Spencer Reid | Oneshots

Pipsqueak ☁️ (PG)

Summary: The only thing shorter than Reader is their patience.

Rating: PG (13+)

Content Warning: Piggyback ride, Short!Reader, alludes to sexual activity, concussions, kissing

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It was way too early for the coffee pot to be taking as long as it was. Truthfully, I shouldn't have even been there that early, but I'd managed to wake up before my alarm and decided to try out that thing I always heard about getting a jumpstart on your day. But as I practically lay on the counter, I decided that it was, definitively, bullshit.

I'd only been standing for about 3 minutes and my feet were already killing me. It was my own fault for wearing these shoes, although I'd blame it on someone else. After a quick glance around the office, I made a decision. With the utmost grace and maturity, I hoisted myself up onto the counter of the BAU kitchenette.

I regretted very little about my decision; the blood returned to my feet almost immediately and I let out a casual sigh as I dropped my head back against the cabinets. Maybe the day could be salvaged, I thought.

But I was wrong.

"Why are you sitting up there?" Spencer's voice sounded as smug as his smile looked. And, of course, both were also ridiculously beautiful.

"I like to be tall," I answered without making a move to jump down. He'd already caught me; there was no point in trying to hide it now.

He came to join me by the coffee pot, a genuine smile hiding beneath his smirk. "You're basically the same height as when you're standing," he replied, "which is a low bar."

While trying to maintain the most apathy as I could in the face of a terrible joke made at my expense, I mumbled, "I hate you."

The smirk on Spencer's face grew, his body closing in until we were practically touching. We weren't, though— his flirty teasing never went that far. Not usually, anyway. But that day, something was... different.

"That was a very clever comeback, pipsqueak."

Spencer Reid was calling for war.

"What did you just call me?" I snapped with an equally incredulous look.

"Hm? What? I didn't say anything?" He halfway shrugged, casually stepping to the side to try and get to the cabinet behind me. He didn't address the way I seethed until I raised a hand to slam the cabinet shut. It was then that he laughed, "Can you not hear me from down there?"

I paused to carefully plan my next few moves. I would have to be quick, but I knew I could pull it off. Spencer might be tall, but he was uncoordinated as shit.

"That's it," I mumbled, scrambling to bring my knees to the counter. The man beside me had to jump back to avoid getting kicked, and in the rush, he almost missed what was happening.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing," I immediately answered. It was clear from the sarcasm dripping from the two syllables that I was up to something, and his stupid brilliant brain figured it out a couple seconds later.

"No!" He shouted just as I grabbed his favorite mug from top shelf, "Leave her out of this! Mildred was a gift!"

"Mildred is a hostage!" I yelled back. For a very brief second I felt guilty for bringing her into the fray, but it was Spencer who had escalated the situation. Because without any concern for her safety, he wrapped his arms around me lifted me off the counter.