All my firsts.
All my stories are R18. I write smut, and I may touch sensitive topics or topics that are not intended to be read by minors.
YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN CONTENT CONSUMPTIONS.
Masterlist
Pairing: Spencer Reid x F!Reader
Warning/Tags: Inexperienced Reader, Smut with barely any plot, Fluff, Virginity Loss, Spencer talks you through it, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), use of petnames (just honey). If there's another warning I forgot, I may add it later. It's proofread, but if you see any mistakes, feel free to point them out!
Word count: ~3.7k
Summary: After months of being together, Spencer comes to the realization that you don't like him enough, just to realize you are nervous about taking a step further.
Author's Note: So, I'm technically in a hiatus, but I owed something to my Spencer's girls. I might be posting small things to not let my blog die, but I can't promise much.
The bar had a dim light—cold light with blue hints through the whole venue. You were trying to enjoy the sweet drink you had had in front of you for almost twenty minutes. The ice had already melted long ago. A pretty notorious guy had been staring at you for the last ten minutes, even when you tried not to look at him.
You were stirring the drink while you hummed the song that was playing when you noticed the same man was now trying to avoid completely staring at you. When you turned your head, you finally saw him.
Blonde, more like a caramel-colored, and unsheveled hair, tired and glassy eyes that could ask you for anything, and you would say yes without hesitation. Perfect, almost heart-shaped lips, thin but… somehow inviting. A white shirt with a blue cardigan made him look even more handsome.
You smiled at him—after all, with just his mere presence, he had made that man stop staring at you. He pursed his lips in a smile.
"Thank you," you said a bit louder to be heard. He shook his head in response.
"Why? I just sat here, and somehow that was enough for him to just stop staring."
You chuckled and smiled, "Well, it did more than my ignoring tactic."
"That rarely works—" He sighed and stopped himself.
He was about to start talking about behaviour in depredators and statistics when he reminded himself he was there to try to make friends that had nothing to do with his job.
You furrowed at his sudden silence, "What are you drinking?"
"I—just whiskey, I guess. This is what I started drinking some months ago, and I stuck to it."
He noticed how your legs started to point at him while your shoulders started to relax as the conversation kept flowing—he was happy that someone could see something else in him than just someone who was broken.
And he finally decided, when he saw you were looking at your phone constantly, to ask for your number.
Without noticing, that first night led to late-night textings—to 'Have a great day at work. :)' when you didn't even know what he did at work.
He asked you to leave his work outside of the conversations as long as possible.
You understood—you were a teacher, but understood well what it meant to bring your job home, to stop planning around you and your wishes and start planning around your work necessities. So, you never really asked, he promised you that he was not on illegal things—quite the opposite, but he was trying to live a life outside of all that.
Then, those late-night textings became date after date.
Holding hands, kisses that got heated on the street, lingering touches on clothed skin, make-out sessions that leave you both breathless.
But nothing else.
He was never a man of much desire. Until he met you.
You were the first person in a long time who made him daydream. He would find himself thinking about how your soft skin would feel on his fingers, how pretty you would sound when he found those sensitive spots that made you moan his name.
But he was never going to push anything you didn't want to. He could accept anything you gave him.
This was his setting until the team started to tease him about the fact that he was distracted in the office—he seemed even pent up when someone even mentioned a spicy topic. Everyone could see he was eager to be with you, but every time he tried something, you just backtracked.
One late night at your apartment, you were already in your pajamas while he had on some sweatpants with a fitted shirt. His hair was—like always—unsheveld and looking perfect at the same time.
His mind was racing from thought to thought—he couldn't even hide that he was not completely paying attention to the movie that had been playing for the last hour. He could only think about how, some minutes ago, you were straddling his hips, kissing him as you could devour him, and now you were relaxed, watching a movie like nothing had happened.
"Spencer, do you want to leave for the night?" You finally spoke, touching his legs, trying to soothe his anxiety.
He choked on his own saliva and shook his head, "No. I—" He sighed, "I can't like stay still through a whole movie, and say I'm fine, right?"
"No, you can't. You haven't even told me a fact about any of the actors we've seen."
He sighed, "Are you—not attracted to me?"
Your mouth fell to the floor immediately. "What do you mean, Spencer? I love you. You look like—dear lord, I can't even express how much I like you."
"Or are you in a kind of sexual spectrum that I'm not aware of? Because I could simply accept it… I don't mind—"
You chuckled and held his hand to make him stop rambling, "What are you even talking about?"
"We've been together for months now—and even when I'm not a person with a high sex drive, I can notice you… avoid going further."
You sighed and looked down.
"No. Wait. I didn't mean—I don't mind. I don't care." He tried to apologize, but you shook your head.
"It's not that I don't like you—it's not even that I don't want to have sex with you." You paused, "I'm just… nervous."
He furrowed.
"Why would you be nervous? It's—not like I have a big experience on the field… Believe me…"
A scoff that feigned to be a laugh escaped your lips, "Spencer… I don't have any experience."
That sentence felt like a brick for him.
He could notice that you got anxious when someone mentioned previous relationships, and you made clear he was just your second partner in your whole life, but he didn't ask for more details. He didn't care about them.
"I haven't had sex… nor anything related to that." You finally admitted, "And I know it's ridiculous, but I… was not interested in it until I met you—and I wanted to tell you, but every time I backtracked…"
"Why?" He tilted his head.
"I thought you were going to think it was sad—"
He bracketed your cheeks with his hands and stared at you for a second.
"I'm trying to find the concussion that made you think such a thing."
You snorted a laugh, "I'm being serious."
He furrowed, his hands still in your cheeks, "And I'm being serious too. I can't believe you have spent these last months thinking I would laugh at something that important."
You looked down.
"I will be ready when you're ready." He mumbled, caressing your cheeks.
"I… think I'm ready…"
He shook his head, "You don't have to be ready right now, you know it, right?"
"I… know… I've been ready for quite a time now… I just didn't know how to bring the topic without sounding desperate or… eager."
"I don't care if you had sounded eager—cause you have no idea how desperate I'm for you… and for how long I've been."
He moved his hands from your cheeks to your hips, making you stand up at the same time as him. You looked at him, confused.
"What are you doing?"
"Not wasting any more time."
He held your hand and walked you to your bedroom. He sat you on the bed, and while he knelt in front of you.
"We will do as much as you want—and if you want to stop, we will stop immediately." You nodded and bit your lips.
He sighed, "Now… I'm going to talk you through it, so you know what to expect…"
"Can—I ask for something first?" Your voice was a thread almost impossible to hear. He nodded at you. "Can you—take your shirt off?"
He put his hands on the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, exposing his bare chest now. He was completely hairless—his white skin with a sun-kissed hint made him look terribly handsome.
Then you noticed some scars on his chest; they were not recent, but they seemed significant.
"I promise to tell you later… just let me have this moment," he mumbled when he noticed your eyes fixed on his scars.
You nodded—he had been hinting that his job was something unusual, but never really gave more than that information.
"I'm going to take your sweatpants now." You nodded slowly, and he started to pull down your pajama. When your bare legs were exposed, he just sighed at the sight.
"Do you want me to take off your shirt or do you want to stay dressed?" You shook, lifting your arms. He chuckled.
"I'm gonna take it off, but you need to use your words, honey. I need to hear you."
He noticed your underwear matched—it was not on purpose. Just plain black underwear, but it was driving him insane.
The way your chest heaved unevenly, how your birthmarks bedecked your skin, how your scars somehow made you look even more beautiful in his eyes.
"Stop staring," you said shyly.
"I can't—look at you. You're something I thought I didn't deserve."
He leaned over you and kissed your forehead, while his hands found the back of your bra.
"Can I?" He mumbled on your forehead.
"Please."
When he clasped open your bra, he was sure he was about to drop dead. His fingers traced their path to your breasts—his middle finger circled one bud carefully, and his free hand was placed on your hip just above the hem of your underwear.
"Do you— touch yourself?" His voice dropped, making you tremble. His eyes were still fixed on your chest.
You nodded, "Sometimes…"
"Do you want to show me?" Your breath hitched at his words, "Just if you want—"
Your glaze dropped to your underwear, heaving your hips to take your panties off. His hands were resting on your side, giving you enough space to get rid of your underwear. You bit your lips when your core was finally exposed to him—your fingers worked their way to split open yourself, two fingers slid inside while your palm caressed your nub, he was agape staring directly at you.
You felt sinful, while he could just think about how gracious you looked with your fingers inside yourself, reaching a pleasure he wanted to give you himself.
When he noticed how your hips started to thrust, trying to reach the climax, he stopped your fingers—just to latch onto your cunt immediately, his tongue delved on your clitoris while his finger dug into your thighs, his eyes were closed, completely engulfed in the taste of your core.
You were completely lost on the feeling—the way he stopped your climax from coming just to immediately make you reach your highest again. The sounds of his tongue stripping on your slit sounded through the whole of your bedroom while you threw your head back, letting the feeling fill your whole.
You knew what orgasms were—you gave yourself some every once in a while. But the way your body was reacting to his tongue and touch was completely new. Was life-changing. You knew there was no comeback from this feeling.
You were shattered—you could feel a fire pooling low in your abdomen, while a trail of electricity roamed through your whole body, and your vision faded to black—still trembling, he stopped just to stare at the way you were coming undone.
He waited—he didn't say anything—didn't even dare to touch you since he didn't want to overwhelm you if you were already sensitive.
"How are you feeling?" He finally asked, leaning over your body—towering over you.
A nod was the only thing you could give as a response; you were really trying to speak, but your mouth was dry, your voice didn't follow your instructions, and you knew that even if you could talk, you weren't going to make any sense.
He smiled and nodded, "Can I kiss you?"
"Please…"
His lips still with your taste on them found yours—his tongue delved yours, but the sudden slight touch of his bulge still covered made you squirm, you giggled with the feeling, and he sighed with a grin on his face.
"Did you like it?"
"It… was amazing…" He smiled, pecking your lips again.
"Can you handle the rest, or do you need to wait?"
"Can… we try?"
Furrowing his eyebrows, you could see how his mind was racing through a million thoughts.
"What?"
"I… didn't bring any… barrier." Your mouth fell open. You never really thought about it.
But somehow you knew—you didn't want to wait any longer.
"I—" you swallowed, "I don't mind—"
Chuckling, he pulled his sweatpants down, his briefs strangled his length, "I will take care of you, do you trust me?"
"More than anyone." You bracketed his cheeks and kissed him again.
He knelt between your thighs, his briefs showed the figure of his twitching dick, and when he finally set it free, your mouth watered with the sight.
It was big—you knew the lengths shown in porn were not something normal, and you didn't really expect to see something like that in real life. But his cock was almost perfectly shaped—it seemed big enough to hurt you if he tried to put it in immediately, but somehow it looked perfect for you.
"I—" He was looking down at his length when you interruped, "I… want to suck you…"
His gaze softened, the hand that held his cock stroked it slowly, while the hand that steadied him tensed.
"You don't have to just because I did it, you know it, right?"
"I know it—and I still want to do it."
The way you asked for it made him accept—he stood up and made you kneel in the bed, your mouth was almost lined to his cock. He stroked himself slowly while his hand stroked your hair.
"As much as you want, honey. We don't have to push it too much." You licked your lip and nodded. "So, give me your hand."
His strong hand covered yours and made you stroke him with care. His eyes rolled back when you finally moved your hand, a guttural sound left his throat, and he tried to compose himself.
His hand was still gripping your hair carefully, and you leaned closer to his cock. "You can kiss it, lick it, whatever you want to do."
Biting your lips, you cut the distance between your lips and his tip, and you kissed it. His hips twitched, making his leaking tip pass through your lips. The salty taste took you by surprise, "I'm sorry, honey. I'm so sorry."
"I—It's fine." You opened your mouth and swirled your tongue around his cock, "Be careful, slow. You're doing pretty good."
His mouth was agape while he stared at you as if you were a master piece with his cock in your mouth.
Your tongue had already roamed through his whole cock when you finally decided to put his cock inside your mouth, your lips closed around the tip, and you looked up, trying to seek some kind of approval.
"You're doing great, honey. Try to hollow your cheeks to create some suction."
You did as you were told. He grunted at the feeling, and you felt almost proud for making him feel that way.
"I'm going to start moving my hips, just tap my hip if it's too much." You tried to say something, but the vibration of your throat made him heave involuntarily.
A giggle came after, and you just tapped his hip to make him understand he was clear. He started to move his hips fucking your mouth with care. Slow, deliberate.
"You look so pretty like this, being completely mine."
Clenching at his words—you could feel arousal drowning your cunt.
You felt his cock twitching on your mouth, and he immediately stopped and pulled out.
"I—'m sorry, did I do something wrong?"
Breathing hard, he was trying to recompose himself when he looked at you.
"You did nothing wrong, honey. I—didn't want to cum in your mouth."
"Oh."
Lazily, he leaned over you again, making you lie down, "Do you really want to do it?"
"Please, please."
"This might hurt or be overwhelming—if you need to stop, just say it." He was stroking himself again, and he teased your slit with his tip. You gasped and dug your fingers into his arms.
"Now… I'm going to try to put it in." You slowly nodded.
Staring where your bodies connected, you saw how he lined his cock to your cunt, and then with his free hand, he started to circle slowly your clit, and he slid in slowly, thrusting carefully, in and out, just the tip, which made your eyes roll back.
He chuckled at your reaction. "Enjoying?"
When your arousal was already flooding your cunt he slid fully in. You gasped and arched your back at the overwhelming feeling. You found his back and made him lean closer. He stopped mid-thrust and stayed still.
"I'm sorry, honey. Are you okay?"
"It was too much…" He shook his head.
"Do you want me to pull out?" You reacted immediately and straddled him, making him impossibly closer.
"No! No…"
"Get it… get it… Don't pull out—I just wanna be sure you're not overwhelmed."
"I'm not… please don't stop."
He started thrusting slowly again, inch by inch, sliding in and out, focusing on your face, trying to find any trace of pain, any trace of backtracking. When the burning feeling finally faded away, you were feeling the real ecstasis, your mouth was watering, while your nails dug traces on his back. He was now hugging you from the back of your neck while you were kissing—almost biting his neck.
You knew it was wrong, but you needed a kind of relief from all the pleasure he was putting you in.
"You're doing just great, honey." His low-pitched voice in your ear made your legs weak.
"Don't stop, Spencer… Please."
The ringing tone of his phone took him out of his trance. He didn't want to stop—you didn't deserve to be left all pent up after finally setting yourself free. He was determined to make you come undone, even if it meant he would have to arrive at Quantico with a strangled erection.
"Do you—?" You asked, trying to make your words make sense, he shook, straightening his body. His eyes were now completely focused on your face.
His thumb circled your clit while he thrusted slightly faster, just enough to make you gasp and clasp your hands on the comforter.
You were trying to stop the coiling shockwaves rocketing in your abdomen. He furrowed when he noticed how you were trying to delay your orgasm.
"What are you doing?"
"You haven't finished—" you mumbled, he laughed.
"This is for you… This is all for you."
He leaned closer and trapped one of your nipples on his lips, licking it—and that was it. The last string holding your orgasm snapped.
Everything cut to white noise, your arms and legs went numb, while he felt proud of the way your body was now responding to all the work done. He didn't stop thrusting until he noticed you were squirming out of overstimulation.
He slid out, and you gasped at the sudden emptiness.
He dropped down next to you; his completely nude body was quite a sight. He took you in his arms and kissed your cheeks.
"Thank you so much for letting me be your first." He mumbled.
You smiled, "I'm happy that I waited this much—"
Then, you finally heard again—his phone ringing.
"Spencer… I'm not dumb… I know you gotta leave." He grunted in your hair.
"I can't say I was sleeping." his voice was muffled as he was hiding his face in the crook of your neck.
"No, you can not." You sighed, "I'll be here when you get back—and then we are going to talk."
He furrowed, and then remembered that you finally saw his scars.
"I owe you a hell of an explanation, right?"
"You can bet you do."
"You are not angry? We just… and I have to…"
You sighed, "I wish you could stay, but I know you have things to do, and I know you prolonged your stay."
"You know I love you, right?"
"I've never doubted it."
After a quick shower, he left your apartment reluctantly, his aching erections being strangled by his briefs didn't help at all, and the drive to Quantico was hell. Even after the shower he took, your aroma still lingered on his whole body, your nails around his body burned with the friction of his clothes.
When he arrived at Quantico, the team was already heading out to the jet. Luke looked at him and smiled immediately.
"I think we interrupted our wonder boy." Luke snorted a laugh, JJ furrowed at the sight, and then noticed it too.
"I was just sleeping—"
They all knew he had a girlfriend—and that he spent most of his time in her apartment, but what gave him away was that reddened mark you left on his neck that he didn't notice on his way out of your apartment.
JJ took a mirror from her purse and showed him what they meant. Spencer's cheeks flushed immediately. He tried to hide it with his hand, but it was too late. The whole team had seen it.
"I think I got some concealer on my purse, just get in the jet, and we will cover it." JJ laughed and patted his back.
After months of Spencer having his mind all over the place, it was the first time the case was solved in record time. They were back at the jet in only two days.
He was sure of something—he needed to finish what you two had initiated. And a stubborn unsub was not going to interfere.