piano, the first time she sees her string.

It makes sense that music would connect her to her soulmate.

How Julie finds her way back to music, joins a band, falls in love, and meets Luke Patterson (not necessarily in that order)

*a masterpiece in motion, more beautiful every day by fairylightsandrainydays

Willex, Juke

Alex Mercer is a merboy with a fascination for the human world. Willie is a prince who he saves from a storm. And Caleb Covington is the sea witch who is going to make Alex's dream come true.

So long as Caleb gets what he wants.

*days go by and seasons change (lets try again next winter) by itsagamefortwo

Juke

julie's ready for a year away from home, studying and trying to re-find the magic in music. luke's about to start on a summer tour around europe opening for a band. they meet one night, sparks fly and emotions run high. now they've just got to try and see if they can maintain a long distance friendship.

Who Could Deny These Butterflies? by xxPrettyLittleTimeBombxx

Juke

“I know this is going to sound kinda crazy…but, could you maybe pretend to be in love with me for a few minutes?”

—

When Julie Molina approaches Luke Patterson at a bar and asks him to pretend to be her boyfriend, she never expects to find herself in a position where she and Luke have to keep up the ruse for longer than five minutes. Figures that out of all of the strangers she could have approached that night, she’d gone and picked the one guy who just so happens to be in a rock band that’s on the brink of blowing up.

*relight that spark by @ruzek-halstead

Juke

julie molina has had nothing but a tough life. after losing both her parents early on, she was left in the care of her step-monster karen and her two step-daughters. while working at her late father's diner, completing household duties and being at karen's beck and call at all hours, julie was well on her way to getting accepted into the college of her dreams and having enough money to move out.

and then one day she received a text message from an unknown number. it started out innocent, crossed wires based on a flyer she put up three years ago.

this is the story of julie molina and her prince charming, and everything in between.

i never saw you coming (and i'll never be the same) by ruzekhalstead (@ruzek-halstead)

Juke

julie molina, a new student to uc berkeley, secures a job at a tiny, run-down grocery store, where she meets a group of people who inadvertently become some of the most important people in her life.

there's nothing like suffering in the workplace with your co-workers to solidify a bond.

a look into julie's life in a brand new city, as told by the customer service experience throughout the months.

an oddly specific grocery store au that no one asked for but i'm writing anyway to satisfy my brain

*Love Drunk by captainkippen

Juke

Thirty-two missed calls. Fifty-eight texts waiting. Over one hundred various social media notifications. A deep sense of foreboding took over. Julie swallowed. Slowly, she lifted the phone back to her ear.

"Flynn… what happened last night?"

After a night out in Vegas, Julie and Luke wake up to find themselves married. Hijinks ensue.

*So that's how it happens by echocharm (@echocharm17618)

Juke

But it had to be today. Julie had this crazy feeling in her stomach. Not nervous butterflies. More like fireflies that were trying to zap her (Do fireflies electrocute people? She should google that). It felt like that moment her parents spoke about all the time. The day they met. And when they first spoke to each other. Her mom always says that an intense zap went through her whole body.

Are you new or nervous? Julie has been waiting a (short)lifetime to hear those words be said to her.

She walked down a few more steps in the auditorium and found a spot. It was one of the few seats left in the room that wasn’t all the way up in the back. She sat down and settled into the uncomfortable, hard, plastic chair and took a deep shaky breath. The prof was nowhere to be seen. But there was a cute boy in the seat next to her. He had sort of long brown hair that was covered with a grey toque. And he was wearing a cut off t-shirt and you could see his very nice arms. Julie’s breathing was still shaky, and his attractiveness wasn’t helping the situation.

*we're too young to know things like love by Ephemeral_Joy

(@lydias--stiles)

Juke

The various ways and situations people notice the connection between Julie and Luke, whether that be a close friend or a complete stranger.

(started as a 5+1 fic and then i kind of went rogue. oops.)

*and i know i've kissed you before, but i didn't do it right (can i try again?) by Ephemeral_Joy (@lydias--stiles)

Juke

Some things just can't be fixed with a song.

(Julie and Luke break up.)

*The Infamous Tale of Luke and Julie's Grand Trip Across America by Ephemeral_Joy (@lydias--stiles)

Juke

In any normal situation, Luke wouldn't let this random girl hitchhike with him across America.

Then again, he wasn't normal. And neither was she.

(or: the roadtrip!au no one asked for)

*We Found Wonderland by ICanSpellConfusionWithAK (@pink-flame)

At the end of season one Julie isn’t able to save the boys and they are jolted out of existence. But what if there was another way? Julie finds herself back in 1995 with a chance to stop the boys of Sunset Curve from ever dying at all. But will she be able to find her way home afterwards? Will she want to? Or has Alice really gone down the rabbit hole this time...

A Moment of Quiet Conversation by JackONeillisTheMan

Juke

Julie and Luke talk about how he was the one who introduced her to rock. Then just fluff, more and more fluff.

*Feels like I've opened my eyes again by ICanSpellConfusionWithAK (@pink-flame)

Juke

After the whirlwind her life has been since the boys showed up it’s not that surprising that Julie would be a little tired. But is it normal that she’s more exhausted than she’s ever been? With Nick acting weird, Alex and Reggie both wrapped up in their own problems and her relationship with Luke still a big question mark, she has her work cut out for her if she’s looking to sit back and relax.

Basically my ideas and speculation about what season 2 might hold, or at least some of the things I would like to see.

find the strength, find the melody by sunset_phantom

Juke

An AU in which the boys are alive, Julie has been kicked out of her music program, and she somehow ends up falling in love with Luke in three days while he simultaneously brings her back to her first love of all: music.

after silence, wake me up by Vargynja

Juke

Julie hasn't been able to make music after her mother's death. She lives in New York working as an assistant for Luke, working hard to move forward in her career.

Luke finds out he's about to be deported back to Canada. A panicked lie leads them to fake a relationship to get married so he can stay in the country. Despite working together for two years they aren't close but a trip to Alaska to visit Julie's family might change that

Based on the premise of The Proposal (2009)

#jatp #jatp fanfic #juke #julie molina #willex #luke patterson #netflixwewantjatp2

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soulmatesabroad · 3 years

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Soulmate Prompts:

Since this is a fic fest about soulmates, we are in need of prompt suggestions! Please send in some prompts that have to do with soulmates! You do NOT have to be writing for this fest to send in prompts!

More info can be found at @soulmatesabroad!

A: The One au. The One is a tv series that's sort of dystopian in that it explores a reality in which you could suddenly apply to this program that will match you to your soulmate and it follows how specific people deal with that.

B: Where you wake up with a tattoo after meeting your soulmate. Larry are vacationing at the same hotel, they meet and then every day for 4 days after they both gain a new tattoo. When they meet again, they realize their tattoos match perfectly. Rope & anchor, compass & ship, heart & arrow, rose & dagger.

C: Ziall soulmates au where their first words to each other are tattooed somewhere on their body. Both of them have the phrase “fuck you” on their arms. Of course the first time they meet they both say...

D: in uni, prof is giving a lecture, his student is his soulmate, figuring it out over the semester

E: reverse Wellington: Larry meet, drunk Louis shouts "soulmate" at Harry, then they get to know each other and fall in love

F: Larry please- soulmates who meet in dreams and appear the way they see themselves so that irl one doesn’t recognize the other because he sees himself as plain/boring

G: Larry please - One of them either doesn’t want to meet his soulmate and has been doing everything to avoid meeting them. He gets stuck in a time loop (like Groundhog Day) until he meets and acknowledges his soulmate.

H: One of them is a surfer, the other is a photographer and they meet somewhere warm. They're 26 and kinda gave up on finding their soulmate but then it happens.

i: any pairing: universe in which soulmates recognise each other by having the same song stuck in their head. cue person a hearing person b humming the song under their breath in location x

J: Larry please - fic where each year you get opportunities to meet your soulmate and live life with them but as soon as the clock hits 00:00 on Dec 31st your memory resets in regards to who your soulmate is. There’s no way to go around this...or is there?

K: A is a hopeless romantic who has always dreamed of meeting their soulmate. Unfortunately their remote location means they see the same few people every day, none of whom is their match. When Character B arrives and A falls in love with them, the question arises: are they soulmates? Or does A just want them to be?

L: Food is love, and supposedly your soulmate's cooking will taste better than anything you've ever eaten before. Too bad Character A is hopeless in the kitchen. Character B is the chef who promises they can teach anyone how to cook-- is that the only reason A finds their food so delicious? Or is there something more at play?

M: Characters A and B are working together on a yacht. They share a room, and as crew they also happen to share most of their working hours and duties as well. Is that the reason they're so drawn to one another? Regardless of their connection, they're both determined to keep it professional.

N: It's not only humans who have soulmates, apparently. At least if the pet psychic Character A has consulted about their dog's depression is to be believed. The psychic claims the pup met his soulmate at doggie daycare. Now A is trying to see if she's right by seeking out every possible dog from the playgroup. Will helping a dog find it's soulmate lead Character A to the same thing?

O: Hybrids aren't accepted many places, but in a few countries they have full rights and equality, even if prejudice still exists. Character A was raised in an anti-hybrid country and is now studying/working in a hybrid friendly place. Character B is the hybrid neighbor who they feel drawn to in ways they've heard are typical of soulmates. The possibility is as frightening as it is enticing.

P: Nontraditonal ABO: it's generally accepted doctrine that alphas and omegas are made to go together. Character A has always been attracted to people of their own secondary gender, and has therefore run away from the concept of finding a soulmate. When they meet character B, who shares their secondary gender, and find that the two of them share a soulmark-- the sign of a true mate --their world is turned upside down.

Q: (larry) They have been penpals for years now, sharing their little creative thoughts with each other. Will they ever meet? A new job, a different city, some crossed paths and fate might help.

R: Louis is 30 and the CEO of his family business in Toronto and he has hired a new assistant, Harry, 27. A lot of sexual tension, business trips, coincidences and ‘if he my soulmate or I just have a stalker and also a big crush?’

S: Strangers to friends with benefits to lovers larry; Louis and Harry has finished college and they both are doing a tour across Europe visiting different countries. They start from different cities in and meet in the second/third country they’re visiting. They get along quickly and have a one night stand because they think they won’t meet again. But they meet again in the next city or in the trip to the next city. Is their connection due to their sexual attraction or because they’re soulmates?

T: Louis and Harry are both Niall’s friend but they don’t know each other, however they meet in Niall’s wedding (with his soulmate) in Ireland (or another country if the author prefer another place for the wedding)

U: Larry: Soulmates have a special connection, they have visions of their more important events of their life - both sad and happy but they can’t see their faces, bodies or their friends/families faces. Louis and Harry know everything important that happen to them but they haven’t met yet, they live in different countries and they know that but they don’t know the country they live in. How will they meet? What will happen?

V: Larry: Exes to lovers - People have their soulmates mark in their 18 birthday. Harry and Louis were together during high school and break up before Louis 18 birthday because person A was afraid of not being their soulmates. Louis goes to travel aboard so they don’t know about their mark. They meet again some years later when they’re in their 20...

W: Larry enemies to lovers: Both of them work for the same company and has the same job position but they hate each other because the first time they met it wasn’t “meet cute”. All their coworkers think they are similar and would make an amazing couple so they try to get them together. Most people don’t believe in soulmates anymore, they think it was a legend or maybe it’s not a legend and they’re soulmates?

X: Untraditional soulmates !! For example, a pairing (or poly) comprised of people who aren’t soulmates but are in love anyway. Maybe their “true” soulmates died or just didn’t work out for some reason. Maybe their “true” soulmates are platonic and separate from the romantic relationship. But ultimately the theme being something like “i am choosing to love this person” rather than the world telling them who to love :)

Y: Character A is a writer who pours their heart and soul into everything they write, though their focus on the soulmate trope is underappreciated. They go away on a writer's retreat to give it one last try and meet Character B, a person who seems to have stepped right out of one of their novels. Is this their soulmate or a figment of their imagination, or have they truly had one of their characters come to life?

Z: In a world where you see in color after hearing the sound of your soulmate's voice, Character A doesn't remember seeing in black and white. When they realize they're different, nobody can explain the reason. It isn't until they meet Character B, a stranger with the same affliction, that they begin to put things together. Or: A and B hear one another's cries as babies, changing their vision from black and white to color before they could possibly have realized it.

AA: Characters A & B somehow keep running into each other inexplicably all over the world. Maybe they happen to study abroad together then have a work conference in the same city then vacation in the same city, etc. Eventually they realize they've been seeing each other all over and maybe the universe is trying to tell them something.

BB: Louis gets a call from an unknown number from across the world. When he answers it, he's asked if he is a Mr. Harry Styles' previous employer and to give a recommendation on his performance. Amused, he pretends he is Harry's old boss and gives a glowing recommendation without knowing who he is. The job that this Harry is going for must be quite intense, because a few days later Louis is asked to fly out to interview in person to attest to Harry's character, where he ends up meeting Harry and falling for him.

CC: OT4/5 platonic soulmates with all the main characters being aro, ace, demisexual, etc. A soulmark appears when you meet a soulmate-- whether they're a platonic, romantic, or sexual soulmate(or sooner combo of the 3) is something each person has to discover for themselves. OT4/5 are grateful to find soulmates who are excited to experience beautiful and deep platonic relationships.

DD: Soulmarks are a trait that most humans have lost. Character A is a vampire who was born in a time when they were far more common. Imagine their surprise when they meet Character B, a human, whose soulmark complements their own.

EE: Larry: An AU where magic exists, Louis has always thought he’s a dark wizard and Harry doesn’t know if he’s a wizard or a normal human. Spoiler: he’s a wizard! They meet when they are 18/20 in a trip and they find more than themselves.

FF: Larry: Louis and Harry are friends of Zayn and Liam but they haven’t met yet. Ziam is having a wedding and their bachelor parties in Hawaii, they meet them.

GG: Louis and Harry haven’t met yet but they meet in a reality show that consists of traveling around the world. The rules of the reality show: Choose a person in the first program to travel with them (Louis and Harry travel together) and spend as little money as possible.

HH: Louis and Harry have been working in the same building for years but they haven’t met officially although they’ve seen each other around. They officially meet when their boss decided to do a work trip to Sydney

ii: Louis and Harry go to Orlando to visit the amusement park. They meet when they’re waiting in the queue for one of the rides and they spend a lot of time together because their other friends are tired of visiting different amusement park and they want to chill.

JJ: Famous/Non-famous larry: “Every time that you and your soulmate are in the same city, you’ll have a mark in your wrist. If one of you leave, the mark disappears” Person A is an actor who loves love but is tiring of two things: fake pr-relationships that make the general public believes that he’s not interest in having a soulmate and traveling. Person B wants to find his soulmate but he knows it’s not in his city so he’s traveling around. They have been in the same place several times but they haven’t met. How many countries will they visit until they meet?

KK: larry please: It is well known that the first time soulmates touch they leave a vivid mark on their partner's skin. Well one morning Louis wakes up with a bright stripe across his cheekbone and no idea what happened.

LL: hl au: harry is a well-known anthropologist from england but he’s requested to join the discovery of an ancient palace in mexico city. louis is a historian that has lived in said city for several years now, so he’s almost a local. the discovery they both take part of includes a blue greeny jewel that holds a legend about soulmates.

MM: Zouiam ot3 matching soulmate tattoos

NN: A and B are childhood friends and have known they're soulmates since they got their marks in their early teen years but they never develop romantic feelings for each other but they Do want to spend the rest of their life together. Bit of conflict / comfort.

OO: Lirry Shrek au. Harry Fiona has always expected their perfect soulmate to break their curse. Liam Shrek is tired of playing the role of the ogre and being rejected by prejuices. They meet.

PP: Zayn is travelling with his van, he picks up some hitchhikers along the way. They stargaze and bond with each other. They find out they are soulmates when some dangerous situation arises.

QQ: ot5 1d era au. A slowly finds out they are soulmates with each of the others while in the bus or travelling/staying abroad together.

RR: Ziam: In a world where magic exists but soulmates are rare, Liam and Ziam met in the same Magical College and have an instant connection. In history of magic, they learn about soulmates and Character A know that they (Ziam) are soulmates but he’s afraid and tries to avoid Character B all the time.

SS: Larry - Louis needs a break of his job and travels to a place where Harry lives and Harry needs a break of his past relationships. They meet in a pub and after too many drinks, they decide to do a road trip around the country. The author decides how people know who is their soulmates.

TT: Zouis: they discover they’re soulmates in Zayn’s wedding. Louis is the boyfriend of one of the best mates

UU: Larry - A reality show is trying to prove that soulmates still exist and Louis and Harry are participants in it

VV: HL Monday AU with Harry as Mickey and Louis as Chloe (but with a happy and not toxic ending please!)

WW: The voice you hear your thoughts in is your soulmate’s but you don’t know who they are until you hear them speak for the first time

XX: You’ve been sketching your soulmate’s face since you were old enough to pick up a pencil, the drawings become more realistic through the years as the day you meet comes near

YY: Red strings of fate au. Person A cuts their string. Person B is devastated to find their string has been cut but moves on with their life and finds love with, you guessed it, Person A who doesn’t believe in soulmates. When Person B finds out that Person A cut their string they’re so angry because they know how devastated they were to find their cut string. And Person A is confused at first because they thought Person B didn’t believe in soulmates either and didn’t realize that it was because they had no way of finding their soulmate. And then it hits Person A that there might be a slight chance that Person B IS their soulmate. So they nervously show up with their string and ask if Person A wants to see if the ends fuse together or not. Up to writer if the ends fuse or not.

ZZ: Person A reads tarot cards and while reading Person B’s cards, Person A can see that the cards are telling them that the two of them are soul mates

AAA: Soulmates can hear what their soulmate is singing. Harry grows up with a soulmate who exclusively sings a weird blend of Oasis, Green Day, and the odd Light Killers song. Louis grows up with a soulmate who mostly sings Fleetwood Mac and Peter Gabriel. They both hate their soulmates taste in music.

BBB: Every person is born with a golden string on their finger attached to their soulmate. Everyone but them can see it but it is considered highly rude to tell people without prompting (like taking away a coming of age experience). Or Harry and Louis fight a lot and everyone looks at them knowingly until one of them cracks and asks someone about it.

CCC: Character A runs a clothing boutique of some kind and one day uses a steamer too close to the smoke detector and sets off the fire alarm. Character B is one of the firemen to respond. Character A is very embarrassed that they did this in front of a super hot fireman, but the firemen are super nice about it. It just so happens they have to come back the following week for an annual inspection of the building and Character A jokes around/flirts with B. Soulmate aspect up to writer. (One idea could be matching soul marks?)

DDD: When soulmates touch for the first time, an electric shock goes through each person. They can’t touch each other without a shock...until they fall in love with each other. Too bad Character A & B hate each other and are not thrilled that when they touch by accident they finally feel the electricity they’ve always been waiting for.

EEE: The color of your eyes act like a mood ring and changes according to your soulmates' mood. The first time you make eye contact with your soulmate, they turn the same color.

FFF: Reluctant soulmates where one or both of them keep their soulmarks covered at all times because they want to fall in love without the person soulmates

GGG: AU where your soulmate smells like HOME only they’re both too dirty and disgusting to smell like anything other than yuck

HHH: Older Larry AU where they’re both in their 40s or older and still haven’t met The One. Embracing this, they each go on a trip alone, but wind up meeting

iii: Fleetwood Mac/ Rumours AU - Larry as Stevie and Lindsey, Ziam as Christine and John. A breakup and a divorce while recording and touring an iconic album. Endgame Larry. Lovers to exes to soulmates.

#soulmate prompts #mod post #33

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tarteausuga · 4 years

Text

maybe soon

Contents: fluff, basketball player! Johnny Featuring: Johnny x reader, other members of NCT sporadically A/N: there could potentially be another part... word count: 2.4k-ish

In which you’re the head athletic trainer of the basketball team that Johnny is the captain of...

"Mark, I know you can wrap it yourself. I've taught you multiple times." You breeze by one of the youngest players of the team who was begging you to wrap his ankle for him.

"You do it so much better though! I don't play as well if I do it myself." He whined as you rolled your eyes at him.

"You'll have to wait your turn then." You direct your attention to Johnny, the captain who has been nursing a sprained knee for the past few weeks. "Have you been icing it on and off like I've told you to?" You ask him but your attention is directed at his leg.

"Yes and I've been keeping it elevated. How can I not when you're in half of my classes nagging me during lectures?" He smirks at you but you don't pay him any attention.

"It looks a lot better now. I'll find you a knee brace and you shouldn't need to wrap it anymore." You smile, content with your treatment as you pin the bandage in place.

"You're a lot less scary when you smile, you know?" He jokes with you as you give him a slight push. Telling him to shut it before finally attending to the needy Mark Lee who is being touted as the next star of your university's basketball team.

You felt a lot of pride in your work with the team. Sure it was all for course credit towards your athletic training degree but something about it made you feel like you were part of the team. They relied on you and you often felt like you were supporting them through your work. You were never great at sports so this was your one way of being part of something that you love so much.

Your dedication had paid off as you had been named the head student trainer after years of running water bottles and hauling medical kits. Working under the advice of your professor, you were trusted to call the shots and unlike some of your classmates, your advising professor rarely questioned you.

"Alright boys, gather around." Johnny called out in his booming voice just as you were finishing up wrapping Mark's ankle. You then proceeded to help your junior trainers with packing up the kits and filling water bottles.

"Johnny is always watching you." One of the younger girls said to you and giggled.

"He's so hot, I wish he would look at me." Another girl pouted and you fought off the urge to roll your eyes in front of them.

You found that a lot of the students who signed up to be part of your team were mainly a) female and b) trying to get close with at least one of the players. It was frustrating on your end because it often meant more work for you as they were often too flustered or distracted to focus on their actual jobs.

"You know that I help to grade you guys, right?" You glare at them as you found yourself doing your kit inventories alone while they were busy giggling about the players.

"You're no fun. You can't possibly say you're not attracted to any of them." A third girl scoffed at you.

"I can honestly say that when you deal with their sweaty feet enough, they lose their allure." You lie as they all become visibly disgusted and finally start doing their jobs assigned by you. You stifle a smile as you look up and meet Johnny's eyes from across the room. The last thing you were going to do was admit to your juniors that you were interested in someone. And the second last thing you were going to do was tell them that the person in mind was none other than campus celebrity, Johnny Suh.

You approved the medical kits as Johnny dismissed the team and they proceeded towards the gym for warmups. You also sent your trainers to follow, reminding them to do their inspections of the gym and not ogling the team.

"Go easy on them." Johnny nudges you.

"That wouldn't be any fun then." You nudge him back.

"See? Much cuter with a smile on your face." He chuckles while running away before you can smack his arm.

There was always so much going on during game nights. The basketball team was the most popular on campus, beating out the soccer team somehow. There were hoards of fangirls in the stands screaming out the names of individual players. Then there was the band and of course, the cheerleaders but to no one's surprise, the players were the centre of attention.

Johnny seemed to thrive in this environment. He would flash a smile every once in a while to the girls in the stands, drawing screams sounding like they were in pain. You could even see some of the cheerleaders try not to lose their composure from the sidelines when they saw him push his hair out of his eyes.

"That kid is lucky he's great at basketball," the coach mumbled before shouting "FOCUS ON THE PLAY SUH!"

You couldn't help but fight back a chuckle as Johnny posted up a 3-pointer before saluting his coach.

---

The game was over and while everyone was returning to their respective homes to rest after the exciting win, you were back in the training room making sure the team started their recoveries well: Attending to bruises, strains and pre-existing injuries as quickly as possible. Johnny often sat back and watched you work. Laughing to himself whenever you made a quick comment towards any of the guys.

"Are you going to ask y/n out anytime soon?" Jaehyun, another popular player on campus, slid next to his captain.

"Nah I'm just going to get rejected. I've tried every year and it's always a no." Johnny smiles fondly at all of the times you've turned him down.

"You seem oddly happy about that." Jaehyun frowns.

"We spend more time together like this. We would have to be separated if we started dating. Conflict of interest or whatever but I still ask every year just to make sure we feel the same way." Johnny explains.

"And you're okay with the rejection…" Jaehyun tries to confirm but Johnny only nods, continuing to watch you work with the team. "There are other girls out there. You know that right?" Jaehyun suggested.

Johnny tried not to seem physically disgusted at the prospect. "I'm aware, Jaehyun. Thanks." He said in his low tone that often scared the other players.

"Alright, I'm just saying." Jaehyun slid away.

When the room quiets down and all of the team has trickled out, you're left with melted bags of ice and cut up pieces of athletic tape surrounding you. But you're not alone as Johnny seats himself across from you on the training table.

"Is it my turn now?" He smiles.

"You need to pay attention better," you sigh with a faint smile, undoing the bandages wrapped around his knee, "one slip and you're doing to hurt your knee again."

Johnny always had knee problems. He tore his ACL during your second year of university and it never fully recovered after surgery. That was probably the toughest year of Johnny's career, facing the fact that he likely wouldn't make his dreams of playing in the NBA come to reality. You tenderly apply ice to his knee as he winces at the cold.

"You worry too much." He says.

"You make me worry." You respond quickly.

"At least you feel something for me." He lowers himself to look up into your concentrated gaze.

"Let's not do this now." You look away and go make an ice bag for him.

"Oh come on, we always do this. I ask you out, you reject me, we bicker back and forth then we both quietly know the feelings are still there." He leans over you at the ice machine.

The best you can do is sigh and roll your eyes, "you're insufferable, Johnny Suh."

"And that's why you love me." He looks for an agreeing smile from you expectantly. You force one to appease him.

---

It was the morning before one of the last midterms of your university career. Nervous energy was all around as that classic air of tension flooded the campus as students wracked their brains with exam material. Your morning cup of relief, a coffee in your hand and Taeyong, one of your best friends and another member of the basketball team, talking your ear off.

"I spent all night making this tiny little cheat card my prof is letting us bring in but Yuta fucking spills water on it this morning, I was ready to kill the guy but-" he stopped talking when he noticed you stop dead in your tracks. He looked back to see you with a mortified look on your face. "Hey, what's up?" He gently touches your shoulder before turning towards your line of sight to see what had stopped you.

What he saw shocked him too. One of the cheerleaders who always made it known that she found Johnny attractive was seated on his lap in the food hall. He seemed disinterested but nonetheless, there she was. You immediately turn to walk the other way even though you were on your way towards your exam.

"Are you okay?" Taeyong struggled to catch up as you quickened your pace to make it in time while taking the long way around.

"It's fine, Taeyong. It's not like we're dating." You huff.

"I know but you guys like each other, don't you?" He asked.

"No," you lied, "I could never like someone like him so he can do whatever he wants."

"Hey." He finally stopped you.

"I don't have the time for this, I have to write my midterm." You slip away as you threw your untouched coffee in the trash. The thought of drinking coffee disgusted you all of a sudden. Your brain associated the beverage with Johnny as he was the one that introduced it to you during your first year of university.

You walked out of your exam and saw Taeyong waiting patiently outside. He had his fair share of fans around campus but he never entertained them as much as some of the other members of the team. He was often depicted as cold and scary so not many people approached him, unaware that he's one of the most kind-hearted people in your life.

"Hey, how did it go?" He asked you meekly.

"Pretty sure I bombed it," you sigh, "what about yours?"

"The twisted thing is that those cheat sheets force you to study so I guess I don't need to kill my roommate." You both laugh.

"Hey what are you guys laughing at?" You hear the voice you were dreading from behind you.

"I'll see you later, Taeyong." You say before quickly finding a new path for your afternoon.

"Is she okay?" Johnny asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"That's not for me to answer." Taeyong shrugs.

You try your best to act normal for practice that evening. You go through your usual motions of getting everyone taped up and ready but everyone seemed to notice your usual lack of spirit and friendly banter with the team. Even your junior trainers talk quietly about whether you broke up with Johnny despite you telling them repetitively that there wasn't anything going on between the two of you. You avoid his eye contact as their coach runs through their plays and generally avoid looking at him in general during the whole practice.

When the training room cleared out, you were left with Johnny again and you tried to rush through wrapping his ice bag onto his knee when he grabs your hand. He bends his neck down again to look into your eyes which were starting to fill up with tears.

"Hey what's going on?"

"Nothing. I'm just stressed about midterms." You turn away from him to wipe your tears.

"I'm sure you did fine," he uses his strength to force you to face him. "You're the smartest person I know."

"A lot of good that does me." You scoff.

"Did I do something?" He asked.

"It's nothing, Johnny. I'm fine." You insist but he's not convinced.

"Are you mad at me or something?" He finally struck a chord with you.

You can only look at him for a moment as you try to tell him why you're upset with him. How do you word this without making things even more complicated than they already are?

"You didn't do anything wrong. I'm just dumb and thought I was special but I'm just like every other girl out there for you. It's my fault." You try to force a smile but he only looks at you in confusion.

"Other girls? What other girls? Oh did you see me with…" he pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he lets out a breath of frustration. "That bitch…" he mumbles to himself.

"What?" You say.

"You saw that, didn't you?" He read the expression on your face before continuing, "we were just talking about midterms when she suddenly sits on me. I asked what she was doing and she said she saw her ex and needed a cover because she's trying to get across the point that she's not into him anymore."

You continue to look at him, trying to figure out whether he's telling the truth when he continues his explanation.

"Did you see me touching her at all?" You shook your head in response. "I didn't want to push her off, I might have hurt her so I just let her be. Now I'm thinking she only did that because she saw you." He took your cold hands in his. "I only like you, alright? I've always liked you otherwise I wouldn't bug you so much about everything."

"But I keep rejecting and you can have literally any girl you want." You say quietly.

"And where am I? Hanging out with you whenever I can. Waiting for basketball to be over so we can maybe be an actual couple." He laughs.

"Really?" You ask with tear soaked eyes.

"Yeah." He says.

"That's… kind of dumb." You say with a soft laugh,

"Thanks, I love you too." He smiles, running his thumb over the lines of your hand.

#nct imagines #nct imagine #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct scenario #johnny suh imagine #johnny suh imagines #johnny suh fluff #johnny suh scenario #johnny suh scenarios #kpop fluff

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sparklelight3 · 4 years

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Hypothesis idea thingy for how Ash and Gou could get together (quickly dissolves into a poorly written fanfic because I’m a disaster)

So, I had a mental image of like a 2-3 ep. mini arc thing that ends with the two getting together. I apologize in advance for the fact that this gets progressively more and more detailed and eventually just becomes a semi fanfic. This is unedited btw, so enjoy that as well.

Episode 1: Starts off with the two out on a mission like usual. Then we have another scene like in ep 3 where Ash just does something that completely astonishes Gou. They resolve the issue like they always do, but Gou is overall very flustered, even more so then usual. Ash could have like a dense Ash moment where he asks if Gou feels sick or something, Gou quickly denying it. Since it’s post ep 36, Ash takes note and dawns a concerned expression. Skip ahead a day or two, and Ash needs to go on a solo trip to Pallet Town for his mom’s birthday. This leaves Gou alone with his feelings for the first time in months. He has time to think about what happened on the last trip, and a couple other moments from past episodes might come up in his head as well. In this time, he fully realize that he’s in love. Koharu, who I image figured this out after her comment in ep 40 about Gou “becoming more and more like Ash”, notices that Gou’s been off. Prof. Sakuragi suddenly receives a big mission and informs Gou on it. Gou at first declines it since Ash isn’t here, but Koharu pipes in and volunteers to take Ash’s place. Gou’s thrown off by this, but accepts her request anyway. When asked, Koharu states that this mission interests her. The two have some small talk on the way there, leading up to Koharu asking Gou if he wants to talk about something, in which he denies. Koharu drops it for now, but picks it up later once they arrive. She eventually drives it out of him, and encourages Gou to tell Ash how he feels. After a bit more back and forth she comes up with a plan: once they get home, she’d have her dad find a local mission for him and Ash to go on alone. When Ash gets back, they go on said mission and Gou confesses to him. Flustered and annoyed, Gou agrees. They take care of the mission and head back. Ash hasn’t returned yet, giving them plenty of time to prepare.

Ep 2 (technically optional, but not rlly fdgfdh): We get Ash’s side of the story. He heads out to Pallet Town solo to visit his mom for a few days for her birthday. Prof. Oak picks him up, and they drive through the country side. Ash looks longingly back as the city skyline vanishes behind the hilltops. Pikachu comes in for a nuzzle, which cheers him up. Oak drops him off at his house, in which Ash is greeted warmly by Delia. He hands her the gift he bought her. A flashback/ mental image could play of Gou leading him through a shopping mall said gift, making sure he doesn’t get lost or distracted. Pans back to Ash letting out a small giggle, dawning the same longing expression as before. Delia asks him what’s wrong, in which Ash breaks out of his gay daze and goes back to his chipper self. He enters the house exclaiming something along the lines of his mom’s cooking, or being excited about sleeping in his own bed again. Delia is still in the doorway, shooting a concerned/curious glance at her son. The entire episode contains moments like this where Ash recalls a moment with Gou, or expresses how his wishes Gou was there, and just thinking about him in general a lot.

Side note: I believe this is the same mindset that he had when he and Gou split up in the Darkest Day Arc. The difference here being that he’s in no immediate danger, distracting him from these thoughts. Anyway, I will now continue with my rambling esdtgdf.

Ash then goes around the town, heading up to Prof. Oak’s lab. He passes by some neighbors, waving hello here and there, possibly running into Gary as well. Gary might pick up on the gayness Ash is unknowingly producing, but says nothing on the matter; maybe a chuckle before heading off. Ash reunites with all his Pokemon. Once again, he starts to think about Gou and how much he’d enjoy meeting his Pokemon. At dinner that night, Delia asks him about his recent adventures. As Ash describes them, Delia picks up on how much he’s talking about Gou. She asks how Gou’s doing, in which Ash starts going off about how many Pokemon he’s caught and how much he has improved in battling. He possibly mentions the events in ep 40, once again dawning a face of longing. Delia notices and points out how much Ash cares about him, leading into a mom-tangent about how she hopes Gou’s keeping up his promise to look after him and that Ash better be taking care of himself and not getting into too much trouble, etc. The next couple days Ash spends more time with his Pokemon; battling with them, introducing his new ones to them, and telling them stories. Prof. Oak comes out to tell him that he’s getting a call from Prof. Kukui. The Alola gang give their greetings as they chat for a bit. Kiawe brings up Gou, asking if he’s stayed true to the claims he made during their battle. Ash once again goes off about Gou, expressing stuff like how Gou technically caught Eternatus, along with the whole Zacian and Zamazenta thing. The ep ends with Ash saying goodbye to his mom and heading back to the city. On the car ride, he makes claims of excitement over going back to the lab. They arrive at the bottom of the lab near the steps. Prof. Oak drops Ash off and says goodbye before heading back to Pallet. Ash enthusiastically runs up the stairs and slams open the door to the main lab area. He’s greeted by Prof. Sakuragi along with the lab staff.

Ep 3: Ep 3 picks up right off from the last ep. After saying hello to the Prof. and the staff, Ash quickly asks where Gou is. The Prof. informs him that Gou’s with the Pokemon, then proceeds to stop Ash as he instantly tries to run off. The Prof. explains to Ash the mission that Koharu had him find, stating that it’s heavily preferred if they could address it as soon as possible. THEN Ash runs off. We cut to Gou and Koharu in the Pokemon garden area (idk what that place is technically called). Koharu is reassuring Gou while they feed the Pokemon their morning meal. Ash soon comes running in, spots them, and waves them down. He mentions the mission and the two just about leave before Koharu stops them and goes inside to get something. She comes back out with a picnic basket, stating that they’ll be gone most of the day and they need to eat. She gives Gou a smug look. He blushes in both an embarrassed and flustered manner. We then get a couple scenes of them traveling out of the city and into the hillside. These would be similar scenes as in ep 46 where they’re traveling on the island, creating silly and gay moments in the process. Gou would naturally be very nervous and easily flustered. This catches Ash’s attention, harboring some concern on his end. Ash therefore becomes visibly more protective. The two eventually reach a clearing, an area they instantly recognize. They find themselves standing in a field of vibrant flowers, the same area that Lugia had dropped them off when they first met. Ash takes the picnic basket from Gou, stating that this was good a place as any for lunch. They setup the picnic that Koharu had put together, or at least, the best that these two idiots could manage on their own. Ash starts going in on the sandwiches that were packed. A flashback plays of Koharu suggesting that Gou should confess when they stopped for lunch. They release their Pokemon to wonder about as they eat; Lucario and Cinderace join them at the picnic. Cinderace (who’s in on this) notices how nervous Gou is and goes in for a hug to reassure him. He returns the hug and whispers a very quiet “thank you”. After letting go, Cinderace would motion for Lucario to follow. The two Pokemon walk out into the forest, leaving Ash and Gou alone. Gou asks him about his trip to try and ease into a conversation. Ash would briefly tell him about it, and ends stating that he’ll take Gou along with him next time. At that, he stares caringly into Gou’s eyes, dawning a smile. Gou then starts the beginning of a sentence, starting to heavily blush similarly to how he did at the end of ep 3. His words begin to stutter and his hands start to stim nervously. He finally gets it out, confessing his feelings. Ash is clearly taken aback, but not in a bad way. Then a wave of realization washes over him. He laughs softly under his breath, having a similar reaction as THAT scene in ep.40 where the clouds clear away from behind Gou, you know what I mean. Still paralleling that scene, Ash makes a similar statement along the lines of, “I really am an idiot, aren’t I? I mean, it took you telling me that for me to even realize that I have feelings for you,”. Something like that. Gou, who has been a mess this whole time, freezes at this and looks up at Ash. After a few moments of eye contact, they both burst into laughter over how big of a dumbass they each are. They calm down, Gou gently grabs onto Ash’s hand, and goes in for a quick and nervous pec on the lips. Ash doesn’t expect this, but accepts it happily; he gives Gou a big, caring smile of reassurance. Cinderace comes bolting in, tackling Gou to the ground in a big, prideful hug. Lucario walks in from behind them, giving Ash a sly little grin. A montage plays of them finishing up the mission, displaying their new habit of frequently holding hands and overall being very adorable. We then cut to the lab. It’s going on to twilight, and Koharu’s just getting home from school. She walks in and puts her stuff down before exclaiming how Ash and Gou aren’t back yet. Not having the chance to do so until now, Prof. Sakuragi asks her what this whole arranged mission thing was about anyways. Shortly after a quick explanation, Wanpachi/Yamper is heard barking outside the front door. Koharu jolts up, telling everyone to stay calm and to be supportive. The two boys walk through the door with a noisy Wanpachi barking and running around their legs. The first thing Koharu notices is the fact that their hands are intertwined. Glancing up, she’s met with a grinning Ash and a very exhausted but very happy Gou; he looks as if he could burst out crying at any moment. She lets out a sigh of relief, stating that she had told him he had nothing to worry about. The staff and Prof. start clapping and cheering in congratulations. The narrator starts talking, stating something along the lines of “they became boyfriends” as the show freezeframes on Ash giving Gou a kiss on the cheek. AND THERE THAT IS. I apologize once again for the poorly written fanfic this became.

#satogou #firstfriendshipping #journeyshipping #ash x gou #pokeani #pokemon #I'VE BEEN WRITING NON STOP FOR HOURS #I am an actual disaster #I'm so sorry for how messy this is #AAAAA #I swear to god I can actually write #This isn't one of those times where I can actually write

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imagining-in-the-margins · 5 years

Text

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 4 | S.R.)

Summary: Spencer and Reader go on their first date. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW 18+) Content Warning: Adults w/ Age Gap (10yr), exhibitionism, masturbation, fingering, spanking, penetrative sex, Prof/Student fantasy Word Count: 8.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

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When I was younger, I hated going to museums. Granted, I'd only ever really had the opportunity to go during school field trips. The crackling, barely coherent ramblings of a stranger through a loudspeaker had never been my idea of fun.

In fact, I'd been to that exact museum before. But the present time was a little different. That time, I was enthralled with the objects on the other side of the glass. With wide eyes and childlike wonder revived, I was hanging on every word out of Spencer's mouth.

I knew the guy was probably a genius, but I had no idea how much of a genius he was until he was recounting the entire history of civilization like he'd been reading straight from an encyclopedia. He looked like a hilarious mix of proud and embarrassed when he finally admitted his IQ. Meanwhile, I had to admit that I not only had no fuckin' clue what my IQ was, I was certain it was significantly lower than his.

He didn't seem to mind.

In a way, I thought it was strange when he told me he wanted to bring me to a place like that. After all, I'd told him I wanted to learn more about him. I figured a museum would teach me about everything else, not him.

But seeing him in this environment told me more about him than I ever could have imagined. I learned about his avid love for the most trivial facts, the way his inflection changed when he got excited, and that despite reading probably hundreds of thousands of books, his hunger for knowledge was still very much alive and well.

Most of all, I learned that Spencer Reid was unlike any man I'd ever seen before.

It was a bad idea. Because when we finally made our way out of the final exhibit, I didn't want to leave. Not even close. If you'd told my mother I spent several hours in a museum and didn't want to leave, she'd never believe you.

"Hey, so..." I started, pausing outside the gift shop on our way out. "It's almost 5. Did you want to grab dinner before we head back? I have worked up quite the appetite listening to you for the past 4 hours."

"Has it really been that long?" he asked incredulously before glancing down at his watch wrapped over his shirt.

I tried very hard, and failed, to suppress a giggle at the habit.

"I'm honestly surprised you still have spit left in your mouth," I joked as I swayed closer to him, almost enough to touch him.

"Ha ha, very funny," he replied. A slight pout formed on his face. I almost enjoyed the swapped roles; it wasn't often that he was the one who looked so forlorn.

"Come on, I'm joking!" I laughed before slipping my arm around his and pulling him closer to me.

Spencer glanced down in surprise, staring at my chest that was now fully pressed against his arm. Although, the way he looked at me was nothing compared to the response he'd given after I showed up in a pleated skirt that better belonged on a Catholic schoolgirl.

But I mean, like I'd said, I used to go there on school trips. It was only fair.

"I love listening to you talk, Spencer. You know that."

The speed with which he looked away when I finished talking was enough to tell me that I had said the wrong thing. His goofy, playful demeanor vanished so quickly, I'd almost gotten whiplash. He didn't remove his arm, instead clearing his throat and pulling out a brochure from his pocket to look at nearby places to eat.

A bit reserved, he asked if I was interested in one of the closer casual restaurants, to which I agreed. At that point, I removed myself from his side and was only a little surprised to see the way his body immediately relaxed.

I wanted to believe he just didn't like to be touched, which I was certain was true, but he was behaving differently with me than he had before. We'd touched in public before, a lot more than that, and we'd known each other a lot less!

But of course, that was probably why. The closer we got, the farther away he felt.

The walk to the restaurant was slightly awkward, so after a moment I decided to break the silence.

"You said you grew up in Vegas, right?"

"Yeah, until I moved to go to school," he explained, looking around at the surroundings of the D.C. crowds winding down rather than turning his attention back to me.

At least I was finally learning more about him.

"Where did you go?"

"Caltech."

He was keeping his answers short, but I feel like he might still be a little embarrassed at my little jab at the museum. That was fine, I knew ways to make him talk. I clasped my hands behind me as I walked by his side, still tempted to touch him somehow, however ill advised.

"Was it hard being away from your family? That's a few hours away, isn't it?"

He laughed awkwardly, a sure sign that I'd forgotten that him and I come from different worlds.

"Well, I was barely 13, so... My mom was kind of legally obligated to follow me."

He was so cute, and he definitely wasn't aware of it.

"Right, sorry, forgot about the genius thing for a minute. Don't know how."

The smile he returned was genuine, which helped my guilt for bothering him yet again. But in my defense, it was easy to do when he was a literal genius and I was barely scraping by half the time.

As we arrived, we were seated in a booth near the back of the restaurant. I offered him the booth with a view of the door because I'd figured he would want it. He gave me a strange side glance at my assumption, like I was hiding something from him that would grant me the knowledge that it would be more comfortable for him to be able to see the door.

I didn't want to talk about how I knew that, though.

Instead, I asked, "Do you like it here? In Virginia?"

He nodded as he flipped open the menu, speaking almost scripted answers absentmindedly, "I do, but mostly because it's been so long that everyone I know is here."

I'd already been here before, so I didn't bother looking at the menu. Naturally, he'd only required a few seconds to read it. When he made eye contact again, I spoke through my thoughts.

"You said you're a profiler for the..."

"Behavioral Analysis Unit."

His tone was a mix of pride and nerves, which immediately made me nervous.

"I haven't looked it up yet because I'm scared about what I might find. What do you guys do, exactly?"

The server brought us drinks just in time to pause his answer, which he seemed to appreciate. I figured it was either a tough job to explain, or he didn't want to share that part of his life with me just yet (or, potentially, ever).

Spencer lowered his voice like he usually did when he talked about work.

"We profile the behavior of serial killers. Sometimes for research, but mostly to assist local police in catching them."

"Oh..." I started, stopping mid-sip of my drink. It was a lot to take in at once. "So... yeah, I'm glad I didn't google it."

He scrunched his mouth in that unsure way, like he wanted to explain to me how he really felt about his job. Something in the bags under his eyes told me he hasn't talked about this in a long time. At least, not like he should. But he didn't talk about it. He looked away, opting to say nothing at all.

"Doesn't it get to you?" I pushed, trying to offer him the platform to talk about the thing that no doubt consumes most of his life.

"Does what get to me?" His voice sounded so far away.

"Spencer, when I met you, you were whisked away at the crack of dawn to go talk about serial killers. On a weekend. The second time you showed up at my place after clearly not having slept, I'm guessing straight from work..."

His eyes narrowed as I spoke, like I was talking from a tightrope that I could plummet off any second. He seemed scared that I would speak something into existence he wasn't ready to face himself.

"You're surrounded by evil all the time. You're responsible for learning, recognizing, and manipulating evil. That can't be easy."

Spencer's eyes were glazed over in a way I couldn't describe. He seemed defensive, steeled, and absolutely terrified. He wouldn't look me in the eyes, opting instead to stare down at the menu in front of him.

He shrugged as he halfheartedly concluded, "I guess that's one way to look at it. We also get to see a lot of good."

"Yeah..." I nodded solemnly, recognizing the dismissive thoughts from my own experience.

He was downplaying the great likelihood of traumatic memories he carried, as if he could will away the damage. Like it would stop existing if he could convince himself it wasn't that bad.

I wondered what had happened to him on the job for him to already have forgotten that things didn't have to be the worst possible to matter. That he still deserved better. That hurt does not require permission.

I couldn't stop myself, needing to see how he reacted when I continued, "But which do you see more of?"

I never got my answer. The server once again saved him from a conversation that got away from him. The presence of a third, impartial person shifted the mood back to what it was in the museum. I wondered how much was an act, both back then and in that moment.

Deciding it best not to dwell on the thought, I tried to forget about the darkness brewing in those coffee colored eyes. Once our orders were in, he turned his attention to the cocktail menu still laying in the middle of the table with a smile.

"I'm almost surprised you didn't try to order alcohol," he half-joked.

I leaned forward on the table, bringing a hand up to my mouth and whispering, "I heard there might be an undercover fed here, so, never can be too safe."

The bubbly, childish laugh that followed renewed my faith in him. He had that kind of infectious laugh that made you forget that badness existed at all. Once our ruckus had died down, he looked at me with the softness that had drawn me to him in the first place.

"You're cute."

When the words registered in my mind, I couldn't believe I'd heard them. The way his expression changed shortly after the words left his mouth told me he hadn't meant to say them aloud. But their effect on me was not at all stifled by his momentary lapse in judgment.

I'd wondered if it was getting hotter in the building, or if it was just my nerves getting the best of me. But it wasn't bothering Spencer, who was about to down yet another cup of coffee in front of him. I cleared my throat, trying to not look like a schoolgirl whose crush had just checked 'yes' on a note asking if he liked me.

Pointing to the mug in front of him, I joked, "How do you sleep?"

"Honestly? I usually don't."

That was the goofy overly literal dork I wanted to see more of.

"I can think of one way to wear you out," I suggested, lifting my leg to press the top of my foot against his leg under the booth.

He raised his eyebrows, giving a simple glance down to acknowledge the contact. Then his eyes were back on me, staring deeply with a hunger that would not be satisfied by whatever dish they brought out to us.

"I can think of several."

Humming cheerfully, I continued to run my foot up and down his leg. My cheeks flushed with my growing desire that I'd managed to put off for several hours. I was honestly shocked that I'd spent the whole day with this man, and only then thought about sleeping with him.

"It's too bad we can't," I pouted. "My roommate is back in town. Not sure she'd appreciate all the noise."

That time as my foot drew up his leg, he shifted in his seat so that his legs moved closer to me, extending the contact for a few seconds longer.

"Not to mention, I don't think you'd like to deal with several 20-year-olds."

The way he behaved whenever I pointed out my age was endlessly entertaining. That time, though, he seemed significantly less bothered.

"One is already borderline for me," he teased back.

I gasped, clutching at my chest as I batted my eyelashes just dramatically enough to showcase my pride.

"You flatter me, Dr. Reid."

He almost choked on his coffee as he stifled a chuckle, putting it down as he shook his head.

"Only you would take that as a compliment."

Recognizing this repartee as the foreplay it had always accompanied, I leaned forward on my elbows towards him. He immediately mirrored the movement, putting our faces much closer to each other than they'd been all day.

"What can I say? I enjoy being a challenge."

"Yes, you do." He hadn't even thought about it, responding almost instantaneously, suggesting once more that he could actually read my mind.

"How are you so good at that?" I kept the question vague on purpose.

He didn't fall for it.

"I'm good at a lot of things. Which are you referring to?"

What a cocky bastard. A very handsome, ridiculously sexy, dork of a bastard.

But he wasn't the only one at the table that knew how to get someone hot and bothered.

"Your humility is my favorite part, Dr. Reid." I stuck my tongue out at the end of the sentiment, a cheeky grin that reflected on him just as quickly.

"Quoting me? That's bold."

Deciding it had been too long since I had touched him, I lifted my hand to press a single finger against his chest as I taunted, "You aren't the only person with a good memory."

He leaned back at this point, backing away from my finger and the heated exchange.

"I don't have a good memory. I have an eidetic memory."

He had been very proud of that fact earlier when I asked him why the hell he was able to list off every single word from a museum display we'd seen an hour earlier. I'd asked him if it was the same as a photographic memory, and he'd gone on a rant about the pejorative connotations of the term. I wasn't going to go down that rabbit hole again today.

Instead, I took the same hand that had touched him moments before, curling all but one finger into a fist.

"So you'll be able to remember this forever?" I cooed as I held up my middle finger.

"I'll just file that away with the most important memories, like birthdays and the works of Arthur Conan Doyle," he sighed in response, graciously admitting defeat.

I was not brave enough to tell him I had no idea who that was, but I was sure I'd learn one day. That one, I thought, was probably safe to google. While he filed away my crude gesture, I filed away yet another fun fact to surprise him with later.

"You are, by far, the most interesting person I've ever met," I implored, to which he immediately shot back, "I could say the same about you. And I regularly talk to serial killers."

Touché, Dr. Reid.

"I'm flattered," was the last word I got in edgewise before our food arrived.

The rest of our time in the restaurant went very similarly, with teasing comments that built the sexual tension that was already too big for this tiny room. Our legs never stopped touching throughout the entire meal. Maybe that was why, when it was finally time to leave, we both felt a strange mixture of excited and sad. Once we were no longer behind the booth, it was back to pretending like we weren't constantly trying not to pounce on the other.

The walk to the metro was equal parts long and tense. At one point I'd swayed closer to him than I intended, and our sides brushed up against one another. Unlike before in the museum, he hadn't moved away. I couldn't believe something so minuscule could made me so happy.

The metro was more crowded than I'd anticipated. The fact that the station is underground was usually enough to make me feel a little claustrophobic, but the number of people bustling around me felt especially overwhelming. I couldn't help but chastise myself for having worn a skirt, considering the stark number of perverted men in places like these.

Spencer's touch woke me from my reverie. His arm had wrapped around my lower back with such unassuming delicacy, I'd hardly registered it at first. He was looking down at me with concern covering his features as he asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, sorry, there's a lot of people here."

I had one hand holding my skirt down against my leg, the other crossed over my chest.

"Makes me nervous," I further explained.

"Can I help?"

Even though he was offering, I could tell the crowds bothered him just as much. Thankfully, his presence was enough for me.

"You already are."

There was something so calming about his presence that was hard to explain. It wasn't his ability to physically protect me, considering he didn't have his weapon with him most of the time I was with him. It wasn't his emotional availability (or lack thereof). It was more like he exuded some chemical that made me docile. It was hard to explain.

I just liked him, okay?

When our train pulled in it was relatively crowded, but we managed to grab two seats near the back of a car. I sighed in relief as I plopped down into the plastic chair, happy to finally be able to rest my legs.

With Spencer on the aisle seat and us on our way back to Franconia Springfield Station, I let myself relax. My head dropped down onto his shoulder without much thought, and my entire body slumped over with it.

"How am I supposed to stay awake for this when you're so comfy?" I mumbled, looking down at the hem of my pleated skirt as I fiddled with it.

"That certainly sounds like quite the predicament," he said in what I assume was jest.

He sat up, bumping my head off his shoulder for a moment. I interpreted it to be a subtle way of telling me not to do it, but once he had shrugged off his cardigan, he looked at me like he was confused I hadn't resumed the position.

Armed with a simper, I cuddled up even closer this time, wrapping my arms around his and resting my cheek against his shoulder. I wasn't sure why he had gotten so open to touch, but I wasn't going to complain.

He didn't say anything when he draped his cardigan over my lap, covering my knees peeking out from under my skirt. A nice gesture, I thought as my body instinctively gravitated towards him. It wasn't until I closed my eyes that the pieces started to come together.

I was on the metro, in a skirt, with Spencer Reid's hand slowly but surely inching up my thigh.

My eyes shot open, and I tensed my grip around his arm. It was the only thing I did to betray my otherwise composed and unassuming position.

His breath was hot on my ear as he leaned over to me and began to whisper, "Do you know the idea that people fall asleep after sex is less true for women than men? Many speculate it's because women are just neglected in bed, but that's not quite it."

I didn't dare respond, hardly trusting myself to breathe as his hand continued to move closer to me.

"Both sexes do release the same chemicals during orgasm. Oxytocin to stimulate smooth muscle contraction and initiate the need to bond, prolactin to relieve arousal and signal satiation, and the leftover gamma aminobutyric acid, dopamine, and serotonin..."

I couldn't understand how he'd managed to make the lecture sound sexy, but I was too lost in the sound of his voice to bother thinking about it then.

"Still, women are less likely to fall asleep. Sure, they typically exert less physical energy during sex, but what about those women like you with a penchant for going for a ride?"

A woozy, lovesick smile spread across my face at the reference to our first encounter.

"Those women might still stay awake for longer and may actually be more invigorated after reaching climax. And it's all thanks to their naturally lessened refractory period."

I nodded dumbly, gasping lightly once I felt his fingers make contact through the flimsy cotton of my underwear.

"Which might sound like a curse. But it's not. It means that those lucky women can reach multiple orgasms in succession. Some partners just aren't willing to put in that kind of effort," he continued, tracing a finger up and down my folds through the fabric.

"But I'm not one of them."

His words were strong, and I buried my face into his shoulder, trying not to alert the entire car what was happening underneath his cardigan.

"I would much rather watch you come undone. Again, and again, and again. I want to make sure that when I'm done with you, you can't keep your eyes open."

My breath was getting quicker, and I let out a small squeak against his shirt as he pressed down on the bundle of nerves at my center, drawing circles around it.

"That being said, if you need something to keep you awake, I do have a solution. But if you make a single noise, I will stop."

I had to bite down hard on my bottom lip to prevent any noise from slipping out. My legs were wavering between opening and closing as I tried to keep them apart. I could feel how damp I was getting. My hips were moving with a mind of their own, rocking toward his hand. It took all of my concentration not to give us away.

I choked on my breath as a sly finger snuck into the side of my underwear, allowing entrance to the others that followed.

"Shhh," he hushed, pressing a soft kiss on the top of my head. Underneath my skirt, though, he was much less chaste. Slipping two fingers into my heat, I could have sworn I heard him laugh from above me.

I didn't dare look at him, nervous that the moment I did, I would lose all control.

"I had no idea it would be so easy to get you to follow directions. Are you that worried you might get caught?"

He could feel my heartbeat against his arm. He must have been able to, because I was suffocating against his arm. My hands clenched around him like he was the only lifeline in an ocean of pleasure.

"Imagine what they would think if they knew what you let me do to you. What you beg me to do to you."

My legs were beginning to tremble around him as he stroked me from the inside. All I could feel was him. His hands, his breath, his words.

"Is that why you wore this skirt? A naughty little schoolgirl fantasizing about an older man touching you like this?"

He quickened the pace of thrusting into me, his words getting more insistent as the train was almost empty now, closing in on our stop.

"Is it everything you thought it would be? No. Can't be. You wish there was something else of mine in between your legs."

I couldn't explain how, but my climax snuck up on me. When it happened, it smashed into me like a wave crashing onto the shore. I gasped for breath against his arm, and he thankfully took mercy on me. Despite definitely making a noise, he continued his motions, palming at the crest of my folds to give me one last boost of stimulation.

I shook around him, my thighs tightening onto his arm as I finally found release. I could hear the announcement calling for our station, but it felt worlds away. Still, Spencer pulled his hand out from underneath our pile of clothes, wiping the evidence of our escapade against the inside of my skirt before also removing his arm from underneath my tight grip.

"Son of a bitch," I puffed, relaxing all my muscles at once as I tried to retain control over my pulse. I could barely think straight.

"You're welcome," he beamed, as if he hadn't just gone full dominant as he finger fucked me on the metro.

I didn't understand how the hell he expected me to get up and walk off like nothing happene, but somehow, I managed. I stood with wobbly legs and a flustered state of mind until he linked his arm with mine and led me off the car and into the station. I clung to the assistance, grateful that he was once again taking pity on me.

However, it felt like it wouldn't last long. Once we'd gotten to his car, he helped me in before climbing into the driver's seat. It was silent for a moment, like he wanted me to ask him a question that I wasn't willing to ask.

I didn't want the night to be over, but if he asked me if I was ready to go home, I'd have to say yes. After all, it wasn't proper form to invite myself to his apartment. Especially with how weird he got whenever I got close to him.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

The pity was gone.

I didn't think before I spoke, immediately responding as a joke, "Not unless it's yours."

The silence was back.

Oops.

I realized that I'd spoken out loud at the same time he delivered his response; I was going to stop him, but he was too quick.

"My place it is, then."

I couldn't help but smile, my cheeks burning as I asked quietly, like my volume might change his mind, "Really?"

"Sure, why not?"

I didn't have an answer. We didn't talk for a moment, enjoying the contented silence as I texted my roommate to tell her that I was going to be late home, if I came at all. I was hoping for the latter. Once that was sent off, I returned my gaze to the man paying almost full attention to the road.

"You know, I have to get you back for what you did back there."

He smirked, not breaking away from the road as he replied, "I did you a favor."

"A cruel favor," I whined, turning in my chair as I buckled my seat belt so I could get closer to him.

"No such thing," he corrected, although I think we both knew there very well could be such a thing.

"Uh-huh."

I watched him for a moment, trying to decide the best way to get back at him. I could always try the most relevant payback...

He didn't even notice my hand reaching out until it was already sliding up his thigh at a rapid pace.

"What are you doing?" he asked, as if it weren't already obvious.

"Getting you back," I snickered as I finally made it up his leg, palming the quickly forming erection under his pants.

"I'm driving!" His voice was so high pitched it was heartwarming. It was like our roles had switched, even just for a second.

"I'm not stopping you from driving!"

Obviously trying to compose himself, he grabbed my wrist and held it in the air and out of reach of him.

"Unless you want to crash this car, you'd better wait until we get back to my place."

It was a valid warning, but not one I wanted to hear.

"Spoil sport."

"At least you're alive!"

It was back to the sexual tension from before in the restaurant. I wanted to touch him, and I was guessing based on the visible tent in his pants, he wanted me. So, I got to thinking, and I figured that if I wasn't allowed to touch him, that only left one other person.

"... What are you doing?"

It was a valid question. He'd glanced over to see my hand traveling up my own skirt as I parted my legs just enough to maneuver beneath my underwear.

"Nothing," I hummed, now looking at him with half-lidded eyes as I rocked forward onto my hand.

"That's cruel." He sounded so devastated to see that I was doing what he couldn't, despite the fact he had his hand in this exact spot not that long ago.

My fingers dipped between my folds, collecting the remnants of the orgasm he had given me as I crooned, "What? You said I couldn't touch you while you're driving. I'm not touching you. You're welcome."

I opened my eyes just enough to see the way he tightened his grip on the steering wheel while trying not to look at me. Couldn't drive distracted. That was the entire reason why I was touching myself and not him.

"Unless, of course, you do consider this part of me as your property. In which case, I'm not going to stop, anyway," I snickered.

Rewarding myself with a soft moan, I tried to prolong the experience the best I could. It was hard when every couple of seconds he would look over at me. I hadn't thought that I would find his anger that attractive, but there I was, coming apart at the seams already based on nothing but a look.

He was thoroughly unamused, which only egged me on, honestly. I didn't care if I was being overdramatic as I touched myself, I wanted him to think about what he was missing. Which was why I didn't stop myself from moaning. Pants and gasps echoed throughout the car as I picked up my pace.

"I hope you're ready for the consequences of this very poorly thought out decision."

On the contrary, Spencer. I had very clearly thought it through. I was thinking it so clearly I could picture his hands where mine were, among other parts of him.

Thinking about how to dig an even deeper hole for myself, I found the perfect mechanism.

"Mmm, Professor Reid," I cried, recognizing that it would either infuriate him or bring him a great sense of pride. I was fine with either.

I closed my eyes so I could better envision the fantasy that was actually just a memory. For now. With my eyes closed, I couldn't tell much of what was going on outside of my touch, trying to ignore the man beside me as best as I could. I wanted him to suffer.

Spencer, however, had other plans. With both eyes still on the road, his hand had found its way to my legs, where it shot up to join mine. He removed my hand quickly and replaced it with his own.

There was no subtlety or warm up this time. Without any hesitation, he dipped a finger into my heat just to remove it and begin rubbing harsh circles over my clit. I couldn't stop the yell that resulted, and seconds later I came undone against him.

As soon as the spasming stopped, he removed his hand, not speaking a word or even looking at me. I'd realized at that point that he'd only finished me off because he hadn't wanted to grant me the satisfaction of doing it myself. He was asserting that yes, in some sense, he viewed this as a part of his property.

I was oddly okay with that.

"Is the silent treatment my punishment?" I asked with a pout after a few moments of nothing.

He laughed bitterly back, finally looking at me for a moment before vaguely replying, "No. Your punishment will be much more fun for me."

I had to admit the implication that the silent treatment wasn't fun for him was flattering, at least. I was glad to hear that he enjoyed talking to me as much as I enjoyed listening to him talk.

But for the moment, I was sort of exhausted. Not in the way that would make me fall asleep, but in the I-just-had-two-orgasms-let-me-recoup way. Even though we enjoyed talking, those moments were refreshing in their own way. The best kind of connections were the ones that could always be maintained, even in the quiet.

Despite it not being my punishment, Spencer remained fairly quiet the rest of the way home. I wondered if part of that was due to him brewing a plan for what would happen when we got there.

God, I hoped so.

As we pulled up to the nondescript building, I had to admit I was a bit disappointed to find Spencer didn't live in some whimsical fantasy like I'd always envisioned. The building looked like every other one. But, at the same time, I couldn't want to see the inside. If I had to bet, there would be a lot of books and a stark lack of computers.

Walking into Apt #23, I was only a little surprised by what I saw. The warm green tones of his walls were complimented by red and brown accents, and my theory was quickly proven correct.

"Whoa," I mumbled under my breath, "It's like a library."

"You must go to some pretty small libraries, then."

I rolled my eyes. Like his usual attempts at humility, Spencer failed horribly.

I spun around on my heels to face him, but at the same time as I heard the lock flip into place, I felt his hand around my arm. Spencer's movements were quick as he gripped tightly on my wrist and pulled me towards what I could only assume was his bedroom.

Weirdly, I was still trying to take in my surroundings rather than focus on fucking him. It made sense, I figured. I had already experienced two orgasms today, whereas he had none.

Oops. Guess I really was a spoiled brat.

But seriously—I was in his apartment! I wanted to snoop, dammit!

Spencer wasn't going to give me an opportunity, though. He'd even made a point of shutting the door to his room once we were inside. Something told me he would keep a close eye on me as long as he could. That was probably deserved, considering that within the first few hours of interacting with him, I had answered a call from his boss.

In my defense, it had been fucking hilarious.

He led me to stand in front of him, and out of instinct and habit, I moved forward to kiss him. I never made it to his lips, though. Spencer pushed me aside toward the bed, and I laughed as I leaned over it, making a point of flipping up the back of my skirt.

"I've been bad, Professor," I giggled, turning to glance back at him from the position I had happily assumed without being told.

He had that dark fire in his eyes that usually came before a storm.

He looked like he was ready to break me. I was ready to be broken.

"Are you going to teach me another biology lesson?"

When his hands touched me, they were as tender as ever. He caressed my hips where I had turned the skirt up, hooking his fingers around the waistband of the underwear and casually removing them.

"No, I'm afraid not."

He sounded delighted despite the words he spoke.

"This will be a very different kind of lesson."

Oh, I realized all at once.

"A lesson in discipline?" I inquired, swaying my hips underneath his hands and waiting for confirmation.

The loss of his hand on one side caused anticipation to build. I could hear the sound of blood rushing in my ears.

It was hard to tell which happened first. Instantaneously, his hand came down hard on the soft skin of my backside as he responded, "Yes."

The adrenaline that coursed through my veins in response shook any feelings of fatigue I might have sustained throughout the day. I welcomed his body heat against my back as he leaned forward against me, and used his weight to press me down into his bed.

"Unless you've changed your mind."

"No!" I shouted back much too forcefully before gripping onto the sheets in front of me. "I deserve to be punished, Professor Reid."

He withdrew from me and, within seconds, brought his hand down on me again, that time striking the other side. The snapping sound of the contact was enough to elicit a response. I clamped my legs together and gave a soft mewl. Appreciating my vocal response, the next two hits came in rapid succession. I could feel the warmth building in the skin, the breeze from the motions acted as a buffer for the delicious sting.

He roughly grabbed both cheeks in front of him, for no reason other than wanting to. I groaned at the sensation of the tender flesh being handled, which only led him to release one to smack it once more. He followed with the other, appreciating the balance required of this particular punishment. I wasn't going to stop him. I was happy to continue. But something told me that he was breaching the point of comfort in his own conscience.

He was always so worried he would break me. I couldn't say it wasn't endearing. That didn't stop him from giving each side one more forceful blow, however, which earned him a mangled cry from deep in my chest. His body was against mine again, one of his hands reaching around to tilt my head up, despite not being able to see him. I was beginning to think he just enjoyed manipulating my body at will. To see how far I would let him.

"I think you're starting to get it, (y/n)."

"Yes," I responded, not caring if it didn't make much sense in response.

Despite the fact he'd already finished me twice today, I somehow already wanted him again. Maybe it was the allure of finally being able to fuck him in his own bed, or maybe it was the desire to see him fall apart as a reminder that I'm not the only one desperate for the other's touch.

So quickly he returned to the gentle, barely there traces along my skin.

"Punishment looks good on you," he praised, and something about the way he said it filled me with pride.

"You look good on me, too, sir," I slurred as he continued to draw feathery markings on the abused skin. He chuckled, finally moving up along my back before I interrupted his thoughts and appreciation once more.

"Fuck me," I begged. I wanted him and didn't care how I got it. "Let me help you feel good."

The hands that had inflicted pain moments ago were now gently massaging my shoulders through my top. I sighed, relaxing further into his touch. So easily I had become complacent to his desire. I let him do whatever he wanted, trusting that he would never do anything to truly, honestly hurt me.

"Something tells me you're more interested in making yourself feel good," he asserted — quite correctly.

"Can't we have both?"

His silence told me he was considering my words. I knew that he didn't want to, since that would ruin the whole idea that this was a punishment in the first place. Then again, I didn't think he was fully committed to that idea anyway.

Dragging his hands once more down the plane of my back, he stopped to grip my hips and shift me backwards until I was pressed against him.

"You're lucky you look so fucking cute in that skirt," he growled.

I felt dizzy again already, drowning in the way his bed smelled like him.

"Mmm, I wore it just for you," I admitted, rubbing myself gently against his crotch now pressing into my bottom.

"Smart girl," he responded.

It felt like I was in a dream, to be there with him like that. For a long time, I'd thought I'd never see him again, let alone be laying on his bed.

I could hear him stripping behind me, and I peeked over my shoulder with a modest smile.

Time was not moving fast enough, I thought, but it was also moving too fast. Because as badly as I wanted him to ravish me, I was afraid what would happen when it was over.

I couldn't think about that in that moment, though.

Once he reached into his nightstand, I giggled with anticipation. He raised his eyebrows at me, unable to contain his own laughter.

"Oh, you're happy with yourself, huh?"

"A little bit, yeah."

When he returned to me, his hands were still gentle as they pushed my skirt back up where it had fallen. He revealed my body to himself, and I didn't have to be able to see it to know that my arousal spread down my inner thighs. I had, after all, already had two orgasms before now thanks to the man behind me.

"I'm also pretty happy with you," he whispered as he leaned over me.

With no warning, he fully entered me with one swift thrust. I whimpered at the feeling of him hitting against angered skin, mixed with the pleasure of being full once again. I clutched at the sheets and wished that they were him, wishing that I could somehow be even closer to him than I already was.

"We'll see if you still feel like smiling after I'm done with you."

It was the last thing he said before he began to ruthlessly pound into me. I struggled to scream as loudly as I wanted to, but I couldn't make any noise at all. My body seemed to have relented all control to him within seconds; I didn't put up a single battle. Although his grasp held me in place, I still attempted to cant my hips forward to allow him better access.

My chest and face were warm with friction from rubbing against the bed, and my knuckles were blanched from the force exerted to try and remain grounded. Each movement seemed so purposeful, much like the way he thrashed at my skin with his hand.

"Fuck me," were the first words I managed to string together.

With one forceful thrust, he held me down on him as all the moans I couldn't make previously came pouring out of me. I thought I might actually cry from how overstimulated the day was becoming. Seemingly reading my mind, Spencer pulled out of me entirely. I tried to reorient myself, but he stopped me. Using one hand to grab hold of my arm, he flipped me onto my back beneath him.

I hadn't even realized I was still wearing basically all of my clothes until he had to force my skirt back up again. Missing him between my legs, I began to crave him everywhere else, too. I struggled to pull my shirt over my head.

Spencer didn't stop me, just watching while he playfully rubbed his arousal at my entrance.

"Please, sir," I pleaded once I was finally able to lift my legs. I wrapped them around his hips and pulled him closer to me without letting him slip into me just yet.

"Just as impatient and needy as ever, (y/n)."

I chewed on my bottom lip, looking up at him with the puppy dog eyes that had always worked on him up to that point. It must have worked again, because he was sinking back into me before I knew it. My arms spread out across the bed, holding onto whatever I could reach as he set another brutal pace.

Our bodies melding together in a chaotic fusion of skin and fluids, I let myself get lost in the bliss of Spencer Reid laying claim to my body. I threw my head back, my eyes clamped shut as one of his hands came up to caress one of my breasts through my lacy bra.

"With undergarments like this, I have to wonder if you planned this all, young lady," he teased, no doubt referring to the matching underwear now discarded on the floor.

I opened my eyes to meet his, and for a second I was left breathless at the sight of him pumping into me. How I managed to say anything at all is a miracle.

"Never a plan, sir. But always a pleasure."

A flirtatious sparkle in his eyes, he slowed down as he pressed, "Did you wear them for someone else, then?"

The way I arched my back caused him to push even further into me, and I had to pause to moan before I continued.

"Are you jealous?"

His hips snapped forward, producing a simultaneously jolt of pain and pleasure. His voice was breathy as he tried to hold himself together while speaking, "Should I be?"

Our eye contact caused tension so powerful that I was certain it was palpable. A devilish grin and a bit of a snicker was the provocation he needed to drive into me harder once again. I didn't even try to suppress the noises he elicited from me, tightening my grip around him with my legs.

"Take me," I whispered under my breath, almost hoping that he wouldn't hear me.

I couldn't tell if he did, but his hand switched sides of my chest, and our faces grew closer together.

"I'm yours," I slurred. I truthfully hadn't thought about the words when I gifted them to him, but he clearly took note of them. That time, it was his moan that filled the air in the room, and I had never felt so excited by one of his responses. I chased after the feeling, locking eyes with him as both his hands grabbed my hips to begin the race to the finish.

"I'm yours, Spencer."

I didn't stop to wonder if I could play this off as part of the fantasy. I mean, it was part of my fantasy; the fantasy of being his, and him being mine.

He didn't object to my words then, either, and he had definitely heard me that time.

I smiled, barely noticing that he'd placed his fingers back on my heat, swiping frantically at my clit until I lost all composure underneath him. My hips rocked at no apparent rhythm, and distorted versions of his name broke through my mouth.

I hadn't even come down yet when he rammed into me with full force, bottoming out once again. I felt his cock twitch inside of me, followed by my muscles pulling everything out of him that they could.

The view of his satisfied face through my lust-filled daze was angelic. It appeared that he saw the same in me, but I couldn't be sure. Just as quickly as the moment had come, it had passed, his arms giving in to his weight as he collapsed onto my chest.

His hair tickled my collarbones, and I laughed at how incredibly out of shape he was. Especially for an FBI Agent. Even if he did go on the field often, I figured the resident dork didn't need to be totally ripped, anyway.

And, hey, he was strong enough to treat me like a ragdoll, so who was I to judge?

"Tired?" I asked, taking a shaky hand to his head, playing with the soft brown curls damp from sweat.

"You aren't?" he slurred, his words smothered against my skin.

"I am fucking exhausted."

That time, we both laughed. He was clearly pleased that, despite any perceived weakness, he was still able to thoroughly wear me out. When he moved to leave me, I dropped my legs. I was surprised I had managed to hold them until then, honestly.

He fixed his hair that had fallen in his eyes first, and I smiled at the peculiar priority. It was cute, though.

"Do you have to take me home?"

I tried not to let the disappointment bleed into my voice, but it did. He tried not to notice. He didn't answer as he cleaned himself up, and I sat up to look at him — once the world stopped spinning, anyway.

"No."

The butterflies spiraled out of control, spreading through every inch of my soul. I must have been beaming, because he looked so very nervous.

"Thanks."

His response came in the form of an unsure smile, followed by a genuine appreciation.

I briefly wondered if he realized just how transparent he was, but then decided I didn't want to think about it. I excused myself to clean up before bed, taking a long moment to rub my skin with aloe from under the cabinet, only to realize that I had basically nothing clean to wear. I rolled my eyes at the situation, wondering how many red flags it would set off for me to ask Spencer for some of his clothes.

I could just be naked. He seemed to like me that way.

I padded back into the room, expecting him to be waiting up for me. He wasn't. Spencer had passed out on the bed before he even had a chance to get under the covers. I stood at the door for a moment, trying to appreciate the value of this quiet moment while I still could.

Stripping off my clothes as quiet as possible, I was careful not to wake him. However, that also meant I couldn't climb under the covers, either.

It isn't exactly snooping if I'm looking for something innocent, right? That's what I had to tell myself, regardless. Because I was not going to freeze my ass off over a hookup's paranoia. Glancing at the dresser, I almost convinced myself it wouldn't be an invasion of privacy to open it. Luckily, I didn't have to. Directly next to it was a hamper of clean, folded laundry, with a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt on top. While disappointed that I had lost my excuse, I was grateful I had stripped myself of the choice.

He deserved better than me trying to pry into his life like that.

Slipping into his clothes, I stopped to hug myself in the soft fabric. With him asleep, I felt comfortable taking a moment to revel in the position he'd allowed me to exist in. I was in his apartment, in his clothes, and I would soon be back in his arms.

For now.

I chased the inevitable end out of my thoughts, slinking onto the bed and shimmying over to him until his hands found me in his unconscious state. I faced him, my hands pressing softly against his chest to feel his heart happily working under my touch.

His eyes fluttered open for a second, just long enough to see the wonder in my own. A smile crept along his cheeks, and he wrapped a lazy arm around my waist.

I wondered if he recognized his own clothes, or if he even realized this was real. Then again, the alternative was him assuming that it'd all been a dream... and it was a pleasant one, it seemed.

"I'm happy," he confirmed in a hushed tone.

My heart almost stopped, and I peeked up at him, inching up so I could better see his face. His breathing evened back out as I felt the way he relaxed, quickly retreating back to the comfortable embrace of sleep.

"About what?" I whispered back.

Our legs twined together, and a soft sigh left his lips. I waited with bated breath for his response, although I don't think I could have ever been prepared for what followed.

"I'm happy that you're mine."

... What?

—————————————————

| Part 5 |

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