daydreamingqueen1

[daydreamingqueen1]

It's three am, I have finals in two days... I ate this up AND I DO NOT REGRET IT

It’s Golden, Like Daylight

Out of panic, you introduce Spencer as your boyfriend to your life-long situationship. Next thing you know, Spencer is your plus one at your friend’s wedding. There, the pieces start to fall right into place. [ 14.8k ]

Includes fem reader; roommate Spence; fake dating; awkward flirting; sexual tension; very heated make-out; food and alcohol consumption; smut.

     The dress' zipper was stuck midway, and you weren’t flexible enough to reach it.

      “Shit.” You muttered under your breath, twisting your arms behind you like a pretzel—one from above and the other from underneath. Your fingertips barely grazed the zip, and the sweat and frustration were already leaking out of your pores.

      “You okay?” Spencer asked from behind the tall dressing room curtain.

      “I think I’m stuck,” you replied in a whiny tone.

      “Do you need help? Should I call someone?”

      “You get in here.”

    “Uh…” he hesitated for a moment before he dragged open the curtain just enough to reveal his big eyes.

      “Quick!” You yanked him inside by his wrist.

      “Okay, okay!” He clumsily obeyed. “Chill out.”

      “Don’t ‘chill out’ me. Help me.” You stood in front of him, giving him your back. “It won’t go up or down.”

      You watched him through the mirror as he hunched over to get a better look at the problem. “It’s… eating the fabric. Hold on.”

      Great. 

      An exhausted puff of air escaped you.

      This was the fourth dress already and neither fitted right. You were on the verge of a breakdown by now, and the constant stinging at the back of your eyes had you blinking up to the ceiling way too much. Mostly because of the dresses, but also because of the reason you were shopping for one in the first place.

      One of your best friends was getting married next weekend and the news hit you like a truck. If it had happened at any other point, you would’ve jumped around to celebrate, but you’d been so close to hitting rock bottom lately that getting her invitation almost dragged you down completely.

      This was not about you—you kept repeating yourself—nothing ever was, but it felt like the world was conspiring against you. Everyone around seemed to have their shit together all of a sudden. They kept moving forward, making permanent life decisions, having babies, moving abroad with the love of their life… you were at that age, where the in-between felt much like a failure, and it all started six months ago when your dream job was taken away from you out of nowhere. And while some people your age were buying houses, you were forced to move out of your old apartment since you couldn’t afford a place on your own anymore. Even a studio apartment the size of a matchbox was too expensive, so your only option was to move into a place with two men to save some money.

      It was the only post available on Craigslist that came close to your budget.

      (You were hesitant about it at first, but after meeting up, you admitted they weren’t bad at all. One of them was gay—Ethan—and the other too smart and a germaphobe—Spencer—so neither would dare to touch you inappropriately, which was your biggest concern about living with men you didn’t know. The place had nice natural lighting, smelled good, and had a great location, near a hospital and public transportation. And although the room available was smaller than how it looked in the pictures, you couldn’t complain. It fit your double bed and had a private bathroom.)

      So, you took it.

      At that moment, every dream you once had was ripped out of the picture and now you were living aimlessly—no purpose whatsoever. It was so bad that sharing a home with two guys became the most exciting thing in your day-to-day life. Their company healed you a little every day without even noticing. With the occasional movie nights, random parties at home with poker (strip poker if you were drunk enough) just the three of you plus whatever guy Ethan was seeing at the moment; shared joints on the balcony or rooftop, or drinking some beer while watching a random soccer game that only Ethan truly enjoyed. They were the reason you smiled at least once a day and it was impossible not to bond with them. 

      Naturally, Ethan and Spencer became two of your closest friends.

      Which was enough reason for Spencer to be fingers deep inside the back of your dress.

      “Almost there,” Spencer said before a harsh snap blared around.

      “Did you tear it?!” You peeked at him over your shoulder.

      “It’s perfectly fine, don’t worry.”

      You let out a relieved sigh. You were free at last.

      “Thanks.” You kept the dress in place with both palms over your chest and locked eyes with him through the mirror.

      “Don’t you have a similar one at home?” Spencer quirked his brows. “Looks like the one you used for your date the other day. How did it go? By the way?”

      Turning on your heels to face him, you said, “Awful,” while wrinkling your nose.

      “Oh.” He frowned, pursing his lips.

      “Would you choose a dress for me, please?” You were quick to change the subject. You were also at that age where most dates were a waste of time. “I’ll buy the one you like the most. I wanna go already.”

      “I really like the first one.” He nodded, flashing a tight smile.

      That was the one you had liked the least. The silky fabric was nice, but the vintage flower pattern wasn’t something you’d normally wear.

      “Really?”

      “It’s classic. And elegant. Something Princess Diana would’ve worn on a casual summer night,” he paused for a moment, sticking the tip of his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, then said, half smiling, “Expensive looking.”

      You smiled back at his sweet comparison. He often saw things so much differently as you did, so maybe that was the dress meant for you.

      “And it’s all about the accessories you wear, too,” he confidently added.

      “I really liked the third one,” you said.

      “I don’t know. It was too short.”

      “What? You don’t want me showin’ a little skin?” You teased him in your gremlin voice.

      “I…” an adorable laugh rolled off his chest. That voice always made him laugh. “It’s not really wedding-appropriate.”

      You pursed your lips and said, “Fine,” gently scooching him out of the room.

      Once back into your normal clothes, you headed out to return all the rejected dresses to their corresponding section. You were probably going to wear the one Spencer mentioned you had at home, anyway.

      You were about to go to the cashier when a familiar voice called your name from somewhere behind you. You froze and your mind got polluted with memories in an instant. It was the voice of someone you had buried very deeply a long time ago. 

You gulped and pretended you didn’t hear, searching for Spencer with your eyes, but your name was called again. Louder. Even Spencer—who you caught at the other side of the shop in the tie section—heard, turning his head towards you and looking past your shoulder.

      Your name was called again, this time right behind you. You gathered courage through a deep breath and turned around. It was Jake, your life-long situationship (until a year ago), and his girlfriend (the one he started dating soon after you ended things).

      “Hey,” you said so out of breath and so not interested.

      “Wow,” he sort of laughed. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

      You merely nodded, raising your brows indifferently. The amount of times you had fantasized about this moment back when you still loved him, and now that you had finally gotten over him, there he was in front of you. Now that you had nothing to say. 

      “Who is she?” his girlfriend subtly asked him. 

      He introduced you with a stutter, followed by, “She’s an old friend.”

      You scoffed. Did he have amnesia all of a sudden? Yes, he was your friend for over four years, but then he wasn’t. After a drunken night, an unlabeled something emerged and lasted for two—almost three—years. While being with him, your light faded. You often wondered if he was ashamed of you; if he thought of you as not enough—not smart enough, not pretty enough, not hard-working enough. He never held your hand in public, only wanted you behind closed doors, and would raise his voice at you out of nowhere. And the many times you asked him What are we? He managed to change the subject in one way or another.  

      Pathetic.

      “Are you going to Shay’s wedding?” He asked.

      “Of course.” You remained expressionless. You weren’t about to give him the pleasure of seeing anything other than disinterest from you. “She’s one of my best friends.”

      “So, you're a bridesmaid,” he said matter-of-factly.

      Folding your arms over your chest, you confidently answered, “She’s not having bridesmaids.”

      Shay had said it was a small wedding, and that she was only going to have a maid of honor; her sister.

      “Uh, yeah she is?” Jake gestured at his girlfriend with his brows. “Poppy here is one.” What? “She already got the dress.”

      Your eyes darted down at the bag she was holding, a light lavender fabric peeked. That was Shay’s favorite color.

      “You ready?” Spencer stealthily appeared and stood tall next to you.

      “Spence.” You breathed out and held his arm, begging to be saved.

      “What are you doing?” He asked under his breath.

      “Spencer, this is Jake, an old friend,” You quoted Jake's exact words and tone. “Jake, this is Spencer, my boyfriend.”

      Those two words came out without any thought behind them. Confident and so smooth. No idea where that came from, but it was out, and Jake's face melted, giving you a tinge of satisfaction.

      Very subtly, you pinched the inside of Spencer’s arm hoping he’d get the signal and he waved at them with a tight-lipped smile.

      “Hey.” Jake merely raised his brows as a greeting and clenched his jaw. “So I guess I’ll be seeing you, too, at the wedding?”

      Spencer frowned at you.

      “Well.” You looked up at him. “Spencer might have to work, we don’t know yet.” You had never doubted his profiling skills, even though you didn’t understand how it exactly worked but you just hoped it was similar to mind-reading. Just play along, Spencer. “His schedule is always so unpredictable.”

      “Oh, yeah? What do you do?” Jake asked him.

      “Uh,” Spencer cleared his throat. “I work for the FBI.”

      “You don’t seem like you’d be a fed,” Jake sort of laughed, leaning on Poppy for approval.

      “I know,” Spencer replied as he reached inside his pocket to quickly flash his badge. “Most people don’t believe me.”

      Jake’s jaw clenched again.

      “He works at the Behavioral Analysis Unit,” you chimed in like the proud girlfriend you suddenly were. “They want him because of his beautiful, gifted brain.”

      “Right.” Jake raised his brows, his eyes ping-ponging from you to Spencer as if he was trying to study everything about you two.

    “Well, we’re kind of in a hurry.” You reached for Spencer’s hand. “See you next weekend.”

      You led the way out of the situation and continued your walk to the cashier.

      “What was that about?” Spencer subtly asked.

      “I panicked,” you looked up at him and winced with guilt.

      He didn’t seem mad, just… confused. “Who is he? If you don’t mind me asking.”

      You didn’t mind, but Jake wasn’t someone worth talking about. It would be a waste of time and saliva.

      “It’s a long story,” you merely said.

      By the time the dress was paid for and inside a paper bag, you met Spencer outside the shop. He’d put his sunglasses on and rolled up his sleeves.

      Right then, you realized: Spencer was way cuter than Jake. Plus, that move he made of showing off his badge made you both proud and flustered.

      “Thank you for playing along.” You bumped your arm with his as you made your way across the street.

      “Didn’t have much of a choice. I’m pretty sure my arm is gonna be bruised by tonight.”

      “Oh, don’t be a baby.” You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t pinch you that hard.”

      Five sunny blocks later, you stopped at an ice cream shop and ordered chocolate chips for both. One of the few things you had in common with him was your go-to ice cream flavor.

      While you went for an immediate lick, Spencer asked for a tiny spoon.

      “Would you go with me, then?” You asked once outside the store.

      “What? The wedding?”

      You nodded, giving your ice cream another lick.

      “If you want me to, yeah. I’ll have to ask for a day off or two.”

      “And would you be willing to act like my boyfriend?” Your voice sort of faded.

      “What are you trying to prove?” He asked, his attention trained in the ice cream.

      “That I’m enough to be someone’s girlfriend, I guess.”

      “Why wouldn’t you be?”

      You huffed out an annoyed breath. “Spence—“

      “Fine! I’ll go.”

      “Thank you.” You sighed and tied your next words with enthusiasm, attempting to make a good thing out of it. “You have a bunch of suits so you won’t have to shop for anything.” 

      “Where’s the wedding?” He asked.

      “New Hampshire. The countryside.” Not your favorite. “It’s gonna be hot so maybe you shouldn’t wear one of those suits with many many layers.”

      “Wasn’t planning to.”

      “I’m sorry I’m making you spend money on this,” you said to Spencer, taking two steps on the airport line, ID and tickets in hand. 

      You couldn’t help but feel guilty about it, even when you were well aware he had no trouble with spending money. His job paid well and when you first heard how much money he made, you wondered why he chose to live with two other people instead of renting a place alone.  

      I don’t like coming back from work to an empty home, was his honest answer. It was adorable and easy to assume he wanted to have a family someday.  

      “Oh, you’re not making me do anything,” he replied nonchalantly. “I agreed to come.” 

      “How many days off do you have?” you asked through a yawn. You’d come straight from your shift at work and the exhaustion was already reaching your bones.  

      “A week.” Spencer's tone emanated a tinge of surprise.  

      “That’s… a lot.” You frowned.  

      “I haven’t taken a vacation in over two years so I had quite a few days accumulated. I still do. ” 

      “I only have the weekend.” It was a relatively new job, so you didn’t dare to ask for an extra day off. “But I’m sure you can stay there with my friend without me. So you can enjoy the place.” 

      “I might go to New York, actually.” 

      “Oh,” you replied, taken aback. He had already made plans without you. “That’s… perfect.” 

      Soon, your turn came and the flight attendant scanned your tickets, motioning to go straight ahead. You continued your walk through the boarding bridge and your pulse quickened with each step that took you closer and closer to the plane.  You would’ve much preferred to spend some more money on a car rental, but Shay had bought you the plane ticket without a particular reason (you suspected it was her guilt for not making you a bridesmaid) so you had no other choice.  

      Deep breaths.  

      “And you do know the main reason you’re here is to act like my boyfriend, right?” You repeatedly kicked your knee against your bag. 

      “Uh, yeah? That’s what we agreed on.” 

      “Just wanted to make sure. We might have to act differently, and the place… it’s a small town. Boring. Nothing to do.” 

      “Oh, I love small towns.” 

      You didn’t. Small towns take the gossiper side out   of people. And you, bringing Spencer, was definitely going to be in people’s mouths.  

      You reached the plane and your heart rate spiked to its limit. You tripped as you stepped a foot in.  “Crap.” 

      Spencer was quick to keep your balance by holding you by your elbow from behind. “You okay?” He asked. 

        All you did was nod. 

      The musty smell hit you right away, and no amount of aerosol disinfectant could get rid of the evidence of the hoard of people that had just gotten off. It made you uneasy, and what topped the awfulness of it all was your seat. Right next to the wing.

      Spencer put your bags in the overhead compartment and settled next to you. “You sure you’re okay?” He fastened his seatbelt.

      “Yeah, I just…” You blew out a breath. “Hate flying.”  

      “Why?” He asked. You shot him a glare and wiped it off right away. His look was curious. He wasn’t judging, just wondering. “Do you want to change seats?” 

      You shook your head. “Just the thought of being in the air in a small place and no exit to steady ground in case of… an emergency I— I don’t know. Every time I’m on a plane I can smell death.” 

      “Flying is safer than driving,” he began. “The overall fatality risk is zero point twenty-three percent. You would have to fly every day for more than ten thousand years to be in a fatal plane crash. If you want a comparison, the chances of dying in a car crash are one in a hundred and one.” 

      “Mh.” You shut your eyes, a tight knot forming in your stomach. “I appreciate that but it’s not helping.” 

      Spencer sighed and reached for your hand, enveloping your tight fist. “It’s only an hour and seventeen minutes flight.”  

      He didn’t let it go until you decided to. His hand remained on top of yours—now more relaxed—from the moment the plane took off, even when it got a bit sweaty at some point. It was a smooth flight for the first twenty minutes, then a big gray cloud got in the way. It shook the plane and you clung to Spencer’s entire side—arm and leg wrapped around his arm and leg.

      “Imagine we’re inside jello,” Spencer said close to your ear. 

      “Huh?!” You breathed agitatedly. Your stomach was twisting.  

     “I wish I had one with me but use your imagination. Close your eyes,” he softly said, waiting for you to obey. You also let go of his body and went back to a more appropriate position. “Picture a pea inside jello. If you shake it, the pea it’s gonna move but it won’t fall through. It’s the same with us right now. We’re the pea and the pressure around the plane is the jello keeping us from free-falling. It’s quite literally impossible for the plane to fall. It’s physics.” 

     “I wasn’t very good at physics at school,” you managed to reply. His voice soothed you. “But… It makes sense. I think?” 

     When it happened again, you thought of yourself as a pea in jello. 

     Rural New Hampshire had its charm during Spring.  

     Big, leafy trees welcomed you as soon as you hit the road from the airport, and they stunningly surrounded almost every street; the blooming flowers scattered everywhere painted the place with their vibrant colors; the rivers flowing with crystal clear water made you want to get in and soak your feet… It was beautiful, really, the perfect place to spend the weekend, yet you couldn’t help but feel gloomy as you now stood in front of Shay’s parents' (vacation) house—a big ‘on sale’ sign planted in the garden.  

     The trunk of the taxi slammed shut and Spencer made it next to you with your luggage in each hand.  

        “Are we going in or—” 

     “Give me a minute,” you cut him off with a harsher tone than intended. 

     A cloud of dust arose around you as the taxi drove off, and you didn’t bother to wave the air in front of you to avoid inhaling it. You hoped you’d choke on it. All you were thinking of was how you wouldn’t be a bridesmaid but a total stranger to her—Jake's girlfriend—was.  

     The porch door swung open and there was Shay and her big smile approaching you with open arms. 

     “I imagined you’d be more thrilled about seeing your best friend,” Spencer commented quietly enough. 

     Shay squealed your name and ran to you, going for a hug you didn’t feel like returning.

     “I’ve missed you so much,” she said, tightening the hug. 

     “Missed you too.” You forcefully wrapped your arms around her.  

     Your gut got filled with butterflies—the heavy and horrible kind. Spencer was right, you weren’t thrilled about seeing your best friend at all.  

     She let go of you and her eyes immediately darted to Spencer. You’d told her you were bringing someone, but you didn’t mention who. It’d been a while since you two last updated each other about life so she didn’t even know about how atrocious yours had been for the past six months, let alone the fact you’d moved in with two strangers.

     “Uh, this is Spencer, my boyfriend,” you introduced him as the person he was here to be.   

     Spencer waved at her with a thin smile. 

     “Boyfriend?” She gave him a toothy grin. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

     “Oh, we haven’t been together that long.” Spencer reached for your hand and glanced at you as he said, “How long has it been?”  

     “A week today.” You intertwined your fingers with his. 

     A week today you’d asked him to come here with you, so it made sense.  

     “Aw, so it’s like your weekiversary,” Shay smiled before turning on her feet to lead the way inside her home.  

     “You okay?” Spencer asked under his breath, giving your hand two gentle squeezes.  

     “Yeah.” 

     You had to be.  

     You let go of his hand and followed Shay as she guided you up the stairs to your room for the night.  

     “It’s not big but has a private bathroom.” She stood by the door while you and Spencer settled your bags.  

     Awesome, Spencer’s face said, and went to check it right away. 

     “Hey.” Shay placed a soft hand on your arm, gently squeezing it. “About Poppy being a bridesmaid—” 

     “Don’t worry about it.” You cut her off. Just hearing that name stirred your blood. And you didn’t want to hear her excuse.  

     “You’re not mad?” Her brows knitted together with guilt. 

     “I’m hurt.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “But I’m sure you have your reasons. I just… don’t want to hear them right now.”

     Or ever.

     “Okay,” she replied quietly. She knew she’d fucked up. Spencer came out of the bathroom and she rearranged her features, appearing more perky.  “Are you guys hungry?” Shay continued her tour down to the kitchen and offered you some of the cupcake samples that weren’t chosen for the wedding. Then, she excused herself since she had one last dinner with her fiancé as an unmarried couple and her parents. “We’re staying at a hotel and I’m getting ready there for the wedding tomorrow, so don’t wait for me.” Shay glanced at her Apple watch and then at you. “And no one really lives here anymore so you have the entire house all for yourselves.” She rounded the kitchen island where you were sitting and kissed your cheek on her way out. 

     Soon after Shay left, you and Spencer agreed to enjoy the few hours you had left of sunlight outdoors and changed your airport outfit to a light sundress, keeping the sneakers. 

     There was no particular destination whatsoever, you just walked instinctively, following the dirt path surrounded by trees and with the soon-to-be setting sun right in your faces. 

     “Is something going on with you and your friend?” Spencer asked, both hands inside his pocket. “I noticed some… tension.” 

     You took a deep breath. You wondered how obvious it was or if it was his profiler skills that gave it away. 

     “She told me she wasn’t having bridesmaids,” you began, taking another deep breath before continuing. Spencer carefully listened to you talk all about your history with her. From the moment you two became friends in high school, graduation, the first time getting drunk, plans you’d made together but never went through with any of them, first boyfriends… Every single moment that made her your friend, until now. “Then I hear from my ex that she is having bridesmaids and that his new girlfriend is one. I’m not sure how to feel about it. A part of me thinks I’m exaggerating but…” 

     You’d reached a small river by then and were now leaning against a tree. Its leafy branches fell perfectly to block the bright sunbeams from your eyes, allowing you to look around without shades. 

     “It’s not an exaggeration at all,” Spencer said. “It’s definitely something you two need to talk about eventually, and I’m not saying you should end the friendship, but it sounds to me like you need to make new friends.” He lifted his glasses to his head and gave you an honest glare.  

     The nature around shifted the color of his eyes, making them look more greenish instead of the light brown you were accustomed to. 

     “Well, I have you.” You gently nudged his arm.  

     Spencer scrunched up his nose. “You need more friends than just me and Ethan. People that don’t live with you and would actually make you a bridesmaid at their wedding.” 

     You shot him a threatening glance and took a few steps away from him, farther down to the shore of the river. He didn’t have to be that honest.  

     “There’s not much I can do now,” you shrugged it off. “I’m here for her, at her wedding, and I’m gonna show up as a simple guest that’s there to have fun.” 

     “And I’m gonna be there next to you.” Spencer reached your side, his upper arm brushing your shoulder.  You smiled. He was someone worth keeping around. “So, uh, the guy from the other day was your ex-boyfriend?”

     You didn’t even notice that information had slipped out. You had no other choice than to talk about him. Sort of.  

     “Not really, but we had something,” was all you gave him. Spencer was never pushy when it came to your feelings, so he let the topic go.

     A soft breeze swirled around, playing with the ends of your dress. Your mind switched gears with it and soon, you decided you weren’t the bitter and the forgotten friend anymore.  

     “I feel like I need to know more things about you if we’re going to pretend to be together.” You turned to face Spencer. “We weren’t very convincing.” 

     “Was I too cold?”

     “We both were.” You looked up at him. The wind was having fun playing with his hair, too. “What’s your love language?” 

     He smiled, nodding to himself for a moment with a faraway look. “Uh, physical touch.” 

     “But you hate being touched,” you were quick to say.  

     “It’s not that I hate it? I just don’t think it’s ever necessary, especially with strangers. But with the person I like” —his smile widened— ”it’s different.”

     You hummed. “I think it’s gonna be weird if we’re this distant, then.” You gestured at the space between you two. “If we’re not gonna kiss, we have to at least be touchy enough.” 

     “I— I don’t mind.” He gulped. 

     “Which part?” You smirked. “Kissing or being touchy?” 

     Gulping once more, he added, “Uh, neither part. I told you you could count on me.” 

     You made a small choking sound, not quite a laugh, turning your face away allowing the heat to rush to your cheeks—Spencer Reid wouldn’t mind kissing you and it made you a bit giddy.  

     You looked at him again and sighed. 

     The thing about Spencer was that you liked him, from the very first moment. He wasn’t hard on the eyes and you’ve thought about him as a man once or twice. Not a brother or a friend. A man, who you’ve seen naturally flirt (in his own style) with some girl at a bar you’d dragged him into; a man who was soft-spoken, honest—too honest sometimes—and carried himself with confidence most of the time; a man who didn’t hesitate to go with you to the store from around the corner in the middle of the night because you had a craving—you missed him a lot when he was away for a few days in a row because of a case (craving or not). He was a good man, and those were rare in your life. 

     Call it an innocent crush, which was more intense in the beginning, but it still settled somewhere not that deep inside you. 

     “Should we practice, then?” You half-joked.  

     “R-Right now?” his voice came out slightly high-pitched.

     You swore his cheeks got tainted with the faintest shade of pink that wasn’t there seconds ago. 

     “Yeah, just one soft peck.” You shrugged. A kiss from sweet Spencer would brush away your bitterness forever. You closed the gap between you two and stood in front of him, playfully batting your lashes. “So?”  

     His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, and the pink on his cheeks turned glowy. It wasn’t the first time you’d made him blush. Those times often involved you walking around the house with your non-existent pajamas (a big T that went barely under your butt and underwear). 

     This was different, though. You were fully clothed with just a few honest words. 

     Clutching his waist by his shirt, you took the initiative and gathered confidence, bringing him closer. “Come on, no one’s around.”

     “Yeah.” He let out a breathy laugh. “That’s the problem.”

     Your mouth hung open for a moment and laughed too. “What does that mean?”  

     He licked his lips and cupped your face with gentle hands—hands that almost took up your entire face. He kept his lips tense, as if holding back a smile, and scanned your face up and down. His eyes had now shifted to their natural color, or maybe it was his large pupils that made them look darker.  

     “Now I’m not so sure if we should.” His eyes lingered on your lips.  

     “Why? Are you scared of falling in love?” You used your gremlin voice and made sure to keep your bottom lip tucked in your teeth with the last word.  

     He laughed a little, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly and he leaned until your noses touched. Your breath hitched and you were just as flustered as him at the snap of a finger.  

     He was a different kind of pretty from up close.  

     “Remind me again why are we doing this?” He dodged your question with a question, his breath fanning your lips. 

     Your knees went weak and you barely managed to say, “I honestly don’t know anymore.”    

     You would’ve never thought Spencer could make you this nervous, but there you were, legs quivering at his proximity. 

     Proximity you had asked for.  

     He said nothing, just smirked while leaning until your lips touched with a soft peck that lasted a second. Tentative. Nothing out of this world, yet your heart was trying to flutter out of your chest. He stayed there, a kiss away from your lips, then went for another one. More confident. A proper kiss rather than a soft peck but still closed mouth. You even felt him smiling through it, and once he pulled back, you wished it had lasted longer. Your breath hitched again and the lack of air made you light-headed.  

     And just like that, your crush on him made its way back to the surface.

     You rolled your lips together, letting go of his waist and hiding a smile that could give you away. Your cheeks were burning and a sudden rush of lust hit you right then and there.  

     “Was it okay?” His hands cupping your cheeks relaxed but remained there, touching you.  

     “Yeah.” You lied. You’d completely lost your train of thought. “Are you okay?” 

     “Yeah.” He nodded, letting you go. 

     “We’re okay,” you murmured under your breath to convince yourself of it in a way and gently patted his chest. “Good job.”

     Brushing past him on your way down the river, an odd feeling ghosted up your gut.  

     There was no coherent thought running through your mind. You’d kissed him before, according to Ethan—a drunk strip poker night was to blame—but it wasn’t even your memory. So this… god, this was a true first kiss. A sober kiss. An intentional kiss.

     You stayed quiet most of the walk back home. Which was odd coming from Spencer and you wondered if he’d felt things too…

     Spencer was leaning on a wall of pillows he’d built against the headboard, one hand behind his head while the other held the book he’d found in Shay's library after the dinner you ordered. 

     “Are you okay with us sleeping in the same bed?” You sat cross-legged next to him and reached for your moisturizer on the nightstand. Vanilla and lavender scented. “Because I could go—”

     To Shay’s room, you were about to say, but he quickly interrupted you. “Yeah, yeah. Fine.”

     You let out a teasing laugh, squeezing a few drops of lotion across your arms and spreading a thin layer all over. “There aren’t ghosts here to pull you by your feet, you know.” 

     Any chance you had, you teased him about being scared of the dark. You’d even given him a pumpkin nightlight for last Christmas as a joke, but you’d caught the orange light shining under his door at odd hours of the night.

     “I know that.” He kept his eyes glued to the page. 

     You finished applying moisturizer all over your body—thighs, knees, feet, and hands—and lay on your side, propping yourself on your elbow and resting your head over your hand, chin angled up to delight your eyes with the view: Spencer, fresh out of the shower, reading a book. 

     An involuntary deep sigh escaped you. You hadn’t stopped thinking about the kiss, not even in the shower—you had to hold back the urges to release some… tension; your fingers had drifted somewhere between your legs, massaged right there for a moment. And just for a brief moment, your fingers were his fingers, and the hot water cascading down your body were his lips, kissing you everywhere… You had snapped your hand away when the pleasure started to build and flipped the shower tap to the cold side to punish yourself. 

     Now, those same urges were flush against your skin, and he was right there next to you, preciously focused on whatever he was reading.

     Vivid images of you straddling him and leaning down to kiss his neck as he kept on reading flashed before your eyes, and your pulse thrummed with lust in more than one place. 

     You wanted to kiss him again. 

     “Should we practice some more?” You blurted out. 

     A slow, flustered smile took over his lips; his eyes still wandering through the pages. 

     “Spence.” You gently—seductively—took the book out of his hands. 

     He cleared his throat, meeting your gaze. “If that’s what you want, y-yeah.” 

     You put the book aside and lay on your stomach, now propping yourself up on both of your elbows and glancing up at him with fluttering lashes. “You have to want it as well.”

     He scrunched up his nose and adjusted himself, lowering on the bed to lay on his back and be at the same level as you. A bit too tense, both hands clasped over his stomach, and his slightly damp hair fell messy over the pillow. 

     You followed his every move, your smirk growing wider. “Is this a yes?” 

     Spencer merely nodded, licking his lips. 

     Being this close, you could take in all of his beauty. Kind eyes, sun-kissed skin, barely sunburnt at the apple of his cheeks and bridge of his cute button nose, manly bone structure—god, that jawline—, his growing beard barely darkening the skin above his upper lip and chin, his so very kissable lips…

     You lifted your hand closest to him and brushed a piece of hair away from his forehead. His eyes darted to your lips and it was your cue to lean down for a closed-mouth kiss, to which he kindly and so sweetly responded.

     “Is that okay?” You whispered against his lips, searching for his eyes, but he had them closed.

     “Yeah,” he replied just as quietly.

     You licked your lips and went for another, just as soft. “And that?”

     “Yeah,” his voice came out low and his hands slowly untangled, falling to his sides and grazing your bare thighs.

     You squeezed your thighs together and scooted closer to him so you could have more comfortable access to his lips.   

     Kiss.

     Kiss.

     Another kiss—it lasted longer and you dared to give a short, teasing lick that pulled a low sound from his chest right away.

     “How about that?” You murmured and his eyes shot open. 

     They were blazing with an unfamiliar lust.

     He answered by adjusting on his side, eyes trained on your lips, and dragged one hand across your back until the appropriate curve of your buttock, sending tingles through every nerve. His tension was slowly fading and leaned toward your mouth going for another kiss, but you pulled back and caught the hint of a smirk at the corner of his lip. 

     “Don’t get too eager,” you teased him, even when in reality, it was you whose heart was already getting excited. 

     “I’ll try,” he said and cupped your cheek strongly, leaning fully to capture your lips.

     You kissed him back and mirrored him to a certain point, laying on your side too, one hand cradling the side of his head while never letting his lips go. You scooted closer so your bodies would almost blend and with every new movement, you got a whiff of his natural scent, so manly and so damn intoxicating it only made kissing him a far more exhilarating experience. His breathing grew harsher and the kiss got louder and wetter and desperate by the minute. You couldn’t help but laugh a little through it, feeling his lips curve into a smile against your lips, too. 

     This felt like an old-fashioned make-out session with a high-school crush, and the more it kept going, the further you wanted to take it. Before you knew it your body acted on impulse and in one swift movement, you were on his lap, straddling him exactly as you’d fantasized minutes ago.

     Another dark hum rolled off his chest, his large hands settling at either side of your hips.

     “I… we should stop,” you pulled away, yet planted a wet kiss on his lips a second later and pressed your hips down against him. A lump nestled right below your cunt—not hard, but it was getting there. 

     “Mh.” He tugged your bottom lip between his teeth. 

     Spencer was getting too eager and you would’ve stopped it right there. You really would’ve, but the sounds he made were delightful and his hands roaming all over the length of your body were driving you insane. They could melt into your flesh by how hot they were. 

     Your head was spinning. He was an incredibly good kisser—god, his tongue, his hands, his breathing, the way his short beard scraped your skin... It’d been too long since you’d felt this wanted, so you didn’t pull back and let yourself go, whining into the kiss instead and corresponding to his eagerness, as long as it didn’t go beyond this.

    Another dark sound from him filled the narrow space between your chests. He brought you down closer to him by your hips, digging his long fingers into your skin as if he wanted you to properly feel how hard he was getting just by kissing you. And oh boy, you did feel him. He was hard now—ready—and an exquisite pulse grew on your cunt. You were so ready for him, too. 

     You inclined your face to the opposite side mid-kiss, changing the rhythm to a slower but still breathy pace. Smiling. Your tongues swept together kiss after kiss, and the moment warm arousal leaked into your panties, you snapped off of him, breaking the kiss abruptly.

     “Oof, okay.” You laughed, bringing your palm to your swollen lips. “That was—“

     Spencer's face was flushed, his lips also swollen, his mouth parted and his chest heaving in and out, startled. Maybe by how unexpectedly you’d ended it or because he didn’t recognize himself. At least you didn’t. The lust had shape-shifted him in a way. That was not the sweet and nerdy Spencer you knew.

     “Yeah.” He exhaled, his brows knitted together.

     Your eyes trailed down his body and made eye contact with his evident erection. Your mouth hung open with half a smile and struggled to swallow. It didn’t feel that thick against you. 

     You were evidently staring, so he followed your eyes down to his body.

     “Shit!” He rolled on his stomach and nuzzled his whole face against the pillow like a frightened ostrich wanting to hide from the world. 

     There was his adorable little self.

     “You okay?” you asked through a small laugh, biting your bottom lip.

     “Yeah,” he muffled his voice.

     “Trynna’ hide something?”

     “Mhm.” He nodded.  

     There was no way you were going to sleep in the same bed after this very heated practice. 

     “Okay,” you cleared your throat, standing up from the bed and you were sure the patch of arousal would soon leak into your pajama shorts. “I’m… gonna go inside the bathroom and once I’m out, I— you— we are gonna behave, okay?” 

     Spencer gave you a thumbs-up while his face was still buried into the pillow. 

     You ran to your bag, quickly grabbed a clean pair of panties, and tippy-toed to the bathroom, locking yourself in. Your forehead landed against the door. 

     That was incredibly hot. 

     And so damn stupid.

     A soft knock on the door startled you, quickening your heart. 

     It could only be one person. 

     You took a deep breath gathering yourself before replying, “Come in!” as casually as you could.

     “Wow.” Spencer’s voice entered the room. 

     You locked eyes through the full-length mirror in front of you right away. 

     Yeah, wow.

     You hadn’t seen him wear that before—black dress pants, a belt with a silver buckle, a purple button down with two top buttons undone that allowed you to get a glimpse of a gold chain you had no idea he had, no tie, and black dress shoes. 

     You gulped at the sight.  

     “No Converse?” You pointed at his feet with your brows, taking half a step to the side so the reflection would be mostly him. You had to admit, he looked straight out of a fashion runway. 

     “Oh, I didn’t know what the dress code was, and with you” —he gestured at you with a lazy hand— “looking this beautiful, I have to be at your level,” he said through a small timid laugh. “I brought a few other button-downs in case you didn’t like this one.”

     Warmth rushed to your cheeks. ‘Beautiful’ wasn’t uncommon in his vocabulary to describe you, but it never ceased taking you off guard. More so now, after last night’s heated make-out and the fact that this was the first time you saw each other since. (You had slept in Shay’s bedroom—the smartest move—and only talked to him through a dry ten-second phone call this morning to wake him up and tell him to get ready.) 

     “No, you uh, picked the right color,” you played it cool, turning around. His shirt along with the pink on his cheeks matched with the different flowers on your dress. The dress you’d bought because of him. “I was thinking”—You walked up to him and adjusted the neck of his shirt, even when it was perfectly ironed. You were about to start pretending, and you considered yourself very good at it, so you might as well start with some small gestures—“Three kisses should be enough. Throughout the whole thing?” You raised your brows searching for his approval. “We could kiss three times and everything will be okay.”  

     “O-okay, yeah.”  He was clearly nervous. “Sounds great.” 

You shot him an evil grin and said, “Maybe not as intense as last night but…“hoping it would ease some of the tension.

      “Oh, please don’t bring it up… yet I—“ he shut his eyes with pain.

     “Okay, I’m sorry, ” you said through laughter, leaning on him and intertwining your fingers. “I won’t.”

      Making him blush was becoming addicting.

     The wedding venue was at a winery—of course—and it was close, so it only took a fifteen-minute ride to get there. You showed your invitations at the gate and a young man guided you to where the ceremony was taking place. A few people had already arrived and were scattered around the place. Some familiar faces here and there—including Jake and Poppy who only earned an indifferent smile from you—but no one close to you enough to reach out. You just waved at them from afar with a fake grin. 

     A waiter offered you wine and you both declined it. You didn’t want to drink. Alcohol made you sappy, and chatty, and your goal for these few hours was to go as unnoticed as possible.  

     “Your ex keeps looking this way,” Spencer subtly muttered as you found empty seats on the left side of the aisle. 

     Your eyes immediately found Jake and there he was, standing tense and staring with a hostile glare. 

     “Yeah, he’s a creep.” You then turned to Spencer and watched him unclench his jaw. He cared, apparently. “He’s gonna keep doing that, and will probably try to talk to you, or me, or both at some point so beware of that.”

     “Should I worry about getting punched?” Spencer then asked with genuine concern. “He looks aggressive.”

     “He may look like a bully but he’s incapable of getting physical.” He only raised his voice. “So you’re safe, don’t worry. If he tries anything, I’ll be there to body-block him,” you mocked him, earning a sarcastic ha-ha from him. He wasn’t as embarrassed now. 

     Soon enough, every chair was taken, and the soft ambiance music dropped quiet.  

     “Is this okay?” Spencer spoke over the sudden buzzing of people talking, placing his palm over your bare thigh, just above your knee. 

     That single motion was enough to take you back to last night's events, making your mouth dry. Now a glass of wine would come in handy. 

     You looked at him and smiled, trying hard to stifle a sigh. “It’s perfect.”

     From the look of his half-smile, you knew he was having the same flashbacks. His eyes flickered down to your lips, raised his other hand to your face, and casually stroked your cheek with his thumb, and a hesitant movement brought him close.  

     A boyfriend would take the chance to steal a quick kiss, and a girlfriend wouldn’t back up and dodge it. It happened so quickly. You weren’t sure if it was you who took the decision or him, or if it was an unspoken mutual thing, but his lips pressed against yours so casually as if it already was second nature. Meaning, the practice from last night and you teasing him about it today was working. 

     “Two,” he murmured against your lips, his thumb never ceasing to stroke your now burning cheek.   

     Two kisses left. 

     You took a deep breath and looked forward, slightly shaking your head to bring yourself back to earth. You regretted establishing a certain amount of kisses because, god, you wanted to kiss him again already. All you could do was lick your lips to feel the ghost of his lips and feed those urges. 

     Your phone buzzed inside your tiny purse and it dragged you out of the Spencer-struck trance. 

     A message from Shay.

     SOS.

     You frowned but were quick to text back.  

     What happened? 

     The typing bubbles appeared and disappeared several times before her reply came.

     The officiant dumped us. There’s no one to marry us.

     Your eyes widened. “Shit.” 

     “Everything okay?” Spencer asked.

     You hesitated for a moment and looked around, careful that no one else would hear and panic. “The officiant is not coming. There might not be a wedding.”

     Spencer frowned his lips for half a second before casually saying, “I have a marriage officiant license.”

     Your entire face wrinkled with confusion as your mouth opened to ask how, but it wasn’t the time to question him. You believed anything he said, anyway, so you wasted no time letting Shay know.

     One minute Spencer was sitting next to you as your fake-boyfriend and the next, he was getting whisked away from your side by one of the best men to officiate the wedding. It took them a few minutes to start the ceremony, but it was happening and you decided to stand in a lonely corner in the front to capture the moment on your phone and waited there until he showed up. 

     Your grin was big from the moment Spencer stood there in front of everyone, tall and genuinely excited about this, like he’d been waiting for a moment like this his whole life. He started his speech and an odd warm feeling grew in your chest that was released in quiet laughter. 

     “... This is uh, my second time doing this, by the way.” Spencer looked at the crowd and then back at the soon-to-be newlyweds. “But I promise you, this is real. You will be officially married by the end of the ceremony.” Spencer quickly searched for you in the sea of people and smiled when he found you. The way he had to use his hands when speaking was so endearing. A deep sigh finally escaped you. “The funny thing is that I wasn’t supposed to come. I guess you could take this as a sign that you were meant to get married today. So let’s thank my now girlfriend for saying yes to my very awkward question a week ago and making me her plus one.”

     The only one who laughed was you—along with the hoard of butterflies that filled your stomach. Another sigh slipped and your heart swelled even more. No one has been this proud of being with you—even if it was a lie and just for the weekend—it was more than anything your ex-something ever gave you. The one who was there a few feet away from Spencer. The one who instead of looking at his girlfriend who was there too, was looking at you. You shot him a disgusted glare and brought your attention back to Spencer. The only person worth staring at. 

     “I wish I knew more about you guys so I could make this more special,” Spencer added.

     “It’s already very Special,” Shay replied to him then turned her head to the crowd and shot you a glassy glance, mouthing ‘thank you’. 

     It really was special.

    Spencer continued with the official speech, one he—of course—knew by heart, and soon, Shay was kissing her husband, causing a collective loud cheering and clapping for the couple. You, on the other hand, cheered and clapped for Spencer, who was adorably clapping for the couple, too. He seemed so proud of himself. 

     You locked eyes during the commotion and neither of you tore it as he made his way back to you with a permanent smile on his face. 

     “That was amazing!” You met him halfway offering him a fist bump, which he awkwardly enveloped with his palm. You realized then, that’s not what a couple would do, but no one was paying attention. Still, a sudden urge to kiss him rocked you—as congratulations, maybe, or to erase the awkward fist bump. “You were amazing.”

     “I would’ve prepared a real speech if I’d known this was gonna happen but I guess it was okay, better than nothing.”

        “It was so good. You saved the wedding, b— bro.” 

     Babe almost slipped, and thank god you were quick to correct yourself—in the most embarrassing way. Bro. Your entire skin was crawling, but he didn’t seem to notice. 

     “I heard there’s lobster for lunch,” he said with excitement, smiling and nodding all at once. 

     Biting the inside of your cheek to hold back a smile, you grabbed his hand, lazily intertwining your fingers as you already felt accustomed to. It was a nice fit.

     You were the last ones to sit down at the table (there were many, for 6 people each). The only one with two free seats was the one farthest back, with people you didn’t know, so you didn’t complain. 

     From there, everything turned out the way it was supposed to. The toast, lunch (with said lobster Spencer ate with enthusiasm), the husband and wife dance, a moment for the family’s speech, and the party at last.

     It was still early—the sun was nowhere close to setting—but you knew once the loud music began, you could leave, even when you liked dancing. Although, you couldn’t leave the party without having at least one dance with Spencer, who had already rejected a bold woman who asked him to, right there in front of you.

     “You’re not gonna reject me, are you?” You stretched out your hand to him. 

     He raised his brows with amusement. “You wanna dance?”

     “Why not?” You shrugged. “It’s a party. We kind of have to. For the whole experience.” You narrowed your eyes. “I don’t wanna miss the opportunity to dance with you.”

     To much surprise, he gladly accepted. 

    Everyone was doing their thing on the dance floor, and since it wasn’t too much of a slow song, you took him to an empty corner and enjoyed the music there. Just the two of you, clumsy feet that allowed a subtle sway of your bodies. 

     “Who was the first couple you married?” You asked him, your arms wrapped around his neck.

     His hands settled perfectly on your ribs, tight enough to send a wave of heat swept all over. You shouldn’t have had a glass of red wine at lunch. 

     You blinked and gulped and cleared your throat all at once.

     “Ethan and one of his girl friends,” he replied with a tinge of humor.

     “There’s no way Ethan is married to a woman,” you said through a laugh.

     “He was. They got divorced months later.” Spencer laughed along and a sudden vacant look took over his eyes as he continued, “He, uh, was very sick once, and he ran out of health insurance. I offered to marry him first but back then gay marriage wasn’t legal.”

     It wasn’t something Ethan talked about often, but he’d mentioned it to you. He was healthy now. 

     “You would’ve married Ethan?” You sort of mocked him just by picturing the two getting married. 

     “Of course, he’s one of my best friends. I’d do anything for him.”

     Your chest swelled with a deep sigh. He spoke about him so fondly that it was nice to think he talked about you that way to others, too.  

     “So you did the closest thing and got the marriage license,” your voice softened. Spencer merely nodded. “You’re a good friend.”

     “So I’ve been told,” he smiled shyly. 

     “You are,” you insisted. “I mean, look at what you did today, for Shay, who isn’t even your friend. And what you’ve been doing for me since last weekend. Pretending to be my boyfriend and help me prove something to a guy that isn’t even worth mentioning.” 

     His lips fell into a thin line as he frowned with concern. “Was he really that bad?” 

     “He just…” your eyes flicked behind Spencer and found Jake staring at you both. He was just standing there alone with a drink in his hand. Now that you saw everything from the outside—and after experiencing just a few hours as Spencer’s girlfriend—you realized your relationship with Jake wasn’t healthy. You were so used to his crumbs that they soon turned into enough fuel to stay, and you had no idea what you were missing. You looked back at Spencer. “He never loved me so he never went out of his way to show me anything. It was just sex in the beginning, I got attached and we spent a lot of time together even when I felt like my presence bothered him. I never dared to ask him for anything either so I guess I did this to myself,” you scoffed, looking away.  

     Spencer searched for your eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

     You brought your attention back to him and could only stare into his eyes for a second. You hated that talking about it still made you brittle. 

     “Don’t be. This is,” —you dared to lock eyes again and took a sharp breath through a shaky smile— “very healing.” 

     The lights went down and Spencer cupped your face to caress your cheeks with the pad of his thumbs. He was a good liar. The way his eyes were glimmering… even in this low light, you would think it was love if you knew what it looked like in someone else’s eyes. 

      Or perhaps it was a reflection of your own. 

       You sighed again. 

     One of his thumbs went from your cheek to your chin and barely grazed the outline of your bottom lip. A hint of his soft perfume reached your taste buds as he leaned closer, his tender nose circling against yours. 

     It made you all fuzzy inside.

     “Would it be okay if I resort to our second kiss?” He asked, so politely, his voice just above a whisper. 

     You gave him a little nod through a smile. He angled his face and captured your lips as he already felt used to, and you swore the wet warmth of his tongue grazed your top lip for a fleeting moment. A moment that sent you to outer space. It may have been the music that drastically changed into a soft melody, or the way his lips perfectly molded against yours—just because he wanted to—but you felt like crying. 

     Actual tears burned your eyelids, a tiny sob dripped from your lips to his in the middle of it, and something inside you snapped into place.

     There wasn’t a third kiss. There was no need to. And even if there was a chance to have it, you would’ve dodged it.

     A kiss from Spencer wasn’t supposed to make you tear up, and since then, you couldn’t even look at him. You called it a night right after the dance; went back to Shay’s place in a very quiet taxi ride, and locked yourself in your room without saying goodnight. It was unfair to him, you were well aware, but the last kiss shifted something in you. 

     You sat on your bed, your eyes lost in the void while your thoughts raced. Your feet were swollen now because of the heels and your head was starting to pound. You were exhausted, and the only thing that could help you through everything all at once was a bubble bath.

     You didn’t waste much time preparing the tub. Shay had everything and more to make it a therapeutic session, so while the tub filled, you poured a few drops of essential oil, threw in a bath bomb, and stripped out of your clothes. As soon as you dipped yourself into warm water, your muscles loosened one by one, and soon, it was just you, your breathing, and Spencer in your mind. 

     You shut your eyes and frowned at the immediate memories. You simmered in them. All of them. But the one that lingered the most was the heated make-out. He was so clear under you, that you could almost reach him all over again. You smiled, and the rest of your body naturally reacted, squirming a little in the tub and clenching your thighs. You sank more into the water, allowing it to reach every exposed patch of skin so it would act as a warm blanket. Your hands—which were resting at your sides—made their way to your chest and you couldn’t hold the urge to graze your nipples as the memory of his tongue on your lips came. 

     Spencer was, without a doubt, the best kiss you’d ever had, and knowing that he’d gotten turned on by just a kiss and that you could’ve had him insid—

     Your eyes shot open and you quickly sat upright, rubbing your face with both hands to erase those images. A bubble bath was a bad idea. You drained the water right away and took a shower instead. You weren’t about to torture yourself with the what-ifs. 

     By the time you were dried and in your pajamas ready for bed, an ever-so-familiar stab in your temple dragged you out of your room to search for some painkillers, not without checking if the coast was clear first. The entire house was dark, except for the light sneaking under Spencer’s door and the moonlight trickling through every open blind. It was enough to lead your way downstairs to the kitchen and help you riffle through every cabinet and drawer for some ibuprofen, or anything that could help.

     “Hey,” Spencer’s voice came from behind.

     Your heart almost jumped out of your ribcage. “Shit!” Your hand flew to your chest and turned around. His silhouette was approaching you. “Jesus, Spence, you scared the shit out of me.”

     “Sorry,” he laughed a little.

     “Did you float down here or something?” you frowned. 

     “No?” he chuckled. “I was in the back, in the library.” He gestured with his head. 

     “Oh.” A soft breeze snuck in through the slightly open kitchen window and it pebbled your skin, making you brace yourself. 

     “I couldn’t sleep.” He took another step closer. Now you could see his face clearer. His so-beautiful face.

    You turned around and poured yourself some water from the sudden nerves. 

     “I didn’t have the chance to thank you for coming with me to the wedding.” You cleared your face of any emotion and turned to face him, leaning your butt on the kitchen counter and taking a sip. “It was fun.”

     “I had a lot of fun too, yeah.” He nodded eagerly. “Thank you for inviting me.”

     A thick silent heartbeat passed and he opened and closed his mouth as if wanting to say something, but he didn’t.

     You flashed him a tight smile and turned around once again to wash your now empty glass, saying, “We have an early flight tomorrow so… we should probably go to bed.” 

     You faced him for the last time and brushed past him to feel him close, murmuring a soft goodnight. 

     He replied by stealthily following your every move upstairs, and the moment you reached the last step, he grabbed you by your wrist, freezing you completely. 

     “Hey,” he softly said, turning you around by your hip. Your eyes had adjusted entirely to the darkness, so it was easy to tell he’d stopped two steps down, leaving him at the perfect height for another kiss. “You okay?” 

     “Yeah,” you casually replied, though the fact that his hand was resting on your hip was starting to drive you insane. “It’s just a headache.”

     “It’s not, though.” He took half a step. “Did I do something?”

     You scoffed to yourself, shaking your head. You couldn’t let him feel guilty about your stupid confused feelings. You couldn’t just leave him there thinking he was the problem.

     “No, you… were perfect today, thank you.”

     He looked up at you with puppy dog eyes and tight lips. “Can I hug you?” 

     You melted from head to toe and you couldn’t help brushing a curly piece of hair away to admire those eyes properly. Something on them was different but you couldn’t quite grasp it. You just nodded and he wasted no time enveloping you entirely in his arms. His nose, mouth, and chin got buried in the crook of your neck like they belonged there. 

     Your eyes closed on their own as you smiled and took it all in. His hands, his soft hair tickling your face, his breathing on your skin, the peace and ticklish warmth that spread through you while being there in his arms. You leaned your cheek on the top of his head. He smelled like soap.  

     He hugged you even tighter then, as in saying thank you, his tender hands rubbing your upper back then barely unglued himself away from you, and slowly—so very slowly—trailed his hands down to the curve of your waist, pulling you closer, while his face stopped a few centimeters away from yours, the tip of his nose grazing your cheek. 

     “We…” His breathing ghosted the corner of your lip. “We still have one kiss left.” 

     His voice came out in a whisper, so quiet you thought you were hearing things.

     “The night ended, Spence,” You exhaled a timid laugh. “You’re free.”

     “But I don’t want it to end,” he replied, pleading, almost. “Can I kiss you again?” 

     You shuddered completely—gave in completely—and struggled to breathe out an audible yeah as you gave him a slight nod. 

     Yeah, he echoed you and went for an open-mouth kiss that took away all the air in your lungs. It pulled an immediate moan out of you, but you didn’t think too much of it. 

     Tears pricked at your eyes again, but this time you didn’t let them ruin the moment. You wrapped your arms around his neck and tangled your fingers on the back of his hair. Kissing like this was dangerous but you needed this one kiss to last until your lips wore out. 

     Your legs almost give up right there and you would’ve slipped off the step if he hadn’t gracefully pressed you against the wall to keep you both steady. His hands went from your waist to enclose your face and kept kissing you with his whole body like a starving man. He was being harsh yet careful and you were so focused on how he set ablaze every part he touched that you forgot how to breathe. He was making you dizzy and you wouldn’t mind if you passed out from it. 

     He slowed down, his tongue slowly lapping your top lip. Then, he withdrew from the kiss, enough to keep your lips and breathing touching. You fluttered your eyes open and got a glimpse of his face from up close. His eyes were blazing with the same sinful light you met last night.

     “That’s three,” he shakily murmured.

     “Yeah,” you swallowed thickly and tilted your chin up in search of his lips again. You grazed them but didn’t take it further. It was over. “Thanks, I… should go to my room now.”

     He loosened his grip just enough for you to slide away and soon his hands were nowhere near you, giving you your definite way out.

     You ran the two steps to your room and shut the door, leaning on it lightheaded. Now, every beat of your heart screamed his name. You breathed in through your nose with your eyes closed for a moment, and at that exact moment, two soft knocks on your door called you. 

     And before you knew it, the door was open and his lips were back on yours. 

     It turned chaotic quickly; a mixture of clacking teeth, desperate breathing, and very clumsy legs trying to keep yourselves standing. 

     This was off-script. This was no longer about pretending, it was about what you and him truly wanted. 

     You moaned into his mouth, receiving all his ferocity while holding onto him by the nape of his neck.

     “Oh,” he broke the kiss, evidently distraught by his own behavior. “I’m sorry, this is— what is this, what are we—”

     “I don’t know.” You stole a quick kiss

     “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have— I’m sorry.”

     “Spence.” You brushed every piece of hair away from his gorgeous face. “I like it.”

“You do?” He gulped.

     “Clearly.” You stole another kiss to which he kindly responded. “We could continue where we left off last night.”

     “Yeah.” He kissed you back between smiles. “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

     That was all you two needed to go from two starving people to tender and calm beings who were just happy to be there. You shut the door with your foot and kept on kissing right there in the middle of the room. You kissed slowly this time, your tongues matching each other’s pace and your breathing steadying. 

     His hands resting on the small of your back dared to travel down to your ass and gripped each side too gently for your liking. He was still trying to be respectful while also showing you he wanted this to go further, so you took the lead and guided him to the edge of your bed while never ceasing to kiss him. He let your lips go and sat there, brought you close to him by your hips, nuzzling his face between your covered breasts. He took a moment to breathe you in, his hands sneaking under your pajama shirt. 

     Before he could ask you to take it off, you lifted it over your head and tossed it away, leaving you in complete display for him. You were nothing but your skin and panties, and your tits sat perfectly in front of his face. He got hypnotized by them right away and didn’t hesitate to wrap his lips around your left nipple with a pleased hum.

     “Mh.” Your eyes closed on their own and you threw your head to one side, lifting both hands to support yourself on his shoulders. 

     He sucked on it, flicked his tongue tenderly, and each gentle stroke sent waves of pleasure straight to your cunt. You squeezed your thighs together to ease the growing delightful ache. Deep down you knew he was a tits guy, so you let him take his time on them. He went from one to the other, sucking and nibbling and licking. 

     All the while, you decided to straddle him and with his help, you rested all your weight over his lips. Your heated core instantly met the hardening lump underneath his pajama shorts you were already familiar with and it only made the ache worse. Your walls clenched just by thinking about having him inside you and your hips began to grind back and forth with a mind of their own. You needed any kind of friction and he read your body right away. He was quick to indulge, gripping your hips tight and followed your rhythm, helping you with your rocking motions. It worked, but it wasn’t relieving. If anything, it made you need him even more. 

     He withdrew from your tits with a subtle pop and looked up at you again. His eyes were glassy.

     “You okay?” He asked. 

     You merely nodded and leaned down to capture his flushed, pillowy lips. He was growing confident and now his hands had no trouble exploring your body—your thighs, up to your hips, and dragging them down to your ass. He cupped it tight and pressed you harder towards him. 

     “Can we fuck?” you whispered against his lips. 

     “Yeah, yeah, we can.” He gulped. “Let’s lie down.”

     You stood from his lap and did as he said. He didn’t. He stood there, admiring your almost naked body up and down. He was still fully clothed, though his erection straining under his pajama shorts didn’t leave much to your imagination. He wasn’t wearing anything under, the clear sight of the outline of his cock was making your mouth dry. Empty. 

     You bit your lip and tapped next to you, signaling him to join you. He stripped out of his clothes first, shirt and shorts gone in one fell swoop. It was perfect, of course, it was fucking perfect and ready for you to sit on. Your mouth was so incredibly empty. 

     You scooted over the edge while still laying on your side and looked up at him as you went for a little taste of his cock. You didn’t really need your hands for support since his length stood perfect on his own but you reached for it anyway to feel it. So warm and soft. You pulled the skin back and exposed the head, glistening with his arousal. You wrapped your lips around it with a whiny hum and closed your eyes. He hissed between clenched teeth and caressed the top of your head for a second before he gently pushed you back. 

     Mouth parted, Spencer leaned down and crawled next to you, lying tall on your right side. He captured your mouth while one hand went between your legs. You did the same and reached once again for his cock, and he made a pained sound again but didn’t let your lips or cunt go. He rubbed you over the thin damp fabric, a sense of relief brushed away some of the ache. You needed to feel him properly, though, so as you pumped his cock with short strokes, you guided his hand inside your panties. 

     The kiss had grown tired but your lips still remained touching, panting. 

     He swiftly obliged and spread your wet folds, finding even more wetness between them.

     He shuddered. “Is this okay?”

     “Yeah,” you smiled. 

     A dark sound got trapped in his throat the moment you gave his cock a stronger pump, and continued, moving the skin back and forth which inspired him to increase his pace on you. 

     “Oh, Spence,” you moaned, searching for his eyes. 

     He found them and mirrored your brows knitting together. “You okay?” he asked again.

     You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth and nodded. He captured your lips and pressed his fingers even more and touched you properly with all four fingers, spreading your arousal all over—gentle, wet, sounds reaching your ears. 

     You’d forgotten completely you were pleasing him too for a moment until his cock twitched under your touch. 

     “Can we fuck already, Spence?” You asked against his tired lips.

     “Y-yeah I just, fuck—” he massaged your clit with the heel of his hand while daring to slide one long finger inside you and another one right after. “Let me— Even this feels incredible.”

     You bucked your hips against his palm and he began to slide his fingers in and out, each movement making his palm hit your clit. It felt so good, and the pleasure was right there you were sure it wasn’t going to take him much to make you finish if he kept that pace. 

     “Do we uh, have condoms?” He asked. 

     Shit.

     “No? I… I didn’t think this would happen so... Do you?”

     “No,” he breathed out. “I didn’t plan this either.”

     “Fuck.” You shut your eyes. 

     He kept his pace, slid another finger inside you, and tightened around all three of them. He was good at this, and pleasure kept building, gently pumping his fingers in and out while his thumb searched for your slippery clit.

     God, your mind was fogging up already with bliss.

     “Are we, uh, trying to prevent pregnancy or diseases?” He then asked. 

     Talking about pregnancy and diseases shouldn’t be hot but with his fingers inside you—going in and out—it was hard not to be turned on by it. His voice reached you deeply you could only imagine how deep his cock—  

     “Huh?” you opened your eyes.

     He kissed the corner of your mouth. “We could do things without a condom. If… we’re both clean.”  

     “I know I’m clean.” You kissed him back. “Are you?” 

     “Yeah,” he smiled into another kiss. “Yeah, I am.” 

     He used his entire hand to rub you and spread your folds, playing with them and tweaking them between his fingers. 

     So close. 

     “I could just stay here,” he said, rubbing everywhere with all four fingers. “God I could stay here forever, you’re perfect.” 

     “Spence,” you breathed out. Not having him inside you while he was right there was torture. “Right now I’m not thinking about anything other than you fucking me so please.” Please, please. “I need you.” 

     “What day of your cycle are you?”  

     “What?” 

     “Just answer me.” He said and sped up his hand movements

     So, so close. 

     “I… I don’t know? I don’t keep track.”  You bucked your hips against his palm.

     God, it felt too good. 

     “When was your last period?” 

     “Mmm,” you bit your bottom lip. “The day I asked you to buy me some tampons. Yeah!” 

     “So, you’re not in your fertile days yet,” he said to himself, almost. 

     He kept the perfect pace and the pleasure you were so used to giving to yourself was reaching its peak, the ticklish sensation spreading through every nerve. You wanted him inside. You needed him, and your orgasm was right there about to explode. 

     “Spence, I want you,” you whined rolling your hips at the pace of his hand.

     “I know, just let me… let me give you this.” He switched all his focus to your clit and continued rubbing you at a torturous exquisite pace. “Let me give you this and then I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

     His words melted in your ear at the same time pleasure claimed your body. It spread all over—his voice somewhere near encouraging you to let go—and every part of you jerked as the bliss struck you with every flick of his fingers. 

     Spence, you moaned, turning your head to him and searching for his lips.

     “I know.” He kissed the underside of your chin. “I know.”

     It was too sensitive; it grazed the pain and his fingers kept rubbing at a more gentle pace. He slid two fingers inside you—you were so much tighter now—and pumped in and out making his palm massage your clit. You’d come out of it but somehow were still in it—in bliss. He slid his fingers out and tapped, tapped, tapped your clit while keeping his graze trained on yours, making your body and breathing jerk each time. 

     He stopped touching you all the way and settled between your legs, his cock standing on its own right in front of you. 

     “You’re not on your fertile days yet,” he now confirmed to you. He guided his cock at your wet entrance and began to push the head. Slowly. “Still, pulling out it’s… not a method there’s still a 4 percent chance of fuck—” 

     “I take the risks.” You reached for his other hand. “Please, Spence, just fuck me already.” 

     He propped himself on each elbow placing them on either side of your head and bucked his hips just enough so your cunt sucked all the head right it. 

     “Oh,” you both moan at the same time, his head falling to your shoulder. 

     “Oh, g-god.” He trembled and breathed in through clenched teeth sending bolts of praise through you. You felt good and he was letting you know. “Mmm,” he grunted, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck and licking you there. “That’s a perfect fit. Ah, fuck.” 

     The most perfect fit. It filled you in like you were made for him. 

     He attached his lips to the underside of your chin and began to move his hips, slow at first, an exquisite roll of his hips.  

     “Is this okay?” he asked right there against your skin. 

     All you could do was bite your bottom lip and give him a positive whine. It was perfect. How well he fitted, how his cock slid in and out with such ease, and how every subtle movement and pulse of his cock inside you was enough to please you. 

     The bedroom was soon aflame with your harsh breathing, taking up every space and soft moans bouncing between the walls. You stared down where your bodies met and caught a glimpse of his cock sliding in and out—in and out—already shining and his soft dark curls milked with your arousal.  

     You looked back up, grabbed his face to kiss him and started to meet his soft thrust, following his rhythm. Kissing him while he fucked you was a whole new experience. Because, firstly, it wasn’t something you ever thought would happen, but also was a whole new level of intimacy. He wasn’t just a roommate anymore (not that he ever was just that), and whatever happened after this, there was no going back. And you had to admit, good or bad outcome, it was going to be so worth it. 

     “Harder,” you whispered.  

     It took him three soft thrusts to give you one harsh slam, as a test almost. 

     “Like that?” he asked, and you moaned in approval through a small laugh. 

     God yes! Exactly like that. 

     He withdrew his hips, his cock slipping out just enough so the head would remain inside then slammed into you again. 

     Fuck, yes. 

     “Mh.” You frowned at him, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. “Just like that.” 

     He gained rhythm by the fifth harsh slam and soon, his hips had a mind of their own. You threw your head back for a moment to take it all in. The bed was a symphony of sounds, skin slapping against skin, moans, heavy breathing, and the constant squeak of the metallic headboard at the tempo of his thrusts. 

    You braced yourself, cupping your breasts to give him a nice view.

“Spencer, holy fuck.” You threw your head away from him. 

     “What? What? Need me to stop?” 

     You turned your head to him again. “Don’t! Don’t. Please. Don’t ever stop. Fuck.” You wrapped your legs around him to cage him and keep him close, allowing him to go deeper. 

     So. 

     Fucking. 

     Deep. 

     “Oh, g-god,” your voice sharpened. “Fuck me.”

     “That’s what I’m doing, sweetheart.” Spencer teased you on his way to kiss you and you couldn’t hold back a laugh, right there against his lips. 

     Of course, he was the kind of guy that made you laugh during sex. 

     You clenched your walls around his length and kept the grip to feel every movement and twitch of his cock. He propped on his elbows again and looked down at you. Sweat gathered over his forehead and upper lips. 

     Then, he stopped moving. 

     “What?” you asked.

     He opened his mouth, his eyes flickering from your eyes down to your lips. 

     “Nothing I… Nothing.” He leaned to kiss you and gained back his pace. 

     You untangled your legs but kept them angled up because his depth was delightful and simmered in it. 

     Slam after slam had him grunting louder and harsher. 

     “I’m gonna— I want to—”

     “It’s okay,” you panted. “You can finish inside me.”

     “You sure?” His eyes filled with panic.

     “Please,” You nodded. “Just this once?”

     “Just this once.” Spencer frowned and began to drill into you. 

     Hard. 

     A pained frown took over his face, cursing between clenched teeth and then his breathing hitched. His muscles tensed and cock twitched repeatedly, then a sweet, sweet, small laugh escaped past his lips as he released inside you completely. You received every drop and caught his last low grunt with an open mouth kiss, moaning into it. 

     Bucking his hips one last time, Spencer withdrew all the way, standing on his knees still between your legs. You watched him as he gently tugged his cock and let a few more drops drip from the tip all while he reached for his shirt to put it under you, so the cum leaking out of you wouldn’t ruin the bed covers. 

     You missed him inside you already.  

     He plopped next to you and tangled your legs together, facing you.  

     “You okay?” He kissed your bare shoulder.

     “More than okay.” You smiled and faced him, too, nestling everywhere on his warm body

     “I’m pretty sure you have to go pee now.” He kissed the top of your head. “For your health.”

     “You are correct,” you chuckled. “But I’m so cozy here.”

     “Go.” He then kissed your temple. “I’ll be right here.”

     You groaned but obeyed anyway and were in and out of the bathroom in two minutes, tip-toeing your way back to him. He’d gotten under the bed covers and lifted them so you’d lay on his arms.

     “See? Still cozy.” He wrapped his arms around you. 

     You rested your head on his chest and traced random lines over it, and you wished your mind would've given you peace for a little longer. You started to wonder already what this meant. You’d been here before, after sex, in the casual stages of something and it hurt thinking this could turn into something unlabeled.

     “What is this?” You looked up at him and bit your tongue right away. 

     Spencer twitched his nose, a shy smile appearing. “I think this might be an appropriate time to tell you.”

     You frowned and adjusted to face him better. “Tell me what?”

     “I…” he chuckled. “I’ve had… certain feelings for you. From the moment I saw you.”

     Your eyes widened and your heart almost fluttered out of your chest. “Really?”

     “Really. And this weekend, it was… pure magic for me.”

     You breathed out a laugh attempting to brush away the tears stinging your eyes. “You love magic.”

     “I love magic,” he laughed too.

     You brought your hand to his cheek and caressed him with your thumb. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

     “I didn’t think you’d ever feel the same.”

     “Why?”

     “I don’t know." He reached for your hand on his cheek and enveloped it, giving your palm a soft peck. "We’re so different.”

     “We’ll, we must’ve done something right, right?”

     “If we hadn’t bumped into your ex last weekend, I don’t think we’d be here.”

     “Ever?”

     “Not ever, but maybe not this soon?”

     You hummed. You thought about all the ways this could’ve happened and the only person that could’ve made this happen popped into your mind.  “What are we gonna tell Ethan?” 

     Spencer chuckled. “He, uh, knows about my feelings for you so he’s gonna be thrilled.” Of course. “Us, together, we’re his dream come true.”

     “Together, huh?” You snickered.

     “Y-yeah I mean, if you want. Or we could be casual and keep doing this until—”

     “We’re not casual,” you cut him off right away. “I don’t want casual. I hate casual.”

     “Yeah, I wouldn’t know how to do casual.” He stole a quick kiss. “And we already live together so that’s… convenient.”

     “Very convenient.” You kissed him back.

     “I mean it.” Spencer then cleared his throat and cupped your face with a serious expression. “This could be the beginning of something beautiful, if you let me I… could kiss you and care about for every day. I wouldn't hide you. I wouldn’t hide my… my love for you.”

     Love.

     Your smile shook, tears welling up again and the only thing you managed to give him was yet another kiss—another of many more to come. 

     Spencer cared about you and he didn't mind loving you out loud.

     “Hey! My people!” Ethan ran to you two as soon as you entered the apartment, going for a triple hug and a double kiss on the top of your heads. “Thought you were gonna be there the whole week.”

     “I have to work in like two hours,” you replied, “So I couldn't.”

     “Did you guys have a good time?” Ethan smirked and kept looking at Spencer with a knowing look you couldn't quite decode. Only someone with a twenty-year-old friendship could know what it meant.

     But you and Spencer also had your own. You exchanged complicit glances right away. You had agreed on the flight back not to tell him yet. Not because you didn’t want him to know but because you wanted to enjoy it first, just the two of you. It all was still too fresh and knowing Ethan, he would’ve gathered a reunion just so he could know every detail about it. 

     “Y-yeah,” you and Spencer answered at the same time; same tone and stutter. 

     “My head is killing me, though," you added.

     “We have some ibuprofen in the bathroom,” Ethan touched your forehead endearingly, checking your temperature. “You know what else is good for headaches, though?” He quickly added and didn’t wait for your answer and snickered as he said, “Orgasms, isn’t that right Spencer?” He patted his back.

     “Uh, y-yeah, for some people,” Spencer gulped, scrunching up his nose. “For others, it can make it worse.”

     “There’s only one way to find out,” Ethan said with humor raising a finger. He knew something. “Not with me, of course.”

     “Are you uh, on your way out?” Spencer changed the subject, giving you another quick glance.

     “I am,” Ethan replied. “To the grocery store. We’re out of beer and oatmeal and I ate your yogurt while you were gone so I’m going for that, too. Don’t miss me, I’ll be back before you know it.”

     He gave Spencer a tap on his back and left.

     Now it was just the two of you.

   "You know it's true," Spencer walked up to you. "What Ethan said about orgasms."

     "I know," you smirked and wrapped your arms around his neck, pecking his lips. "It worked pretty well last night, but we should put it to the test sometime again, just to really prove it."

     "Tonight." He rested his hands on the small of your back.

     "I'm absolutely coming back with a brand new headache after this shift, so definitely tonight."

     "Want me to pick you up after work?" He returned the soft peck.

     "You would do that for me?" 

     Spencer stroked your cheek. "Of course, I’ve always wanted to."

me and my fascination with giving my readers a headache because if I have them, so should they

anyway

If you reached the end here's a little star for you ⭐️ I hope it was worth your time and that it was fun for you! I’d love to read your thoughts on it if you enjoyed it. Thank you so much for reading 🫶

SPENCER MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

[daydreamingqueen1]

barty crouch jr

[daydreamingqueen1]

PLEASE PLEASE SECRET SANTA IN THE OFFICE AND YOU AND SPENCER GET EACH OTHER 🙏🙏

ly😼

Ok pookie pooks you know me so well ILY (guys pls I know who sent this pls I’m not insane I promise)

Spencer Reid x reader

‘How the hell do you shop for Spencer Reid?’ You thought, wadding up the small slip of paper in your hand

You sighed and put your hand on your chin, then your felt something press against the back of your chair “what’s up princess?” Morgan asks, tapping the side of your head. You were quite used to his teasing but right now it was greatly appreciated. “What do I get Spencer?” You ask him, the words coming out half jumbled in your stress. Morgan chuckles “woah there sweetheart, breathe.” He spins your chair around so you’re facing him “he like reading right? Get him books” he suggests, you roll your eyes “I swear there isn’t a single book on earth he hasn’t read!” You pout, Morgan once again laughs at your suffering “you’ll figure something out, now go home, it’s like 8pm. I’m headed out too” you nod and go with him.

A few days later you finally found time to shop, walking around the mall like a lost child. So far all you’ve gotten is a headache, and no gifts for Spencer. Buying gifts for someone who doesn’t really have any hobbies other than being smart (and cute) is proving quite difficult. Eventually you settle on a chain and a sweater vest. The silver chain is simple, but it matched the white and grey vest so you decided to get it. That night you fold and wrap the vest and chain, the silver necklace placed neatly on top of the folded vest, both hidden behind an off-white wrapping paper adorned with black stripes. It was a pretty cute gift.

Nearly a week later it’s the day off the exchange, Penelope was hosting the small get together, you’d waited a bit to give your gift, getting distracted talking to JJ, until you feel the couch dip a bit, turning to see Spencer, with a nervous smile of his lips. “I got you” is all he said as he holds out the gift, you giggle “well this is yours” you say as you set his gift on his lap and start to open yours. At the same time you both burst out laughing. He’d gotten you a white cardigan, and a silver necklace. The coincidence was entertaining to everyone in the room, he puts on the chain and offers to put your necklace on your you. You nod, sitting with your back to him as he reaches around you, he’s so close, his hands gently rubbing against your shoulder blades as he clasps the necklace, then gently reaches around to readjust the small heart pendant to the center of your chest, your breath hitched at his gentle touch. “Thank you Spencer” you smile “thank you” he says back. You expect him to get up and go back to where he had been talking to Morgan before, but no, he actually moves to sit a bit closer to you, his arm gently wrapping around you. “Is this ok?” He asks softly? You nod and lean back into a bit as his thumb rubs small circles into your hip. “The chain suits you” you tell him, smiling, he smiles back. “You’d suit me” he says, both of your eyes go wide, he looks just as shocked as you (despite being the one who said it). “Spence?” You say, your smile and shock both evident in your voice. “Yea?” He responds, he sounds so nervous. “I think I’d suit you too” you whisper, you feel him relax as that gorgeous smile finds its way back to his just as gorgeous face. You readjust to how you’d been before, leaning into his chest while still facing everyone and holding a conversation. Spencer on the other hand is in a trance. His fingers running through your hair, braiding small sections and brushing it out just to do it over again. He’s only broken out of his chance by Emily snapping next to his face “hello? earth to Reid” she laughs, he looks up “oh-uhm- yea?” He responds, attempting to regain his composure. “Havin’ fun pretty boy?” Morgan chimes in, Spencer just sighs. It was gonna be quite the night.

Guys this was such a cute lil thing to write oh em gee

[daydreamingqueen1]

Pent Up

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Spencer tries to comfort the newest team member through their nightmares, but the scene he walks in on is as far from a nightmare as you can get. It's practically a wet dream.

Warnings: Day 29 of Kinktober - masturbation, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, commands, slight BDSM themes, penetrative sex, reader is desperately horny, allusions to cheating/STDs, fingering, etc.

A/N: So close to the end now! Here's another kinktober original. You can find the rest of the months' works on AO3 under my account name (reiderwriter)! If you enjoy it, please leave a comment or reblog! It means a lot.

If you were to be asked what the worst part of a break-up was, you'd probably answer the months of sexual frustration afterwards.

It'd been weeks since you'd been able to itch that particular scratch, and you didn't know how much more you could take it. Having unceremoniously dumped your boyfriend three months prior (cheating bastard as he was), you'd found yourself swamped with work and unable to enjoy any two-person sexual pursuits.

Truth be told, you'd never really quite gotten the hang of pleasuring yourself either. Sure, you knew what you liked in bed, but your fingers weren't long enough to reach where your boyfriends had, and you grew easily tired of rubbing as the lonely hours of the night stretched out.

But with four months of pent-up frustration, you really were on the edge of losing it.

And it was all because of Doctor Spencer Reid.

Your boyfriend had gone around telling everyone who would listen that he was the reason you'd broken up anyway. He had said that he just felt too insecure in a relationship where you were off doing who knows what with your fellow FBI agent in various motels around the country. He left out that his insecurities seemed to disappear when he found himself in bed with one of his gym mates. Or his own coworker. Or his brother's girlfriend. Or one of the numerous other women you'd eventually traced back to him.

Needless to say, you'd wiped your hands of him and immediately ran to your OBGYN to make sure he didn't leave behind anything that lingered. And then you'd sat down and thought about the accusations.

Spencer.

He was attractive, smart, pretty funny at times, and weirdly cute at others. Your ex-boyfriend accusing you of sleeping with him was genuinely the first time that you'd thought about him in that way, though.

But now it was all you could think about. You woke up in the morning with the vague idea of his lips on your chest, tongue twisting and teasing your nipples slowly. You sat through the drive to work absent mindedly, wondering how long he'd last in bed. Meetings were the worse, where you stared at him blatantly and openly as he rambled through whatever new information he was giving out that day, wondering exactly what he'd taste like.

And then you took yourself home to your lonely apartment and tried to recreate those thoughts in your head as you rubbed yourself to release. It was a daily routine you were, for all intents and purposes, horrified by. Not that shame stopped you, though.

It was mid-week, and you'd spent the last three days stuck in a motel room after work, as you helped with your most recent case at the BAU. Three days of being in very close quarters with Spencer, who coincidentally happened to share a wall with you.

You'd tried your best to hold off and not touch yourself with so many of your coworkers around, but a little bit couldn't hurt, and with the clock on your bedside table reading somewhere between three and four am, it was a chance you were willing to take.

The sounds that Spencer could hear through the walls were so quiet at first that he almost missed them. If it wasn't the dead of night and if there had been other noises outside as well, he might have thought nothing of it and gone back to his book.

But the little gasps and moans sounded painful and worried him. Every new member of the team had nightmares at some point or the other, and he hadn't heard you mention them yet. Standing up from his chair, he placed his book face down on the small table and walked to the wall separating your rooms.

Putting his ear to the wall, he could hear everything much clearer. Your laboured breaths, the small moans, the sound of the sheets being tossed this way and that. It sounded bad. Pulling a jacket on, he stepped out of his room and knocked on your door.

You were only growing more frustrated with each flick of your wrist, head filled with images of Spencer over you, whispering in your ear as he stretched you out, or with his head between your legs as you grasped his hair, not willing to let him go.

You were so close to your release that you didn't even register the calls from the other side of the door. You didn't hear Spencer trying the door handle either after hearing a particularly loud groan from inside.

It's not until he's opening the door and calling out to you that you realise that you've been caught.

“Y/N, you need to wake up. You're having a n- oh my god.”

“Spencer!” Throwing the bed sheets back over your naked body, you scramble up the bed as he stops in his tracks, the door having swung closed behind him.

“You didn't lock your door.” He said, trying to maintain eye contact but failing dramatically as his eyes fell. First to your chest, then lower to where your fingers still sat between your thighs under the covers.

“I didn't think anyone was going to walk in.”

“Evidently. I wasn't supposed to see that.”

“No one is supposed to see that, Spencer,” you sighed, letting your head flop down against your pillow again as your hands came up to your face in embarrassment.

“I'm sure your boyfriend would disagree.”

“What boyfriend, Spencer?” You looked him in the eye again then, surprised to see that he'd relaxed slightly. He was a few steps further into the room, hands resting casually in a crossed position against his chest as he leaned against the wall.

“I'm sorry, I didn't realise-”

“That I got cheated on? Don't sweat it, I wasn't exactly broadcasting it at the office.” The corners of his lips turned down in a frown as his eyebrows knitted slightly together.

“If you…if you ever need to talk, I'm Bere. You know, good listener.” You're not sure what it is that makes you say it, bit the words are out of your mouth before you have the common sense to stop them.

“I don't need to talk, Spencer, I need to get railed.” In some sort of divine punishment, your tongue ties as soon as the final word leaves your lips, leaving you sat wondering why the hell you would say that.

Silence fills the room as you sit waiting for a reply until you look up to find Spencer trying his hardest to control his expressions. He can't hide the flush creeping up his neck, though, or the stiffness in his movements.

“It seems you were doing fine by yourself.” You let yourself relax slightly into the conversation as he lets his gaze fall further and further down your body.

“It’s not the same. It’s not the same as when someone else is doing it, is what I mean.”

“Well, how were you doing it? Maybe there’s something else you can be doing to help?”

Gently, he lowers himself to the edge of your bed, slowly running a hand up the sheets as you stare at him, eager to see where he takes this new line of movement.

You hold on to them still, keeping yourself covered, until his eyes meet yours once again.

“Show me.” The demand is simple, but you find yourself utterly compelled. The sheets gently fall away as you suddenly sit bare in front of the man, legs spread wide as you anticipate his next move.

“I said show me. You need to touch yourself.” Your mouth dropped open in protest but you can see already that he's not listening, eyes entirely focused on your pussy.

You decide against protesting, and with a deep breath you let your hand fall back down between your legs, taking its place on your clit and beginning the slow strokes from earlier.

His gaze is curious, looking like he would on any other tough case as you bite your lip to avoid moaning out.

“Your touch is pretty light, put some more pressure on your clit.” Your body is suddenly obedient and listens to him more than it listens to your conscience and suddenly you’re gasping and moaning again as your wrist works up and down.

“You have two hands, right? Try touching your breasts as well. Your nipples look a little neglected right now.” You listen again, and you’re surprised at how right he is.

You’re sure that with just his instructions, you’d shortly find yourself reaching a climax almost as satisfying as any you’d had with your ex, and he hadn’t even touched you.

You're so lost in your own pleasure, that you don't notice that he's palming himself through his own pants until you hear him hiss through his teeth.

“Spencer, you can deal with that here, too.” For a second, you assume him to bolt, the expression on his face betraying his discomfort at being caught. But he doesn't.

Instead, you watch him unzip his pants and pull out his hot, thick cock, staring slack jawed as your hands keep working over your own body.

“Fuck you’re so big.” You gasp as your eyes train themselves on the small drops of precum glistening on the tip of hs cock as he finally relieves some of the tension in his body.

Watching him distracts you from your own climax, suddenly curious about every noise he makes, every look on his face, the need rolling off of him.

“Why did you stop?”

You don’t bother answering his question, not even looking up from his cock as he stops stroking himself, wondering if he’d messed this delicate situation up by pulling his cock out.

“Please let me sit on it.” You whimper out, surprising even yourself with your whines.

“Are you sure?”

“Spencer, I’ve not had a dick inside me in months. Hell, I’ve not had one that size inside me ever. I want you to fuck me, please.”

He doesn’t need anymore convincing, suddenly pushing you back down and pushing his pants down further again.

“You can’t sit on it, but I will satiate your curiosity.” He pushes in suddenly, and you’re suddenly gasping at the stretch of it.

This is it. This is what you’ve been unable to do for yourself. This is what his hand feels like on you, how his cock feels pulsing inside of you. You’re discovering all these new sensations and suddenly you’re thoughts are empty.

Having both started yourself off, you feel like it takes only a few minutes of his very hot and intense thrusting, for the both of you to come undone.

He lets you cum on his cock, then quickly pulls himself off and rolls away to spend himself in your sheets.

You both sit there panting for a second, side by side, neither of you saying a word as you come down from your highs.

That is until you can stand the silence no longer and have to blurt it out.

“He thought I was cheating on him with you.”

“What? Who did?”

“My ex. He said he was only cheating back because he was sure you were fucking me while we were on cases.”

“... That might be my fault.” Your gaze snaps to him quickly, confused as he stares at you sheepishly.

“I think Morgan’s exact words to me were ‘stop staring at the newbie like she’s the porn magazine you found in the woods as a kid’ and they were swiftly followed by, ‘Morgan, Reid, meet my boyfriend.’”

He looks guilty, but you just laugh.

“You’re only as guilty as I am. I’m sure if you'd have caught any other member of the team in this situation…”

“Please don’t put that thought into my head.”

“All I’m saying is that Rossi definitely wouldn’t have let you stay or told you he needed rail-”

He cuts you off by pressing a kiss to your lips.

“That’s enough conversation for you, too.”

He pulls the sheets up and over the two of you again, and you’re content at the way his hands caress your skin as you do anything but rest up.

[daydreamingqueen1]

Regulus and Sirius cursing in french:

Remus cursing in welsh:

James cursing in spanish:

Barty cursing in italian:

Peter (screaming, pulling his hair): I don't even know what are we fighting about!

[daydreamingqueen1]

I'm frothing at the mouth

Little rosekiller for you 🌹🔪

(First real barty and evan art hope you’ll like it)

[daydreamingqueen1]

Gilbert Blythe is a James Potter variant. Go on, prove me wrong.

[daydreamingqueen1]

Wait.

he so wouldn't realize.

Harry.exe has stopped working

[daydreamingqueen1]

reblog if it's okay for your mutuals to message you and create an actual friendship, not just interactions

[daydreamingqueen1]

I am just a girl, I only need Spencer Reid to come help me with my homework

[daydreamingqueen1]

did you change your username? or am i tripping?

heyy, nopp haven't changed anything recently, neither my user or my pfp, this has always been my only account! though I haven't been on tumblr long enough to have another I guess

have a good day sweetie <3

[daydreamingqueen1]

At youth group camp, in a tent, to my friends 🤡

I am so curious. Reblog if you like!

[daydreamingqueen1]

lily: can you guys be serious for five minutes!?

james: our record is three

[daydreamingqueen1]

May I please request a fic where Spencer finds out about the new female team member’s love for gaming by seeing her play her Nintendo Switch on the jet? Bonus if he sees her struggling to beat something like Five Nights At Freddy’s or Catherine Full Body and he helps her out much to her shock

A/N: Thanks for requesting! I'm not much of a gamer myself, so it took a while to figure out what I should write. I went with FNAF because I’ve literally been held hostage by that Josh Hutcherson Whistle tiktok for the last seven days, so I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: mild spoilers for FNAF 4 Night 8, fluff.

“What is that?” Spencer asked casually, glancing over at the screen from his seat on the jet.

For some reason, despite facing monsters in real life, you'd been addicted to horror games in your downtime. Apparently, it was better for you if the crazy murderers were actually sentient animatronics possessed by the ghost of murdered children.

“It's a Nintendo Switch. It's a video game.” You replied without looking at him, heart racing from the pressure of the level.

“Like pacman?”

“Yes, Spencer, like pacman.” You sighed in frustration, trying to avoid running into the animatronics running around the building your character was supposed to be guarding.

“Then why is the screen black,” he said, just as Mad Freddy snuck up on you in the game and you lost the level. You sighed, head falling back in defeat.

You'd been stuck on night 8 of FNAF 4 for at least a week now, but who could blame you? You had to play completely in the dark, and you were dealing with some of the worst animatronics, too.

You'd been so happy to discover 20202020 mode, and you'd passed night 7 easy enough and they were honestly pretty similar, but one week into consistently playing it in all of your downtime, and you were seconds away from sacrificing your switch to the animatronic gods.

“It's supposed to make it more challenging. I think it's just impossible.” You threw the switch down, making sure all your progress (or lack of it) was saved.

“Can I try?” Spencer curiously asked from beside you, smiling at the soft pout on your face.

“Are you sure? It's not exactly your style…?”

“Humor me.”

You passed him the switch, showed him the controls, and snuggled back against your seat, eager to catch some sleep now suddenly. You had just closed a long case, and you may as well try to sleep now before the pile of paperwork made that impossible.

If it was easy to fall asleep, it was impossible to drag yourself from sleep.

You'd felt the familiar movements of the jet jostle you side to side, but you also felt a warmth next to your body that was too comfortable to convince you to even crack an eye open.

After a week on the case, plus a week trying to solve the game level, you really hadn't slept soundly in some time.

So when someone shook your shoulders, you simply ignored the motion again and cuddled closer to the arm and chest you'd wrapped yourself around.

Until you realised that the arm and chest had to belong to a person. And the only person that could be was Spencer Reid.

“It's okay, I'll wake her up, you guys go ahead.” You heard him say, with a few muffled voices agreeing.

You decided to just play dead as you heard the shuffling sounds of the rest of the team climbing off the jet. At which point you just happened to stretch yourself naturally out of your peaceful sleep.

“Spencer?” You yawned, trying to sound confused. “Did we arrive?”

You disentangled yourself from his body, realising that in facing him, your faces had hovered centimetres apart from one another. His breathing was calm, but you could feel his heart beating hard as you pulled away from him, mind racing at the not so innocent touches he traced down your skin as he let you go.

“Yeah, the team got off already. We should probably head out, too, before the cabin crew comes through to reset.”

You stood yourself up and grabbed your things, including your switch, now packed carefully into its carry case.

“So, you gave up as well, huh?” You laughed at the obvious sign of Spencer's white flag.

“What do you mean?” He said, grabbing his own bags now he was free from your grasp.

“The game? It was hard, right?” You smiled at him as he collected himself and turned back to you, pausing slightly.

“I finished the game.”

“What?” You whirled around on him, voice breaking through your lips before you could control it.

“I finished the game. I was just watching the credits when you… made yourself comfortable.”

You felt embarrassment spread through your body but pushed it down to make space for the sheer disbelief that known technophobe Spencer Reid had completed the video game you'd been struggling with for the past week.

“How?” was the only word that would leave your mouth as you froze in the aisle.

“There was a pattern to it. I realised if I went between the left door, the bed, and the right door, the fox thing-”

“Nightmare Foxy.”

“Right, Nightmare Foxy wouldn't come out of the closet. And then the others wouldn't pop up until 4am, and after that, it was pretty easy to get through.”

“Oh my god.” You stood in awe, blocking the aisle and forcing Spencer to stop next to you as well.

“You have to show me how. Please, Spencer, I need to see it.”

You hadn't realised your hand had crept up to grab his sleeve, pushing closer to him slightly.

“Are you free this weekend?” He whispered back at you as you realised that the space between you was miniscule. You could only nod your confirmation enthusiastically.

“Then it's a date.” He whispered again, pushing past you and letting himself off the jet.

[daydreamingqueen1]

spencer gifting reader w lingerie for the first time and being all flustered giving it to her???

Lingerie

hi, love, thank you so much for the request, sorry it took so longg <3 Congrats on being my first request btw

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, suggestive, reader in her underwear, nothing explicit, no y/n.

Word count: 1.3k

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"It's creepy right? Who does this? Why did I buy it?!"

Spencer had been home for about fifteen minutes before he went and hid inside the bedroom. It took you another twenty before you ventured into the hallway quietly and heard him talking to himself in progressively more panicked whispers.

This was not normal but maybe it had been a bad case. However, when that happened, he was usually inclined to cling to you in silence until everything felt a bit less, not hide away.

This is not it.

"God, I'm a pervert!"

Okay, that's enough. You need to intervene. You give a few overtly loud steps to warn him of your presence.

Spencer is pacing the room back and forth, a black bag in his hand. He flies to hide the bag behind his back the moment you walk in, a blush spreading through his cheeks.

"Spencer? What's going on?" You ask cautiously.

He gives you a reassuring smile, a poor attempt at one at least, "Nothing! Nothing, everything is completely fine."

You arch your eyebrow, "Really?"

Spencer presses his lips together in a line and nods way too quickly.

You sigh, torn between amusement and slight concern, "You know you are the profiler of the two of us, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Then you shouldn't be this bad at hiding something, Spencer." Your deadpan look only manages to turn him redder.

Staring back at you guiltily, he gulps. "I– I'm sorry, sweetheart."

You give a few tentative steps closer to him, your expression turning more worried by the second, "What's wrong, Spence? Did something happen?"

He's quick to shake his head and reassure you, "No, no, nothing like that, everyone's fine."

You exhale a relieved breath.

"It's just... silly." Spencer finishes, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.

Closing the distance between you two, your hand comes to rest over his chest, "It's okay, you deal with my silly all the time," you give him a small encouraging smile, "What does the pretty doctor have in between hands?"

"I–" he hesitates again before sighing and mumbling like a child, "I bought you something."

"Oh?" you truly didn't expect that answer, surprise flooding your features, "Why are you so flustered then? Can I see it?"

The crimson color returns to his cheek and you think he's a second away from bolting out from the room. He hangs his head in defeat and finally relents, revealing the mysterious black bag from behind his back.

Giving him a quizzical look, you take it in your hands. You're almost apprehensive as you pull out the silk paper from the top and discover a small nondescript box inside. The cardboard feels expensive against your hands, you shoot your nervous boyfriend another glance before finally opening it.

"Oh."

Silence fills the room for the next few seconds. You're about to open your mouth when—

"I'm sorry!" Spencer's nervous energy snaps and he starts babbling out an apology, "You don't have to wear it. I shouldn't have bought it without asking you first. I– I can't return it but we can just toss it and forget about it. I'm sorry, really, please don't think that I'm a creep."

You can't help it, you laugh at his frantic response, "Calm down, Spencer, you're not a creep. I love it."

Spencer seems about to go off into another lengthy apology before your words register on his brain.

"...What?"

"I love it." You smile genuinely at him before looking down at the contents of the box. Inside rests a set of lovely purple lace lingerie. Your hand reaches for the material and your smile widens even more at the luxurious feel of the fabric.

You launch yourself to hug him, "Thank you!"

"You're not mad?" He asks as if he was expecting you would slap him rather than hug him. You feel the heat of his flushed cheeks against you.

"Why would I?" You take the garments between your fingers and appreciate them closely. Taking pity on his nerves, you give his shoulder a comforting squeeze, "You're allowed to buy sexy underwear you want to see your girlfriend in, Spencer."

"Am I?" he says incredulously.

"Yes," You respond, chuckling and then grinning excitedly, "I'll go try it on!"

His eyes widen comically and before he can say anything else you run with your new set to lock yourself inside the bathroom.

You shed your clothes and put on the lacey bra and matching panties, critically observing your reflection on the mirror. It's a really pretty set. The lace feels soft and expensive against your skin, Spencer must have spent a considerable amount on it.

The lingerie set it's not even that risqué to have put Spencer at the edge of a panic attack, you think to yourself with amusement, you've seen more provocative stuff in department stores.

Trutfully, it's perfect. The bra hugs your breasts, pushing them up and leaving the top prettily displayed, the panties frame your bum flatteringly and cinch around your hips perfectly. Plus the color contrasts nicely with your skin tone, though you suspect that's not the reason why he chose it.

Giving one last appreciative glance to your figure, you fluff your hair before exiting the bathroom.

You find Spencer sitting on the side of the bed, playing with his hands like he always does whenever he's nervous. His head immediately snaps up at the creek of the door.

Gathering all your courage, you put on a show, walking through your room with an enticing sway of your hips, your eyes staring directly at him.

Humming the tune of that one sexy song, you give a slow and playful turn to let him take you all in. You stop when you are facing him again, your hands resting on your hips and your eyebrow raising expectantly, "Well? How do I look?"

Spencer is too stunned to speak, his mouth parted in a dumb expression of wonder. It gives you an incredible rush.

"Sweet heavens," he exhales, you don't think he knows he's saying it out loud.

Under his admiring gaze, you become suddenly shy, your hands crossing over your middle, not knowing how to deal with so much of his undivided attention. "Oh, um... it fits."

"It certainly does," Spencer whispers in that airy tone again, his fingers stretching towards you and delicately tracing the edge of the lace panties. Goosebumps erupt all over you.

"Didn't think you'd know my bra size," you comment, desperately trying to stop your heart from wildly beating inside your ribcage.

"I didn't," He pulls you closer and you fall onto his lap, your arms instinctively closing around his neck, "I calculated it based on my memories."

"So you've thought about me naked while you were buying it," you say, regaining some of your confidence.

That seems to pull him out of his indulgent trance, his ears turning a bit pink, "Well... yeah, but just because they said I couldn't return underwear and–"

You stop him before he flusters himself again, "I'm just teasing you, Spence. You are also allowed to think of your girlfriend naked."

He looks up at your face and his lips curl in an uncharacteristically smug smirk.

"Not now!" You exclaim chuckling and slapping his shoulder playfully, "I guess that eidetic memory can serve naughtier purposes."

Spencer huffs out a laugh and closes his arms around your waist, pecking your lips sweetly, "You liked your present then, sweetheart?"

"I do, it's lovely," You pretend to go for another kiss but instead push his chest, making him fall back on the mattress.

“Hey,” he protests weakly, looking up at you with adoring eyes.

You lean forward, caging his head between your arms, a coy smile forming on your face, “Let's give that wonderful brain of yours a fresh memory to relive, eh?”

Let's just say the lingerie set doesn't stay on for much longer after that.

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I'm shamelessly peaking my head in here again, sorry for taking so long without posting, life has been having fun kicking my ass but luckily I'm on vacation now so I'll be more active yaaay

♡, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

Requests are open!!

hope ya liked it, byebye

my masterlist

[daydreamingqueen1]

my chosen celebrity writer here on tumblr reposted one of my works

today I am God

[daydreamingqueen1]