#mggs hands

[reidshand]

mggs arms.

[cumulo-stratus]

god mggs hands will be the god damn death of me

[t1red-twilight]

hands

summary: mgg hand appreciation post

content/warnings: gn!reader, suggestive, mdni, fluff, semi-public makeout, hair pulling, cursing

notes: wrote about this in a headcannons post, and a commenter supported the notion of me writing more of it🙈

word count: 0.5k

masterlist s. r. masterlist

the way spencer was kissing you could be described with one word: hungry.

he was very passionately kissing you in an empty meeting room in the fbi office building. it was after hours, so there was less of a worry of being walked in on.

he smelled more musky than usual, and you could hear his little whines and moans when you would do something that he liked.

you tried so hard to be more perceptive of what he was doing and how you could make this a pleasurable experience for him as well, but you could not focus.

and while you were very invested in the way that he was kissing you, the way he was grabbing and pulling at you had you breathless.

it had started with him holding your face rather gently. his hands were so large, and they practically encompassed your face. they were covering your cheeks and part of your jaw and his thumbs were resting on your cheekbones.

he had stared at you while holding you like this before he pulled you in. and while he was always gentle and sensitive, he was always heated and intense.

his left hand moved back into your hair and he tightened his grip ever so slightly. this caused you to gasp into his mouth and he smiled into the kiss as a response. his right hand moved to the place where your neck met your collarbone.

his mouth moved to the opposite side of your neck, where he began sucking lightly. although, you could only pay attention to his hands.

you took your left hand and grabbed his right one from off of your neck and laced your fingers together. you marveled at how large they were. the veins on the back were delicious looking.

he noticed that your mind was elsewhere, and he looked up at your face.

not stopping what he was doing with his mouth, he noticed your gaze and traced it back to his hand. he smiled again, and pulled away.

he moved back to your face and gave you one kiss before pulling away.

“distracted?” he kissed you another time.

you hummed before responding with, “uh-”

he cut you off by kissing you again. now that he was apparently aware of your admiration for his hands, he used it to his advantage.

he placed his hand that was in your hair on your waist and pulled you as close as he possibly could. he pushed the hand that was still laced with yours up against the wall.

your free hand scratched against the fabric of his shirt on his back. you gasped into the kiss as he massaged the flesh of your waist with his hand. he squeezed your hand with his other very slightly at the same time.

you let out little noises every time he would prod you with his hands. in a way, you felt like a loaf of bread being kneaded.

the cat was out of the bag, no matter how much you could try to hide it.

–

“so, hands, huh?”

“shut the fuck up.”

[reidsdimples]

Like Puzzle Pieces

18+ ❤️‍🔥 MDNI ‼️

Spencer Reid x Reader

no plot, just spice (who’s surprised) 🤣

“You can do it baby,” Spencer exhales.

He grips your hips as you hover over him, trying desperately to sink down on his cock despite the aching stretch you felt. Your legs shake and the delicious sensation of being too full, too stretched out mixed with a dull ache.

You whimper and jerk upward with your fingers curled in his hair as the pain intensifies.

Spencer had warned you of this. His… girth mixed with his impressive length was challenging for most of his partners to take. You were determined, however, despite his protests that you didn’t have to.

“Do you want to stop?” He asks gently as he cradles your cheek in his large hand. You pout your bottom lip out.

“No, I want it. I want you,” you frown.

“I know,” he pauses for a moment. “Lay on your back, we’ll try missionary.”

“We probably should have tried that first,” you admit. It was you who insisted gravity would help and you just HAD to ride him. He argued that missionary allowed you to relax more. Hopefully he was right.

He moves on top of you and nuzzles his nose into your neck, inhaling slowly and planting kisses there. You run your hands up the planes of his body and moan against the sensation of his cock rubbing upward between your folds.

He bares his narrow hips downward, inching into you with cruel slowness. Still you gasp, your walls stretching as they try to accommodate him. This time though it feels more delicious, more sinful, less painful to open up for him.

The gasp he lets out is like floating in space, breathy uncontrolled. It’s unreal, having him like this. Where at work he’s the picture of control, logic, wit. Here he’s a panting mess as you take that final inch of him. Your swear he’s in your stomach and you moan his name.

“So so good,” he shudders.

“You like that I can take all of your cock, Dr.Reid?” You purr and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Your fingers twist into his hair as he works his way in and out of you again.

He mutters an incoherent answer and buries his face in your neck. Your pull you knees up higher, giving him an angel to get deeper. You think time stops when he obliges and pushes himself down into your core. Fuck.

“Look,” he grips your jaw and turns your head so you can the reflection in the mirror.

The way his muscles flex as he thrusts into you? Your legs dutifully moving to wrap around his waist, his hair falling around you. You want to paint the image into a masterpiece, one to rival the greats. The beauty of him inside of you is unreal, its art. Fantasizing about it didn’t do it justice.

The sight has your heart racing, your pulse chasing your orgasm to the edges of eternity while he makes certain to hit that spot inside of you.

And when he moans your name?

You’re done.

Cosmos explode in your vision your nails dig into his back and your legs tighten around him, trying to keep his hard cock inside as you pulse and come apart. He shudders at the sensation, exhaling open mouthedly as you capture him and force him to still inside of you as your finish rupturing.

Chills shoot over your skin, goosebumps left in the wake of your orgasm and you can’t even see straight. A simple Spencer shaped blur above you. But he starts moving again, pulling something like a pleasure laced cry from your chest.

“You fit me so well,” he huffs. He’s right, you were scared at first but now it’s like the two of you are puzzle pieces, destined to connect.

He feels amazing, you can’t escape the feel of him as if he’s touching every part of your insides. It’s delicious, it’s torturous, it’s perfect. But you can’t imagine ever not feeling this full, how could you adjust again to not having him within you?

Your nails claw down his back, causing him to suck air through his teeth as he murmurs a string of praises and you’re climbing again. Climbing toward that peak, towards him.

His hands grip your heart, wrenching your head back slightly. Those damned hands…

You lose sight of reality as your second orgasm threatens to take you and he’s close to it wouldn’t it be perfect if…

“Spencer!” It takes you by surprise.

Your orgasm rolls violently through you, a malevolent being conquering your existence. Then you feel him tense, hear that moan, that string of whimpers, then he’s pumping into you. You feel his warm cum filling you and it’s so delicious mixed with the way you’re soaking him. His groin, his stomach, his hips, his bed, all coated in you.

He looks down at the mess and exhales a small laugh in awe. You try to catch your breath and cover your face in embarrassment, your cheeks burning.

“Hey,” he implores in a gentle voice as he moves your hands.

“Don’t hide from me. I want everything you have to offer,” a devilish grin plays on his lips and he leans down to kiss you.

[prettyboyweather]

i am staring respectfully…

[matthewsgreybubbles]

I know I've built my tiktok fyp brick by brick when I reached the Spencer Reid's hands edits.

It took me 5 years to get through it but I made it.

[forevermoreale]

Who else has an unhealthy obsession with Spencer’s hands 👀🙋🏻‍♀️

[bucker3911]

i- i couldn't pick one picture so uh..this became a photo dump.

[honey-flustered]

Kinktober Day 17: Writing On Skin + Thigh Humping + Frottage

Roommate!Spencer Reid x Chubby!Fem!Reader

Warnings: writing on skin, thigh f*cking, dry humping (frottage), spencer is a sexy lil shit, brief moment of insecurity, lowkey highkey hand kink, kinda phone/keep quiet sex

Summary: Did your roommate just use you like you’re…a piece of paper? And why does it make you want him to tear into you?

You yawn, outstretching your arms as you exit your bedroom towards the kitchen when you’re startled by a frantic Spencer. He’s on the phone, pacing back and forth in the living room. He perks up at your presence as he mouths and hand gestures for you to find him a pen.

You hurriedly do so, pressured by the urgency. Rummaging through the drawers in the kitchen, you find anything but a pen. You raise your pointer finger in the air, remembering you’d left a permanent marker on the coffee table from your late-night studying session yesterday. Rushing over to hand it over to him, you feel accomplished. But then he sends you a look of indifference, so you shoot him back with a look of displeasure.

“Paper?” He whisper-yells.

“When ya give a mouse a cookie…” You quip but he’s not time for your sassy behavior.

“Just a second, sir.” Spencer says into the phone and before you know it, he’s spinning you around so your back’s facing him.

“Hey! What are you—”

“Shh!” He harshly commands and it all happens so smoothly that you barely have time to process it at all. Bending you over the arm of the couch, his hand swiftly unlatches your bra while the other lifts the back of your shirt up and over your head.

“Ready!” Spencer says confidently and you squeal at the feather touch of the marker gliding along your back.

For a moment, insecurity settles and you tense. He’s seen your naked back countless times before in some backless tops and dresses you’ve worn. But this felt…intimate. Especially when his hands would occasionally rest on the folds in your back to use as both support and to keep you from squirming.

Spencer provides you a reassuring touch, sliding his free hand up and down one side of your back for a moment before giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. It’s fleeting motion but you register it, melting away your anxieties as you allow yourself to indulge in the sensations he’s giving you.

God, you’ve stared at those hands on many occasions, worried he’d someday catch you. And admittedly, you’ve fantasized about them around your throat while alone in your bedroom. But now here they are touching a surprisingly sensitive part of you.

Spencer glues his hips against your voluptuous backside and you feel the familiar throb and line of heat against your thin shorts. You wiggle yourself back against him, smacking around his clothed large member between your plush globes. You look back in time to see him biting his lip as he tried desperately to concentrate on writing and not making a sound that would give you both away.

He does a particular thing with the marker where it traces down your spine and into the dip in your lower back that makes you shiver. Licking then biting your lips as if savoring the pleasure on your tongue, you quietly mewl.

He’s becoming impatient, slowly humping your ass until his cock slips between your plush thighs. You gush in the way he grips the back of your neck for leverage, giving a thrust you swear you can feel prodding the soaked lining of your pants. You close your legs around him, fearing that he’d just might enter you through your clothes and you’d certainly end up being too loud.

He fucks his hardened cock through the enclosed space, nails digging into your skin and trailing down your back at how good you feel.

“Yes, yes, yes,” He says into the phone though you know it’s meant for you. “Perfect. I’ll be there right away.”

He punctuates his last note entry into your skin then ends the call. He recaps the marker, tossing it somewhere before he’s creeping over your back to place wet kisses on your supple skin.

“You were perfect,” He whispers. “I wouldn’t mind using you as my canvas again, painting you beautiful with my love.”

He drags his teeth along your shoulder before whispering in your ear, making you arch into him. “Have you ever considered getting a tattoo?”

[reidmoony-toast]

I will literally NEVER shut up about this picture

Like the hand?!??!? The ring??? The fit??? The hair???? THE FACE?!?!? LIKE I GO FERAL ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY PLEASE HELP

[zombgube-g1rl]

dear dr reid, please come investigate this pussy

[reidshand]

SPENCER REIDS HANDS IN EVERY EPISODE

“THE INSTINCTS” - 4.06 1/?

[reiderwriter]

hi i love your writing

could you do something with reid loving that reader is pregnant. fluff or smut or both

A/N Hello! Thanks for the request! Dad!Spencer is the cutest thing on the planet so this is some unapologetic fluff. And now I have baby fever.

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, idiots in love. Loosely based on Haley and Hotch's conversation in 1x1. Very fluffy and probably very cheesy and sentimental too... Sorry, you give me girl dad Spencer and suddenly there isn't an impure thought in my head, I just want to lovingly stare at him like I'm the dead wife in an action movie montage.

My requests are open, check out my masterlist for more 🌸

“Okay, what about Amelia?”

“No, Amelia Dyer, Victorian serial killer. She killed multiple infants over a thirty-year period.”

“Okay, okay, how about, Myra?”

“Myra Hindley, she and her partner Ian Brady abducted and killed five children and teens in the early sixties.”

“God, not that then. There can’t be a psychopathic murderer called Belle, right?”

“You’re making this too easy for me, y’know. Belle Gunness, Hell’s Belle, she’s one of the most prolific female serial killers of all time, even 100 years after her supposed death. It’s fascinating, you know, people think that she actually faked her death - when the doctor who performed the postmortem testified, he noted that the cadaver was about five inches shorter and about fifty pounds lighter than Gunness supposedly was….” You raise a single eyebrow at your wonderful husband, and he immediately shuts up.

“I’m rambling aren’t I?” He smiled down at you as you sat curled up as much as you could in your favorite spot on the couch, the cosiest part of your shared apartment. You smiled back up at him as he leaned down for a kiss and you gladly craned your neck up in response, meeting his lips for a sweet moment.

“Hotch was right you know,” you joked when the two of you parted. “All of the best baby names have been taken by serial killers.”

“Yeah, you’d think with the ratio of female to male serial killers, a girl would be easier to name.” He leans down to kiss you again before falling into a crouch next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and placing his hand on your stomach.

“How big did you say our little girl is now?”

“Y/N, you asked me that half an hour ago. I know pregnancy messes with your brain a bit, but if you’re that bad we’re going to have to get you back to Dr Patel and see if you’re doing okay.” He was joking of course, but you showed him your little pout anyway, knowing that he loved seeing the silly expression on your face.

“Humor me, Doctor.” He strokes your stomach and moves away, but not too far away, taking up right next to you on the couch, and pulling your legs over his lap.

“At five months, she’s roughly 10 inches long with a weight of about 0.5-1 pound. But that ‘How Big is My Baby’ book would say that she’s roughly one banana in length.” You giggled up at him and he grabbed your hand and just held it, content to have you in his arms in any way, big or small.

“I can’t believe it’s been five months already,” you giggle as he presses another kiss to your hand.

“I get it. It doesn’t feel quite real yet to me, either. I thought for so long that fatherhood just wasn’t in my future, but you’re the gift that keeps on giving I guess. I don't know what I did to deserve you.” Even if the words weren’t so sweet, with all of the hormones, you would’ve started crying at anything. Or at least that’s what you’re going to tell him when he sees the small tears threatening to drop into enormous loving sobs.

“Spencer Reid, I am not a gift. I am simply the woman with the correct combination of sense and foolish luck that got to marry you.” He’d done this before, and you were used to his small habit of self-deprecating talk, but after a year of marriage and three years of dating before that, you’d managed to work him down to the occasional comment.

“Don’t try to argue about this, I’m definitely the one benefitting the most from the situation right now,” he joked with you, and you could see the genuine adoration shining from behind his eyes. It was a little spark that not many got to see, a glimpse of true happiness in someone usually so reserved.

“Spencer, you’ve given me foot rubs everyday this week, you’ve read more pregnancy and parenting books than every OBGYN and midwife in the area combined, and you’ve somehow attended more of my clinical check-ups than me, and I’m the one whose pregnant.”

“And you’re growing our child inside of you, which is itself more impressive than anything I could ever do with a book and some modern acts of chivalry.”

“Yeah, tell your boss that. I think the only thing keeping Emily from pulling her hair out over your constant absences is that she thinks she’s competing for the title of godmother. She thinks Penelope and JJ are trying to corrupt me with parenting advice and all those baby clothes Pen keeps bringing over.”

“She’s going to be crushed when she remembers we’re not religious, right?”

“Devastated,” the two of you shared a laugh on the couch, and it quickly devolved into a giggle fit after Spencer leaned over and tickled your side. You jolted away from his touch, but he was on you again, attacking your sides with small caresses, and you were gasping for breath between laughs.

“Spence stop- ahh!” Your squeals stopped as you cried out in shock. It was small but you felt something tap against your stomach. Spencer stopped immediately upon seeing your expression change, and a serious look settled on him as he assessed you for any damage.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you in pain anywhere, is the baby okay?” He shot out the questions rapidly, one after the other, barely leaving space to catch his own breath from the laughter of earlier.

It happened again and you put a hand to your stomach, finally realising what’s going on.

“I think I just felt her kick. Spencer, I think I just felt the baby kick.” You couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your face, as much as you couldn’t help the tear that dropped from your eye as your hand rested against your belly again, scared to move for fear that the baby wouldn’t communicate with you again.

“What? Now? Can I- Can I try and feel it, too?” His hands hesitated at first but when you enthusiastically nodded and used your other hand to put him close to yours, you could feel his eagerness to feel the small kicks of your daughter as well.

Almost as if she was waiting for him, as soon as his hand was in the right position, your little girl kicked again, almost as if screaming “I’m here mommy and daddy,” for the two of you to hear.

“I think she’s trying to tell us not to have fun without her,” Reid whispered in your ear, kissing your tear streaked cheek, and using his free hand to rub them away from the other side of your face.

“I am so thankful everyday for this gift you have given me. And for the record, the gift isn’t the baby. The gift is the overwhelming happiness you bring to my life, and the beauty you make me see in this world. The fact that you’re going to be the mother of my child gives me the confidence to get up and go to work every morning because I know that there is joy and there is kindness and there are beautiful people in this world, and you are one, and she will be, too.”

His attempts to dry your tears are now completely vanquished as you let your emotions run wild, but you almost laugh when you realise that his eyes are just as glassy as yours, and you both sit there, overwhelmed by the pure, unadulterated joy that a small kick from a child who has yet to be given a name has bought you.

[reidsdimples]

The journal in the front of his pants 🥵 I HAVE SOMETHING INAPPROPRIATE TO SAY

[matthewsgreybubbles]

Is there such a thing as a glasses kink? Because these stay on and I want them to fog.

[forevermoreale]

Spencer’s hands would make a good necklace 🫢🫠