have you ever tried this one?
chapter three : when did you get hot?
series masterlist ao3 notification blog
pairing : virgin!spencer reid x maneater!reader
summary : spencer pops his cherry! (aka the first half of your long weekend with spencer.)
wc : 10k
tags/warning : enemies to enemies with benefits, pornwithplot, coworkers, virgin!spencer, experienced!reader, virginity loss, premature ejaculation several times, p in v, unsafe sex, creampie, lots of talking during sex, lots of talking about sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, sex toys but they aren't used (yet), hand jobs, edging, teasing, dom/sub undertones, dom!reader, sub!spencer, like a little bit of bratty spencer omg, praise, and also condescension cause this is still an enemies to lovers even if they're playing nice rn
a/n : this took so long and i am deeply sorry, so much happened over the course of a few weeks but i'm so fond of this chapter and i hope you are too <3
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“Is this okay?” He pulls away from you, a lock of his hair brushes against your cheek.
You’re a little surprised by your own breathlessness.
“Absolutely.”
“I umm… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“What we’re doing is fine,” You plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth, and another on his jaw. “do you want me to get on top?
“Yes, please.” He nods, letting you put your hands on his shoulders as you ease him down onto the bed next to you before swinging your leg over his lap.
His face is already red, god you love that, hair askew as he stares up at you with pupils blown, his hands awkwardly twitching at his sides.
“You can touch me, start with my waist and see what feels right.” You take his wrists, guiding his hands to your hips. You’ve obviously seen his hands before, but now, while they’re against your skin you’re surprised by how massive they are. Prominent veins along the back, and long, agile fingers, gripping the fleece fabric of your pants for dear life.
His back arches off the mattress as he lets out a breathy whine, gasping as you press him back down. A rather noticeable bulge presses against your thigh in the process.
Out of breath and needy beneath you, you come to a nauseating realization that you can’t believe you didn’t see sooner.
Reid is fucking hot.
You’ve noticed things before, he doesn’t have a completely terrible face, and he’s tall. When he wears fitted shirts you’ve certainly noticed an appealing figure, even if he’s annoying, you aren’t blind. His hair is always a mess, and he has no idea what he’s doing with it but right now, the way it falls in a pretty halo against your pillow… you’re feeling a little mesmerized by the discovery that he isn’t just objectively attractive.
He’s hot, like really hot.
Maybe it’s just the atmosphere, or maybe it’s situational, but right now, you’re noticing some perplexing details about him that just don’t add up with the irritating nuisance you’ve always taken him for.
Like the curve of his lips, and the sharp angular point of his nose, you’d like to feel it pressed against your skin. His jaw is honestly a little ridiculous now that you’re really, properly, staring at him, it’s absurdly sharp, and he’s got a fucking movie star chin. And he’s clean, which is the oddest detail to notice, but his nails are recently trimmed and tidy, and he smells good. He clearly takes care of himself in a way most of the men you meet out at bars don’t.
The way his hands twitch against the fabric of your pants, gently drawing them lower so he can run his fingertips against your bare skin is hot. The way his hips are desperately grinding up against you as you try to pin him down, is hot. And his stupid glasses are stupidly hot.
“Is everything okay?” His voice snaps you out of it.
Shit.
“Sorry, yes, everything’s fine.”
“Can- can we keep kissing please?” His grip on you tightens as you let out an airy laugh.
Leaning down you cup his face with both hands, pressing your lips to his again, he’s hungry. His teeth graze your bottom lip as his tongue pokes at your teeth until you open your mouth.
He doesn’t kiss the way you’d think a virgin would. He isn’t timid as he shoves his tongue into your mouth, desperate and ravenous. All teeth and tongue, and in a rush. One of his hands rests on the side of your face, his ridiculously large hands that practically engulf half of your head.
Eventually his hands wander, clearly nervous as he lets one slide down your thigh, the other slips under your shirt but he doesn't seem to have the confidence to drift any higher than your stomach. He whines when you break away from the kiss, taking his wrist you guide his hand up until your tank tops riding up and his hand is placed over your chest. You’d think you were granting him the greatest pleasure imaginable based on the way he moans, his head falling back in the process.
“Do you own any sex toys?” His voice is high pitched and strained. He squirms, breathing heavy as he cautiously squeezes, whimpering as his fingers dig into your soft flesh.
The question makes your brows furrow. It’s not exactly the dirty talk you’re used to.
“Yes, obviously, but I don’t see how that’s relevant.”
“I’m just trying to plan ahead, while there’s no specific statistic, almost all men experience premature ejaculation when having intercourse for the first time. I’d like to have options to assist me afterwards since I doubt you’re going to achieve climax from ten seconds of penetrative intercourse.” He rambles, in that way you’re used to, except now his eyes are tightly shut, his fingertips glide over your nipple making your breath hitch.
You stare down at him, eyebrows drawn together as you try and make sense of what he just said. Both of his hands return to their place on your waist, his fingers dig in just a little too hard, not that you mind
“That’s…” Kind of sweet, in an insane, ‘only Spencer would think of that’ kind of way. “not something I’m really worried about right now. Let’s just focus on you right now.”
He nods and you take the opportunity to tilt his head up so you can nip at his neck, grazing your teeth along the edge of his jaw before you bite his ear.
“Fuck-” He whines as you run your tongue over his ear lobe. You hardly have to grind your hips against his, he’s busying himself with doing it himself. His hands hold you in place as he thrusts up against you. You brace your hands on his shoulders, sitting up so you can look at him.
His eyes are still squeezed shut tightly as he whimpers. His teeth dig into his bottom lip so hard you’re worried he’s going to break the skin.
So fucking pretty.
Unfairly so.
The flush on his face and neck, the hair falling into his face, the noises he’s making. He’s so fucking loud. You’re sure you’ll be getting some dirty looks from your neighbors after tonight. Whining and groaning as he humps you, you haven’t even taken your clothes off and he’s putty in your hands.
“Oh my god.” He keens as his head pushes back against the pillow. You wrap your fingers around his throat gently, with the intention of getting his attention but the sound he makes when you do catches you completely off guard. A strangled cry as he goes rigid beneath you, groaning as he gasps. “Fuck, shit… fuck.” He spits out a slew of curses through his teeth until his head falls back, the veins in his neck prominent as he cries out.
No fucking way.
Just like that there’s a wet warmth between your legs and a stain on his pants as he cringes.
“I’m sorry.” He buries his face in his hands, you take the opportunity to tangle your fingers in his hair, scratching his scalp.
You couldn’t be more thrilled, your grin spreads from ear to ear.
“For what?” You try to keep the teasing tone out of your voice but it slips through.
He only groans in embarrassment.
“Don’t be sorry, it’s extremely flattering.” You tug on his wrists, pulling his hands away from his face. You really do mean it, when was the last time you had this effect on a guy? Let alone a guy you hardly ever see in compromising positions? The most condescending, insufferable man you know just came in his pants before you so much as took your top off.
This makes every correction, interruption, and outright rude comment he’s ever made, totally worth it.
“Please don’t patronize me.”
“I’m serious, don’t worry about it. How long does it normally take for you to recover? Do you need me to get you some water?” You start to lift off of him but he holds you in place, shifting his hips as he stares up at you. Face still hot with embarrassment.
“I’m all good.”
“Are you sure?” His hips buck up against you, you have to brace yourself against the headboard so you don’t fall off of him but he gets his point across when you feel him already hardening again after just a few moments.
Jesus.
“Pretty sure.” He whimpers.
“Why don’t you get on top for this part, I think if you control the pace you’ll last a little longer.” You climb off of him, laying back against the pillows. He watches, tongue poking out to wet his lips as you kick your pajama pants off, you wore a pair of pretty red panties for the occasion. He stares at you like it’s his first time seeing a woman, wide eyed and slack jawed. You can’t help but grin. “Take your pants off, Reid.”
He nods frantically, he couldn’t move faster if he tried as he kicks his pants down to his ankles and off of the bed. There’s an obvious wet patch on his boxers and an impressive bulge you’re eager to set free.
“Can you take those off too? And your shirt?” You point down and up, he simply continues to nod as he tosses his shirt aside, his fingers lingering at his waistband. You could ask him to do quite literally anything and in this moment he’d do it with a smile.
You don’t even get to enjoy that fact because you continue to be faced by the horrifying truth of his hotness.
Slender and scrawny Reid is hiding some fucking arms under those dress shirts and cardigans. He’s got a little blonde patch of chesthair, and his chest is about as toned as you’d imagine for a human encyclopedia. But his arms, you’re gawking at his biceps. It’s a subtle muscle, you get a really good look right as he’s pulling his shirt over his head as he flexes.
You don’t get a lot of time to dwell on that as he shoves his boxers down, and there’s no going back.
You watch as his cock slaps against his stomach and you can’t focus on anything else in the room. An asteroid could hit your apartment building and you’d still be staring at the monster between his legs.
No fucking way.
“Jesus Reid, what the fuck?” You sit up straighter as he shoves his boxers down his legs until he’s kneeling in front of you completely naked.
“What?” He’s quick to nervously cover himself with his hands but you kick his arms away as you stare, dumbfounded by the sight of him.
“You’ve just been walking around with this thing? I’m surprised you don’t limp everywhere, you’ve got a third fucking leg.”
“Shut up.” You didn’t think his face could get any redder but he proves you wrong, blush spreads down his neck, and across his chest.
“Seriously, what the fuck?”
“Was I supposed to announce it to everyone? It’s a slightly above average sized penis.” Maybe in the porn industry it’s slightly above average.
Boy genius has the biggest cock you’ve ever seen, and you’ve seen plenty.
“How is this fair?” Your eye is practically twitching.
“How is what fair?”
“You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met and you’ve been blessed with this, and you don’t even use it.”
“I can’t be that annoying or we wouldn’t be here right now.” He mumbles under his breath, beet red at this point.
You only scowl in response, laying back, you raise an eyebrow at him.
“What do you want me to do now?” His voice is still tinged with a high pitched embarrassment.
“What do you want to do?”
“I think it’s pretty obvious at this point.” It certainly is, his cock stands at attention, tip red and slick with his previous release. You can’t help but eye the thick vein running along the underside, from base to tip. Just like the rest of him, his cock is aggravatingly pretty. He shifts nervously. “Stop staring at it, you’re making me self conscious.” He grumbles.
“You have no reason to be self conscious, come here.” You pat the space between your legs, bending your knees so he can slot himself between them. “Take my panties off, Reid.”
You don’t have to tell him twice.
Nimble fingers wrap themselves around the fabric at your hips, lingering there and trembling softly as he runs the pad of his thumb across the lace band.
When he doesn’t make a move to pull them down you clear your throat.
“So like… you know what to do, right?”
“Of course I know what to do.” He sounds a bit shrill.
“Would you like some guidance?”
“I just don’t want to mess up.” He sits back, fingers twitching against his palms.
“You won’t, you’re too much of an overachiever for that.”
“I’ve seen a lot of videos, and I’ve read a lot of information, so I know there’s a few different things I can do to start. I just don’t want to do the wrong thing.”
“There is no wrong thing, Reid. It’s sex, it’s free flowing, it’s natural. Whatever you do is the right thing to do.”
“But it’s you. And you’re staring at me with your eyes and touching me with your hands and talking to me with your mouth.”
He has such an endearing vulnerability about him. At work all you get is an argumentative, know-it-all, it’s a little jarring to see him so unsure. It makes you wonder if you should have done this at all.
“Reid.”
“What.”
“We don’t have to do this.”
“I want to.”
“Really? Cause you’re looking at me like a frightened deer. I’m not going to disappear, and I’m not going to make fun of you. But you need to relax, if you don’t want to do this that’s fine but-”
“I do.” You believe it, he sounds almost panicked at the thought of not.
“Then you need to relax.”
“Can you- can you just keep telling me what to do?” His head falls forward, staring down as he mumbles.
“Do you like it when I do that?”
You brush his hair out of his face as he nods.
“You can start by taking my panties off, you’ll feel a lot better if you aren’t the only one with your clothes off.”
He does exactly as he’s told, this time when his fingers grip the fabric he’s quick to tug them down your thighs. You lift your hips to help him, watching as he carefully brings them to your ankles before removing them completely.
The look in his eyes as he stares between your legs is exactly why you decided to give him a chance in the first place.
Devotion.
His eyes are more pupil than iris as he stares silently, tongue poking out to wet his lips before he chews on them, a habit you’re noticing more and more from him.
“I’m gonna need you to warm me up before you stick that thing in me.” You take his hand, resting it on your inner thigh, his fingers fidget nervously against you. “Why don’t we start with fingers, or if you want I can do it myself.”
“I want to do it.” He answers quickly, gripping the soft flesh of your thigh.
“Okay, start with one, and I’ll tell you when to add another.”
“Okay.” His breathing is heavy as you take him by the wrist, leading him gently between your legs, your breath hitches as his fingers slide between your folds, his cock twitches against his belly the second he feels the wetness pooling there. You guide him to your entrance, letting your eyes flutter shut as he finally presses a finger into you.
It’s definitely been a while.
You don’t want to make a fool of yourself but it feels so good to have another person touch you, especially considering the last couple of months have been entirely your own hand and toys.
“Is this okay?” His voice is hoarse as he slowly starts to withdraw.
“Perfect.” You squeak out, taking a deep breath. “I can probably take another.” You aren’t ready for it yet but the burn is so good you can’t help yourself.
He’s happy to oblige, two fingers slide through the slick of your folds before delving into your cunt. He’s slow and precise as he moves in and out, hesitating when you groan, before repeating the motion that pulled that reaction from you in an attempt to hear it again.
“Curl your fingers.” You dig your nails into the sheets around you, struggling to keep your voice even as he does so, hitting that spongey spot inside of you that makes your back arch off the mattress. “Just like that.” You hiss through your teeth.
Oh he’s good.
Your expectations were low, even if you didn’t want to tell him that, but he’s good. He doesn’t just do what’s hard or fast, when you open your eyes he’s studying you. Any noise you make, you make twice, because he tests everything. Curling his fingers, scissoring them, angling them up against you. His free hand eventually comes to rest on your pelvis, applying pressure as he simultaneously crooks his fingers, grinning when you cover your mouth with your hand in a failed attempt to stifle a groan. So rarely do you see such an earnest smile from him directed at you. Your reaction leaves him smiling like an idiot as he does it again, and again, and again, until you sit up and gently push on his shoulders until he withdraws his fingers.
“Where’d you learn that one?” You try to keep your voice steady, your core is buzzing from the sudden withdrawal.
“The internet.”
“For someone who claims to hate all technology you seem to spend a lot of time on the internet.”
“Sure do.” He shrugs, thankfully much less nervous.
You can’t take your eyes off of him as you lean back, resting your head against the pillows as he brings his fingers to his lips with zero hesitation, as if it’s second nature to him. Moaning against them as he sucks them clean.
Jesus.
“Are you ready?” His fingers are still in his mouth when you ask, he hums as he nods. His dick literally couldn’t be harder, it looks almost painful, the weeping red tip, begging for a release you’re happy to give him. “Go slow.” Mostly for your benefit, you’re certain it’s going to hurt at least a little trying to cram his absurd dick into you.
He continues to nod, as he moves closer to you, bracing himself with his hands on either side of your head as his cock pokes at your thigh.
“Are you ready?” He mumbles as you give him a half smile.
“Are you?”
“Yeah, I think so.” You let your hand drift to the space between you, when you take his cock in your hand he whimpers, his entire body goes still as you help to line him up at your entrance. You don’t dare close your eyes now, you don’t want to miss the look on his face.
The sound he makes when he slides through your folds is pornagraphic. Actually, it’s better than pornographic, in porn the sounds are always exaggerated and fake. The sounds he’s making are raw and real. You stare wide eyed as the space between his eyebrows creases, his lips parting slightly as his face scrunches up, if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was in pain, but you know better.
“Oh my god-” His head falls back, you watch as his adams apple bobs, and best of all, you feel the stretch of his cock as he pushes into you. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” He whispers over and over again in an increasingly high pitched tone. Your headboard shifts as one of his hands moves to grip the wood.
He pushes inch by inch into you, the squiggly little vein on his temple looks like it might pop as he lets out a pitiful whine. You let out your own contented sigh as you bask in the feeling of being split open. It’s hard to believe you’ve been willingly denying yourself this feeling for so long. It’s even harder to believe you let Reid be the one to make you feel it.
You thread your fingers through his hair as he bottoms out, his pelvis hitting yours.
If you had known how good his cock would feel buried inside you, you would have unbuttoned his pants on your first day in the BAU and gotten on top of him right there at his desk. It feels like his dick was sculpted for you, thick and pretty, perfectly hitting every spot buried inside of you.
“Oh my fucking god, oh my god-” He’s panting like a dog above you as he babbles on endlessly. “Holy fu- oh my god, fuck-” With a rather loud whine you can feel his hips twitching against yours, he continues to whimper, making little noises as his entire body tenses and your headboard creaks as he leans against it.
Then there is a stillness.
And a silence, in the dim light of your bedroom as he struggles to catch his breath. There’s a wet warmth between your legs as his cock slips out of you.
“I’m sorry.” He says sheepishly, when his head falls forward you can see that his smile is too genuine to convey any actual apologetic feelings.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” You run your hand from his wrist to his shoulder, simply touching him for the sake of touching him. “Do you feel okay?”
“I feel fucking fantastic.” What a shock it is to hear curses fall from his lips. “How do you feel?”
“Splendid.” You mean it, even if you aren’t necessarily satisfied, there is a pleasure in knowing that you’re the first person to see him like this. This version of Reid is so much more agreeable compared to what you’re used to.
“Next time I’ll do better, I promise.” God, you’ll have to find a way to thank Emily without letting her know that this happened, he’s perfect. There’s nothing you love more than a man who’s eager to please. “Can I try to make you come?” The words sound foreign in his voice, like he’s unsure he’s using the right terminology.
“Yeah of course, do you know what to do?”
“I think I can figure it out.” You can’t help but laugh at his confidence, he isn’t the first guy who’s told you he’ll ‘figure it out.’
“Have you watched a lot of videos?”
“Videos, forum posts, as many books as I could find on the subject, I read the book Sex for Dummies.” He’s lighter, and so much more at ease now when he speaks.
“Is that a real thing?”
“It is, and it’s surprisingly helpful and informative.”
“You’re unbelievable.” You sit up on your elbows as he sits back on his knees. “I’m sure you’re very well informed but I’m not the easiest girl to finish, I can do it myself first if you’d like.”
“I’d like to try and figure it out on my own first, if that’s alright with you. I would of course appreciate verbal cues from you if something feels good, or if it doesn’t”
“I can certainly do that.”
He bends your knees, reaching for a pillow he gently lifts your hips to slide it under you to give him a better view. He’s studying your cunt, eyes moving up and down as he sits back.
“Do you masturbate?” His eyes flit to your face as he asks, you can’t help but laugh.
“Everyone jerks off, Reid.”
“Well I don’t know, I thought it might be different when you’re sexually active.”
“It is, sometimes I go a few weeks without doing it, sometimes I do it everyday, it depends more on my mood than my current partner.”
“Hmm.” He nods, seemingly truly invested in the information you’re sharing with him. “How do you normally do it?” If you didn’t know any better you’d say his limp dick was starting to swell again.
“I use toys, unfortunately these-” You hold your hand out in front of him, wiggling your fingers to show off your manicure. “prevent me from using my fingers most of the time. So I have tools to help.” While your arm is outstretched you take the opportunity to grab his hand, pulling him closer so his hand hovers just over your cunt.
“Can I see them?”
“My toys?” You aren’t sure if you want him to, even if he’s been inside of you, it’s an oddly intimate thing to share. He nods, eyes so wide you can’t say no. “If you can make me come.”
He nods again, a determined look flickering in his eyes.
With a surgical precision he separates your folds, examining your entrance with intense focus, with his other hand he pushes the come leaking out of you back in. Fingers scooping and pressing into you before pushing fully in, two digits sink into you, just as you’d instructed him to do previously, this time he curls them almost immediately. With a small gasp your eyes flutter shut.
“What feels better, this-” He curls his fingers again, harshly. “or this?” He presses deeper before withdrawing swiftly and pressing deep again, holding his hand there the heel of his palm grinds against your clit, your head spins as you groan.
“That, definitely that.” You grit your teeth as he repeats the motion, much slower this time as he finds his rhythm. Moving in and out ever so slowly as your fingers grip the sheets, an obscene wet sound accompanies his efforts. The hand that was parting your folds moves to your thigh to push your legs further apart as he crouches down, squinting as he looks you over, as if he can discern the secrets of the female orgasm by taking a closer look.
The pad of his thumb swipes across your clit making you squeak as your hips buck involuntarily.
Your eyes fly open when you hear the hiss of air and a sharp, wet sound, feeling a wetness dripping between your legs.
“Did you just spit on me?”
“Proper lubrication can help to reduce friction, it’s for your comfort and pleasure.” He explains it like he’s presenting evidence, but you can see his cock swelling against his stomach again.
“Really?” You cock an eyebrow at him, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Really…” He rubs an experimental circle against your clit, spreading his spit across the bundle of nerves as your breath catches in your throat. “I also saw it in a video once and thought it would feel good to do, and I was right, it felt amazing.” He mumbles that last bit as his concentration drifts back between your legs, all of his focus on you as he finds a solid pace between both of his hands.
You alternate between arching backwards, with your head leaning back, and shifting forward when you can, watching him closely.
His tongue pokes out between his teeth, his focus is almost comedically intense, but there’s nothing funny about the way he’s working his fingers. He continues to try different things, moving his thumb a certain way, applying different amounts of pressure. Shifting his fingers to be angled a certain way until he finds the perfect position to brush up against all your most sensitive nerves.
He’s relentless once he finds a way to make your eyes roll back and your legs shake, robotic in nature as he repeats the motion perfectly, again and again.
“Fuck, Reid-” You mumble, trying to stop yourself as the words tumble out. The last thing you need is for him to get an ego about this after you just told him it wouldn’t be an easy task.
“Does it feel good?” His voice is hoarse, coming out as a strained whisper.
“Mhmm.” You hum as your hips lift off the mattress an inch as he crooks his fingers a bit. Your head is spinning as you suck in another breath. He carries on like it comes naturally to him, as the knot forms low in your stomach. “Like that-”
The instinct of most men when something feels good is to do that thing harder and faster, which never really works out for them. Reid seems to have better intuition than most men though, instead he maintains that delicious pace. Fingers buried deep within you as you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle the cry threatening to burst from your throat.
Until the knot in your stomach tightens, until it pulls taut, and threatens to snap.
Your toes curl, digging your heels down into the mattress as you lift your hips. Despite the way your hips twist around wildly he manages to keep it up, burying his fingers deeper until the knot snaps and you come, hard.
Clamping down on his fingers as you let out a series of moans. You open your eyes just long enough to see the satisfied smirk on his face. His own eyes are hungry, never leaving your cunt.
The pressure in your head releases as you let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in, your body going limp as you reach down and shove his hand away, the overstimulation buzzing through your body as he continues to try and play with your clit. You don’t get a lot of time to recover because he’s back between your legs, hard cock in hand as he guides himself back against your entrance.
“Again already?” You raise an eyebrow but he’s too hyper focused on what he’s doing to answer. You’re wet enough that there’s no resistance as he slams back into you. The stretching feeling returns full force as he forces himself into your already overstimulated cunt. “Jesus, Reid!”
The feeling of fullness is overwhelming. You manage to yelp as he thrusts into you a few times, the head of his cock hitting your cervix with every sloppy thrust until his head falls back and you see the now familiar sight of his eyes fluttering shut as he comes, immediately melting into a whimpering mess. His face and neck are bright red as he falls over beside you.
As he sucks in a harsh breath his hand wanders back between your legs. You instinctively swat his hand away, too sore for whatever he’s trying to do.
“Are you done already?” There’s a tinge of disappointment in his voice that makes you laugh.
“For now, there’s no reason to wear yourself out on night one, Reid.” You’re still fighting to catch your breath.
“It’s gonna take a lot more than that to wear me out.”
“Oh, I intend to find out exactly what it takes.” You sit up on your elbows, eying him.
“Yeah?” You watch as he licks his fingers clean again. You could watch him do that for hours.
“This is just training for what I have planned for you, think of this as the academy, pretty boy. I plan on having you ready for field work in record time.” The nickname isn’t one you’ve used before, typically only Derek calls him that but it feels appropriate considering just how pretty he looks right now.
He moves to lay beside you, a sheen of sweat coats his skin, he smells musky in a good way, a mix of earthy and sweet. The heat of his body has made the ends of his hair curl.
“I graduated top of my class, and I completed all of the courses in a tenth of the time it took the rest of my class. It would have been less time but they didn’t believe me when I told them I’d finished all of the course content.” He traces his fingers up and down your arm as he beams at you like the sun. It genuinely looks like he’s lost ten years worth of stress in the last hour, the constant tension he carries in his shoulders has melted away, and his eye bags almost seem less dark. You can’t help but put a hand on his shoulder, lightly scratching your nails against his pale skin.
“How’d you do on the physical assessment?"
“Worst in the group.” He grins, flashing his teeth at you.
“Poor thing.”
“I got over it, being the youngest person ever recruited for the BAU was a nice consolation prize.”
“I hope your stamina has gotten better since then, I intend to put you through some endurance training.” You dig your nails into his shoulder.
He frowns as he theatrically groans.
“Oh you’ll be fine. It’s clear to me based on how you act that you’ve never once denied yourself anything. You need to be told no every once in a while or you’ll get spoiled.”
“Can I see your toys now?”
You pull the blankets up and over yourself, an exhaustion muddling your thoughts as you yawn.
“In the morning, get some sleep, we can talk about it in the morning.” You roll over onto your side, facing him. He shifts awkwardly as he pulls his boxers back on.
“Should I… go sleep on the couch? Or I could go home and come back tomorrow.” He starts to get up but you gently grab his arm.
You should send him home. That’s what you’d typically do after a night like this, but this isn’t a typical night. If this is going to be an ongoing thing between the two of you then it doesn’t hurt to let him spend the night.
“Lay down, Reid.” He does as he’s told, shuffling underneath the sheets with you, laying on his side so you’re face to face.
You try to ignore him and close your eyes but he makes it hard with the intensity of his stare.
“Goodnight, Reid.” You mumble, eventually rolling over to escape his severe gaze.
“Goodnight.” He whispers back.
˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊
He might be in love with you.
His feelings towards you have been confusing and complicated for quite some time. He’s never been able to properly put it into words before. There was resentment there, but now he knows that was likely because he couldn’t have you. And now he does, and he’s pretty sure this whole time those confusing emotions might have just been love all twisted up.
He hasn’t ever been in love but this has to be the closest thing he’s ever felt to it. He has no interest in so much as looking at another woman ever again, why would he? He doesn’t need anyone else, not with you laying next to him.
You’re so sweet, even when you’re being mean. It confuses him and it confuses his penis even more.
He didn’t know you could be so sweet, that must be why everyone at work loves you. He can certainly see the appeal. You didn’t tease him, at least not while he was vulnerable, and you didn’t pull the rug out from under him at the last minute. Instead you made pretty noises, smiled, and touched his hair.
He didn’t want to sleep, he would have much preferred to stare at you as you snored softly beside him but the exhaustion of the evening caught up with him quickly and before he knew it he was out.
He woke up first in the morning, light filtering in through the blinds against his face. He didn’t open his eyes at first, there was a very real possibility that he had dreamed everything and you would be gone when he opened his eyes. He wanted to live in that fantasy for a little while longer.
Yet when he opened his eyes there you were.
Drool on your pillow, lips parted with each quiet snore, your tanktop straps slid down your shoulders. You look like an angel.
He’s tempted to get out of bed and raid your bookshelf, you have so many titles he hasn’t ever heard of, he doesn’t care about the contents so much as he wants to feel closer to you. But he’s worried he’ll wake you if he moves so he doesn’t. He just enjoys the steady rise and fall of your chest with each breath.
When you do finally wake, a wave of unease crashes over him as he waits for you to furrow your brow and glare at him before kicking him out. Instead you smile, and his heart feels like it’s beating so fast it may burst.
“Morning.” You rubbed your eyes and reached for him, he’s more than happy to wrap himself around you.
“Good morning.” He murmurs, burying himself in your arms as he twists his arms around you, resting his head on your chest.
“What do you want to do today?”
“This.”
“There’s too much time in the day to only do this.”
“Well, what do you want to do?”
“You mentioned a chess tournament at some point, it’s today right?”
“You actually want to watch that?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“It might be boring for you.”
“I know how to play chess, Reid.”
“You know all sorts of things.”
“I do, in some cases I’d say I probably know more than you.” Your nails scrape against his scalp as you comb through his hair. He’d always thought your long nails were impractical, another way for you to draw attention to yourself. He won’t be raising any more complaints about them going forward, not when they feel so good against his skin.
“What else will we do today?” He tries not to sound too hopeful when he asks.
“We can do whatever you’d like.”
He would like to touch you more, he feels like he’s only scratched the surface of your body. He’d like you to give him permission first and foremost, or preferably, you’d ask him for it. He’d like this version of you, the one that lets him into your bed and says sweet, mean, things to him, to be the only version of you.
“Can I see your sex toys now?” You roll over, hiding your face in the pillow and groaning as he sits up. “You promised.”
Turning your head you peek up at him.
“I suppose I did.” You just lay there for a moment until you sigh and lean off the bed, reaching underneath before throwing a shoe box down onto the bed in front of him. “If you tell anybody about this I’ll-”
“Kill me, deny it, never let me touch you again. I think we can just assume at this point that I don’t intend on telling anyone about any of this.” You roll your eyes at him as he reaches for the box.
You lay back down beside him as he flips the lid up, eyes widening as he stares down at the contents. Immediately with a grin he picks up the silicone cock, holding it out towards you.
“Really?” He can’t help the sarcastic tone that seeps into his voice.
“What? Most women have one, if you’re gonna be a dick about it I’m gonna put them away.”
“Do most women have one so pink and sparkly?” You yank it out of his hands, throwing it back into the box.
“It doesn’t matter what color it is if it gets the job done.” When you cross your arms in front of your chest he picks it up again.
“And this little toy gets the job done?” He thinks about how your jaw dropped when you saw his dick for the first time. You stared with wide eyes and told him he was big, just thinking about it makes his face feel hot. He’s certainly bigger than this tiny thing.
“Big talk from someone who came immediately." Low blow, you always resort to those when you don’t have a better response.
“You promised not to tease me about that.”
“And I didn’t, I’m just stating a fact.”
He sets the dildo back in the box, lifting the next thing to demand his attention, a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs up.
“Theres a lot to address in this box but these are certainly eye catching.”
“Don’t get too excited. I got those as a gag gift, Emily gave them to me for my birthday.”
“Have you ever used them?”
“No, I prefer real cuffs.”
His mind races at the thought, any witty retort he might have formed fizzles out. You, handcuffed to the headboard, with your arms behind your back, to an interrogation table. All the blood in his head rushes out of his brain straight down to his dick as he flits through the possibilities, you, on top of him, pinning his wrists above his head, doing whatever you want to him.
“Earth to Spencer.” You're snapping your pretty manicured fingers at him as he blinks at you.
“Sorry, I must have zoned out.” He drops the cuffs, pulling one of your throw pillows into his lap. “What’s this?” He holds up a silver pill shaped thing with a wire attached to it, leading to a small plastic remote with a wheel.
“That would be my vibrator.” He’s never seen a vibrator that looks like this and the confusion must be apparent on his face. You take it from him, when you spin the wheel and the silver pill buzzes to life on the bed. “Most women don’t own the big hitachi wands you see in porn. Those things are expensive.” You seemingly read his mind, he had in fact been picturing the larger wands he’s seen in countless videos. He does recognize the last thing in the box, another flash of silver. A very small silver plug with a pink gem at the base, in the videos he’s watched they were usually a lot bigger. He can tell by the way you’re raising your eyebrows at him that you’re waiting for him to ask about it, he decides against it.
“I thought there would be more.” He tucks everything back into the box, sliding it back over to you.
“I think that’s a perfectly normal amount for a person to have.”
“You always make it sound like you’re hiding chains and whips in your closet.”
“Do you want me to invest in chains and whips?”
“You lie a lot at work.”
“You listen in on too many of my conversations.”
“You talk loudly, why make things up? I’m sure you have plenty of stories that are true.”
“Because I like to tell a good story, besides, most guys aren’t into that kind of thing.”
“Are you into that kind of thing?”
“I’m into everything.”
His dick is so hard it hurts.
“And you would like a guy who is also into everything.”
“There’s that big brain of yours putting in the work.”
“So you would want a long term thing with that kind of guy?”
“Don’t be weird about it, Reid. I have no desire to put a label on this.” Of course you don’t, you have an avoidant personality and you’re terrified of the thought of someone getting close enough to see behind the strict facade you put on. “But yes, I think we’re in agreement to enjoy each other's company outside of work. It’ll help me relieve stress and hopefully you won’t be so uptight if you’re regularly getting laid.”
He wants more than getting laid regularly. He wants you, now more than ever. But until he figures out how to get that this will have to do.
“So we agree that this is a long term thing?” He does his best to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice.
“It’s a long-ish term thing. If you must have something akin to a label you could call this a friends with benefits situation.”
“So we’re friends now?”
You frown at him.
“Coworkers with benefits, BAU with benefits, enemies with benefits, whatever you want to call it.” He has lots of things he wants to call it, but he knows that if he does that you’ll run far away from whatever this is.
Long-ish term thing.
He hates that.
Now that he knows what it feels like to have you moaning underneath him he’s not sure he can handle life without it.
It’s fine.
It’s going to be fine.
He’s solved harder cases than this.
When he gets a chance to focus on something other than how beautiful you look right now glaring at him he’s going to figure out exactly what it’s gonna take to get rid of the ish in long-ish term thing.
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You spend most of the day on your back.
On the couch, on the bed, on your bedroom rug at one point.
Spencer acts like he’s found some kind of groundbreaking discovery in your vagina. And if he doesn’t check on it often enough it might disappear or change.
You get up to make breakfast and he offers to make coffee. When he hands you a cup you’re almost irritated at how good it is, he knows exactly how much creamer you like and he’s seemingly brewed better coffee than you’ve ever made with your shitty french press.
When you moan at the taste and set the mug down he seemingly can’t help himself. That sound is like a dog whistle to him. He leans against the fridge, staring at you with a tent in his pants until you roll your eyes and smile at him.
“Do you want to do it?”
He doesn’t even answer you, you're simply dragged to the couch and he’s on top of you.
The eggs end up burning but you’re happy to make more.
When you tell him you’re going to try and finish the book you’re reading he follows behind you like a dog on a leash. He doesn’t bother you, letting you sit against the headboard he finds his own book from your shelf. It’s one you have read, Bride.
The sight of him with a romance novel in his hands with his brows furrowed makes you burst into a fit of laughter.
“What?” He already sounds offended.
“Nothing, I just don’t think that’s the type of book you usually read.”
“I read all types of books.” He seems insistent so you let him flip his way through it. You don’t get through more than a page of your own book because you’re too focused on him. The way his eyes get wide when he clearly gets to a sex scene, or how his eyes flit up towards you when he gets to a page you dogeared on your own read through. It only takes him a few minutes before he’s closing it and staring at you with a mix of horror and awe. “You read that kind of thing at your desk at work?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“It’s porn! It’s extremely inappropriate! Can you imagine if I started reading a dirty magazine at my desk?” His face is red as he throws the book down onto your end table.
“It isn’t all porn, there’s plenty of plot and story.”
“I’ve seen you reading this exact book at work before, I can’t believe you’ve been reading this type of thing on the clock.” He seems genuinely frazzled by the thought. You can’t stop laughing as his voice gets higher and higher. “I can’t believe you read this around other people!”
“Relax, Reid, all the women in the office read books like that at work. We actually have a little book club.” He puts his head in his hands as he groans. You’re sure he’s mentally recalling every book he’s ever seen J.J, Penelope, and Emily reading at work, trying to piece together the contents based on the titles he can remember. You put your hand on his leg as he runs his fingers through his hair nervously. “Isn’t it kinda hot though? To read something like that in public?”
That’s all you have to say to get him back on top of you, it’s almost too easy.
After that sort of thing happens about five more times you tell him you have to shower. He stays in your bed, reading more of your books with a horrified look on his face. When you return in a towel he’s on his feet immediately, hands on your waist as he tries to guide you to the bed.
“I don’t want to get the sheets wet, let me dry off first.” You laugh but he’s quick to get you on the floor instead. Even if you know it’s only going to be a few seconds it feels too good to pass up on any opportunity to get his dick inside of you.
Around 6:00 p.m. he orders dinner for you both, picking through the takeout menus on your fridge you don’t have to so much as lift a finger. One of the perks of his stalker tendencies is that he knows exactly what you want from the chinese place down the street.
You set up the chess tournament stream on your television while he does that. Waiting on the couch until he joins you, even after he’s been inside of you he still sits on the other side of the couch, legs pressed together with his hands on his lap like he’s afraid of taking up too much space.
“How long is the average chess game?” You slide closer to him, until your legs are touching.
“You can’t really put a number on it, there’s blitz games, rapid games, standard games, tournaments are normally the longest.” He always relaxes when he’s explaining something he knows a lot about.
Which is most things.
“How long is this tournament?”
“It’s a longer one, but the time will depend on how the match goes, it could be as quick as a few minutes, though I seriously doubt it, it’s much more likely to be between three to six hours.”
“That long?”
“We don’t have to watch the whole thing if you don’t want to.”
“No, I want to.”
Thankfully it’s only the first match he’s interested in watching. Over the course of the next three hours you’re surprisingly entertained. He explains everything to you in a way that is shockingly not condescending.
After half an hour the food arrives, and of course he’s ordered you your favorite dinner combo, you swallow a comment about how he’s a creep.
It’s kind of nice to have someone care so much about things like that.
He spends the rest of the match explaining the players origins and significance to the chess community.
When he isn’t correcting you about something you said, his ramblings are surprisingly interesting. You don’t play a lot of chess but he explains every move made in great detail to you, it almost makes you feel smarter. An hour and a half into the match he tells you who the winner is going to be, and after another hour and a half, he’s proven right.
He reaches for the remote when the match is over but you grab his wrist to stop him.
“Let’s watch one more.” You give him a reassuring smile, who knew the know-it-all was going to need so much encouragement after the day he’s had.
“Are you sure? It could be another long match, we can watch something else if you’d like.” You’re sure, you’ve got plans to keep yourself entertained during this next game.
“No, I want to watch this.” You move close to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He balls his hands up into fists in his lap when you do.
For someone who's come inside you multiple times today he sure is nervous. He isn’t typically. Awkward, sure, but nervous? You’ve found him to be overconfidant most of the time at work.
You start with a hand on his thigh, ignoring whatever might be happening on the T.V. as you scratch your nails against the cotton of his sweatpants.
“Take your pants off.” That’s all you have to say to have him lifting his hips up off the couch, he unceremoniously shoves his pants and boxers down to his ankles before he starts to get on top of you. “Sit down, Reid.” You keep your voice even as you click your tongue.
It’s so refreshing to have him comply without argument. Anytime you’ve ever told him what to do at work you’ve always been met with a whine or a “you’re not my superior agent.” He has no problems with compliance now, as he sits back, staring at you with those doe eyes of his as his cock strains against his stomach.
“You like when I tell you what to do, right Reid?” You’re pleased as punch when he nods hastily. Good, you like telling him what to do. “Then watch the game.”
“What?” He squeaks.
“Watch the chess match.” You say it a bit sterner this time, frowning at him until he does. His eyes dart back and forth from the screen to you until they settle on the screen. His teeth are digging into his bottom lip as he stares, unfocused at the game.
When you’re certain he’s watching you reach forward, he hisses through his teeth when you wrap your fingers around the base of his shaft. When he starts to look towards you you grab his chin with your free hand, gently guiding his attention back to the screen as you move at a snail's pace with your first stroke up and down his length.
“Watch the game Reid. And tell me when you’re about to come, if you don’t I’m not going to be happy.” You whisper as you let go of his face. Watching the way his throat bobs as he nods. “I’d like you to tell me what you’re going to do.” You settle your hand back at the base of his cock, unmoving as he lets out a whine.
“I’m going to watch the game and tell you before I come.”
You make a tsking sound at him, tightening your grip just enough to be noticeable.
“Not before you come, when you’re about to.”
“What’s the difference?” His voice edges towards a whine as you slide your hand up his length, letting your thumb brush up against the pretty pink tip of his cock.
“You tell me when it’s about to happen, that doesn’t mean it’s going to. Before implies an after, there isn’t going to be an after because you aren’t going to come until I give you permission.” He gives you a skeptical look the entire time you speak, there’s a moment of silence before he opens his mouth.
“But what if I-” You swipe your thumb over his tip, and then trace a little circle over it as his words turn into a whimper.
“You aren’t going to come until I give you permission.” You repeat yourself, still in a whisper.
And he fucking pouts.
Bottom lip jutting forward, brows furrowed and wide eyes filled with a dramatic sadness.
Poor Spencer.
You’re a little embarrassed at how wet you are. Thank god you don’t have a penis that would give you away every time he does something stupid that arouses you.
“Don’t you want to make me feel good?” You match his pout, batting your eyelashes at him theatrically, his frown deepens as he nods. “Then you’re going to need to build up your stamina. We’ll both be happier that way.”
“But-”
“No, but.” You shake your head, at him, faux pity coating your words. “You’re going to tell me, or I’m going to be very cross with you.”
He nods as he continues to pout.
You continue to move slowly, up and down the length of him, keeping your grip tight and controlled. It doesn’t take much to get him there, almost immediately his legs tremble, his fingers dig into your throw pillows. His cheeks are bright red as he takes a shaky breath. You drag the pad of your thumb in lazy circles against his leaking tip until he gasps.
“I’m gonna-”
“No, you’re not.” You slide your hand down his shaft, tightly squeezing him around the base of his cock, still and firm.
His head falls back as he lets out a pathetic whine. His Adam's apple bobs up and down as he makes a pained sound.
“Oh come on, Reid.” You can’t help it as you smirk at him as he continues staring at the ceiling. “You can’t already be whining, that’s only the first one.”
“First?” He groans as he sits up straighter. “How many times do we have to do this?” You almost laugh at how frantic he sounds, instead you give him a knowing smile.
“Until the game is done, silly.” He practically jumps out of his seat when you squeeze his cock again.
“I can’t do that!” His voice hitches up, it’s the argumentative tone you’re used to from him. But instead of irritating you, it only serves to egg you on.
“You can, and you will.”
“We don’t even know how long this match will be, it could be hours!” His voice just gets higher and higher.
You only shrug in response.
He starts to sputter but stops, instead he scowls.
“I could just do it myself if you won’t let me.” There’s that attitude you know all too well.
“You won’t.”
“Why not?” He raises his eyebrows at you, pretty bold for someone whose cock is still in your hand.
“Because you want to make me happy.” He opens his mouth but any response dies in his throat as he starts to chew on his lip, clearly thinking. “You want to make me happy, and you want to make me feel good. And you know that if you can control your dick for more than twenty seconds you might be able to feel really good. And you want me to feel really good, don’t you Reid?” With another gentle squeeze of his dick he’s putty in your hands.
“Yes-” He hisses as you trail a finger along the vein on the underside of his cock. “Yes, I- I want to make you feel really good.” He manages to stutter the words out as his dick twitches against your hand.
“I thought so.” You nod, your expression is one of mock sympathy as you start to stroke him again, you don’t bother trying to get him to pay attention to the match. He can hardly keep his eyes open.
Luckily for him it doesn’t actually end up being that long of a game compared to the last one.
Over the course of an hour you bring him to that edge probably a dozen times, until his forehead is slick with sweat and he can barely longer speak. He simply whimpers and chews on his lip with his head thrown back, and like the good boy you knew he could be, he tells you each time he’s about to come.
Not once does he beg you to let him finish.
He really does want to please you. You’re reminded again and again that he’s perfect.
You know it’s going to end in a forfeit when he manages to pay attention long enough to look over the board and sigh in relief. Not even ten minutes later one of the men knocks his king over and Spencer’s practically in tears at the sight.
“You did so good.” You can’t help but smile, even if he can’t seem to stop his eyes from squeezing shut.
“Mhmm.” He hums, quietly as you pick up the pace, the tip of his cock weeps, red and desperate for the release he’s earned.
“You know the best part about having to wait for it?” You rest your head on his shoulder once more, he’s sweating profusely but it doesn’t bother you one bit.
“I- umm- no I don’t think- I-” His words come out half formed and slurred.
“It feels so good when it finally happens.” He’s making a conscious effort not to finish in your hand as you continue to jerk him off, you’re actually impressed. He’s certainly earned his release. “I want you to come, Reid.” Halfway through your sentence his hand grips your wrist as his cock spasm against your palm, you continue to stroke him through his orgasm.
His mouth falls open, lips wet and swollen from where he’s been chewing on them. You’re never going to be able to face your neighbors after thing, he’s so loud. Crying out as he repeats your name over and over again.
You figured with how many times he’s come today he wouldn’t make too much of a mess. You thought wrong, his stomach is covered in his release as you rest your hand on his thigh. You give him a coy smile as he struggles to catch his breath. While he’s still out of it you hop up off the couch, quickly making your way to the kitchen to get him some paper towels and a glass of water. When you return his cheeks are flushed, and he’s staring at you with wide, dark eyes.
There’s too much behind those eyes. Too much beyond lust, an appreciation, a devotion.
That’s what you wanted? Isn’t it? You wanted someone devoted to you without any string attached. You wanted someone who liked to have fun, someone who would enjoy it as much as you do. And that’s all this is.
You shake off the thought, focusing on the mess he’s made instead.
He protests when you start to clean him up but you just shush him. Wiping up the mess and handing him the glass. He eagerly gulps it down in between hitched breaths. He pulls his pants up as you turn the television off.
“Ready for bed?” You’re still smiling broadly as you say it.
And he returns your smile tenfold. You’ve never seen someone so happy because of an orgasm.
He follows you to the bedroom, you flick the lights off in the apartment. When he joins you in your bed he lays beside you, resting his head on your chest.
It’s the kind of thing that’s too intimate for what this is. Too personal. But you don’t have the heart to tell him that, not when he wraps his arms around you so tightly. Not when he did such a good job.
You feel… weird.
Obviously you feel good, that was unbelievably hot. And he feels good, you nearly put him to sleep. His chest rises and falls slowly beside you, if he isn’t already asleep he’s about to be. You just feel weird. There’s an unfamiliar fluttering in your chest.
“You’re right.” He mumbles against you.
“About?” You whisper back to him, you can’t stop yourself from tangling your fingers in his hair, without thinking about it you lightly scratch his scalp.
“About having to wait for it.” His voice sounds a thousand miles away when he says it, it’s the same tone he uses when you’ve been at a case for days and he finally finds some missing piece. He sounds so far away, it makes whatever is happening in your chest stir. Like you’ve got a bunch of butterflies loose in your ribcage. “It really does feel so good when it finally happens.”
˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊
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