Yeah Idk Given All The Leaks In The Past I Wouldnt Be Surprised If St5 Crew Was Making Up Fake Leaks

Yeah idk given all the leaks in the past i wouldnt be surprised if st5 crew was making up fake leaks to throw off the fandom cuz honestly i think i would too

But anyway.

❦︎  ꕀ　 never let go 𓈒　⁺

Original source unknown.

"Shoutout to all my baby girls: I see your comments, ladies, and they make me smile. I'm lurkin', and I'm stalkin', when you least expect it. But lately I've just been taking care of my business and getting my grind up; but I promise you: I'll be back to play and get my flirt on."

this is very 2014 / musically coded and i love it

Sweater Weather

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: "want to warm up?" he gestured to the hem of his sweater with a hint of concern in his eyes.

genre: fluff

word count: 1k

author's notes: i'm back with another spencer fic! i miss my baby and his fluffy sweaters so much i had to write about it. also posted on ao3 (spencereids).

THE BAU HUMMED WITH THE GENTLE WHOOSHING OF THE HARSH AIR CONDITIONER, THE FLUORESCENT LIGHTS CASTING A BRIGHT PALLOR OVER EVERYTHING. You huddled deeper into your thin knitted sweater, the thin material a weak attempt at shielding yourself against the bone-deep chill. You blame it on the current heat wave the Quantico area is facing these days . You would've opted for thicker clothing to adequately face the onslaught of the office's air conditioner, if not for the debilitating heat you'd suffer from once you've stepped foot outside of the building.

You sighed, climate change sucks ass.

Today was a slow day—or at least compared to your usual at the BAU—there was no new case. Thankfully. Maybe serial killers do know how to take breaks from time to time; unfortunately for federal agents, breaks were uncommon. If you weren't out chasing whatever criminal who spawned at the most random backwoods in the country, you were stuck at your desk poring through case files, the only sound competing with the monotonous drone of the ventilation system.

A sliver of envy pricked at you as you stole a glance at Spencer, perched on his chair like a Greek statue sculpted from focus. He seemed impervious to the cold in a yellow button-down and his thick-knitted maroon sweater. He was a beacon of warmth and comfort in his thick sweater as if to mock your lack of layers fending the chilliness in the BAU that could practically rival the iciness of the Arctic. Suddenly, a traitorous draft snaked down your spine, sending shivers cascading across your skin.

You rubbed your hands together, a futile attempt to generate some friction heat. A sigh threatened to escape your lips, but you bit it back, hoping the day wouldn't drag on much longer. You couldn't wait to get back home and bury yourself in your bed before you freeze to death at your desk or worse, get another call from Hotch saying you have a case sprouting out of nowhere.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Spencer shift. He flicked a glance your way, his gaze lingering on your clenched fists a beat too long. A question lurked in the quirked brow he offered.

"Cold?" he murmured, his voice barely audible over the rustling papers.

You offered a weak smile and sniffed, a single nod the only response you could muster.

Hesitation flickered across his face, then, in a move so swift it stole your breath, he patted the extra chair beside his. "Come here," he said softly.

Confusion battled the tinge of warmth that had started in your chest as you shuffled closer to your coworker. As you settled beside him, he leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Want to warm up?" He gestured to the hem of his sweater with a hint of concern in his eyes.

Understanding bloomed on your face, accompanied by a blush that crept up your neck.

"Oh," you mumbled. "I... I-um, are you sure, Spence? I mean, it's pretty cold here."

This was unorthodox , to say the least . But the thought of thawing your frozen fingers was undeniably appealing.

"I wouldn't want to impose on you..." You continued but were cut off.

Without missing a beat, Spencer lifted the edge of his sweater, creating a welcoming pocket before you could finish what you were sputtering about.

You bit your lip, then slowly reached out, your fingers disappearing into the soft wool. The sensation was like burrowing into a cloud, sun-warmed and comforting. A contented sigh escaped your lips as you wiggled your fingers, relishing the sudden relief. Instantly, you remembered you were currently clinging to Spencer like a baby koala and squeaked in embarrassment.

A soft chuckle rumbled in Spencer's chest, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. He continued to work, stealing occasional glances at your hands nestled beneath his sweater. A warmth bloomed in your chest that had nothing to do with temperature. It was as if time stopped between you and the man as you created your little bubble encompassing just you and Spencer; forgetting that it wasn't just the two of you in the room, but also the rest of your team.

Out of nowhere, Spencer began to murmur something that you could barely hear despite the proximity between you two, so you scuffled closer and leaned toward him. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I hope you're comfortable," Spencer mumbled, his voice barely a whisper above the rustling papers . A hint of pink dusted his cheeks, a telltale sign of his usual shyness.

You flashed him a warm smile. " Absolutely, Spence. Thanks for offering."

He dipped his head in a quick nod, then, after a moment's hesitation, surprised you with a question. "Did you know women tend to feel colder than men?

Intrigued, you hummed in response, enjoying the way his brow furrowed in concentration as he spoke.

There was a childlike eagerness in Spencer's voice whenever he delved into his knowledge. You knew it stemmed from a time in his life when conversation was scarce—too busy taking care of his mom and raising himself. You always encouraged him, finding his enthusiasm endearing. His voice, with its gentle cadence and thoughtful delivery, held a certain charm, or maybe it was just a crush, one you'd harbored since day one, but refused to admit it, for fear of being rejected.

"It's all about body composition and size," he explained, facts tumbling out in a rapid stream . "Women generally have less muscle mass, which generates heat. Plus, they have a higher percentage of body fat compared to men, about 6 to 11%. And being smaller means women have a larger surface area to volume ratio, leading to faster heat loss."

You feigned contemplation, nodding thoughtfully. A playful smile lit up your face, making a blush creep up Spencer's neck. "Well, then I guess I'm lucky to have you and your sweater, wouldn't you say?"

He stammered, his hand instinctively reaching to scratch his neck. A shy bob of his head was his only reply.

The room settled into a comfortable silence, the air thick with unspoken feelings. Lost in the warmth of shared space, the workday flew by unnoticed. As you gathered your things, your eyes met Spencer's. A shy smile played on his lips, and in that silent exchange, a secret bloomed amidst the usual hustle and bustle of the BAU.

The team, privy to your oblivious dance, exchanged knowing glances and muffled snickers. "Ah, young love," Rossi chuckled under his breath.