slow burn // retired // roomate !! simon “ghost”’riley
⁃ everything you do has more color and intention than the sparse minimalist nature of his bedroom
⁃ after you get a stressed and a little weepy at a kitchen disaster he starts scrawling on the kitchen notepad which meals he made for you
⁃ after work you end up having dinner together it starts as watching trashy reality tv together on the couch (he pretends to be disinterested but is quickly sucked into the antics of 90 day fiancée, he watches it the same as a bad football game grumbling at the screen.)
⁃ there’s something achingly domestic about being with you he really tries to be a gentleman and all—
ignoring the squeaks of your bed springs from across the hall or your moan through the wall when you’re alone at night and he excuses himself at breakfast after an eyeful of your tiny pajamas that leave him incredibly hard
⁃ on the weekends you get into the habit of reading next to him on the couch as he lazily watches baseball (american sports make him sleepy, but the excuse to have you propped up against him makes it all worth it)
⁃ he notices you start to read in your room, joining him for dinner face flushed. you used to explain the plots of your current reads. he is softened when you begin leaving library books on his nightstand. but now he wonders why you’re pulling away, avoiding his eyes, and refusing to answer his questions.
⁃ a few days later he knocks on your door, overcome with anxiety he enters without pausing for your response. he catches you face flushed partially under the covers with a bodice ripper.
⁃ “i read it for the articles.” you quip
someone must’ve said that about playboy once right? he never mentioned anything about the vintage playboys scattered across your apartment. but you seemed embarrassed by this ??
⁃ simon can’t stand the idea that you’ve been pent up by yourself and he’s jealous that your imagination is fodder for your fantasies when he can give you the real thing.he finds himself buying a copy, longing to provide pleasure for you.
⁃ “how come you didn’t recommend me those books love?” he pries teasingly poking at you embarrassment
wondering if the interest is imagined when he sees you staring at him after he returns from running. or gazing at his mouth for a moment too long. ghosting over his knuckles as you take his dishes to wash (after all he cooks for you every day)
⁃ “i didn’t see you as the kind of man who has a taste for romance novels.”
the word taste has him reeling. seeing you shift your thighs searching for friction makes him desperate.
“love— if you read it to me, i would eat every word.”
he doesn’t want to make your nervous, overplay his hand.
⁃ he’s enamored when you read to him on the floor of the living room for a few days after dinner, you find yourself resting on top him instead of in the rug. he sits through chapters of exposition pining at your lilting voice.
some ghost x fat gf with chronic acne, just because the breakout babes need some love too
cw: acne, needles, pimple popping, mentions of broken and crooked teeth, newish relationships, kissing, nudity, face reveals, abrupt ending bc porn takes a million years for me to write and i didn't feel like doing it (soz)
the thing about starting to date someone who's masked all the time is that, if you really like them (and, god, do you like simon), you just imagine them as perfect. it almost becomes worrisome, and you have long, hard talks in the mirror about not building him up too much in your head, not holding him to some impossible standard that could only lead to disappointment if (when?) simon decides to show his face to you.
another unexpected consequence of assumed handsomeness are the pangs of inadequacy. it's bad enough, being the fat girlfriend to the huge military dude with the muscles, mask, and the motorcycle, but having really obvious, constant acne on top of it really feels like a practical joke played on you by god.
for fucks sake, it's hard enough existing with acne even without a big mysterious hunk on your arm. everyone you meet has a product they think you should try, a home remedy that'll surely save you from your currently round and pimply existence. nobody seems to be able to mind their business about your skin, and it feels like every social interaction is just a minefield of indignities you have to traverse.
every time you see simon, you feel like you're waiting for the other shoe to drop. it feels too good to be true, having the affection of this big, stoic dude who can't seem to keep his hands off your big, plush hips. every time he whispers his affections into your ear, a pang of doubt reverberates through your chest, even though he's given you no reason to mistrust him. it's an internal war with yourself, trying to believe that you're worthy of simon, that he means it when he says you're the one for him.
it all comes to a head when you're in his car, flipping down the visor mirror from the passenger seat and poking at a particularly sore pimple that's pressed against your nose. ugh, fuck, you wanna pop it so bad, you just know it would be satisfying in both discomfort relief and whatever itch your brain has that makes you watch dr. pimple popper. simon's hand reaches over and gently smacks your hand away from your face as he slides into the driver's seat.
"leave it. there's a proper way of dealin' with that, and it's not with dirty fingers in my truck." he chides, and your embarrassment threatens to make you internally combust. your hands tuck themselves under your thighs, your gaze avoids his, and you mumble a "sorry, s'just sore" as you silently pray to god to just open up a black hole and take you right there and then. simon's never said anything about your acne before, maybe he's mad he still has to look at it, like he thought you'dve figured out a way to clear it up by now. as if you aren't desperately trying.
to his eternal credit, he seems to notice you practically curling in on yourself, and rests a big, warm palm on the meat of your thigh.
"steady on, you're oll right. wot say you and i go to mine, i'll show ya 'ow t'deal with that the right way." he doesn't even wait for you to reply, turning over the engine and pulling into traffic as you blink at him.
the ride to his place is short, and in no time he's herded you into the bathroom, sitting you on the closed toilet as he prepares to show you his 'technique'.
"i've tried everything to get rid of it, simon. i don't know if this is gonna work." you tell him, arms crossed over your chest and ready for the insistence that his method will definitely work, just like you've heard a thousand times before.
"not tryin' t'cure ya. just teachin' you 'ow t'deal with the real nasty ones. said it 'urt, yeah?" oh. that's not what you'd expected at all, actually. you'd prepared to be slathered in toothpaste or some product you can't afford, merely being offered relief for your discomfort hadn't registered as an option.
"...yeah." you reply, a little bashful.
"olright, so step one is puttin' 'eat on it. 'old this on there for a few minutes." simon hands you a washcloth that's damp with hot water, and it feels kind of nice, alleviating a little of the pain that feels like it's radiating through your face.
"now step two is gonna be takin' this needle 'ere-" he holds up a pin needle between thick, calloused fingers, "-sanitize it, and stab that little pus bastard real careful-like, and with clean 'ands i'll press 'round the sides and get oll that shit out of your face. you trust me to do that?"
dark eyes bore into your own, and it hits you suddenly- this is kind of a big deal. even though it's a little gross, it's still pretty intimate, and you're still trusting him to push a needle into your face just enough to help express a pimple, but not so deep that he actually hurts you.
"i trust you." you do, too. it's only been a few weeks of going steady, seeing him every other day or so, but simon's never made you feel afraid or like he'd be reckless with you. besides, he clearly knows what he's doing here. deep in your heart you know you can trust him to be careful with you. a cotton swap soaked with rubbing alcohol swipes over the needle a few times, and a through strikes you.
"how do you know how to do this, anyways?" you ask, feeling awkward sitting there in silence as he prepares. simon cocks his head, eyes crinkling in a smile.
"learned the 'ard way about pokin' at 'em wrong. got more craters than the moon on my face." simon says with a casual shrug. "nothin' t'be done about that, but at least i'm not makin' more of 'em."
it never occurred to you that he might have acne like you. holy shit, in hindsight it makes sense, kind of. the mask has never been an issue, more of a quirk than a red flag in your eyes, but now the reason for it is getting a little clearer. it feels silly, but over all this time getting to know him, you never really asked about it. you'd always just figured he'd tell you in his own time.
"oh. i- is that why you, uh, wear it? your mask, i mean." you stumble over the words, heat spreading across your face with embarrassment. the corners of his eyes crease a little more, a bigger smile.
"it's a reason. got several. now stay still, love. i'll be quick." he is, too. he doesn't drag it out, just barely taps the zit with the needle before it's gone and out of your sight again, set on the counter before simon gently presses against your skin with warm fingers. the relief is instant, the throbbing, sore pain that felt like it was eating away at the cartilage of your nose is suddenly, blissfully, gone. you've got to hand it to simon- he's right, this is a lot better than dirty fingers in a truck cab.
"oh, wow, that feels way better. thank you." you say, trying to fully express your gratitude for everything as he dabs some ointment on your nose. you're not just thankful for him helping with the pain, but also just, like, not being fucking weird about this stupid thing your skin does. he's been super cool about it this whole time, and not everyone in your life has been.
"course. any others need pokin' since we're 'ere?"
"oh, uh." there is one, but you're not sure if it would be pressing your luck. you've been keeping an eye on it in the mirror, and it's hideous- angry skin surrounding a large yellowish head. the one on your nose was gnarly, sure, but this thing. it's a beast. maybe it'll be his limit. maybe it'll be the thing that makes him stop liking you.
"where." it's less of a question than it is an order to tell him.
"on my back, under the band of my bra." the words come out on their own accord, following his instructions instead of your own.
"shirt off, then, and sit on the edge of the tub facin' away from me." he crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head back a bit, like he's waiting. the edge of the tub is a little narrow, making it a little uncomfortable to sit on, and you quickly lift the back of your shirt and pull it off, holding it against your chest. logically, you know you're going to have to unclasp your bra, but you're not keen on simon watching you try to reach back there to do it instead of your normal 'grab and twist until the clasp is at the front' method. gotta keep some of the mystery alive, even if he is popping your zits.
a warm finger lightly traces under the band of your bra, and it sends a shiver down your spine.
"gonna 'ave to take this off, love. you mind?" simon practically purrs into your ear, chuckling when you silently shake your head, staring down at your feet. the band of your bra is tight against your ribs for the briefest of moments before all of your support goes slack, leaving your tits a bit freer than before. the heat of simon's hands are damn near searing when he pushes the straps down off of your shoulders and starts rubbing at the sore indents that are left there.
"oh, sweetheart. it's lookin' right painful back 'ere. i'll get you fixed up in no time, i swear it." a hot compress soothes the aching spot on your back for a few minutes while simon's free hand rubs around the irritated grooves of where your bra straps were, digging in with just enough pressure to feel blissful.
"oh, that's- that feels really nice. thank you." you tell him quietly, trying your best to bite back a moan.
"gonna needle ya 'ere in a minute. you be good and 'old still f'me." the washcloth is gone, and you barely feel the brief pressure of the needle, but you definitely feel his thumbs dig in and press. a low whistle rings out as he squeezes.
"real gross, huh?" you ask over your shoulder, trying not to grimace at being pinched like this.
"she's a doozy, that's f'sure. must've been bloody uncomfortable, love. from now on, you let me know if you've got ones you can't reach and i'll fix ya right up." the wash cloth is wiped over your back, and the tenderness on your back is entirely gone.
"thanks, uh, again." you say awkwardly over your shoulder as he dabs ointment on your back.
"my sweet, grateful girl." warm lips find the side of your neck, making your eyes flutter closed with a sigh. "now, since we're olready at mine and your shirt's off..."
his hands move up your back, wrapping over your shoulders and sliding to your arms, going back and forth, clearly waiting for you to give him your go-ahead before doing anything else.
"really? popping zits does it for you? that must explain why you like me." you say, hoping to play it off as a joke. the hands wandering your body go still, gripping you just a little harder and holding you in place.
"what does it for me is takin' care of my girl, 'elpin' 'er feel better. bein' useful. if you'd needed a tire changed i'd be 'avin' you in the backseat when i finished." he rumbles, hot breath fanning over your ear. "and for the record- i like you because you're kind, smart, funny, and 'ave an arse so wide i can get a real proper 'andful."
thick fingers squeeze at the meat of your ass, just to prove his point, and you can feel yourself getting a little worked up, thighs pressed together while your face warms. your fingers clutch your shirt and bra tightly against your bare tits, and you'd swear your can feel the heat of simon's chest radiating through his clothes against your back.
"oh." you can't think of anything else to say, really. it's hard not to be a little breathless about this, about finally being in his home, shirt off, with his lips on your neck and hand sliding from your ass to your hips, holding you still.
"need me t'show ya 'ow much i like ya, love? y'want that?" the way he's holding you and the tone in his voice makes it clear he's not about to, like, bust out some lines of poetry. bare lips graze your shoulder and it finally, finally dawns on you- he's not wearing a mask right now. this entire time you've been getting to know each other, the closest you've gotten to seeing his face was when he's pulled you into dark rooms or alleys to kiss you senseless, his kn95 hanging off of one ear and securely affixed to the other the second he pulled away. he's like a magician with that thing, really.
"please." the word vaults out of your mouth, soft, breathy, and desperate. simon just chuckles, a low heh heh heh as he tugs gently on your arm, urging you to your feet.
as soon as you're standing outside the tub, you turn to face him, and it's a shock to see his bare face. he's nothing like what you'd imagined, if you're honest with yourself, but that's not a bad thing. simon's no ruggedly handsome hollywood movie star, he's just... a man. one with a crooked nose, pockmarks scattered over his cheeks, and some red, angry looking acne along his jaw.
maybe to other people that would be a turn-off, but to you? it isn't. it can't be. this is the man you love, and you know more than anyone that angry skin has nothing to do with hygiene or cleanliness, he just has the same genetic propensity for outbreaks as you do. if anything it makes him more relatable, less of an enigma on a pedestal and more of a comfortable peer, one you can confide in. is it weird that his blemishes make you love him just a little bit more? because you think they might.
"hi." you say softly, and simon's thin lips stretch out into a crooked, broken toothed smile. oh, that's charming as well, actually. his smile has character, one that's distinctly his and not like anyone else's. unlike all those cookie-cutter, veneer enhanced grins you've seen, his is inimitable, solely simon's and no one else's, which makes it special as far as you're concerned. that's simon's smile, only his, and right now it's directed right at you, making your heart feel as full as it ever has.
"pretty thing, you gonna give me a kiss?" his smile turns playful, and it's so much fun to see how expressive he is. incredible to think about all the smirks and frowns and pouts you've missed due to his mask. just looking at his bare face, it feels like you could just watch him emote all damn day.
you step closer to him, shirt and bra still wadded up against your bare chest, not as a conscious decision but simply because you're too distracted by his wonderful, smiling face. all you can even think is 'there he is. at last. mine.'
when you get close enough, he cups your face and kisses you, thumbs running over your textured skin. were he anyone else, you might feel self-conscious, but not with him. not with your simon. you've never felt more comfortable, more seen and understood by someone in your entire life. your skin, your fat- it's like it's all value neutral to him, just a part of you to love and dote on. you'd already known you were into him before, but now? after having him treat your biggest insecurity like it's no big deal, like it's just another part of you to take care of? it's hard not to be overwhelmed by how much love you're feeling right now.
when you reach out to wrap your arms around him, dropping your body-warm clothes onto your feet and pressing your bare tits against his chest as you deepen the kiss, all you can feel is a possessive surge within yourself. the rumble of his amused laugh rattling around in your mouth, swallowed up inside you where your heart thrums in time to the only thought that's left in your head.
Hi Sage! I was so happy when I saw you are gonna write for criminal minds! Can I request some soft smut with Spencer? Maybe his and reader’s first time together, they have to share a bed on a case or something like that. I love your writing so much and I would love to see how you’d write Spence ❤️ thank you for sharing your writing!!
𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ♡
Thank you so much for the sweet words and the lovely request dear anon! ♡ I had such a good time writing this, and I can't wait to write more for Spencer!
Spencer Reid x afab!reader || Masterlist || Spencer playlist
summary: Having to share a room with one of your fellow BAU agents is not an uncommon occurrence, and that agent being Spencer is not new either. The two of you have roomed together on multiple occasions before, but all previous instances have been different from this one. In all those prior cases, you both had separate beds, but not this time.
word count: 7.3k
warning/tags: Smut! (18+, mdni!) Mutual pining. Friends/colleagues to lovers. Idiots in love. Slightly awkward. A hint of angst, but mostly just fluff. Nightmares. Wet dreams. Inexperienced (but not virgin) Spencer. Vaginal fingering. Unprotected p in v. Creampie. I haven’t had time to proofread so sorry if there’s any mistakes.
In many ways the room is about as ordinary as any small town hotel room can be. However, one aspect instantly catches your attention upon opening the door - the room only has one bed…
As you step further into the room, you exchange a bewildered glance with Spencer, both unsure of how to proceed. It is a big bed, more than enough room for the both of you to be able to sleep comfortably next to each other, but despite how good of friends you and Spencer are, something about it feels weirdly intimate.
Having to room with one of your fellow BAU agents on cases is not uncommon, and sharing a room with Spencer isn’t new either. The two of you have roomed together on multiple occasions before, but previous instances were distinct from this one. In all those prior times, you both had separate beds.
“I, uhm… I can sleep on the floor,” Spencer suggests tentatively, breaking the silence that had filled the room. His voice is hesitant, almost as if he’s apprehensive about suggesting such a thing.
You look at him, noticing the slight blush on his cheeks as he avoids eye contact. It is clear that he doesn’t want to inconvenience you or make you feel uncomfortable by overstepping any boundaries.
But there is absolutely no way that you’re going to let Spencer sleep on the cold, hard floor, especially after a long day of chasing down an UnSub. “You’re not sleeping on the floor, Spence,” you protest, shaking your head gently. “There is more than enough room on the bed; we can put some pillows between us if that’ll make you more comfortable,” you suggest. You can see his apprehension, his discomfort at the idea of encroaching on your personal space.
In a way it’s very sweet, you know Spencer well, and you know how little he would enjoy lying on the floor, yet he is willing to give up his own comfort for you.
But at the same time you can’t help but feel a little pang of… Of what exactly you’re not sure. Disappointment maybe, or even longing? And a little irrational fear that maybe he actually finds sleeping next to you so uncomfortable that he would prefer the floor.
You have tried to suppress your feelings for Spencer for a long time, you have had a crush on him from the moment you first joined the BAU three years ago, but the more you got to know him, and the deeper your friendship deepend the deeper your feelings for him also grew.
You know that you’re being irrational, but you can’t help but wonder if Spencer actually feels uncomfortable by the idea of sharing a bed with you or if it’s something else entirely. As you continue to stare at him, hoping for a clue, Spencer nervously fidgets with the strap of his bag which he still hasn’t put down.
“Sure, pillows…” he finally speaks, his voice trailing off. You can tell he’s hesitant, it’s clear that the idea of sharing a bed with you is not something he had anticipated or prepared for.
You take a step closer to Spencer, trying to ease the tension that has settled between you. “Spencer, it’s going to be okay. We’ve slept in the same room many times before, remember? This is just a little different, but I’ll promise to stay on my side of the bed,” you assure him, offering a small smile.
Spencer glances over at you, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before he takes a deep breath andnodding slowly as he finally sets his bag down and starts to remove his jacket. His movements are deliberate, almost mechanical, as if he’s trying to distract himself from the tension in the room. Lost in your thoughts, you find yourself stealing glances at him. You watch his every movement, wondering if there’s more to his unease than just sharing a bed. As he hangs his jacket neatly on the back of a chair, you can’t help but notice the way his fingers tremble ever so slightly.
“Do you want the bathroom first?” you ask, trying to break the silence and bring some normalcy back into the situation. Spencer looks up at you, his eyes reflecting gratitude for the distraction.
“Uh, yeah, that sounds good,” he replies, his voice slightly shaky. He walks past you towards the bathroom, his steps quick and purposeful.
While he’s in the bathroom, you take a moment to collect your thoughts, as you start to take out your pajamas and toiletries from your bag before going over to the bed, placing a few pillows in a row in the middle of the mattress. The tension in the room is palpable, and you can’t help but wonder if there’s something more going on with Spencer. You’ve always had a strong connection with him, but lately, there have been moments when you’ve sensed a shift in his behavior towards you. It’s hard to put into words, but there’s a certain longing and vulnerability that seems to surface whenever you’re together.
As you ponder these thoughts, Spencer emerges from the bathroom. He’s changed into his pajamas, checkered flannel bottoms and a long sleeved cotton t-shirt, his hair damp from his shower. You can’t help but notice how adorable he looks. There is something so soft looking over him like this, almost domestic and your heart skips a beat.
“Your turn,” he says softly, gesturing towards the bathroom. You nod and make your way inside, trying to steady your own racing heart.
The warm water from the shower helps to calm your nerves, but your mind is still filled with questions. What if there’s a chance that Spencer feels the same way? What if this shared bed situation could bring you closer together?
You finish your shower and step out, wrapping a towel around yourself. As you reach for your pajamas, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm and not let your emotions get the best of you, yes you have developed feelings for Spencer but first and foremost he is your friend and, and you can’t start assuming things. He is allowed to find sharing a bed with you awkward.
When you return to the room, Spencer is already tucked into one side of the bed, the one closest to the door, his back turned towards you, and you can’t help but notice that he is far closer to the edge of the mattress than he needs to be. The only light in the room now coming from the bedside lamp on the side of the bed that has been assigned to you by Spencer.
You quietly slip into your side, letting the heavy comforter cover your body as you lay down on your back, looking over at Spencer’s back for a short moment before looking back up into the ceiling.
The proximity between you is both exhilarating and nerve-wracking, as you lie there, so close to each other yet so far away. You take a deep breath before you break the silence once again. “Ready to turn off the light?”
Spencer shifts slightly, his voice barely above a whisper as he responds, “Yeah, sure.” You reach over and switch off your lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The only source of light now is the faint glow of moonlight coming shining through the blinds.
As you lay there, your mind starts to wander, replaying all the moments you’ve shared with Spencer over the years. The late-night conversations, the shared laughter, the times he’s been there for you when you needed someone the most. Each memory fills you with a mixture of warmth and longing.
“Good night, Spence,” you utter softly into the darkness,
“Night,” he replies, his voice barely audible in the quiet space and the room falls silent once again.
You let out the softest of sighs as you close your eyes, finally letting yourself feel how tired you really are, slowly letting yourself try to surrender to sleep.
· · ·
It’s still dark in the room as you wake up, only an hour or two have passed since you fell asleep, and for just about half a second you get to wonder what had woken you so abruptly before the reason becomes clear to you.
It is Spencer who woke you. In the dimly lit room, his agitated body twists and contorts restlessly next to you. You turn around so you’re facing him, propping yourself up on your elbow so you’re slightly hovering over him, the darkness of the room shadowing his face, but as your eyes get used to the dark you notice the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, his eyebrows knitted and his breathing erratic and shallow.
Unintelligible, fearful murmurs escape his lips, carrying traces of an impending terror. With a gentle touch, you place your hand on his shoulder, hoping to offer some comfort as you try to gently pull him out of his nightmare.
“Spencer,” you say softly. “Spencer, wake up.”
His eyes fly open, wide with fear, his gaze darting around for a second or two, before they lock with yours which seems to calm him down a little. -
“I’m sorry, I woke you,” he mutters, his rapid breathing slowly coming under control.
“Spence, it’s okay, I get them too,” you remind him. “We all do.”
“I-I know… this one was just so real…” Spencer takes a moment, his brows knitted as if he’s contemplating whether to share the details or simply let the disturbing dream fade away. “You were there,” he finally says, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I couldn’t get to you in time, I-I kept running but I didn’t get any closer a-and…” but then he stops, like he can’t get himself to continue.
You feel how your heart clenches at his words, he had a nightmare about you…
“Well, I’m right here, and I’m okay,” you reassure him, offering a soft smile before you place a gentle hand on his shoulder as if to emphasize your statement, hoping to offer some comfort.
He places his own hand on top of yours, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“You think you can go back to sleep?” you ask him as you finally remove your hand from his shoulder.
“Yeah, I think so,” he says and the two of you both lay back down on the mattress, but a short silence falls over the room before Spencer speaks again. “Would it be okay if we removed the pillows?”
“Of course,” you whisper back, removing the pillows. There is still a decent gap between you, but the cushioned wall is now gone. You yearn to close the gap, wanting to reach out for him, to comfort him with an embrace, but you just stay on your side of the bed. This can be enough, you can live with just being his friend, despite how your heart yearns for more.
“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, now laying on his back instead of facing away from you like last time you said goodnight.
“Goodnight,” you whisper back, “and, Spence?” you add.
“Yeah?”
“Remember you can always talk to me if you need it, I know how it feels.”
A beat of silence. “Yeah, I know, and thank you, it’s really nice to know that.”
You let out a soft sigh as you finally close your eyes again. “Of course, that is what friends are for.”
“Yeah, friends…” he mumbles, so low you barely hear it.
But you do hear it, and you ponder over it a little as you again begin to slowly drift off to sleep, and as you find yourself in the liminal space between wakefulness and slumber. Each breath you take seems to synchronize with Spencer’s soft breathing. In the darkness, your thoughts become even more encompassed by the draw you feel towards him, the yearning to hold him, to be held by him.
Suddenly, you feel a shift in the bed, and your heart skips a beat. Did Spencer just move closer to you? You open your eyes to find him curled up, facing your direction. His features softened, no longer affected by his nightmare, but now relaxed in sleep. It takes all of your willpower not to reach out and touch his tousled curls, to trace the contours of his face.
But you don’t. You don’t want to risk jeopardizing the friendship you share. As much as you yearn for more, you’re determined not to overstep any boundaries.
With a heavy sigh, you turn away from Spencer, facing the wall instead. Your emotions are in disarray, swirling within you like a tempestuous storm. The closeness you currently have, even if it’s just a hair’s breadth away, feels agonizingly bittersweet.
As you drift closer to sleep, nestled in the comfort of the bed, you feel a sense of contentment and tranquility. Despite the uncertainty and longing, there is solace in the silent presence of Spencer beside you. And for now, that is enough.
· · ·
You are stirred from sleep once again later in the night. This time, it is a gradual, more peaceful transition into consciousness. A sense of warmth and snugness engulfing you, making you fill with a sense of complete safety and comfort, your eyes still closed and your mind still groggy from sleep.
As you slowly emerge from your drowsy state, it takes a moment for you to identify the source of your comfort. As time passes, and you’re pulled enough out of your sleepy daze you start to become aware of the gentle movements against your body, and you start to perceive the muffled sounds emanating from beside you, and confusion is washing over you for a short moment before you remember where you are. Remembering that you’re in a hotel room in a small town in Nebraska, a hotel room which you’re sharing with Spencer, a hotel room that only has one bed…
Your eyes flutter open as Spencer’s arms squeeze you a little tighter, your back is pressed up against his chest and your legs are tangled under the warm covers. His steady breath gently fan the back of your neck, his lips ghosting over your skin, grazing just over your pulse point.
And it is now, as you are being pressed tight up against him, that you feel it. How he gently is rocking against you. How the outline of his hard cock is pressing against the curve of your ass. You let out a faint gasp, as a warm shiver runs through you right down to your now throbbing cunt.
Your heart skips a beat, overwhelmed by the intensity of this unexpected intimacy from Spencer. You are not completely sure what to do, what Spencer would prefer you to do in this situation. There is no way you’re gonna be able to wiggle out of his embrace without risking waking him. You should probably wake him, right?
You can’t believe that this is really happening, that you really are in this position with Spencer right now. But you know that you can’t read too much into it, that people just get wet dreams sometimes, that this is just a physical reaction. He didn’t even want to share the bed with you in the first place, and you were the one who insisted on it. As much as you dread having to face him in this position, you really should wake him.
You know Spencer, you know that he will feel embarrassed when you wake him, but it will be nowhere near as bad as the betrayal he will feel if he finds out that you didn’t stop this.
Taking a deep breath, you start to gently nudge Spencer awake, careful not to startle him. “Spencer,” you say gently, slightly wiggling in his embrace as you try to face him. “Spencer, wake up.”
As he stirs, his eyes flutter open, and he looks at you with a mixture of confusion and sleepiness, before a look of absolute horror overtakes his face, his eyes filling with panic. His embrace immediately loosens, and he quickly pulls away from you. The distance between your bodies, making you feel a sudden pang of emptiness as he bolts off the bed.
“I- I’m so sorry,” he stutters, his voice frantic. “I don't know what came over me. This isn’t... I didn’t mean to…” His words trail off, and he looks utterly mortified.
“Spence, it’s okay,” you try to reassure him, watching as he begins to pace back and forth in the small room, and start to gather his belongings, his eyes darting around the room anxiously, as if searching for an escape. “Spencer?” you try again, hoping to bring him back from the edge of his spiraling thoughts. You get out of the bed, your bare feet hitting the cold floorboards.
But Spencer doesn’t seem to even hear you, he just grabs his bag and starts stuffing his belongings inside, his movements frantic and uncoordinated. “I-I’ll leave,” he begins, his voice strained with guilt and embarrassment.
“Spencer, please,” you say softly, stepping around the bed to get to him. “You don’t have to leave.”
He is halfway through the bathroom door by now, his bag dropping from his shoulder. Tears are pooling in his eyes, his expression tortured. “I can’t stay,” he says, his voice quivering. “I made you uncomfortable...”
“Spence,” you try again, now standing only a few steps from him.
“No… I made you uncomfortable, and I-I’m so sorry, I just- I mean- or no, I didn’t mean…” he begins to ramble before giving up and burying his face in his hands.
Your heart aches at his words, at the pain in his eyes. You never wanted this to happen, never wanted to make him feel like this. “Spence, you could never make me uncomfortable” you say, trying to keep your voice as steady and comforting as you can, your heart thumping loudly in your chest.
“You don’t have to say that,” he begins, but you cut him off before he can start spiraling even more than he already is.
“I do, Spence, cause it’s true. You haven’t made me uncomfortable, okay?” you need him to believe you, you are colleagues and you’ll have to see each other everyday, but also, and more importantly, he is your friend and he means so much to you, you just can’t lose him. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I promise. Please, look at me.”
You take a step closer to Spencer, reaching out for him, gently placing your hand on his trembling shoulder. Sensing the depth of his distress, you speak softly, attempting to soothe him further, and he finally looks at you, his damp eyes filled with shame and embarrassment.
“I... I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he stammers, his voice shaky. “I never wanted to make you uncomfortable or take advantage of you. I don’t even know why I…”
You interrupt him gently, placing a hand on his cheek to bring his attention back to you. “Spencer, listen to me. It’s alright.”
He searches your eyes, seeking reassurance. A moment passes before he finally speaks. “Are you sure it’s alright?” vulnerability shining through his words.
“Yes, Spence… It’s alright,” you feel sad, because as selfish as it is, you do wish your words weren’t true, wish that it did mean something, but you have to ignore that for now. It’s not fair to be selfish right now, what you need is to comfort Spencer and reassure him that it’s okay. You have to ignore how good it felt to feel him against your body, having him grinding against you, having his lean arms around you…
“What happened... It was just a physical reaction and I don’t hold it against you. I know you didn’t mean for it to happen, and it’s not like you can control your dreams,” you offer him a small smile, one that you hope will convince him that you mean what you’re saying, but it feels bittersweet as you say your next words. “I know it didn’t mean anything.”
Spencer’s shoulders visibly slump as he absorbs your words. He still looks deeply conflicted, but your reassurance seems to have calmed him down slightly. “That’s not true…” he murmurs, he sounds unsure, almost shy as he says it, yet there is a determination flickering in his hazel brown eyes.
That’s not true..? You wonder if he is going to disagree with your statement about not being able to control dreams and launch into an extensive explanation of the technicalities of lucid dreaming, but what he says instead makes your heart flutter and fills you with a sense of hope. “It did mean something,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your breath catches in your throat at his words. The room feels charged with tension, the air thick with uncertainty. You take a step closer to him, your hand still resting gently on his cheek. “Spencer, what do you mean?” you ask, your voice soft and filled with curiosity. And a realization courses through your body, he didn’t just have a wet dream, he had a wet dream about you…
He takes a deep breath, his eyes locked with yours. “You mean so much to me. My dreams, my nightmares, my…” he trails off, a pink blush spreading across his cheeks, my wet dreams, his blush is telling. “My waking thoughts, they always end up being about you.”
You feel your heart swell, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling within you. Spencer’s words hang in the air, leaving you momentarily breathless. Unable to contain your own feelings any longer. You close the last distance between you, so close that you now can feel the heat radiating from his body, your hand sliding from his cheek to the back of his neck. Your touch is gentle, craving a connection, desperate to convey your own emotions. “Spencer,” you whisper, your voice filled with a tenderness you can no longer hide. “It’s the same for me.”
Spencer’s eyes widen in surprise, his breath hitching in his throat. It takes a moment for his words to find their way back to him. “You...you feel the same way?” he says, almost breathlessly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of deception. “You’re not just saying this to make me feel better?”
You shake your head, your voice filled with sincerity. “No. I wouldn’t say this if I didn’t mean it.”
Relief floods his features, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. His pretty, pretty lips which look so soft and so damn kissable… “Oh…” is all he manages to say, his voice filled with soft gentle wonder.
You can see how the weight is slowly lifting off of his shoulders, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of relief and happiness. He reaches out to take your free hand in his. He moves his other hand to your waist, at first not fully committing to the touch, his fingers gently ghosting over your pajamas, but with a soft smile of encouragement from you he gently places his palm against you, and his touch sends a wave of warmth through your body.
The room seems to shrink, the world outside becoming distant and irrelevant. At this moment, it’s like the two of you are the only two people left on this earth. Spencer’s lips part slightly, as if he wants to say something more, but the words remain trapped in his throat. Instead, he leans in, his breath mingling with yours, and then, his lips brush against yours in the softest, most tentative of kisses.
It’s a moment of pure vulnerability, and raw emotion. The kiss is a little hesitant at first yet filled with longing. The warmth of his lips against yours creates an electric current that surges through your entire body, igniting a fire within you. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him, as if he never wants to let you go. The possessiveness in his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself losing all sense of restraint.
In this moment, the world outside doesn’t matter. All that matters is the connection between you and Spencer, the warmth that courses through your veins with every touch and every kiss. You feel how heat is pooling in your stomach.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, lightly tugging on the wavy strands, making him gently moan into the kiss as your other hand finds its way to his face, caressing his cheeks as if trying to convey all the feelings you have bottled up inside.
The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate and desperate, as if both of you have been longing for this moment for far too long. It’s a dance of tongues and teeth, a melding of souls, and you can’t help but lose yourself in the sensations. The taste of his lips, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the way he pulls you closer as if he wants to merge your bodies into one.
Desire courses through you, igniting a fire within that consumes every rational thought. You press yourself flush against him, unable to stop your body from slowly grinding against him as the need for more contact intensifies, making Spencer moan into the kiss, which only makes your own desire for him grow even stronger. Every touch, every movement sends a jolt of anticipation through your body, the friction between you building a deliciously tantalizing tension.
The need for more becomes unbearable, but your lungs start to burn and you finally break the heated kiss to get a breath of air. His lips hovering mere inches from yours, his breath warm and ragged. The room is filled with thick tension as you lock eyes, the intensity between you crackling with electricity. You take a moment to steady your own breath before asking him, a little shyly, what you want to know the most in this moment. “Wanna tell me about your dream?”
Your words hang in the air, a challenge and an invitation, as you search his gaze for approval. He looks into your eyes, his own filled with a mix of desire and vulnerability. “How…” He takes a deep, steadying breath, before continuing. “How about I show you instead?”
You feel your heart skip a beat at his words, a rush of excitement and anticipation flooding through you. Without hesitation, you nod your head, your voice barely above a whisper as you respond, “I’d like that.”
You reach for his hand, guiding him towards the bed. As you lay down, he hovers above you, his eyes filled with a mixture of passion, desire, and a hint of vulnerability. The vulnerability only makes you want him more, to show him that the connection you both share is real, that it’s more than just a passing moment of lust.
You place a hand at the back of his neck, drawing him down towards you, and his lips meet yours in another fervent kiss. The weight of his body pressing against you sends a thrill through your veins, a delicious ache building between your thighs. You bring your legs up, wrapping them around him, making him let out a low grunt.
His mouth leaves your lips to instead trail down along your jawline, down your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses in their wake. His movements start out slightly clumsy, but he is very quick to adapt and adjust, finding a rhythm that suits both of you. You tilt your head back, giving him better access, surrendering yourself to the pleasure that ripples through your body with each touch of his lips. His hands move up the sides of your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
“Fuck, Spence,” you whine. Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging gently, urging him on. His lips find their way to your collarbone, and he nips at the sensitive flesh, causing a gasp to escape your lips. The sensation sends a jolt straight to your core, and you can feel yourself growing wetter and wetter with desire for him.
His fingers dip beneath the hem of your shirt, skimming along the curve of your waist, his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. You arch your back, silently begging for more, and he obliges, his hands slipping further up until they find your breasts, his thumbs rubbing softly over your hardened nipples. A low moan escapes your mouth, and his lips find yours once again, swallowing the sound and pouring his own desire into the kiss before pulling away to speak. “We… we weren’t wearing this much clothes… In my dream.”
As the words tumble from his lips, you feel a surge of anticipation flood through you. The desire to match his dream, to fulfill his fantasies, takes hold of you. With a breathless chuckle, followed by an encouraging smile you nod and begin to undo the buttons of your pajama shirt, slowly revealing your bare skin to his hungry gaze. His eyes darken with desire as he watches the fabric slip off your shoulders and expose your breasts fully to him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and reverence.
Spencer’s hands tremble slightly as he reaches out, gently cupping your breasts, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His eyes never leave yours as he experiments with different pressures and strokes, learning the map of your body through touch. Each caress sets you ablaze, igniting a fire within you that only he can satisfy.
“I...I never imagined this could be real,” Spencer admits, his voice laced with awe and reverence. “To have you like this, to be able to touch you, it’s beyond anything I ever dreamed of.”
His words melt into the air, caressing your senses as you guide his hands down your body, your breath hitching with each movement. The heat between your legs intensifies, the ache growing unbearable as his fingers brush against your heated, still covered core.
“Then let’s get rid of the rest of our clothes,” you whisper, your voice filled with anticipation and desire. With shaking hands, you help Spencer undress, removing his shirt and pants after he has shed you of your own pants.
The air is thick with tension, as the only things that are now covering the two of you being your own panties and Spencer’s gray boxer briefs. You swallow, the sight of him making a hot shiver run through your body, right down to your throbbing cunt, making you squeeze your thighs together. The imposing size of the bulge in his underwear only adds to the anticipation that swirls inside you. The dark spot of precum on the gray cotton, making you drool and without a second thought, you slide your hand down to where his arousal strains against the garment, palming him gently through the fabric, a low groan escapes his lips, the sound music to your ears.
“Shouldn’t we get these off too?” Your voice takes on a sultry tone as you gently squeeze him through his underwear.
Another groan, this one a little more whiny, falls from his lips, as he nods eagerly.
You let out a gasp as he follows your suggestion, and slides off this last item of clothing. His hard cock springs free, hitting his stomach. He is big, thick and throbbing with a bead of precum at the tip that you would love to lick off of him. You have never seen a more mouthwatering cock in your life, and if it wasn’t because you were so damn desperate to have him inside of you, you would get on your knees and choke on him in this instant. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a really pretty cock, Spence?”
“N-no…”
“Well, you do,” you assure him. Spencer’s cheeks flush by your bold compliment as you reach out for him. “Now come here, pretty boy,” you say, pulling him down on you again and he doesn’t hesitate, capturing your lips once again, but not before telling you how beautiful you are.
“Can’t concentrate sometimes, you’re so beautiful, it’s distracting,” he murmurs between kisses. “And you’re always so sweet to me, to everyone, and so fucking sexy,” he whispers against your lips. The warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine, intensifying the electricity between you.
You smile into the kiss, feeling an overwhelming surge of affection for Spencer. His words touch a deep, insecure part of your heart that you rarely expose to anyone. It’s moments like these when you realize just how lucky you are to have him in your life, and how deeply you want him to play an even bigger role than he already does.
Breaking away from the kiss, you gaze into Spencer’s expressive eyes, his pupils blown wide with lust and affection. “I could say all that about you too, you know” you confess, sincerity lacing your voice as you bring your hand up to push a stray curl away from his face. “You can be very distracting too, Dr. Reid,” you whisper, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you gently rut your clothed pussy up against his erection as you address him by his title.
A desperate grunt escapes his lips as he feels the friction between your bodies. He leans his forehead against yours, his voice husky with anticipation. “God, you have no idea how badly I want you,” he breathes, his voice thick with desire. You can feel his body trembling against yours, the need radiating off of him in waves.
“Me too, Spence,” you pant, you are now grinding against him in a slow, sloppy rhythm, “need to have you inside of me so bad.” you confess. “Do you have a condom?”
Spencer’s eyes widen slightly at your question, a mix of desire and concern flickering across his face. “No… I didn’t think... I-I mean, it’s not something I… I didn’t expect...this,” Spencer stammers, his cheeks turning pink. “I didn’t think we would…”
“It’s okay, Spencer,” you say, your voice filled with understanding, gently cupping his face in your hands, you take a little pause before continuing, “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean... so if you want…” you trail off, wanting him to be the one to make the decision
Spencer takes a moment to process your words, his expression shifting from surprise to relief. He exhales a shaky breath, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. “I-I’ve never done this without a condom…” he confesses, blushing even more, “not that I’ve done this a whole lot…” he says, his voice filled with vulnerability.
You have been unsure about how experienced Spencer is but his honesty and vulnerability only make you appreciate him more. You stroke his cheek gently, comforting him with your touch. You are just about to tell him that it is okay, and that you don’t have to do anything he is not ready for and that you can stop if he isn’t feeling like doing this anymore, but Spencer speaks before you have a chance to say any of this.
“But I want to do it all with you,” he says, his voice filled with determination and longing. “I trust you.”
His words send a surge of warmth through your body, a reassurance that he is fully committed to this moment and to exploring the depths of your connection. You lean in, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss, conveying both your love and desire for him.
Now that you finally know how it feels to kiss him after having pondered over it for so long you just can’t stop, his lips too intoxicating, too addictive. “I trust you too, Spence,”you murmur against his lips, your voice laden with affection and honesty as you spread your legs, inviting him to take the next step.
Spencer’s eyes flicker with a mix of desire and admiration as he brings his hands down to skim over the thin, and by now soaked, fabric of your panties, you arch your back, silently begging for more.
A hungry expression dances over his features before he slides the fabric aside, his touch sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. His fingers trail through the wetness already pooling between your legs, spreading out your arousal as he circles your clit. A shudder runs through you, your back arching off the mattress as pleasure courses through your veins. He continues to tease you, his touch feather-light yet impossibly intense.
“You’re so wet,” he says intrigued, and you find his fascination utterly endearing.
“Well, it’s all for you, Spence,” you moan in response as Spencer’s fingers glide over your slick folds, his touch becoming more purposeful and assertive. The anticipation builds inside you, a mixture of desire and nervous excitement. You watch Spencer’s face for any signs of hesitation or uncertainty, but all you find is a hunger that matches your own as he slides a finger inside of you. Your breath hitches as he curls his finger, hitting a spot deep inside that sends a wave of pleasure crashing through your body. You grip the sheets, your nails digging into the fabric as Spencer adds another finger, stretching you and filling you up.
The room fills with your moans and gasps, the sound of your pleasure mixing with the wet sounds of his fingers working you. You can feel your walls tightening around him, a signal that you’re close to the edge. Sensing your impending release, Spencer leans down, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss as he continues to thrust his fingers inside you. The combination of his touch and his kiss sends you spiraling over the edge, waves of ecstasy washing over you.
You cling to Spencer, your body trembling with pleasure as he guides you through your orgasm, his fingers never faltering in their movements. As your climax subsides, he withdraws his fingers slowly, his gaze locked with yours. You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as the intensity of the moment washes over you.
“That was...amazing,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe. You smile, feeling a surge of pride and contentment wash over you.
“You’re amazing,” you reply, your voice filled with love.
“I want to be inside you so badly,” Spencer confesses, his voice filled with desire and urgency. His eyes bore into yours, pleading for your permission. You can see the vulnerability and longing in his gaze, making your heart swell with affection for him.
With a nod, you give him your consent, silently urging him to take the next step. and he gets up on his knees. His erection stands tall, glistening with anticipation. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he slowly positions himself between your legs, his hands trembling slightly as he supports his weight above you, his gaze never leaving yours.
As he slowly enters you, a rush of pleasure courses through your body. Inch by inch, he fills you, stretching you in the most delicious way. A low moan escapes your lips, the sensation overwhelming yet incredibly satisfying. Spencer’s eyes never leave yours, his expression transitioning from concentration to blissful surrender.
Once he’s fully inside you, he pauses, allowing you both to savor the feeling of being intimately connected. You run your hands over his back, sending shivers down his spine as you guide him to start moving. With each thrust, waves of pleasure crash through you, igniting a fire that burns brightly between you.
“Spencer,” you whisper breathlessly, your voice filled with need, “you feel amazing.”
He whimpers in response, his rhythm picking up as both your bodies move in perfect synchronization. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, a raw display of the passion simmering between you.
The room is filled with the sounds of your bodies colliding, the bed creaking in rhythm with your passionate movements. Spencer’s thrusts become deeper and more assertive, his movements guided by pure instinct and the desire to please you. He holds nothing back, giving himself to you completely.
“You’re so tight,” he groans, his voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and disbelief. “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”
You dig your nails into his back, urging him on. “Don’t hold back, Spencer,” you gasp, your voice laced with urgency. “Give it to me, all of it.”
Your hands roam his body, tracing the contours of his lean muscles, urging him on with every touch. His lips find yours in a desperate kiss, each one filled with a mixture of love, desire, and a hunger for more. The intensity of your connection drives you both toward the edge, pushing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy.
His thrusts become harder, deeper, and you cry out, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body. Pleasure builds within you, radiating outwards in waves, threatening to consume you entirely.
“I’m close, Spence,” you manage to utter, your voice strained. “I’m so close.”
He increases his pace, his movements becoming erratic as he chases his own release. You can feel the tension coil within him, the way he desperately clings onto the edge, on the verge of falling. And then, as if in perfect unison, the dam breaks. The pleasure crashes over you both, engulfing you in a tidal wave of ecstasy. You can’t help but let out a series of desperate whines and moans as you feel the warmth of his release filling you up as he pumps you full of him, coating your walls with his cum. You cling to each other, riding out the waves of your orgasms, the walls of your pussy convulsing around his cock, your bodies trembling with the intensity of it all.
Spencer collapses onto you, his weight pressing you further into the mattress. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close, basking in the afterglow of your shared intimacy. As your breaths finally steady, he lifts his head and gazes into your eyes, a tender smile playing on his lips.
“That was... beyond words,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and reverence. “I’ve never felt this connected to someone before.”
You stroke his cheek lovingly, your own smile mirroring his. “Me neither, Spence.”
He leans down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, pouring all his adoration and gratitude into it.
And as you both lie tangled in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth and intimacy you have just experienced, a feeling of contentment washes over you. It is a feeling you have longed for, a feeling of being truly seen and accepted by another person, and you know that for a long time that longing has been for Spencer and only Spencer.
“I am so grateful for you, Spence,” you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity.
Spencer’s eyes softened, his gaze locking with yours. “Thank you for being patient with me. Before meeting you I honestly never thought I could feel so comfortable and safe with anyone.”
Tears well up in your eyes. The depth of emotion in his words touches you deeply. You lean in to capture his lips in a tender kiss, a kiss filled with love and gratitude.
Spencer shifts, gently pulling out of you and sliding to your side. He scoops you into his arms, holding you close to his chest. The rise and fall of his breath against your skin is soothing, creating a sense of comfort and security on a level that you have never felt before.
You curl up against him, your head resting on his shoulder. “I’m so happy there only was one bed,” you whisper, the words spilling from your heart without hesitation. Spencer presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“Me too,” he reply, his voice filled with emotion.
Thank you for reading! If you feel like it, please leave a comment or reblog to let me know what you thought ♡
Summary: Scott Summers falling in love with a beautiful mutant girl -NSFW content warring
A/n: this won the poll! Please send request for x-men!
❤️MasterList ❤️Dating mood board
You were there for about 10 years before Scott was brought to the school whith bandages over his eyes. He was so scared to hurt anyone and you felt terrible.
Not to toot your own horn, but you made his first pair of ruby quartz glasses. You got help from your friend Hank McCoy in the Lab and created the red glasses he wears today.
Scott will never not be impressed with you. If you ask him he fell in love with you the moment he got to look at your through the glasses. “your Amazing”
It always bugs him that he can't see you and your natural colors, with his glasses everything is red.
Scott worked hard to win your heart. In to your adult years and your X-men years you guys wold always stare at each other with puppy eyes, but both parties were afraid to make the first move.
“your really falling for this girl, aren't you?” his brother Alex asked. “she's not just some girl”
Let me start off by saying that Scott has eyes for you and only you. Your confession had took a huge step back when Jean Grey started showing interest in Scott. She was everything you were insecure about and you often compared yourself to her in the worst way possible.
Scott never took a second glance at Jean, he wanted you. Jean knew that and it angered her, she wanted Scott to herself. Jean also knew you'd always be to shy to admit your feeling to Scott, so she used it to her advantage.
Scott wanted to tell you he loved you so bad, but he always felt you deserved better. He wanted you to have a guy that could look at you without red-tinted glasses, he wanted you to have someone who wasn't dangerous.
“you know, girls like her don't wait around forever” Xavier told him one day. “do you guys relize the affection you two share?”
Scott sighed, during that week you'd been avoiding him. He hated it and didn't know Jean had been pushing you guys apart without you realizing it. Scott looked down. “she deserves the world, Professor”
“if you want her to have the world tell her how you feel. Because to her you are the world” Xavier told him”
He will always regret telling you how he felt because of the situation you were in. It was a mission gone wrong which resulted you staying in the med-bay in the mansion. Scott never left your bed side. His heart pounded with anxiety the longer you layed in bed unresponsive.
The next morning you woke up with him holding your hand and his head on your lap. You were relived to see him and it made your heart flutter that he stayed with you. You gently ruffled his hair, waking him up.
He woke up and tears pricked his eyes as relief washed over him. He cupped your face gently and pressed his forehead to yours. He was shaking so much. “your okay... Please don't ever leave me”
He looked into your eyes and took a deep breath. You don't know how bad he wanted to see your natural eye color and not just see the red tint from his glasses. “I love you... Everything about you amazes me, your everything to me”
“I love you more” you smiled softly. You shared your first kiss that night, this kiss was so gentle but held so many years of bottled up tension and emotions. He held you carefully, like as if you were made of glass and his kisses were driven by so much relief and unconditional love.
That's what you too shared, unconditional love.
Scott's so gentle with you. Deep down he's scared you'll break or scared he'll somehow end up hurting you with his mutation, that's his worst fear. His always so gentle and loving with you.
He loves your mutation, he thinks you look badass and sexy when you use it. Your mutation is the power to conger up blue fire in your palms.
He'll only call you beautiful or gorgeous. He feel like you deserve a compliment better than sexy or hot. He always makes sure you know how beautiful you are.
He's big on hand holding too, if your walking around the city your hands will be locked together, or sometimes hell just hold your had if your setting down at a table or something.
He holds your hand whenever he can, that his way of showing off that your his girl.
He's rough in bed, but a gentle kisser. The gentlest kisses he gives out it is in the early hours of morning before you get up to teach your classes.
Yes, you both are teachers at Xavier's school. Yall never left that damn place. He's the engineering and self defense teacher while your the English and creative writing teacher.
He loves leaving red roses on your desk all the time. That's one of his love languages.
He's always afraid of hurting you, especially with his mutation. But you trust him enough to even take off his glasses to see his full face, he still get scared and keeps his eyes shut tight. “It’s okay. You’re not gonna hurt me,” you whispered. You leaned forward slowly, careful to his face. You kissed the part of his forehead, just above his left eye. Then the right.
This man need physical contact a lot. He's a big cuddler and just needs you in his arms, it's a comfort and a protection thing.
He also loves teasing you and getting you all flustered. He thinks it's the cutest thing in the world when you blush after a compliment or if he kisses you.
“I can't concentrate when you do that” you laughed. He was standing behind you while his hands moved around you. “doing what?” he said, kissing your neck.
By the way, this man is extremely protective of you. It doesn't matter if your on a mission with the rest of the X-men or just out getting groceries. Your protection and safety is his main priority.
He's so afraid of losing you, your the best thing that's ever happened to him and he doesn't want to screw it up. Of course he doesn't have to worry about that.
God, this man loves everything about you. You have a couple of tattoos, he wants to know about them. It doesn't matter what type of hair you have or if you like it or not, he loves it. He'll love your voice, body, personality... Everything.
If your in bed he'll always have his arms around you. Rather your the little spoon or your on his chest. But sometimes if his day is rough he'd want to be the little spoon. His favorite feeling in the world is your arms around him and your fingers running through his hair.
He also loves it when you curl up on his lap and a cuddle to his chest. It the best feeling to him, especially on your way home on the X-jet after a long mission.
You call him everything but Scott. Usually its Scotty, honey, or Sweetheart.
He loves calling you Baby or Angel. And he always refers to you as 'his girl'. No mater if your his wife or girlfriend, your gonna get called 'his girl'
You love listening to old rock music together. If it's just the two of you he'll sing with you and on the occasion you can convince him to dance with you.
Your Favorite singer to listen to is Meatloaf. Your song is definitely 'you took the words right out of my mouth'
You love riding on the back of his motorcycle. He loves feeling your arms wrapped around him and holding on to him while he drives.
Like I said before he's super over protective, so if your on the back of his motorcycle he's driving more careful than he ever has before. If he's by himself he'll drive at an unsafe speed and pop a couple of wheels, but if your with him he's carful as hell.
He'll also teach you how to ride one. He was so excited when you asked him to teach you.
He refuses to sleep unless you have fallen asleep first, he just needs to know your okay before he can have a good night sleep.
If your cold you'll steal his leather jackets, or you'll sleep in his old dress shirts. Also if the sun is brighter than usual you'll steal his spare ruby quartz glasses and used them as sunglasses.
Hell always remind you how beautiful you are. If you feel insecure about your self he's there to kiss you and tell you how amazing you are.
NSFW headcanons:
He's the most loving person during sex, hell he is all the time. He'll also try his best to make it as romantic as possible, if not he's always holding you close and kissing you so you know how much he loves you.
But he also doesn't mind being rough with you. If you push the right buttons, you'll be under him screaming his name as the headboard of the bed bangs against the wall.
There's also a tone of jealous sex. If he sees Logan shamelessly flirting with you expected to be tied to bed as fucks your brains out. If he sees Hank touch you in a way thats reserved only for him you’re pinned against the wall.
Bondeg kink. Handcuffs, belts, he'll tie you up with anything if your comfortable with it.
he'll bit you in the heat of the moment. He loves marking you up.
Dispite him being mostly rough in bed and pushes you to the point of screaming, he'll be so soft and gentle in the end. “you did so good for my baby, I wasn’t too rough was I? I didn't hurt you did I?”
One of his biggest kink is cumming inside you, seeing you filled up just makes him go crazy.
he loves grabbing you by the hips, literally squeezing his fingertips against your soft skin, holding you in the place or using them to help guide the pace.
If you want to take a shower and get cleaned up, Scott will lift you up in his arms and carry you to shower, he'll hold you safe and will be extremely gentle with your sensitive body.
Has a soft spot for sex in the shower, he loves holding you up against the wall, roughly while he drives his cock into you.
He love getting head. He loves the feeling of towering over you while he has you on your knees. Plus, feeling your lips around him pushes him closer to cumming in your mouth.
Loves eating you out, your legs around his head. He loves your legs and thighs in general and loves leaving kisses on the insides of your thighs. He'd rather pleasure you for hours than receive.
He's a boob and ass man, He’ll push your bra up and take a nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirls all around while he squeezes your ass, pulling you closer to his body. He loves it when you start moaning and tugging at his hair, He honestly can’t get enough.
He loves hearing you moan. If you try to hold back or even muffle them when it's unnecessary, he'd put an end to it. “Don't hold back baby, let me hear you”
For aftercare, He will spend an exorbitant amount of time just kissing you, slowly and deeply, as he massages your thighs and hips. It's his way to calm you down and bringing you back to reality.
Hi there! It's me :"> again I read that you're closing your request soon and I just want to put another in before the deadline haha But by no mean you should put more pressure on yourself please take all the time you need, I'm always here happily waiting while enjoy reading all of the fabulous writing you had for other requests <3 Much love to your work <3
I have a request for s smut fic when the BAU was called in for a case: the victims were workers at the local bars/restaurants, the bau!reader recognised one of the bars the unsub frequently target is the one she used to work at as bartender/mixologist while putting herself through school and asked to be the undercover while other agents supervise. After successfully closing the case, the BAU decided to celebrate at said bar and the owner was happy to let the reader personally make your friends any cocktails outside of the menu.
The reader then learned about all the mildly irritations and possessive feelings softdom!Spencer had while watching people hitting on you behind the bar, but all of that can be solved with a (almost criminally) 3-sugar-cube level of sweet of a cocktail the reader personally made for him hiding an ungodly amount of alcohol which made the night a lot more interesting ;)
I'm sorry if all of my requests are soo long I know you want to have as much details as possible but please lemme know if you feel like it's too much haha Happy writing!! :">
A/N: Thank you for your request! I was partly inspired by this post to help me out with some of the drinks orders, so go check it out for more character headcannoms!
Warnings: NSFW, soft dom! Spencer, spanking, semi-public sex, jealousy, slight breeding kink/ creampie, thigh fucking etc. 18+ Minors DNI
It had been a good few years since you quit the bartending job that put you through college, so you didn't realise just how much you'd missed it.
You thought it was the universe intervening when a case popped up in your college town, and the bar you'd spent every weekend in for nearly three years straight from the end of your undergrad to the first years of your masters degree was at the dead centre of Spencer Reid's geographical profile.
You knew the unsub had been hunting from bars, and it took only a few nights of surveillance to catch his scent, and one more of a simple cover to get the guy.
You'd taken up your spot once again, slipping easily back into making cocktails and pouring pints of beer on tap - a skill you were regretfully slow to learn but happy to see stayed with you even in your brief retirement.
You busted the bar while your coworkers tried to look inconspicuous sitting around as customers. Diligently, you served them mocktails and alcohol free beer ad regulars clapped you on the back, greeting you like an old friend as you worked to catch a killer.
JJ was the bait, and you were glad, for once, that it wasn't you, even if that thought made you feel guilty. She slipped out with a crash, and all eyed were on the man that followed her quietly to the alleyway out back.
He practically arrested himself. All in all, it had taken maybe three days to catch the guy, and you'd never been so happy to have had to work a double shift to do it.
“Y/N, if this FBI thing doesn't work for you, I'd be glad to have you back behind the bar. These college students just aren't what they used to be.” Your ex-boss grinned at you, indulging in his own glass of whiskey now that the case was closed.
He'd graciously invited your entire team to spend the rest of the evening at the bar celebrating (for at least a drink or two before his wife came to collect him). You were shocked when Hotch took him up on the offer, but happily stayed behind the bar mixing up the drinks.
“Okay, now that we've found out you're this magic mixologist, you have got to make us personal cocktails. I want to see how drunk you can get me, Y/L/N.” Emily laughed from the corner, finishing the last dregs of her virgin piña colada.
“My dear Emily, it is not the mixologist job to get you drunk, it's the mixologist job to keep you sober for as long as possible so you keep buying drinks.”
“No, come on kid, I'm intrigued as well. I'm not a cocktail guy but you've been pouring like a woman possessed tonight. Help.me out here, Spencer, hasn't she been on fire?”
Spencer's eye caught yours and your heart skipped a beat when he gave you a small smile. He'd been quiet all night, and you felt a little regretful that you'd made him stay so long in a place he wasn't entirely comfortable with. But he was still here, and surprisingly, still drinking, nursing the beer that your old boss had served them all when they'd returned from the crime scene.
“Mixology is an interesting field of study. When you think about it, it's practically chemistry.”
“I like to think of it as alchemy,” you grinned at him, enjoying the way he could turn anything into something more complicated and mathematical than it is. “Because one sip of one of my cocktails will have you thinking you've unlocked the secret of immortality.”
“Okay, if that's how drunk we're getting tonight then I'm calling home now,” JJ laughed standing from her chair and already dialling the numbers.
“Okay - here we go.” You grabbed the bottle of vodka from the counter and started, keeping your eyes focused on Reid as much as you could.
–X–
After two hours and about 5 rounds of cocktails, you'd nearly defeated the entire team. Your ex-boss had thrown you the keys half an hour earlier and called himself a cab, leaving you behind to close up just like old times.
Hotchner and Rossi had given in after two drinks each, apparently old and wise enough to know just how much alcohol was in an Old Fashioned and a Negroni each.
“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” Emily had mocked them on the way out, but two drinks later and she was asleep in the back of a cab having been carried out by both JJ and Morgan.
You'd used the good gin in her Aviation cocktail, and it was only a matter of time before she ended up peacefully sleeping the week away.
The only member of the team left standing was, surprisingly again, Spencer.
You'd gone simple with his Espresso Martini, though you'd made a big show and dance about adding twice as much brown sugar syrup than the recipe required.
“A sweet cocktail for the man who drinks the sweetest coffee known to man.” He'd brushed his hand across your fingers every time you'd passed him a refill, and you'd felt the familiar jolts of anticipation pass through you with each shared glance.
Your old boss had even noticed that you were ‘sweet on that little coworker of yours,’ and you'd had to do your best to stop yourself from openly flirting with him whilst he was sat there at the bar.
You'd done it for tips every single shift, not caring about the consequences, buy with Spencer, you so desperately wanted there to be consequences that you never so much as tried.
“We should pack up and head home, Spence.” You said, cleaning up the final glass of Mai Tai Derek had left behind, but when you turned around to see him, he was gone.
More accurately, he'd moved to your side of the bar and was sliding his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you in.
You gasped his name like a prayer, not expecting his cold fingers to curl under your shirt as he buried his head in your shoulder.
“Spencer! What's… what are…”
“Let me hold you.” He didn't say much more than that, but he didn't need to say more. You'd already.relaxed into his touch, eyes shutting so you could focus on the feel of his skin against yours.
“You're good at this,” he mumbled, words slightly slurred. “Everyone was watching you, they all wanted you to pour their drinks.”
You listened to each word of his voice fighting off confusion. Who was everybody? There hadn't been another customer in the bar since you'd made the arrest.
“The old men in the corner, they looked down your top when you picked something up for them. I heard them talking about it, how they thought about stuffing a couple of one's right here,” his hand trailed up to your breasts and you gasped, “like you were some stripper.”
His hands were slowly caressing you as he stood, chest pressed against your back, and you felt desire flood between your legs.
“Spencer, you're drunk, we should get you back to the motel.”
“My blood alcohol level should be around 0.11, so yes, legally I am drunk. If you want me back at the motel, be my guest, but I don't think I can keep my hands off of you tonight, Y/N.”
His words were blunt, delivered the same way he usually talked about case details, or books he'd read. There was nothing in it to indicate he'd meant to turn your world upside down just like that.
His hand had moved under your bra now, and you snapped back to reality, grabbing his hand and halting his movements momentarily as you craned your neck to look at him.
“Spencer, you're not in your right mind, you're going to regret this-” you didn't get to finish the sentence as he cut you off, pushing his lips into yours softly. With each second, his passion grew, until the two of you were caught in a battle of tongues, saliva dripping down your chin as you cared about nothing else but the pleasure you found in each other's mouths.
“The only thing,” he whispered between kisses. “That I'm going to regret, is if I let you walk me out of that door without showing you how much I want to possess every inch of you.”
His words were insistent but there was a question hidden in his movements. He'd withdrawn slightly, giving you enough space to turn him down should you want to.
You didn't.
Instead, you let a hand run up the back of his neck to his hair until you were pulling him down into you, stepping back into the warmth of his broad chest as you opened up to him.
Your other hand relinquished his, letting him explore your chest further and doing much of the same as you tried your very best to twist in your spot to get a better hold of him.
He was holding firm though, despite everything he'd drank, and had pushed you once again against the counter, hand moving between exploring your ass cheeks, and placing your hand firmly underneath you on the table so you could stabilise your position.
He worked his lips down your neck, prying your other hand out of his hair and placing it parallel to the first, before pulling your hips back slightly and encouraging you to arch your back.
You only realised you'd assumed a position for spanking when the first blow landed on your ass.
It was soft, all things considered, and he was still busy bruising your neck that you almost thought you'd imagined it.
The next one was harder though. It was real.
“Spencer!” You gasped as he stroked a hand over your asscheeks.
“Shhhhhhhh s'okay. You have a beautiful ass, I'm just making it prettier.”
His hands fumbled over your pants zipper, and then pulled them down to your knees as he continued stroking your ass and licking your neck.
The material limited your movements, trapping your knees together as he delivered one more blow. The skin to skin contact was too much and you let out a sinful moan, surprised at how loud you were suddenly managing to be.
You'd never been spanked before, never even thought about it, but something about Spencer's hands on you, the lingering scent of alcohol in the air had every hair on your body standing in excitement.
You heard Spencer unzip his own pants and were a little regretful that you didn't get the honour. You wanted to see him hold him in your hand, take him into your mouth and play with him until you knew just how he worked. But your back was still to him, and he wasn't giving you the space you needed to turn around and catch a glimpse.
“Every man in this bar tonight wanted to be where I am right now,” he whispered into your hair as he kissed the crown of your head, and then pushed your panties aside and ran himself along the lips of your cunt.
It was a night of sounds - the zippers, his whispers, your moans - bit you still weren't expecting to be able to hear your arousal.
It was erotic, near pornographic how wet his spanking had made you, and he let out small groans of appreciation as he gathered your juices on his cock.
He didn't try to breech you just yet, but rocked his cock between your thighs and cunt, teasing you just enough to keep you hooked, but nowhere near where you needed him to get you.
“Every man who was in here wanted you, and I got you. Right?” He asked again, practically rutting against your cunt.
“Y-Yes, Spencer.”
“Yes, sir.” He corrected, and you gasped as his hand struck your ass again, dangerously close to where his hips joined yours.
“Yes, sir.”
“Be a good girl for me, baby. I want to take care of you.”
With those words, he lined the tip of his cock up with your entrance and slipped in.
With your knees still locked in place by your pants, it was really up to Spencer to control the pace. You didn't spare a second for the thought that had you been completely naked with a better range of motion that he still wouldn't relinquish this quiet control of you.
With one hand on your hip, and the other curled around to reach your clit as you arched your back against him, it wasn't long before he was setting a vigorous pace.
It wasn't that he was thrusting particularly fast, or that he was doing it ridiculously hard, like some men who knew no better tried. It was the combination of how far he was able to reach with his careful concentration on your pleasure.
You felt him speed up once before quickly drawing himself back to the even tempo, doing his best to not get lost in you.
His fingers traced your cunt in a slow figure eight as first, before experimenting with different movements, shapes, words until he'd been rewarded by your cunt clenching around his cock as you came all over it.
You gasped in shock, and flushed, so shocked it took only that long.
Instead of congratulating himself on getting you off though, he used your orgasm to inform himself of what you liked, what you so desperately needed from his fingers and his cock.
And most importantly, he didn't stop.
Even as your body twitched and spasmed around his cock, he kept up his wrist movements, keeping your body warmed up as he finally took his turn.
“Tell me how much you want this,” he whispered into your ear.
“I want this so badly, Sir, I need your cock pumping in and- ahhh out of me.”
“Tell me how nice my cock feels,” he again ordered and you willingly obeyed.
“Your cock is perfect, it's so big and warm, like it was made just for me.”
“Good girl, now tell me how much you want me to shoot my cum inside of you.”
Your mouth went dry as you choked out a moan, his pace getting rougher and rougher with each thrust. You hadn't heard him correctly, surely, your brain was imagining things.
But he prompted you with a slight tap to your face, a slap that wouldn't leave any mark.
“You don't want my cum all over this bar, do you? It would be a shame for your ex boss to fail his hygiene inspection.”
“Cum in me! God, please cum in me.”
He gripped you tight around your waist as he finally pushed himself over the edge, filling you with his seed and keeping you pinned in his arms until he was sure that none of it would escape.
“I'm glad you agreed, because I wasn't asking,” he said, chest still slightly heaving as he rode out his orgasm, lower body twitching in its sensitivity.
When he finally did pull out, he'd spent so long inside you, cockwarming, that not much of his cum slipped out. He cleaned you up with a clean dishcloth you pointed to on the counter, and pulled your pants back up, quickly manoeuvring his up too.
After a brief moment of silence, you finally turned to look at him, melting into his arms again as you took in his fucked out expression.
He stroked your head quietly for a few minutes, before pulling back from your hug.
Hi Sage! I was so happy when I saw you are gonna write for criminal minds! Can I request some soft smut with Spencer? Maybe his and reader’s first time together, they have to share a bed on a case or something like that. I love your writing so much and I would love to see how you’d write Spence ❤️ thank you for sharing your writing!!
𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ♡
Thank you so much for the sweet words and the lovely request dear anon! ♡ I had such a good time writing this, and I can't wait to write more for Spencer!
Spencer Reid x afab!reader || Masterlist || Spencer playlist
summary: Having to share a room with one of your fellow BAU agents is not an uncommon occurrence, and that agent being Spencer is not new either. The two of you have roomed together on multiple occasions before, but all previous instances have been different from this one. In all those prior cases, you both had separate beds, but not this time.
word count: 7.3k
warning/tags: Smut! (18+, mdni!) Mutual pining. Friends/colleagues to lovers. Idiots in love. Slightly awkward. A hint of angst, but mostly just fluff. Nightmares. Wet dreams. Inexperienced (but not virgin) Spencer. Vaginal fingering. Unprotected p in v. Creampie. I haven’t had time to proofread so sorry if there’s any mistakes.
In many ways the room is about as ordinary as any small town hotel room can be. However, one aspect instantly catches your attention upon opening the door - the room only has one bed…
As you step further into the room, you exchange a bewildered glance with Spencer, both unsure of how to proceed. It is a big bed, more than enough room for the both of you to be able to sleep comfortably next to each other, but despite how good of friends you and Spencer are, something about it feels weirdly intimate.
Having to room with one of your fellow BAU agents on cases is not uncommon, and sharing a room with Spencer isn’t new either. The two of you have roomed together on multiple occasions before, but previous instances were distinct from this one. In all those prior times, you both had separate beds.
“I, uhm… I can sleep on the floor,” Spencer suggests tentatively, breaking the silence that had filled the room. His voice is hesitant, almost as if he’s apprehensive about suggesting such a thing.
You look at him, noticing the slight blush on his cheeks as he avoids eye contact. It is clear that he doesn’t want to inconvenience you or make you feel uncomfortable by overstepping any boundaries.
But there is absolutely no way that you’re going to let Spencer sleep on the cold, hard floor, especially after a long day of chasing down an UnSub. “You’re not sleeping on the floor, Spence,” you protest, shaking your head gently. “There is more than enough room on the bed; we can put some pillows between us if that’ll make you more comfortable,” you suggest. You can see his apprehension, his discomfort at the idea of encroaching on your personal space.
In a way it’s very sweet, you know Spencer well, and you know how little he would enjoy lying on the floor, yet he is willing to give up his own comfort for you.
But at the same time you can’t help but feel a little pang of… Of what exactly you’re not sure. Disappointment maybe, or even longing? And a little irrational fear that maybe he actually finds sleeping next to you so uncomfortable that he would prefer the floor.
You have tried to suppress your feelings for Spencer for a long time, you have had a crush on him from the moment you first joined the BAU three years ago, but the more you got to know him, and the deeper your friendship deepend the deeper your feelings for him also grew.
You know that you’re being irrational, but you can’t help but wonder if Spencer actually feels uncomfortable by the idea of sharing a bed with you or if it’s something else entirely. As you continue to stare at him, hoping for a clue, Spencer nervously fidgets with the strap of his bag which he still hasn’t put down.
“Sure, pillows…” he finally speaks, his voice trailing off. You can tell he’s hesitant, it’s clear that the idea of sharing a bed with you is not something he had anticipated or prepared for.
You take a step closer to Spencer, trying to ease the tension that has settled between you. “Spencer, it’s going to be okay. We’ve slept in the same room many times before, remember? This is just a little different, but I’ll promise to stay on my side of the bed,” you assure him, offering a small smile.
Spencer glances over at you, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before he takes a deep breath andnodding slowly as he finally sets his bag down and starts to remove his jacket. His movements are deliberate, almost mechanical, as if he’s trying to distract himself from the tension in the room. Lost in your thoughts, you find yourself stealing glances at him. You watch his every movement, wondering if there’s more to his unease than just sharing a bed. As he hangs his jacket neatly on the back of a chair, you can’t help but notice the way his fingers tremble ever so slightly.
“Do you want the bathroom first?” you ask, trying to break the silence and bring some normalcy back into the situation. Spencer looks up at you, his eyes reflecting gratitude for the distraction.
“Uh, yeah, that sounds good,” he replies, his voice slightly shaky. He walks past you towards the bathroom, his steps quick and purposeful.
While he’s in the bathroom, you take a moment to collect your thoughts, as you start to take out your pajamas and toiletries from your bag before going over to the bed, placing a few pillows in a row in the middle of the mattress. The tension in the room is palpable, and you can’t help but wonder if there’s something more going on with Spencer. You’ve always had a strong connection with him, but lately, there have been moments when you’ve sensed a shift in his behavior towards you. It’s hard to put into words, but there’s a certain longing and vulnerability that seems to surface whenever you’re together.
As you ponder these thoughts, Spencer emerges from the bathroom. He’s changed into his pajamas, checkered flannel bottoms and a long sleeved cotton t-shirt, his hair damp from his shower. You can’t help but notice how adorable he looks. There is something so soft looking over him like this, almost domestic and your heart skips a beat.
“Your turn,” he says softly, gesturing towards the bathroom. You nod and make your way inside, trying to steady your own racing heart.
The warm water from the shower helps to calm your nerves, but your mind is still filled with questions. What if there’s a chance that Spencer feels the same way? What if this shared bed situation could bring you closer together?
You finish your shower and step out, wrapping a towel around yourself. As you reach for your pajamas, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm and not let your emotions get the best of you, yes you have developed feelings for Spencer but first and foremost he is your friend and, and you can’t start assuming things. He is allowed to find sharing a bed with you awkward.
When you return to the room, Spencer is already tucked into one side of the bed, the one closest to the door, his back turned towards you, and you can’t help but notice that he is far closer to the edge of the mattress than he needs to be. The only light in the room now coming from the bedside lamp on the side of the bed that has been assigned to you by Spencer.
You quietly slip into your side, letting the heavy comforter cover your body as you lay down on your back, looking over at Spencer’s back for a short moment before looking back up into the ceiling.
The proximity between you is both exhilarating and nerve-wracking, as you lie there, so close to each other yet so far away. You take a deep breath before you break the silence once again. “Ready to turn off the light?”
Spencer shifts slightly, his voice barely above a whisper as he responds, “Yeah, sure.” You reach over and switch off your lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The only source of light now is the faint glow of moonlight coming shining through the blinds.
As you lay there, your mind starts to wander, replaying all the moments you’ve shared with Spencer over the years. The late-night conversations, the shared laughter, the times he’s been there for you when you needed someone the most. Each memory fills you with a mixture of warmth and longing.
“Good night, Spence,” you utter softly into the darkness,
“Night,” he replies, his voice barely audible in the quiet space and the room falls silent once again.
You let out the softest of sighs as you close your eyes, finally letting yourself feel how tired you really are, slowly letting yourself try to surrender to sleep.
· · ·
It’s still dark in the room as you wake up, only an hour or two have passed since you fell asleep, and for just about half a second you get to wonder what had woken you so abruptly before the reason becomes clear to you.
It is Spencer who woke you. In the dimly lit room, his agitated body twists and contorts restlessly next to you. You turn around so you’re facing him, propping yourself up on your elbow so you’re slightly hovering over him, the darkness of the room shadowing his face, but as your eyes get used to the dark you notice the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, his eyebrows knitted and his breathing erratic and shallow.
Unintelligible, fearful murmurs escape his lips, carrying traces of an impending terror. With a gentle touch, you place your hand on his shoulder, hoping to offer some comfort as you try to gently pull him out of his nightmare.
“Spencer,” you say softly. “Spencer, wake up.”
His eyes fly open, wide with fear, his gaze darting around for a second or two, before they lock with yours which seems to calm him down a little. -
“I’m sorry, I woke you,” he mutters, his rapid breathing slowly coming under control.
“Spence, it’s okay, I get them too,” you remind him. “We all do.”
“I-I know… this one was just so real…” Spencer takes a moment, his brows knitted as if he’s contemplating whether to share the details or simply let the disturbing dream fade away. “You were there,” he finally says, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I couldn’t get to you in time, I-I kept running but I didn’t get any closer a-and…” but then he stops, like he can’t get himself to continue.
You feel how your heart clenches at his words, he had a nightmare about you…
“Well, I’m right here, and I’m okay,” you reassure him, offering a soft smile before you place a gentle hand on his shoulder as if to emphasize your statement, hoping to offer some comfort.
He places his own hand on top of yours, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“You think you can go back to sleep?” you ask him as you finally remove your hand from his shoulder.
“Yeah, I think so,” he says and the two of you both lay back down on the mattress, but a short silence falls over the room before Spencer speaks again. “Would it be okay if we removed the pillows?”
“Of course,” you whisper back, removing the pillows. There is still a decent gap between you, but the cushioned wall is now gone. You yearn to close the gap, wanting to reach out for him, to comfort him with an embrace, but you just stay on your side of the bed. This can be enough, you can live with just being his friend, despite how your heart yearns for more.
“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, now laying on his back instead of facing away from you like last time you said goodnight.
“Goodnight,” you whisper back, “and, Spence?” you add.
“Yeah?”
“Remember you can always talk to me if you need it, I know how it feels.”
A beat of silence. “Yeah, I know, and thank you, it’s really nice to know that.”
You let out a soft sigh as you finally close your eyes again. “Of course, that is what friends are for.”
“Yeah, friends…” he mumbles, so low you barely hear it.
But you do hear it, and you ponder over it a little as you again begin to slowly drift off to sleep, and as you find yourself in the liminal space between wakefulness and slumber. Each breath you take seems to synchronize with Spencer’s soft breathing. In the darkness, your thoughts become even more encompassed by the draw you feel towards him, the yearning to hold him, to be held by him.
Suddenly, you feel a shift in the bed, and your heart skips a beat. Did Spencer just move closer to you? You open your eyes to find him curled up, facing your direction. His features softened, no longer affected by his nightmare, but now relaxed in sleep. It takes all of your willpower not to reach out and touch his tousled curls, to trace the contours of his face.
But you don’t. You don’t want to risk jeopardizing the friendship you share. As much as you yearn for more, you’re determined not to overstep any boundaries.
With a heavy sigh, you turn away from Spencer, facing the wall instead. Your emotions are in disarray, swirling within you like a tempestuous storm. The closeness you currently have, even if it’s just a hair’s breadth away, feels agonizingly bittersweet.
As you drift closer to sleep, nestled in the comfort of the bed, you feel a sense of contentment and tranquility. Despite the uncertainty and longing, there is solace in the silent presence of Spencer beside you. And for now, that is enough.
· · ·
You are stirred from sleep once again later in the night. This time, it is a gradual, more peaceful transition into consciousness. A sense of warmth and snugness engulfing you, making you fill with a sense of complete safety and comfort, your eyes still closed and your mind still groggy from sleep.
As you slowly emerge from your drowsy state, it takes a moment for you to identify the source of your comfort. As time passes, and you’re pulled enough out of your sleepy daze you start to become aware of the gentle movements against your body, and you start to perceive the muffled sounds emanating from beside you, and confusion is washing over you for a short moment before you remember where you are. Remembering that you’re in a hotel room in a small town in Nebraska, a hotel room which you’re sharing with Spencer, a hotel room that only has one bed…
Your eyes flutter open as Spencer’s arms squeeze you a little tighter, your back is pressed up against his chest and your legs are tangled under the warm covers. His steady breath gently fan the back of your neck, his lips ghosting over your skin, grazing just over your pulse point.
And it is now, as you are being pressed tight up against him, that you feel it. How he gently is rocking against you. How the outline of his hard cock is pressing against the curve of your ass. You let out a faint gasp, as a warm shiver runs through you right down to your now throbbing cunt.
Your heart skips a beat, overwhelmed by the intensity of this unexpected intimacy from Spencer. You are not completely sure what to do, what Spencer would prefer you to do in this situation. There is no way you’re gonna be able to wiggle out of his embrace without risking waking him. You should probably wake him, right?
You can’t believe that this is really happening, that you really are in this position with Spencer right now. But you know that you can’t read too much into it, that people just get wet dreams sometimes, that this is just a physical reaction. He didn’t even want to share the bed with you in the first place, and you were the one who insisted on it. As much as you dread having to face him in this position, you really should wake him.
You know Spencer, you know that he will feel embarrassed when you wake him, but it will be nowhere near as bad as the betrayal he will feel if he finds out that you didn’t stop this.
Taking a deep breath, you start to gently nudge Spencer awake, careful not to startle him. “Spencer,” you say gently, slightly wiggling in his embrace as you try to face him. “Spencer, wake up.”
As he stirs, his eyes flutter open, and he looks at you with a mixture of confusion and sleepiness, before a look of absolute horror overtakes his face, his eyes filling with panic. His embrace immediately loosens, and he quickly pulls away from you. The distance between your bodies, making you feel a sudden pang of emptiness as he bolts off the bed.
“I- I’m so sorry,” he stutters, his voice frantic. “I don't know what came over me. This isn’t... I didn’t mean to…” His words trail off, and he looks utterly mortified.
“Spence, it’s okay,” you try to reassure him, watching as he begins to pace back and forth in the small room, and start to gather his belongings, his eyes darting around the room anxiously, as if searching for an escape. “Spencer?” you try again, hoping to bring him back from the edge of his spiraling thoughts. You get out of the bed, your bare feet hitting the cold floorboards.
But Spencer doesn’t seem to even hear you, he just grabs his bag and starts stuffing his belongings inside, his movements frantic and uncoordinated. “I-I’ll leave,” he begins, his voice strained with guilt and embarrassment.
“Spencer, please,” you say softly, stepping around the bed to get to him. “You don’t have to leave.”
He is halfway through the bathroom door by now, his bag dropping from his shoulder. Tears are pooling in his eyes, his expression tortured. “I can’t stay,” he says, his voice quivering. “I made you uncomfortable...”
“Spence,” you try again, now standing only a few steps from him.
“No… I made you uncomfortable, and I-I’m so sorry, I just- I mean- or no, I didn’t mean…” he begins to ramble before giving up and burying his face in his hands.
Your heart aches at his words, at the pain in his eyes. You never wanted this to happen, never wanted to make him feel like this. “Spence, you could never make me uncomfortable” you say, trying to keep your voice as steady and comforting as you can, your heart thumping loudly in your chest.
“You don’t have to say that,” he begins, but you cut him off before he can start spiraling even more than he already is.
“I do, Spence, cause it’s true. You haven’t made me uncomfortable, okay?” you need him to believe you, you are colleagues and you’ll have to see each other everyday, but also, and more importantly, he is your friend and he means so much to you, you just can’t lose him. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I promise. Please, look at me.”
You take a step closer to Spencer, reaching out for him, gently placing your hand on his trembling shoulder. Sensing the depth of his distress, you speak softly, attempting to soothe him further, and he finally looks at you, his damp eyes filled with shame and embarrassment.
“I... I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he stammers, his voice shaky. “I never wanted to make you uncomfortable or take advantage of you. I don’t even know why I…”
You interrupt him gently, placing a hand on his cheek to bring his attention back to you. “Spencer, listen to me. It’s alright.”
He searches your eyes, seeking reassurance. A moment passes before he finally speaks. “Are you sure it’s alright?” vulnerability shining through his words.
“Yes, Spence… It’s alright,” you feel sad, because as selfish as it is, you do wish your words weren’t true, wish that it did mean something, but you have to ignore that for now. It’s not fair to be selfish right now, what you need is to comfort Spencer and reassure him that it’s okay. You have to ignore how good it felt to feel him against your body, having him grinding against you, having his lean arms around you…
“What happened... It was just a physical reaction and I don’t hold it against you. I know you didn’t mean for it to happen, and it’s not like you can control your dreams,” you offer him a small smile, one that you hope will convince him that you mean what you’re saying, but it feels bittersweet as you say your next words. “I know it didn’t mean anything.”
Spencer’s shoulders visibly slump as he absorbs your words. He still looks deeply conflicted, but your reassurance seems to have calmed him down slightly. “That’s not true…” he murmurs, he sounds unsure, almost shy as he says it, yet there is a determination flickering in his hazel brown eyes.
That’s not true..? You wonder if he is going to disagree with your statement about not being able to control dreams and launch into an extensive explanation of the technicalities of lucid dreaming, but what he says instead makes your heart flutter and fills you with a sense of hope. “It did mean something,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your breath catches in your throat at his words. The room feels charged with tension, the air thick with uncertainty. You take a step closer to him, your hand still resting gently on his cheek. “Spencer, what do you mean?” you ask, your voice soft and filled with curiosity. And a realization courses through your body, he didn’t just have a wet dream, he had a wet dream about you…
He takes a deep breath, his eyes locked with yours. “You mean so much to me. My dreams, my nightmares, my…” he trails off, a pink blush spreading across his cheeks, my wet dreams, his blush is telling. “My waking thoughts, they always end up being about you.”
You feel your heart swell, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling within you. Spencer’s words hang in the air, leaving you momentarily breathless. Unable to contain your own feelings any longer. You close the last distance between you, so close that you now can feel the heat radiating from his body, your hand sliding from his cheek to the back of his neck. Your touch is gentle, craving a connection, desperate to convey your own emotions. “Spencer,” you whisper, your voice filled with a tenderness you can no longer hide. “It’s the same for me.”
Spencer’s eyes widen in surprise, his breath hitching in his throat. It takes a moment for his words to find their way back to him. “You...you feel the same way?” he says, almost breathlessly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of deception. “You’re not just saying this to make me feel better?”
You shake your head, your voice filled with sincerity. “No. I wouldn’t say this if I didn’t mean it.”
Relief floods his features, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. His pretty, pretty lips which look so soft and so damn kissable… “Oh…” is all he manages to say, his voice filled with soft gentle wonder.
You can see how the weight is slowly lifting off of his shoulders, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of relief and happiness. He reaches out to take your free hand in his. He moves his other hand to your waist, at first not fully committing to the touch, his fingers gently ghosting over your pajamas, but with a soft smile of encouragement from you he gently places his palm against you, and his touch sends a wave of warmth through your body.
The room seems to shrink, the world outside becoming distant and irrelevant. At this moment, it’s like the two of you are the only two people left on this earth. Spencer’s lips part slightly, as if he wants to say something more, but the words remain trapped in his throat. Instead, he leans in, his breath mingling with yours, and then, his lips brush against yours in the softest, most tentative of kisses.
It’s a moment of pure vulnerability, and raw emotion. The kiss is a little hesitant at first yet filled with longing. The warmth of his lips against yours creates an electric current that surges through your entire body, igniting a fire within you. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him, as if he never wants to let you go. The possessiveness in his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself losing all sense of restraint.
In this moment, the world outside doesn’t matter. All that matters is the connection between you and Spencer, the warmth that courses through your veins with every touch and every kiss. You feel how heat is pooling in your stomach.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, lightly tugging on the wavy strands, making him gently moan into the kiss as your other hand finds its way to his face, caressing his cheeks as if trying to convey all the feelings you have bottled up inside.
The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate and desperate, as if both of you have been longing for this moment for far too long. It’s a dance of tongues and teeth, a melding of souls, and you can’t help but lose yourself in the sensations. The taste of his lips, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the way he pulls you closer as if he wants to merge your bodies into one.
Desire courses through you, igniting a fire within that consumes every rational thought. You press yourself flush against him, unable to stop your body from slowly grinding against him as the need for more contact intensifies, making Spencer moan into the kiss, which only makes your own desire for him grow even stronger. Every touch, every movement sends a jolt of anticipation through your body, the friction between you building a deliciously tantalizing tension.
The need for more becomes unbearable, but your lungs start to burn and you finally break the heated kiss to get a breath of air. His lips hovering mere inches from yours, his breath warm and ragged. The room is filled with thick tension as you lock eyes, the intensity between you crackling with electricity. You take a moment to steady your own breath before asking him, a little shyly, what you want to know the most in this moment. “Wanna tell me about your dream?”
Your words hang in the air, a challenge and an invitation, as you search his gaze for approval. He looks into your eyes, his own filled with a mix of desire and vulnerability. “How…” He takes a deep, steadying breath, before continuing. “How about I show you instead?”
You feel your heart skip a beat at his words, a rush of excitement and anticipation flooding through you. Without hesitation, you nod your head, your voice barely above a whisper as you respond, “I’d like that.”
You reach for his hand, guiding him towards the bed. As you lay down, he hovers above you, his eyes filled with a mixture of passion, desire, and a hint of vulnerability. The vulnerability only makes you want him more, to show him that the connection you both share is real, that it’s more than just a passing moment of lust.
You place a hand at the back of his neck, drawing him down towards you, and his lips meet yours in another fervent kiss. The weight of his body pressing against you sends a thrill through your veins, a delicious ache building between your thighs. You bring your legs up, wrapping them around him, making him let out a low grunt.
His mouth leaves your lips to instead trail down along your jawline, down your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses in their wake. His movements start out slightly clumsy, but he is very quick to adapt and adjust, finding a rhythm that suits both of you. You tilt your head back, giving him better access, surrendering yourself to the pleasure that ripples through your body with each touch of his lips. His hands move up the sides of your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
“Fuck, Spence,” you whine. Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging gently, urging him on. His lips find their way to your collarbone, and he nips at the sensitive flesh, causing a gasp to escape your lips. The sensation sends a jolt straight to your core, and you can feel yourself growing wetter and wetter with desire for him.
His fingers dip beneath the hem of your shirt, skimming along the curve of your waist, his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. You arch your back, silently begging for more, and he obliges, his hands slipping further up until they find your breasts, his thumbs rubbing softly over your hardened nipples. A low moan escapes your mouth, and his lips find yours once again, swallowing the sound and pouring his own desire into the kiss before pulling away to speak. “We… we weren’t wearing this much clothes… In my dream.”
As the words tumble from his lips, you feel a surge of anticipation flood through you. The desire to match his dream, to fulfill his fantasies, takes hold of you. With a breathless chuckle, followed by an encouraging smile you nod and begin to undo the buttons of your pajama shirt, slowly revealing your bare skin to his hungry gaze. His eyes darken with desire as he watches the fabric slip off your shoulders and expose your breasts fully to him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and reverence.
Spencer’s hands tremble slightly as he reaches out, gently cupping your breasts, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His eyes never leave yours as he experiments with different pressures and strokes, learning the map of your body through touch. Each caress sets you ablaze, igniting a fire within you that only he can satisfy.
“I...I never imagined this could be real,” Spencer admits, his voice laced with awe and reverence. “To have you like this, to be able to touch you, it’s beyond anything I ever dreamed of.”
His words melt into the air, caressing your senses as you guide his hands down your body, your breath hitching with each movement. The heat between your legs intensifies, the ache growing unbearable as his fingers brush against your heated, still covered core.
“Then let’s get rid of the rest of our clothes,” you whisper, your voice filled with anticipation and desire. With shaking hands, you help Spencer undress, removing his shirt and pants after he has shed you of your own pants.
The air is thick with tension, as the only things that are now covering the two of you being your own panties and Spencer’s gray boxer briefs. You swallow, the sight of him making a hot shiver run through your body, right down to your throbbing cunt, making you squeeze your thighs together. The imposing size of the bulge in his underwear only adds to the anticipation that swirls inside you. The dark spot of precum on the gray cotton, making you drool and without a second thought, you slide your hand down to where his arousal strains against the garment, palming him gently through the fabric, a low groan escapes his lips, the sound music to your ears.
“Shouldn’t we get these off too?” Your voice takes on a sultry tone as you gently squeeze him through his underwear.
Another groan, this one a little more whiny, falls from his lips, as he nods eagerly.
You let out a gasp as he follows your suggestion, and slides off this last item of clothing. His hard cock springs free, hitting his stomach. He is big, thick and throbbing with a bead of precum at the tip that you would love to lick off of him. You have never seen a more mouthwatering cock in your life, and if it wasn’t because you were so damn desperate to have him inside of you, you would get on your knees and choke on him in this instant. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a really pretty cock, Spence?”
“N-no…”
“Well, you do,” you assure him. Spencer’s cheeks flush by your bold compliment as you reach out for him. “Now come here, pretty boy,” you say, pulling him down on you again and he doesn’t hesitate, capturing your lips once again, but not before telling you how beautiful you are.
“Can’t concentrate sometimes, you’re so beautiful, it’s distracting,” he murmurs between kisses. “And you’re always so sweet to me, to everyone, and so fucking sexy,” he whispers against your lips. The warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine, intensifying the electricity between you.
You smile into the kiss, feeling an overwhelming surge of affection for Spencer. His words touch a deep, insecure part of your heart that you rarely expose to anyone. It’s moments like these when you realize just how lucky you are to have him in your life, and how deeply you want him to play an even bigger role than he already does.
Breaking away from the kiss, you gaze into Spencer’s expressive eyes, his pupils blown wide with lust and affection. “I could say all that about you too, you know” you confess, sincerity lacing your voice as you bring your hand up to push a stray curl away from his face. “You can be very distracting too, Dr. Reid,” you whisper, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you gently rut your clothed pussy up against his erection as you address him by his title.
A desperate grunt escapes his lips as he feels the friction between your bodies. He leans his forehead against yours, his voice husky with anticipation. “God, you have no idea how badly I want you,” he breathes, his voice thick with desire. You can feel his body trembling against yours, the need radiating off of him in waves.
“Me too, Spence,” you pant, you are now grinding against him in a slow, sloppy rhythm, “need to have you inside of me so bad.” you confess. “Do you have a condom?”
Spencer’s eyes widen slightly at your question, a mix of desire and concern flickering across his face. “No… I didn’t think... I-I mean, it’s not something I… I didn’t expect...this,” Spencer stammers, his cheeks turning pink. “I didn’t think we would…”
“It’s okay, Spencer,” you say, your voice filled with understanding, gently cupping his face in your hands, you take a little pause before continuing, “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean... so if you want…” you trail off, wanting him to be the one to make the decision
Spencer takes a moment to process your words, his expression shifting from surprise to relief. He exhales a shaky breath, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. “I-I’ve never done this without a condom…” he confesses, blushing even more, “not that I’ve done this a whole lot…” he says, his voice filled with vulnerability.
You have been unsure about how experienced Spencer is but his honesty and vulnerability only make you appreciate him more. You stroke his cheek gently, comforting him with your touch. You are just about to tell him that it is okay, and that you don’t have to do anything he is not ready for and that you can stop if he isn’t feeling like doing this anymore, but Spencer speaks before you have a chance to say any of this.
“But I want to do it all with you,” he says, his voice filled with determination and longing. “I trust you.”
His words send a surge of warmth through your body, a reassurance that he is fully committed to this moment and to exploring the depths of your connection. You lean in, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss, conveying both your love and desire for him.
Now that you finally know how it feels to kiss him after having pondered over it for so long you just can’t stop, his lips too intoxicating, too addictive. “I trust you too, Spence,”you murmur against his lips, your voice laden with affection and honesty as you spread your legs, inviting him to take the next step.
Spencer’s eyes flicker with a mix of desire and admiration as he brings his hands down to skim over the thin, and by now soaked, fabric of your panties, you arch your back, silently begging for more.
A hungry expression dances over his features before he slides the fabric aside, his touch sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. His fingers trail through the wetness already pooling between your legs, spreading out your arousal as he circles your clit. A shudder runs through you, your back arching off the mattress as pleasure courses through your veins. He continues to tease you, his touch feather-light yet impossibly intense.
“You’re so wet,” he says intrigued, and you find his fascination utterly endearing.
“Well, it’s all for you, Spence,” you moan in response as Spencer’s fingers glide over your slick folds, his touch becoming more purposeful and assertive. The anticipation builds inside you, a mixture of desire and nervous excitement. You watch Spencer’s face for any signs of hesitation or uncertainty, but all you find is a hunger that matches your own as he slides a finger inside of you. Your breath hitches as he curls his finger, hitting a spot deep inside that sends a wave of pleasure crashing through your body. You grip the sheets, your nails digging into the fabric as Spencer adds another finger, stretching you and filling you up.
The room fills with your moans and gasps, the sound of your pleasure mixing with the wet sounds of his fingers working you. You can feel your walls tightening around him, a signal that you’re close to the edge. Sensing your impending release, Spencer leans down, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss as he continues to thrust his fingers inside you. The combination of his touch and his kiss sends you spiraling over the edge, waves of ecstasy washing over you.
You cling to Spencer, your body trembling with pleasure as he guides you through your orgasm, his fingers never faltering in their movements. As your climax subsides, he withdraws his fingers slowly, his gaze locked with yours. You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as the intensity of the moment washes over you.
“That was...amazing,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe. You smile, feeling a surge of pride and contentment wash over you.
“You’re amazing,” you reply, your voice filled with love.
“I want to be inside you so badly,” Spencer confesses, his voice filled with desire and urgency. His eyes bore into yours, pleading for your permission. You can see the vulnerability and longing in his gaze, making your heart swell with affection for him.
With a nod, you give him your consent, silently urging him to take the next step. and he gets up on his knees. His erection stands tall, glistening with anticipation. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he slowly positions himself between your legs, his hands trembling slightly as he supports his weight above you, his gaze never leaving yours.
As he slowly enters you, a rush of pleasure courses through your body. Inch by inch, he fills you, stretching you in the most delicious way. A low moan escapes your lips, the sensation overwhelming yet incredibly satisfying. Spencer’s eyes never leave yours, his expression transitioning from concentration to blissful surrender.
Once he’s fully inside you, he pauses, allowing you both to savor the feeling of being intimately connected. You run your hands over his back, sending shivers down his spine as you guide him to start moving. With each thrust, waves of pleasure crash through you, igniting a fire that burns brightly between you.
“Spencer,” you whisper breathlessly, your voice filled with need, “you feel amazing.”
He whimpers in response, his rhythm picking up as both your bodies move in perfect synchronization. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, a raw display of the passion simmering between you.
The room is filled with the sounds of your bodies colliding, the bed creaking in rhythm with your passionate movements. Spencer’s thrusts become deeper and more assertive, his movements guided by pure instinct and the desire to please you. He holds nothing back, giving himself to you completely.
“You’re so tight,” he groans, his voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and disbelief. “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”
You dig your nails into his back, urging him on. “Don’t hold back, Spencer,” you gasp, your voice laced with urgency. “Give it to me, all of it.”
Your hands roam his body, tracing the contours of his lean muscles, urging him on with every touch. His lips find yours in a desperate kiss, each one filled with a mixture of love, desire, and a hunger for more. The intensity of your connection drives you both toward the edge, pushing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy.
His thrusts become harder, deeper, and you cry out, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body. Pleasure builds within you, radiating outwards in waves, threatening to consume you entirely.
“I’m close, Spence,” you manage to utter, your voice strained. “I’m so close.”
He increases his pace, his movements becoming erratic as he chases his own release. You can feel the tension coil within him, the way he desperately clings onto the edge, on the verge of falling. And then, as if in perfect unison, the dam breaks. The pleasure crashes over you both, engulfing you in a tidal wave of ecstasy. You can’t help but let out a series of desperate whines and moans as you feel the warmth of his release filling you up as he pumps you full of him, coating your walls with his cum. You cling to each other, riding out the waves of your orgasms, the walls of your pussy convulsing around his cock, your bodies trembling with the intensity of it all.
Spencer collapses onto you, his weight pressing you further into the mattress. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close, basking in the afterglow of your shared intimacy. As your breaths finally steady, he lifts his head and gazes into your eyes, a tender smile playing on his lips.
“That was... beyond words,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and reverence. “I’ve never felt this connected to someone before.”
You stroke his cheek lovingly, your own smile mirroring his. “Me neither, Spence.”
He leans down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, pouring all his adoration and gratitude into it.
And as you both lie tangled in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth and intimacy you have just experienced, a feeling of contentment washes over you. It is a feeling you have longed for, a feeling of being truly seen and accepted by another person, and you know that for a long time that longing has been for Spencer and only Spencer.
“I am so grateful for you, Spence,” you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity.
Spencer’s eyes softened, his gaze locking with yours. “Thank you for being patient with me. Before meeting you I honestly never thought I could feel so comfortable and safe with anyone.”
Tears well up in your eyes. The depth of emotion in his words touches you deeply. You lean in to capture his lips in a tender kiss, a kiss filled with love and gratitude.
Spencer shifts, gently pulling out of you and sliding to your side. He scoops you into his arms, holding you close to his chest. The rise and fall of his breath against your skin is soothing, creating a sense of comfort and security on a level that you have never felt before.
You curl up against him, your head resting on his shoulder. “I’m so happy there only was one bed,” you whisper, the words spilling from your heart without hesitation. Spencer presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“Me too,” he reply, his voice filled with emotion.
Thank you for reading! If you feel like it, please leave a comment or reblog to let me know what you thought ♡
Zutara SlowBurn FanFiction: Personal Favs, part II
· DESTINY IS A FUNNY THING by Megara Pike | Published: 2020-08-21 | 198K Words | 45 Chapters
ATLA Season 3 rewrite, fills in a lot of blanks between canon scenes. From the Southern Raiders to Sozin’s Comet through coronation and aftermath. Growing friendships, bonding, being there for each other, a carnival & a cave, epic spirits’ appearance on the Ember island, sparring, nightmares, assassination attempts, political ruses, and covert operations. Lovely, sweet. Exciting plot.
· ATLA Book 4: Ashes by elayne_cypher | Published: 2018-10-27 | 306K words | 34 Chapters
This action-packed story picks up right after Ember Island Players and continues well after the war. Zuko is facing many challenges as a new Fire Lord. Romance, tough decisions, rebels, traitors, out-of-body experiences, secret headquarters, angst, teamwork, fire jets. The story has a bunch of OCs.
· Refraction by caroes3725 | Published: 2020-09-09 | 215K Words | 37 Chapters
After breaking up with Aang, Katara needs to figure out her place and role in the patriarchal world. As determined Katara stubbornly bulldozes her way through Fire Nation political scene, her feelings for Zuko grow. Diplomatic visits, Gaang reunion, bonding with Kanna, insights into the life of Caldera city, stuffy politicians, cute correspondence, tropical storm, women supporting women, assassination attempts, personal boundaries. A sweet well-written coming-of-age story with a healthy measure of slow-burn and mutual pining. Katara and Zuko are both POVs, but the story mostly follows Katara. Bonus: Mai is NOT a clingy resentful idiot, but a smart person and a good friend. Some explicit language here and there, a bit of mild smut.
· I Asked You First by halfhoursonearth | Published: 2020-10-03 | 142K words | 22/? Chapters
Ongoing, incomplete. Post Southern Raiders ATLAS3 rewrite. Mostly canon-compliant with blanks filled in between familiar scenes. Zuko and Katara develop a close friendship built on trust and sharing each other’s fears and hopes. Includes mentions of implied child abuse, Lu Ten’s diaries, exploring Avatar Roku’s legacy, sharing a balcony, heart-to-hearts, a hot spring under the stars, an actual date, and artbending. It’s incomplete, but what we have is bliss. Slowburn, mutual pining. Zutara-centric, but also explores the personalities of Team Avatar and their relationships.
· Katara Alone by cablesscutie | Published: 2020-05-31 | 21K words
Katara is not an “unnecessary accessory to a more powerful man”. After the war, she is willing to forge her own path as she turns to people who need her the most on her journey of self-discovery. Features character exploration, correspondence, exploring outback villages of Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom, sweet reunions, and new firebending skills.
· THE PHOENIX AND THE DRAGON - THE COMPLETE SERIES by JasmineTeaLatte | Published: 2021-06-11 | 100K words | 31 Chapters
This story picks up after The Ember Island Players. Zuko and Katara get to know each other during a late-night conversation by the campfire. In this story, you will find healthy boundaries, protective Sokka, a dash of Taang, sparring, funny banter & lots of flirting.
· HESITATE by tiffaniesblews | Published: 2020-07-11 | 22K Words | 12 Chapters
This story picks up right after Zuko’s coronation and spans two years afterwards. Zuko & Katara talk, share a few beautiful moments, write to each other, and reunite for the 2nd anniversary of the war ending. Very sweet, fluffy story about two sweethearts figuring out their feelings for each other.
· LIKE WE’RE MADE OF STARLIGHT by Naladot | Published: 2021-11-28 | 5K Words
Katara leaves her post as the ambassador to the Fire Nation to take up a new one as the ambassador to the Northern Water Tribe. Her absence makes Zuko realize that he’s got an unfortunate crush, which he is determined to keep secret. Unfortunately for him, subtly has never been one of his strengths—especially when he arrives in the Northern Water Tribe and she keeps taking him on what seem to be dates.
· FIGURE IT OUT by clearascountryair | Published: 2021-12-20 | 35K words | 13 Chapters
After choosing not to kill Yon Rha, Katara rethinks her sense of self and others’ perceptions of her. Or, In which Katara learns that there’s a really big difference between being kissed when you don’t want to be and being kissed when you do. Aged-up 3B/Ember Island AU.
- I FOUND YOU by that_turtleduck | Published: 2020-11-01 Completed: 2024-02-24 Words: 157,541 Chapters: 28/28
After divorcing Aang, Katara uproots her family and travels to Caldera. There she finds comfort, kindness and support from an old friend. Katara tries to find her footing as an independent political figure. Great story & relationship dynamic of Momtara & Dadko in their early 30s (Ember island, diplomatic meeting, dancing, turtleduck pond, letters). Delicious slow burn with rewarding spicy resolution in the end (explicit open door). Titters on the side of Anti-Aang.
Sometimes it feels like they’re never going to get a moment alone, but as soon as the library is empty Scott has her against one of the bookshelves, his mouth hot and demanding. Jean opens up to him, moaning against his lips. He’s as clean-shaven as always, but there’s something wild about the way that he kisses her, something that makes her wet.
She props one foot up against the lowest shelf and spreads her legs, giving Scott the space to press in close against her, his bare torso hers to touch, all that firm skin hers alone. “I missed you,” he admits, and she knows that he means it; she can feel the bright sincerity pulsing from his mind.
“I missed you too,” she says, as his hand slips beneath her shirt. His touch is always so gentle, so careful, as if he’s worried that he might break her with the slightest slip-up. They’ve been in battle together; he knows she’s a lot tougher than she looks. Yet she loves the way that he is with her, the way that his need is tempered by his caution.
She opens her eyes and stares into the red protection of his glasses, holding an invisible gaze as she slides her arms up over her head, slowly and obviously surrendering herself. “I want you to touch me,” she says, throwing the words out on a whisper. “I want you every where.”
He swallows, his lips pink and full. She wants to push him down between her legs and feel those lips firm against her core, but he kisses her before she has a chance to ask, the soft demands of his tongue making her melt and moan. His fingers skim against the underside of her breast, soft enough to tease and tempt with satisfying. She gasps his name and he presses even closer, until she can feel the rough material of his jeans through the cotton of her underwear. She feels soaked; she wants him inside her so much she wants to beg for it.
Yet he swallows every moan and every word, chasing temptation with his tongue, as his hand slides further over her breast until his fingers are a clever, wicked tease on her nipple. She clings onto the bookshelf above her, but with her power she reaches out and plucks open the button of his jeans, sliding down the zip and then shoving the unwanted material down to the floor. Scott chuckles against her mouth, an amused puff of air that only manages to turn her on even more.
“Now, Scott,” she insists. His hands leave her torso behind, her breasts stimulating and aching for more, to clutch hold of her thighs instead, lifting her up around him. “Please, now.”
He has to pull her underwear out of the way, but then he is inside her, big and hard and perfect, so perfect - Jean drops her head back against the shelves, groaning as she draws him in closer, hers, all hers, forever.
AN: Rafael Barba x Reader. Nick Amaro x Reader. This is an idea I have had for the longest time and I just needed to get it out. This is all smut, NSFW fo’ sho.’ CW: threesomes, oral sex, some humiliation/name calling (i.e.: slut), vaginal sex, anal sex, double-penetration, cum play. Like the whole kitchen sink. So heed the warnings. Smut is under the cut.
AN2: Apologies for any typos/misspellings.
WC: 5.3K words
–
“Surprise!”
You blinked at the crowd before you, stunned. Confetti flew in the air and you could hear the sound of a champagne bottle popping off to the side. In the middle of the crowd, a mix of family and friends, was your fiance, Rafael, beaming.
Rafael walked up to you, arms outstretched. One hand contained a glass of champagne, the others with a smoldering cigar.
“Rafael Barba! Did you do this?” you asked, smiling. You waved hello to a friend in the corner. Rafael pressed a kiss to your lips. “Feliz cumpleaños mi amor.”
Salsa music played in the background and you made your way around the room, greeting all of the guests and thanking them for coming. Your birthday cake – your favorite from Sugar Sweet Sunshine, a hidden gem in the Lower East Side – was a vanilla butter cake with fresh banana and peanut butter frosting.
Word Count: 6.4K+
Pairing: Warren Worthington III x Female Reader
Summary: It hasn’t been easy for Warren to let you in or even talk about the fact that it’s so hard for him, but after he has an accident while you clean his wings, everything comes up to the surface.
Rating: MA (Explicit)
Warnings: Explicit sex scenes (wing kink?, some shades of submissive Warren)
A/N: Oh boy! This one really got angsty when I was halfway through writing it. If you like it tell me, because I think there’s a lot of potential for a second part. I’d like to dedicate this to @shayara, who inspired me to write for Warren just by being so in love with him.
“Warren, for the love of God, let me do it.”
“I can do it myself, [Y/N]. I don’t need help, I’ve been doing this since long before meeting you.” You sigh, holding back your tongue. You know why he’s being so difficult, and even though sometimes you just want to flip him off and get out of there– you can’t do it, because you know the reason behind his attitude.
“Warren, you’re pushing me away again.” You say softly from behind him, and he sighs and lowers his head in shame. He rubs his forehead and takes a deep breath before speaking again.
“I’m sorry. It’s like I just– I forget I’m talking to you, and those responses just come out automatically.” He doesn’t even turn to look at you so he doesn’t notice you walking towards him– and that’s why he whispers something to himself that you know you weren’t supposed to hear.
“I don’t understand how you can love me.” He mumbles and you wrap your arms around him from behind, feeling him tensing up immediately.
He knows you heard him.
“I love you because you let me see who you are, behind this… brick wall you’ve built around yourself.” You kiss his shoulder and his wings fall down– and you know he’s more relaxed now. “How was I not supposed to fall in love with you after that?” He unwraps your arms from his waist and turns around, enveloping you in his wings.
“I don’t want to push you away. I want you to see and know everything about me, but I just– I can’t. I don’t know how to fix it.” He confesses and rests his forehead on your shoulder. You rub his back and kiss his cheek.
“You can start by letting me clean your wings for once. I know you can do it, but it makes you really tired and it will be easier for me. Can you do that?”
Sometimes it feels like they’re never going to get a moment alone, but as soon as the library is empty Scott has her against one of the bookshelves, his mouth hot and demanding. Jean opens up to him, moaning against his lips. He’s as clean-shaven as always, but there’s something wild about the way that he kisses her, something that makes her wet.
She props one foot up against the lowest shelf and spreads her legs, giving Scott the space to press in close against her, his bare torso hers to touch, all that firm skin hers alone. “I missed you,” he admits, and she knows that he means it; she can feel the bright sincerity pulsing from his mind.
“I missed you too,” she says, as his hand slips beneath her shirt. His touch is always so gentle, so careful, as if he’s worried that he might break her with the slightest slip-up. They’ve been in battle together; he knows she’s a lot tougher than she looks. Yet she loves the way that he is with her, the way that his need is tempered by his caution.
She opens her eyes and stares into the red protection of his glasses, holding an invisible gaze as she slides her arms up over her head, slowly and obviously surrendering herself. “I want you to touch me,” she says, throwing the words out on a whisper. “I want you every where.”
He swallows, his lips pink and full. She wants to push him down between her legs and feel those lips firm against her core, but he kisses her before she has a chance to ask, the soft demands of his tongue making her melt and moan. His fingers skim against the underside of her breast, soft enough to tease and tempt with satisfying. She gasps his name and he presses even closer, until she can feel the rough material of his jeans through the cotton of her underwear. She feels soaked; she wants him inside her so much she wants to beg for it.
Yet he swallows every moan and every word, chasing temptation with his tongue, as his hand slides further over her breast until his fingers are a clever, wicked tease on her nipple. She clings onto the bookshelf above her, but with her power she reaches out and plucks open the button of his jeans, sliding down the zip and then shoving the unwanted material down to the floor. Scott chuckles against her mouth, an amused puff of air that only manages to turn her on even more.
“Now, Scott,” she insists. His hands leave her torso behind, her breasts stimulating and aching for more, to clutch hold of her thighs instead, lifting her up around him. “Please, now.”
He has to pull her underwear out of the way, but then he is inside her, big and hard and perfect, so perfect - Jean drops her head back against the shelves, groaning as she draws him in closer, hers, all hers, forever.
Zutara SlowBurn FanFiction: Personal Favs, part II
· DESTINY IS A FUNNY THING by Megara Pike | Published: 2020-08-21 | 198K Words | 45 Chapters
ATLA Season 3 rewrite, fills in a lot of blanks between canon scenes. From the Southern Raiders to Sozin’s Comet through coronation and aftermath. Growing friendships, bonding, being there for each other, a carnival & a cave, epic spirits’ appearance on the Ember island, sparring, nightmares, assassination attempts, political ruses, and covert operations. Lovely, sweet. Exciting plot.
· ATLA Book 4: Ashes by elayne_cypher | Published: 2018-10-27 | 306K words | 34 Chapters
This action-packed story picks up right after Ember Island Players and continues well after the war. Zuko is facing many challenges as a new Fire Lord. Romance, tough decisions, rebels, traitors, out-of-body experiences, secret headquarters, angst, teamwork, fire jets. The story has a bunch of OCs.
· Refraction by caroes3725 | Published: 2020-09-09 | 215K Words | 37 Chapters
After breaking up with Aang, Katara needs to figure out her place and role in the patriarchal world. As determined Katara stubbornly bulldozes her way through Fire Nation political scene, her feelings for Zuko grow. Diplomatic visits, Gaang reunion, bonding with Kanna, insights into the life of Caldera city, stuffy politicians, cute correspondence, tropical storm, women supporting women, assassination attempts, personal boundaries. A sweet well-written coming-of-age story with a healthy measure of slow-burn and mutual pining. Katara and Zuko are both POVs, but the story mostly follows Katara. Bonus: Mai is NOT a clingy resentful idiot, but a smart person and a good friend. Some explicit language here and there, a bit of mild smut.
· I Asked You First by halfhoursonearth | Published: 2020-10-03 | 142K words | 22/? Chapters
Ongoing, incomplete. Post Southern Raiders ATLAS3 rewrite. Mostly canon-compliant with blanks filled in between familiar scenes. Zuko and Katara develop a close friendship built on trust and sharing each other’s fears and hopes. Includes mentions of implied child abuse, Lu Ten’s diaries, exploring Avatar Roku’s legacy, sharing a balcony, heart-to-hearts, a hot spring under the stars, an actual date, and artbending. It’s incomplete, but what we have is bliss. Slowburn, mutual pining. Zutara-centric, but also explores the personalities of Team Avatar and their relationships.
· Katara Alone by cablesscutie | Published: 2020-05-31 | 21K words
Katara is not an “unnecessary accessory to a more powerful man”. After the war, she is willing to forge her own path as she turns to people who need her the most on her journey of self-discovery. Features character exploration, correspondence, exploring outback villages of Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom, sweet reunions, and new firebending skills.
· THE PHOENIX AND THE DRAGON - THE COMPLETE SERIES by JasmineTeaLatte | Published: 2021-06-11 | 100K words | 31 Chapters
This story picks up after The Ember Island Players. Zuko and Katara get to know each other during a late-night conversation by the campfire. In this story, you will find healthy boundaries, protective Sokka, a dash of Taang, sparring, funny banter & lots of flirting.
· HESITATE by tiffaniesblews | Published: 2020-07-11 | 22K Words | 12 Chapters
This story picks up right after Zuko’s coronation and spans two years afterwards. Zuko & Katara talk, share a few beautiful moments, write to each other, and reunite for the 2nd anniversary of the war ending. Very sweet, fluffy story about two sweethearts figuring out their feelings for each other.
· LIKE WE’RE MADE OF STARLIGHT by Naladot | Published: 2021-11-28 | 5K Words
Katara leaves her post as the ambassador to the Fire Nation to take up a new one as the ambassador to the Northern Water Tribe. Her absence makes Zuko realize that he’s got an unfortunate crush, which he is determined to keep secret. Unfortunately for him, subtly has never been one of his strengths—especially when he arrives in the Northern Water Tribe and she keeps taking him on what seem to be dates.
· FIGURE IT OUT by clearascountryair | Published: 2021-12-20 | 35K words | 13 Chapters
After choosing not to kill Yon Rha, Katara rethinks her sense of self and others’ perceptions of her. Or, In which Katara learns that there’s a really big difference between being kissed when you don’t want to be and being kissed when you do. Aged-up 3B/Ember Island AU.
- I FOUND YOU by that_turtleduck | Published: 2020-11-01 Completed: 2024-02-24 Words: 157,541 Chapters: 28/28
After divorcing Aang, Katara uproots her family and travels to Caldera. There she finds comfort, kindness and support from an old friend. Katara tries to find her footing as an independent political figure. Great story & relationship dynamic of Momtara & Dadko in their early 30s (Ember island, diplomatic meeting, dancing, turtleduck pond, letters). Delicious slow burn with rewarding spicy resolution in the end (explicit open door). Titters on the side of Anti-Aang.
ok so i have very last minute decided to write some spooky stuff for October and these are the fics I've got planned for the next few weeks!
please don't kill me mr ghostface - murders on campus. the odd toothbrush goes missing. what's new, honestly. life keeps ticking and you end up at a Halloween party somewhere you shouldn't. there, you meet a gorgeous man in a strange mask. he seems sweet, and all you're looking for is a bit of fun. what could go wrong?
(stalker!Miguel x reader, slight yandere undertones. he's a murderer lowkey but very gentle and sweet and scary hot that's all guys I promise.)
trick or treat - Mr O'Hara is the nicest man you've ever met. Sweet, kind; he always makes sure to overpay you whenever you babysit Gabriella. He's never out later than he says, and sometimes you stay a little longer for a coffee and a chat after she heads to bed. After a couple months spent silently pining over the stoic man, you're asked to take the graveyard shift - trick or treating with his daughter. And if you happen to stay a little longer - drinks and some dinner with Mr O'Hara - well, who can blame you?
(dilf!Miguel x babysitter!reader. slight daddy kink, age gap, gentle dom Mig. wanted to try my hand at this dynamic cuz i think its hot asf)
M a n e a t e r - Night in Nueva York. A deep underbelly that only one Miguel O'Hara can traverse - in all its stinking, bloody glory. Vampires run rampant, pulling strings in the highest echelons of society and rattling around at the lowest. He's a recluse, hunting the worst creatures of the night. For months, he's been on the trail of a notorious killer, tracking the trail of blood from its source. You're a doctor; haematologist by trade, frequenter of the city morgue, and a regular connect of Miguel's. After a particularly brutal killing; the two of you find yourselves intertwined - bonding over late nights and city lights. When one thing leads to another; he can't help but think... has the answer to this case been under his nose the whole time?
(vampire hunter!Miguel x reader - apart of a halloween collab event! i rewatched blade and blade runner 2099 so i am about to be so soo annoying about it. Dark themes, slight femdom, violence, etc etc)
Warnings - language, SMUT (MINORS DNI, 18+), oral (male and female receiving), fingering, face fucking, unprotected penetration, slight overstimulation, use of pet names (darling/good girl), slight hair pulling, sorta dom!spencer and sorta sub!reader, not proofread (lmk if i missed anything lmao)
Summary - You come over to Spencer’s apartment hoping to help him during a storm and power outage. Your attempt to help him through his fear of the dark developed into something more than you had planned, leading to an unrevealed confession.
Category - fluff, smut (18+) MINORS DNI
Word Count - 6.1k
A/N - lmao i cranked this out today and i’m kinda proud considering i’m sitting in my lab rn waiting for some tests and i’m rlly hoping this shows up in the tags lmao. big big big thank you to @samuel-de-champagne-problems for helping me with this, ily <3
masterlist || lmk what you think || join my taglist
——————————————
Spencer always felt like he was on display, people watching him as he juggled a circus act of walking on a tightrope.
He couldn’t count the vast number of his peers waiting for him to tip over and fall down beneath, surrounded by nothing but failure. It was a fate that haunted him constantly, a never-ending fear that he believed would inevitably come true one day in the future.
What they didn’t know was the envy that bubbled inside him. He coveted the normalcy they so desperately wanted to get rid of. He wanted the ease of being a regular person and the effortless finding of their other half.
He didn’t understand why people wanted to be in his shoes knowing what others thought of him but what stumped him most was why you wanted him.
After weeks of borderline stalking you, Spencer decided to leave well enough alone— dropping the unachievable dream of being yours. Much to his surprise, you approached him with just as much enthusiasm that thrived inside him when any thought of you weaseled its way into his frontal lobe. He managed to work up the courage to ask you out on a date and the rest felt as easy as it was to fall for you.
It was a rollercoaster of emotions: infatuation, fixation, adoration, passion.
He was addicted to you, a fact he had known since the moment you called him yours— your Spencer. It was almost as if his heart was trapped and fumigated with your intoxicatingly sweet scent and wondrous smiles he would never be able to rid himself of, a nightmare and fantasy he could never quite forget.
But at some point, something felt off. There was always something left… unsaid.
Every single goodbye felt like a sentence that was unfinished.
He tried to figure out what it was but he could never find the missing piece to his puzzle, stuck in a prison made of his own incapability. The lightbulb never magically turned on, nor did the answer finally click— he was left to remain in a state of confusion and emotional disorientation.
His internal debacle stuck with him since he first noticed the odd hanging feeling after each reluctant departure. There was nothing he could do but wait until he could put his bright mind to good use.
Spencer ran his fingers through his hair hoping to brush out the little droplets of rain resting between each strand. He was able to avoid the raging weather in Virginia for the last couple of days, staying in sunshiney California for a case. He never liked thunder or lightning or any kind of weather that had the potential to develop into a raging storm, it always created an unsettling atmosphere he had no intention of enjoying.
With each passing moment marked by the sound of thunder and the flashing lightning, he thought of the only person that could comfort him in that very moment— you.
He had been hesitant to call you after discovering his newfound problem that may be the little seed of doubt that had yet to be unsown, instilling a sense of hopelessness inside him. It was an inkling of pessimism that believed in his undismissable demise, too stubborn for him to rid himself of.
The keys dropped from his hand into the little dish beside the front door with a loud clank. He made his way over to the couch, plopping himself down as the weather outside expressed its rage through howling winds and rampant rain.
His phone slid out of his pocket the further he sunk into the piece of furniture, almost as if the world was urging him to call you. He wanted to oblige, he wanted to call but a little piece of him was afraid of the unknown. He couldn’t figure out what was irking him, something he believed would potentially severe his only lifeline.
His finger brushed up against the cold surface of the device, chuckling as he reminisced on the time you stuck little stickers by each button detailing what each did. He had the mind of a camera but he couldn’t seem to remember how to work a tool of the modern age.
Spencer jumped slightly right as the sound of the roaring thunder outside filled his living room. He was a grown man but he never really got over his fear of storms of any kind. The situation was made worse by the flickering of the lights above him, the indecisiveness of the bulbs eventually gave way when the lighting was abruptly stolen.
He sunk further into the faux leather under him, clutching the tiny black box close to his chest while he tried to work up the courage to call you. His finger migrated to your contact and hovered over it, a war of thoughts in his mind clouded his decision.
All the bad memories he thought he had gotten rid of started to flood him again.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to wish away the dark just as he did as a child. Spencer itched to hear the monotonous ringing followed by the sound of your voice picking up the phone, he was just too afraid to make an objective decision.
Right as he was about to hit the little green button under your name, a quick succession of knocks sounded from his door. There wasn’t one bone in his body interested in indulging whoever was on the other side, leaning his head back against his couch as he stared at the painfully lit screen surrounded by the darkness around him.
“Spencer?”
His ears perked up when the sound of your voice registered in his brain. Maybe it was a sign to get over a problem that may very well be an imaginary obstacle constructed in his troubled mind.
“Spencer,” you yelled louder than before, knocking harder on the only thing keeping you and him separated, “Spencer? Are you there?”
Without thinking, he shot up and stumbled over to the door in the dark. He raced to get to you, his heart pounding against the walls of his chest to be in your arms once again. He was foolish to think that he could ever stay away from you for as long as he thought he would.
The little problem he perceived could stay unresolved for all he cared, it didn’t matter as long as he had you.
“Spencer!” You knocked even harder, “Spence-”
You were cut off when he opened the door and pulled you into his chest. You smiled as he placed small, eager kisses on your face and shut the door behind you with one kick.
“I missed you,” he whispered against your skin.
You smiled, giving into his tight grasp and hugging him back. He snuck his head into the crook of your neck and wrapped his arms around your waist, mimicking the strength of a cinched corset. He could already begin to feel the cloudy, gray feeling begin to fade just by touching you.
“I missed you too.”
“Wh- why are you here?” He pulled away, shivering as the temperature decreased by the minute.
“The power went out in the whole city while I was driving here,” you tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear, removing the fallen strand to reveal his concerned face, “I didn’t want you to be alone in a storm.”
“I hate storms.”
You giggled, pulling him into you while rubbing his back soothingly. “I know,” you comforted.
“I hate the dark.”
A little piece of you broke hearing him say that, knowing that the dark wasn’t what he was so afraid of. He was afraid of the feeling the dark reminded him of, all those nights spent by himself without anyone there for him— the feeling of being alone.
“I know, that’s why I’m here,” you replied, running your fingers through his hair as all the strangling thoughts washed away with the downward motion of your hand.
“I- I was going to call,” he pouted slightly, his fingers continuing to dig into your waist as he held you.
“Why didn’t you?”
He shook his head, quieting his voice to match the eerie atmosphere. “I didn’t want to bother you,” he admitted.
“You’re never a bother, Spence,” you kissed his cheek, “Never.”
He nodded, hurriedly pulling you into him once again once another flash of lightning struck with the sound of thunder following shortly behind it. You giggled into his chest, partly amused by his irrational fear.
You reached into your bag, struggling to find what it was you were looking for. You smiled as soon as your fingers felt the faint outline of the little things you brought to distract him from his fear of ‘the inherent absence of light’.
“What are those?” He followed you as you placed what looked like cylinders of plastic on top of his tables and stacks of books.
You flicked the switch on the bottom, illuminating the room with a soft glow. “They’re battery-operated candles,” you said, walking around and turning more of them on until his once gloomy apartment was lit with artificial light, “I know you don’t have any real ones because you don’t want anything to happen to your books so I bought these, you know, for a rainy day.”
He laughed, helping you turn the rest on.
“Sorry,” you giggled, running into him in a particularly darker corner of the room and moving out of the way to continue lighting up the spaces that were consumed by darkness.
There it was again, the nagging feeling that something was missing. He could feel every physical reaction to being with you— the usual racing heart, sweaty palms, incoherent stuttering, and rosy cheeks— but he could never put them together. He was sure there wasn’t anything he was missing, recounting every feeling that had surfaced when you were around, he just didn’t know what it meant.
It was like there was a broken connection somewhere inside him, unable to piece the logical and emotional together. He knew what you did to him, he just didn’t understand why he always felt like some things were incomplete.
“That’s better,” you took a step back to look at his dimly lit living room. The little candles didn’t do much to help. He still couldn’t see a thing but the thought of having some form of light was comforting compared to the all-devouring darkness that made it impossible for him to distinguish you from the lamp nearby. He continued to tell himself that the lights that once radiated from the ceiling were superfluous when he could rely on his sharp memory to see you— every aspect from your face to your body ingrained in his mind.
Thinking about you was the only thing that could keep him calm amidst the torrent weather that mirrored his thoughts.
He nodded, turning on the last candle before walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you once again— a habit he didn’t plan on growing out of. You returned the embrace, locking your hands around his back while reaching up to give him a kiss.
Before you could, a loud rumble of thunder scared Spencer’s inner child— sending him tumbling backward with you in his arms. He tripped on a little pile of books and landed right on his carpet. You laughed into his shoulder as he squeezed you tighter than before, still shaken up from his sudden journey towards his floor.
“Spence,” you lifted your head to see his slightly distressed face, “What can I do? How can I help?” He was stuck thinking back on the times he hid away under his bed as a little kid, afraid of the claps of thunder and flashes of lightning that sent his mother screaming.
“I- I think I need a distraction,” he gulped, “Like um, something that’ll take my mind off of what’s going on outside.”
You got to your feet, offering your hand to help him up. “What kind of distraction?”
“I don’t know,” he huffed, “I- I just need something, anything.”
He could see the gears begin to work through the distinguished look in your eyes. Maybe he put too much on your shoulder, piling his mountain-high problems on your grounded back. The tension in the air was thick with a medley of feelings that didn’t help lift the already desolate mood.
It was quiet and timid but all he could seem to focus on was you. You were a distraction in itself, constantly luring his focus into a trap with your inescapable laughs and blinding beauty. The two of you stood there without an echo of sound or a blink of an eye.
“I-” he struggled to come up with something to fill the silence, “We could-”
He stood still, eyelids paralyzed as he felt your soft lips press up against his. Spencer was motionless as he was stunned by the sudden spontaneity of your behavior, the tension in the room suddenly shifting to one filled with dizzying desire.
You pulled away to look at him, afraid that you had gone too far. His lips were parted slightly, glistening with evidence of where your lips were two seconds ago.
He could hear your labored breathing, wanting more but too fearful of his reaction to take another step towards him. At that moment, there was no decision for you to make. The taut thickness in the air was taken away right when he leaned down to connect with your lips once again, fully prepared for the addicting events that would unfold.
You ran your fingers in his slightly knotted hair, tangling each golden brown strand the more you tugged from your eagerness. He moaned into your mouth with each tug you gave, his hands running up and down your body to intensify every surge of energy with the friction caused by his rubbing. You could feel yourself shiver under his touch with each passing moment his hands were on your body. Spencer continued to grab and grasp and pull at your clothes, frustrated that such constricting pieces of fabric were the only thing keeping the two of your bare bodies separated.
All the thoughts about the storm had vanished completely, the little doors that were opened back to the bad memories he had of his childhood were shut and closed the moment your hands made their way to his body. You licked his bottom lip and waited until he parted them slightly before you slipped your tongue inside as he quickly pulled you towards the couch.
He landed on the bottom while you moved to straddle him carefully, already feeling how incredibly hard he was from the kiss you had only intended to last for a minute that had drawn on for the next thirty.
Every second and every moment was filled with an unmistakable passion he felt every time he was with you. Your kisses had never been so hungry, so starved like they were then and so many times before. He never detected the fluctuation before but the change had never been so apparent as they were then. Spencer could feel how every part of him yearned to be yours on a molecular level as the energy in your body electrocuted him with every touch.
Your hands slid up his chest, landing on the very top button you rushed to undo. He smiled against your lips at your greedy fingers quickly unbuttoning each little rounded piece of plastic on his shirt. You finally finished undoing the last one, expecting to feel his bare skin beneath your palms but you were sorely disappointed when you felt his cotton undershirt instead.
You sighed, frustrated.
“Impatient,” he teased, sliding off his dress shirt and pulling off the white one underneath with a single swift motion. Each flash of lightning lit the room as you saw his chest in short increments, already feeling your underwear dampen.
You started to believe that you had actually initiated this whole thing more for your pleasure than for his, but it didn’t seem like he was too bothered— completely focused on sucking away at the tender skin of your neck. He enjoyed losing himself in you, gladly taking part in a distraction while being able to make you feel how much he enjoyed you.
His nimble fingers worked away to help you shed off your layers, helping you shimmy off your outer coat leaving you in your thick knit sweater. Under normal circumstances, Spencer would revel in how beautiful you looked but he could barely see a thing— another reason why he hated being in the dark. He couldn’t see you and your body was everything he wanted, you were everything he wanted.
You began to rock against his hard dick that was confined by the fabric it strained against, desperately trying to break free from the expensive material of his pants to find you. He threw his head back at the added pressure as the tightness in his chest began to grow and spread to the rest of his body, moans falling from his swollen lips— all red from the sucking and biting it went through with you.
Your skin felt so hot against his cold hands, the discrepancy in temperature left the feeling of little pin-pricks where his hand ghosted over the side of your body. Slowly, he slid your sweater over the top of your head to reveal your lacy bra. From the little flashes of light that seeped through his uncovered window, it was black with little embroidered flowers in a metallic purple thread.
Your lips pressed up against the top of his chest as your hands caressed his arms and rested teasingly on his belt. Your thighs began to loosen their grip on his hips, making your way down until your face was level with his dick.
“You don’t have to,” he whispered, leaning down to speak to you.
“You need a distraction,” you kissed his cheek softly, “I’m more than happy to be just that.”
“Are you sure, b- because we can stop right now if you don’t-”
You kissed his lips as your hand cupped the side of his face. “Spence, I want this. I want to do this for you.”
And once again, the mystery returned and reminded him that there was something missing. Your words hung in the air right as he realized what it was. The world around him stopped turning, the bullets of rain that shot down from the sky paused in the short moment the glimmer in your eye solved what he worked so hard to figure out.
He loved you.
That was the answer.
His heart knew before his mind had been able to process the mere idea of being in love with you. But in that moment, where your eyes paralleled the shining stars in the sky and his heart bloomed with a mysterious feeling he never truly acknowledged until you came to him, he knew that the missing piece was right in front of him the whole time.
Spencer should have known, it was a given since the moment he met you. His love for you was preordained and he should have come to that conclusion when he first recognized the problem. It wasn’t about the sex or the fact that you sitting there about to suck him off, it was about how willing you were to make him feel better despite his irrational, childish fear and how he was just as willing to do the same for you… if not more.
He couldn’t explain how he knew, he just did— the ground beneath the cliff he hung off of appeared just as quickly as he fell.
Your hand pushed him back onto the couch while you unbuckled his belt. He lifted his hips slightly, cooperating with every motion you prompted him to do as you unzipped his pants and pulled them down along with his briefs in one swift motion.
The darkness, aside from the occasional flash of lightning, stunted your vision so you saw through touch. You smiled, your hand making its way around the base of his dick. He bit his lip, hands gripping at the side of his couch with his nails scratching at the expensive faux leather in his frenzied state.
His mind was blurred in a haze of physical and internal pleasure. He could only focus on the way your hand wrapped around him, thumb swiping at the tip which led him to suck in a sharp breath— the last he’d take if you kept going so painstakingly slow.
You giggled, taking how frequently he bucked his hip into your hand as a desperate plea for you to continue. You obliged and used the precum that had collected at the top of his dick to slick the rest of him, placing your lips onto him as you sucked lightly— easing him into the first of many waves of pleasure.
You began to bob your head, taking him in your mouth slowly as your hands followed the rocking motion of your head. Every moan and whine of your name sent a rush of electricity down to your core that waited impatiently for him. He relished in your adamant pace, rushing to get him to his high without thinking about yourself.
You opened your eyes and looked up to see his face fully flushed, hands roaming across the couch not knowing where to grab to release the pent-up energy brought about by the pleasure. You moaned just thinking about how hot he looked sitting there completely wrapped around your finger while you were wrapped around his dick. He was yours, a simple fact that was practically written in the stars despite the rain clouds that covered them.
His heart pounded against his chest as the waves of pleasure washed away the horrid thoughts that clung onto him before.
He needed you.
Spencer began to thrust up, fucking your face as you complied by hollowing your cheeks. He continued to use you, hitting the back of your throat as each thrust into you brought him closer to where you worked so hard to get him to.
Before he could finish, Spencer wrapped his hands in your hair and pulled you off of him. He used his finger to wipe the trail of spit that tied you to him, confusion written all over your face. He was so carried away by the fleeting spurts of satisfaction that he forgot all about his uncovered feelings.
“Spencer? You stopped me before you finished,” you spoke, concerned that he regretted what happened.
It wasn’t the first time the two of you had had sex, but it was the first time he finally unearthed his love for you that was embedded deep inside him.
He stopped himself before he could expose his new finding, afraid that he’d scare you off while the two of you were in such a vulnerable state.
“Let me take care of you,” he cooed, a soft look of love on his face. He helped you to your feet, brushing the hair that stuck to the side of your face behind your ear.
“No, this is about you,” you tried to reason with him, thoughts whirling from his touch.
He shook his head. “No, this is about us.”
His hands went down to your pants, sliding them off sensually as he leaned down to kiss your neck with nothing but love and adoration each time he came in contact with your skin. You wrapped your arms around him, leaning into his touch and allowing him to take over your body.
“Let me take care of you,” he mumbled against your skin, fingers working to undress you quickly.
He slid your pants down your body, using his hands to lead you into his room. The two of you giggled every time you bumped into a wall, finally landing on the edge of his bed.
Instead of joining you on top of the mattress, he slid to his knees and began to kiss up your thighs. You gasped while his hands roamed your body to chart the uncharted, to explore the body he loved the most with a newfound mission.
You were everything to him and he needed to show you.
His fingers played with the waistband of your underwear as he slowly made his way to your core on his directed route up your inner thighs. Every kiss, every touch had you melting into him— your hands moving to his head and playing with hair to distract yourself from the painful build up of anticipation.
Instead of discarding your underwear on the floor like he usually would, Spencer moved it aside as he continued to kiss up towards you. He finally reached his destination and kissed your clit, a loud and audible moan fell from your lips.
You pulled tighter on his hair which only encouraged him to continue, sending him deeper into you as he licked up the wetness that had built up earlier. Without hesitation, he slicked his fingers with your arousal and slid two fingers inside you while he sucked at your clit.
You wrapped your legs around him in a visceral reaction to the delightful buzz of ecstasy that stemmed from where he was pumping his fingers inside you. You couldn’t help but pull him closer into you while you rocked your hips into his lips that worked tirelessly to pleasure you.
His one free hand snaked around to your back, skillfully unclasping your bra from behind and sliding it off of you. He immediately wrapped his hand around your breast, taking your nipple in between his fingers to amplify the immense sensation of paradise.
You were beautiful inside and out, he didn’t need any light to see that. Every motion of his hand, every placement of his lips worked to show you how much he loved you whether or not you knew it. He couldn’t contain the overflowing feelings inside him, trying his best to convert the unfathomable depths of his love into something tangible.
Nothing else mattered, not the storm or the power outage— the only thing that mattered to him was what was gifted to him by the divine, you.
You arched your back when he began to curl his fingers, hitting your g-spot and stimulating you from the inside out. He didn’t need to try hard to get you to your climax, you were already fast-approaching your high when you kissed him.
“Spence,” you moaned, “Spencer…”
He groaned into you, the vibration almost tipping you over the edge of your tightrope. He knew you were almost there, quickening his pace to send you over the edge with passion and lust. Before you knew it, the end had arrived to catch you convulsing with your seismic orgasm.
He continued to fuck you with his fingers despite your already-reached climax, his fingers using your cum to move deeper inside you without any resistance. He lifted his face from your clit, seeing you with your head buried in his sheets as you seethed with lush euphoria.
“Sp- Spencer,” you struggled to get the words out, delirious from the overstimulation, “P- please.”
“I know, darling. I know,” he comforted, running his hands across your stomach to soothe your multifaceted pleasure, “One more time for me, show me how good I make you feel. Can you do that for me, hm?”
He waited for your answer which came in the form of a frantic nod, hands pushing him back towards your throbbing cunt. Spencer smiled, going back to sucking and nipping your clit lightly. His fingers didn’t let up as they continued to thrust into you at a fatal rate.
All the air was sucked out from your lungs, barely being able to breathe as the thoughts of him overtook your body. He was all you could think about, making you feel like no one else ever had. The intensity of your orgasm had been heightened in the dark since you were unable to see or anticipate his next moves, only feeling him hit you with every lecherous move as they came.
You writhed in his grasp and grasped at his soaked sheet as you reached your second orgasm of the night. You tried to stifle your moans by biting your lips but the overwhelming rapture scared away all the logic in your brain, the lewd sounds falling freely from you to Spencer’s satisfaction.
“Good girl,” he cooed, removing his fingers from inside you, “I knew you could do it.”
As your consciousness returned to your body, you pulled Spencer up to you. He planted his lips on yours, the addicting taste of the both of your mixing on his tongue. He wrapped his arm under you and pulled you up further onto the bed while sliding off your underwear he had previously left on. Working his way up your body, Spencer left fiery kisses that burned your skin with a scorching heat that crept up to your face.
No words were exchanged, the feeling of both your bodies flush against the other was enough to communicate the need for one another. He couldn’t brush away the thought of saying it out loud, saying that he loved you out loud. It was a dream and a gamble he wasn’t sure he was willing to take.
Was it enough for him to keep quiet until he was sure that you felt the same way, or was he too impatient to wait— having to give in to the all-consuming and loving sentiment that tormented his heart?
He had never felt so anxious to say something seemingly so trivial. Everything he did told you that he loved you but why wasn’t it enough for him?
“Spencer,” you huffed breathily, pulling him closer into your body until he could feel the longing beats of your heart clearly through your breast, “I need you.”
He laughed, “I know, baby. I’m getting there.”
He used his fingers to slick his dick with your cum, pumping a couple of times before lining himself up with your entrance. He met your eyes, propped up on one of his hands and supported by your touch. You were ready for him, the same butterflies that were in his stomach when he first met you reappearing in such a crude situation.
You nodded as he entered you slowly. He silenced you with a kiss, absorbing the loud sound of your gratification with his mouth.
He thrust into you slowly at first, picking up his pace with each passing moment. His rhythm was greedy, increasing in speed at a crazed and animalistic rate as he tried to quell the part of him dying to let out a secret that wasn’t deemed his to keep.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to fuck you deeper with each passing stroke inside you. He groaned into your ear, biting slightly to repress the urge to blurt it out. Your nails raked across his back as you processed the feeling of him inside you.
“Look at you,” he moaned, “You’re so pretty, fuck, taking my dick so well.”
You nodded as he kissed the tears away from your eyes, his heart breaking at the sight of how helpless you looked beneath him. How could he keep it in when all you did was take down every single defense he put up with nothing but a glance in his direction.
Everything in that moment stopped, nothing else mattered. It was just you and him feeling the other in a timeless act that worked to dispel the fears and plaguing feelings of the real world. You were his fantasy, a break from the terrors of real life— his compelling fiction in a world of nightmarish reality.
He placed his forehead against yours with his cock slamming into you, torn to shreds by the passion you instilled inside of him. The feeling of your clenching around him, wet and hot, defeated the restraint he had worked so hard to keep. All the rain in the world, all the darkness and thunder could never scare him away from you as his surroundings blurred— the only clarity in his life was provided by his love for you.
“Fuck,” you screamed, shuddering beneath him with your nails carving your unadulterated pleasure into his back so he’d never forget— they were scars he didn’t mind keeping.
Tears pricked your eyes after reaching your third high, pushing his hair out of his face. He moaned a slew of profanities right as his release surged through his body in an unrelenting abruptness that challenged that of his pace.
He collapsed on top of you, the warmth of his cum inside of you helping you come back to yourself after your otherworldly experience. You kissed his cheek, effectively waking him up from his short-lived break from what took so much out of him. He rolled over to lay beside you after gently pulling out, grabbing a tissue on his nightstand to clean up the mixed mess of your arousal before it had a chance to slide down your thigh uncomfortably.
“That wasn’t what I expected when I said I needed to be distracted,” he laughed, hoping to aerate the tension that built up after the intense sex you just had.
You giggled, “Did you want me to do something else?”
“No,” he admitted shyly, “I don’t think I’d want it any other way.
The air was quiet, stilling, contemplative. He looked into your eyes and wondered how he ever thought he could walk away from you, his treasure in a sea hidden among the ordinary.
“I never stood a chance,” he whispered, hands wiping away the bead of sweat that ran down your forehead and tucking your knotted hair behind your ear.
You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean?” You asked, brushing your fingers up against his jaw which only added a pink tinge to his cheeks.
“I thought that I could ignore my curiosity when I first saw you and then I thought I could keep things casual when we started going out, but I never stood a chance… not against you. There was no way I couldn’t love you.”
“Spence…”
He smiled grimly, preparing himself for the rejection he knew he’d face. “You don’t have to say it back, I know it’s really soon and you may not ever feel the same way. I just needed to tell you that I-”
“I love you too, Spencer.” Your words lit a little ember inside him, fueling the dangerous hope that resided in his heart.
“You don’t have to lie.”
You shook your head. “I’m not,” you cupped his face and leaned in closer to give him a kiss, pulling away and looking into his eyes with a truth that shined brighter than the sun, “I promise. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he laughed, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. You wrapped your arms around him, giggling at how unsure he was when you had felt that way for days on end— trying to figure out a good way to confess your feelings.
The mystery was solved, case closed like the many he tackled on his job, except this one was much harder. He had never been so blinded by something so simple.
He loved you and he wasn’t afraid of the dark, no longer quivering alone like he did as a child.
Spencer realized that he really didn’t need any light to see, not when he had you…
Hi Sage! I was so happy when I saw you are gonna write for criminal minds! Can I request some soft smut with Spencer? Maybe his and reader’s first time together, they have to share a bed on a case or something like that. I love your writing so much and I would love to see how you’d write Spence ❤️ thank you for sharing your writing!!
𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ♡
Thank you so much for the sweet words and the lovely request dear anon! ♡ I had such a good time writing this, and I can't wait to write more for Spencer!
Spencer Reid x afab!reader || Masterlist || Spencer playlist
summary: Having to share a room with one of your fellow BAU agents is not an uncommon occurrence, and that agent being Spencer is not new either. The two of you have roomed together on multiple occasions before, but all previous instances have been different from this one. In all those prior cases, you both had separate beds, but not this time.
word count: 7.3k
warning/tags: Smut! (18+, mdni!) Mutual pining. Friends/colleagues to lovers. Idiots in love. Slightly awkward. A hint of angst, but mostly just fluff. Nightmares. Wet dreams. Inexperienced (but not virgin) Spencer. Vaginal fingering. Unprotected p in v. Creampie. I haven’t had time to proofread so sorry if there’s any mistakes.
In many ways the room is about as ordinary as any small town hotel room can be. However, one aspect instantly catches your attention upon opening the door - the room only has one bed…
As you step further into the room, you exchange a bewildered glance with Spencer, both unsure of how to proceed. It is a big bed, more than enough room for the both of you to be able to sleep comfortably next to each other, but despite how good of friends you and Spencer are, something about it feels weirdly intimate.
Having to room with one of your fellow BAU agents on cases is not uncommon, and sharing a room with Spencer isn’t new either. The two of you have roomed together on multiple occasions before, but previous instances were distinct from this one. In all those prior times, you both had separate beds.
“I, uhm… I can sleep on the floor,” Spencer suggests tentatively, breaking the silence that had filled the room. His voice is hesitant, almost as if he’s apprehensive about suggesting such a thing.
You look at him, noticing the slight blush on his cheeks as he avoids eye contact. It is clear that he doesn’t want to inconvenience you or make you feel uncomfortable by overstepping any boundaries.
But there is absolutely no way that you’re going to let Spencer sleep on the cold, hard floor, especially after a long day of chasing down an UnSub. “You’re not sleeping on the floor, Spence,” you protest, shaking your head gently. “There is more than enough room on the bed; we can put some pillows between us if that’ll make you more comfortable,” you suggest. You can see his apprehension, his discomfort at the idea of encroaching on your personal space.
In a way it’s very sweet, you know Spencer well, and you know how little he would enjoy lying on the floor, yet he is willing to give up his own comfort for you.
But at the same time you can’t help but feel a little pang of… Of what exactly you’re not sure. Disappointment maybe, or even longing? And a little irrational fear that maybe he actually finds sleeping next to you so uncomfortable that he would prefer the floor.
You have tried to suppress your feelings for Spencer for a long time, you have had a crush on him from the moment you first joined the BAU three years ago, but the more you got to know him, and the deeper your friendship deepend the deeper your feelings for him also grew.
You know that you’re being irrational, but you can’t help but wonder if Spencer actually feels uncomfortable by the idea of sharing a bed with you or if it’s something else entirely. As you continue to stare at him, hoping for a clue, Spencer nervously fidgets with the strap of his bag which he still hasn’t put down.
“Sure, pillows…” he finally speaks, his voice trailing off. You can tell he’s hesitant, it’s clear that the idea of sharing a bed with you is not something he had anticipated or prepared for.
You take a step closer to Spencer, trying to ease the tension that has settled between you. “Spencer, it’s going to be okay. We’ve slept in the same room many times before, remember? This is just a little different, but I’ll promise to stay on my side of the bed,” you assure him, offering a small smile.
Spencer glances over at you, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before he takes a deep breath andnodding slowly as he finally sets his bag down and starts to remove his jacket. His movements are deliberate, almost mechanical, as if he’s trying to distract himself from the tension in the room. Lost in your thoughts, you find yourself stealing glances at him. You watch his every movement, wondering if there’s more to his unease than just sharing a bed. As he hangs his jacket neatly on the back of a chair, you can’t help but notice the way his fingers tremble ever so slightly.
“Do you want the bathroom first?” you ask, trying to break the silence and bring some normalcy back into the situation. Spencer looks up at you, his eyes reflecting gratitude for the distraction.
“Uh, yeah, that sounds good,” he replies, his voice slightly shaky. He walks past you towards the bathroom, his steps quick and purposeful.
While he’s in the bathroom, you take a moment to collect your thoughts, as you start to take out your pajamas and toiletries from your bag before going over to the bed, placing a few pillows in a row in the middle of the mattress. The tension in the room is palpable, and you can’t help but wonder if there’s something more going on with Spencer. You’ve always had a strong connection with him, but lately, there have been moments when you’ve sensed a shift in his behavior towards you. It’s hard to put into words, but there’s a certain longing and vulnerability that seems to surface whenever you’re together.
As you ponder these thoughts, Spencer emerges from the bathroom. He’s changed into his pajamas, checkered flannel bottoms and a long sleeved cotton t-shirt, his hair damp from his shower. You can’t help but notice how adorable he looks. There is something so soft looking over him like this, almost domestic and your heart skips a beat.
“Your turn,” he says softly, gesturing towards the bathroom. You nod and make your way inside, trying to steady your own racing heart.
The warm water from the shower helps to calm your nerves, but your mind is still filled with questions. What if there’s a chance that Spencer feels the same way? What if this shared bed situation could bring you closer together?
You finish your shower and step out, wrapping a towel around yourself. As you reach for your pajamas, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm and not let your emotions get the best of you, yes you have developed feelings for Spencer but first and foremost he is your friend and, and you can’t start assuming things. He is allowed to find sharing a bed with you awkward.
When you return to the room, Spencer is already tucked into one side of the bed, the one closest to the door, his back turned towards you, and you can’t help but notice that he is far closer to the edge of the mattress than he needs to be. The only light in the room now coming from the bedside lamp on the side of the bed that has been assigned to you by Spencer.
You quietly slip into your side, letting the heavy comforter cover your body as you lay down on your back, looking over at Spencer’s back for a short moment before looking back up into the ceiling.
The proximity between you is both exhilarating and nerve-wracking, as you lie there, so close to each other yet so far away. You take a deep breath before you break the silence once again. “Ready to turn off the light?”
Spencer shifts slightly, his voice barely above a whisper as he responds, “Yeah, sure.” You reach over and switch off your lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The only source of light now is the faint glow of moonlight coming shining through the blinds.
As you lay there, your mind starts to wander, replaying all the moments you’ve shared with Spencer over the years. The late-night conversations, the shared laughter, the times he’s been there for you when you needed someone the most. Each memory fills you with a mixture of warmth and longing.
“Good night, Spence,” you utter softly into the darkness,
“Night,” he replies, his voice barely audible in the quiet space and the room falls silent once again.
You let out the softest of sighs as you close your eyes, finally letting yourself feel how tired you really are, slowly letting yourself try to surrender to sleep.
· · ·
It’s still dark in the room as you wake up, only an hour or two have passed since you fell asleep, and for just about half a second you get to wonder what had woken you so abruptly before the reason becomes clear to you.
It is Spencer who woke you. In the dimly lit room, his agitated body twists and contorts restlessly next to you. You turn around so you’re facing him, propping yourself up on your elbow so you’re slightly hovering over him, the darkness of the room shadowing his face, but as your eyes get used to the dark you notice the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, his eyebrows knitted and his breathing erratic and shallow.
Unintelligible, fearful murmurs escape his lips, carrying traces of an impending terror. With a gentle touch, you place your hand on his shoulder, hoping to offer some comfort as you try to gently pull him out of his nightmare.
“Spencer,” you say softly. “Spencer, wake up.”
His eyes fly open, wide with fear, his gaze darting around for a second or two, before they lock with yours which seems to calm him down a little. -
“I’m sorry, I woke you,” he mutters, his rapid breathing slowly coming under control.
“Spence, it’s okay, I get them too,” you remind him. “We all do.”
“I-I know… this one was just so real…” Spencer takes a moment, his brows knitted as if he’s contemplating whether to share the details or simply let the disturbing dream fade away. “You were there,” he finally says, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I couldn’t get to you in time, I-I kept running but I didn’t get any closer a-and…” but then he stops, like he can’t get himself to continue.
You feel how your heart clenches at his words, he had a nightmare about you…
“Well, I’m right here, and I’m okay,” you reassure him, offering a soft smile before you place a gentle hand on his shoulder as if to emphasize your statement, hoping to offer some comfort.
He places his own hand on top of yours, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“You think you can go back to sleep?” you ask him as you finally remove your hand from his shoulder.
“Yeah, I think so,” he says and the two of you both lay back down on the mattress, but a short silence falls over the room before Spencer speaks again. “Would it be okay if we removed the pillows?”
“Of course,” you whisper back, removing the pillows. There is still a decent gap between you, but the cushioned wall is now gone. You yearn to close the gap, wanting to reach out for him, to comfort him with an embrace, but you just stay on your side of the bed. This can be enough, you can live with just being his friend, despite how your heart yearns for more.
“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, now laying on his back instead of facing away from you like last time you said goodnight.
“Goodnight,” you whisper back, “and, Spence?” you add.
“Yeah?”
“Remember you can always talk to me if you need it, I know how it feels.”
A beat of silence. “Yeah, I know, and thank you, it’s really nice to know that.”
You let out a soft sigh as you finally close your eyes again. “Of course, that is what friends are for.”
“Yeah, friends…” he mumbles, so low you barely hear it.
But you do hear it, and you ponder over it a little as you again begin to slowly drift off to sleep, and as you find yourself in the liminal space between wakefulness and slumber. Each breath you take seems to synchronize with Spencer’s soft breathing. In the darkness, your thoughts become even more encompassed by the draw you feel towards him, the yearning to hold him, to be held by him.
Suddenly, you feel a shift in the bed, and your heart skips a beat. Did Spencer just move closer to you? You open your eyes to find him curled up, facing your direction. His features softened, no longer affected by his nightmare, but now relaxed in sleep. It takes all of your willpower not to reach out and touch his tousled curls, to trace the contours of his face.
But you don’t. You don’t want to risk jeopardizing the friendship you share. As much as you yearn for more, you’re determined not to overstep any boundaries.
With a heavy sigh, you turn away from Spencer, facing the wall instead. Your emotions are in disarray, swirling within you like a tempestuous storm. The closeness you currently have, even if it’s just a hair’s breadth away, feels agonizingly bittersweet.
As you drift closer to sleep, nestled in the comfort of the bed, you feel a sense of contentment and tranquility. Despite the uncertainty and longing, there is solace in the silent presence of Spencer beside you. And for now, that is enough.
· · ·
You are stirred from sleep once again later in the night. This time, it is a gradual, more peaceful transition into consciousness. A sense of warmth and snugness engulfing you, making you fill with a sense of complete safety and comfort, your eyes still closed and your mind still groggy from sleep.
As you slowly emerge from your drowsy state, it takes a moment for you to identify the source of your comfort. As time passes, and you’re pulled enough out of your sleepy daze you start to become aware of the gentle movements against your body, and you start to perceive the muffled sounds emanating from beside you, and confusion is washing over you for a short moment before you remember where you are. Remembering that you’re in a hotel room in a small town in Nebraska, a hotel room which you’re sharing with Spencer, a hotel room that only has one bed…
Your eyes flutter open as Spencer’s arms squeeze you a little tighter, your back is pressed up against his chest and your legs are tangled under the warm covers. His steady breath gently fan the back of your neck, his lips ghosting over your skin, grazing just over your pulse point.
And it is now, as you are being pressed tight up against him, that you feel it. How he gently is rocking against you. How the outline of his hard cock is pressing against the curve of your ass. You let out a faint gasp, as a warm shiver runs through you right down to your now throbbing cunt.
Your heart skips a beat, overwhelmed by the intensity of this unexpected intimacy from Spencer. You are not completely sure what to do, what Spencer would prefer you to do in this situation. There is no way you’re gonna be able to wiggle out of his embrace without risking waking him. You should probably wake him, right?
You can’t believe that this is really happening, that you really are in this position with Spencer right now. But you know that you can’t read too much into it, that people just get wet dreams sometimes, that this is just a physical reaction. He didn’t even want to share the bed with you in the first place, and you were the one who insisted on it. As much as you dread having to face him in this position, you really should wake him.
You know Spencer, you know that he will feel embarrassed when you wake him, but it will be nowhere near as bad as the betrayal he will feel if he finds out that you didn’t stop this.
Taking a deep breath, you start to gently nudge Spencer awake, careful not to startle him. “Spencer,” you say gently, slightly wiggling in his embrace as you try to face him. “Spencer, wake up.”
As he stirs, his eyes flutter open, and he looks at you with a mixture of confusion and sleepiness, before a look of absolute horror overtakes his face, his eyes filling with panic. His embrace immediately loosens, and he quickly pulls away from you. The distance between your bodies, making you feel a sudden pang of emptiness as he bolts off the bed.
“I- I’m so sorry,” he stutters, his voice frantic. “I don't know what came over me. This isn’t... I didn’t mean to…” His words trail off, and he looks utterly mortified.
“Spence, it’s okay,” you try to reassure him, watching as he begins to pace back and forth in the small room, and start to gather his belongings, his eyes darting around the room anxiously, as if searching for an escape. “Spencer?” you try again, hoping to bring him back from the edge of his spiraling thoughts. You get out of the bed, your bare feet hitting the cold floorboards.
But Spencer doesn’t seem to even hear you, he just grabs his bag and starts stuffing his belongings inside, his movements frantic and uncoordinated. “I-I’ll leave,” he begins, his voice strained with guilt and embarrassment.
“Spencer, please,” you say softly, stepping around the bed to get to him. “You don’t have to leave.”
He is halfway through the bathroom door by now, his bag dropping from his shoulder. Tears are pooling in his eyes, his expression tortured. “I can’t stay,” he says, his voice quivering. “I made you uncomfortable...”
“Spence,” you try again, now standing only a few steps from him.
“No… I made you uncomfortable, and I-I’m so sorry, I just- I mean- or no, I didn’t mean…” he begins to ramble before giving up and burying his face in his hands.
Your heart aches at his words, at the pain in his eyes. You never wanted this to happen, never wanted to make him feel like this. “Spence, you could never make me uncomfortable” you say, trying to keep your voice as steady and comforting as you can, your heart thumping loudly in your chest.
“You don’t have to say that,” he begins, but you cut him off before he can start spiraling even more than he already is.
“I do, Spence, cause it’s true. You haven’t made me uncomfortable, okay?” you need him to believe you, you are colleagues and you’ll have to see each other everyday, but also, and more importantly, he is your friend and he means so much to you, you just can’t lose him. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I promise. Please, look at me.”
You take a step closer to Spencer, reaching out for him, gently placing your hand on his trembling shoulder. Sensing the depth of his distress, you speak softly, attempting to soothe him further, and he finally looks at you, his damp eyes filled with shame and embarrassment.
“I... I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he stammers, his voice shaky. “I never wanted to make you uncomfortable or take advantage of you. I don’t even know why I…”
You interrupt him gently, placing a hand on his cheek to bring his attention back to you. “Spencer, listen to me. It’s alright.”
He searches your eyes, seeking reassurance. A moment passes before he finally speaks. “Are you sure it’s alright?” vulnerability shining through his words.
“Yes, Spence… It’s alright,” you feel sad, because as selfish as it is, you do wish your words weren’t true, wish that it did mean something, but you have to ignore that for now. It’s not fair to be selfish right now, what you need is to comfort Spencer and reassure him that it’s okay. You have to ignore how good it felt to feel him against your body, having him grinding against you, having his lean arms around you…
“What happened... It was just a physical reaction and I don’t hold it against you. I know you didn’t mean for it to happen, and it’s not like you can control your dreams,” you offer him a small smile, one that you hope will convince him that you mean what you’re saying, but it feels bittersweet as you say your next words. “I know it didn’t mean anything.”
Spencer’s shoulders visibly slump as he absorbs your words. He still looks deeply conflicted, but your reassurance seems to have calmed him down slightly. “That’s not true…” he murmurs, he sounds unsure, almost shy as he says it, yet there is a determination flickering in his hazel brown eyes.
That’s not true..? You wonder if he is going to disagree with your statement about not being able to control dreams and launch into an extensive explanation of the technicalities of lucid dreaming, but what he says instead makes your heart flutter and fills you with a sense of hope. “It did mean something,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your breath catches in your throat at his words. The room feels charged with tension, the air thick with uncertainty. You take a step closer to him, your hand still resting gently on his cheek. “Spencer, what do you mean?” you ask, your voice soft and filled with curiosity. And a realization courses through your body, he didn’t just have a wet dream, he had a wet dream about you…
He takes a deep breath, his eyes locked with yours. “You mean so much to me. My dreams, my nightmares, my…” he trails off, a pink blush spreading across his cheeks, my wet dreams, his blush is telling. “My waking thoughts, they always end up being about you.”
You feel your heart swell, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling within you. Spencer’s words hang in the air, leaving you momentarily breathless. Unable to contain your own feelings any longer. You close the last distance between you, so close that you now can feel the heat radiating from his body, your hand sliding from his cheek to the back of his neck. Your touch is gentle, craving a connection, desperate to convey your own emotions. “Spencer,” you whisper, your voice filled with a tenderness you can no longer hide. “It’s the same for me.”
Spencer’s eyes widen in surprise, his breath hitching in his throat. It takes a moment for his words to find their way back to him. “You...you feel the same way?” he says, almost breathlessly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of deception. “You’re not just saying this to make me feel better?”
You shake your head, your voice filled with sincerity. “No. I wouldn’t say this if I didn’t mean it.”
Relief floods his features, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. His pretty, pretty lips which look so soft and so damn kissable… “Oh…” is all he manages to say, his voice filled with soft gentle wonder.
You can see how the weight is slowly lifting off of his shoulders, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of relief and happiness. He reaches out to take your free hand in his. He moves his other hand to your waist, at first not fully committing to the touch, his fingers gently ghosting over your pajamas, but with a soft smile of encouragement from you he gently places his palm against you, and his touch sends a wave of warmth through your body.
The room seems to shrink, the world outside becoming distant and irrelevant. At this moment, it’s like the two of you are the only two people left on this earth. Spencer’s lips part slightly, as if he wants to say something more, but the words remain trapped in his throat. Instead, he leans in, his breath mingling with yours, and then, his lips brush against yours in the softest, most tentative of kisses.
It’s a moment of pure vulnerability, and raw emotion. The kiss is a little hesitant at first yet filled with longing. The warmth of his lips against yours creates an electric current that surges through your entire body, igniting a fire within you. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him, as if he never wants to let you go. The possessiveness in his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself losing all sense of restraint.
In this moment, the world outside doesn’t matter. All that matters is the connection between you and Spencer, the warmth that courses through your veins with every touch and every kiss. You feel how heat is pooling in your stomach.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, lightly tugging on the wavy strands, making him gently moan into the kiss as your other hand finds its way to his face, caressing his cheeks as if trying to convey all the feelings you have bottled up inside.
The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate and desperate, as if both of you have been longing for this moment for far too long. It’s a dance of tongues and teeth, a melding of souls, and you can’t help but lose yourself in the sensations. The taste of his lips, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the way he pulls you closer as if he wants to merge your bodies into one.
Desire courses through you, igniting a fire within that consumes every rational thought. You press yourself flush against him, unable to stop your body from slowly grinding against him as the need for more contact intensifies, making Spencer moan into the kiss, which only makes your own desire for him grow even stronger. Every touch, every movement sends a jolt of anticipation through your body, the friction between you building a deliciously tantalizing tension.
The need for more becomes unbearable, but your lungs start to burn and you finally break the heated kiss to get a breath of air. His lips hovering mere inches from yours, his breath warm and ragged. The room is filled with thick tension as you lock eyes, the intensity between you crackling with electricity. You take a moment to steady your own breath before asking him, a little shyly, what you want to know the most in this moment. “Wanna tell me about your dream?”
Your words hang in the air, a challenge and an invitation, as you search his gaze for approval. He looks into your eyes, his own filled with a mix of desire and vulnerability. “How…” He takes a deep, steadying breath, before continuing. “How about I show you instead?”
You feel your heart skip a beat at his words, a rush of excitement and anticipation flooding through you. Without hesitation, you nod your head, your voice barely above a whisper as you respond, “I’d like that.”
You reach for his hand, guiding him towards the bed. As you lay down, he hovers above you, his eyes filled with a mixture of passion, desire, and a hint of vulnerability. The vulnerability only makes you want him more, to show him that the connection you both share is real, that it’s more than just a passing moment of lust.
You place a hand at the back of his neck, drawing him down towards you, and his lips meet yours in another fervent kiss. The weight of his body pressing against you sends a thrill through your veins, a delicious ache building between your thighs. You bring your legs up, wrapping them around him, making him let out a low grunt.
His mouth leaves your lips to instead trail down along your jawline, down your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses in their wake. His movements start out slightly clumsy, but he is very quick to adapt and adjust, finding a rhythm that suits both of you. You tilt your head back, giving him better access, surrendering yourself to the pleasure that ripples through your body with each touch of his lips. His hands move up the sides of your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
“Fuck, Spence,” you whine. Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging gently, urging him on. His lips find their way to your collarbone, and he nips at the sensitive flesh, causing a gasp to escape your lips. The sensation sends a jolt straight to your core, and you can feel yourself growing wetter and wetter with desire for him.
His fingers dip beneath the hem of your shirt, skimming along the curve of your waist, his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. You arch your back, silently begging for more, and he obliges, his hands slipping further up until they find your breasts, his thumbs rubbing softly over your hardened nipples. A low moan escapes your mouth, and his lips find yours once again, swallowing the sound and pouring his own desire into the kiss before pulling away to speak. “We… we weren’t wearing this much clothes… In my dream.”
As the words tumble from his lips, you feel a surge of anticipation flood through you. The desire to match his dream, to fulfill his fantasies, takes hold of you. With a breathless chuckle, followed by an encouraging smile you nod and begin to undo the buttons of your pajama shirt, slowly revealing your bare skin to his hungry gaze. His eyes darken with desire as he watches the fabric slip off your shoulders and expose your breasts fully to him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and reverence.
Spencer’s hands tremble slightly as he reaches out, gently cupping your breasts, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His eyes never leave yours as he experiments with different pressures and strokes, learning the map of your body through touch. Each caress sets you ablaze, igniting a fire within you that only he can satisfy.
“I...I never imagined this could be real,” Spencer admits, his voice laced with awe and reverence. “To have you like this, to be able to touch you, it’s beyond anything I ever dreamed of.”
His words melt into the air, caressing your senses as you guide his hands down your body, your breath hitching with each movement. The heat between your legs intensifies, the ache growing unbearable as his fingers brush against your heated, still covered core.
“Then let’s get rid of the rest of our clothes,” you whisper, your voice filled with anticipation and desire. With shaking hands, you help Spencer undress, removing his shirt and pants after he has shed you of your own pants.
The air is thick with tension, as the only things that are now covering the two of you being your own panties and Spencer’s gray boxer briefs. You swallow, the sight of him making a hot shiver run through your body, right down to your throbbing cunt, making you squeeze your thighs together. The imposing size of the bulge in his underwear only adds to the anticipation that swirls inside you. The dark spot of precum on the gray cotton, making you drool and without a second thought, you slide your hand down to where his arousal strains against the garment, palming him gently through the fabric, a low groan escapes his lips, the sound music to your ears.
“Shouldn’t we get these off too?” Your voice takes on a sultry tone as you gently squeeze him through his underwear.
Another groan, this one a little more whiny, falls from his lips, as he nods eagerly.
You let out a gasp as he follows your suggestion, and slides off this last item of clothing. His hard cock springs free, hitting his stomach. He is big, thick and throbbing with a bead of precum at the tip that you would love to lick off of him. You have never seen a more mouthwatering cock in your life, and if it wasn’t because you were so damn desperate to have him inside of you, you would get on your knees and choke on him in this instant. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a really pretty cock, Spence?”
“N-no…”
“Well, you do,” you assure him. Spencer’s cheeks flush by your bold compliment as you reach out for him. “Now come here, pretty boy,” you say, pulling him down on you again and he doesn’t hesitate, capturing your lips once again, but not before telling you how beautiful you are.
“Can’t concentrate sometimes, you’re so beautiful, it’s distracting,” he murmurs between kisses. “And you’re always so sweet to me, to everyone, and so fucking sexy,” he whispers against your lips. The warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine, intensifying the electricity between you.
You smile into the kiss, feeling an overwhelming surge of affection for Spencer. His words touch a deep, insecure part of your heart that you rarely expose to anyone. It’s moments like these when you realize just how lucky you are to have him in your life, and how deeply you want him to play an even bigger role than he already does.
Breaking away from the kiss, you gaze into Spencer’s expressive eyes, his pupils blown wide with lust and affection. “I could say all that about you too, you know” you confess, sincerity lacing your voice as you bring your hand up to push a stray curl away from his face. “You can be very distracting too, Dr. Reid,” you whisper, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you gently rut your clothed pussy up against his erection as you address him by his title.
A desperate grunt escapes his lips as he feels the friction between your bodies. He leans his forehead against yours, his voice husky with anticipation. “God, you have no idea how badly I want you,” he breathes, his voice thick with desire. You can feel his body trembling against yours, the need radiating off of him in waves.
“Me too, Spence,” you pant, you are now grinding against him in a slow, sloppy rhythm, “need to have you inside of me so bad.” you confess. “Do you have a condom?”
Spencer’s eyes widen slightly at your question, a mix of desire and concern flickering across his face. “No… I didn’t think... I-I mean, it’s not something I… I didn’t expect...this,” Spencer stammers, his cheeks turning pink. “I didn’t think we would…”
“It’s okay, Spencer,” you say, your voice filled with understanding, gently cupping his face in your hands, you take a little pause before continuing, “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean... so if you want…” you trail off, wanting him to be the one to make the decision
Spencer takes a moment to process your words, his expression shifting from surprise to relief. He exhales a shaky breath, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. “I-I’ve never done this without a condom…” he confesses, blushing even more, “not that I’ve done this a whole lot…” he says, his voice filled with vulnerability.
You have been unsure about how experienced Spencer is but his honesty and vulnerability only make you appreciate him more. You stroke his cheek gently, comforting him with your touch. You are just about to tell him that it is okay, and that you don’t have to do anything he is not ready for and that you can stop if he isn’t feeling like doing this anymore, but Spencer speaks before you have a chance to say any of this.
“But I want to do it all with you,” he says, his voice filled with determination and longing. “I trust you.”
His words send a surge of warmth through your body, a reassurance that he is fully committed to this moment and to exploring the depths of your connection. You lean in, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss, conveying both your love and desire for him.
Now that you finally know how it feels to kiss him after having pondered over it for so long you just can’t stop, his lips too intoxicating, too addictive. “I trust you too, Spence,”you murmur against his lips, your voice laden with affection and honesty as you spread your legs, inviting him to take the next step.
Spencer’s eyes flicker with a mix of desire and admiration as he brings his hands down to skim over the thin, and by now soaked, fabric of your panties, you arch your back, silently begging for more.
A hungry expression dances over his features before he slides the fabric aside, his touch sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. His fingers trail through the wetness already pooling between your legs, spreading out your arousal as he circles your clit. A shudder runs through you, your back arching off the mattress as pleasure courses through your veins. He continues to tease you, his touch feather-light yet impossibly intense.
“You’re so wet,” he says intrigued, and you find his fascination utterly endearing.
“Well, it’s all for you, Spence,” you moan in response as Spencer’s fingers glide over your slick folds, his touch becoming more purposeful and assertive. The anticipation builds inside you, a mixture of desire and nervous excitement. You watch Spencer’s face for any signs of hesitation or uncertainty, but all you find is a hunger that matches your own as he slides a finger inside of you. Your breath hitches as he curls his finger, hitting a spot deep inside that sends a wave of pleasure crashing through your body. You grip the sheets, your nails digging into the fabric as Spencer adds another finger, stretching you and filling you up.
The room fills with your moans and gasps, the sound of your pleasure mixing with the wet sounds of his fingers working you. You can feel your walls tightening around him, a signal that you’re close to the edge. Sensing your impending release, Spencer leans down, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss as he continues to thrust his fingers inside you. The combination of his touch and his kiss sends you spiraling over the edge, waves of ecstasy washing over you.
You cling to Spencer, your body trembling with pleasure as he guides you through your orgasm, his fingers never faltering in their movements. As your climax subsides, he withdraws his fingers slowly, his gaze locked with yours. You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as the intensity of the moment washes over you.
“That was...amazing,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe. You smile, feeling a surge of pride and contentment wash over you.
“You’re amazing,” you reply, your voice filled with love.
“I want to be inside you so badly,” Spencer confesses, his voice filled with desire and urgency. His eyes bore into yours, pleading for your permission. You can see the vulnerability and longing in his gaze, making your heart swell with affection for him.
With a nod, you give him your consent, silently urging him to take the next step. and he gets up on his knees. His erection stands tall, glistening with anticipation. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he slowly positions himself between your legs, his hands trembling slightly as he supports his weight above you, his gaze never leaving yours.
As he slowly enters you, a rush of pleasure courses through your body. Inch by inch, he fills you, stretching you in the most delicious way. A low moan escapes your lips, the sensation overwhelming yet incredibly satisfying. Spencer’s eyes never leave yours, his expression transitioning from concentration to blissful surrender.
Once he’s fully inside you, he pauses, allowing you both to savor the feeling of being intimately connected. You run your hands over his back, sending shivers down his spine as you guide him to start moving. With each thrust, waves of pleasure crash through you, igniting a fire that burns brightly between you.
“Spencer,” you whisper breathlessly, your voice filled with need, “you feel amazing.”
He whimpers in response, his rhythm picking up as both your bodies move in perfect synchronization. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, a raw display of the passion simmering between you.
The room is filled with the sounds of your bodies colliding, the bed creaking in rhythm with your passionate movements. Spencer’s thrusts become deeper and more assertive, his movements guided by pure instinct and the desire to please you. He holds nothing back, giving himself to you completely.
“You’re so tight,” he groans, his voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and disbelief. “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”
You dig your nails into his back, urging him on. “Don’t hold back, Spencer,” you gasp, your voice laced with urgency. “Give it to me, all of it.”
Your hands roam his body, tracing the contours of his lean muscles, urging him on with every touch. His lips find yours in a desperate kiss, each one filled with a mixture of love, desire, and a hunger for more. The intensity of your connection drives you both toward the edge, pushing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy.
His thrusts become harder, deeper, and you cry out, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body. Pleasure builds within you, radiating outwards in waves, threatening to consume you entirely.
“I’m close, Spence,” you manage to utter, your voice strained. “I’m so close.”
He increases his pace, his movements becoming erratic as he chases his own release. You can feel the tension coil within him, the way he desperately clings onto the edge, on the verge of falling. And then, as if in perfect unison, the dam breaks. The pleasure crashes over you both, engulfing you in a tidal wave of ecstasy. You can’t help but let out a series of desperate whines and moans as you feel the warmth of his release filling you up as he pumps you full of him, coating your walls with his cum. You cling to each other, riding out the waves of your orgasms, the walls of your pussy convulsing around his cock, your bodies trembling with the intensity of it all.
Spencer collapses onto you, his weight pressing you further into the mattress. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close, basking in the afterglow of your shared intimacy. As your breaths finally steady, he lifts his head and gazes into your eyes, a tender smile playing on his lips.
“That was... beyond words,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and reverence. “I’ve never felt this connected to someone before.”
You stroke his cheek lovingly, your own smile mirroring his. “Me neither, Spence.”
He leans down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, pouring all his adoration and gratitude into it.
And as you both lie tangled in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth and intimacy you have just experienced, a feeling of contentment washes over you. It is a feeling you have longed for, a feeling of being truly seen and accepted by another person, and you know that for a long time that longing has been for Spencer and only Spencer.
“I am so grateful for you, Spence,” you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity.
Spencer’s eyes softened, his gaze locking with yours. “Thank you for being patient with me. Before meeting you I honestly never thought I could feel so comfortable and safe with anyone.”
Tears well up in your eyes. The depth of emotion in his words touches you deeply. You lean in to capture his lips in a tender kiss, a kiss filled with love and gratitude.
Spencer shifts, gently pulling out of you and sliding to your side. He scoops you into his arms, holding you close to his chest. The rise and fall of his breath against your skin is soothing, creating a sense of comfort and security on a level that you have never felt before.
You curl up against him, your head resting on his shoulder. “I’m so happy there only was one bed,” you whisper, the words spilling from your heart without hesitation. Spencer presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“Me too,” he reply, his voice filled with emotion.
Thank you for reading! If you feel like it, please leave a comment or reblog to let me know what you thought ♡
@sadroses98
jean grey-summers @thejeangreysummers2 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
