Spencer Reid X Autistic Reader - Tumblr Posts

OH OH OH how about a coffee shop/bookstore date like reader is new to town and Spencer decides to take them out to his favorite book shop and coffee shop (gn reader if possible:3)

Ways to Say "I Love You"

thank you so much for the request! I had a blast writing this

spencer reid x gn!reader (no use of y/n)

cw: nothing, just pure fluff

wordcount: 2.6k

You pace in circles around your living room, avoiding the boxes still piled up along the walls. You’ve been here two months already, but starting as a new professor and researcher at Georgetown has kept you so busy you simply haven’t had time to finish unpacking. You suppose you could do it now, a distraction would probably help your nerves, but you’d rather continue with your circles. 

You check your watch. You have six minutes until Spencer will be here. He always arrives exactly on time, never early or late if he can help it. You take a deep breath. “It’s just a date,” you whisper to yourself. “No expectations. Just have fun.” You know you will but your heart is beating so fast and hard that you can feel it in your chest. 

To be honest, you don’t know why you’re so nervous. You’ve known Spencer for years. You met at CalTech in your freshman year of undergrad while he was finishing up his third PhD and you’ve kept in touch through letters and occasional visits ever since. He even flew out to watch your thesis defense. 

You’ve loved Spencer for nearly as long as you’ve known him and the fact that he asked you out is like a dream come true but you can’t help but worry that he’ll realize he made a mistake.

A knock at the door startles you from your thoughts and you almost trip over a box. You glance down at your watch. It’s two o’clock exactly and you can’t help but wonder how long Spencer waited outside your apartment door before knocking. You take a deep breath and run your hands down the front of your shirt, smoothing down any wrinkles in the fabric, before making your way to the door.

You will your shaking hands to be still as you unlock the door and pull it inwards. Your jaw nearly drops at the sight of Spencer. He’s dressed how he usually is, looking as good as always, but he’s wearing his glasses and smiling softly at you, a nervous flush on his cheeks. He holds a bouquet of flowers in his right hand. The bouquet is made of three types of flowers. You recognize the sunflowers and daffodils, but not pale purple, pinwheel-like ones.

“Oh, Spencer, thank you!” you say, taking the bouquet as he hands it to you. You bury your nose in the flowers and smell them with a smile. “This is lovely! Come in while I put these in some water.”

You step aside and Spencer slips awkwardly into your apartment. 

“Ignore all the boxes,” you laugh. “I’ve been too busy to finish unpacking.”

He nods, looking around your apartment as he follows you into the kitchen. He seems twice as nervous as you are. 

“Can you hold this for me for a moment?” you ask, holding out the bouquet. He nods and takes it from your hands. You turn around and climb onto the counter to reach the empty vase you’d placed on top of the cabinets once the housewarming flowers your parents sent you had died. You slide off the counter and head over to the sink to rinse off any dust. 

You dry the outside of the vase with a dishtowel before filling it halfway with water. You set the vase on the small dining table pressed against the wall. “So, where are you planning on taking me?" you ask, taking the bouquet from Spencer and slipping it into the vase. 

“There’s a nice little bookstore and coffee shop right next door to each other not far from here. I was thinking we could go there if that’s alright.”

You smile at him, his obvious nervousness making yours fade. “That sounds great,” you say. “But first, now that our hands are free, can I give you a hug?”

Spencer nods and pulls you into a tight hug, resting his face in the crook of your neck. You’ve always loved his hugs, they make you feel safe and loved. And knowing that you could probably count on your hands the number of people Spencer feels comfortable hugging makes it feel that much more special.”

“I’ve missed you,” you whisper.

“We saw each other last week,” Spencer says, sounding confused.

You chuckle and end the hug. “I know, but it still feels like it’s been years.”

Spencer’s brow furrows. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I’m just saying that because we saw each other so rarely before I moved here I still feel like I haven’t spent enough time with you now that I am here. Like I need to make up for it. I can still miss you even if I’m close by,” you tease.

“Oh, then I missed you too.” 

You chuckle lightly and pat him on the shoulder. “Alright then, Spence, take me to that bookstore.”

________________

The walk wasn’t a long one and with the nice spring weather and catching up with Spencer, it almost felt like it went by too fast.

“This is it,” Spencer says, stopping in front of a cafe. 

You look at him confused. “I thought we were going to the bookstore first.”

“We are,” he says with a smile. He reaches his hand out toward yours and after a brief moment of hesitation, takes your hand in his. You can feel yourself blush and wonder if you're as flushed as Spencer. 

He guides you toward a small alleyway about three feet wide with a cat sleeping on a book painted on the ground and leads you down it. The alley curves to the right and then back to the left and at the end is a little courtyard and an old brick building. There are stacks of books on and under a wooden table at the side of the courtyard, shaded from the sun by an awning that extends from the wall of the neighboring building. Along the back of the cafe are three small tables with two chairs each and along the third side is a small garden filled with wildflowers native to the DC area. 

A large window covers the front wall of the book store and there’s a classy-looking decal of the same image on the alley floor a sign that says “Alleycat Books”. The view inside the store is mostly blocked by stacks of books but through the gaps, you can see shelves stretching along the walls from floor to ceiling and multiple shelves in the middle of the room, all filled to the brim with books.

You look around the courtyard in awe. 

“Spencer, this is amazing!”

He smiles at you, his nose scrunching up adorably. “I’m glad you like it. But the inside is even better.”

You laugh as he leads you to the door and opens it for you with an awkward little bow. He’s right, the inside is better. It looks almost magical. Floor-to-ceiling shelves cover every inch of the side and back walls. About fifteen feet away from you, halfway across the room, another floor-to-ceiling shelf with gaps on either side acts as a divider. Two rows of three shoulder-height shelves with gaps between each of them fill the ten-foot width of the room in front of the dividing shelf and based on the line of sight you have through the gaps of the divider, the same seems to be true on the other side. A woman greets us from a small desk in the corner as we enter and Spencer waves awkwardly at her as you nod your head in greeting. 

“The sci-fi section’s over here,” Spencer says, leading you to the back half of the room. “I know it’s your favorite genre.”

You laugh and nod, tilting your head to read the titles of the books. Spencer laughs softly as you start to tilt your whole body to read the names of the books on the lower shelves. 

“I’m going to look in the poetry section,” Spencer says. 

You nod in response, your upper body still tilted almost horizontal. You hear his footsteps retreat to the opposite side of the divider. You stand to see where he ended up and can’t help but laugh when you see his hair poking over the two rows of books on the divider. 

“What?” Spencer asks.

“Stand on your toes,” you say with a laugh. 

His head rises as he does what you say and you stand on your toes as well to see his eyes poking over the books.

“I can see you,” you tease.

“Yes.” You can hear his smile in his voice.

You laugh and return to browsing the books. Your gaze brushes over a copy of DUNE and you pull it from the shelf to look at the cover. “Spencer!” you call, running around to the other side of the shelf. He looks at you with raised eyebrows. You hold out the book. “There’s no sticker! I love this book and I’ve been trying to find a copy without the sticker for so long! I hate the stickers.”

“They do ruin the covers.”

“Well, that’s it. I just wanted to show you. I’m going to keep looking.” 

You both spend almost an hour looking around the store and by the time you’re both satisfied, you’ve found three books, including the copy of DUNE, and Spencer has read two collections of poetry and found a vintage copy of The Count of Monte Cristo.

Spencer tries to convince you to let him pay for your books and after a brief and silly argument, he relents to only paying for one of them. You make sure to pay first so he can’t try to tell the cashier to put all of your books on his card. He pouts slightly when as you pay, but you won’t let him guilt you into relenting. You smile and pat softly on the shoulder as he sets his book and the third of yours on the counter to pay.

Once he’s finished, he holds his messenger bag open and you slide the books inside. Ever the gentleman, he holds the door for you again on the way out. “What kind of stuff does the cafe have?” you ask as you lead the way through the alley back out to the street.

“They have hot chocolate, so that should make you happy,” Spencer says. You step out of the entrance and turn around to watch him emerge. “They have really good pastries too. And toast with butter and honey.”

“Hmm, I think I’ll get that and a hot chocolate.”

“The toast? You nod as he opens the door for you. “Okay, I’ll order while you grab us a table.”

You look around the room for the perfect spot as Spencer heads to the counter to get in line. There’s a small table for two in one of the corners by the window and you slip into one of the chairs to claim it. 

You can’t seem to take your eyes off Spencer as he waits. He’s just so beautiful. His hands clutch the strap of his messenger bag and you can see his fingers tapping slightly. When it’s his turn he shifts his weight from side to side as he orders. He’s never been able to keep still the entire time you’ve known him, but that’s just another thing you love about him. You smile and wave at him as he turns around and a flush lights up his face. He holds up a small stand with the number twelve on it and sets it on the table as he slides into the seat across from you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Spencer asks, embarrassed. His cheeks are still bright red.

“No reason,” you say. “You’re just pretty.”

Spencer’s face gets impossibly redder and he hides his head in his hands. “Y-you’re pretty too,” he mutters, his voice muffled behind his hands.

You reach across the table, gently grabbing his sleeves to tug his hands away. He stares at you with wide eyes. He opens his mouth to speak but before he can a waiter comes with the food and drinks and Spencer shuts his mouth again. 

You thank the waiter and Spencer mutters a thanks as well. You slide your hot chocolate and toast over to you and Spencer moves his coffee and croissant to his side of the table.

“What were you going to say before our food came?” you ask, spreading the butter and honey onto your toast.

Spencer’s blush, which had started to fade, comes back in full force. He lowers his eyes to his coffee as he tears open a couple of packets of sugar and dumps them in.

“That I’m really glad you’re here. In DC,” he says awkwardly, stirring the sugar into his coffee with a wooden stir stick. “I’ve missed being around you. And I like that you’re so close now.”

Your face heats and you know that you’re blushing now too. 

“I’m glad, too, Spencer,” you say softly. He raises his head to meet your eyes. “I really like being around you. And I’m really glad you asked me out. I’ve liked you for years and now that I’m here and we can actually see each other I would’ve done it if you hadn’t.”

Spencer smiles widely at you, his nose and eyes crinkling and his tongue poking out slightly between his teeth.

You and Spencer stay in the cafe long after you’ve finished your food and drinks, just talking about anything and everything. You tell him about your research and invite him to come to some of your lectures and he tells you about work and his team. Eventually, the conversation slows and you and Spencer walk back to your apartment in a comfortable silence only occasionally interrupted by Spencer voicing a thought because he knows you like to listen.

________________

Once back inside your apartment Spencer holds open his messenger bag so you can take out your books and set them on the dining table to put away later. 

Spencer gently runs his hand over the bouquet in the center of the table.

“Vinca minor,” he says softly, pointing at one of the purple flowers. “The lesser periwinkle or dwarf periwinkle. It’s a member of the dogbane family and is native to central and southern Europe and southwestern Asia. In the language of flowers, it means early and sincere friendship and tender memories.” He points at a daffodil. “Narcissus jonquilla. Commonly referred to as Jonquil or Rush daffodil. It’s native to Spain and Portugal and represents desire or returned affection. Helianthus annuus. The common sunflower, it’s native to the Americas and represents loyalty and adoration. But I mostly just included them because they’re your favorite.”

You can feel your cheeks warm with a blush and you smile big and wide at him, enough that your eyes close partially. “Spencer?” He looks up at you and you take a few steps forward until you’re right in front of him.

“Y-yeah?” he asks, stuttering slightly.

“Can I kiss you?”

His eyes widen and he nods. You reach up to cup his cheek and kiss him softly. It’s full of love and care and words that should have been said years ago but are finally being shared now. You pull away with a smile and chuckle as he chases after you slightly. You drape your arms around the back of his neck and look him in the eyes. “I love you too, Spencer.”

An Awkward, Yet Important, Conversation

summary: You have some fears surrounding sex, you and Spencer talk it out.

genre: fluff, very light angst and hurt/comfort

cw: suggestive 16+! talk about/discussion about sex (specifically blow jobs and prepping for pegging and/or anal sex), insecure reader, reader is worried about sex, understanding spencer, completely gn reader (reader is not described at all), no use of y/n, autistic!reader, reader has sensory issues, bi spencer (including mention of past spencer/ethan), autistic!spencer (because every spencer is autistic!spencer)

wordcount: 1.4k

You stand in the corner of Spencer’s living room, wringing your hands together and slowly and gently rocking back onto your heels, as he putters around putting away papers and books. Your throat feels clogged and you suck your upper lip between your teeth. You curl your fingers at the first and second knuckles and shake your arms back and forth, gently knocking the side of your hands into your chest. You feel some of the anxious energy in your body dissipate.

Spencer taps his fingers against the spine of the book he just reshelved.

“Ca-can we talk about something?” you ask, your voice slightly shaky with nerves.

Spencer turns to look at you and gives you a reassuring smile but you can tell your question has made him a little nervous with the way he tugs on his pinkie finger. “Of course,” he says gently. He makes his way over to the couch and sits down on it, he picks at the edge of the blanket draped over one of the arms. 

You clench and unclench your fingers and shake your hands out before joining him on the couch. You sit down and quickly realize that the normally comfortable couch is too soft for this conversation and you rise again to your feet and start pacing in circles around Spencer’s coffee table.

Spencer calls your name gently and you stop pacing to look at him.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly. “Did something happen?”

You nod then shake your head and realizing how that could be confusing you say, “Nothing happened. And-and I’m alright. Just nervous.”

“About what you want to talk about?”

You nod and continue your circles. “It’s nothing bad. It actually has the potential to be something good. It just–“ You sigh. “I don’t want you to take it the wrong way.”

Spencer doesn’t say anything. You glance over at him and stop walking when you notice him chewing on the inside of his cheek and rubbing his hands together. 

“Spencer?” you ask softly, feeling a bit concerned.

“You’re not, um, you’re not breaking up with me, right?” he asks weakly.

Your eyes widen and you shake your head. “No! No,” you insist. “No, I love you, Spence. I definitely don’t want to break up with you. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Spencer smiles with relief and you can see the way his body relaxes. His cheek pops out from between his teeth and his hands return to picking at the blanket. “I love you too. I’m glad you don’t want to break up,” he says with a slight chuckle.

You can’t help but huff a laugh in response.

“Yeah.” You flap your hands at your sides and turn your head to the side to stare at the wall. You’ve always found it easier to start difficult conversations when you’re not looking at the person. “I, um, I want to talk about sex.”

“Okay,” Spencer replies. You can hear the confusion in his voice. 

“I want to have sex with you,” you state.

“I want to have sex with you too.”

“Not right now.”

“Of course.”

“I know you’ve had sex before. With both men and women,” you say. You swallow hard and hesitate for a moment before starting to walk around the table again to relieve your anxiety. “And you know I haven’t. Or at least not penetrative sex.”

Spencer nods. “Is that something you’re worried about?”

You shrug. “Kind of. But not really. It isn’t the act of penetrative sex itself that worries me. It’s sensory stuff.”

“Ahh,” Spencer says, understandingly. 

You nod and stop to look at him.

“Are you worried sex will be overstimulating?” he asks.

Your face contorts as you try to come up with the most accurate response. “Yes and no. I’m not worried about being overstimulated by sex. It’s—“ You sigh and hum in frustration, gently thumping your hand against your chest. 

Spencer waits patiently for you to continue and it puts you at ease. You know he holds no expectations for you and isn’t judging you.

“It feels weird to say,” you admit.

Spencer nods. “That’s okay. You know I don’t mind weird.”

You chuckle. “Yeah. You’re dating me.”

Spencer laughs and the sound makes you smile. “I was mostly referring to the fact that I’m weird,” he jokes. “But you do have a point.”

You stick out your tongue at him with a smile. You take a deep breath and say. “I’m worried about giving blow jobs and prepping you.”

Spencer’s eyebrows raise at the sudden shift back to the conversation. 

“I want to give you blow jobs and I want to fuck you. But— and I really hope you don’t take this as something personal, it’s not you, I don’t think you or your body is—“ You cut yourself off with a deep breath and close your eyes to try to recenter yourself in the conversation. “I’ve tried giving a blow job before and didn’t enjoy it because of the taste. I know it’s natural, but it’s just one of those things I can’t handle, at least not currently.”

“That’s okay,” Spencer says kindly.

“But I really like the idea of sucking you off. It’s definitely something I want to do.”

“I'll just wear a condom then. It’s no big deal. I understand. You sucking me off is also something I want to experience but only if you’re enjoying yourself too.”

You feel your face warm with embarrassment, and you hide your head in your hands. Spencer laughs sweetly at your reaction.

“I think I know what your other concern is. Would you like me to guess, or would you prefer to say it?”

“Can you guess?” you ask, your voice muffled by your hands.

“My guess is you’re concerned about fecal matter when fingering me.”

You lower your hands and nod.

“That’s another easily solved problem. Whenever you fuck me, I will have cleaned myself beforehand, and we can also get you some nitrile gloves to wear. That’s what I did when I was dating Ethan in college. Before long, me just putting on a pair of gloves drove him crazy.”

You can’t help but laugh. You pat Spencer on the knee and try to sit back down on the couch. Now that the hard part of the conversation is done, the couch is back to being comfortable. 

Spencer holds out his arm and you tuck yourself beneath it, curling up against his chest and playing with his fingers. 

“I’m glad you understand,” you whisper. “I was worried that you’d take it the wrong way. That you’d think I that I think you’re gross or unclean when I don’t.”

Spencer presses a kiss to your hair. You tilt your head back and he presses the next kiss upside down on your lips. You giggle, smiling into the kiss.

Spencer pulls away and kisses your forehead. “I know you don’t think that. And I know you never would,” Spencer affirms. “I’m glad you told me. I want you to be as comfortable as possible when we have sex. And if condoms and gloves make that possible, I’m happy to use them.”

“You’re not worried about it feeling different?” you ask, looking up at him nervously.

“Not at all. I think a lot of people, guys especially, exaggerate the difference. There is a difference, but I don’t really notice much of one outside of how wet things feel, but that’s something that doesn’t mean much to me. I’ve, um, I’ve always been quite sensitive, and wearing condoms or using gloves doesn’t really do anything to affect that. I’ll enjoy it just as much because it’s you I’m having sex with.”

Your face grows hot again and you turn to bury it in Spencer’s chest with embarrassment. You both feel and hear when he laughs.

“Why are you embarrassed?” he teases. “I’m the one who just admitted to being super sensitive.”

You pull your face back and reach a hand up to cup his cheek and kiss him gently before resting your forehead against his, your noses pressed together. “You’re just really sweet,” you mutter. “And I’m glad you understand.

Spencer smiles and tilts his head forward to catch your lips in another kiss. “Always,” he whispers.

_____

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First Meeting

summary: You're having difficulty with some code so you stop by Penelope's house for help, unaware that she has a guest. Spencer takes one look at you and is immediately head over heels.

genre: fluff

cw: meet cute (is it a meet cute?) completely gn!reader (reader is not described at all), no use of y/n, autistic!spencer (because every spencer is autistic!spencer), season 1 spencer, university/college student reader, talk about research and coding, pov switch from reader to spencer

wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: this is an actual error I had this summer when writing my spectra analysis code

You lean back in your chair with a sigh, scowling at the code you’re trying to write. You’re still relatively new to coding, the first time you ever took a class on it was just under two years ago, so this code has taken you significantly more time to write than it would have taken Penelope. But you’ve written it. You read through the code again and rerun it. Everything runs fine, the code should work, but it doesn’t. 

You rub your eyes and groan with frustration. You should be able to get a wavelength solution out of this. The professor you’re doing research with told you what you need to do to get the wavelength solution and then how to use it to find the redshift of the lensed galaxy and the foreground lensing galaxy, but nothing is lining up!

You’ve opened the data, plotted the variation in flux for each line in the image, fit a Gaussian to it to get the brightest point, and converted the pixel value of that point to vacuum wavelength, but none of the wavelengths you’re finding match up with what lines should be present in the spectra for this lamp type!

You briefly consider emailing your professor but decide against it. Even though he told you that asking things wouldn’t bother him and that it’s his job, you don’t want to take up more of this time than you already have. 

You look around your apartment for anything that might help. Your eyes land on your keychain and the spare key Penelope gave you because she enjoys it when you stop by. You quickly shut your laptop, tucking it under your arm, grab your keys, slip on a pair of shoes, and make your way down the hall to Penelope’s apartment, not bothering to lock the door behind you. 

_____

Spencer sits awkwardly on one of Garcia’s kitchen stools, tapping his fingers on the Tardis mug she had filled with tea and given him. He’s not exactly sure why Garcia invited him over. She said she wanted to bond, but they’ve known each other for almost two years now, and Spencer considers her a good friend, so he doesn’t really know what bonding entails. So far, Garcia has just been bustling around her kitchen preparing snacks and drinks for their Doctor Who marathon.

The lock clicks and Spencer’s head whips toward the door just in time for it to burst open. Spencer freezes and stares at you in awe and confusion. 

“Penny!” you cry, your voice a mixture of a shout and a whine. 

Garcia calls your name with a surprised look. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“What?” you ask. Then you wave your hand flippantly. “Yeah I’m fine, I just need help with some code.” Your eyes land on Spencer and he can feel his heart rate increase. He really hopes his face isn’t as red as it feels. 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you had someone over,” you say. “I can, um, I can come back later.”

Spencer watches as your posture stiffens slightly and you start to fiddle with your keychain. 

Spencer opens his mouth to reassure you but Garcia beats him to it. “No, no, it’s fine,” she says. “I’ve been wanting you two to meet anyway.” You shoot Spencer a small, awkward smile and wave from across the room when Garcia shares your name. When she introduces him, your eyes widen and you look toward Garcia with an expression Spencer can’t decipher and whisper something to her that makes her laugh loudly. 

Spencer can feel himself flushing at your reaction and takes a sip of his tea to hide his face.

“Anyway!” Garcia says cheerfully. “Do you mind if I help them real quick?”

“Go ahead,” Spencer responds, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. It’s difficult with you there, though, all his thoughts suddenly seem much harder to grasp. Like your presence is forcing them aside. 

Your eyes seem to linger on him for a moment before you head over to the counter and set your laptop down. “Right,” you mutter, opening it and entering the password. Spencer listens intently as you describe to Garcia what your code should be doing and he can’t help but smile at the clear passion in your voice. It sends butterflies to his stomach. 

“What do you study?” Spencer blurts out. 

You close your mouth and cock your head at him for a moment. “I’m, uh, I’m studying astrophysics. Specifically strong gravitational lensing. I’ve already made preliminary models of the system and I’m just working on analyzing the spectra now.”

Spencer nods and leans over to look at your code. 

“Do you want to help Penny find the issue?” you ask. You sound a bit nervous and Spencer looks up and smiles what he hopes is a soothing smile.

“I would if I could. I really don’t know how to code, though.”

“Seriously?” you ask. Spencer cocks his head at the tone of surprise in your voice. “Sorry, it’s just that Penny has told me a lot about you and about how you’re a genius and have three PhDs, which is insanely impressive by the way, so I guess I’m just surprised you don’t know something.”

“There’s a lot I don’t know,” Spencer admits. “Coding and other technological things are some of it. I don’t know too much about astrophysics either.” That’s not exactly true but it isn’t a lie either. He’s read papers on several astrophysical topics but he’s never come across one on strong lensing before. But the truth of the statement is irrelevant, the only reason he said it was to find an excuse to spend more time with you.

You smile and Spencer’s stomach feels like it does a backflip. “I won’t be much help teaching you how to code, Penny would be better for that, but I can tell you about some astro stuff at some point.”

“Alright, lovebirds,” Garcia teases and Spencer’s face burns. “Let’s focus.” You nod, clearly also a bit embarrassed, and turn back to your laptop.

“How about I go line by line and tell you what it should do and you let me know if something doesn’t do what I think it does,” you say. Garcia nods and both she and Spencer follow along as you point to and describe each line of code. You get to a printed image of the data file you’re analyzing before Garcia stops you.

“Can you open the file on your computer?” she asks.

You nod and open the file in a new application and move it so it’s side by side with the image in your code. “Wait,” you mutter, glancing back and forth between the two images. “Is that seriously the issue?” Spencer leans forward to get a closer look, the x-axes of the images are flipped. 

You throw your head back with a groan and change the rotation of the file in your code. “I swear, if this works,” you growl. The clear exasperation in your tone makes Spencer chuckle slightly. 

You rerun the code and compare several of the outputs to a list of wavelengths before groaning again and letting your head fall onto the counter. “I hate Python,” you grumble. “Why does it have to switch the axes!” 

Garcia laughs and pats you on the back. You raise your head off the counter and tap your forehead against her shoulder in a gesture Spencer assumes expresses gratitude. “Thanks, Penny,” you sigh. “You’re the best.”

“Of course I am!”

“Oh, and Spencer,” you say, turning to look at him. “We should get lunch sometime. I can tell you about astrophysics and you can tell me about all the crazy things you know.”

“I-I would love that,” Spencer stutters, unable to speak clearly with you looking into his eyes. He's hardly able to wrap his head around the fact that someone as beautiful as you would want to spend more time with him. Spencer's not sure whether you’re asking him on a date or just to go out as friends, but he doesn’t care either way as long as he gets to spend more time with you.

“Great!” you say happily. You stand and cross the room to quickly grab one of Garcia’s pens before returning. You hold the fluffy pink pen with a smile on your face and hold out your hand to his. “May I?” you ask. 

Spencer’s eyes widen and he nods, setting his hand in yours despite his usual aversion to touch. The contact makes his heart feel like it’s about to burst from his chest. You scrawl your number across the back of his hand before handing Spencer the pen and holding out your hand for him to do the same. He writes his number on your hand and watches in a sort of daze as you gather your computer and keys and wave goodbye before leaving.

Spencer jumps slightly as Garcia ruffles his hair. He looks over at her to see a knowing smile on her face. Spencer blushes and hides his face in his hands. “Shut up,” he grumbles, embarrassed.

“No way,” she laughs. “Derek’s going to have a field day with this. Boy genius has a crush!”

_____

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could you possibly write a smut where its spencer and autistic!f!reader’s first time? reader has a hard time relaxing and being present in their body, and is really nervous but spence is so gentle and understanding and they take it slow. it’s so mushy and tender it’s almost sick how in love those idiots are!!!!

First Time

Here you go!!! I had a lot of fun writing this one haha

genre: fluff and smut

cw: 18+ mdni! kinda fem! kinda gn!reader (reader's gender is not specified but is described as having afab anatomy, including having breasts and wearing bra), nervous reader, first times, crying during sex, fingering (r!receiving), protected p in v sex, no use of y/n, autistic!reader, autistic!spencer (because every spencer is autistic!spencer), cuddling, they're just so in love

wordcount: 2.2k

Your whole body feels fuzzy. Not in a bad way. It’s just weird. 

“Hey, come back to me,” Spencer mutters, cupping your face and rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

“Hmm?” You blink a couple of times and focus your attention back on him. You’re both sitting on the edge of your bed, Spencer had suggested that the familiar location might help you feel less nervous. You’re both still fully clothed.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want you,” Spencer says softly. He shifts away slightly and lowers his hand like he’s trying to give you the space to tell him what you’re thinking.

“No, I—I want to,” you insist. You lower your gaze to your lap and run your hands over your thighs, picking at the hem of your shorts. “I’m just—“ You pause for a moment trying to find the best way to describe your feelings. “I think I’m nervous. Yes. I’m nervous.” You look back up at him to gauge his reaction.

Spencer smiles sweetly at you and holds out his hand. You take it and squeeze. He squeezes back and you feel more settled in your body, more at ease. “Nervous is okay,” he says. “Nervous is normal. But I don’t want you to make yourself feel bad for my sake.”

You shake your head and smile at him in a way you hope is reassuring. “I’m not. I don’t feel bad. Just fuzzy. Nervous fuzzy.”

Spencer chuckles. “I love you, you know that?”

Your smile grows and you nod. “I love you too.”

Spencer’s eyes dart from your own to your lips. “Can I kiss you again?”

You nod and climb farther onto the bed, pressing your free hand to the back of his neck and pulling him toward you. The kiss is soft and sweet and you’re both smiling into it in a way that makes your teeth knock together every so often. 

Spencer rests the hand not holding yours on your hip and gently, leaving you room not to follow, pulls you into his lap. You can feel how hard he is beneath you and your whole body feels like it’s on fire. The kiss increases in intensity and you remove your hand from his to curl it into his hair.

Spencer gasps weakly into your mouth and brings his other hand to your hip as well. He toys with the hem of your shirt, his fingertips brushing lightly against the skin of your waist and stomach in a way that would otherwise be ticklish but right now just electricity shooting through your body.

He pulls away, panting heavily. “C-can I take your shirt off, honey?”

The fuzziness returns and you pause for a moment before nodding. “Only if yours comes off too.”

Spencer smiles and presses a brief kiss to your lips. “Of course.”

His hands slip under your shirt and he slowly starts to push it up. His hands leave trails of heat that shoot straight between your legs as they glide up across your body. The feeling is so wonderful and overwhelming you have to brace your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. His hands glide over your chest and you can’t help but arch into his touch.

He chuckles and passes his thumbs over your nipples a couple of times through your bra until your head bows forward and you’re gasping. 

He finally pulls the shirt over your head and guides it off of your arms before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss right below your ear. “So sensitive,” he whispers, unclasping your bra and carefully removing it, discarding it along with your shirt. 

You nod, too overwhelmed to respond in any other way. You tug on his shirt in a way that makes Spencer laugh, and he quickly removes it. You take in his bare chest for a moment, running your hands up and down it. He’s beautiful. You’ve seen him shirtless before but this feels completely different. 

“You’re so pretty,” you mutter.

Spencer smiles and softly says. “Thank you, baby. So are you.” He leans in to kiss you again with a soft intensity, gently cupping the back of your head. As you kiss, he slowly guides you down until you’re lying on the bed with your head resting on the pillows and he’s kneeling between your legs, propping himself up on one arm.

He breaks the kiss and your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest as you look up at him. And heat pools between your legs when you glance down and notice how hard he is. 

His hands slowly glide down your sides until they reach the hem of your shorts and suddenly the fuzzy feeling is back. Spencer cocks his head slightly and rubs gentle circles into your hips. “You okay?” he asks softly.

You nod, but there must be some expression on your face because Spencer asks, “Nervous?”

You feel your cheeks warm in embarrassment. You nod and mutter a quick, “Sorry.”

“Hey, hey, there’s nothing to be sorry about, okay?” Spencer says. “Nothing at all. Being nervous is completely normal. And everything we do is at your pace. I just want you to feel good.”

You nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Spencer lifts a hand from your hip to cup your face. “We really don’t have to do this. We can stop here. I won’t be upset.”

You shake your head. “I want to keep going. I–I want to feel you.”

A little groan escapes Spencer’s lips. “Fuck, baby, you can’t just say that. You’re going to drive me crazy.”

You bring your hands up to grip his waist with a laugh. “Isn’t that my job?”

Spencer leans down to press a kiss to the valley between your breasts, making you gasp. “And you’re very good at it.”

He slowly kisses lower and lower as you writhe beneath him until he reaches your shorts. He carefully hooks his fingers under the waistband and looks up at you in a way that sends heat pooling between your legs and you realize you desperately want him to touch you. “Can I take these off?” he asks softly.

You nod frantically and lift your hips with an eagerness that makes Spencer chuckle. 

“Just shorts? Or shorts and underwear?”

“B–both, please,” you gasp.

Spencer smiles and moves from between your legs to sit beside you and slowly slides your shorts and underwear off. He tosses them to the side and, gripping your upper thigh with one hand, presses a series of gentle kisses to your stomach and hips that make you squirm and pant. Your hands shoot up to curl into his hair and you can feel your arousal sticking to your thighs. “You’re so beautiful,” he mutters between kisses. “I’m so lucky I get to see you like this. I’m so lucky.”

His kisses move slightly lower and his hand slightly higher and you moan, your hips bucking involuntarily. 

“Sp–Spencer,” you gasp and he pulls away with a smile.

“Yes?”

“Pl–please. Wa-wanna feel you.”

He moves up to press a brief kiss to your lips and pulls a condom from his pocket before pushing his pants and boxers down his legs with one motion and kicking them aside. You can’t help but stare at his cock as he rolls the condom onto it. He’s what you assume is an average size for his height but you can’t help the nervousness that starts to make a reappearance. That’s going to go inside you? 

“Spence–” you start, though you’re unsure of what to say.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says kindly as he climbs back between your legs, sensing your anxiety. “I know it can be intimidating, but don’t worry, I’m not going to just put it inside you, alright?”

You nod, feeling relieved and still a bit nervous, but incredibly turned on.

“Can I touch you, sweetheart? Spencer whispers, his hands mere inches away from where you want him.

You nod again and then a moan rips from your chest as Spencer’s thumb presses against your clit and starts to rub gentle circles into it. Your whole body feels fuzzy again but you’re not nervous anymore, you feel amazing. It’s like the pleasure is frying your brain.

You gasp and moan as Spencer’s thumb works over your clit. His other hand presses a gentle and grounding grip into your thigh that somehow heightens the pleasure you’re feeling. With the hand on your thigh, he guides your legs apart and the movement of his thumb stops. You whine in disappointment at the loss of sensation but then you feel the tip of his finger pressing ever so slightly inside of you. Your eyes slip shut from the pleasure and you moan loudly.

“This okay?” Spencer asks, his arousal apparent in his voice. 

You nod without opening your eyes and Spencer’s finger slips the rest of the way inside of you. It’s a strange but wonderful sensation that has you gasping for air between moans. His finger curls slightly, pressing against different spots inside of you, and then suddenly a wave of pleasure slams into you, making you cry out. 

“There it is,” Spencer mutters to himself, pressing his finger into that spot over and over again. You’re so overwhelmed with pleasure you barely notice when he slips a second and then a third finger inside of you. 

But then his fingers are pulling out of you and you whine in disapproval. You open your eyes and stare up at him with a pout.

“Shh, i-it’s okay, baby,” he murmurs, his voice cracking slightly with pleasure as he gently strokes his cock. “You think you’re ready?”

You nod frantically, desperate to feel him inside of you, and hold out your hand. Spencer smiles at you and laces his fingers into yours before lining himself up and gently pressing inside of you with a moan.

Though you expected it, you still gasp at the sudden and ever so slightly painful stretch, and grip Spencer’s hand tightly. He pauses only halfway inside of you to allow you time to adjust. It doesn’t take long for you to get used to the sensation and you wrap your legs around Spencer’s waist and pull him closer until he’s all the way inside you.

Spencer’s head hangs forward as he pants and you admire just how beautiful he looks like this. 

“C-can I move?” he gasps weakly.

You nod and Spencer pulls his hips back slightly before rocking them back forward.

You moan in tandem at the feeling and your eyes slip shut. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced and he isn’t even hitting that spot he’d found with his fingers. With every thrust of his hips, Spencer adjusts the angle until he’s once again hitting that spot that makes you see stars. Each movement of his hips has you gasping and writing and you feel an overwhelming surge of emotions and a desire to be even closer.

You wrap your free arm around Spencer’s back and pull him down until his chest is pressed against yours, with his head buried in your neck, and you’re both holding each other. The pressure of his body against yours is soothing and grounding and helps you feel present in the amazing sensations your body is experiencing that might otherwise be overwhelming. 

Spencer gasps your name and “I love you” between moans and you cling to him as you moan in response, unable to form words. Heat climbs up your spine and you can feel yourself getting close. Tears well in your eyes and start to slip down your face but you can’t bring yourself to care because you just feel so good and so loved. The heat rises to your neck and burns in your stomach and you cum with a cry.

Spencer talks you through it but you’re too overwhelmed with pleasure to understand him. He thrusts a few more times before stilling with a moan of your name as he cums into the condom. His body goes limp against yours for a moment and the only movement is the rise and fall of both of your chests. Spencer slowly pulls out and the strange feeling makes you whine and causes more tears to slip unbidden from your eyes. He removes his hand from yours and you can hear him moving but then he goes still and whispers your name with clear concern.

You open your eyes and look at him to see a scared and almost horrified look on his face.

He reaches up with one hand, setting the tied-off condom aside with the other, and cups your cheek. He wipes away a tear with his thumb. 

“A-are you alright? Di-did I hurt you?” he asks gently. He looks so worried.

You immediately shake your head. “Good tears,” you mutter. “Happy tears.”

“Oh, thank God,” Spencer whispers, letting out a relieved sigh. He lies down beside you and pulls you into his chest, pressing a brief kiss to your head. “You worried me there for a second.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You smile and turn your head to look at him. You cup the back of his head and kiss him softly. “I’m very okay,” you mutter against his lips. 

Spencer kisses you back for a moment before pulling away and pressing his forehead against yours. 

“That was amazing,” you whisper. “I love you.”

Spencer smiles. “I love you too.”

_____

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

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@daryls-crossbow16 @roboticsuccubus83 @nemobee777 @kittensandkrows @dorcas4meadowes @spenciesslut @Idfk17 @pleasantwitchgarden @angeliccss @novaana @moonysreid @cynbx @i-live-in-spite @dead-universe @starlighta @ilyremuslupin @mylove4lana @greyslover3004 @written-in-the-stars @readerbitch123 @khxna

MORE AUTISTIC FEM! READER X SPENCER PLEASEEEE maybe her getting overstimulated at a bar with the team? or at the store? i neeeeddddd more of them!!

Bad Time at the Bar

here you go!! tho it's gn!reader bc gender didn't really come up, hope you don't mind!

genre: hurt/comfort

cw: autistic!reader, explicitly autistic spencer reid, overstimulation (and not the fun kind), meltdown (which reads a lot like a panic attack bc that's what my meltdowns are like), kinda self harm (hitting) and chewing lip until bleeding), internalized ableism and autism viewed in a negative light (spencer talks to reader about it and provides reassurance), completely gn!reader (reader is not described at all)

wordcount: 1.3k

There are too many people. The smell of sweat and alcohol hangs heavy in the air and burns your nose. The room is saturated with noise. Drinks clinking on tables, music playing, people talking. Your head pounds and you regret not bringing your headphones. You thought you’d be fine. You’ve never needed them when at the bar with the team in the past. Someone bumps into you and the unexpected contact causes panic to build in your chest. There’s not enough room. Everything feels like it’s closing in on you.

You suck in a breath through your teeth, gripping your bottle of beer so hard you’re surprised the glass doesn’t shatter. You chew on the inside of your lip until you taste blood, but it does nothing to soothe your quickly growing panic. 

You look around frantically, your eyes so wide you feel like they’re about to burst from your skull. Finally, you spot Spencer. He’s gathered around a table with Derek and some strangers, talking animatedly about something. You stagger forward, nearly tripping over your own feet as you try to reach him. People slam into your shoulders and chest and you can feel the burn of tears welling in your eyes. The tears cause the already painfully bright lights to reflect directly into your eyes so you blink hard and wipe them away.

Your whole body shakes and you desperately want to raise your hands to cover your ears but you’re still holding your drink and there’s not enough room and it’s embarrassing. You can feel your heart pounding throughout your body and your limbs feel like they’re going numb.

By some miracle, you manage to reach Spencer. You stumble toward him, reaching out and clinging to his arm. He startles and turns to look at you. Immediately, concern rushes over his face and he takes your drink and passes it to Derek before gently grabbing your hand. As quickly as he’s able, Spencer guides you through the bar toward an exit, using his own body to force people aside and away from you despite his dislike of germs. 

He holds open the back door and you practically fall into the alley. The door closes and immediately the smells, lights, and sounds lessen. You sink to the ground, pressing your hands against your ears now that there is no one but Spencer to see you. You curl your knees to your chest and stare with wide eyes at the ground. Each breath you take is a rasping, heaving mess, and a distressed groan forces itself from your throat with each exhale.

You feel like you’re dying.

Spencer crouches down beside you, sitting with his legs crossed and leaning against the wall, and you immediately press your body into his. You curl your legs beneath you and lean awkwardly in a way that hunches your back and presses your forehead into his knee. You squeeze your eyes shut and you can feel the way your tears soak his pants.

Spencer drapes himself over your back, using his body to provide the grounding pressure he’s learned you need in times like this. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes tightly. You let out a broken sob and slam the heel of your palm into the side of your head.

“Hey, hey,” Spencer mutters, gently taking a hold of your wrist. 

You shake your head. You need to hit. You need it. And there’s no way to redirect.

Spencer releases your hand and you move it to thump it against your chest.

“Okay, that’s better than your head,” Spencer says to himself. He squeezes your body in intervals and the varying pressure helps ground you. Slowly your sobs lessen to sniffles and hiccuping breaths and the hand hitting your chest falls limp against Spencer’s leg. 

“You’re okay,” Spencer mutters, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “You’re going to be alright.”

You sniffle and move your head to press it against his stomach. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says softly. You can hear the love and care in his voice. “You feeling a bit better?”

You hum and nod against him.

“Do you need some more time, or do you want to go home?” he asks, keeping his body pressing against yours in case you still need the pressure.

You tap his leg twice.

“Home?” he asks sweetly.

You nod, and Spencer sits back. The sudden lack of pressure makes your body feel weird, and part of you wants to drag him back down. You decide against it, knowing that you’ll get used to it quickly and that Spencer will hold you again when you get home.

Spencer carefully guides you to your feet and, keeping an arm wrapped around you, leads you out of the alley and down the street to his car. He opens the passenger side door and you climb in. 

“Will you be okay for a minute or two while I run back in to grab our stuff from JJ?” Spencer asks.

You nod and do your best to smile at him. Spencer smiles back and closes the door. He locks the car and jogs back toward the bar. 

You sigh and wrap your hands around your stomach. Guilt and embarrassment coil painfully in your chest. You can’t believe that just happened. You should have been fine. Why this time? Why the one time you didn’t bring your headphones? You groan in frustration. Why couldn’t you just be normal? And Spencer. You feel so guilty for dragging him away from the rest of the team and the fun he was having to deal with you.

There’s a soft click as the doors unlock, then Spencer opens the driver's side door and climbs inside. You keep your head bowed as he closes the door and reaches into the backseat to set down both of your stuff. 

You see him still out of the corner of your eye, and he rests his hand gently on your shoulder. “Hey, what’s going on?” he asks.

“I–I’m sorry,” you mutter weakly.

“For what, sweetheart?”

“For this! For everything!” you cry. “You–you were having fun and I ruined it! You shouldn’t have to deal with this!”

Spencer says your name softly and, when you don’t respond, he whispers, “Please look at me.”

You slowly raise your head, wiping away the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I don’t care what it is I’m doing, if you’re upset or need help, I will always drop everything to be there for you. And it’s not ‘dealing with you’, baby. We’re partners. It’s our job to take care of each other. You can’t control when you get overstimulated or have a meltdown.”

“But I could have!” you insist. “I didn’t bring my headphones because I thought I’d be fine like every other time and then I wasn’t! It’s my fault I freaked out like this. I should be able to handle it.”

“There is no ‘should’. Having a meltdown will never be your fault. And I know you know that, because you would never think these things about me when I have a meltdown.”

Your jaw drops. “Of-of course not!” you stutter, taken aback.

“Then why is it different for you?” Spencer asks. “Why is your autism bad but mine isn’t?”

You open and close your mouth for a moment, unsure of what to say.

Spencer doesn’t speak.

“I–I don’t know,” you eventually admit.

“It’s because it isn’t bad. I understand why you might feel that way or why you feel guilty about making me deal with it, as you say. But I help you because I love you and care about you and because I want to. Just like you help me because you love and care about me and want you. And I will always choose to help you and be there for you, no matter what, no matter how ashamed you may feel. Okay?”

Your chin wobbles, and soon tears are streaming down your face as you let out a wailing sob.

Spencer leans over the armrest to hug you, neither of you caring about the awkward angle. 

You pull back and wipe at your eyes. “C-can we go home, now?” you ask weakly.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Spencer says kindly.

“And then cuddles?”

“Always.”

_____

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