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milla984 · 11 months

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It's the Great Pumpkin, Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer and Reader get to spend some quality time together on Halloween

Pairing: virgin!Spencer Reid x fem!reader, virgin!Spencer Reid x plus size Reader

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

TW/CW: heavy kissing, handjob, fingering, brief mention of an anxiety attack, body image insecurities (both parts)

Word Count: 5.4k

This work is part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

“I am officially traumatized,” Penelope blurted out when the end credits rolled on the screen, “remind me to never watch another Halloween movie with you, guys!!”

You could almost hear Spencer squeak in disbelief. “What?! This is a classic!”

She stood up to adjust her skirt, the one with jack-o’-lanterns and spiderwebs arranged in a casual pattern all over the dark fabric, and the bats standing on top of her fuzzy headband wiggled in different directions.

“Uh–uh, La Dolce Vita is a classic. This is what goes on in the twisted mind of someone who desperately needed a hug and a large cup of hot cocoa with a ton of whipped cream and sprinkles as a child.”

You smiled as you finished loading the dishwasher, amused by the discussion unfolding in your living room; in your heart you were the greatest admirer of Spencer’s ability to conjure up any kind of random information on the spot but the exact moment you saw him open his mouth you knew he was about to make the situation worse.

“In fact, Barker’s grandmother had a fascination with the macabre. She would often tell gruesome stories which she presented as true tales so he grew up with the fear of being murdered in his own house.”

Garcia gawked and raised a hand in his direction, simultaneously turning your way. “See?! Forgive me if I don’t think that having my entire body ripped apart by giant hooks is the ultimate frontier of pleasure!”

“And I’ll never look at a puzzle box the same way! What if it’s a brain teaser from Hell and there’s one of those chattering monsters inside?” she added and you had to hold back your laughter because Spencer’s perplexed frown was probably one of the cutest and funniest things in the whole world.

The mustache glued to his upper lip and the cravat he wore over a white shirt and black vest were only adding to it so you forced yourself to remain serious. “I’m sorry… pizza and a movie from my dvd collection were all I had to offer on such short notice,” you said, to which she replied by shaking her long, wavy hair.

“Oh no, sweet pea! You did great, I’m just too attached to the illusion that life is a rainbow to be into the traditional Halloween gore,” she sighed and wrapped herself in a colorful poncho. “Hey, Raven Man! Ready to leave?”

Spencer squirmed: an IQ of 187 and still he was unable to come up with a semi-plausible lie when it came to hiding the truth from his friends. Feeling the weight of her curious stare he swallowed nervously.

“I was kind of considering the possibility of going to the midnight screening of Nosferatu, at the Silver Theatre. It’s the 100th anniversary so the Silent Orchestra will play the entire score live, have you ever heard of them? They use contemporary musical idioms to convey the art of pre-talkies films to modern audiences, they’ve been widely acclaimed for their work.”

Penelope raised an eyebrow. “Midnight screening, huh?! Which means you don’t need a ride home… what a coincidence,” she teased, leaning forward to squeeze you in a passionate hug. “I knew it! I saw it the minute I walked in!”

This time was your turn to shrug with a puzzled expression: Reid and Garcia should have been on the opposite side of D.C. for a relaxed dinner at the Morgans’ after a thorough raid of all the neighborhood porches. However, Derek had called just as they were getting in the car to inform them that Hank got unexpectedly sick and forty-five minutes later All Hallows’ Eve enthusiast Reid (dressed up as Edgar Allan Poe) plus a very concerned Penelope had showed up at your apartment, making you wonder why on earth wasn’t she already busy baking since she kept repeating chickenpox called for the best pumpkin pie ever.

“Well, there goes our plan to keep a low profile,” you groaned as you closed the door behind her, and Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise.

“How…?! Is this what they call ‘female intuition’?”

“Call it whatever you want but I’m glad she’s not mad we didn’t tell her right away,” you replied, proceeding to wrap your arms around his shoulders, “and I can think of another person who’s probably very happy for you, now.”

Spencer got rid of the fake mustache with a pensive stare. When it finally dawned on him that Garcia’s phone buzzing during your impromptu horror-themed movie night had in fact started out as live updates on their godson’s health and most likely turned into a gossip session about you two as a couple he squinted.

“I almost bailed on going trick-or-treating with them. I didn’t because I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, but I also wanted to see you. It’s our first Halloween.”

You nodded. “Maybe we can still get tickets for Nosferatu. You’re a terrible liar, so I’m sure there really is a midnight screening at the Silver Theatre.”

Spencer stared at you, entranced, then pulled you closer and in a heartbeat your lips met his - a sweet caress, tender and soft, your breaths entwined and your noses rubbing against each other in delicate strokes. You gave him a gentle push and he plopped down on the couch as you placed one knee on either side of his legs to straddle him; one of his hands sneaked behind you, exploring you as if he was trying to blindly map your whole back.

You felt his other hand on your waist, hesitant.

Three months had passed since the day you both came to the conclusion you were not “just friends” - three months made of late night phone calls from six different States, of handwritten silly notes you hid in his leather bag each time you drove him to the airport to catch a flight for Houston, three months of you hoping things would eventually move past the PG rated phase.

Three months of your self-consciousness sowing the seed of doubt in your heart, encouraged by the notion of whom he got to share his workspace with: you were no Emily or JJ and even if Spencer wasn’t the type to pay attention to details he frequently referred to as ‘trivial’ you were growing less and less confident.

“It’s fine, you can touch me,” you whispered, guiding his palm to cup your breast. They were pretty difficult to ignore, nevertheless he always seemed to steer away from them as much as he could.

You ran your fingers through his hair until you grabbed a small chunk of his curls; Spencer gasped for air and you brushed your tongue over his lower lip, letting out a muffled moan when the heat between your legs became almost unbearable. You started grinding on his lap to adjust tightly against his body.

��Wait…” he whined, squirming under you.

A second moan escaped from your throat while the pressure of his stiff cock hit your thigh but he shoved you away to free himself and spring to his feet, shaking heavily as if he was experiencing a full blown anxiety attack.

His cheeks were flustered and his hair stuck to his dampened forehead so that he couldn’t even look at you straight - which gave him the perfect excuse to avoid doing it altogether. “I– I’m sorry…”

“No, no, I am…” you muttered, because the guilt building up in your chest felt so heavy you find it difficult to breathe.

Spencer was standing there, fumbling nervously with the cravat around his neck; his body language was screaming discomfort and he was clearly thinking of an excuse to remove himself from the situation. It was then that the hidden and irrational side of you, the one that desperately feared he would have disappeared forever if you’d let him go, kicked in and a rush of adrenaline came running down your spine.

“Please…” you continued, placing a hand over his, “it’s okay, really… there’s no way to control it, you should know better than anyone—”

“Why? Because I’m a man and men are supposed to have zero impulse regulation?!”

The embarrassment and shame in his voice broke you: you had sworn a thousand times in your mind to do your best to be his solace, yet now it seemed you were hurting him like no-one had ever done before.

“No,” you replied, “because you’re the genius, here, and you should know it’s a perfectly healthy and natural reaction.”

He huffed, visibly irritated at what he must have perceived as a patronizing tone. A different sort of emotion crawled under your skin, sparked by the amount of tension stagnating in the air.

You offered him a cushion and glanced at him with your usual no-nonsense attitude. “Sit down, so we can have a proper conversation? You know, like… functioning adults.”

Spencer pouted for a second, evaluating numbers and statistics about two years and a half’s worth of interactions. The truth was, intellectual affinity was such a familiar concept for the two of you that talking your way through an issue was indeed a synonym for a positive outcome.

He grabbed the cushion and held it onto his stomach to shield himself from your gaze, though it was purposely focused on his face; you thought it was best to put some distance between your bodies when he sat on the couch again so you folded your legs underneath you, shivering like a cold draft had found its way inside the room.

“Listen, we can both agree this is not your regular, everyday casual topic of conversation… which is why we’ve never discussed premarital sex—”

“I’m not against it,” Spencer rushed to declare, “I’ve assumed it was the same for—”

“Sure, no! Ditto,” you confirmed.

His furrowed brows relaxed while his mouth curved in a timid smile. “Did you know that every person’s intimate relationships follow a script that has been written according to their own individual attitude towards all –uhm, sexual experiences?”

“I did not,” you admitted, and Spencer’s hands started dancing to the sound of his own words.

“There are sets of guidelines for appropriate behavior, each partner in consensual encounters acts as if they are an actor following a script rather than acting on impulse alone. Researches indicate that women are more likely to initiate contact in well established relationships, negotiating sexual activity in developing relationships can be difficult 'cause both parts have multiple goals to deal with, such as providing relational definitions or following specific standards or morals.”

“Yeah, speaking about relationships… I think we’ve been in one since Christmas, we were just too dumb to say it out loud. And to each other,” you explained. “Sounds like a well-established to me but what’s your take on us?”

He curled into himself. “Every time we’re together I know there’s no other place I’d rather be. I’ve never even imagined it could be possible, I want to feel you even closer… and I’m so afraid I’m forcing this on you—”

“You’re not, I want it too,” you reassured him, “but to be honest I was starting to worry you were not into… me.”

Spencer’s beautiful eyes roamed over you and what you could see was all but repulsion. “Actually it’s the complete opposite.”

“So, what if my script says I’m ready to take things further?” you inquired, inching towards him to tug at the cravat of his costume.

Spencer cupped your face and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Mine is on the same page,” he whispered.

Your fingers immediately went to the vest he was wearing and trailed the line of buttons in a slow movement; you undid them one by one, the hems eventually coming apart to reveal the white shirt underneath.

“Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good,” you purred while you loosened the cravat to uncover his Adam’s apple. The way his muscles tensed as it bobbed up and down drove you crazy, so you teased him with the tip of your tongue - your lips grazing over the short stubble.

Damn him and his impeccable bone structure: the scruffy look suited him so well it always sparked in you the urge to pin him to a wall and sink your teeth into his tender flesh. You loved how he could sport a smooth, professional style when the situation required it still wasn’t concerned with shaving each morning, almost as if it was an impractical activity which took energy away from whatever he considered to be a priority at that moment.

You heard something flop on the floor and stopped your ministrations: the cushion he’d been holding over his stomach wasn’t there anymore, meaning you got to notice his trousers were becoming increasingly tight.

You squeezed his knee to make sure he was prepared for a more intimate contact then you slid it even further on his leg, giving him a couple of minutes to adjust to your gentle strokes before you felt confident enough to move the action to his inner thigh.

Spencer gasped, surprised rather than shocked or disturbed by how close you were now to where he was aching, and he leaned back to ease the pressure of the fabric but kept his eyes on you.

He gave a silent nod in response to your interrogative stare, so you finally traced the outline of his hard cock between your thumb and index.

He jolted this time and muttered under his breath, a deep rasp in his voice you didn’t expect: you were unprepared to hear your name spoken as it was the quintessence of pure desire and you quivered, the throbbing in your ears rolling to your core.

You kissed his temple as you pointed at the waistband of his trousers. “Can I…?”

“Y– yes…” he muttered.

His clothes didn’t have any space left to accommodate his bulge. You palmed over it and felt an impatient twitch, which nearly had Spencer cursing; it was becoming torture for him so you reached for the zipper.

For a split second the historical inaccuracy of a Victorian era costume featuring a device first introduced years after Edgar Allan Poe’s death hit you - a remark Reid himself would have been very appreciative of, which showed how much you could relate to the way his brain worked. Then you shook out of it and peeled his slacks open.

You crumpled the shirt over his stomach and marveled at the sight of his soft belly, the flawless navel, the dark fuzz pointing directly to his raging erection. With a cautious approach you freed it from any restraint, chewing on your lower lip as you often did when you were entirely focused on a challenging task.

You couldn’t exactly say you had many options in your mind to compare him to but you had done a lot of fantasizing: now that he was in front of you, undressed and defenseless, you were downright mesmerized by—

“What’s wrong?!” Spencer screeched, interrupting your train of thought. “Is it odd? Does it look odd?!”

You shook your head, taken aback. “... odd?! No, why?!” you asked. “It’s just…” you petted the roundness to demonstrate, “I like your tummy so much.”

The way it pressed against his belt whenever he sat next to you on your couch or his was overly inviting and in the past weeks you had to fight the temptation to sneak a hand inside his shirt to squish it, because you didn’t know how he would’ve reacted.

“Really?!” he marveled, confirming he wasn’t even aware you had a thing for soft tummies. His soft tummy, to be specific.

You smiled and leaned forward to rest your forehead against his. “Are you okay with me doing this?”

Spencer nodded, his eyelids half-closed, so you let your fingertips follow the trail of hair below his belly button; his hardness twitched again when you got near, then you wrapped your hand around it.

You both moaned in unison, a harmony of pleasure that filled the silence of your living room. You moved along his entire length, feeling the satiny skin sliding over the shaft, and he threw his hair back in a movement that left his jugular exposed: his neck was too inviting and you sucked on it, the groans vibrating in his throat reverberating on your lips.

You gripped tighter when he got used to your caresses. As soon as his muffled whimpers seemed to increase in frequency you circled your thumb over the tip, spreading his leaking precum over the sensitive head. Spencer was at loss for words, a good indication that he was definitely enjoying the moment.

You were enjoying it too; you started to rub your legs together, your imagination running wild and picturing all sorts of scenarios. The mere thought of having him inside of you made you want to touch yourself but you resisted: Spencer was undoubtedly new to this and deserved someone in his life to love him and shower him with attention, so you decided to put his release before your own.

When you twisted your hand at the base of his cock he jumped, missing the bridge of your nose by a few inches.

“Too much?!” you cooed, and he seemed to come out of a sort of drunken stupor.

“No, no… it’s good, I like it…”

You sighed. “Spence, you have to tell me if—”

“It’s really good,” he replied, the urgency sensible in his tone. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded, low-key ashamed of how needy he’d sounded.

You pecked him on the nose as a reassurance you accepted and cherished this version of him: he wasn’t the kind of man to be interested in the crude physical aspect of sex, he’d made it clear. He wasn’t desperate for just anyone to satisfy him - he trusted you to do it, because he knew you were safe in each other’s arms.

You shifted to adjust at his side and returned to your previous occupation; you let your other hand wander over his thigh as a forewarning, then you sheepishly cupped his balls so you could provide additional stimulation and send him over the edge.

He bucked his hips, a loud “Oh, God!!!” escaping from his mouth before he grasped a fistful of your hair. He was hungry for you, his tongue sliding lustfully against yours and his breathing so ragged you were sure he was getting close.

Kissing him was your drug of choice but you also wanted to watch him come undone, thanks to you, so you turned your head while he tensed: he arched his back and bucked his hips once more, nipping at your earlobe. He became harder as he spilled himself over your fingers, wrist and his own stomach with a feral growl.

You didn’t let go of him, not even when his whole body finally slumped down.

The well-defined jaw and unruly curls falling on his face, now so serene, made him appear like a Botticellian masterpiece. Botticelli would have never painted one of his subjects in such a disheveled state, for sure, but the contrast between his angelic aura and the fact he was sprawled on the couch with his trousers unzipped and his softening cock still in your hand was a vision to behold.

“Hey,” you hummed as he re-opened his eyes and found you looking at him, “you’re too cute to be real, you know that?!”

Embarrassed - yet adorably proud - Spencer lowered his gaze, only to grimace at the stickiness on his belly. And on you. “I made a mess, I’m s—”

“We made a mess. Besides, it’s nothing a towel can’t fix, don’t be sorry,” you said, patting his tummy.

You were almost tempted to ask him how long he’d been saving it for, in a clumsy attempt to remind him you’d fallen so head over heels for him you were not at all grossed out; at the last moment you ruled the joke out, though, stretching your legs to get up instead. “Give me a couple of minutes.”

He flashed you the most awkward smile and you forced your feet to move towards the bathroom.

You washed your hands under the hot running water and silently watched a part of Spencer swirling down the drain; the floral scent of the soap was now in the air but you could still feel his - coffee and cologne, accentuated by the faint traces of sweat on his skin.

You had just discovered something new: Spencer was often oblivious of how good he looked (despite the dark circles under his eyes) and that was no mystery, but the idea he might have been insecure about different parts of his body was something you’d never taken into account. If being a couple was the natural consequence of the emotional bond between you - rather than a result of some physical infatuation alone - why was he so preoccupied with your reaction to his half-naked self?

Your brain was going in severe overdrive.

You inhaled and exhaled a couple of times, your fingers gripping on the honed marble of the countertop, then you dried your hands with a towel, grabbed a fresh one and returned to the living room; the instant you approached your couch you realized Spencer had been doing a lot of thinking of his own, and your heart sank into your stomach.

“Wunderkind, are you alright?” you questioned as you offered him the towel so that he could clean himself up. “What’s going on in here?” you added, tapping lightly on his temple.

He shrugged and proceeded to meticulously remove any trace of his seed from his belly and clothes before tucking the shirt into the waistband of his trousers. “Nothing special.”

His left eyebrow raised, due to an involuntary movement of his facial muscles: it was a flash, a glimpse, the undeniable proof he was hiding something. The sound of your intrusive thoughts and fears got so loud you wanted to scream to cover their noise.

“Your microexpressions say otherwise,” you retorted.

Spencer lifted his head to meet your eyes, mouth agape, and you couldn’t decipher the meaning of such a bewildered reaction. You had always been able to recognize his lying frown, his anxious smile, the suspicious squint and a hundred more variations: you were not a member of the BAU but you were an expert on detecting and classifying his emotions, yet you’d never seen that one before.

“It’s… uhm, I’m wondering if it was good for you.”

Your heart leaped and bounced back where it belonged. His job required him to be the one calling people out on their behavior, not the other way round; your presence in his life forced him to face a situation in which his skills as a profiler couldn’t shield him from his own vulnerability, so he was in serious need of some consolation.

You bent over to whisper in his ear. “It was.”

“But you didn’t...” he nervously licked his lips, “and I want you to. Just tell me how.”

In the back of your mind you were 100% sure it would have been the right moment to confess you’d been harboring a few insecurities of your own but your fight-flight-freeze response was already answering on your behalf, making you freeze on the spot.

“Spencer…”

“You don’t think I can?!” he inquired, still convinced his lack of experience was the motivation behind any episode of miscommunication.

“NO! It’s not about you,” you responded in a hurry, hugging him as he was still seated on the couch. “Or maybe it is… ” you gestured to your whole figure, “I guess I’m a bit worried this isn’t what—”

Spencer wrapped you in an equally sweet hug, his chin dimple pressed on your abdomen. “This is soft,” his hands ran to the back of your knees, trailing up, “it’s so soft I’ve got only one thing in mind every time you hug me and I have to stop myself…”

He stopped talking mid-sentence when you guided his palms over your chest and he finally laughed, fascinated by the feeling of your breasts through the shirt.

If he was so happy at the idea you were starving for his touch and was clearly eager to reciprocate it was time to consider the strong possibility he wasn’t just settling for less. “Do you really—”

“Yes!” he replied, enthusiastically. “But I could use a few hints, you know.”

You knew. “May I sit on your lap, kind sir?”

The ‘are you even serious?’ pout on his face deserved an award; now you were both allowed to act silly without the slightest concern one of you was making fun of the other, high on the intoxicating concept of true intimacy.

You positioned yourself so that you were seated on his groin, your back flat on his chest and your head nestled in the crook of his neck, thanking Mother Nature for the existence of refractory periods. Not that it was necessary, but Spencer hooked his left forearm around your waist to secure you as his tongue glided over the soft skin behind your ear. “How do I start?”

“Step one: make some space,” you tipped him.

He gulped loudly and began to caress your knee, ghosting his fingers along the thigh-bone. You shivered in anticipation and when he tried to reach for your inner thigh you spread your legs apart; he flattened his palm, gripping on your muscles and rubbing back and forth - still keeping some distance from your most delicate spots.

You turned to offer him your lips. “Tease me… up and down, light touches.”

He did as he was told. When he ran the back of his hand over your mound you whimpered, the oversensitivity being too much to bear combined with the mind-blowing taste of his mouth over yours.

“Isn’t it frustrating for you?” he managed to articulate in between kisses and you rocked your hips against him.

You could already feel the familiar and insistent throbbing, accentuated by the fact that delayed gratification was a real pain; you were dying for him to placate the fire his hard cock had sparked in you, so you grabbed his wrist and guided it over your stomach, down the front of your panties.

He gasped at the feeling of your tender flesh, the curly hair, the dampness - too many sensory inputs to process all at once. “You’re so… warm?”

“Core body temperature is higher than the temperature of the skin,” you reminded him.

“So warm,” he kept repeating, basic biology facts lost on him because his brain seemed to have switched off.

His palm grazed over your folds and your legs fell further open to give him better access; you stroked his left forearm and tilted your head back. “Only two fingers now, Spence… up and down. But don’t go straight for—”

You tensed when his fingertips danced on your clit and he gripped you even tighter. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but the sensation was so good you could only smile.

“If you plan to go there it’s left and right. And draw a few circles around, big and small...” you explained before words turned into muffled moans as he put your suggestions into actions.

You were still grinding on his lap, your back glued to his chest, and he took advantage of the proximity to trap your earlobe between his teeth, sucking lightly at each change of the pattern he was tracing.

You squeezed his wrist when the flame inside of you grew fiercer. “You can slip your finger in if you want.”

Spencer let go of your earlobe and paused. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for weeks,” you admitted, the weight of your secret vanishing in the air like a puff of smoke.

He sighed and shifted underneath you; just as you were ready to tell him he didn’t have to if he wasn’t comfortable with the idea he slid his middle finger past your entrance and you shuddered in his embrace. His hands were elegant, veiny, and his slender digits made for playing piano or reaching your hidden crevices - you had no doubts about it, but judging by how he was sitting still he had more than one question regarding what to do with them.

“How do I feel? Spence...?”

Even if you couldn’t really see his face, you knew he had a confused-slash-excited look on. “Hot… and wet, I never thought—”

“You like it?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?!” he asked in the cutest high-pitched tone and you laughed, making you both wince at the sudden movement.

All the words in any existent language put together couldn’t describe the amount of affection you had for him. “I like it, Spence,” you hummed, “and it would be even better if you tried curling your fin— FUCK!”

Spencer wasn’t one to waste time once he was given a specific instruction.

He pushed his finger forward and curled it as you said, gliding in and out to slowly familiarize himself with the different textures of your inner walls. He adopted a very empirical approach, experimenting several techniques based on what he’d learned not so long before, while you whimpered and moaned his name; he was moaning, too, and so prettily you couldn’t control yourself.

“Spence, I need more…”

He nipped at your jaw, his long hair tickling your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, I promise”, you panted, almost out of breath.

When he slipped a second finger in you realized that his arm wrapped around your waist was the only thing still keeping you in place: your legs were giving up on you, your hips swayed to let Spencer’s fingers plunge deeper as your back arched and your fists closed around his clothes. He was pumping relentlessly, overwhelmed by your wetness and the way you were taking him inside like he was a missing part of your own body; he tried to reach for your mouth and you turned to grasp the nape of his neck.

“Your hands are perfect,” you whined, “you are perfect…”

He huffed, his heart pounding fast. “Are you…?”

“Please... make me come, Spence,” you begged him in a whisper.

He pressed his thumb on your clit and started alternating between rough circling motions and the upward movement of his fingers, as you bucked your hips at a frantic pace; your thighs muscles contracted, you clenched around him and you ears plugged as you climaxed - something that had never happened to you before.

You tugged at his hair and screamed his name, before settling against his body once the tension faded.

He kept his fingers inside and he cuddled you throughout the aftermath of your orgasm, planting butterfly kisses wherever his mouth could reach and cradling you like his only mission in life was making you feel safe and protected.

Your self-consciousness awoke first, despite the rush of feel-good hormones flowing in your bloodstream.

“Am I crushing you…?” you mumbled, and he grunted as you wriggled free to lean forward and pick up the towel from the floor.

He stared at his wet fingers with a pensive frown, then he wiped them clean and turned to face you - now seated on the couch with your legs across his and your forearm rested on his shoulder, so that you could play with his curls.

“Doctor, you deserve a gold star for your performance.”

He smiled and lowered his gaze for a second. “I’m very good at following instructions.”

“You’re not bad at improvising, either,” you pointed out, “the thing you did with your thumb…?”

“I figured it was only a matter of combining the exact pressure and the right angle. Technically speaking—”

“Spencer?!” you cut him off, before he could lose himself in his own rambling. “Thank you,” you added, kissing him lightly on his lips before you stood up to fix your panties and trousers. “You can tell me all about the mechanics behind one of the best orgasms of my life on our way.”

“Nosferatu. First Halloween together…?” you elaborated when he looked at you in total confusion. “You’ve changed your mind.”

He shifted on the couch, his hazel eyes fixed on you. “Is that okay?”

This time you looked at him with your best ‘is ice cream cold?’ frown: you wanted to spend eternity with him, not just an hour or two more. You climbed into his lap and tangled your fingers in his hair while he cupped your breasts.

“What if I get…? I mean... again?!”

“Well, it’s not going to happen right now, Professor!!" you snorted, and his giggle sounded like celestial music. "But don’t worry, we’ve got the whole night."

NB: I'm not using my regular taglist for Spencer Reid smut fics but I'm obviously tagging only the users who sent a request. If you wish to be added you can send me an ask or leave a comment below with the request to be added.

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wolfnlamb · 1 year

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Can I touch you more?

Suwa Rei’s never been intimate with anyone before until he starts dating you.

Disclaimers: under 18 do not interact. Rei losing his virginity. Rei's the age he is in the anime, about 25. Fem reader, reader has long hair, wears a dress, vaginal intercourse, male receiving, fingering, established relationship, it’s not mentioned but reader takes bc. Word count: 3k. Crossposted on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45403453 Thank you @brujaovermoxy for beta reading and always encouraging me to write <3

Rei lays in bed nervously, still fully clothed in his hoodie and blue jeans. He tries holding eye contact with you from the foot of the bed, but his nerves get the best of him, looking away. He eyes your naked thighs and bare shoulders. You wore a strapless dress this afternoon, the one he always says is pretty, knowing it'd be easier to take off once you both were alone.

You wanted his first time to feel good; have him relaxed and feeling safe. He was a different kind of man; quiet, a little uncomfortable around large groups of people, and always insisting on staying in for date nights. You knew he loved gaming but if you could convince him to leave the house, he always enjoyed walking around the aquarium or the zoo. It took a few dates before he reached for your hand; it happened one day while you both gazed at the tropical fish exhibit. You expected the first kiss that day too, but it never came.

Soon after, he admitted he’d never had sex before. You could see how much it embarrassed him to tell you that night. Of course, this didn't bother you at all. The information tied all your suspicions together. You explained to him that whenever he was ready for more, you’d be ready too.

Rei decided the very next day, he was ready. A soft, reassuring smile lit your face when he finally looked back at you, and his jaw relaxes. You crawl across the mattress towards him, and he scoots to the side to make room for you. Laying on your side facing him, you prop your head on your arm.

“We can do whatever you want,” you softly tell him.

Rei hums, the vibration deep in his throat as he contemplates what exactly he does want. He isn't sure where to start. He knows what sex is and how it works, obviously. He's seen couples passionately kiss in movies, he's heard musicians sing about wanting to touch their lovers. Some of his video games even have scenes where the characters are being ‘intimate’ (He plays those at night when everyone is sleeping) But he doesn't know how to mimic them…how to show this same passion to another. More so, he's worried he’ll fuck it up.

While Rei’s lost in his thoughts, you place your hand on his chest gently, and it brings him back to the moment.

“Do you want to kiss for a little bit?”

Kissing. A kiss. Yes. That's what he wants.

Rei nods slightly and turns to face you. His blue eyes look a little bloodshot, and his hair’s a bit messier than usual. But he looks beautiful, regardless. So sweet. You brush his fluffy bangs back from his forehead, caressing him softly and his eyes flutter. Knowing he may not make the first move, and wanting to take the pressure from him, you lean in and press your lips to his. Your noses smash together by accident, not expecting him to lean in abruptly as well, and you laugh. Panic spreads across his face for a split second and he apologizes quietly, but you return his apology with another kiss before he can continue.

His lips are chapped, and he smells like cinnamon. He must have eaten a mint beforehand, you think, which makes you smirk into your kiss. You slip your tongue across his lips a few times, urging him to part his lips.

The softness of your tongue on his lips has him in a trance, and the thought of touching each other's tongues sends a jolt from his abdomen down to his crotch. He opens his mouth and lets you swipe along his, and he moans involuntarily. Still, with eyes closed, you search for his hand and bring it to your hip, and his fingers dig into the softness of your flesh, scrunching the fabric of your dress.

The afternoon light seeps in between the blinds above the bed as you two continue kissing, becoming more feverish for more. You want so badly to push him back and climb on top, to grind down onto him desperately. But you're going to take your time with him and go at his pace. The more he gets used to your lips, the way you tilt your head to the side and he follows your lead, the more he eases into the rhythm. His hand grips your hip more, and he pulls you closer to his body, letting his fingers slowly gather the material of your dress. Soon your ass is exposed, the coolness of the room drifting across your skin.

Rei pulls away just a few centimeters, lips swollen and a deeper hue than before.

“Can I touch you more?” he asks, his deep voice ringing in your ears.

“You can touch me however you want, Rei,”

His hand grazes across your exposed hip, sliding down your thigh.

“Will you tell me to stop if you don't want to do this anymore?” he asks, his eyes diverting back down to your mouth. He can't bare the thought of you not wanting him at this point, the humiliation of fucking up a perfect moment with you burning unto his cheeks. What if he ends up being really bad at this, and you find him pathetic?

You notice the blush appearing on his face.

“I won’t want you to stop, trust me,” your giggle makes his lips curl up into a smile.

You drape your leg over his hips, straddling him, and he slides his hand up your thigh again. He wants to squeeze the plushness of your ass so badly.

“I promise, I’ll say something if I need to. But you have to promise you’ll tell me if you don’t like something, alright?”

Rei nods quickly and hums. “Mmmhmm.”

And with that, he grabs your ass tightly, kneading his fingers at a steady pace. You both continue kissing and groping on the tiny bed, Rei letting you suck and kiss his neck while sliding his thigh between yours. The pressure of his jean-clad leg against your core makes you whimper, grinding down on him.

Eventually, the pulling and grinding of each other makes your dress slip down, exposing your breasts just barely. Rei sees your nipples peeking from the top, and he dips his head down to kiss them. He licks at the pebbled skin, kissing around the sensitive nub. The sensation has you panting, soft moans escaping your mouth, making his cock twitch in his tight jeans. Rei sucks one of them between his lips gently and you grab a handful of his hair.

He pulls your dress down more and cups both of your tits, massaging them sweetly. He loves how soft you feel in his hands, and how you whimper each time he licks them. He isn’t thinking about how bad he might be at this anymore. All he can think of is how he’s making you feel good, and that makes his cock even harder.

“Rei,”

He snaps out of his trance when he hears your voice, worried he overstepped. He looks up at you.

“Take your shirt off,”

You both lean upright in bed and he quickly throws the blue hoodie off then begins pulling his old gaming T-shirt up over his head. He struggles a little, getting his arms caught awkwardly and you help him lift it off completely. Your laugh puts him at ease, a little smile appearing on his face just before he cups your face for another kiss.

The tent in his jeans is so glaringly obvious as he sits on his knees while kissing, hands trailing down to hold your tits again. It keeps poking between your legs each time he moves, and soon you realize he’s rutting his hips instinctively against you.

You pull him back down into the bed, kissing his scarred chest. Your lips lead all the way down to his belly button, his happy trail appearing just beneath his waistband. Rei’s breath hitches in his throat as you kiss along his waist, gently planting your lips across his skin. The warmth of your breath so close to his cock has him inhaling deeply. His needy breaths make your core ache even more, the slickness soaking your panties thoroughly.

You lean back while straddling him and pull your dress over the top of your head. Rei’s eyes trail down your body and land on your panties. They’re so sheer, letting him see your bush. His heart starts to race faster. There’s a small gossamer strand connected between your thighs, glistening in the sunlight.

“Do you want to take these off?” you drag your hand along his jeans as he nods, his own hands working to undo the stubborn button at his waist.

At the foot of the bed, you help shimmy his jeans down while he lifts his hips up, thinking maybe you’ll leave his boxers on for now, and keep easing into the moment with him. But Rei hooks his thumbs under the waistband and pulls them down too, letting his cock spring out of its confines.

You don’t shy away from the sight and take the time to admire him: his girth is perfect, laying against his abdomen, thick and hard. There’s a sheen on the tip of his cock, so shiny with his arousal.

Rei watches you stare at his cock, wondering what you could be thinking. A blush appears on his cheeks again, spreading to his ears. You slide your hands up his thighs, feeling how muscular he is, and how soft his leg hairs are. Standing back at the foot of the bed still, you tell him how good he looks.

“You look so sexy like this,” your voice laced with a playful lust.

He scoots closer to the edge of the bed towards you and wraps his arms around your waist. He kisses your tummy, thinking about how beautiful you are and how he can’t believe he gets to touch you.

“You're the sexy one, I can't believe you’re with me right now,” he says

As you run your fingers through his hair, he lifts his head and rests his chin on your stomach. His fingers start to slide under the strings of your panties. You help him, placing your hand over his as he pulls the lingerie down to your thighs. Your slick is sticky, clinging to the fabric as Rei watches.

You’re both completely naked now. Rei runs his hands up your legs, the curves of your ass, and up your sides, admiring you.

“Lay back down again,” you tell him.

Reluctantly letting you go, he scoots back and lays his head against the pillows. You crawl between his legs, pushing his thighs wider so you can nestle between them. Rei’s thoughts begin swirling in his head rapidly. Your face is inches from his cock, and it can’t help but pulse at the sight of your pretty face so close to it. He might cum right there.

“This will feel really good, if you’ll let me,” you say, your breath fanning across his erection.

You rest your cheek against his thigh.

“Can I touch it?”

“Yes,” his reply is husky, filled with anticipation of what’s to come.

Still resting your head, you take his cock in your hand, squeezing it gently as you slide your fingers up his shaft. You can feel him pulsing under your touch.

“Just relax, we have plenty of time,” you coo at him. Rei closes his eyes, bringing the back of his hand to his forehead. Maybe if he keeps his eyes closed, he can settle down. Seeing you stroking him between his legs, feeling your hair draped across his thigh is pushing him over the edge. He doesn’t want to finish too soon, especially since he hasn’t gotten to please you yet.

Lazily you stroke him, watching your fingers glide across the velvety skin of his cock, squeezing the tip to coax his precum out. Your index finger toys with the slit of his cockhead, spreading his arousal languidly. Rei moans softly and opens his eyes again to gaze at you. Smiling, you press your lips against his shaft and kiss him sweetly.

“Does this feel good to you?”

“Yes it does, it feels so damn good.”

You press his cock against your lips again, kissing and licking up from the base. At the tip, you take him into your mouth. Rei’s stomach flexes, and the sensation of your wet mouth on him makes his eyes glaze over. He’d imagined so many scenarios of this exact moment before, but nothing could compare to the actual feeling. The soft but firmness of your tongue encircling his cock. Or the sounds you make as you hold him in your mouth. Or the look in your eyes each time you gaze up at him. The thought of how willing you were to please him made his chest burn with desire and happiness.

Rei’s hands make their way to your face and brush the few strands back that keep falling. He can feel your chin pressing against his balls with each bob of your head, and the swirl of your tongue around his shaft. Rei’s mouth falls open as he gapes at your mouth, full of his cock.

“Wait—wait, slow down,” Rei brings your face off of him, your lips swollen and glistening. Something takes hold of him and he pulls you closer, kissing you deeply. He tastes the mixture of your tongue and himself, sweet and salty. It leaves him feeling dazed and pulls you to this side, slipping his hand down between your legs. He traces his fingers across your lips, spreading your slickness. Rei feels the urge to spread your lips apart and plunge his fingers into you. He knows this is something you’d probably like, but he hesitates. He presses his forehead to your temple, his breathing somewhat steady again:

“I wanna finger you,” he says slowly just before pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth. You giggle.

“Go ahead, I want you to.”

You place your hand over his own, atop your pussy, urging him to rub his fingers up and down your slick. Rei’s eyes dart down to watch, lips parted as he tries not to pant. You push one of his fingers down between your lips, and he can feel how much more wet you are at your entrance.

Rei works his finger into you, slowly, feeling the inside of your gummy walls. He slides it in and out curiously, listening to the sounds of your slick and the whimpers escaping your mouth. You’re so warm and wet…and slippery. His finger slips in effortlessly with each stroke. His mind wanders to how his cock would feel sliding into you, making it twitch against your thigh. Your hips buck into his hand at one particular swipe of his finger, hitting your spot just right.

“Does it feel good right there?” he asks breathily against your face. You whimper and nod, spreading your legs wider. Rei presses his palm down firmly to your clit and you sigh.

“Put another in, please,” you plead to him. Your skin feels so hot and sweat collects across your brow. His long, slender fingers seem to reach perfectly inside you. Rei does as you ask and slips his middle finger in. He shoves his face into your neck more and nips at your sensitive skin while curling his fingers inside you. Your moans become repetitive, telling him how good he’s doing. Rei’s hand works a bit faster, matching the speed of your moans. He wants you to cum so bad for him.

“Oh fuck, that feels so good–” you mewl. You slip your hand down to your pussy and begin rubbing tight circles on your clit. Rei looks down to watch, noticing your movements, trying to mentally take note.

“Go faster,” you tell him. Rei pumps his fingers in rapidly, but the angle of his wrist begins to hurt. He leans up beside you where he can thrust faster. He can feel your pussy tightening around his fingers, watching his ministrations, hand glistening from your slick.

You can feel a wave building up inside your core as Rei finger-fucks you for the first time. You're amazed at how quickly he caught on to what he was doing; how he watches you intently with each buck of your hips and tightening of your pussy. As he leans over your side you admire his lean arms as the muscles contract, the many scars scattered across his back, and the tiny moles dispersed along his back and hips. You're enamored by him.

“Mmmph–Im gonna cum,” your voice cracks as your orgasm approaches fast. Before another word can escape, you shake uncontrollably as it hits you. Rei watches how you shake; the way your skin ripples and hips gyrate upwards in awe. With his fingers still inside you, he feels you spasming, sucking them in further. Grabbing his arm tightly, you cling to him, digging your fingers into his skin.

“Come here,”

Rei climbs on top, careful not to put his entire weight on you. You reach down to his cock, still so hard and flushed a darker hue than the rest of his skin. You give him a few pumps before he reaches down too, dragging it across your still-sensitive bud.

“I want to fuck you so bad, can I?” he whispers.

You nod, and he begins pressing his cock against your folds, sliding between them and searching for your hole. He struggles, pushing in at awkward angles, and you caress his arms reassuringly. Rei’s blush appears again and he stutters.

“M’sorry, I–”

“Here, it's okay,”

You grab his cock and guide it, sliding it down until it catches your entrance. Smiling, you grab his face and as he pushes in gradually.

“You can move fast if you want, I like it,” you tell him between kisses. Rei sheaths himself completely in and you clench around him. You nip at his lips a little harder, trying to encourage him to let go of his inhibitions. He’s lost in the feeling of your tight pussy, feeling so connected to you, cradled inside. Below him, you're lost in ecstasy; so open to him, pleading with your eyes with parted lips. His hips begin rutting into yours instinctively.

You pull him down on top, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. Rei gives in, letting his full weight lay across you as your legs wrap around his hips, too. He doesn’t know he lasted this long up until this moment, but he’s never been more thankful.

The sun has set more by this time and the rays shining into the room are a deep orange. The room is filled with the sound of the creaking bed mixed with your moans. Rei’s panting picks up more; deep and gravelly, occasionally cracking from how good it feels to fuck you. He can't stop kissing you; always pressing his mouth to yours between his heavy breathing.

He can feel a tightening in his core, steadily rising as he continues thrusting deeply. He’s losing his composure, wrapping his arm around your head to hold you in place. The chanting of your voice, begging him to keep fucking you rings in his ears.

Before he can get the words out, he’s cumming in you, hard. His cock pulses as his hips rut erratically.

“Oh fffuck, fuck,” he whines into the pillow, still holding you tightly.

You hold him close still, keeping him inside you. His bangs are stuck to his forehead and the nape of his neck is drenched from his sweat, too. You kiss him, a few pecks to his panting mouth and he chuckles.

“Are you okay?” he asks. A silly question at this point you think, but endearing. You laugh while nodding.

You both lay in the messy bed together, trailing your hands across his chest, caressing his face as his eyes start to show that familiar sleepy look.

“That felt amazing…you felt amazing,” he says, breaking the silence. Grinning, you lay your head on his shoulder and he drapes his arm over yours.

“Good. I wanted this moment to be perfect for you.”

Rei pauses.

“Do you think I was good at it?”

You laugh by accident, snorting through your nose and Rei gives you a perplexed look.

“Um yes, I’m gonna say you were really damn good. I don’t think I can go very long without you now…”

Your hand snakes down his abdomen and playfully cups his balls, making him jolt. You both giggle at each other just before Rei kisses you deeply and pulls you on top of him.

#suwa rei x reader #suwa rei smut #cw virginity #rei suwa x reader #minors do not interact #cw losing virginity

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