#spencer reid cute

[velvetwilde]

He's my babygirl

[inmyminditsreal]

Lego Is Life

Fem!reader x Spencer reid

Word count: 700 ish

Summary: Woken up by a very eager 8 year old daughter, Spencer and I crawl out of bed and indulge in Lego like true adults.

Warnings: sweetnessss

I'm supa tired so if this is rusty IM SORRRY!! also sorry i haven't posted in like 30 years. been tired and focused on school!! Hope you enjoy

Enjoyyyy!!!!

Spencer had just finished a case and as soon as he got home, he almost fell asleep while hugging me. I told him we should just go to bed, he agreed. So now we’re crawling into bed, finally able to get some sleep. Though, with an eight year-old daughter it’s very hard. Most nights we're woken up by bad dreams, the monster under the bed, that she puked, or that she wants to cuddle. We eventually both drift off to sleep, holding each other close. Until,

“Daddy! Come look at this!” Our daughter says as she bursts open the door. With a loud groan followed by a smile, Spencer crawls out of bed, picks her up and says,

“Where to sweetheart?"

“My bedroom!” She says with a stifled giggle. Curious as to what this mystery was, I crawl out of bed too and begin to follow them. I check my phone to see a whopping 1:37am. In the bedroom I see that Kasey has just finished building her Lego friends set.

“Awww that’s awesome sweetie.” I smile from the doorway with a yawn, and see Spencer give her a big high-five.

“I love it. Which one is this?” Spencer asks.

“This is the best waterpark ever. I call it Kasey’s Kool Slides, but cool with a k. It has all the cool characters and I can make them fight each other! It says you can add water to it! Can I?” 

“As long as you do in the living room, where there’s no carpet.” I add with a smile.

“So! Wanna play?” She zaps while looking at us with the biggest grin I've ever seen. 

We both look at each other with tired eyes and smile. “Absolutely.”

“YES! Okay so this is Emma, she’s my favourite and she likes Mia, Autumn, and Stephanie. But the other girls are their enemies! They’re the mean girls at their school.”

“Are they mean enough to give a tickle attack?” Spencer laughs as he throws her on the bed and tickles her into a fit of giggles. 

“Stop!!! Let's go to the living room and fill it with water!” She giggles as she escapes from his arms and runs down the stairs. 

“Are you sure you’re not too tired honey?” I ask Spencer, seeing his giant eyebags. 

“Of course. How could I miss out on this waterpark drama.”

I smile as he picks up the Lego set and walks down the stairs. Kasey has already cleared a big spot on the living room floor and filled a cup with water. “Are you ready?” She asks us both.

“Mhm.” I say, as we sit down by her and watch as she pours the water in with a giant smile. I watch as Spencer takes one of the characters and begins to fight with the one in her hand. She gasps and pushes his down the slide. Both of them, smiling like idiots. I join in  and they eventually tire eachother out. She collapses on top of Spencer, who has already fallen asleep on my lap. I snap a picture and gently wake him up,

“Spence, wake up its 3 in the morning. Honey, wake up.” I whisper while gently shaking his shoulder. His eyelids shutter and he looks up at me.

“Hi beautiful.” He smiles and shuffles his position.

“Don’t move!” I whisper-shout while pointing towards Kasey. He slips her into his arms, we both walk up as I pick up the lego set. In her room he sets her down on the bed and pulls the covers up slowly. She opens her eyes and smiles at us. 

“Goodnight mommy. Goodnight daddy. Can we play more tomorrow?” 

“I’ll see what I can do about that sweetheart. I love you.”  He says as he places a soft kiss on her forehead, and I do the same.

“I love you so so soooo much sweetie. Goodnight.” I whisper.

“I love you too.” She mumbles as she snuggles into her blankets. We turn out the lights and quietly shut the door. 

“She’s so cute, oh my god.” I mumble as we walk back to the room.

“So cute.” he says with a sleepy smile. I show him the picture I took of the two of them sleeping. He smiles and whispers softly,

“I love you so much.” While looking down at me. He collapses into the bed and I follow right after, crawling into his arms and drifting softly asleep.

[the-sun-died-out]

Slipping on Your Sleeves

Pairing: Spencer reid x fem!plus-size/mid-size!reader

Category: Fluff

Summary: Spencer can’t get enough of his girlfriend’s clothes

Word count: 2k

Warnings: curse words, alluding to sexual acts, body-negative thought

a/n: This is my first time posting a fic here! I’ve always wanted to get into sharing my writing, and I’m absolutely obsessed with Spencer. I hope you enjoy it, and I appreciate any critique! Sometimes whenever I would wear clothes of guys I was with, their clothes would be too small on me, and I feel like Spencer just breaks all the norms cause he would be obsessed with showing his love. Anyway enjoy, and hopefully more writing to come :)

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Spencer was obsessed with the smell of you. The sweet, saccrine, warm air of your perfume would infuse lovingly with your natural scent to create the lasting presence of you everywhere you went. Although his memory was perfect, he loved the tangible reminders as you left impressions of you all over his apartment, sheets, body, and heart. He could feel those reminders of you on your clothes especially. 

Although you and Spencer were not living together (yet), you would spend so much time at each other’s places that you started doing your laundry together to save effort. It’s when you started mixing the washes that you noticed clothes of yours would go missing. You thought pieces were just getting lost in the shuffle between your place and his, but you saw pieces would be coming out of the dryer that you never put into the hamper in the first place. 

Spencer would never consider himself the type to take someone’s things without asking, but one morning as you left his apartment in a rush to get to work, you had left your scarf haphazardly on the kitchen counter from where you had obviously meant to grab it from. As he was folding it for you to find when you got back, that delightful cinnamon scent you wore wafted up to his nose and he felt a buzzing of warmth as helt the smell filling him up. On an impulse, he wrapped it around his neck and headed off to work. They ended up getting called away for a case in Seatlle, and for all 3 cold and rainy days there he wore your scarf. He was the most relaxed he had every been while working a triple homicide. 

After realizing the calming effects your clothes seem to have on him, the next time he was over he ‘borrowed’ one of your sweatshirts. He quietly picked it off of the floor where he had thrown it in his haste to get your body, the sound of your giggling shrieks turning to pretty pitched moans playing in his head as he pulled it up to his face to soak in the smell. Just like with the scarf, the smell loomed up and wrapped him in your cacoon again as he took it in close and felt attached to this piece of you. Although the real you was lying right there, he needed to create a tangible memory of it. With his eidetic memory, everything sticks whether he wants it to or not. He never used to spend time creating a memory in his head until he met you. He would stare at your face, your smile, the way your hair fell, all the words you spoke to him: he took the time to take in the memory of you, getting to savor you in the now so he can enjoy the replay in the future. 

That sweatshirt would be worn by him at night in his empty hotel room while he would click those memories back into place and replay them. The scenes in his head surrounding him made it easier to feel as though you were there, and getting to have a piece of you with him made him feel as though a part of you was there waiting to be taken in. He would take in all parts of you for as long as he could until you got sick of him. He was so obsessed with you sometimes he could feel a physical pain having to be away from you. 

This continued on for quite sometime, taking a shirt there and pair of sweats there. When it was his turn to do the laundry, he would sneak the item back in after it lost it’s scent and place it back in your closet so you would wear it again. Spencer would stick to taking things you wouldn’t often notice, but this time he couldn’t stop himself from taking one of your favorites. This one smelled less like your perfume, and instead carried only your most natural scent which made him absolutely feral. The shirt hung on his small frame, and it was an encouraging reminder of you wrapped all around him. He should have known you would notice it missing, but the more instinctual side of him didn’t care. 

“Spencer,” you start, coming out in the living room where he was reading, “have you seen my shirt? The one that says ‘Ocean City’ on it?” You see the blush instantly creep up his neck as his mouth opens and closes coming up with a response. His eyes have widened and he looks a little like a deer caught in headlights. “Spencer? Have you seen it?” Still no answer from him. You were worried why he looked so anxious so you attempted to appease him: “It’s okay if you haven’t seen it, but I’ve just been looking for it.”

“I have seen it.”

“Oh okay…did you put it in another drawer or something?”

He lets out a sigh, realizing that he should just come clean. It’s not like it was the most perviest thing in the world, but he was worried about how you might perceive him wanting to wear it. He’d always hear about girlfriend’s stealing their boyfriend’s clothes all the time, not really the reverse. Most of his items however didn’t fit you as he often wore pieces that fit to his slight frame, they would be tight on your curvier frame. The first night he offered you a sleep shirt he had when you forgot to bring something, his heart broke at the obvious discomfort you felt trying to pull it down in what you thought would make him happy and he could see the negative thoughts about yourself that were beginning to form in your head. He shut it down instantly by removing his clothes and suggesting you both just sleep naked. Flat on his back with your soft tummy against him and your thick warm thighs wrapped around him, he never wanted to sleep with clothes being a barrier between you two again. The next day, he went out and bought extra blankets so that he could do this every night without cold being an issue. 

Spencer braced himself and pulled off his hoodie and he revealed underneath the exact shirt you were looking for: “I was wearing it sorry.”

Your eyes widened as you connected the dots: “Wait, I have had clothes go missing in and out for months…have you been taking them?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to take your clothes. It’s just that one time you left your scarf behind and I wore it during a-uh a case and it smelled like you and your perfume and god it gave me this like head rush and it started to feel like you were there. Then next I took a sweatshirt, and then from there it sort of started escalating because I found I couldn’t go to sleep in hotel rooms without wearing them or um sometimes I uh uh- would just like hold them. Not in a creepy way! Just to have the smell, and they were soft and it reminded me of how soft and beautiful you are and I loved how big they are on me because it makes me feel safe like you’re there with me? Like how good it feels when you lay on me and your body is covering mine and-” he cut his rambling off when he noticed the smile on your face. It was splitting, and then his eyes caught the dilating of your eyes. 

You had taken in what Spencer had said and you could feel your heart exploding with how absolutely sweet it was that he wanted you there and he wanted to wear your clothes. You weren’t often insecure about your size, but sometimes it was difficult to not note that you were bigger then Spencer. You had expressed these feelings to Spencer and he had listened intently, never wanting to ignore or diminish how you felt, but after he laid you down on the bed and showed you exactly how much he loved your size and every part of you. Every moment since he had proved how much he loved the way you look, and you started to believe it when you noticed he wasn’t only doing it to make you feel better. When you were lying on the bed or the couch, he would run his hands over all parts of you, and would special time on the areas that he knew you hated and graced them with his hands with so much care and need it made your head spin. When he thought you weren’t looking, you caught him staring at your ass and the way it would move when you walked. He would love fucking you from behind as he would stare mesmermized at the way it bounced against his pelvis. He would drink in your body not only in the sheets, but when you were simply existing in the house, or out running errands. His absolute favorite is when you would lie directly on top of him on lazy afternoons and he would hold you close, pressed against him to just feel you in a non-sexual way. It made him feel like he was soaking in all the love you had for him, and in return able to express without a word how emotionally safe you made him feel. He wanted to keep finding ways to show you just how special you were to him because nothing could ever really get to the all consuming feeling he had. 

You loved this blushing, adorable man in front of you with all your being. Him wearing your clothes was doing something to you: the realization that he had found yet another way to show you he adored all of you. The thought he wanted to feel you all the time, could never seem to have enough of his fill of you made you feel sexy and confident. It underlined the equal obsession you two had for each other. 

“Why are you staring at me like that?” he asked, his nerves worsening. 

“My god Spencer, you look so hot wearing my clothes.” The surprise on his face was evident.

“I-I do?” His stuttering just putting the icing on top of how badly you needed him at that moment. 

“Yeah Spencer, you do. You look like you’re mine,” you walk up to him slowly until you reach him and run your hands down his chest, “you like the reminder of me, huh? You like weaning my shirts to remind yourself you’re all mine?”

“Yes.” He said with no hesitation, albeit in a cracked whisper that he often had the first moments whenever your hands were on him. Usually Spencer was the one who took the lead in the bedroom, but that dominating side of him always took a second to come out because he would need to take a second to take in the fact that all of your you, wanted him. For as long as he had you, he would never be able to get over that initial shake in his heart that found your love unbelievable. 

You leaned in and gave him the softest kiss against the spot where his neck and shoulder connected, and the smell of you on the clothes permitted by the smell of his body being pressed to it connected and wafted into your nose. 

“Ugh Spencer, I can smell me on you. We mix really well together don’t we?” you glided your hands down his arms and connected them to where his hands had ended up gripped to your waist: “Why don’t you take off that shirt and show me who you belong to?”

In a swift move Spencer lifts you up over his shoulder, shrieks of surprise piercing his ear. He laid one hand on your legs to keep you steady, and another splayed across your ass to both hold and leave an imprint. 

“I think I need to take of your shirt first baby: my collection is getting a little thin.”

[chrisevansleftpeck]

Wine, Bubbles & Incense

Word Count: 820

Content Warnings: ppl in da bubble bath & wine

Based on: Dress by Taylor Swift

“I’m spilling wine in the bathtub, you kiss my face and we’re both drunk. Everyone thinks that they know us, but they know nothing about-”

You slipped into Spencer’s bathtub, the water still running. Your hair was clipped up in a low messy bun, just to keep it out of the water momentarily. You definitely needed this bath after a long night at Rossi’s with Spencer and the team. You and Spence never got drunk, except at Rossi’s. Wine nights at his house always ended funny for you and Spencer.

You were submerged up to your chest in warm, vanilla scented, bubble filled water. The incense you’d just started in Spencer’s room wafted into his bathroom through the open double doors. You knew you’d hear shit from Spencer about leaving it burning and unattended, but it didn’t concern you in the moment. The cherry-vanilla smell was too good to argue with after a good time at Rossi’s. 

It wasn’t long before you could hear Spencer’s footsteps trailing closer to the bathroom and he walked in cautiously, always careful not to disturb you (except for when you leave incense unattended, which you just did). You turned your head to watch his kneel on the bathmat beside you, expecting him to complain tiredly. You were pleasantly surprised to see him instead holding a glass of red in one hand, raising it up to you in offering.

“Hmm.” You considered. Spencer smiled, still holding it shoulder-level beside you. “You trying to get me good and drunk tonight?” You laughed, nodding and snatching the glass from him.

“Well, neither of us really got drunk, just tipsy. This might also be one of my most irresponsible ideas, but I wanted to maybe have some fun.” You couldn’t tell if you were shocked, but you knew for sure you were pleased.

“You should get in here.” You whispered, your unoccupied hand playing with the mountain of sudsy bubbles. 

Spencer smirked in agreement, licking his lips as he began to undress. You scrunched your knees up to your chest so Spencer could get in across from you. 

It took no time for you to begin messing with him, scooping a handful of bubbles then blowing them towards him, leaving bits of fluffy bubbles in his hair and on his face and chest. 

“Oh, you’re on.” He said mischievously, quickly pumping shampoo into his hand and placing a glob on it on top of your head, still clipped up in a low messy bun.

You sat stunned with your mouth open wide and eyes tightly shut as it dripped down your face. “You little bitch.” You laughed, maneuvering your hand around to try to reach for his face, but being met with a pretty little kisses all over your face.

You rocked back unexpectedly, giggling. Spencer reached over the tub for a towel to wipe your eyes with. “Y/N,” He laughed as you began squinting. “You spilled wine in my bathtub.” 

You hummed, giggly. “You kissed my face, it's your fault.” You fake pouted at him, taking one big sip of the wine before passing it over to Spencer. He held it for you as you released your hair, letting it fall down over your shoulders. 

Quickly, you drew in a breath, then submerged your head underwater, scrubbing the shampoo in and rinsing it. You returned to see Spencer holding back a small giggle. You noticed the glass of wine in his hand, less wine in it than before you washed your hair. 

“What happened to my wine?” You asked, leaning towards him. “Hm?”

He gulped a little, almost threatened by your beauty. “Gone.” Just like Spencer, clearly, the both of you were reaching drunk status. “What are you gonna do?” 

You relaxed back against your side of the tub. “I don’t know.” You yawned lightly, still smiling, but clearly tired. “Ask me what I’m thinking about.” You said.

Spencer placed the now empty glass on the tiled floor beside the bathtub. “What are you thinking?” 

“Everyone thinks that they know us, but they know nothing about this stuff. How nervous and desperate staring at your body and eyes makes me. How long I’d wait for you and how quiet one kiss could make me.” Your voice hushed as you spoke words that maybe wouldn’t have ever left your sober mouth. 

“No they don’t, baby. That’s just for us to know.” Spencer placed a slow, loving kiss on the tip of your nose. His hands met your hips under the water, creating a satisfied smile on your face. “You know, neuroscience says a drunk mind doesn’t speak a sober heart, but you make me question that.” 

“I can prove many theories wrong for you.” You giggled, giving a noticeable peek at the doors leading to Spencer’s bedroom. 

“Oh really? Such as?” Spencer tightened his arms around your body, nearly hugging you. 

You smiled cheekily, “Such as you hyperfocus on possible dangers that really aren’t really all that dangerous.” Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed. You leaned closer to him and whispered with a wide smile, “The incense.”

[incognit0slut]

He’s just a 43 year old baby :(

[0stargirl0]

Guys his necklace is rumple buttercup

[cumulo-stratus]

Guys look they're literally besties

[piqtescue]

this photo is rewiring my brain

[hornyramostan]

matthew gray gubler selfies, that's it

[whoisspence]

i love you sweater vest boy, i love you

[reiderwriter]

Elevator Pitch

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 2k!!

Warnings: Smut, fingering, semi-public sex/ foreplay, praise kink-ish, some pet names completely ignored Spencer's germophobia to make this work 18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: Getting trapped in an elevator is never fun, but at least the attractive you're sharing the metal box of death with has an interesting idea about how you can pass the time.

A/N: This is just a really quick drabble for @imagining-in-the-margins Meet Cute challenge for this month!! I have an idea for another one that I'll post closer to Halloween too, so look forward to that alongside all the kinktober fics 👀

Check out my masterlist here!

You weren't planning on running late on your very first day on your new team, but here you were. You were scheduled to meet Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner in his office at 9 a.m. sharp, and here you were at 8:57, trapped inside an elevator. At least you weren't alone, but alone with a stranger, and one who seemed to be talkative in the worst way wasn't exactly ideal either. 

"Hey, don't panic. There are about 6 elevator-related deaths per year and about 100,000 injuries. I'm pretty confident about those statistics." He said, taking a sip of his coffee as he stood calmly by the door, pressing buttons and waiting for something to happen. 

"Oh god, I'm gonna die in here." You whimpered a little bit, falling to your knees and screwing your eyes shut. 

"No, I said we're not gonna die. Or its at least very unlikely." 

"And I'm supposed to trust you?" 

"Yes, I'm very good with numbers. Elevator accidents account for 0.00024% of all elevators in service in the US. There you don't have to panic anymore." Almost punctuating his words, the elevator gave a low groan and fell an inch lower, pushing him off balance and toppling to the floor right next to you. 

"That was just unfortunate timing." He said, his breath hitting your face. Your eyes opened again finally, and you noticed that due to his topple, he was way closer than before, face merely inches from your own. Whoever this overconfident stranger was, he was attractive. Distractingly so, as you didn't respond to his sentence the entire time he was there in front of you, words suddenly escaping you as you stared into his dark, wide eyes. 

"Mechanical issues are the cause of about 15.3% of elevator incidents. Since we're in Quantico, we can probably rule out foul play, which means that they'll probably have us back up and running in around 27 minutes." Opening his mouth ruined the fantasy for a minute, waking you up to the reality of your situation. 

"Did you work an elevator case or something, why do you know so much about this?" You regretted the question as soon as you asked it, as he launched into another speech. 

"I read the statistical reports published by the CPSC and the OSHA. It’s really interesting stuff actually, there are-”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way but I need you to shut up. I don’t think I can take any more statistics about my inevitable death by elevator. Can we do something else instead?”

“Like what?” 

“I don’t know. Can you… Can you hold my hand?” You felt yourself flush red the second the words left your mouth, and suddenly it was your turn to talk too much. “My mom used to do it when I was scared as a kid, and obviously you’re not my mom, and you don’t even know me, but I thought it could help comfort both of us. Human contact and touch is supposedly comforting in times of distress so I just thought…” He cut you off by silently grabbing your hand and settling into a seated position beside you and you sent a little prayer up to god to spare both your soul and your heart. 

Because Jesus Christ it was beating hard now.

“Oxytocin,” he said and you looked up at him with a questioning look. “Oxytocin is released when you come into contact with other people, it’s the reason newborn babies benefit from skin-to-skin contact and why humans enjoy petting domestic animals so much. And the whole sex to destress thing.” He nodded and looked away, but you could have sworn the oxygen was completely sucked out of the room when he mentioned sex. 

“Sex?” He turned to you as you said the word, as if processing the conversation you were in the middle of it. 

“Yeah, never heard of it?” You rolled your eyes and squeezed his hand in your own for a second, but his body was leaning closer into yours now, his entire attention on you, as if he expected you to answer the question. 

“Of course I have.” 

“And what do you think? Can it help you de-stress?” 

Your mouth moves before you can stop it. “Can we stop talking about this please, I’m already scared, I don’t need to be scared and horny.” You close your eyes and groan as his widen again, and suddenly you’re praying again, but this time you wouldn’t really mind if you became one of those six elevator malfunction deaths. 

“I don’t know, maybe it would help you. There are some studies that show that stress can have aphrodisiacal impacts in women, you know?” His voice was light, but your entire body stiffened as you looked into his eyes, trying to gauge what this stranger was offering. 

“So what, you’re suggesting I just get more and more turned on until I’m not worried about death?” 

“No, I’m suggesting I close the gap between us and distract you for a while.” You spared a glance down to his lips then, his tongue darting out to lick them and pulling you in closer. You nodded quickly, a small movement and he pushed his lips down into yours. 

He was soft at first, and you almost felt like pulling away and scalding yourself for engaging in risky behavior during a near-death experience. But just as you moved to pull away, his hand came up to your hair and you melted right back into him, the kiss deepening as you slanted your neck up to give up more of yourself to him. 

You barely feel his hands pulling you into his lap, but you’re suddenly there and so happy you are. Your free hand wanders up to his chest as he squeezes your connected digits again, sending your heart into a fit of palpitations. In a panic you pull away, groaning a little as you can feel his not stiff member poking between your legs. 

“Sorry, I don’t think we exchanged names. I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N..” 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” His lips fall down to your neck as he whispers the words into your skin, and you let your head fall back as his hands untangle from you and fall to your hips, encouraging your movements as you begin grinding over him.

“And you said we had twenty-seven minutes before we’re free, right?” 

“Whose the one talking too much now?” He bit into your neck sharply then, and you moaned out, battling the urge to let him take you there on the elevator floor. From it’s perch on your hip, his hand slips down and pops the button in your pants, pushing inside and finally touching you through your panties.

“That’s it, good girl, just keep grinding down on me.” Unconsciously, you press your hips into his hands, the pressure leaving you letting out a whistful sigh of relief. 

“God,… Should we be doing this here?” Your words were unsure, but your movements weren’t as you pushed yourself into him again and again, desperate to feel more of him as he rubbed circles into your clit, driving you closer and closer to your peak. 

“Let’s assume for now that the elevator malfunction has wiped out the CCTV,” he says, lips pressing against your skin as you lose yourself in his touch again. “We absolutely should be doing this.” 

His words fell straight to your core, and you felt yourself grow more aroused as you pondered being caught in such an intimate position with a stranger.

“You think you can cum right here, baby? Think you can give me one soon?” His words almost sent you over the edge, his smile widening as your hips twitched over his. 

“Fuck, yes, yes, please, don’t stop.” 

“Not so scared about this elevator anymore are you? Or did you want to spend your last moments coming undone in my hands?” With his words, you lost the ability to speak, simply moaning out your agreement to his every word. 

“I think I can hear someone talking through the walls, baby, you’re going to have to cum now for me, can you do that?” You nodded to him as he increased his pace on your words, and within seconds, you were letting it all out, head falling against his shoulder as you twitched through your orgasm. He pulled his hands out of your pants quickly and pressed a kiss to your lips, pulling you up to a standing position and making you look presentable as the doors to the elevator were finally pried open from the other side. 

“Hey, how are you guys holding up in there?” The call came from the maintenance staff, and you were sudden;y thankful that he’d finished you off when he did because as horny as you’d been, actually getting caught like that was something entirely different than the fantasy of it. 

You’re almost sorry that you have to leave when you do, suddenly absolutely involved in helping him “destress” the same way he’d helped you out. But he removes his hands from you and strikes up a conversation with the maintenance staff working to get your elevator level with the floor doors. You gravitate to the back of the stall, gripping the railing while your brain catches up to the circumstances. 

In no time, the elevator is back in working order, and you and your stranger are stepping foot on steady ground again, and saying your goodbyes.  

“Aaron Hotchner’s office is through those doors. Up the stairs to the left.” He smiles and nods at you before turning down the corridor and leaving you there by yourself. A glance at your clock tells you you’re too late to question his words, and how he even knew where you were going. You take off down the hall, ready to profusely apologize to your new boss and pledge to take the stairs for the rest of your days. 

When Hotch finally greets you, he has already heard about the elevator malfunction, and all is thankfully forgiven. You have to bite your tongue before asking if everyone on this floor is psychic. But you’re still late, and you have a case, so your introductions have to take place in the briefing room and you half-run, half-walk behind the older man as he makes his way down the hall. 

“Everyone we have a new team member today, please help her out for this first one and show her the ropes.” He introduces you by name, and you’re suddenly doing your best to memorize the names of a Prentiss, a Rossi, a Morgan, a JJ, and one Penelope Garcia. They seem to be waiting for someone else, but with the clock ticking, Penelope begins debriefing you on the next case.  

“Sorry I’m late,” a voice calls from the door, and you feel the hairs on your neck stand up in shock as everyone slowly turns to greet the newcomer. 

“What time do you call this?” Morgan laughs as the familiar man approaches, and a quick glance around tells you that the only seat left at the table, which had been so obviously reserved by the pile of paper files in contrast to everyone else's digital alternatives, was right next to you. 

“Spencer, we have a new team member, this is Y/N. She’ll be joining us on cases from today onwards.” Hotch quickly says, and you lock eyes with the man just as he falls into his seat. 

“I think we’re acquainted. Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Spencer Reid.” The room falls silent as he holds out his hand for you to shake, and you do your best to not show your shock and embarrassment on your face. You let your hand fall into his, the same one that you’d held earlier, the same one that had worked you up to the edge and then helped you pour over it, the same one that had pulled you together afterward. You said nothing after you’d finally pulled apart, waiting for him to make the next move once again. 

“I look forward to working with you.” 

[lillysdreaminnn]

Thinking about how Spencer Reid is not a fan of physical touch but when he gets a partner???????????? That man is all up in you space - if you're comfortable with it as well of course.

Hugging, hand holding, kissing, cuddling in his bed, on his couch, in the jet if you're a part of the BAU.

This man is so touch starved he loves any sort of physical affection from you. Even if it is just as much as holding his pinky - or him holding yours, depends - when walking down the street or big crowds, even if you both dislike crowds.

He just loves loves loves touching you in any sort of way, any time of the day, for any reason he'll find.

You're cooking? Hugs from behind.

You're doing the dishes? Hugs from behind.

You're reading? His head is on your chest or lap and your fingers are running through his hair or your head is on his chest and he does the same to you.

You're sleeping? Surprise; Spencer is holding you or is ON you, being your weighted blanket or using you as his blanket, pulling you on him.

That's all 😊

[inmyminditsreal]

You're sweeter than cough syrup

Sick!reader x spencer reid

Word count: 573

Summary: You're sick at home, and Spencer takes care of you despite you being stubborn

Fluff!!

You’re lying in bed, feeling horrible, and wishing Spencer was there. You can't believe that you have a cold. Sniffling your way through the hours and watching some dumb reality TV show. Spencer went out to get you things, and It has only been 15 minutes since he left. Suddenly, Spencer calls out to you,

“Hey sweetheart, are you still in bed?”

You groan, “Mmm-yea.” and realize how hoarse your voice is.

“Oh honey- you look so sick.” He says, walking into the room.

You grumble back, “It's almost like I am.”

“I brought you some soup, also flowers, even if you can’t smell them - and snacks.” He says while smiling.

He places the things down, walks up and plants a soft kiss on your forehead. You smile, then respond,

“I love you so so much but- what's all this for? What's your angle..?”

You melt at the thought of him going to the store and buying you your favorite snacks, but you know he has some tricks up his sleeve.

“Well…I have some medicine. Nothing bad, just NyQuil.”

“No way,” You reply. You hate the taste of NyQuil, he knows that.

He opens the wrapper, lays down next to you, and holds the poison up to your mouth.

“No no no. It’s going to take more than this to get me to drink that.”

He scoffs, “Oh come on, you know Nyquil Cold and Flu is a combination medication containing acetaminophen, dextromethorphan, and doxylamine Dextromethorphan is a cough suppressant. It affects the cough reflex in the brain that triggers coughing. Doxylamine is an antihistamine that reduces the effects of the natural chemical histamine in the body. Histamine can produce symptoms of sneezing, itching, watery eyes, and runny nose.”

“How on earth does that help me?” You reply, secretly impressed.

He whispers, “ It doesn’t but, what do you want, hmm? Anything.”

“I dunno.” You respond.

“How about..this,” He says softly before placing a soft kiss on your lips. “is that enough?”

You turn your head away and pout, “Nope!”

He puts the medicine down and says “Hmm, what about….this,” He says while cupping your cheeks and peppering kisses all over your face and down your neck.

You fight away your smile but eventually say, “Fine, that worked.”

He picks up the cough syrup and gently holds your chin. You swallow the syrup and shake your head in disgust. He sits down in the bed next to you and wraps his arms around you.

You lay your head on his shoulder. You grab some chocolate and start eating.

“You really didn’t have to do all this, you know. You're just lucky you're sweeter than cough syrup.” you say.

“I know but the thought of you here all alone, sick. I hate it. I love you way too much to allow that.” He replies and snuggles into you. You move your head from his shoulder down to his chest and wrap your arms around him.

“You’re so cute, especially when you’re sick.” He mutters.

“No way, I look like a zombie.” You say back.

“What? No way. You look beautiful.”

“Well if you say so, you look cute too.” You smile back

He chuckles, lifts your hand and kisses it softly.

“Get some rest, you really need it.” He says.

“Yeah yeah okay, Love you.” You whisper.

You were already half asleep but him hugging you tighter sent you instantly into sleep.

You’re honestly glad you got sick.

[reidiot]

[miamimoo]

criminal minds isn’t called ‘criminal minds’ because of the horrific murders or insane unsubs. It’s called it because despite having a deadly illness and lying barely conscious on some random hospital bed, Spencer Reid still looks like this:

One word: Criminal.

[spencerscrookedtie]

Just a compilation of Spencer Reid doing :]