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underworld-of-imagines · 3 years ago

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A Christmas Nightmare - Spencer Reid

Sorry, I had forgotten about this one so it ended up going out on Christmas day instead of a few days earlier. But here's some comfort for you

Summary: Neurodivergent!Reader struggles with the Christmas crowds and calls a good friend in her panic.

Warnings: Slight panic attack/meltdown

Christmas was a time of joy and celebration, a time for friends and family to join together and celebrate what was originally, the birth of Jesus. Nowadays, it was more of a capitalistic holiday, of large spending for gifts and large amounts of food. For those non-religious folks, it was more about friends and family spending time together, celebrating connections. Some still go to church, gathering for the early service to listen to the words from the priest and the choir sing. But most chose the more capitalistic route.

Of course, with the capitalisation of the Christmas holiday came along a lot more than just gifts and decorations. Sinter Klaas already existed, but the birth of the idea of Saint Nicholas came along, and not long after formed into Santa Claus. And then along came songs and movies, TV shows, books, anything the entertainment and retail corporations could come up with. It got so popular that almost every house growing up was decked with decorations and lights that could cut through the snow. Every shopping centre had a ‘Photo with Santa’ opportunity, and every store donned decorations to celebrate the festivities. Music would play over the speakers, drowned out by the loud chatter of the crowds that were out to do their shopping.

Normally, you’d do your absolute best to avoid having to go into the crowded malls. Stocking up early and getting perishables from the corner store has been your go-to tactic since you went to college.

But a series of unlikely events required you to brave the crowds of the shopping mall for one Saturday afternoon. Albeit, you would have preferred during the weekdays, but the team had been on a case all week, only arriving back today. And your work Christmas party (courtesy of Garcia’s convincing) was meant to be tomorrow. It was a very last minute thing, as you were gathering in the conference room to brief the case, Garcia was convincing Rossi to host the work Christmas party - that was 4 days ago. Rossi, with a bit of pushing from Hotch had agreed, and the plan was set into motion.

Garcia was organising the decorations and catering, which included multiple trips to the bottle shop to make sure everyone had their preferred drinks. And a theme for the night had been decided ‘A Touch of Festivity’. What that meant, you had no idea, but you were sure you could pull something together from what you owned.

The hardest part though? Was buying gifts for everyone. When you agreed to attend the night, you were under the impression that it was going to be a secret santa. But much to Garcia’s arguments that nobody aside from JJ, herself and Hotch, had a lot to buy in terms of presents. Especially since everyone had already purchased presents for their families weeks ago and already sent them off.

That led you to where you are currently, standing in the middle of a very crowded shopping centre, being pushed and pulled by the crowd. It was all very overwhelming, many people were brushing past you, others pushing you without even noticing you were there. You looked like a ragdoll in the midst of the crowd.

The overstimulation set in very quickly, people’s arms brushing your body, the stifling air, the bright lights from all of the stores. Christmas music was playing loudly in the background, and you could hear the noises of the mechanical displays from a nearby shop. Chatter from the crowd was overbearing, and the occasional ‘ho ho ho’ from the Santa display further down the corridor rang in your ears. It was barely ten minutes in and you already felt like you were going to explode from all of the overload on your senses.

But, you had to at least attempt to get everyone’s gifts - for yourself. You knew that you could very easily go down to the bookstore and pick out a book for Reid. JJ and Garcia were easy with the candle store down the road. Morgan you could just buy a new cologne for, and try to convince him that women would like it better than his. Rossi was easy, he always wanted you to grab something from the deli that was on the corner of your block (he insisted they were the best). Hotch was a bit more difficult, but you knew that the candle store also sold various accessories, including ties. And Emily loved shoes, bags, belts, anything she could accessorise with - and you knew all of her sizes.

However, you made a promise to yourself to at least try going to the shopping mall. As one of your New Year's resolutions, you had to try something you found difficult or hard at least once a month. And you hadn’t done one for December yet. ‘You can overcome this, you’ve got this’ you kept trying to convince yourself.

But the more time that passed, the denser the crowd seemed to get, to the point that it was suffocating. Senses kicked into overdrive as you searched frantically for the exit, knowing you had mere minutes before the meltdown would begin. No relief came though, as the crowd was too tall for you, and too thick for you to see through clearly.

In a last minute effort, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through your contacts. Normally, you would hesitate to contact the person in mind, but today you needed to hear his voice. Pressing the call button, you held the phone to your ear, anxiously chewing on your nails whilst the call connected.

“Hello?” You let out a sigh of relief as his voice rang clear through the phone. “Hello? Is this Y/N?” His voice was thick, like he had just woken up to answer the call. Shuffling could be heard over the line, and a thump as he probably fell over a pile of books. “Y/N? Are you okay?” The words were stuck at the back of your throat, your voice destined to fail you when you really needed it.

“Help,” you managed to barely choke out. The crowd was impossibly close, and felt like they were closing in even more.

“Where are you?” His asked, his voice urgent as he tried to figure out your location.

“T-the mall, outside of the Bath and B-body Works.” You stumbled over your words, trying to focus on the sound of his voice instead of your overloaded senses.

“Okay, I know where you are. I’m on my way, but can you do something for me?” You nodded, not realising that he couldn’t see you. “I want you to go down towards the foodcourt, turn left when you see the Nordstrom okay? There’s an exit down that corridor, there’s no bus or taxi rank there, so it should be pretty quiet.” Turning in the direction that Spencer mentioned, you tried to memorise the instructions. “I’m going to hang up so I can drive. Just get to that exit and wait for me.” A harsh tone beeped, signalling the end of the call.

Pocketing your phone, you focused on trying to spot a sign for Nordstrom, which was difficult through the density of the crowd. After a minute of searching though, you finally found a sign, more of a map-directory kind of sign pointing towards Nordstrom. To your left, was a corridor with bathrooms and an exit at the end. Surely this is what Spencer meant, he hadn’t been entirely clear about the instructions and you were in too much of a panic to keep searching for a different sign.

Walking down the corridor, you noticed the sweat that seemed to break out on your brow, a tell-tale sign that you were nearing a meltdown. Someone exited the bathroom, the bang of the door closing making you panic more. They almost touched you as they hurried past, back towards the mall, and would have if you hadn’t pressed yourself against the wall. The corridor was quite narrow, and seemed to only narrow further down towards the door. Though you couldn’t tell if that was because of your panic or if it actually did narrow. But it was quieter, the lack of speakers bringing some slight relief to your senses.

Outside was a small loading area, not big enough for actual trucks to fit into, but its proximity to the parking lot suggested it was more for cars than actual delivery trucks. Small and quieter than the bustle near the entrance, it was almost perfect. Almost being the key word in that sentence, if it hadn't been for the screaming children and annoyed mother right next to the door.

You tried to keep calm, picking a spot on a bench that was several feet away, but you could still hear everything, the cars, the kids, the exasperated annoyance from the mother. Tapping your feet in a certain rhythm usually helped to distract you, but today it wasn’t enough, so you tried repeating it with your fingers, counting the beats, anything. It was all in vain though, as nothing drowned out the noise.

A sports car pulled up, the revving sending you more into overload as a young woman proudly got out. You started to hit your thighs, trying to ignore the kid asking his mom what was wrong with you. Before you retorted something that surely would have made him cry, his mother had whisked him further away. Silently, you thank her for her awareness - though it was probably more out of fear as you definitely weren’t acting like a ‘normal’ person.

That was a problem for another day, today you were too overwhelmed to approach someone about the stigma surrounding autism and the spectrum in society. But her moving further away also meant the screaming was quieter, more bearable. You just didn’t want to think of what she had texted the person picking her up about you and why she changed location.

Thankfully, you didn’t have long to think about that because moments later a familiar car pulled down the driveway. It slowed to a stop right in front of you before a familiar man stepped out of the driver side door, almost doubling in length.

“Y/N,” he breathed out, kneeling in front of you. “Are you okay?” You nodded shortly, avoiding eye contact whilst trying to calm your senses. “Try that trick I taught you, focus on different things, okay?” He had noticed that you were still in a state of panic, and your impending meltdown. And he wanted to try to prevent it, reminding you of the focusing tactic he had taught you. Glancing at him, you nodded, still avoiding eye contact as you took in notes of his appearance.

The clothes he wore were the same as yesterday’s, probably having fallen asleep in them sometime early in the morning. But he had loosened his tie, to the point it could fall off if you tugged it slightly. As usual though, his socks were unmatched and showed off his slightly dirty converse that he always wore. A wind rushed through, and you picked up on the familiar scent, a mixture of books and vanilla . His hair looked clean and fluffy, like it’d be nice to run your hands through. The two of you sat in silence for a moment as you hesitated about bringing your hands up to touch his hair.

“Can I hug you?” He questioned once you had visibly calmed down a bit. You were no longer hitting your thigh, and the foot tapping had slowed to almost a complete stop. A hug right now would feel nice, comforting and encasing.

“Okay,” you whispered gently. He was careful about his approach, allowing you to stand up before wrapping his arms around you, in a safe and secure embrace. It felt comfortable, but still empty. “Tighter,” you whimpered, relishing in the comfort that comes from his arms wrapping tighter around your body.

“I’ve got you, it’s okay.”

—--

Hours later, you were curled up on his rather comfortable couch, your legs covered by a weighted blanket. Old Doctor Who reruns were playing on the TV, but you didn’t have the energy to pay attention to it. At first you had just wanted to sleep the exhaustion away, but Spencer convinced you to go back to his place with him. You questioned it, of course, and he had convinced you by saying that he’d order your favourite comfort food, and make some calming tea that Garcia had gifted him. And the idea of spending more time with someone who was your comfort place didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

“Here, I didn’t know how much you wanted so I just put a bit of each onto your plate.” Spencer explained, handing you the plate of Indian food from your favourite place. “And I’ll put your tea here,” he said, placing it down on the coffee table in front of you.

“Thank you.” Your voice came out as a whisper, afraid it’d break if you talked any louder.

“It was the crowds wasn’t it?” You glanced at him, confused. “I noticed that when Garcia mentioned a Christmas party, and gift-giving, that you panicked. I assumed that it was because you hadn’t planned for any of that, or had already made plans. But when you called me earlier today I realised it’s probably because of how busy the malls are this time of year. I remembered that you really don’t like crowds, and formed the hypothesis that you avoid malls this time of year because of the crowds.” Your stomach filled with butterflies as he recalled various things about your behaviour, things that you hadn’t even picked up on.

He kept rambling on, mentioning other things about your behaviour and his hypothesis. But you had already zoned out, thinking more about how captivating he could be when he talked. Ironic, right? Since you had zoned out.

“So?” He questioned.

“So?”

“My hypothesis. Is it correct?” He looked at you longingly, awaiting your answer to his rambling.

“Yeah, yeah I guess so.” You giggled lightly, he could be such a genius and still so oblivious sometimes. Though, as the team would argue, so could you. And in a blissful ignorance you both sat for the rest of the night, unaware of the other’s feelings.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer imagine #cute spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff

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underworld-of-imagines · 3 years ago

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Blizzard - Spencer Reid

I don't know how I feel about this one tbh, but I wanted to give a prompt a shot. Also, I should note that I've never actually experienced a blizzard (Aussie gal), so I don't know if somethings I wrote are factually correct (I did do some research though).

GenderNeutral!Reader

Summary: A blizzard is forecasted, and you don't know what there is to do during a blizzard.

Warnings: Spencer maybe acting a bit out of character, extremely cute though

“Weather forecast is predicting a widespread blizzard for many parts along the Virginia coast. Locals in many areas are warned to stay indoors and prepare for blackouts.” You sighed as you listened to the weather report, already knowing that you’d probably be spending the rest of the day indoors. This was already the third blizzard along the East coast, and it wasn’t even Christmas yet.

Wandering over to the window, you looked out at the already snowy city. A sight that usually gave you a comforting feeling, now gave you one filled with worry.

Winter was your favourite season, mostly for the abundance of opportunities to layer on warmer clothes and snuggle with your partner by the fire - hot cocoa included of course. It also had one of your favourite holidays, Christmas. Having grown up in Canada, Christmas was truly a time of joy. And you spent it participating in festive activities like decorating the house whilst listening to carols, to long movie nights on the couch with your family. Of course other winter activities were very popular with you and your friends as well, ice hockey and ice skating were your chosen past times whenever the weather permitted. But this time, winter and the bad weather warnings that often accompanied it, worried you.

“What are you doing up so early Y/N?” A tired voice emanated from behind you, familiar arms sneaking around your waist.

“I woke up not long ago Spencer, wanted to get a head start on my day.” You giggled softly as his breath tickled your neck, before relaxing into the warm embrace.

“And what does this day entail? Pray tell,” he questioned, the thickness of sleep still obvious in his voice.

“I was planning on going to the candle store, and maybe the bookstore around the corner. But we just got a weather warning for a blizzard, so I think we’re going to be trapped inside all day.” A sad tone seeped into your voice as you tried to not let the disappointment hit you. You had really been looking forward to buying a new candle since your old one had run out.

“Oh no, whatever shall we do inside all day?” He questioned with a joking tone, a laugh falling from his lips. A whine fell from your lips as he teasingly kissed your neck, his intentions becoming slightly more obvious.

“I’m being serious Spencer, I had all of these plans and now I don’t know what to do!” You pushed him away, crossing your arms out of annoyance. His body moved closer to yours, before his arms wrapped back around your waist.

“I’m sorry gorgeous,” he apologised, now whispering against your ear. “Why don’t we do something together? I know we’ve been reading together a lot lately, we could do something different this time.” You shrugged, with most places probably choosing to remain closed today, you had no idea what activity you would be able to find on such short notice.

“Yeah? Like what?” You hadn’t meant for the tone of your voice to come out so harsh, getting ready to apologise for the harshness. But Spencer mustn't have noticed it as you could almost hear the cogs turning in his head.

“What about baking?” A while back you had mentioned a love for baking to him, though you rarely had the chance to do it anymore. “You went out and bought a heap of ingredients a few months ago, I’m sure with those we can find a recipe to go along with them.” He suggested, already trying to think of recipes that you could make (don’t judge him, he really tried to entertain your baking phase).

“Hm I forgot about that,” you pondered on the thought of baking. “It’s kinda messy though, even more so with two people involved in the process. Are you okay with that?” He nodded, grabbing your hands as you let them go.

“As long as we’re doing it together,” you could almost hear the smile through his voice. “Plus, we’ll have plenty of time to clean it up, it sounds like.” That was true, it hadn’t even started blizzarding yet so you had a while to go.

“Alright,” you relented, trying to hide the small bit of excitement that was blooming in your heart. “I assume Mr. Genius has already been thinking of a recipe to cook?” He let out a small laugh, nodding gently at your assumptions.

“Sugar cookies, they’re fairly easy and we have all of those ingredients.” You nodded, he was correct in both of those assumptions. “And they’re a staple for Christmas as I recall reading.” That was also true, and they were very easy to make cute christmas shapes out of.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

Not long later, you were both standing in the kitchen cutting shapes out of the dough you had made. Flour was dusted all over your kitchen, and consequently yourselves, as Spencer had gotten a bit playful halfway through baking and thrown small amounts of flour at you. This, of course, resulted in a small-scale food fight in your kitchen (thankfully just with the flour).

“Now we just put these into the oven and wait for them to come out,” you explained, already loading the tray of cookies into the oven. “Let’s listen to music and rest for a while,” you suggested, already making your way over to your record collection. It only took you a few seconds to pull out your favourite christmas vinyl - a Frank Sinatra one. You put it on before walking back to the couch, relaxing into Spencer’s open embrace.

It was the first time in a while you had seen Spencer having so much fun, and being so loose. Ordinarily, he would hate the thought of making a mess in the kitchen, and getting it on himself. And baking wasn’t exactly a favourite pastime of his too. You knew he was doing it all for you, having heard many stories of your Christmases at home, baking with your cousins and music constantly playing. Though, the thought of him doing so much for you warmed your heart, especially since he was gone on cases so often.

You don’t know when you dozed off, but it was now a sheet of white outside the window, the blizzard in full force. A blanket had been placed over you, and a pillow under your head. Confusion washed over your brain as you tried to figure out what time it was. It was now dark in the apartment, and it smelled vaguely of the cookies you had made earlier.

“I took the cookies out of the oven,” Spencer stated, noticing that you had woken up. “They’re on the counter,” he continued to explain, placing the book down as he stood up.

“Oh, have you had any?” You questioned, walking over to the tray of cookies.

“No, I wanted to wait for you to wake up so we could ice them. But then a blackout happened so I just decided to read instead. I thought you could use the extra sleep,” he added. “It’s been about an hour since we lost power, I tried to find that battery-powered radio you own to listen to the emergency station but I don’t know where you put it.” He explained, now standing in the kitchen with you.

“I left it in the buffet, I was checking if it still worked the other week. I must’ve left it on the table and just put it in there whilst I was cleaning up yesterday.” You walked over to the buffet, pulling out the small radio that you usually kept in the emergency box. Turning it on, you tuned to the emergency station, listening to the notices that kept playing. It was a standard blizzard notice, as well as notifying the suburbs that had so far lost power, and whether it’d be coming back on.

Only then did you notice how cold it was inside of the apartment, without a fireplace, it got cold quickly when the heating went out. Walking over to the couch, you pulled on Spencer’s cardigan that he had left there from the day before. He, of course, was already wearing a sweater over his casual clothing.

“Come here,” he beckoned when he noticed you were still cold. Moving over to him, he wrapped his arms back around you as you melted into his warm embrace. “Should we cuddle on the couch for the rest of the day?” You nodded, allowing him to move the two of you to the couch and laying a blanket over the two of you.

“I don’t like blizzards, but I have to say today has been pretty fun,” you admitted, enjoying his embrace.

#dr spencer reid #spencer imagine #criminal minds #cute spencer reid #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot

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underworld-of-imagines · 3 years ago

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Next Piece

So I realised that by accident, I wrote two autistic!readers in a row. This second one is with Spencer though and is more of a comfort one. Do you guys want me to post it or do something different and post it at a later date?

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underworld-of-imagines · 3 years ago

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Aw thank you for all of the love

The Tea Effect - Aaron Hotchner

Autistic!Reader x Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Reader expresses her love for green tea, and Hotch realises his feelings for reader

Working at the BAU was a very demanding job, both mentally and physically taking a toll on the agents there. No normal person could ever even attempt to crack that job, no one that hadn’t been hurt and left with a desire to help other people. Only people who saw what was wrong with the world and all of its flaws could understand the job fully. But that’s also what made the team work so well together, everyone had an understanding of loss and trauma that gave them the empathy needed for the job. An invaluable experience to have in this line of work.

Hotchner, of course, knew all of this. He knew the importance of understanding and empathy that was needed for success in this particular field. And he made sure that all of his team members understood this expectation. Whilst some members struggled more with expressing this empathy and understanding, others wore it on their sleeves. But nobody could deny that they didn’t have that experience.

Spencer had struggled with such empathy and understanding when he first joined the team. Having read about many of these struggles exhibited in psychology textbooks. But after the revelation of his mother’s condition, and the Tobias Hankel case, he found himself connecting more with the victims.

The only other team member who struggled, was the most recent recruit Y/N Y/L/N. Most people were taken aback by her harshness whenever she spoke, never sugar-coating what she was saying. She told it like it was, exactly how it was. And it unnerved a lot of people, cops and victims included. Hotchner had spoken about this with her after a difficult case, where she had called out some of the inconsistencies within the police station. Sometimes, especially to the victims, it felt that she exhibited no empathy or understanding. Aaron had also spoken to her about this, as they often felt violated in some sense by the ‘coldness’ she showed towards them.

Y/N had never told the team about her diagnosis, having been ridiculed her entire childhood for her behaviour. There were already enough opinions about her joining the team, she didn’t want to add fuel to the fire. Hotch already had his hunches about it though, and most of the team had also clued in on it as well. But until she brought it up, they didn’t want to say anything. Despite this, they both felt an indescribable connection towards one another - though they both kept this a secret.

Hotch remembered the day Y/N was hired, she was fresh out of the academy, one of the youngest BAU recruits yet. She had almost tripped up the stairs whilst walking into his office, and was so nervous that she stammered most of her words during introductions. But he knew of her capabilities, and that she would be a strong asset to the team. It was only a day later that he was standing at the window, looking at her chatting nonchalantly with the rest of the team on their lunch break.

From that day on, Hotch kept a careful eye on Y/N, he knew how variably situations like this could go, especially with someone on the spectrum. The stress of the job got to even the best of workers, and all it would take would be one incident gone wrong (case in point; Elle). But after a while of keeping an eye on her, he found himself drawn towards the quiet girl.

There were little tells of what Y/N did and didn’t like. He noticed how she always ate the same thing, seemingly prepared exactly the same way. Whenever they were on a case, she’d request to go to the supermarket as soon as they had a chance, she couldn’t trust any other food. It was also the more subtle things, the way her eyes squeezed shut whenever someone yelled, or how she tapped her feet in the exact same pattern whenever she wasn’t focused on something.

Sometimes he even noticed when she was getting too overwhelmed and overstimulated. She’d start to hit her thigh, and would pull at whatever top she was wearing, like it was constricting her neck. When this happened, all Hotch wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and hold her tight until she calmed down. But instead he just gave her a quiet space to calm down and kept an eye on her. Though this incident was a very rare occurrence as she tried to keep these things under control.

But one thing the team could never figure out was her distaste for coffee. Everyday when she walked into the bullpen, her nose would scrunch at the smell of freshly-brewed coffee. It was a necessity in the office, and everyone relied heavily on it to get through the long days of paperwork and casework. They would offer to pour her a cup whenever she was in the kitchenette, but she was always quick to decline their offers. Sometimes they wondered how she could have so much energy, but never drink any coffee.

So one day, they decided to question her about her coffee habits - or lack thereof.

“Pretty girl, why don’t you drink any coffee?” Morgan asked, the question coming completely out of the blue. You were all sat around the conference room, enjoying a calm lunch break for once.

“O-oh um I don’t know? I tried it once when I was in college but it made me feel weird.” You tried to explain, the words getting muddled in your brain. Everyone looked at you confused, trying to understand what you were saying. “Someone had told me it’d help me stay awake and focused, but I just felt weird afterwards,” you further explained. Though it had little effect on their understanding.

“Caffeine is a stimulant, for most people it helps to keep them awake. Though there are some studies that with certain mental conditions it can have the opposite or varying effects instead.” Reid rambled off, taking another sip of his coffee. The team nodded a bit, slowly gaining an understanding of why you avoided coffee. Hotch however, was more focused on you, and your reaction to the statement Reid had made, or lack thereof. He couldn’t tell whether you were upset or un-bothered by the mental conditions statement. But it was no secret to the team anyways, and surely you had noticed that at least.

“So what do you drink Y/N?” Emily questioned, truly just trying to understand the enigma that was your mind a bit more. You smiled excitedly, leaning over to grab something from your bag. Out you pulled a series of tea bags, all different kinds of green teas that you liked. Hotch couldn’t help but feel warm at the smile that seemed to light up the room. It wasn’t often that you smiled, but when you did, your smile was almost blinding to him.

“I really like green teas, they have caffeine but they don’t make me feel weird. I find them really calming actually,” you explained, rattling off your favourite ones to the team. They all watched, enthralled by your sudden burst of energy that led to your rambling about the different flavours, and brands. Hotch was entranced, barely focusing on your words, but rather the little wiggle you were doing in your seat, and the way your hands did half of the talking for you.

“There’s actually been studies done into the cytoprotective effects of green tea, especially the activity it has on brain cells. It can prevent the brain cell deterioration that comes with ageing, and it’s even been found that it can prevent damage to brain cells caused by autism.” Reid rambled, the team trying to keep interest in what he was saying. Not for his sake, but rather for yours, so they could have a better understanding. But as he continued to talk, they all slowly zoned out of the conversation, until the only one left listening was Hotch.

Rossi almost let out a chuckle at how Hotch was hanging onto every word that came out of Reid’s mouth that lunch. Which is why it came as no shock to Rossi that on the following Monday, when he went to open the drawer that usually held random utensils, it was empty. In their place, was a neatly organised drawer of green teas in boxes, some loose leaf, others in tea bags. How Hotch had found the time to do this, he had no idea. But it only solidified the hunch that Aaron had feelings for the new recruit.

It didn’t take long for the word to spread around the team, Emily having heard it from Rossi himself. Within ten minutes, the entire team had heard about, and checked out the state of the ‘Y/N’ drawer as they liked to call it. Nobody knew who did it at first, thinking that Garcia might have been the one to set it up. But when she arrived and was equally as shocked by the tea drawer, they concluded that the only other person who could’ve done it was Hotch. Which of course, began the gossiping about Hotch’s feelings for you.

You, however, had no idea about the ongoing events in the BAU that morning. Having taken a partial day for a doctor’s appointment that you kept putting off. As soon as you arrived though, Garcia was by your side, dragging you to the kitchenette where she proceeded to show you what she called ‘the beginnings of love’. AKA, the tea drawer.

Hotch was already watching you from the conference room, his stomach exploding as he saw the bright smile on your face. You didn’t know who did it at first, and you were too busy excitedly looking over each tea to bother asking. But when you did, Garcia smiled brightly before whispering his name. Maybe, just maybe, the feelings you had for him were requited.

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underworld-of-imagines · 3 years ago

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The Tea Effect - Aaron Hotchner

Autistic!Reader x Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Reader expresses her love for green tea, and Hotch realises his feelings for reader

So one day, they decided to question her about her coffee habits - or lack thereof.

“Pretty girl, why don’t you drink any coffee?” Morgan asked, the question coming completely out of the blue. You were all sat around the conference room, enjoying a calm lunch break for once.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch fluff #hotch imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #autistic reader

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underworld-of-imagines · 3 years ago

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Library Dates - Spencer Reid

Note: Reader is Gender Neutral

Summary: Gender!Neutral Reader and Spencer have a standing date night. But how do you go about it without running out of ideas?

The world was a dark place, a dark and dangerous place. Evil lurked in every dark alleyway, every unlit corner, every small crevice that people wouldn’t even otherwise notice. Your fiancé dedicated his life to fighting some of the evil that plagued the world. But in doing so, he sacrificed so much of his time and life to eradicate the evil. In a way, you also sacrificed a lot for his job, and it wasn’t an easy thing to do by any means.

Time with Spencer was a rarity sometimes, often he’d work late nights, or be away on cases for days on end. His job was never ending, and it took a heavy toll on the both of you. Spencer barely slept, most nights were spent with his face buried in a book, others he slept somewhat fitfully. As much as you tried to help his sleeping, there was only so much you could do to quell the loud thoughts running through his mind. In your relationship date nights were rare, and often planned on the fly as he never knew when a new case would come in.

That being said, you tried to keep a standing date night, every Wednesday night. Of course, one night a week seemed excessive for dates, especially 3 years into a relationship. But sometimes you did the most mundane things, like going grocery shopping or eating ice cream whilst sitting on the kitchen counter. That was how you made it work, by keeping things as simple as you could. Once a month, he’d try to take you on fancier dates - thought it usually ended up being more like once every two months. And when he was on cases, he’d make a point to call you on date night – which usually ending up with something more interesting. Sometimes though, he’d just read you a book until you fell asleep.

Tonight was Wednesday, and luckily for you, Spencer was home from a case, and had even decided to forgo staying late. At first, neither of knew what you wanted to do. It was too cold for ice cream, and you had done the grocery shopping days prior. That was when you noticed that you had nothing to read, you had finished your most recent book that day, and you were itching for another.

Spencer originally came up with the idea, which you eagerly agreed to.

So there you were, heavily bundled up in coats, a takeaway hot chocolate in between your hands. You walked down the snowy sidewalk, your destination just within sight. The library was somewhere Spencer frequented a lot, that and the second-hand bookstore on 5th. But you didn’t go there nearly as often as he did – you couldn’t read nearly as fast as he did. He still loved to take you there though.

There was something romantic about libraries, walking in between the shelves of books that an innumerable amount of people had touched. The silence was comforting, no words needed to be said, no thoughts voiced aloud. Instead it was just you, Spencer, and the books. It was perfect.

“Have you found something?” Spencer appeared beside you, the carpet masking the sound of his footsteps.

“Mhm, I think I’m going to go with these. I liked other works by these authors, I’m hoping that these hold up the same.” You indicated to the two books in your hands. They would be enough to get you through the 2 weeks. Spencer, on the other hand, had a pile of about 30 books. It’d last him roughly the same time, maybe even less if he didn’t have a case. “Do you have enough books?” You joked, it was something you said every time he returned from the library.

“No, but they only let me borrow 30 at a time,” he laughed. It had taken him a while to convince the librarians to let him borrow so many books, but they relented once they had seen how fast he could read. You remembered that day vividly, he had been arguing with the librarians for a while, until eventually, one of them came up with the idea. The idea was that they’d choose their favourite books, and he’d prove that he could read them quickly enough to warrant him borrowing so many. A mere two hours later, he stood before them in a small room, reading off the plots, basic profiles of each character, and the themes behind the stories. Finally, the librarians believed him and allowed the system overrides that would make the over-borrowing possible. That memory still made you laugh every time.

“Dr. Reid, funny seeing you here again. Planning for a busy week? You’ve got less than normal,” the librarian joked as you walked up to the checkout counter. They loved poking a bit of fun at the genius, who knew it was light-hearted joking (you had to explain that to him the first time). He let out a light-hearted chuckle, handing the librarian the stacks of books.

Not much later, you were walking out of the library, carrying multiple bags full of books. Thankfully, you had finished your drinks, and your apartment wasn’t too far from the library. Within 10 minutes, you reached your destination, lugging the books up the stairs to your third-floor apartment.

“Thank you for tonight, Spencer, it was beautiful,” you commented once you had settled down. You were sitting on the couch across from the fireplace, a blanket pulled over your legs. Spencer sat next to you, equally bundled up under the shared blanket.

“Of course darling, I’m glad you had fun.” He smiled, leaning over to place a small peck on your lips before curling further next to you.

Sometimes your relationship was hard, but times like this made everything seem perfect.

-----

A/N

I wrote this one on a whim, this is my first posted draft in a while. But today I went to the library, and it just made me think of Spencer.

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underworld-of-imagines · 3 years ago

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My Love, My Dove - Spencer Reid

Spencer stared at the message on his phone, a smile dancing over his face as he read through the words on the screen. Text messages from you never failed to put a smile on his face and butterflies in his stomach, no matter how simple they were. And just the few words of a poem after a hard case instantly lifted the weight that had been pressing down on his heart.

My love,

you have

too many smiles left in you

to be so sad

- Atticus

“Pretty boy got something good?” Spencer looked up Morgan, who was smirking at the genius. He nodded in response, glancing down at the phone once more before locking it. “My man! What was she wearing? Red? Nah, you’re more of a black or purple kind of guy, aren’t you?” Morgan teased, flicking through the magazine in his hands.

“You know, statistically speaking, men prefer colours that both contrast and compliment the skin at the same time. That’s why so many men prefer black or darker colours on the lighter coloured women.” Spencer explained, glancing over at the agent, noticing the bored look on his face. “We have this thing where after a case, or a hard day at work we send each other a poem.” He smiled gently, remembering the first time you had sent him a poem. It was Dante, you had wowed him with your knowledge of the poet.

“Well pretty boy found himself someone who is just as much of a nerd as he is,” Morgan smiled. As much as he teased Spencer, he was beyond happy for the genius. And was equally as supportive of your relationship.

Nobody made Spencer as happy as you did, and that showed just through the way he had changed since he met you. Simple things from his mood to the slight changes in his personality. One of the most notable things was that he could now use chopsticks, something you insisted on teaching him. Which naturally, shocked the team when they found out whilst having Chinese takeout on a case. But there were other things that they noticed, the way his smile just lit up randomly, or how he’d jump to answer the phone. The one thing that they could all agree on was the fact that you were the love of his life.

Of course, your relationship wasn’t perfect, no relationship was. Spencer knew this, he knew that you didn’t love his job, albeit how interesting you found it. He knew how afraid you were every time he got the call, how you’d hold him just that little bit tighter when bidding the goodbyes. It was your way of telling him to stay safe, to come home.

Before he met you, Spencer wasn’t fond of physical touch, avoiding it wherever he could. You changed that for him, at first it wasn’t much, just gentle nudges every now and then, and barely-there hugs. But after a particularly difficult case, Reid found himself outside your door, holding you tightly in his arms. After that, he was okay with hugs, and found himself comfortably at home in your arms. The team was definitely shocked when he showed up to a dinner with you, holding hands. That was something they thought they would never see, Spencer, willingly holding someone’s hand. What they didn’t know though, was how badly he craved your touch.

Spencer craved you in a way that he never thought he could crave someone. For him, it wasn’t just physical touch, but your smell, your voice, your personality, your cooking, everything about you. He craved you, and now that he had you, he couldn’t imagine life without you.

He’s never felt this way about someone. No one could make him so speechless and loquacious at the same time. He felt like he could talk forever about you, but whenever he looked at you, he lost all words. Spencer would talk for hours to you, about anything and everything, as you liked to call it. But you never grew weary of his voice. You’d sit there, listening to his ramblings, soaking in the information he told you like it was a lifeline. As he talked, he’d watch your face for your reactions, all he could pick up on was the adoration and love you had for him.

“I think I want to marry Y/N,” Spencer blurted out, causing Morgan to look up in shock.

“What did you say?” Morgan asked, placing his arms on the table as he leaned towards Spencer.

“I think – no I know I want to marry Y/N,” he repeated. Morgan pretended to not appear shocked, the team had managed to place bets on when this news would be coming. “I’ve been thinking it for a while, I even have the ring and everything. It’s just timing, I’ve been waiting for the right time.” Spencer admitted. He had been waiting for the perfect sunset or the perfect time on a date, but it hadn’t seemed to come yet.

“Pretty boy, if there’s anything I’ve learnt from this job, there’s no right time.” Morgan explained, reaching out to pat Spencer’s shoulder. Spencer nodded, realising that he didn’t have to wait for the perfect time, that whenever he asked would be the perfect time. No, he didn’t believe in fate, but maybe whenever it happens is when it’s meant to happen.

“Excuse me if I overheard incorrectly, but did I hear that there might be a wedding in our midst?” Rossi teased, leaning against the back of Morgan’s chair. Aside from Garcia, Rossi was the next biggest wedding fan that Spencer knew. Although everyone on the team were big wedding fans. They saw so much death and destruction, that they loved to celebrate the good parts of life.

“I’m thinking of asking Y/N to marry me,” Spencer hinted, a smile creeping up on his face. He truly couldn’t wait for forever with you. Rossi smiled widely, patting Spencer’s shoulder as the team slowly started to gather at the mention of a wedding.

For the rest of the plane ride, Spencer smiled widely as everyone discussed the exciting prospect of a wedding. Talking about how they knew this would be coming soon, how excited they were that Spencer had met someone so perfect. And Spencer knew in this moment how excited he was for you to officially join the family and start your own.

When I saw you first, it took every ounce of me

not to kiss you

When I first heard your laugh, it took every

ounce of me not to marry you

And when I met your soul,

it took every ounce of me

- Atticus

-------

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underworld-of-imagines · 3 years ago

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Confined Spaces - Spencer Reid

. Scenery of buildings and various businesses rushed by as you stared longingly out the window. The case was difficult, and you were all struggling to find the much-needed break to solve the case. It had been a very long day, and nobody was getting anywhere in your exhausted states. So Hotch had decided to call it a night, sending everyone off to the hotel.

Upon reaching the hotel, the first thing you noticed was the size of it, as well as the limited capacity it had. Everyone had agreed to convene in the front area, having already been warned about the room issue. Apparently, due to some rather large events happening in town, many of the hotels had reached capacity. This one was the only one to have more than two rooms available. Thus, leaving everyone to figure out the bunking situation that as an issue.

Hotch, noticing how exhausted everyone was as they collapsed into the armchairs, decided to take control. “I’ve just been told that all of the rooms only have queen beds,” he informed. “I’ll let you guys decide who you want to bunk with this time.” He explained, placing the room keys down on the table. You glanced awkwardly around the groups as the obvious partnering formed, Prentiss had grabbed a room key for her and JJ, both comfortable with sharing a bed. Frankly, you had no care as to who you’d be sharing a room with, all you wanted to do was shower and relax between the sheets.

“I’m not bunking with Reid. Hotch?” Morgan asked, grabbing the keys as Hotch nodded in agreement. That left two. You glanced between Reid and Rossi, Reid seemingly didn’t care, whereas Rossi was deep in thought.

“Are you two okay with sharing?” Rossi questioned once Hotch and Morgan left the sitting area. You kept your eyes on Reid, watching to see if he had any objections. After a moment of waiting, you shook your head, you didn’t mind. “Ok I’ll take the last room then, I’m planning on looking through this a few more times,” Rossi explained, holding up the yellow folder. He grabbed the other key, twirling it around his fingers before turning and walking towards the elevator, whistling all the while.

A silence befell the sitting area, neither of you wanting to be the first one to speak. You and Reid shared a complicated relationship, one that was very obvious to the other members of the BAU. They had keen eyes and could tell the strong chemistry and feelings you shared. The two of you, however? Well, it could be debated that neither of you were the geniuses you said you were.

Spencer stood up, grabbing the room key as he cleared his throat, “we should head to bed.” Without waiting for you, he grabbed his go bag, making his way towards the elevators. You grabbed your go bag, slinging it over your shoulder before chasing after the long-legged man.

The elevator ride to your floor was almost silent, all that could be heard was Spencer’s nervous shuffling and your nervous breaths. The silence was deafening, and your chest started to constrict painfully the longer it went on. Had you angered him by saying that you’d share a room?

By the time the elevator reached your floor, your chest had constricted to the point where you could hardly breathe. Your breaths had quickened, and now they were short and painful. You were panicking. Spencer obvious hadn’t noticed your panic, because as soon as the elevator doors had opened, he was walking at a brisk pace towards the room. Rushing after him, you barely managed to make it before the door closed.

“Did I do something wrong?” You questioned, placing your bags down on the table with a thump. Spencer was standing next to the bed, already kicking his shoes off.

“Why would you say that?” He questioned; a dubious expression plastered over his face. Opening his bag, he pulled out a pair of pyjamas, as well as a book that he had once told you helps him sleep better.

“I don’t know. You just seem mad,” you whispered, barely audible over your panicked breathing. The pain in your chest hadn’t lessened at all, and only seemed to be getting worse the longer he took to respond.

“I’m not mad Y/N, I’m just tired. It’s been a long day, and tomorrow will be an even longer one,” he explained. Grabbing his pyjamas and a towel, he made his way over to the bathroom, stopping just before the door. “You’re the only person I feel comfortable sharing a room with, okay? I just didn’t want to say anything because I don’t know how okay with it you are.” His words calmed you slightly, your breathing easing as the pain in your chest started to dissipate.

“If I wasn’t okay with it, I wouldn’t have brought it up, Doctor.” You exaggerated, slightly irritated that, even with all of his profiling skills and psychology knowledge, he’d assume you weren’t okay with sharing rooms. “Stop assuming things all the time, okay? If I wasn’t okay with it, you’d currently be sharing a room with Rossi. I would have spoken up if I wanted to be alone.” The words came out harsher than you had intended, causing Spencer to flinch slightly.

You watched warily as he opened his mouth to speak before closing it and retreating to the bathroom. Fuck. Upsetting Spencer hadn’t been your intention, you were tired and irritable, and his assumptions just made you even more so. But that didn’t excuse the harsh words that came out of your mouth. Distantly, you could hear the familiar sounds of the shower turning on, he was probably pissed at your outburst.

Realising that you’d be alone for a while, and the unbearable silence that came with the loneliness, you decided to venture out onto the small balcony that was attached to your room. Outside, the silence wasn’t much better, even though there were all the sounds you could associate with being in the city, it was still quiet. Too quiet in your opinion. And that quiet was accompanied by the cool air that danced over your skin, attempting to calm your nerves.

Why did you have to go and piss off the only person you are truly comfortable with? If you had just spoken up earlier, or better yet, managed to keep your mouth shut, you wouldn’t be in this situation. Everything would have been fine if you had just managed to stay silent, then he wouldn’t be mad with you. You could have just gone about your night-time routine, quietly dancing around each other as you got ready for bed. Yes, the silence and tension would have killed you, but it’d be better than this.

A light knock on the glass door broke you from your thoughts. Spencer stood on the other side, dressed in his pyjamas for bed, his hair still damp from the shower. You sucked in a deep breath, walking back into the room that was much too hot for your liking. The skinny man was already sitting on the couch, the case files spread haphazardly over the coffee table. He obviously wasn’t planning on sleeping yet either.

You tiptoed around him, trying to stay as silent as possible as you gathered your things for a shower. A sigh from behind you made you freeze and turn around, Spencer was staring at the folder, obviously trying to piece together the few clues the team had managed to find. After realising that it wasn’t directed towards you, you retreated into the bathroom, excited for the hot shower.

“Y/N, you know I’m not mad at you right?” Spencer questioned, not looking up from the file he was reading. You had since finished in the bathroom, and were now sitting on the couch, opposite from the genius. “You’re distracted around me, your breathing escalates every time we’re in a together in a room alone.” He explained, still not looking up from the file.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you Spence, I’m just stressed from the case.” You apologised quickly, trying to detour away from the conversation. He shifted slightly closer, watching for your reaction with his close proximity. You relaxed slightly at the faint scent of his cologne that you had become familiar with over the years. Realising his long researched theory was correct, he let out a relieved sigh.

“I know, it’s been a long day. We should get some rest,” he placed the case file down on the desk before standing up. “Come on let’s get some sleep,” he said, holding his hand out to you. You couldn’t deny, grabbing onto his hand and following him to the bed. Within seconds, you were both under the sheets on your respective sides of the bed.

“I know that I’m extremely tired and probably slightly delirious, but I think we got set up Spencer Reid.” You laughed after a moment of silence, realising exactly what the team had been planning.

“I think we did too Y/N,” Spencer chuckled. You shifted slightly closer to the genius, relishing warmth that radiated between the bedsheets. A silence befell the room again, but this time it was more of a comfortable one than an uncomfortable one. But still, you craved more, a word, a touch, a reassurance from the man that it wasn’t one-sided.

“Can I touch you?” Your voice was gentle, barely a whisper in the dark room. You waited with bated breath the cogs could be heard turning in his brain. He reached over, arms wrapping around your body, pulling you closer to him. This was your place, where you belonged.

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underworld-of-imagines · 3 years ago

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Waves - Spencer Reid

Making a bit of a comeback now that I'm a bit more back into the writing scene. Here's a simple cute one for you guys!

“Hey Y/N, have you finished off that report for me?” You gingerly lifted your head off of your desk, squinting your eyes as the light hit them. It had started sometime the night before, when exactly you don’t know, but you knew that you couldn’t focus, that the light burned your eyes. Shifting in your seat, you turned towards your boss.

“Uhm no, I’m still working on it.” Pausing, you swallowed I’m just struggling to focus at the moment,” you explained, shielding your eyes from the bright lights. The lights and movement caused massive waves to wash through your head, pounding against your skull.

“Are you okay? You don’t look so hot,” she commented, placing her mug down on your desk. Your boss, Natalie, had always been extremely caring towards you, treating you more like a friend than an employee. Granted, she did it for everyone in your workplace, but especially you. In fact, when you had first met Spencer, your fiancé, he had explained the benefits of having a good relationship with your boss. But now, you were especially thankful for it.

“Not really, I have another migraine.” Migraines were not an uncommon occurrence in your life, having been diagnosed with chronic migraines at 14 years old. Now, they were an almost monthly occurrence. Of course, the doctors couldn’t give you an explanation as to why you got them, only some remedies to treat them.

“You should go home and get some rest Y/N,” Natalie recommended, leaning against the desk. Nodding in agreement, you slowly started to collect your items, shoving them into your handbag. “Did you drive here today?” Thankfully you hadn’t, rather opting to have Spencer drop you off on his way to work.

“Spence dropped me off, I’ll just call a cab.” Standing up, you walked towards the office door, bidding a short goodbye to Natalie. The cab arrived quickly, and you were on your way home before you knew it.

Usually during one of your migraines, if he wasn’t away, Spencer would take the day off to help you recover. This time you decided to handle it on your own, rather than pulling him away from work. Mostly though, it was because you just wanted to sleep it off, it hadn’t even reached full severity yet and you were already beyond exhausted.

Which is why you were glad, that less than twenty minutes later, you were climbing in between the covers of your bed with the curtains drawn, prepared for a long sleep.

*****

The distant slamming of the front door awoke you from your sleep, it was now several hours later, and Spencer was finally home. You could hear movement in the kitchen, the distinct sounds of shoes coming off, bag hitting the floor, and a mug on the counter. Just from the sounds, you could tell Spencer had had a rough day at work. Knowing this, you shifted the blankets to move into a sitting position, a book already in your lap. As horrible as you felt, you didn’t want Spencer to know you were suffering from another migraine. He already had enough of a rough time at work, you didn’t want to make it worse.

Footsteps sounded down the hallway, very obviously making their way towards your shared bedroom. You quickly opened the book, flicking to where you had left a bookmark. Your eyes burned as you buried your nose in the book, pretending to ignore the sound of the door opening.

“Hey, you’re home.” Spencer greeted as he walked over to the dresser, the smell of coffee filling the room. Placing your book down, you looked over at your fiancé, who was struggling to pull off his tie.

“Yeah. I take it work didn’t go so well today?” You questioned, placing your book down on your lap. Spencer turned around, letting out a frustrated sigh. His shirt was already half unbuttoned, and his hair was a mess from him running his hands through it.

“Just a case I have been asked to consult on,” he sighed, sitting down on the bed. “A cold case in Maryland has been reopened after the surfacing of new evidence. The lead detective on the case was given the orders to bring in someone from the BAU to consult, he’s not happy about it.” Spencer turned to you, a frown forming on his face as he took in your appearance. You shifted uncomfortably under his stare, trying to avoid his profiling tendencies.

“That happens to you guys a lot. Though, from what I can tell, some police departments don’t tend to react well when someone else is brought in to do their job.” From your three years being with Spencer, things became easier to pick up on. Subconsciously, you had learnt some of his profiling tricks, and he didn’t tend to hold back from telling you case details or random facts. Of which you had learnt a lot from.

“He is most definitely an alpha male, by being ordered to bring me in he feels inadequate.” Spencer explained, withholding himself from telling you another random fact about alpha males and dignity. Rather, he continued to stare at you, profiling your actions and behaviour. Trying to ignore him, you opened your book again, your eyes hurting as you tried to focus on the words.

It was getting worse, now even just the light from the hallway was starting to create the waves in your mind. The sounds from the streets below sounded like jackhammers in your ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, in fear of the interruption of the equilibrium you had been trying to create. But the nauseous feeling in your throat threatened you to break your cover. Only a little bit longer, he’d have to eventually go do something right?

“You have another one, don’t you?” His words broke your thoughts, the caution in his voice forcing you to look up at him. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you for a second. “I went to pick you up from work, Natalie told me that she had sent you home sick.” Spencer shifted towards you, taking your hand in his and maintaining the eye contact that made you weak. “I take it you weren’t planning on telling me?” Shaking your head, he let out a sigh, his mind obviously racing with thoughts.

“I just don’t want to worry you Spence, I can take care of myself you know.” You reassured, gently rubbing his hand with your thumb. Truthfully, looking at him hurt because of the slight amount of light that came from the hallway.

“I know you can, but I want to be able to take care of you. Will you let me take care of you?” In your fragile state, Spencer knew better than to talk more than necessary, having been in your position himself. He also knew that you were particularly vulnerable to thinking that you were a burden, and that you didn’t always want help. However much you needed it.

“Please,” you begged, your hand moving up to grasp his wrist. The pounding against your skull was only getting worse, and you knew that within minutes it would become almost intolerable.

Spencer jumped into action at your words, reassuring you to stay put before he rushed from the room. Moments later, the sound of the kettle started as it ran in the background, the gentle sound of cupboard doors shutting. He always knew exactly what would help you when you had these, and he never hesitated to do them. Shuffling could be heard as he moved into the bathroom, turning on the taps to the bathtub as he moved to make the room more comfortable.

“Everything’s ready,” he softly whispered from beside you. Your groaned slightly as you moved to the side of the bed, allowing him to help you to stand. “A nice bath with some lavender oil and a cup of peppermint tea. Would you like some Panadol as well?” He had always been cautious with giving you Panadol, always staying close to monitor your reaction. This time though, he knew you’d need the painkiller to alleviate some of the pain.

“Yes please, will you stay?” He nodded, helping you to remove your clothes before moving you into the bathtub. The room was barely lit with just a few candles, nothing to cause any pain. “Thank you for this,” you said as he helped you take the painkillers.

“Of course Y/N, I love you,” he smiled gently. Sometimes, being with Spencer sucked, mainly because of the nature of his job. But other times, like these, you were extremely thankful for the man you could call your fiancé. “Now you just rest, okay? I’ll be right here with you,” nodding, you laid your head back against the cool tub, allowing yourself to slip into the darkness.

*****

“Hey Y/N, how are you feeling?” Spencer asked as you began to awaken from your slumber. You groaned as your eyes adjusted to the darkened bedroom. At some point, he had moved you from the bathroom back into your bed. Now, he laid next to you, a book open in his hands, forgotten as he directed his attention to you.

“Better, thank you.” You expressed your gratitude, reaching for his hand and placing a gentle kiss on it.

“You never have to be afraid of telling me, Y/N. I’m more than happy to be able to help you,” Spencer reminded. You smiled as his hand moved to stroke back the locks that had fallen in front of your eyes. “In sickness and in health, till death do us part,” he reminded, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead

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underworld-of-imagines · 4 years ago

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Bookshop Meetings - Spencer Reid

“Good morning,” you greeted as you passed the threshold of the door, the bell ringing above you as you stepped into the musty-smelling shop. Bookshops were the one and only place where you truly felt at home, somewhere you knew that nobody around would be judging you. They were also the first, and only place you had fallen in love, with books that was. You were dubious about human love, deciding to stay single rather than risking everything for human love, you had seen first-hand what it did to people. So instead, you decided to love through books, writing them or reading them, falling in love with the characters. It was the next best thing.

“Hey Y/N, I got a few of those books in that you had been looking for. Do you have any time for anything other than reading?” Doug joked as you walked up to the register, his warm smile beaming at you.

“You know I don’t Doug, my life is books,” you smiled. Walking around the counter you greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. Doug was the owner of the bookshop, he met you when you first came in in your freshman year. It was a quick friendship, you were in often, being a Creative Writing major you spent a lot of time ‘researching’. He was one of your closest friends, one of your only friends for that matter, and you loved him, platonically of course.

“I know, I know. How’s the new book coming?” He questioned, eager to read it when it came out.

“Good, I just got the final edits back. It’ll be going to press next week,” you beamed. Writing was all you had ever wanted to do, you weren’t exactly a best-selling author, but people knew of your work. Doug was your biggest supporter, he had read your books, even had a dedicated section in his store for them. He knew of the general plot of your new book, and he was beyond excited for it.

“I hope I have a note in that dedication page,” he smirked. Turning around, he started the coffee pot, letting the coffee brew in the background.

“Of course you do, Doug. How could I not acknowledge my biggest fan?” You chuckled, taking a seat on the stool he always had set aside.

“I better get a mention for all of the coffee I’ve supplied you with,” he joked, handing you the mug. You smiled graciously as you accepted it, letting the heat of the mug warm your hands. He sat down in his usual chair, pulling out a notepad and writing an idea down. Writing books was always something he had been interested in, but never felt he was good at. So as a part of your internship at the bookshop, you had offered to tutor him in writing. Now he was starting to come up with plans for a book series he had always wanted to write.

“The University of Virginia got back to me yesterday about that guest lecturing position for the creative writing degree. They were pretty excited to have me on board for the new school year. Who would have thought that I’d end up teaching there?” You laughed, sipping on the coffee. Distantly in the background, you heard the chime of the bell above the door, but you were now so used to being in the store that you hardly heard it most of the time.

“Well, one of their best students, almost a best-selling author by the age of twenty-five? They simply couldn’t deny you that position. I swear, the professors there are obsessed with you.” You nodded in agreement, they never seemed to be able to get enough of you. When the freshmen would start each year, they’d give them your contact information as an alumnus, and boasted about you constantly to their peers at other universities.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt.” You looked up from your coffee to the tall, skinny man who looked vaguely familiar.

“Dr. Reid! It’s good to see you again!” Doug cheered, quickly rounding the counter to give the man a tight hug. Dr. Reid was a familiar name, you knew him from somewhere, but you couldn’t quite place the origins.

“Hey Doug, it has been a while, work’s been crazy with all of the cases. Finally had some free time to come down here.” Dr. Reid smiled warmly, his eyes quickly meeting yours before he looked back at Doug. “I was actually looking for a certain author today, Y/N Y/L/N, someone I work with recommended her works to me. And I was hoping you sold her works.” Blushing gently, you looked back down at your coffee, how could someone so cute know of your work?

“Well Spencer, I have to say that you’re in luck. Not only do I have her complete works, but she’s also right here. Dr. Spencer Reid, meet up and coming author Y/N Y/L/N.” Doug had seen the look the two of you had shared, and he could hardly resist the opportunity to set up two of his most loyal customers.

“Hello,” Spencer greeted, awkwardly raising his hand in a small gesture.

“Hi, sorry but do I know you from somewhere?” You questioned, unable to contain your curiosity any longer.

“It’s likely, I work for the FBI, Behavioural Analysis Unit. I’ve been on TV a few times and I guest lecture at a lot of the universities nearby.” He explained, nervously stuffing his hands back into his coat pockets.

“Oh! I went to one of your lectures at University of Virginia. I was a student there at the time, I minored in psychology, and you were one of the guest lecturers for a class I took.” You recalled, you were barely 19 when you met him, and even then you thought he was incredibly cute.

“Here’s a coffee Spencer. I have some business to attend to in back so I will leave you guys to it,” Doug excused himself, handing the mug to Spencer before walking into the backroom.

“Smooth Doug, smooth,” you chuckled, looking down at your mug once again. “Well, since I’m here, I could probably recommend you some books. I vaguely recall you mentioning how fast you could read, but surely you haven’t read all of the books in this store?” Spencer glanced around, his eyes skimming over some of the titles on the shelves.

“No of course not, thousands of books come out per year, I couldn’t possibly read them all. But I have read quite a few in this shop,” Spencer commented, his fingers running over the spine of a worn book. You watched his reaction to it, the way his face changed as he read the cover, as if it was meaningful to him.

“That one has a certain meaning to you?” You questioned, leaning over to read the title, which was conveniently in French. His face turned to an expression of shock as he looked at you, most people didn’t notice micro-expressions, even less were trained to notice and translate them. “What can I say, I’m a woman of many mysteries. Here, I’ll show you where my books are.” Grabbing his hand, you watched carefully for any signs of nervousness, he seemed awkward when Doug had touched him earlier. When you didn’t notice any, you gently led him to what you had labelled ‘The Shrine’, a collection of Doug’s favourite works, most of them were yours.

“Wow you have quite the collection written already, and you’re what? 25?” Spencer questioned, looking over the book covers displayed on the shelves. “How did you manage to write all of these after your degree? That’s gotta be what, 2 and a half books a year?” You chuckled gently, shaking your head.

“Not entirely. I started university when I was 15 so I graduated when I was 19 on an advanced course. But most of these books I came up with plots for or had general ideas for throughout university. Everything else after that just came easily. So it’s more like 1 book a year.” You explained, running a hand over one of the covers.

“Impressive,” Spencer commented. He let go of your hand as he reached to grab one of the books, the comfort already leaving your system. “Which one is your favourite?” He question, running his finger over the embossed letters on the cover.

“The one you’re holding was my third, it’s my favourite published one. Although I am still very impartial to my first one, Self.” You reflected, pulling the book off of the shelf. It came to you one night when you were studying, it was about the self-realisation of a traumatised young adult, not unlike yourself.

“Well studies do show that your first time for anything does have a si-”

“Significant meaning to oneself. Yes, I know Dr. Reid,” you finished his sentence. “But Butterfly Feathers was by far my favourite to write.” You explained, watching as his slender fingers continued to trace the lettering.

“The phrase butterfly feathers makes no sense whatsoever though. Butterflies don’t have feathers so to suggest that they do is incorrect.” Spencer argued, lifting his arm to put the book back on the shelf.

You stopped him before he could put it down, partially holding the book in your hand. “For a genius you should know that the carries the meaning of the title. It’s wrong to judge it based simply off the title. I recommend that you read it Dr. Reid, find out the meaning.” Placing the book in his hands, you reached into your purse, grabbing out a business card.

“And once you do find out the meaning, feel free to call me.” You put the card in his cardigan pocket before gingerly leaning up and pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek. Before he could say anything, you turned and walked out of the store, hoping he’d be calling you very soon.

HEY GUYS!

So I know it's been a while since I've written anything for this page. Life has been hectic and I haven't exactly had the motivation to write anything. But here is something!

I'm thinking of turning this into a series, thoughts?

#spencer reid #spencer fluff #spencer reid imagine #cute spencer reid #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

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underworld-of-imagines · 4 years ago

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Coffee Shops - Spencer Reid

Important Note: Spencer is about 18-19 in this story!

A/N: So I wrote this one on a whim. No real plan for it but I kinda liked how it turned out. By the way, Spencer is about 18-19 in this story, so pre-FBI academy, still at university. With that aside, hope you guys enjoy!

Spencer sighed deeply as his body melted into the worn leather armchair, immediately crossing one leg over the other. The mug of coffee burned his hand, but he refused to relinquish his hold on it, as if it was the only thing keeping him alive at that moment. Honestly, if it wasn’t for this shop being the only one open at 8pm, he might not have been alive. Solely because without a coffee exactly every four hours, he was practically a zombie.

Having finally taken a few sips of the sweet coffee, he felt his eyelids slowly begin to open. With that, he finally decided to take in the small café. Along one wall was an astonishing display of old books. He could make out a few of the titles, some were in English, most were in French. Across the corner from him was a couple, enjoying a quiet coffee date. Unsurprisingly, the café was very quiet, a few people were scattered about, but it was mostly couples on a date.

In the quiet café, his eyes were quickly drawn to the girl sitting in the corner, you. He watched you curiously, taking mental notes of how you were acting, and that you were very obviously deep in a book. It wasn’t meant to be staker-ish, you were simply very intriguing to the boy.

“Excuse me.” He looked up, shocked that you were now standing in front of him.

“You were staring,” you stated. He hadn’t realised.

“I’m sorry, you just intrigue me,” he apologised, shifting up in his chair.

“You’re lucky your cute, is this seat taken?” You asked, not waiting for his reply before you sat down in it. He stared at you in shock, an almost aghast expression on his face. “I’m sorry, this was taken, wasn’t it?” When he shook his head, you looked at him, confused.

“Sorry I’m just in shock that you’re talking to me.” He admitted, much against his own will.

“You’re not someone famous are you?” He shook his head, a small smile on his face. “Okay, and you’re not a murderer, rapist, or just someone who hurts people are you?” Shaking his head again, you smiled. “Good, so then I don’t see a problem with talking to you, do you?” Taking a sip of your hot chocolate, you leaned back into your chair.

“How did you know I was staring?” He questioned, resting a long arm on his leg.

“Call it eyes in the back of my head, or a sixth sense, or whatever you will. I felt someone staring at me, wasn’t hard to figure out who.” You smirked at him, taking another sip of your hot chocolate whilst maintaining eye contact.

“There’s no such thing,” he stated. “It hasn’t been scientifically proven, though many have tried to prove that it’s true, they haven’t proved anything at all.” He continued, rambling on about the statistics of failed studies that never even made it to publishing because of inherent errors in the studies. All simply based off of the experiments themselves because they were built wrong.

“What’s to say that there isn’t? Just because it hasn’t been proven yet doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist. Everything we’ve discovered existed before we discovered it. Isaac Newton didn’t invent gravity,” you pointed out. He couldn’t argue with your reasoning, instead he just opened and shut his mouth like a fish. “Spencer Reid, I suggest that you think about things deeply before denying stuff.” He stared at you in confusion.

“How do you know my name?” He questioned, slightly creeped out by the revelation.

“We used to share a class together a year or so ago. For a genius with an IQ of 187 who can read up to 20,000 words per minute, you really don’t recognise me?” He shook his head, trying to recall which class he shared with you.

“I tried to avoid most people in my classes. People tend to get offended by someone being younger and smarter than them.” True, that was a fact you had learnt in your psychology class, and just in life in general. “But this still doesn’t excuse the fact that there is no study proving the existence a sixth sense,” he reminded.

“Yet. There isn’t a study yet. I plan to be the first.” It was true, you had just gotten the ethics approval for your PhD study, looking into the science behind a sixth-sense.

“How old are you?” He was genuinely curious of your age, because you looked younger, but acted older.

“17,” you stated proudly. “Already doing my first PhD.” He stared at you in shock. “What Spencer Reid? Thought you were the only genius in Los Angeles?” That’s when he noticed your book, an original copy, written in France. Checking your watch, you frowned at the time. “Sorry, gotta run. Maybe I’ll see you around again,” you smiled before putting your mug down and rushing out of the café.

He stared in shock as you walked out of the café and across the street, he never even managed to get your name. Frowning, he took a sip of coffee before looking down at the table, noticing a piece of paper wedged under your mug. Opening it, he smiled gently to himself. On it, was a neatly written name, your name.

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #cute spencer reid

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underworld-of-imagines · 4 years ago

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I would absolutely love a part two of "guardian angel" where the reader tells spencer what she saw!!

Ooooo I LOVE this idea! I’ll definitely give this one a shot

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underworld-of-imagines · 4 years ago

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I’m There - Spencer Reid

Prompt: “My back’s killing me.”

Warnings: Explosion, guns

A/N: So I know this kinda sucked, I just wanted to write something short for Spencer and had no idea so used a few line prompts. Somehow came out with this, that really isn’t good. But oh well, at least it’s something.

“EVERYBODY GET DOWN!”

You had barely registered the loud yelling before the bomb went off, sending you flying across the warehouse. A low groan emanated from your throat as you collided with a steel support beam, the impact leaving a painful ache in your back.

“Shit,” you muttered as your boots landed on the floor again, sending shooting pains up your back. Looking around the room, you noticed everyone was focusing on peeling themselves off of various surfaces or apprehensively looking for the attacker. Nobody had noticed that you were injured, which was a good thing in your books.

“Movement in the next room,” Derek’s voice rung through your earpiece. Everyone looked around, most of them were still disoriented from the blast. You, being the most conscious out of everyone, decided to join Derek in the search.

Drawing your gun, you carefully moved up next to him, trying to keep your footsteps silent as you ignored the pain radiating in your back. Flanking either side of the doorway, you waited for the swat team to catch up for infiltration. Making eye contact, Derek gave you a small nod before breaching the room, you following hot on his trail.

A young woman was tied up, displayed in the middle of the room, a gag pulled tightly around her head. Holding your gun in the air, you holstered it before cautiously moving towards her. It barely took a few seconds before you recognised her as the missing girl you had been called to find. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Are you Nadia?” She nodded, fear in her eyes as you slowly held your hands out. “I’m just gonna remove this gag, okay?” Nodding again, you quickly began to remove the gag that was starting to suffocate her.

“Nadia, are there any bombs in this room?” Derek asked, his gun still drawn, surveying the room. You breathed a sigh of relief as she shook her head, sputtering something unintelligible about the attacker.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re gonna get you out of here now.” Holding out your hand, you helped her out of the chair. “Can you walk?” She nodded her head, obviously traumatised by the events that had just taken place. “Good,” you smiled as you gingerly took off your FBI jacket, draping it carefully over her shoulders.

“The EMTs are just outside waiting for you guys,” Derek announced, holstering his gun. “You got her?” Nodding, you sent him a small smile before leading her out of the small office.

Everyone was still gathered around the warehouse, either talking in a corner or getting checked out by the EMTs. Putting your hand gently on Nadia’s back, you led her out of the warehouse, over to the ambulances.

“These guys will check you over, and one of my team will come take a statement. If everything’s good you will be free to go,” you gave her a small smile before walking away.

You quickly, but carefully made your way around the side, out of sight from the EMTs. Pressing your hand to your back, you hissed loudly at the pain from the touch. That wasn’t a promising sign for the injury. Hoping it was just a bad bruise, you slowly pulled off the bulletproof vest that was definitely making the injury worse.

“Y/L/N, good work today on finding the attacker. I just got the call that he was cornered by a SWAT team outside of his apartment building.” Hotch praised, moving to stand in front of you. “We don’t know exactly, but we assume that the bomb was wired with motion sensors that would set off once something got too close.” Nodding you smiled gently at his words. Often times stalker cases ended badly, with the object of attention not making it out alive. But this time you got lucky.

“Have the EMTs checked you out yet?” You gave a fake nod in reply, assuring Hotch that you were fine minus a small headache from the noise of the blast.

“Good, we’ll be leaving soon then.”

—-

Groaning annoyedly, you shift in your seat again, aggressively punching the pillow you had been leaning on. The pain was intense as you tried relieve some of the pressure on your back. Somehow, by some happy miracle, you had managed to keep your injury a secret from the rest of the team. Mainly by acting as normal as you possibly could since the explosion, which had occurred now 10 hours ago. You always quickly wrapped the case, packing your things and say goodbye to the police officers, before making your way back to the airfield. In the hopes you’d make it home in time for dinner (albeit rarely the case).

The rest of the plane was quiet, the team members either sleeping, or listening to some music to pass the time quicker. Unfortunately for you, nothing could make the time pass quicker, as you prayed to make it home where you had ice packs and painkillers to help with the very dark bruise that painted your back. All that you could do was wait, and hope that the time would hurry up.

Shifting in your seat again, you froze as Spencer began to stir.

“You’re still awake,” he pointed out, his voice deep and groggy as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.

“Yeah, not really tired,” you lied, hoping that he’d fall back asleep.

“I’ll keep you company,” he stated, adjusting himself into a more comfortable position. You envied the tall genius, not because he was a genius, but because he could make himself comfortable to sleep anywhere. However, after a few months, you had put it down to him being eternally exhausted, and passing out wherever he could.

“You don’t have to, you need sleep.” You smiled gently at his kindness; he was always kinder to you than the rest of the team.

“And you need to tell the truth Y/N,” he locked eyes with you, almost staring into your soul. “I know you’re in pain, and that you got injured during the explosion. It doesn’t take a profiler to notice that since the explosion, you have winced whenever your back touched something.” You sighed, placing your hands on the table, your eye contact with Spencer continuing. “How bad is it?” He questioned, reaching out to grab your hand in his.

“It’s just a bruise,” you explained, it wasn’t a lie.

“Tell me the truth,” he pressed, reading through your lies.

“My back is killing me, okay? I got injured and my back is killing me.” You admitted, you hated admitting defeat, especially to an injury as minor as a bruise.

“Show me,” he pulled you up, leading you to the snacks area and drawing the curtain. Sighing, you winced as he gently pulled up your shirt. He sucked in a deep breath, his finger gently tracing around the large bruise. “You need to get that checked out you know; it could be serious.” Nodding, you admitted defeat.

“I know it could be. Considering the blast of the explosion threw me into a steel support beam.” Realising your harsh tone, you let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry, it’s just, I know exactly how serious this could be. I’ve been in pain ever since it happened, and even just walking hurts. I just don’t want to admit that I got hurt, okay?” Spencer nodded in understanding.

“Does your head hurt?” Shaking your head, you looked up at him as he towered over you. “Can I just check?” You nodded, relaxing as you felt his fingertips massage your scalp. “I can’t feel a lump, but you could still have a concussion, you should get it checked too. Let’s go sit,” grabbing your hand, he led you back to your seats.

“I just hate being injured, it sucks. I don’t want it to be anything worse than a bruise, even though it probably is. I don’t want to be restricted to desk duty, and not go on cases.” You admitted, relieving a huge weight from your shoulders. Never had you admitted something like this to one of your teammates, but Spencer was different, you wished that he was more than a teammate. “I’m scared Spence,” you whimpered.

“How about I come back to your place tonight, help take care of you. Does that sound okay?” You smiled widely, giving him a nod.

“I’d really appreciate it. Thank you Spencer,” you appreciated Spencer, for everything he had done.

“Always.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer x reader fluff #spencer fluff

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underworld-of-imagines · 4 years ago

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Guardian Angel - Spencer Reid

TW: depression, post-partum depression, mentions of miscarriage, suicide attempt

A/N: So I don’t exactly know where this idea came from, but wherever it did, I’m glad it came. It’s a really long one, and really really sad. I spent almost 2 weeks on it, so I hope you guys enjoy!

He should have noticed. He shouldn’t have ignored the signs; the resentment that you held towards the small human bundled in his arms, the quietness, the reluctance to do anything that involved getting out of bed. He was a profiler for god’s sake. So how didn’t he see this coming?

“Dr. Reid, may I suggest you go home? She won’t be awake for another day at least, and you need rest.” The nurse pressured him as she checked your vitals, examining the machine that was pumping saline into your body.

“Statistically speaking, a normal person can remain awake for 24 hours before serious side effects are exhibited.” Reid mumbled back to the nurse, glancing down at the sleeping baby in his arms.

“I understand that you are a genius Dr. Reid. However, these are different circumstances, and if you were thinking logically, you would understand that your statistics are not reasonable.” Spencer sighed angrily, he knew she was right, there was nothing right about his statistics or reasoning.

“At least have someone come take care of the child. Maybe a close friend or family member? They could bring you some stuff too.” The nurse suggested, motioning towards the bundle who was slowly beginning to awaken. “I’ll be back in an hour to check on your wife, Doctor.” She exited the room swiftly, her footsteps barely audible in the quiet room. If he didn’t hear the door closing gently, he would have thought he imagined the whole thing.

The nurse was right, caring for both you and the baby was hard, and he wasn’t equipped to care for the baby in the small hospital room. Fumbling around in his jacket pocket, he withdrew his phone, that already had a picture of you and your daughter displayed. He smiled gently, almost forgetting everything that was happening around him at the expression on your face. It wasn’t always like this.

After pressing a few buttons, he held his phone to his ear, gently rocking the now fussy baby with his other arm. The dial tone seemed to last forever as he waited for the recipient to answer the phone.

“JJ,” Spencer breathed out as soon as she picked up the phone. “I need a favour,” the sound of shuffling and hushing in the background almost made him relieved.

“Spence, what is it?” JJ’s calming voice crackled over the phone; he could hear his teammates chatting in the background. The voices faded as she stepped away from the group that had gathered around, hoping to hear from Spencer.

“Can you come take Leah? Something is wrong with Y/N, and I just need someone to take care of Leah for me. You’re the person I trust most.” JJ audibly gasped. She knew it was serious, just not serious enough for Spencer to part with Leah. Glancing back at the group, she saw their worried expression, who watched carefully as she shoved stuff into her bag and left the bullpen.

“Okay, where are you?”

*****

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this,” Spencer breathed a sigh of relief as he handed the bundle of blankets to JJ. Somewhere in which, his daughter was sleeping peacefully.

“Of course, it’s not worries Spencer. It’s serious isn’t it? I mean, Y/N is here, and you didn’t even tell Hotch you weren’t coming into work.” Spencer looked back at the door warily before nodding at JJ, who was gently rocking the baby.

“Post-partum depression. I found her yesterday after work, called the ambulance. I’ve been here since.” She sighed sadly, looking down at the baby before back at Spencer, grabbing his hand in hers.

“Don’t blame yourself for this, you did nothing wrong.” She reassured, rubbing his hand with her thumb. He nodded knowingly, he knew he did nothing wrong, but deep down he couldn’t stop blaming himself for not noticing sooner. “I’ll call Hotch for you, try to get some rest okay?” JJ smiled gently, “call me if you need anything.”

Spencer watched as JJ loaded his daughter into the baby seat in her car, thanking his previous self for remembering to grab the car seat in the rush. Minutes later, he was waving goodbye to JJ and walking back in the hospital doors, with his cardigan pulled tightly around his thin frame.

Upon returning to your room, he saw that you were still sleeping peacefully. Admittedly, this was the most peaceful he had seen you since Leah had been born, which created a painful ache in his chest.

How long had you been suffering on your own? Did you cry alone at night when he was gone on cases? What did you feel towards the small girl who grew in your stomach for 9 months? Did you love her? Hate her? Have no feelings about her?

He couldn’t blame you, how could he? He knew what post-partum depression was. It wasn’t your fault. But he also knew he didn’t help you.

Instead he was infatuated with his daughter, spending most of his hours at home with her. His excuse? He wanted to give you a break, let you rest from being a mother constantly. By doing so, he unintentionally ignored you, left you to your own mind.

It’s not anybody’s fault, the doctor’s mantra replayed in his mind. When you were first brought in, the doctor almost immediately diagnosed you, despite you being unconscious. All of the signs were there, and there was no denying it. Spencer had questioned a few things, he knew of post-partum depression, and what it was. But even he had to admit, he didn’t know everything.

Resting his head on his hand, he allowed himself to slowly drift off into a light doze.

*****

The steady beeping of a machine.

The lights that shined brightly even through your closed eyelids.

The offensive smell of sanitiser that invaded your nostrils.

Those were the first things you noticed as you began to drift towards consciousness. Everything was fuzzy, unfamiliar, your mind clouded as you began to panic from the confusion. Where are you?

You didn’t notice the beeping increase slowly, or the shadow cast from the nurse standing beside you. All you could notice was the dense fog that clouded your mind.

“Mrs. Reid,” a voice coaxed, guiding you through the fog with a bright lamp. The person holding the lamp was a little girl, that looked almost exactly like Spencer, just younger, and with longer hair. “Mrs. Reid, are you there?” You chased after the girl, slowly becoming aware of your surroundings in the dark forest. This makes no sense, you thought to yourself as you spun in a slow circle.

“Slowly becoming aware…coming out of consciousness…dreaming…Dr. Hamid.” You only caught fragments of the conversation, still confused about your location. The little girl was now gone, plunged back into darkness you noticed how cold the ground underneath your feet was, how damp the packed dirt felt.

And then the ground fell out beneath you, as you tumbled through the darkness.

*****

“Dr. Reid,” the nurse jogged up to a very exhausted Reid, who was nursing a badly-made coffee between his hands. “We have good news, Y/N has been drifting in and out of consciousness for a few hours now. She is still very drowsy, but we have managed to get some motor functions out of her, mostly eye flickering and little hand movements. But this is good, really good.” Spencer smiled widely, you were making progress, coming back to him, to Leah.

The white walls of the hospital corridor seemed a bit brighter as he followed the nurse down the hallway. If he didn’t know better, he’d call it a hopeful white – compared to the dull colour that he saw before hearing the good news. But he was a profiler, he knew better, the psychology. He was a profiler, but he missed the signs that led to this. Not a very good profiler, apparently.

Your body still laid relaxed in the bed, your dark hair and blue gown contrasting brightly against the clean white sheets. Spencer revelled in how peaceful you look, it reminded him of the first time he realised he loved you. You had spent the night at his place after a rough case, he had spent half of the night trying to sleep, but instead watching how peaceful you were when you slept. That night, before he fell asleep, he gently mumbled that he loved you, and watched as your lips called into a small smile.

“I love you,” he mumbled, hopeful to get a reaction from you. For a second, he could have sworn that he saw your lips twitch upwards, which ignited a fire in his heart. A fire of hope.

“Y/N, I know you’re there somewhere. I’m so sorry I didn’t notice anything. But I need you to pull through. Leah needs you to pull through.” He begged, holding your cold hand tightly in his own. “Please,” he whimpered.

This time when the light appeared again, you were now faced with a very dimly lit hallway, with no apparent end. The young girl stood beside you, her brown curly hair contrasting distinctly against her pale skin and white dress. She held the same lamp, which shone light onto the walls – which had small etchings for as far as you could see.

Curious, you stepped closer to the wall, trying to see what the etchings meant. But all you could see were tiny letters, which you couldn’t read.

“Come on, we need to go.” The girl grabbed your hand, her palm cold against yours. She turned, and walked down the hallway, pulling you along until you fell into step with her.

“These words… what do they mean?” You asked as you walked down the hallway, which gradually lightened in front of you with each step.

“They’re a story, your story more specifically. Don’t you recognise this place?” You shook your head, confused as to what she meant. “It’s your head, the deepest, darkest part of your mind.” She explained, pointing to all of the words on the wall. “This is your story, your memories, everything you’ve ever seen or done, whether or not you remember it. It’s you, Y/N.” Reaching out, you let your hands run over the small bumps as you walked.

“Wait, so if this is everything in my life, who are you?” You questioned, glancing down at the young girl, who looked eerily familiar.

“I’m Annalise,” your jaw dropped to the floor as your face fell. “I suppose you wouldn’t recognise me, you never got to meet me, mum.” Painful memories flooded your mind, your daughter, the one you never met, never held. The one who slipped away too quickly.

“Wha-? How?” The words tumbled out of your mouth; your lips numb as your stared at her.

“I’m your guardian angel. When I died, I became your guardian angel.” Her lips tugged upwards slightly, pulling into a small smile.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you sobbed, the tears immediately streaming from your eyes. Sobs wracked your chest painfully as you doubled over, falling to your knees.

“Don’t apologise mum,” her hand touched your cheek, igniting your skin. “It wasn’t your fault,” she reassured. “I just wasn’t meant to be,” her hand brushed back the locks that had fallen in front of your face.

“Did it hurt?” You asked, relieved as she shook her head gently.

“Not even a little bit.” You smiled through the tears; she didn’t suffer. “Come on, let’s keep going. I want to tell you some stuff.”

You pulled her into a hug, sniffling as you smelled Spencer’s shampoo on her. Grabbing her hand, you pulled yourself into a standing position, smoothing out your nightgown before following her further down the hallway once again.

“All of your family and friends wanted to say hello when they heard where you are. Especially your dad, he was once your guardian, until I came along of course. He said he is so proud of you, for everthing you have accomplished and overcome.” Tears welled in your eyes again at the thought of your father, the man who had taught you everything there was to know about life. “Grandpa trained me, he raised me to be the best guardian angel to you.”

“What is it like up there?” You questioned, pointing towards the ceiling. She smiled apologetically at you.

You hardly believed in heaven, but this, you hoped was a sign. Since childhood, you had prayed to whatever higher being, whether a person or the stars, that there was something after death. This was your sign, of a home, a place to belong after death. And not just the dark abyss of simply not existing anymore.

“It’s the most beautiful place, one big family…. But you don’t belong there, not yet.” She said, sensing your excitement, your relief.

“What do you mean?” You questioned; looking around, you noticed the words had finished, now just plain walls on either side. “Where are the words?” She pointed towards the darkness with the lamp, a door was standing at the end of the hallway.

“The story isn’t finished yet. They don’t exist, because they haven’t been written yet.” She explained, her voice thick as she spoke. “I never got to meet you mum, not properly. It was always my biggest dream to meet you, to get to know you. But this isn’t the way, nor the time.” Tears started falling from your eyes in big drops, running down your cheeks. “You need to go home, to daddy, to Leah.” Glancing at the door, you looked back at your daughter, she was a picture copy of Spencer.

“Will I get to see you again?” She nodded with a smile.

“I’m always here, whenever you need, I’ll guide you. And when it’s time, we will meet again.”

Turning to the door, you placed your hand on the cool knob, turning it before stepping into the light.

*****

Bright lights blinded you as you stared up at the white ceiling. Warmth surrounded you, sinking deep into your bones, to your heart. You closed your eyes blissfully, relishing in the warmth. The air smelled clean, almost too clean. Quiet chatter could be heard in the background. But you still relished in the warmth that surrounded you.

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice broke the silence, forcing you to open your eyes. “Y/N?” He jumped up, crowding over you as he stared into your eyes. “Oh my god, you’re okay.” Pulling you into a tight hug, he shook as he cried, his tears staining your gown.

You’re okay.

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer x reader sad #spencer sad

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underworld-of-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

Pluviophile - Spencer Reid

Prompt: “You were supposed to call me!”

A/N: Hey guys, sorry I haven’t been able to write in a while, work has been hectic as always. But hey, I finally managed to finish this piece, so I hope you enjoy it!

Rain pelted down on the windows, creating a melodic, yet scarily threatening sound against the seemingly thin glass. The occasional crack of lightning made your body jolt almost painfully in the hard plastic chair. Rumbling cacophonies of thunder rolled through your bones, sending chills down your spine.

The day at started out fine, the sun was out, and birds were tweeting happily. But by the time that your lunch break had rolled around, the sky was dark and menacing. Instantly, you knew a storm was brewing, and by the time you were due to go home, it would be bucketing down outside. And with only half an hour left on your shift, and no sight of the rain stopping, you had to find another way home.

Picking up your phone, you contemplated calling your fiancé, Spencer. He was always in-tune with the weather forecasts and had driven to work today out of the expectation for work. Before he left, he reminded you to call him if it was raining outside so he could pick you up on his way back to your shared apartment.

Putting it back on its holder, you sighed, you hated bothering Spencer with small things such as this. Especially when you could easily just get public transport back, rather than making him go out of his way.

With a crackle, the room plunged into darkness, and cries of fear and stress started to ring out from your co-worker’s cubicles. Looking back at your computer screen, you stared into the black abyss that showed. Power in the building had obviously gone out, and moments later dim red lights flicked on, powered by the backup generators. The room fell into a loud chatter as everyone was waiting for the signal to go home, there was no point in staying now. A minute later, the door to your boss’s office creaked open, everyone looked at the buff man expectantly.

“Do not panic guys! Power has gone out most likely because of the storm! We are sending you all home early!” Your boss yelled out, standing atop the break room table. “Collect your stuff and go to the stairwells, we will contact you later about the rest of the week.” Fortunately, it was Wednesday, and you were hoping that the power would remain out for the rest of the week. You needed a good break, just to relax and read.

Collecting your bag, you decided to stay and stare out the window for a while longer, enjoying the sight from behind the glass panes. All of the power on the block had gone out, and only minutes later the roads were filled with cars and people all trying to get home. Everyone had already left the room, save for your boss who was back on the phone with higher management.

“Y/N, I thought I said go home.” Darien sighed, breaking you from your trance. Looking back at him you gave him a soft smile.

“I was just waiting for some of the traffic to calm down boss,” you explained calmly. Truthfully, you just wanted to curl up under your desk and avoid the rain until it stopped so you could get home safely. Spencer had instilled fear in you with one too many facts about accidents in the rain.

“Isn’t Spencer gonna come pick you up?” He questioned, walking up next to you.

“I was gonna call him, but it’s far out of his way and I can’t ask him to come in traffic like this.” Darien nodded knowingly, it was dangerous, there was no doubt about it. “And plus, his little car would probably get flooded on these roads, knowing how bad the drainage around here is.” It definitely wasn’t uncommon for cars to get stranded in storms like this because of flooding.

“Alright, well security has people who are waiting for rides gathering in the lobby. I suggest you join them,” Darien said before walking off towards the door. You turned back to the window, staring into the dark abyss for a few more moments, letting your mind wander. Sighing, you grabbed your belongings, packing them into your bag before making your way towards the stairs.

The lobby was loud, with groups of people packed together, whispering amongst themselves about the current situation. Obviously, nobody from your floor had stuck around, rushing out into the downpour as soon as they possibly could. A few people you recognised, from projects you had worked on together, or people you passed every day in the office. But most people were unfamiliar to you – that or it was too dark outside to see their faces properly.

Outside, the torrential downpour continued, accompanied by deafening strikes of lightning and rolls of thunder. Thankfully, you had never had a fear of storms. In fact, you rather admired them, the anger that they extorted washed a sense of calm over your body whenever the thunder rumbled.

As the rain began to let up, people slowly filtered out of the lobby, deciding to make a run for it whilst it was still daytime. You, however, elected to take nest on one of the now abandoned waiting area chairs – a novel in your hand to pass the time.

Unfortunately, the gap in the rain didn’t last long. And half the people who had rushed to make their ways home, were now stomping back into the lobby, dripping wet. You drowned out the quiet chatter by opening the book to where you had marked off and picking up where you left.

Books had always given you a way of thinking, if not about the book itself (Spencer chose some hard books for you to read sometimes), then about how the book related to your life. Or sometimes rather about the phrase you were reading at the time, and the emotions it invoked within.

Carrying a book with you at all times had become habit, thanks to Spencer. When you first met him, you preferred to carry a device that had e-books. But later, once you spent more time with him, you noticed the large number of books he possessed, and it re-invigorated your love for paper books. The smell of must and paper, it reminded you of the library your brother used to take you to after school, the stories he would read to you. It reminded you of the feeling of safety, of being safe – a feeling you sorely missed.

You hadn’t realised how much time had really passed until you reached the last page of the book. Since being around Spencer, you had started to read faster, but it still took you a decent few hours to finish half of the 500-page book. Looking up, you noticed the darkness that now blanketed the outside world. A few people were still standing about, mostly security guards, but also a few other desk workers. Nobody had bothered you for a few hours, which made you realise just how invisible you could be sometimes – a joke Derek had made to you one of the first times you met him.

Making your way outside, you sighed at the heavy rain that had continued. You couldn’t wait any longer to head home, Spencer would be worried enough as it was. Pulling your jacket off, you draped it over your head before making a run for it, across the road to the train station that ran below the ground.

It wasn’t long before a train arrived, you had managed to find a seat rather quickly, due to the train being moderately empty. ‘25 minutes to home,’ you thought as you stared out at the empty subway platform, 25 minutes to a hot shower.

Trudging up to your apartment door, you had barely gotten the key in the lock before the door was ripped open, an exasperated Spencer standing on the other side. Smiling gently, you walked in the door before kicking off your shoes and throwing your jacket on the ground.

“Where the hell have you been?” Spencer almost yelled as he picked your jacket up off the floor, having already locked the door behind you.

“At work, I don’t know if you noticed, but it’s a bit wet out there.” You replied sarcastically, putting your damp bag onto the kitchen island. “I didn’t wanna wait forever for a train, so I hung out in the lobby at work,” you explained, already shuffling to make a pot of coffee to warm your body up.

“You were supposed to call me!” He reminded, pulling you into a tight hug. “I was terrified, something could have happened to you!” His arms squeezed you tightly, painfully forcing the air out of your lungs.

“Spen-” you choked, tapping his arm to let you go. “Spencer I’m okay,” you reassured. “I just wanted you to get home safely, it was crazy out there, I couldn’t risk calling you to come get me.” You explained calmly, pouring the coffee into two mugs. “Plus, you know how much I like the rain,” he nodded, you often reminded him on rainy days when you’d make your special coffee and curl up to read together.

“Okay, just call me next time okay?” You nodded jokingly; he knew you probably wouldn’t. “I love you,” he pecked your lips gently.

“I love you too.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer x reader fluff #spencer fluff

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