Spencer Reid X Male!reader - Tumblr Posts

What if?

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

genre: angst and fluff, hurt/comfort

cw: suggestive 16+! talk about/discussion about sex, insecure reader, reader is afraid of sex, understanding spencer, completely gn reader (reader is not described at all), no use of y/n, reader takes unspecified medication (implied to be an SSRI), bi spencer, autistic!spencer (because every spencer is autistic!spencer)

wordcount: 2k

note: venting in the form of a fic? who me? anyway, this is for everyone who, like me, is scared of having sex for the first time and wants someone to comfort them and ease their fears. you are not the only one out there.

Spencer’s hands slide from your cheeks to your waist, gripping you firmly yet gently. The feeling of his hands makes you shiver and you gasp into the kiss. He moans in response and nips on your lower lip before running his tongue over it. He pulls away for a moment to breathe before kissing you again with a fervor you’ve rarely experienced in your months of dating. 

You kiss him back just as desperately, curling your hands into his hair, tugging unintentionally. He moans loudly, his mouth falling open into the kiss. You pull again, deliberately this time, and the sound he makes drives you crazy. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire. Spencer’s hand slips under the hem of your shirt and you pull away to allow him to tug it over your head. 

Unwilling to part from him for too long, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him back toward you. Your fingers fumble with the buttons as you try to take his shirt off, distracted by the feeling of Spencer’s hands running up and down your sides. He chuckles and kisses you again before helping you finish unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his shoulders. 

Your hands slide across his chest and he gasps again. His hands hold tight onto your hips as you kiss along his jaw and down to his neck. You nip at a spot along his pulse and his hips buck up into yours with a moan. You freeze for a moment as a pang of anxiety shoots through you. You move away from that spot and continue to kiss along his neck as Spencer whines your name.

You smile, pleased at the reactions you’re getting as you kiss your way back up to his mouth, keeping your hands pressed against his chest. Spencer kisses you with desperate, open mouth kisses and the feeling of his hands sliding over your bare skin makes you shiver.

But then Spencer’s hands are tugging at your pants. Your eyes shoot open, having slipped shut while kissing him, and your whole body goes cold like a bucket of ice water had just been dumped over your head. Involuntarily, you tense, your lips freezing against Spencer’s. Spencer stills and pulls away, removing his hands and opening his eyes, looking at you with a furrowed brow. 

“Are you alright?” he asks softly.

A wave of guilt rushes over you and you press back in to kiss him, grabbing his wrists and returning his hands to where they had been, hoping he’ll just forget about what just happened. He seems to move on instinct for a moment, kissing back, before he gently grabs your shoulders and pushes you away. His eyes dart around your face, his expression full of concern.

He whispers your name gently and you turn your head away in shame. “What’s going on?” he asks. “Did I hurt you?”

Your eyes widen and you whip back around to look at him, shaking your head frantically. He looks so worried. Tears well in your eyes and you swipe them away violently, climbing off of Spencer’s lap. 

He watches you for a moment before grabbing your shirt from where it had landed and handing it back to you. You clutch it to your chest and sob. “I-I’m sorry!” you gasp. “I’m sorry!”

“Hey, hey,” Spencer says softly. He reaches his hand out but freezes before he touches you, clearly worried that doing so will make things worse. You press your body into his hand and he seems to relax as he starts rubbing his hand up and down your back. “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to apologize for. You did nothing wrong.”

You tuck your legs against your chest, still cradling your shirt, and bury your head in your knees. 

“Can you tell me what happened, sweetheart? I don’t want to upset you or make you uncomfortable but I need to know what I did so I don’t do it again.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you cry. “You’re perfect! It’s just me! There’s just something wrong with me!”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, baby.”

“There is!” you insist, lifting your head to look at him. He gazes back at you with a kindness you don’t deserve. You look away from him. “I want to have sex with you, I promise.”

The movement of his hand on your back stutters slightly but quickly continues. “Okay,” Spencer says carefully. 

“I-I don’t want you to think I don’t want you or-or love you because we haven't had sex yet, because I do! I really, really do! I’m just scared,” your voice trails off into a whisper as you finish speaking. 

“Hey, look at me,” Spencer says. You tilt your head and look up at him. “You’ve done nothing to make me think for even a second that you don’t love me. Whether or not we’ve had sex plays no role in that for me. Honestly, I don’t care if we ever have sex. I know we’ll both love each other just as much.”

“I do want to,” you whisper, your voice cracking slightly on another sob. 

“I know. I believe you.”

You sniff and wipe at your eyes again. Spencer smiles sweetly at you and guides you to lean against his chest, holding you close and rubbing your arm. 

“Can you tell me why you’re scared?”

“I-It’s stupid,” you mutter.

“It’s not stupid, especially if it’s bothering you. And being nervous about having sex for the first time is completely normal.”

“I know, but it feels like more than just being nervous,” you try to explain, unsure how to put the feeling into words.

“And that’s okay too.”

“There’s a lot of things,” you admit timidly.

“We can go through them. One at a time, okay?” Spencer offers.

You nod and press your head harder against his chest for a moment in thanks. “One thing I’m worried about is, um, how I look,” you mutter. “What if, once you see me naked, you don’t think I’m attractive anymore, or-or you think my, um, my genitals look gross or disgusting.”

Spencer is silent for a moment and you can feel panic starting to build in your chest. You shouldn’t have said that. You shouldn’t have said anything. What if you’ve messed all this up? This wonderful amazing thing you have with Spencer, just because you can’t get it together. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you start. “I don’t think you’re shallow or mean like that or anything. I—“

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I know you don’t,” Spencer reassures you.

“It’s— I know you won’t think those things but my brain won’t stop worrying about it.”

“That’s because anxieties are often irrational. We know that they’re untrue but they still exist. I don’t think there’s anything I could really say to prove to you that I won’t think those things but I can still promise that I won’t. No matter what, I will always think you are the most beautiful person I have ever seen.”

Fresh tears steam down your cheeks and your lip wobbles. You untuck your legs and let your shirt fall into your lap as you wrap your arms around Spencer. He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you,” he whispers. 

“I love you, too,” you respond.

You stay in each other’s arms for a moment before you pull away again. “What if I can’t cum?” you whisper, speaking so softly that you’re almost unable to hear yourself.

“I couldn’t hear you, I’m sorry, sweetheart. Can you say it again?”

Your face feels like it’s on fire and you bury your head in your hands out of embarrassment. “What if I can’t cum?” you say louder. There’s a moment of silence before you realize what that statement might sound like. “N-not through any fault of your own!” you rush to insist. “But because of my medication. Or-or because there’s something wrong with me! And what if I can’t make you cum. I want you to enjoy yourself when we have sex! I don’t want to let you down or not make you feel good!”

“Okay, I’m going to start with the first thing you brought up, alright?” 

You nod.

“This might not be what you want to hear, but being unable to cum is a possibility. There’s a condition called anorgasmia which results in orgasms that are less intense, delayed, infrequent, or absent altogether. And it can be due to taking certain medications. Though it’s unlikely because it only affects less than five percent of people, we won’t know if that’s something you experience until we try. If you do experience it, there’s nothing wrong with you, and there are ways to treat or work around it. But, to be honest, given the statistics, it is unlikely that you will be unable to cum. Your medication might make things a little more difficult but if that’s the case, and if we have sex, that just means I’ll get to spend even more time making you feel good.”

“But I don’t want it to all be focused on me. I don’t want you to have to put in extra effort you shouldn’t have to give just to make me feel good,” you respond.

“That leads me to your second concern.” Spencer pauses for a moment before saying, “Can you look at me, sweetheart?”

You lift your head to meet his eyes.

“Sex is not transactional. Just because I do something for you that doesn’t mean you’re obligated to do the same for me. And I can guarantee you that regardless of what we do, I will enjoy myself. And if I want to spend extra time or even a full night just focusing on you, that would not subtract from my pleasure at all. Making you feel good would make me feel good too. And if you’re worried about not knowing what to do when it comes to anything about sex, I can show you or we can do research together. Alright?” You nod and Spencer smiles at you. “Is there anything else that scares you?” he asks patiently.

You open and close your mouth. Anxiety clogs your throat and seems to physically prevent you from speaking. You bow your head. Of all the worries you have about sex, this is the greatest. “What—“ you pause and take a deep breath. “What if I try to have sex and then don’t enjoy it as much as I thought I would? Or-or what if I hate it and never want to have sex again?”

You look back up at Spencer with wide, pleading eyes. The tears once again forming and sticking to your lashes make his face swim before you.

“Then that’s okay,” Spencer responds like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“What?” you ask, unable to help but feel surprised.

“If you try having sex and decide you never want to again, that’s okay. If you change your mind midway and never want to try again, that’s okay. If you never want to even try, that’s okay. Nothing you do or don’t do could ever disappoint me or make me love you any less. I love you for you. I’m with you for you, not for sex. Sex is not necessary for a relationship to me. And I don’t want you to think it is for a second.”

Tears stream down your cheeks as you nod. 

“I will love you no matter what we do or don’t do. Okay?” Spencer says softly.

A sob of relief bursts from your chest and you launch toward him, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his chest. “Th-thank you,” you cry weakly. “Thank you.”

“You have nothing to thank me for, baby,” Spencer says, pressing a kiss to your head.

You shake your head in disagreement and feel him chuckle against you.

“I love you,” you whisper. “So so much.”

“I love you too,” he responds. “So so much.”

_____

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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.

_____

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

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@daryls-crossbow16 @roboticsuccubus83 @nemobee777 @dorcas4meadowes @spenciesslut @Idfk17 @pleasantwitchgarden @angeliccss @novaana

hello hello!! I absolutely adore your work!!:) I was wondering if you could write smut with overstimulation of sub! Spencer!

One More

I got you, bestie! Thank you so much for the request!

genre: smut

cw: 18+ mdni! sub!spencer, softdom!reader, dirty talking, praise, use of good boy, handjobs, oral sex (spencer reviving), nipple play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, completely gn!reader (reader is not described at all), no use of y/n, autistic!spencer (because every spencer is autistic!spencer), aftercare, cuddling

wordcount: 1k

Spencer writhes on the bed beneath you. His head is thrown back and his face flushed bright red. There are tears pricking at the corners of his closed eyes. He whimpers and mewls pathetically trying to move both closer to and farther from your hand on his cock. 

You chuckle at him condescendingly and continue to stroke him, using the cum from the orgasm he just had as lubrication. 

Spencer pants heavily, his flushed and cum-splattered chest and stomach heaving with the force of each breath. He tries to whine your name but is interrupted by another moan as you run your thumb over the head of his cock.

“Aww, baby,” you coo teasingly. “Is it too much?” 

Spencer opens his eyes to look at you and moves his head in a strange cross between a shake and nod, seemingly unable to decide. “Feels so good!” he gasps.

“Yeah?”

He squeezes his eyes shut as his face contorts with pleasure and he nods. He babbles incoherently, unable to form a complete sentence, and the thought drives you crazy. This normally so intelligent and articulate man, reduced to this. 

You lean forward and kiss a trail up his stomach to his chest, not slowing your hand once as you latch your mouth around one of his nipples. Spencer lets out a cry as he cums for a second time all over your hand and his stomach, adding to the mess that’s already there. 

Spencer whimpers softly when you remove your hand from his cock but the sound quickly shifts to a moan when you bring your hand up to the nipple not in your mouth. Spencer has always been incredibly sensitive everywhere and you love to use it to drive him crazy. 

You toy with his nipples with your tongue and fingers and revel in the way you can feel Spencer’s chest heave beneath your hands and mouth and feel his hips buck against your still fully clothed body. Part of you is tempted to grind down against him but you push that thought aside. This is about Spencer. This is about him allowing himself to be vulnerable and taken care of. The disparity in your level of dress adds to that, and it’s not like you mind him getting your clothes a bit messy, this is far from the first time he’s done so.

You pull away from his chest and Spencer opens his eyes to look at you, his pupils blown so wide that they almost eclipse the iris. You bring your clean hand up to wipe away the tear slipping down the side of his face and Spencer presses his head into your hand. “Sweet boy,” you mutter fondly. Spencer hums and smiles up at you. “You think you can give me one more, baby?”

Spencer’s eyes widen even further and you can feel him squirming beneath you as he nods.

You lean down to kiss him and whisper, “Good boy” against his lips.

Spencer’s breath hitches as you slide your way down his body until you’re settled between his legs, your face inches away from his cock. You wrap your arms around his thighs and grab onto his hips, pressing him further into the mattress with enough force to leave the small bruises you know he loves.

“W-wait,” Spencer stutters as you start to lower your head. You look up at him to see his hands, which had previously been curled into the sheets hovering in the air between you. “Can-can I touch now?”

You smile at him. “Of course, baby. Did so good asking for permission. Such a good boy,” you coo.

A dopey smile forms on Spencer’s face and he rests one hand on the back of your head and the other on one of your hands, not applying any pressure, simply enjoying the contact.

You drop your head and wrap your lips around him. Spencer gasps and his hips buck unsuccessfully into your hands as his cock starts to harden again in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock before slowly sinking down until your nose presses against his hips. You trace the underside of his cock with your tongue and hollow your cheeks. You hum softly around him and Spencer moans loudly. You pull back slightly and start to bob your head. 

Spencer’s cock is fully hard again almost instantly and you continue your ministrations, maintaining your grip on his hips to prevent him from thrusting into your mouth. 

Spencer’s hand curls around the top of yours, gripping it the best he can while it’s upside down. He writhes beneath you, broken moans and cut-off gasps escape his lips with every movement of your tongue and bob of your head. 

He’s already sensitive from his previous orgasms and you can tell that he’s close again already. Your theory is confirmed when Spencer gasps, “‘M close. Fuck. ‘M close.”

You hum around him in acknowledgment, gently scraping your front teeth along his cock, and Spencer cums with a weak shout. His whole body shudders and an almost pathetically small amount of cum shoots into your mouth. You swallow it down around him and keep your mouth on his cock until Spencer gently pushes you away. You release his hips and unhook your arms from around his thighs to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. You gaze up at him and smile at the fucked out look on his face.

“You done, baby?” you ask.

Spencer nods weakly and holds out his arms. You chuckle fondly and slide up next to him to pull him into a hug. He curls into your chest with a hum. You reach over to the nightstand to grab some of the wet wipes you keep there and gently wipe Spencer clean. 

He whimpers at the contact with his oversensitive cock and you murmur a soothing, “I know, baby. It’s alright. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Spencer presses himself further into your side and you hold him softly, pressing gentle kisses to his head and whispering soft praises into his ear.

_____

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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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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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Pretty Girl

summary: you have spencer try on a skirt, but neither of you expected to enjoy it this much.

genre: smut

cw: 18+ mdni! sub!spencer, softdom!reader, dirty talking, praise, kink discovery, feminization, spencer in a skirt, use of good girl, use of princess, handjobs, cumming in pants, completely gn!reader (reader is not described at all), no use of y/n, autistic!spencer (because every spencer is autistic!spencer), kink discussion at the end

wordcount: 1k

a/n: this is inspired by the fic "FBI's resident pretty girl" by stainlesssteel on ao3, it gave me feminized spencer brain worms so y'all should check it out.

“Would you be willing to try on a skirt?”

Spencer stops reading and looks over at you from across the couch, surprised. You feel your cheeks warm with embarrassment.

“You don’t have to, of course,” you continue. “I just— I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I think you’d look really good.”

You can practically see the gears turning in Spencer’s head.

“Really?” he asks softly.

You nod. “I, um, I bought one that would fit you the other day on a whim. But you really don’t have to. I can always return it.”

He closes his book and sets it aside. “No,” he says softly, nervously. “I’ll try it on.”

You beam at him and practically leap off the couch, holding out your hand to help Spencer up. He hasn’t needed his cane in a few months now, but helping him stand has become a habit. “Wonderful! Come on, sweet boy, it’s in the bedroom.” 

Spencer flushes and takes your hand, letting you pull him off the couch. He lets you lead him to your shared bedroom and park him in the middle of the room. “Stay there,” you say excitedly, patting him on the chest, “I’ll be right back.”

You scamper over to the closet and pull a high-waisted, pleated, white and gray plaid skirt off of a back hanger. You spin around and hold the skirt out in front of you with a smile as you walk back over to Spencer. You hand it to him, and he examines the skirt like it’s some sort of alien artifact.

“Pants off!” you say cheerfully.

Spencer flushes again and drapes the skirt over his arm to undo his belt and push his slacks off his hips. They fall to his ankles, leaving him just in his black boxer briefs, and he awkwardly climbs out of the pants, kicking them aside with a mismatched socked foot. Spencer nervously steps into the skirt and slowly pulls it up his legs. The skirt settles just over his hips and falls to a bit below his mid-thigh. You stare at him in awe. He looks gorgeous.

Spencer’s face is impossibly red when you look back up at him, and he wrings his hands together over his stomach. You reach up, tangling your hand in his hair, and pull him in for a quick kiss. “You look amazing, Spencer,” you say when you pull away. “You look like such a pretty girl!”

Spencer’s breath hitches and his eyes blow wide.

Oh, that’s new. And really fucking hot.

You smirk at him. “You like that, baby? You like it when I call you a pretty girl?” you ask teasingly, stepping closer to him.

Spencer’s gaze drops for a moment, embarrassed, but he nods desperately. 

“Yeah?” you coo. “You wanna be my pretty girl?” He looks back up at you and nods slightly. You’re so turned on your whole body feels like it’s burning up.

“Words, sweetheart.” You run your hands over his chest and down to the waistline of his skirt, rubbing your thumbs over his hips in the way you know drives him crazy.

“Y-yes,” he whispers.

You smile. “Good girl,” you purr.

Spencer whimpers at the praise, and you slip your hand down the front of his skirt and into his underwear, suddenly feeling very glad that you bought a skirt with an elastic waist. Spencer gasps as you wrap your hand around his cock and curls forward to press his head into your neck as you begin to stroke him. He pants and whines, weakly thrusting into your hand and digging his fingers desperately into your hips, unable to control himself.

“Aww, look at you,” you tease, sliding your free hand into his hair. “Pretty girl in a pretty skirt, with such pretty, long hair.” You tug lightly and Spencer whines. “You’re practically a princess.”

Spencer’s hips buck forward desperately. 

“You like being my princess, sweet girl?” you ask.

Spencer nods frantically, pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses against your neck that make you groan. His grip on your hips tightens and he’s clinging to you like a lifeline.

He gasps your name weakly. 

“Aww, baby, are you close already?” you ask, feigning disapproval. 

Spencer whimpers and nods again, thrusting wantonly into your hand. 

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, princess?”

Spencer continues to nod, his moans rapidly rising in pitch as he gets closer and closer.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

With a weak cry of your name, Spencer cums hard all over your hand and his boxers. You stroke him through it until he’s trembling and whining, barely able to hold himself up. 

You carefully remove your hand, wiping it clean on your pants, and guide him backward onto the bed. You climb up next to him, holding him gently and pressing kisses to the top of his head. Spencer hums contentedly. “Do you want me to—“ he starts.

You shake your head and cup his cheek, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose. “I’m alright, sweetheart. This was about you. Did you have fun?”

Spencer nods. “I-I didn’t expect that,” he says softly.

“Yeah? You didn’t know you wanted to be my good girl?” you ask. Spencer whines and buries his head in your neck out of embarrassment. You chuckle lightly and run your hand through his hair soothingly. “That’s okay, sweetheart. I really liked it, too.”

Spencer pulls back to look you in the eye. “Really?”

You nod. “Of course,” you reassure. “It was really fucking hot. You look amazing in that skirt, and I loved taking care of my pretty girl.”

Spencer blushes. “C-can we do this again sometime?” he asks nervously. “Not always. I still like being your good boy, probably most of the time. But every once in a while, can I be your good girl again?”

Excitement burns in your chest. You smile and kiss him hard, making Spencer gasp against your lips. “Of course, baby. We can do this whenever you want. Now, c’mon, let’s get you a bath and into something clean.”

_____

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