hi !! my name is kae or jamie, and this is my criminal minds sideblog :) my main is @teawan! a few things about me:
i'm a fanfic writer (teawan on ao3), so feel free to drop ideas for drabbles/fics in my askbox! i can't guarantee anything, but i might write a couple hundred words for anything that catches my fancy [winks badly]
i'm not completely through with the series yet--i'm currently working my way through season 6 (so no spoilers pls!!!)
please never hesitate to send asks, i love those things and will do everything in my power to respond to each and every one of them <3
all my blogs are a safe space for everyone--whether you're queer (which i am!), a poc (also me), neurodivergent, etc
that's it for now! i'm so excited to join the cm community and meet all you wonderful people :D
summary: sometimes, you take things a little too literally. this can be both a blessing and a curse. in terms of your first meeting with spencer reid, you're not sure what to call it.
notes: based on the prompt "give me Spencer Reid telling reader, who is very literal about most things, its safer to kiss on the lips than to shake hands while introducing themselves at the Bureau for his first day and Spencer gets so surprised when he does kiss him." the reader is not gendered specifically in the actual piece, though (no pronouns or gendered anatomical language), so read as you please! this is also my first reader-insert so if you could give me some feedback, i'd appreciate it greatly :)
read on ao3
“And here’s your desk,” Agent Hotchner finishes, stopping at an unoccupied seat, the only unoccupied seat, within a quad. Two of the three taken spaces are void of their people at the moment, but at the seat across from yours, you can just see the top of a head, bent over in concentration, peeking out from over the divider between the two workspaces.
“Got it,” you nod, setting down your armload of things. “Thank you, sir.”
Hotchner dips his chin in acknowledgement, and although he doesn’t smile, his voice isn’t unkind when he tells you, “You’re welcome. I’m happy to have you here with us, and I think I speak for my whole team when I say that we’re looking forward to seeing what you bring to the table.”
“Speaking of the rest of the team,” you start hesitantly before he turns to leave. He pauses, raising an eyebrow as he waits for you to finish. “Will I get a chance to meet them before our first case? I’m hoping to at least introduce myself before we see any dead bodies, no matter how interesting a first meeting that would make.” You wince and watch Agent Hotchner’s face carefully. The joke had just slipped out—you tend to run your mouth when you’re nervous, but the unit chief doesn’t seem to be the kind of person to appreciate your impulsive wit.
To your relief, you aren’t kicked out of the building. You allow yourself a brief, silent exhale of the breath you’d been holding—you had not wanted a repeat of The Incident of 2006. Instead, your boss looks at you for a moment, considering, before his gaze flicks away to something behind you. “I’m sure you’ll see them around soon enough. In the meantime, why don’t you and Agent Reid get acquainted?”
Ah. So not something—someone. Agent Hotchner had been referring to the owner of the head you had seen a few moments earlier. The person in question doesn’t seem to have noticed that his boss is looking at him expectantly. He’s still bent down over something that you can’t see, deep in his own world.
The unit chief clears his throat. “Reid?” he says again pointedly. Finally, the other man manages to tear himself away from his work, gaze leaving the papers he’s been writing on a split second after his head.
“Yeah?” he answers absentmindedly, eyes finally making their way up to see who’d been calling him. He’s young, mid-twenties at most, and lean, not built like many of the men you’ve worked with in the past. Curly chestnut hair sweeps across his forehead, a couple of the unruly strands sticking out at the nape of his neck. You resolutely ignore the urge to finger-comb the fluffy-looking locks. That would be absolutely inappropriate and more than unprofessional.
His eyes, the color of earl gray tea that’s been steeped until it’s just on the darker side, are warm when they lock on yours. He looks down hurriedly, hands twisting in his lap seemingly unconsciously. “Oh, hello. I assume you’re the new recruit? I’m Reid. Doctor Reid.” He’s speaking fast, clearly stumbling a little bit. “Um. Well, you don’t have to call me doctor. Agent Reid is fine. Or—or just Reid! Spencer Reid. Yeah, that’s me.” He looks up at you again for a second, an anxious twist to his mouth, and you feel simultaneously endeared and empathetic. You’ve been in his position all too many times before, tripping over your own words in front of a new acquaintance. In fact, you’d done that just this morning when you’d come face-to-face with Agent Hotchner, nearly dropping your box of things as you stammered out a greeting. In your defense, the man was intimidating. That was probably why he made such a good FBI agent.
Anyway, that’s beside the point. You smile at him, trying to put him at ease as you introduce yourself, giving Agent (Doctor?) Reid your name and holding out a hand over the divider. He’s stood up as well over the course of your short conversation so that the two of you are about a foot and a half apart, and you notice that he has a couple inches on you. It isn’t surprising—he looks the long and lanky type.
However, Dr. Spencer Reid decidedly does not take your proffered hand, instead looking down at it, held in between the two of you, like you’ve just offered him a whole stick of butter. Not disgusted, per se, but hesitant and doubtful, like he’s figuring out how to politely reject the metaphorical dairy product. You lick your lips, a nervous tic. You’ve never been great at meeting new people, and this doesn’t seem to be heading in the right direction. With your luck, you’ve just made a grievous error in the Unspoken Code of Social Interaction and now your new colleague will never want to speak to you again.
Agent Reid clears his throat uncomfortably, bringing you out of your despairing rumination. Your hand is still hovering uncertainly in the space between the two of you. “Actually, did you know that the number of pathogens passed through a mere handshake is astonishing?” Evidently, he’s a hand-talker—his long-fingered hands have been brought up together, gesturing vaguely as he speaks to you.
“Um,” you put in, but he plows on.
“It’s technically safer to kiss someone,” he finishes, glancing at you again to see your reaction.
Oh. You furrow your eyebrows. Well, it’s not a conventional greeting, but to each their own. Hopefully this will make up for whatever faux pas you’ve committed. Shrugging internally, you step forward and press your mouth to Dr. Reid’s, eyes falling half-lidded.
His lips are slightly chapped and taste faintly of coffee. You keep your tongue firmly to yourself—after all, this is just a greeting—but after half a second you realize that his mouth is hanging open, not to receive the kiss, but agape with shock.
What?
Wait a minute. A terrible realization dawns on you and you stumble backward, breaking the very much one-sided kiss. Agent Reid—Spencer—is staring at you, doe eyes wide and face abloom with a fiery blush.
You lick your lips again, but this time, you can taste the fading memory of your colleague’s mouth. Your voice is faint when you manage to speak again, low and husky with embarrassment. “Um. It just occurred to me that I may have taken that a little too literally.”
A wolf whistle breaks the stunned silence that ensues, and you whip your head around, feeling your face heat up.
“First day here and you’re already pulling moves on our resident genius. Who would’ve guessed?” A group of three other people have just arrived in the bullpen: a muscular Black man, a blonde woman, and a woman dressed sharply in a dark-blue blazer. Fuck, you think, but the man, the one who’d spoken, is grinning gleefully as his eyes dart between you and your new…acquaintance. The two women behind him wear expressions of shock, amusement and disbelief warring on their faces.
The dark-haired one raises an eyebrow. “Is that what the young people are doing these days? And here I was thinking I was still hip and cool.”
“It’s—it’s not—,” you stammer, not daring to look at Spencer.
“Welcome aboard, agent,” the man says, striding across the room. He looks you up and down, assessing you, before sticking out a hand. “I’d prefer a handshake, if that’s alright with you. My name’s Derek Morgan.”
Trying to regain your composure, you take his hand and let him shake it once, twice, in a firm grip. Unable to resist, you shoot a glance back at Reid. The other man is still standing stock-still where you’d left him, but he’s touching his lips with the fingertips of his right hand like he’s trying to ground himself. There’s no disgust or anger in his face; on the contrary, there’s a look of dizzy surprise, and somehow, he seems almost…pleased. Uncertainly so, but unless you’re mistaken, there’s a glimmer of delight in those big brown eyes.
It’s not real, you tell yourself, trying to focus on introducing yourself to Agents Morgan, Prentiss, and Jareau. You’re imagining things. That was completely unacceptable and you must apologize as soon as possible.
But you can’t suppress the warmth bubbling up within your ribcage when you think back to Dr. Reid’s face when you’d stepped away, flushed and dazed, the way his head had cocked ever so slightly like a confused puppy.
Maybe you hadn’t made a complete mess of your first meeting with Spencer Reid after all.
Give me Spencer Reid telling reader, who is very literal about most things, its safer to kiss on the lips than to shake hands while introducing themselves at the Bureau for his first day and Spencer gets so surprised when he does kiss him.
if you've seen my last post you know that i'm going to try and write a reader-insert fic for the first time (a spencer reid one inspired by @rottingkisses's prompt) !!
i wanted to do a quick survey just to determine what people prefer in a self-insert fic before i actually start writing anything. pls reblog for sample size, as this will be useful for me in the future as well ! :)
what pov do you prefer in reader-insert fics?
second person (you, your), y/n used
third person (they, them, he, him, she, her), y/n used
first person (i, me, my), y/n used
second person (you, your), no y/n used
third person (they, them, he, him, she, her), no y/n used
first person (i, me, my), no y/n used
other (add in tags/comment!)
see results
Voting ended onApr 19, 2023
(to clarify, "y/n used" means that the term "y/n" is actually present in the writing, as in "'y/n?' he asked.")
if you've seen my last post you know that i'm going to try and write a reader-insert fic for the first time (a spencer reid one inspired by @rottingkisses's prompt) !!
i wanted to do a quick survey just to determine what people prefer in a self-insert fic before i actually start writing anything. pls reblog for sample size, as this will be useful for me in the future as well ! :)
what pov do you prefer in reader-insert fics?
second person (you, your), y/n used
third person (they, them, he, him, she, her), y/n used
first person (i, me, my), y/n used
second person (you, your), no y/n used
third person (they, them, he, him, she, her), no y/n used
first person (i, me, my), no y/n used
other (add in tags/comment!)
see results
Voting ended onApr 19, 2023
(to clarify, "y/n used" means that the term "y/n" is actually present in the writing, as in "'y/n?' he asked.")
Give me Spencer Reid telling reader, who is very literal about most things, its safer to kiss on the lips than to shake hands while introducing themselves at the Bureau for his first day and Spencer gets so surprised when he does kiss him.
anyone w found family bau recs please please please hook me up 🙏🙏 I would love anything with hotch/rossi being parents but I will take anything!! I'm desperate
I'm not even going to lie I lost it when hotch just fucking strolled into the house past the fully armed swat team. no bulletproof vest. suit jacket off. bro really said "yall doing too much"
have you seen the ep when he starts threatening the guy and starts to take his jacket off??????? I won't say much but like fr man has me in a headlock im so
I'm not even going to lie I lost it when hotch just fucking strolled into the house past the fully armed swat team. no bulletproof vest. suit jacket off. bro really said "yall doing too much"
