entirely right (professorreidxreader)

𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞

TW// mentions of sexual assault/harassment
also- broksis im listening to sweater weather rn and idk if it's bc it's late and im tired of in im feeling extra gay today but it's sounding a little too good rn 🙂

—

"So, to clarify, Mr.Manning took you into his office under the guise of talking through your fight with Dr.Reid and then proceeded to harass you, and kiss you without consent?" You swallow and nod, your eyes glazed over as Dr.Collins leans forward in her chair letting out a deep sigh, "Y/N... I believe you, or at least I want to, but if all you have is a statement, there's not much I can do. Yale is a prestigious school and we try to keep a pristine image, unless you find some kind of physical evidence against Mr.Manning, I'm afraid I can't take any action. I'm sorry that this happened to you, it's hard being a young woman in this world, but these are the challenges we have to face." You feel your heart drop as Dr.Collins stands up, looking down at you with false sympathy plastered on her face.

"The sad reality is that you're right, but how is anything supposed to change if people like you don't use your power to hold others accountable?" You force your voice to remain stable, forcing the disgust out of your voice, "I know I don't have physical evidence but Mr.Manning is- well- he's crazy. He thinks he's helping me by doing that, who knows who he'll go after next, who he already has gone after. Dr.Collins, I'm begging you. Men like him don't strike once, he'll do this to other people and when he does, we'll cause a scene." You force a polite smile on your face and turn to leave. The part of you that wanted to pretend it never happened had faded, you now just wanted revenge.

"Y/N, look, I've-" she lets out an agitated sigh "you're right, you're not the first. I've had other complaints about his solicitation and harassment before, and a few for his blatant sexism in the classroom, although, in a school full of over confident men, what else do you expect? I've never had someone claim he touched them in any way, but I wouldn't put it past him. There might be some things I can do, but please, don't make this a scene. I'm already under enough pressure from the board." You feel your blood boil as she continues to talk about herself, how Yale can't handle a scandal, how her life would be made harder. As if you hadn't cried on Spencer's chest for two hours because Yale couldn't handle firing a problematic professor.

"Fine." You sigh, if this is what it's going to take for Mr.Manning to get sent away then so be it. You want that man out of your life. You turn and march out of that suffocating office and outside into the brittle air. You storm back to Spencer's classroom, in a panic driven fury. Spencer is sitting at his desk, flipping through another worn down book when you enter, he springs up and watches you as you push past him and sink down in his chair. The anger and agony churns in your stomach and before you can stop yourself you sink on to your knees and double over the trash can next to Spencer's desk, emptying the content of your stomach into the pale beige container. Spencer crouches next to you, and with slight hesitation, pulls your hair back and holds it away from your face as you vomit.

"Y/N, are you- well clearly not, Y/N it's going to be okay," the sound of Spencer struggling to comfort you warms your heart in the sweetest way. "Hold on." He whispers once you sit up, letting your hair fall back around your face. He runs to his satchel and pulls out a small green water bottle "I hate water bottles because if un properly cleaned they can contain over 300,000 bacteria cells per square inch of the inside but I promise I clean mine everyday." You smile softly at him as he hands it to you, extending his other hand to help you up "it's also unused since I don't drink from those germ machine- not that mine is a germ machine I just was trying to-"

"Thank you, Spencer," you cut him off and take a sip "I trust your hygiene capabilities." You take a few more sips before handing it back to him, which he holds reluctantly for a moment before you take it back and set it on his desk. "I didn't mean to throw up, I don't know what that was."

"Well, throwing up is a very common reaction to over stimulation, extreme emotion or a build up
of stress in the body. I believe that your reaction was very justified one," he sighs and reaches for your hand "I'm assuming things didn't go all too well with Margret." You shrug.

"It's fine- It's all going to be fine, Spencer," you smile slightly, and this time you don't have to force it. "Let's just go home, it's Friday, I can sleep in tomorrow." You watch Spencer open his mouth as if to rebuttal you but instead he just nods and extends his hand to take yours.

—
You lay on Spencer's couch, choosing to stay at his place for the night, with your head buried in a beige throw pillow. You switch on the TV and scroll through the channels until NBC pops up, the strange urge to watch re runs of The Office appears so thats what you settle on. You watch for a few minutes until you hear the sound of the shower in Spencer's room shut off, a few moments later a wet haired Spencer shuffles into the living room in plaid pajama pants and a Cal Tech t-shirt. "The Office?" He says softly, you sit up so he has room to sit on the couch and as soon as he collapses into the soft cushions you can see his face riddled with worry, most likely over you, and lack of sleep. You bite your lip nervously, feeling a pang of guilt seeing him so wiped out. You turn to him, patting your lap.

"Lay down, love," you whisper. He smiles and extends his body across the couch, letting his head rest in your lap. You can feel his cool, wet curls against your bare legs, as you're dressed in nothing but a pair of work out shorts from your car and one of Spencer's donated hoodies he claims to never wear, although it smells too much like his familiar pine and spice for him to not wear it. "You don't have to worry, Spence, I promise I'm okay. As stressful as talking to Dr.Collins was it was very liberating, knowing that something will be done really helps."

"I'm not worried," he mutters, his voice cracking the way it does when he lies. You raise your eyebrows and stare down at him, his cheeks flush. "Is is that obvious?" You nod, combing your hands through his hair. "Well it's worrying when things like this happen to your girlfriend." Suddenly you both freeze. Your breath hitching in your throat, your hands falling to your sides. "I-I'm- Y/N, that's not what- please don't, uh, statistically 91% of adults declare a relationship or a split up after two months of dating or companionship, and it's been roughly two months, technically 52 and a half days, but I don't see us parting ways anytime soon and upon that observation I hypothesized that-"

"Spencer Walter Reid," you smile softly, bringing one hand up to his cheek, "just ask the fucking question." He smiles anxiously and you can tell from the way he wraps his arms around himself that he's embarrassed.

"I- we've only been on one official 'date' but we see each other so often, and we've been unordinarilly close from day 1 so," he sits up, unraveling his lanky arms from around himself, "I was wondering if you would officially be my girlfriend."

"Hell yeah," you whisper and you feel a genuine smile stretch across your lips. You take Spencer's face between your hands, cupping his gorgeous jawline and press a passionate kiss against his lips. You feel him hesitate to touch you and you simply nod as he kisses you back, urging him to continue.

Spencer grips your waist, pushing you flat on your back as he kisses you deeply, as if letting go of everything with every movement. You let go of his face, tangling your hands in his hair, spreading your legs apart as Spencer presses his body against you. He kisses down your neck, smiling as he does and you tilt your head back, letting out a deep, pleasured sigh as you completely surrender yourself to Spencer.

"You're mine." You hear him whisper and you can't tell if he's talking to you or to himself  "all mine." You smile softly as his breath warms your skin.

"Completely yours, Spencer."