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fuckingstrange · 3 months

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Quieting Down

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WARNINGS: Mean!Bau Team (apologies fr), Anxious & Upset Spencer, Brief mentions of insecurity, non-beta read

WORDS: 1,195

PAIRING: S.R. x gn!reader

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Spencer has been quite.. off, recently. He's been more reserved and quiet, and while the team has started seeming to almost praise him for it, you can't help but be concerned. Especially because you see things that they don't after the work day.

You see him at home. Where he remains reserved, unlike normal. He doesn't talk to you much, usually responding with a head nod or a light shake, sometimes with one word replies. When he does speak and use his voice it's with a tone so timid and the volume of a mouse. It's heartbreaking, really. You miss when he'd ramble, when he'd talk to you and constantly say how much he loves you. You know he still loves you, that much hasn't changed, but you miss his voice.

Right now, you each are walking into the door after a long day at work, the poor man exhausted. He silently slips off his shoes and sets his bag down on the couch before making his way to the kitchen, opening it up and glancing around at the contents. He decides on a simple glass of orange juice, grabbing out the jug and a cup, grabbing a second one and gesturing to you in a silent offer of some.

You give him a light smile and shake your head, walking up to him and resting a hand on his lower back as he pours himself a glass. You put the jug back away in the fridge for him as he goes and settles on the couch, curling up off to the side and watching whatever was on the TV.

You frown at the continued silence, deciding to try and get him to talk, you go over and sit beside him. You lean in, lips near his ear so you can whisper, “Mind if I hold you?”, and wait until he gives a light nod before pulling him to cuddle in with you. You end up holding him in your lap, propped up a bit with a pillow against the arm rest so that he lays at an angle on you.

Spencer’s arms instinctively move to wrap around you, and you don't miss how he seems to melt against you. Your hands move up to play with his hair, lightly stroking it back so you can see his relaxed, yet exhausted expression. After a few minutes of letting him adjust to the change of being home, feeling the slight anxiousness he seems to always hold while at the bureau finally going away, you guide his gaze to meet yours by gently turning his head.

Spencer’s eyes are truly captivating. You could lose yourself in how softly they stare into yours, the dark brown colour making him look so.. adorable. His eyelids almost seem weighed down by the dark eyebags, your free hand moving to rest on his cheek so you can rub the dark circles with your thumb in gentle, soothing movements. He gives you a light smile in return, tilting his head a bit to press a kiss to the inside of your forearm.

You lean forward to press a light kiss to his forehead, leaning back to look back down at him. You hesitate for a couple minutes, debating on whether or not you should ask him why he's suddenly so quiet and nearly refusing to speak because you don't want to possibly trigger or upset him. Though Spencer, managing to have memorized what your microexpressions mean, presses another kiss to the inside of your forearm in a silent reassurance that you're allowed to speak.

You take a deep breath, exhaling and staring into his eyes for a few seconds before mustering up the courage to ask him. “Why have you suddenly.. gone quiet? I've noticed.. I've noticed you're not as talkative as before. You act like a ghost at work. What's with the change?”

While Spencer isn't at all surprised by your question, having expected people to notice his sudden quietness, he didn't expect you to react more concerned than happy. “I just thought.. I needed to shut up a little more, you know? I can be a bit annoying, so I thought this would be.. uh, I thought this would be better.” He responds, his tone still timid and his voice just barely over a whisper.

You swear your heart breaking is an audible sound that echoes through the room. You grab the sides of his head and guide him to sit up with you, feeling his slight anxiousness towards what your response could be. “Spencer.. no, baby.. You don't need to shut up, you never need to shut up. I like your voice, I love your rambles. You're not annoying- Why would you think that?” You can't help but ask, wanting to know if it's been a growing insecurity or something else. His gaze falls from yours, head turning to the side. “Well, the team.. they just kind of.. don't like to listen. It, uh, it makes me feel like my voice is useless.” He explains, squirming a bit. You don't move to stop his motions, letting him look away and watch as he starts to fidget with his hands in his lap, knowing it's his own way of self-soothing when his anxiety feels like it's built up too much. He waits a second before continuing his explanation, his voice just barely louder now that he knows you never wanted him to be quiet. “I know it's stupid but I just thought they'd be happier than if I talked as much as I did, and they are.. I didn't like talking just to be ignored, I.. I, uh, I don't mean to sound rude or anything but it.. kind of hurts to be treated like that.”

His words pull at your heart, the last sentence might as well have even been a straight-up bullet to the chest. You move your thumb to rub his cheek, seeing the saddened and anxious look on his face. “I.. can't say I understand why they're like this either, Spencer, nor do I like that they treat you like this. You're not at fault for getting upset over being ignored, it's rude and you're allowed to be upset. Just like you're allowed to use that voice to talk. Even if they're not listening, I will.” You reassure him, leaning forward to press a light kiss to the side of his forehead.

Spencer ends up turning back to look at you after the kiss, tears resting in his eyes. You wipe them away before pulling him to lay back down with you, pressing another few kisses around his face, pulling a smile from the man. He can’t think of a response, so instead he just melts against you again, happy that somebody cares enough to listen.

You start playing with his hair again, enjoying the way he seems so relaxed, like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders now that he knows you never wanted him to force himself to stop talking. You lean down to press one last kiss to the top of his head before leaning, relaxing against the couch. “I'll always listen.”

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NOTES -

Somebody needs to let this man just full on fucking RANT for hours. Any and all topics, LET HIM SPEAK AND INDULGE IN HIS INTEREST!! (I volunteer as tribute !!)

I'll likely make an angstier version of this

#spencer reid #spencer reid x gn!reader #fluff #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #hotboxed fanfiction #fluff and sad stuff #let him RAMBLE #let him BE HAPPY #PLEASE

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tobias-hankel · 9 months

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Why does Spencer look so sassy here? Like a little brother waiting on his sister to hurry up.

#also Spencer carrying everyones bags for no reason #unless that is all his stuff #then why did you pack so much Spencer #what if Spencer packed his own sheets #I do hc that Spencer has a weighed blanket for the jet #criminal minds #spencer reid #elle greenaway #reidaway #kinda #why not #2x5

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milla984 · 6 months

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A Million Reasons

Summary: after a phone call from Penelope, Reader teases Spencer about a potential love interest and things don’t go exactly as planned.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Category: fluff with a little angst

TW/CW: a little bit of angst, brief mentions of food, self-doubt, mentions of anxiety, kissing

Word Count: 1.2k

Thank you @drgenius-reid for taking the time to beta-read this!

The following work is my entry for @andiebeaword's 3,000 Follower Celebration Writing Challenge (prompt n. 12) and is also part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

Spencer scooped out of the paper cup what was left of his ice cream before he finished recounting the events leading to the arrest of the unsub the entire BAU team had been successfully tracking down in Seattle during the past few days.

“He’ll be charged with ten counts of murder, one attempted murder, and unlawful possession of multiple weapons. He’s facing ten life sentences without parole.”

“Way to go, Justice League!” you cheered, enthusiastic.

He tucked his hair behind his ear with a cute chuckle. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbow so you caught a glimpse of his wristwatch reflecting the light of a lamp post standing along the edge of the walking path; from the bench you were both sitting on you could see the illuminated dome of the US Capitol rising up against the dark mid-summer sky.

Despite being within walking distance of a major street in the southwest quadrant of Washington, the park was quiet and uncrowded and the nearby gelato shop was one of Spencer’s favorites.

You took the last sip of your drink, acting very casual. “And that’s all that happened?”

He shrugged, unsure about which crucial information could have been missing from his story since he was under strict instructions not to fill you in on the most gruesome details of the cases he’d worked.

“Uhm, graphic descriptions of tortures and mutilations are not—”

“I’m talking about a certain homicide detective… the one you gave your number to…?” you explained and his jaw dropped instantly.

“What?!”

You nudged at him with your elbow. “Garcia called me from the Original Starbucks in Pike Place. I couldn’t tell if the hype was about your new admirer or being there.”

“I don't understand how this is such a big deal!” he blurted out in a high-pitched voice. “She showed an interest in what we do so I gave her my card.”

No profiling skills were required to detect his firm intention to avoid discussing the matter, yet the words came out of your mouth like a river in spate.

“Any chance it wasn’t only a professional interest?”

The way Spencer looked at you, disappointed and hurt, hit you worse than a punch in the liver.

“What’s with you, guys?! Are– are you all so invested in my personal life because you’re convinced I’m chronically unable to have one without your help?” he snapped, something you’d never seen him do.

“I’m s—” you tried to reply, even though he was still too angry to let you apologize and cut you off again.

“Or maybe it’s just that I’m no Derek Morgan, so the idea of someone noticing I exist is pathetic or funny to you?”

“Seriously?! An IQ of 187 and this is the best inference you can come up with?” you snorted, upset by the subtle insult he’d thrown at you - even if you had to admit you deserved it.

His brows furrowed. “Then why did you bring this up?”

“I didn’t mean to pry, I’m sorry. I truly am,” you admitted, “but I would never ever think that people hitting on you is pathetic, give me some credit!”

He remained silent for a while, quite aware that Penelope’s inability to keep her mouth shut generated from genuine excitement about what she perceived as good news; sharing such personal information with you meant you had been put to the test over and over and, in the end, deemed worthy of her trust.

The peaceful atmosphere around you served as an amplifier for the sound of splashing water and Spencer indicated the fountain at the center of the large, round basin in front of you with a jerk of his head.

“I read a book about the architectural history of D.C. on the way back. This piece was created for the 1876 Centennial International Exhibition in Philadelphia, the US Congress acquired it in 1877 and placed it at the base of Capitol Hill. It was dismantled in 1926, then it remained in storage until 1932 when they moved it here.”

The pedestal held three twin iron-casted sea nymphs wearing wet tunics, with their arms raised above their heads to support a shallow vasque; on top was a group of kneeling child tritons, and the base was decorated with turtle-like aquatic creatures.

“It’s beautiful,” you mumbled.

The fact he’d for sure started and finished said book in less than fifteen minutes was among the 999.999 entries in your list of reasons to crush over SSA Reid. And so were his three PhDs, his crooked ties, his passion for Star Wars, chess and Halloween.

“I don’t talk much about my private life. Especially outside of work,” he confessed after a pause. “A lot of times I have a hard time discussing personal issues—”

“Spencer… you know you don’t owe me an explanation, right?” you rushed to clarify.

He nodded and you did the same in response, to confirm you had no intention of pressuring him into opening up if he felt uncomfortable but were also ready to listen to anything he had to say; even in dim light, you could see the sadness veiling his beautiful hazel eyes.

“I’m sorry I overreacted. Garcia was being Garcia, with her ‘look at the world through rose-colored glasses’ scenarios. Except, in this case giving my card to a homicide detective to discuss behavioral sciences was just what it sounds like. I understand where she’s coming from, I never told her…”

Your whole body tensed up, courtesy of a rush of anxiety triggered by the possibility of him being already involved with someone he had never mentioned, not even to his closest friends; you wondered if he could hear the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Luckily for you, Spencer didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m trying to come to terms with something I’ve been feeling, for weeks now. And I’m worried, because of what happened in the past and I can’t let go of…” his voice broke a little, so he swallowed. “Deep down I’m afraid I'm not the type of person who gets to live out happily ever after.”

Refraining from hugging him on the spot and holding him close to your heart had gotten increasingly difficult lately, so you settled for a peck on his temple in a clumsy attempt at a comforting gesture.

Spencer jolted, befuddled, and for a moment you feared for the worst; you certainly didn’t expect him to lean forward to cup your face in his hands - big hands. With slender, elegant fingers he tenderly brushed over your cheeks.

You both held your breath, waiting for the distance between you to vanish until your foreheads touched and the tips of your noses rubbed together.

“... are we really doing this?!” he whispered, sending shivers down your spine.

You smiled. “Don’t make me wait for another six months.”

Spencer squinted, an indication he was browsing countless data and events stored in his memory; when he eventually pinpointed the exact moment you fell for him he squeaked in surprise.

“Christm—”

You pressed your palm on the nape of his neck, guiding his lips over yours for the kiss you both had been longing for.

Reason number 1.000.000: Dr. Reid had a crush on you, too.

@thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid, @pretty-boys-book-club, @spookydrreid, @f-me-reid, @foxy-eva, @scorpiofangirl1109, @a-potato-wearing-plaid, @cynbx, @reidsbookclub, @nagemasstuff, @hotchsdharma, @reidmainbitch, @lizzylynch1, @will-grahams-eyes, @padawancat97

»»»— read pinned post for taglist info —«««

#spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid x reader #friends to lovers #mutual pining #idiots in love #my gifs #milla writes stuff #andies3kwritingcelebration #for the first time i don't hate the title!#fun fact: the setting for this one is a real place in d.c.

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the-fo0l · 8 months

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Spencer Reid x gn!reader hcs

Notes: lotta spencer content has him as an asshole, pregnancy, angst, smut, insecure reader...so here's some classic fluff

Warnings: fluff!, earlier seasons reid +he's kind of a simp (and a bit subby ;))

the way his eyes just absolutely light up whenever he sees you <3

the man's a total genius, but only in the book-smart way, socially, he's a little...stunted

he's very much not used to any proper form of love, so you're gonna have to be a bit patient with him while he gets used to it

but believe me he is trying his very best cause he does not want to dissapoint you

at first he thought your love of his rambles was just a way to make fun of him

but since you seem to actually like listening to him talk, he'll take the opportunity to ramble to you about anything and everything on his mind

which the team appreciates, he has an outlet to rant to, someone to attend his geeky events with, and most importantly, someone reliable to support him

(they are still annoyed when he's constantly on the phone with you, meanwhile there's an active crime scene a few meters away)

before you two started dating he probably already considered you his best friend who he totally neverrrr had a crush on (sarcasm)

he was blushing, stuttering, jittery mess when he asked if he may be your boyfriend

and yes, that's how politely he asked

or at least he tried to, you had to cut off his blabbering with a "yes"

how could you ever say no to such a charming, lovable, polite young man

plus yk...he's cute as hell

the type to go out of his way to wake up early to make your coffee and breakfast just the way you like

wearing matching rings, either with each other's initials or some nerdy inside joke

he absorbedly teases the ring on his finger when he misses you

whenever someone mentions you he gets visibly more engaded in the conversation, and the team teases him like crazy for it

like, sometimes the crew'll pretend to be talking about you and watch how reid immediatly perks up from whatever file he was buried in and turns to look where the he heard your name be spoken. and he falls for it every. fucking. time

gushes to you about any new interesting books, reseach, interesting statistics, facts, events etc

in a similar vein, he'll get caught in gushing to the gang about how cool and smart and funny his partner is

rizzes you up w magic tricks

but can't handle you flirting with him, he's smiling like an idiot and bashfully looking away, with his face all red

a lot of people say he wouldn't like pda, and i get it, but i think if you've been together long enough and he feels comfortable around you he's not shy about expressing it, verbally or physically

i mean yeah, it's not "all up in your face" pda, it's with smaller affectionate gestures

vents all his thoughts, concerns and emotions out to you, and listens attentively and patiently when you have to vent

falls in love with you all over again listening to you get caught up talking about your interests/opinions

man's capable of easily retaining encyclopedias worth of info, so anything and everything you tell him gets commited to his database of a mind

be it the most insignificant gossip or tiniest detail about your childhood, you best belive he's never forgetting that shit

tries his best to not profile you or try to explain your emotions to you, but really he dosen't need to be told twice when it comes to learing the intricacies of realationship ettiquette

he's never dated anyone before and he's about as nervous as he is excited

deeply fears disappointing you, hates the thought of being a burden to you, so hearing affirmations of your love verbally means a lot

more than anything he needs a solid positive presence to help him deal with his emotions

so if he's had a really bad day, or a rough case, he comes to your front door and just totally breaks down and falls into your arms, crying into your shoulder

if anything traumatic were to happen to him, you're the first person he needs to be there

and if he woke up in a hospital bed he'd immediately start asking for you, rather frantically too

and if the event is traumatic enough, he may become a bit codependent, at least for a week during the recovery process

used to get jittery around you from nerves, now it's from the uncontainable happiness he feels being around you

his kisses are so shy and inexpirenced but also so, so needy and desperate

he'd die if you ever custom made a puzzle or quiz with questions about your relationship, like he'd be so overjoyed, literally would never shut up about it

(he'd nail it ofc)

reid usually isn't one for physical affection, like, not at all

but it's completely the opposite with you, he can't seem to keep himself away

and the guy is starved for touch...or really affection of any kind, so whenever he can, he clings onto any part of you he can

sits on your lap facing you, it's like you guys' favorite relaxing position, it's so intimate

follows you around like a puppy, all giddy and stupid with love

always holds your hand or onto your forearm while walking beside you

cuddles very close, tightly intertwined with you

you'll have to squirm and push while he just pulls himself closer into the crook of your neck

or yk just tickle his sides when he least expects it

reads to you, odds are whatever book it is, he's already read it, dozens of times over if it's a classic or scientific. he very well could just recite it but if there wasn't a book to look at, he'd have to look at you which would make him get distracted and trail off

which you'd, of course, playfully tease him for

in conclusion, you're never allowed to break up with him, i don't make the rules, it's the law

#there's just something about geniuses with a touch of the tism #dont judge okay i wrote this idk when #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid headcanon #sorry ive been forgetting to post w school starting again #working on sum exciting stuff

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hookechoes · 4 months

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jj and spence reading a magazine together they are siblings your honor

#you know he was reading slower so she could keep up #criminal minds #jj jarreau #spencer reid #when my sister would go on the family computer and i would just watch her do stuff on the internet and vice versa...same hat #and no i do NOT accept the later season plotpoint of jj being in love with spencer as canon. thank you

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eyesontheskyline · 22 days

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Just here to remind us all that Emily didn't go to Reid's speech in True Genius - she is also on the stage, because she's also a speaker. They're speaking at a conference together. She's standing in the crowd after, mingling, looking like she's answering questions.

Also a whole thing is made about missing Reid’s birthday and she throws him a party, and they also missed her birthday. Her first after her "death", after she spent months all alone in Paris.

Justice is when???

#emily prentiss #spencer reid #listen i don't dislike him #but the way the narrative prioritises him #and then parts of the fandom buy into that #does make him a little unbearable sometimes #I LIKE HIM HONESTLY #and i love their relationship #but stuff like this though...#criminal minds

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emilylprentiss · 9 months

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jemily + work song by hozier

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #jemily #criminalmindsedit #jemilyedit #tvedit #tuserkei #userkayjay #usercats #userjean #cargopantsprentiss #cm gifs #i really dont remember who to tag for - im trying to remember who ive seen reblog my jemily stuff before fjdksf sorry??#ALSO this took so long to do and GUESS WHAT i still dont really like it #i realized i didnt want colored text until it was Too Late so here we are #will i ever like anything i make?? probably not #im posting this at 6 am bc i dont care anymore gosh diddily DANG IT ill take the 10 notes and be happy I GUESS #*mine

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gayforspencerreid · 27 days

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remember that time reid saved the day by infodumping to a serial killer

#criminal minds #spencer reid #autism #scout says stuff

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criminalskies · 9 months

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Drunk Aaron (REPOSTING ON NEW ACCOUNT)

I have a thought!! What about drunk Aaron? Like I’ve had this thought before but I’m so obsessed with the idea of helping Aaron up the stairs after a really good night with the team and then trying to get his clothes off to get him dressed in his pjs. Then he swats at your hands and is like “No, n—no, I’m in a relationship! Stop tryin t’ undress me😣.” And then messing with him and going “you are? what are they like?” And he looks up with sparkles in his eyes and he’s like “s’ pretty 🤭🥰” and that’s when you laugh and you’re like “sweetheart, it’s me. You’re in a relationship with me, now let me get you dressed okay?” And he gets so confused at first but then starts blushing when you take his jacket and tie off and is like “you’re so pretty 🥰” while you get him dressed 😭❤️❤️ - request from @ssamorganhotchner <33333

i don't think you get it IM OBSESSED!

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You knew it was a bad idea the moment the team was able to convince Aaron to grab the mic and croon in karaoke. He was only four drinks in but the only way on was upwards. He very rarely cut loose like this, particularly in front of his employees, but he was having the most fun you'd seen him have in months. You stood by as Penelope and Prentiss bought him wet pussy shot after wet pussy shot until their usually very measured, very nuanced, well behaved boss became a party animal.

He had long since shed his tie and rolled up his sleeves, his hair was cascading over his face as he sweat from the exertion of ruling the dance floor for the last hour. You had no idea your Aaron could do the splitz until he dropped to the floor of the bar, pointing his hands directly in the air and howling as his legs splayed out completely.

You can't lie about how much his confidence and freedom was affecting you, but given that the two of you hadn't announced your relationship to the team yet, you were trying your hardest to keep your arousal at bay, or at least to pretend the drool on your face was from the alcohol you'd had, not from the way your boss had undone his top buttons, and his dress shirt was showing off his broad chest.

Speaking of your alcohol, you tried to keep your drinks to a minimum, wanting to be able to take Aaron home and make sure the two of you make it to bed in one piece.

Aaron came back to the table, dropping down into the sticky booth, he was panting with exhaustion from his dancefloor efforts. He reached for your lime & soda you'd been nursing, chugging the ice cold beverage down before you could muster an 'excuse me?' as you watched his chest heave and the vessels in his neck and arms pulsate with his heartbeat.

"You know, Hotchner I had no idea you were hiding moves like that from us." You tried keeping every bone in your body from wrapping yourself around him like you wanted to, as half your team was watching from across the booth.

"Well, I have a few more moves but those are reserved for very special people." Hotch smirked at you.

"Oh, yeah?" You couldn't resist his bait, knowing you were putty in his drunken hands.

"Yeah, I think my partner would kill me if I showed you my finer moves." He looked more at Dave and at Spencer than he did at you, and you realised he was too wasted to recognise said partner right in front of him. "How about another drink, Morgan? Spencerrrrrr." Aaron asked, narrowly avoiding putting the pretty boy in a headlock as he questioned the table, swinging off the post in the outer corner of the booth. The team turned him down, and he trudged off to the bar to get himself another something to cool down.

"Sheesh, I didn't know Hotch was seeing somebody. Sounds awfully mysterious, huh?" Morgan opened the conversation to pry into Hotch's love life.

"I don't know," Emily chimed in, "seems just like him to be scared to tell us about them. He's got a lot of walls up, I'm just glad he let somebody in. Even if he's not ready to share them with us yet."

The team all seemed to hum in agreement, deciding to leave it be as their boss came back to the table with a beer and a rum and coke in either hand.

He sat down beside you once more, pushing you the rum and coke as he seemed to have remembered who you are to him, and your go-to drink. You figured in the state he's in you probably have a maximum of one hour before he gives away your whole relationship in a spill of word vomit (hopefully not actual vomit, at least) so you decided to take control of the situation, and put your arm around him as he takes his seat. It seems to go mostly unnoticed by the team as Reid has delved into a tangent on the difference between binge-drinking and regular drinking with their respective effects on the brain.

"How you feeling there, cowboy?" You whispered to Aaron, trying to gauge how long he wanted to stay at the bar.

"Pretty great." Aaron replies, with that wide, toothy grin and eyes like he's been stargazing into your own. He rests his head on the palm of his hand, elbow to the table, still giving you a puppy-eyed stare as Reid's tangent comes to a close. The team turns back towards you two, seeing you giggle at Hotch's loving gaze. You love seeing him this loose, free of all his masks and personas he usually has to wear to keep himself and the team, his family, safe.

You catch Morgan in the corner of your eye as he elbows Prentiss, whispering in her ear, feeling all four of their eyes on you and your suddenly lovestruck boyfriend.

"You know, I think the jig is up." you inform Aaron. You see a concentrated look overtake his face at the word jig, and he begins pushing himself up off the table and over to the dance floor. He stops, reaching out his hand to you, first.

"Let's show them the real jig, then." He suggests. You take his hand cautiously and let him lead you out onto the dancefloor, where the two of you continue to bust a move even under the patronising stares of six criminal profilers. You let Aaron pull you around by your hands, your hips, letting the music carry you both through the night knowing you can deal with the questions later.

The music cuts out and one of Aaron's FAAAAVOURITE songs comes on (as he so eloquently shouted in your ear), prompting him to become the bounciest FBI agent you've ever laid eyes on, and he's jumping around like a box-spring until suddenly, he stills. He clutches his stomach, drops your hand and runs for the nearest bathroom stall. Poor thing, he really only drinks like this a few times a calendar year, and since losing weight in his triathlon training he's particularly prone to all the side-effects of excessive drinking, much more than he used to be.

You throw Rossi a pitiful look as he follows after his friend, muttering something about being too old for this. It's almost half an hour later when the two of them emerge, Aaron looking far worse for wear, draped over Rossi's presumably very expensive jacket. Morgan and Dave load Aaron into your car, with your promise that you'll answer all the team's burning questions about your newly revealed relationship in the morning. That is if you can get the unit chief out of bed by 12.

Aaron doesn't say a word on the drive home, clearly enjoying the sensation of the cool passenger window of your car against his burning cheek, and you think he's fallen asleep. Perfect. You get to unload your 200 pounds of boyfriend into your sixth floor apartment and his body is as limp as a raw hotdog.

You manage to open the car door without his body spilling out, which you count as a small success.

"Aaron, Aaron sweetheart, we're home." You stroke his cheek, feeling him nuzzle against your hand, before his eyes snap open and he bats your hand away.

"I'm n't your sweeth'rt I don't even know you." He looks at you through squinted eyes, clearly straining to stay awake.

"Alright, well, I'm gonna help you get home, if that's okay. Can you walk?" You fight every fibre in your body to not tack a 'sugarbear' on the end of that question, given how adorable he looks when he's this sleepy.

"I c'n run! Course I c'n walk." Perfect. Despite being about as structurally sound as a wet tortilla chip, he's still got his confidence, however misguided it may be.

"OK. Walk with me?" You pull his arm around your shoulders, trying to help lever him up out of the car. He trips every few steps and will definitely scowl at the horrid scuffed state of his favourite work shoes in the morning, but at least he's not faceplanting. Yet.

You manage to maneuvre him into the elevator, basically holding his body up against the wall of the small space. Once you arrive at the sixth floor, he has a few near-trips with the neighbours welcome mats getting caught beneath his shoes, but you finally arrive at your door.

"Stay here, okay, just one moment, baby just stay right there while I get our keys." You prop him up to the left side of your door, dropping your workbag on the table to the right so you can rummage for your keys when you hear a loud THUD.

The poor thing is in a ball on the floor, having slid down the wall and become just a pile of limbs and coat tails somewhere along the way.

"Shit." You find your keys, unlocking the door and throwing your bag onto the couch down the entryway before you even attempt to pick up your pile of boyfriend.

"Aaron, stay with me, please wake up I just need you to go inside, you can't sleep out here." You plead with him, hoping that just one lobe of his brain is functioning enough to hear you.

"Hrmmph." He replies in a sort of grunt. Wonderful, your pile of boyfriend has attitude. Luckily, you know just who could get him to stand at attention right now.

You clear your throat, aiming to make it sound older and croakier than your own. "SSA Hotchner, Attention!" You make one last-ditch appeal to the scared little boy inside of him who lived from army bootcamp to army bootcamp.

To your surprise, he starts rolling around trying to ascertain which was is up, and with your hands under his arms, he is able to stand back up. You walk him inside without a word, pushing him straight through to your bedroom before he can collapse and reoccupy his liquid form on the floor once more.

You grab his pyjamas, neatly folded atop his pillow as always, bringing them over with some socks for him to wear to bed.

He's managed to remain sitting up at the foot of the bed where you left him, and you decide now you definitely need to be his partner, not his tenth grade drill sergeant to achieve this.

"Aaron, sweetheart, put your arms up for me."

"No, I'm taken. I d'nt want any funny business w'you." He puts on an excellent pout, and you're proud of his resistance to someone's advances deep within your chest, but right now you really just need him to get over it until you can tuck him neatly into bed.

"Aaron, I know you're taken because it's me, Y/N. See?" You give a dramatic twirl, letting him look up at you through his lashes, but his eyes look emptier than usual. The lights are on, but almost nobody is home, nobody helpful anyway.

"Prove it." He challenges you.

"Well, would anybody but Y/N know that you still have your caterpillar stuffie from when you were three? Mister Tickles?" You hope he's in a conscious enough state to recall that Mister Tickles is in your shared wardrobe, nestled in between Aaron's winter coats.

"Okay, weirdo. No need t'get pers'nal" You laugh at Aaron trying to keep his cool although you clearly know even the things about him he hides from himself.

He reluctantly raises his arms, letting you remove his undershirt, replacing it with your favourite college tee that just fits him so much nicer than it fits you, and he lays down and lifts his hips, letting you remove his belt and slacks. He wolf whistles when you first start undoing his belt but you know you can't take advantage of him when he can't even recognise who you are without guidance. You slide on his Air-bud puppy pyjama pants Jack got him for his birthday, knowing he loved the movie as a boy. You then manage to slip socks on his feet and open up the blankets, pushing him into the open bed and tucking him in tightly. You leave to putter about the bedroom, doing your own nighttime routine before you come back to Aaron, placing blobs of his favourite moisturiser on his face, rubbing it in ever so gently, although he's practically snoring. You know how much he hates feeling like 'the life drains from his face' after a night out and how he will inevitably wake up with cold feet and dry eyes.

You admire his sleeping form, his long lashes shifting as his eyes peacefully drift in his sleep. You plant a kiss on his forehead before heading out to the kitchen to get him painkillers and a glass of water, knowing he'll need them. You also leave the toilet light on, letting it glow under the door so when he does inevitably get up for one last heave into the bowl, he'll be able to find his way in the dark.

You get into bed, worrying about what is to come from the team tomorrow, now knowing the two of you are together, and how you'll have to explain yourselves to Strauss and inevitably an internal review board or three. But as you look once more at Aaron's peaceful face, you notice that even after three hours of karaoke and dancing his heart out, he looks more rested and relaxed than he has in the years you'd known him. His frown lines making way for smile lines, and all of his walls he built around himself making room for one more. You know the two of you will be able to face whatever may be thrown your way.

As you look at the toilet light cascading under the door, illuminating the fibres of your plush carpeted room, you realise Aaron is your guiding light as well. That you wouldn't know home without him.

#i'm sorry guys i might be reposting a lot of old stuff like this that you've seen before but im just making it more accessible #please bear with me #rome’s wonderful moots! <3 #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader #hotch x gn!reader #hotch x gender neutral reader #drunk!hotch #the amazing morgan!

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iconsfinder · 4 months

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#matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler icons #icons matthew gray gubler #matthew gubler icons #matthew gray icons #icons #boys #boys icons #male icons #twitter stuff #twitter icons #criminal minds #dollface #king knight #dr spencer reid #spencer reid

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bouneilly · 6 months

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Why not post this ryuzaki doodle here as well !

#death note #ryuzaki death note #my art #adult swim became available on my tv a few weeks ago and guess what!!!!#I am now a biiiiiiit obsessed with death note #just a itty bit 🤏💦#I've always loved investigative series like criminal minds and csi so that's not surprising at all #though. I already have a pile of stuff I can't stop thinking about so.#ghhhhg yeah.#btw my favorite character till now is Ryuk <33 #I plan on drawing him soon but his design is quite intimidating to me…#but we'll see how it goes!!!!! ← we as in me and myself

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phefics · 4 months

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hiii idk if this is too weird of an ask but i just got knee surgery and i was wondering how you think spencer would be and act? tysm if you do write it and if not no problem 🤍

omg not weird at all!! wishing u a speedy recovery friend!! xx

spencer has had his fair share of injuries on the job, and has actually been shot in the knee in canon, so i feel like he'd really understand what you're going through.

he takes care of you and worries constantly. while he always refuses help and rest when he's hurt, he will not stand for you pushing your limits at all. when you try to insist you're alright, he says, "i'm a doctor" and when you argue that he isn't a medical doctor, he says, "that's irrelevant, sit back down" lol.

#sorry this is short i know nothing about knee surgery recovery time or anything lmfao and didnt wanna get too specific #just in case i got stuff wrong and made it like not relatable to u!!#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #cm hcs #ophelia’s hcs #💌 𝐈𝐍𝐁𝐎𝐗.

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milla984 · 6 months

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And in the Beginning...

Summary: after spending a day at D.C.’s most renowned multifandom convention Spencer and Garcia stop for a coffee. Spoiler alert - our fave Resident Genius dumps their order on Reader.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader (Reader is a sci-fi buff)

Category: fluff

TW/CW: swearing, mentions of food, some Star Wars-related talk

Word Count: 2k

Once again, a ginormous THANK YOU to @drgenius-reid for taking the time to beta-read the first draft (aka witnessing the horror)!

The following work is my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins' CM Meet Cute (or not) Challenge and is also part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

“Highlight of the day?! Jamie Hewlett signing my copy of The Cream of Tank Girl! In you face, Mr. 'Superman Can Fly'...!”

The woman carrying a Chinese paper umbrella rummaged through her purse to retrieve a wallet and pay at the coffee truck parked outside the convention center; stylish two-tone glasses matched the army green jumpsuit with a teddy bear patch on her right leg and the blue mandarin collar button-down shirt she was wearing, and her blond hair was tied up in a pair of small side buns.

The tall man beside her chuckled as he picked up two cups. “I don’t know if I should be more impressed or worried.”

“Why?! We made a deal and it’s perfect: he can have Sci-Fi-Gate, I’m keeping WashCon.”

“Sci-Fi-Gate has amazing Star Trek guests, though…”

A long and colorful scarf was wrapped around his neck and a deep red cravat necktie peeked out of the hem of a plaid design vest, combined with a single-breasted brown coat and a pair of grey pants.

“I can't believe you would really choose the Captains of the Enterprise panel over my emotional stability,” she frowned, paying zero attention to the cosplayer in a trenchcoat with a pair of black wings attached to their back she was about to brush past.

When the feathers smacked her cheek she pulled back, the tips of her umbrella almost poking the tall guy dressed as Doctor Who in the eye; the sudden movement startled the cosplayer and a rapid swing of their dark wings created a commotion in the crowd of people waiting for their turn to order. In the confusion that followed, a random shoulder bumped into yours and pushed you out of the line and off the sidewalk, right in front of the Fourth Doctor - who was struggling to maintain his Fedora in place and watch where he was going at the same time.

Needless to say, he ended up failing at both.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” the blond woman asked.

“I’m so sorry, SO SO SORRY—” the tall guy apologized simultaneously and she cut him off, rushing to your side.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

The frantic exchange prompted your brain to whoosh into light speed mode to elaborate and discharge the ‘Ah, shit!!’ and ‘wait… is this iced macchiato?!?!’ inputs in favor of a more suitable reaction at the sight of the considerable amount of caffeine soaking your hoodie.

“... I think I’m okay.”

“First-aid manuals suggest removing all clothes or jewelry near the affected area within moments after the spillage of a hot liquid,” the tall guy said, and the woman gasped in shock.

“Please tell me you didn’t get burned! Once I got this non-fat steamed white chocolate vani—”

“I’m fine,” you growled a bit.

Someone behind you was snickering and, despite the relief of not having sustained serious injuries, the attention was already making you feel uncomfortable.

“Scalds are caused by sources of humid heat and certain types of fibers retain the water, which can be responsible for additional damage to the skin,” the tall guy explained again, speaking faster than anyone you had ever heard.

You tucked your shirt in your jeans and raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Let me guess: you’re a doctor.”

“Well… uhm, yes, this is my…” he faltered, unable to tell if you were referencing his costume as a pun or not. “I am, actually.”

“Not that kind of doctor,” the woman added.

She sighed as soon as she realized you were standing there speechless, drenched in coffee, your gaze wandering back and forth between them. “I’m so sorry…”

“They should be more careful with the lids. I think I got lucky,” you muttered through gritted teeth as you pulled the zip down.

Thanks to the decision to splurge some money on yourself, earlier on, you had something to replace your soiled hoodie with. The Fourth Doctor looked away and focused his attention on the cups he was still holding in his hands; before he threw them in the nearest trashcan he inspected their content, confirming he’d fortunately spilled on you a combination of 98% half-caf iced caramel macchiato and just 2% regular hot americano.

The woman was still clasping the handle of her umbrella. “Listen, we were about to check out this itsy-bitsy lovely Indian place ‘round the corner, maybe you should come with us. You know… to try and get cleaned up a little.”

You dug into the shopping bag at your feet, taking a sealed package out to rip the plastic film wrapped around a brown sweatshirt with a stylized front print of the panoramic view of the desert, Jabba the Hutt’s palace and twin suns on Tatooine, and put it on.

“No offense, but my parents taught me to never follow strangers.”

“None taken,” the tall guy replied, “they were absolutely right. According to the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System, about 90,000 individuals are reported missing in the U.S. every year and the National Institute of Justice estimates that approximately 4,400 unidentified bodies are recovered annually.”

For the second time in less than five minutes, you considered the possibility he could truly be from Gallifrey. You also wondered if he was aware of his perfect facial structure: everything about his demeanor indicated he wasn’t too skilled in the art of charming people using his sculpted jawline and lean figure.

“... do you always quote statistics about murders and kidnappings like it’s a casual topic of conversation?”

His eyes got even bigger, showing a hint of gold on the inside. “It was merely an observation—”

“Yeah, he… does that,” the woman came to his rescue, “and even if it sounds bad, trust me it’s- it's part of his job. Our job. Except, I don’t deal with the scary, disturbing, yucky stuff.”

Your question wasn’t meant to come out in such a sarcastic tone. “You’re cops?!”

“FBI. Tech Analyst and Behavioral Analysis Unit,” she explained, and the tall guy waved a silent greeting at you.

Even though the chance of running into the Bureau personnel stationed in D.C., at some point, wasn’t unreasonable, ‘two FBI agents walk into a multifandom convention dressed as characters from sci-fi TV shows’ could have easily been the beginning of a bad joke.

Plus, it was hard to picture the Fourth Doctor as a G-Man. “What’s your Ph.D. in, exactly?”

“I have a Ph.D. in Mathematics. And Chemistry, and Engineering. And I hold BAs in Psychology, Sociology and Philosophy.”

“Google him. Spencer Reid, B-A-U,” the woman suggested after a short pause, in response to your skeptical expression.

Judging by her tone she was daring you to, as if the situation wasn’t already giving off major The Twilight Zone vibes… and yet, instead of bidding them an unenthusiastic farewell, you pulled out your phone to type his name.

A plethora of results popped on the screen seconds later, so you first clicked on the link titled BAU’s newest member.

“With three doctorate degrees from Caltech already, and a staggering IQ of 187 as well as an eidetic memory there is no psychological exam or test the FBI could put in front of him he could not ace,” the piece said about newly-recruited Spencer Reid.

“When I ask why he chose Caltech over MIT and Stanford, he quickly runs down a list of Professors he had a desire to study with. He makes no mention of the weather or girls,” an older article reported.

You skipped through at least a dozen mentions of SSA Reid’s outstanding performances in the field, then a PDF document, property of the California Institute of Technology, caught your interest and you read the title aloud.

“Identifying non-obvious relationship—”

“Non-obvious relationship factors using cluster-weighted modeling and geographic regression,” he recited by heart, “that's my Engineering dissertation.”

He was too prepared on the subject and too adorably peculiar to be an impostor posing as a genius FBI agent for kicks, during the weekend; you picked his Fedora off the ground as a peace offering.

“Seems like you’re a wunderkind, Doctor Reid.”

Spencer lowered his chin so he could mask the rush of blood to his cheeks and his friend giggled, gently linking arms with you.

“Now, there’s something relevant we need to discuss, pronto… how do you feel about veg biryani?”

An hour and a half proved to be all the time you needed to form a solid conviction that Spencer Reid going on a spiel about the original blueprints of a fictional space station was the best thing since sliced bread.

“It’s part of the iconic imagery Lucas wanted to establish, there’s no health and safety. And don’t forget it was originally designed by the Geonosians.”

You snorted at the mention of the classic ‘designed by a flying alien species’ argument. “That’s not an excuse! Even if the Geonosians designed it, they knew it was meant to be used by humanoid creatures.”

After leaving the restaurant, where you had insisted on paying for your share - much to Garcia's dismay, you’d walked back to the convention center’s parking lot and now you were waiting by your car for Penelope to get hers. As you had recently discovered, she loved mugs, old Italian movies and playing the ukulele; Spencer wasn’t as outgoing and chatty, especially about his private life, but Star Wars was for sure one of his numerous areas of expertise.

“TIE fighters don’t have a proper defense system and the original prototype even lacked structural integrity to support atmospheric flight. The Empire doesn't care about casualties, it’s safe to think they never bothered to install a guardrail or other appropriate safety measures because to them the Death Star technicians are expendable.”

“Okay… solid theory,” you admitted, making him smile as he wiped his forehead to get rid of a lock of curly hair.

“Thank you. It’s nice to have a discussion with someone who knows about the Geonosians. Or the Death Star. It only happened twice but I’ve had people asking me what that was.”

When the convertible Cadillac with a plastic Hawaiian lei tied to the rear-view mirror stopped inches from you, Garcia - behind the steering wheel - proudly gestured at the extension of her eccentric personality.

“Meet Esther. Isn’t she fab?”

You wolf whistled your appreciation, gliding your fingertips over the leather upholstery and orange body paint. “Quick question: how much do you think I’d get if I sued two FBI agents for… damages, let’s say?!”

Penelope produced a fluffy pen out of the glove compartment and scribbled something on the back of a PetMAC receipt she handed it to you.

“Sweet pea, if I were you I'd settle for a lifetime of free IT support.”

“I’ll take it,” you said, “I’m kind of tired of being bullied by my own laptop.”

She stared at you for a moment before her face lit up, like a girl on a trip to a four-story candy shop. “... have you ever been to Baltimore ComicCon?!” she asked out of the blue while Spencer plopped himself down on the passenger seat.

You shook your head. “Do you guys—”

“We should totally go together!!” Garcia proposed. Or rather, declared.

In all honesty, the prospect of attending another convention on your own was depressing and you’d given up on the one in Maryland for that specific reason; you turned to Spencer for his approval, too, and he nodded, maybe because he knew there was no way of stopping Garcia if she had her mind set on a specific goal.

“Baltimore it is, then…?!”

Penelope shot you a smug grin. “Keep in touch. We still owe you a nice dinner and ComicCon’s not up until September, I’d hate to run a background check on your license plate to find you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the idea and saluted them goodbye as they drove off, Esther’s taillights shining bright red.

What a weird Saturday. Meeting a real life genius and the quirkiest FBI agent ever came with a price, and one of your favorite hoodies was most likely beyond salvaging. You needed to know if Spencer Reid was well worth it.

Garcia’s words then echoed in your ears, so you sat in your car and unlocked your phone, scrolling through the most recent Google searches: you had a lot of reading to do.

@matthew-gray-gubler-lover, @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid, @pretty-boys-book-club, @spookydrreid, @f-me-reid, @foxy-eva, @scorpiofangirl1109, @a-potato-wearing-plaid, @cynbx, @reidsbookclub, @nagemasstuff, @hotchsdharma, @reidmainbitch, @lizzylynch1, @will-grahams-eyes, @padawancat97

»»»— read pinned post for taglist info —«««

#spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid x reader #my gifs #milla writes stuff #mentioningmargins #there are references from a couple of other tv shows hidden in this work #feel free to let me know if you can find them #quot “i understood that reference”

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