#no edits

Summary: For the past few weeks you’ve seen a cute man at the same time and cafe. You’ve finally gotten the courage to ask him out, with a note that gives Spencer Reid to choice but to say yes.

Spencer Reid x Awkward!Reader

(This is my first time writing for Reid and posting on tumblr in general (PLS BE NICE EVEN IF ITS A LIE) be warned reader stumbles a lot meaning a lot of “word-“ or “wor-“ (This work is not AI and i dont consent running it through AI)

WC:1k-ish words

Warnings: Fluff, Awkward reader, A lot of stuttering, open ending sentences, not edited (sorry!), lowkey self insert, This is a oneshot but will be the beginning of BAU!reader >:)

(Found all my dividers, png, pictures, ect on Pinterest creds to creator. (If you are the creator and want me to not use them comment and i will change or take it down when i see it!!!))

The Café was warm, the sounds of the machines buzzing lowly. Fairy lights twinkled across the walls. The smell of roasted coffee beans and cinnamon, warm and comforting in a way that made it easy to linger.

You had been lingering a lot lately. Well ever since you started to notice him.

He always sat in the same small corner table near a window, long legs tucked almost awkwardly under it. A book always open and wither on the table or in a palm. A mug he barely touched rest on the table. A careful finger dragging down the page gracefully, almost in reverance.

His lips moving in a mumble as he absorbed the words on a page like a sponge, Like he couldn’t help himself. Most of the time he flipped the pages far too fast for it to be normal.

Many times you reminded yourself not too stare, but who were you kidding you were totally staring.

He was a total looker and, unfortunately for you, totally your type.

It first it was nothing, just a flicker of movement that you barely registered, a stranger sitting by the window s you ordered your usual fruity drink. Then it became something you noticed in your peripherals, the soft blur of someone tall, usually hunched over a book.

After that you looked, really looked, and realized it was always the same man. His unruly hair became recognizable. Sometimes he wore cardigans, other it was knitted sweaters. Normally it was they were muted colors. One thing that wasn’t muted were his socks. Each day they were mismatched, whether in pattern or color, sometimes both.

You shook your head to stop that train of thought. For the past week you have ran through the thought of pilling as much courage as you could possibly have and ask him out. It was without a doubt that he never noticed you. Not that you weren’t attractive, to someone at least.

You kept telling yourself you’d do it next time you saw him. Then the next time—and then the next. But that hesitation was slowly being replaced by something stronger. Something firm and stable. Something that made your nerves feel less like a warning and more like a push forward. Even if that was wishful thinking.

Before you could second guess and wait another week. You walked.

At first it was one foot in front of another. The folded napkin in your hands felt heavier than it should as you approached his table. He didn’t notice you at first. completely absorbed in a book seemed to be written entirely in Russian. That for sure made you almost take a step back. what if he didn’t speak english? The rejection wouldn’t even be as embarrassing as asking a man who didn’t even speak the same language as you.

“Um..” you breathed out.

You didn’t even think he’d register you. But he startled, eyes snapping up to meet yours. They were wide and curious. “Oh—hi. Sorry, i didn’t see you there.”

“It’s okay,” you replied quickly. You took a shaky breath. “I just—this is going to sound weird, so I’m going to commit and leave.”

He blinked, “That’s… quite an introduction.”

You huffed a small laugh and quickly slid the folded napkin across the table.

“its—uh. It’s for you,” You said. Then instead of leaving, you stepped back, rocking lightly on your heels. Anxiety tingling at your fingertips.

For a moment he didn’t move. His eyes darting between you and the napkin like it might either explode, or tell him the secrets of the universe. You couldn’t really tell. Until he carefully unfolded it.

His lips parted as he read. (Faster than you ever could.)

And then he pursed his lips, in a futile attempt to conceal the smile rising on his face. His face began to dimple as smile lines began parting the waves of skin on his face. He released the warmest giggle ever. As if this man couldn’t get better. His smile was dazzling, enough to stick you straight into a stupor and bring a flush of heat to both your cheeks and ears.

His laugh wasn’t restrained or polite. No, this was genuine, and real and so so so swoon worthy. It made your palms sweat with how much his face light up in pure delight.

“What?’ You asked. As you rubbed your palms together, already smiling despite the heavy pounding of your heart in your chest.

He held up the napkin, smile still stretching his lips. “It says, ‘Will you go on a date with me? Breathe if yes, backflip for no.’”

You shrugged, shying away from his gorgeous hazel eyes.

He laughed again, softer this time, shaking his head as he pushed his hair back. “That’s not entirely fair”

“Why not?” You looked back at him.

“Well,” he gestured to himself, “i am—statistically speaking, not athletically capable of executing a backflip”

You breathe out a shaky sigh, the sting of rejection started sticking its little cold needles into your beating heart. A surge of courage filling your veins, “Well..” you paused, “I think that means you have to go on a date with me.”

There was the smallest pause. Then he ducked his head, smiling, almost shy. “I guess i will.”

Relief flooded through you. “Great. Good. That’s—good.”

He folded the napkin carefully and slid it between the pages of his book like it mattered.

“I’m Spencer, by the way,” he added.

“i know,” you said automatically.

You made a soft, almost strangled noise and covered your face with both hands. “Oh my gosh.”

Spencer blinked, startled

“I—that sounded creepy,” you mumbled into your palms. “I didnt men it like that, I’m not—I’m not stalking you or anything i—“

Your hands hovered in front of your face as you started talking too fast.

“I’ve seen you here, like… sometimes—but it’s a café so thats completely normal and i heard them call your name—when your uhm.. order is ready. An—and i saw that you read really fast, which i noticed, and is again normal to notice. Not like a weird observation—well, it’s a little weird, but impressive nonetheless…” You paused, slightly mortified.

His mouth twitched, trying not to smile

“And i told myself,” you rushed on gesturing vaguely. “That if i saw you again today, i would just do it and ask you out, and then you were here again—which, obviously, because you’re always here, which sounds worse than it did in my head.” You abruptly stop. Squeezing your eyes shut and mental berating yourself to spilling your guts to the handsome guy at the cafe.

“I should stop talking.” You sighed into defeat. That’s it. You definitely ruined your chances.

After a beat, he let out another soft laugh. You slowly lowered your hands.

“If anything,” his expression became a little sheepish, “It’s consistent behavior. Repeated exposure to the same environment increases the likelihood of noticing patterns. Patterns including people.”

You stared at Spencer. His list getting longer and longer. Not only was he drop dead gorgeous, but smart, and knew how to laugh and ease the awkwardness.

Then, without thinking you blurted out, “I just thought you were handsome.”

The words were soft and honest. His entire face changed. Not dramatically, just a small pause. almost a flicker of surprise. Than was overtaken by something warm. Something honest. Almost a fragility to him as if he were handed something made of glass rather than a compliment. The word was on the tip of your tongue. Almost as if he were in disbelief that you thought that of him.

“Oh,” he said quieter now.

You winced slightly. “Sorry— that was—“

“No,” he said quickly. “No that’s… nice. That’s really nice.”

You laughed nervously. “Cool. Great. This is totallyyy normal.”

He reached out, almost like he was going to comfort you, but his fingers grasped the lip of the table instead. “You’re doing fine,” he said, and it sounded like he meant it.

That steadied you, at least a little. Enough to remember that you haven’t even introduced yourself. Wincing you turned around and sheepishly said your name, and a hurried apology for forgetting. Earning you another soft smile.

“Anyways,” you continued, rocking back on your heels again. “Tomorrow. Same café. Less nerves—well maybe. I guess.”

He smiled. “I’ll be here.”

“I hope— i mean i know,” you started, then caught yourself, squeezing your eyes shut for another second. “—not in a creepy way of course.”

He laughed, softer this time. “I know.”

You pointed at him as you started backing away. “And please—“ you cleared your throat,” i mean no practicing gymnastics to get out of it.”

“i promise,” he said. “I will rely exclusively on breathing.”

“Good.”

You turned and began making your way toward the exit. Only making it a few steps before you paused. Glancing back at him with a shy smile tugging at your lips, a soft flush overtaking the apple of your cheeks.

“Im really.. really glad you were here again.”

He held your gaze, something gentle settling into his expression.

“Me too.”

Part two: Save The Date!

he coerces you with chicken curry and ice cream, making extra trips to your favorite takeaway spots when you've had a rough day

in orc culture, it is extremely disrespectful to refuse a meal. so you practice eating more and more when he is around. finally your dizzy spells lessen and you are sleeping better - when he is not rewarding you over and over and over

he finishes with a smirk when you beg after your eleventh or twelfth peak, "please - i can't take much more."

you let him have his cocky chuckle. being loved by an orc man who collected such joy from giving you pleasure helped dissolve some of the fog of stress that kept your stomach in knots every day.

"a cup of coffee isn't a breakfast," he would chide you in the mornings. he's always been the one to wake first. he comes to greet you with your favorite donut, a piping hot caffeinated beverage, and a bowl of fresh fruit. he's straddling you before you can finish, letting you save the last bite for after.

more orc stuff:

himbo orc pt 1