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fandom-imagines-stories · 11 months

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London Rain

Season Two Episode Two

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)

Words: 2303

Series Masterlist

Summary: In an attempt to settle both of their minds, Spencer takes the reader on a vacation to London. Aaron voices some concerns to Dave.

Notes: This season has a lot of darkness, so I wanted to work a little fluff in while I still could. It’s a little chaotic, but this episode is really just meant to be a moment of fun. (I promise after the angsty beginning, it will get cute) Also, I don’t know the actual location of anything in London so I’m doing my best.

Warings: Mentions of alcoholism, mild sexual content

Toothbrush? Check. Wallet? Check. Sticky Note reminding you to call Aaron when you landed? Check. Files to work on so you wouldn’t fall asleep on the plane? Check.

Spencer rested his head against the window beside you and you called over the flight attendant to see if you could get some coffee.

“You should try and get some sleep,” Spence yawned.

You tucked a hair behind his ear. “I’ll be fine.”

Years in the BAU may have trained him to sleep on flights, but you didn’t want to risk what you would see, especially in a space with all of these people. They could all see you. They could watch your every jolt, hear your every whimper and gasping cry.

They would think you’re crazy.

Spencer’s hand rested on your knee until his fingers slipped away and his breathing steadied. You watched him for a moment- eyelashes fluttering, lips slightly parted, and jaw relaxed. His peacefulness surprised you. How long had he been on edge for your sake? The past few months, Spencer didn’t sleep until he was sure you’d fallen asleep first. He woke up in the middle of the night to comfort you from your nightmares, even if he had his own.

How could you not have seen it before, the toll being with you had taken on him?

“Here’s that coffee for you,” the flight attendant smiled.

You downed it quickly, the liquid burning down your throat. It was almost comforting. Familiar.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” She asked. “I can get you a drink menu, if you’d like?”

“Actually, that’d be-” It would be so easy. You could slip back into the relief you once knew. That wonderful numbness…

Spencer’s fingers twitched against your leg, his touch sending sparks of comfort, as well as guilt, up your spine. You looked at him again, a sleepy, crooked smile on his lips, and reminded yourself why you stopped.

You turned back to the flight attendant. “No thank you.”

She nodded and took her cart down the aisle.

The files in your lap gave you plenty to think about. With them, you could push the creeping craving to the back of your mind. As if pretending it wasn’t there would help you forget about it.

“Fog everywhere…” Spencer mumbled.

“What’s that?” You asked, eyes still on the case in your hand.

“Up the river… rolls defiled…”

Switching your attention, you couldn’t help but laugh. The sight alone helped to lighten your mood. Spencer was still sound asleep, but his lips moved slightly, breathing out words that you could barely hear. Slowly, you lifted his hand up to your lips and held it there for a moment, admiring your sleeping boyfriend’s beautiful serenity.

Only Spencer- your Spencer- would recite Dickens in his sleep.

“That sounds great,” Aaron smiled. You sounded genuinely excited, which made him a little less nervous about you being in a different country with everything going on. “Don’t forget to call in a few days or I’ll call Reid to see how you’re doing.”

“Don’t you dare,” you laughed.

He switched the phone to his other ear and continued filling out the paperwork he’d been working on. “Just have fun, okay? You deserve some time off and so does he.”

A scuffle on the other end followed by Reid’s guiding voice interrupted you. “Hey, I have to go. I promise I’ll call, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said. “Bye.”

Aaron hung up the phone and tried to put his worries to rest, at least for now. This trip was a good thing. You could clear your head for a while and Reid could spend more time with you.

One of the hardest things about their job was that they couldn’t be there for you through your recovery. The constant back and forth, having you stay with Haley because they were worried about you sleepwalking in the apartment alone, not being able to make sure whether or not you had been able to move on was hard on both of the men in your life.

“Did they get in okay?” Dave asked, never failing to appear in his doorway at the moments he needed him.

Aaron nodded. “They should be on their way to the hotel now.”

“Oh to be young and in love,” Dave mused, chuckling. “They’ve been together for how long now?”

“Almost a year.”

He took a seat across from Aaron’s desk with a smirk. “It has to be kind of weird right? I mean… It's Reid.”

Hotch shook his head. “I try not to think about it most of the time.”

Both laughed, but there was something about the way Aaron kept glancing at the phone or trying to distract himself by filling out another form.

“Alright,” Dave said. “What is it?”

Aaron glanced up at him, frowning.

“Is it about Reid’s outburst on the plane?” He asked. “I can’t blame the poor kid. How they’re handling all of this…” He blew out a breath.

Aaron set down his pen and ran a hand down his face. “That’s the thing,” he sighed. “They aren’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“Reid was right. Y/N is pretending everything is fine. She doesn’t want to interrupt our lives so she’s just forcing herself to suffer alone,” Aaron leaned back in his chair. “And, while I think Reid is trying his best, he’s so afraid of losing her that he won’t push her.”

Dave nodded. “I guess he isn’t really the ‘tough love’ type, huh?” He crossed his arms and watched his old friend carefully. “How do you know she isn’t getting better? It’s been a couple of months. Maybe she’s coming to terms with it on her own.”

“Because I know my sister,” Aaron said firmly. “I was there the first time. I know what her reassuring smiles really hide. She’s burying herself in work, she’s closing herself off to everyone who cares about her, and sooner or later, she is going to spiral and she’s going to try and do it alone.”

“I wonder where she picked that up from,” Dave pointed out.

Aaron’s face darkened, his restlessness telling on him. “Y/N killed Sarah Cunningham. She shot her point blank in the chest.”

“Mrs. Cunningham was going to get as many of us to inhale Strychnine as she could,” Dave reasoned. “It was self defense.”

“Y/N has been called a killer since she was fifteen.” Aaron’s eyes flicked over to the photograph on his desk of the two of you at your graduation. “Now she believes she is one. And to her… that makes her just like her mother.”

The thing that killed him the most is that he couldn’t just wrap you up and make you hot chocolate every time you had a nightmare like he did when you were young. He couldn’t convince you things would be okay simply because he was your big brother and he was in the FBI so he must know. When you were just fifteen and scared and he was the only one there for you.

You changed when you left for school. You didn’t ask for help anymore. You learned not to trust and you learned that being vulnerable with someone made you a target.

Now, Aaron feared that, in your attempts to protect the ones around you, you would tear yourself apart.

As much as you wanted to sit and enjoy the view from the hotel window, you could feel yourself starting to drift.

“I told you you should have slept on the plane,” Spencer teased, looking over yet another brochure.

“I’ll just have another coffee,” you shrugged. You cursed the yawn that escaped your mouth.

Spencer put his things aside and climbed up to the top of the bed. He patted the spot beside him.

“Spence, I told you, I’m fine.”

“And I am choosing to ignore you,” he said and adjusted the pillows. “Come on, I’m tired too.”

“This isn’t going to help with jetlag-”

“Do you want to cuddle with me or not?” His attempt at sounding firm made even him laugh. You exhaled and slid your suitcase under the desk before jumping into bed beside him. You both kicked off your shoes and you started giggling.

“Don’t you think those are a little… I don’t know, on the nose?” You snickered.

He followed your gaze down to his socks. The mismatched pair included images of a tiny Big Ben on one foot and a bunch of flying T.A.R.D.I.S’s on the other.

He pouted. “I think they’re fun.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right, they are very fun,” you kissed his pouting lips, turning it into a smirk.

His fingers splayed over your cheek, urging you closer. Your hands went to his long, mousy hair and your legs wrapped around his waist as he rolled on top of you.

From his fingers tracing your skin to your lips on his neck, you let everything else fall into the sound of sighs. Hovering above yours, his eyes embraced every fear, every remorse, every desire to hide away.

And when you fell asleep in his arms, you didn’t dream.

All around you, people sat, creating a sun of studying and researching and just reading for fun. The environment invited you to escape into a world that wasn’t your own.

And that’s exactly what you did.

Each page pulled you further out of your mind and into the words. You’d almost forgotten the power of a good book, even in the nights snuggled next to Spencer as he read, you were always worried about seeming better, acting like you were better, pretending for his sake. Here, in this massive, beautiful library amongst scholars and authors and people who had no idea who you were, you transported back to the nights almost a year ago when you could just be you.

By the end of the book, your eyes drooped and your chin slipped from your palm, giving you an awakening jolt. Taking a look around, you realized that most of the people you’d been sitting with had either been replaced or left empty seats around you. Then you looked at the time.

Five hours?

You snapped the book shut with a satisfied sigh and left your seat to go find Spencer. Second largest library in the world, so how hard could it be?

It was your idea to split up in the first place, since he would be able to move through volumes much faster than you, you didn’t want to make him feel obligated to slow down. However, when you found the familiar head of chin length brown hair hidden behind a stack of books the length of your arm, your jaw dropped.

“Don’t tell me you got through all of those,” you exclaimed.

Spencer’s head perked up from the book he was buried in. He pointed to a second stack beside his chair. “And those.”

You groaned with jealousy and plopped down beside him. “I’m starving, do you want to go grab something to eat?”

His eyes widened and he checked his watch. “Oh god, we’re going to be late.” He frantically started carrying his books to the return cart.

You tilted your head. “Late for what?”

“Dinner.” He grabbed your hand and- to your surprise, started running.

“Spencer!” You gasped, hurrying to catch up with him and his lanky legs. People turned to watch you with disapproving glares, but he kept running even after you got out of the library. “Where are we going?”

“The Ivy.”

You stopped dead. “You got us reservations at The Ivy?”

Spence tugged on your arm. “Yes, and we are going to be late if we don’t hurry.”

So there you were, sprinting through the streets of London, hands locked together and heads thrown back with laughter.

It almost didn’t feel real. With wind racing through your hair and Spencer’s thumb lovingly rubbing the back of your hand and the world blurred around you, there was a lightness in your heart you hadn’t felt in months.

Even the shroud of gray clouds overhead seemed to sigh with relief. The rain startled softly, then matched your racing pace. Through the downpour, Spence looked back at you, hazel eyes bright with a joy that you could get drunk on.

“This is perfect!” You cried over the sound of the rain.

“What?”

Your laugh rang like a sweet bell under the chorus of water hitting pavement. “I said this is perfect!”

Spence stopped suddenly and you collided into him. His arms locked around you and he lifted you off of your feet.

“Spence!” You squealed, interrupted by his lips pressing against yours. He held you there, feet dangling and lips locked until you both had to catch your breath.

His grin lit up his face. “Okay, let’s go.”

And you took off again.

By the time you reached the restaurant, your clothes were completely soaked through and your legs burned from sprinting God knows how many blocks. The host’s eyes widened at the sight of you.

“Can I… help you?” She asked.

“Um- yes- uh-” Spence stammered between gasps. “Reservation for Reid.”

She must have checked her list at least three times to make sure it was right.

“Right this way Dr. and Mrs. Reid.”

Your heart jumped into your throat. Spencer held up a hand.

“Actually,” he said, “she’s Dr. as well.”

Your eyes snapped to his face, red rushing to your cheeks. Maybe he didn’t realize the importance of his correction- or rather, what he chose not to correct. When he turned back to you, you were beaming.

“Come on,” he smiled, taking your hand once more. You followed him with the sound of the name echoing in your heart.

The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt; hereforsmutbcicantgetenough; violetbossler; hyper-half-blood; i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48; @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02

#dr. spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #criminal minds imagines #dr. spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #the in betweens #cute spencer reid #criminal minds series

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underworld-of-imagines · 1 year

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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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spentfromspence · 1 year

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Language Barrier

Before you read, please know I did VERY little research on the language Scottish Gaelic, so if anything is wrong please forgive me. Anyway, short drabble, mostly diallage, 514 words. Enjoy 💖

Hotch watched as Spencer walked into the office, he began to approach Reid and see if he got any new info from the witness he talked to.

“Reid, anything new?” Spencer set his messenger bag down on a chair and met eyes briefly with Hotch. “No, there's nothing new.” Spencer’s lips thinned, making that face he always does. Hotch raised an eyebrow, he was out for about an hour, how did he not get anything new? “Why not?” Hotch questioned the younger man, Spencer was quick to respond. “Language Barrier.” Spencer shrugged. Hotch was used to his short, blunt, point blank answers, oftentimes Spencer didn’t see any reason to say more unless someone asked him to explain in depth or he’s splurging out statistics. “How could there be a language barrier? I thought you could speak hundreds of languages fluently.” Hotch was even more confused now, Spencer once mentioned how he could speak many languages, fluently even. “Well, actually, I know 1081 languages fluently, and there's over 7000 in the world. Although I do also know a bit of 5997 different languages, just not as fluent. I’m working on it.” Spencer says it so casually, as if everyone can do this and he’s not a literal genius. Hotch takes a moment to take everything in, it’s hard to be shocked by the agent anymore, but this was definitely shocking. He decided he’d ask Spencer more about it later, right now he needed more information on the case, and he needed to know why Spencer didn’t get any new info. “Well…” He looked at the floor as he rubbed his temple, sighing. “Do you know what language they spoke at least?” Hotch looked up to Spencer digging through his messenger bag, pulling out a Hall, a type of cough medicine. He unwrapped it and popped it in his mouth, swishing it around with his tongue for a moment. “She spoke Scottish Gaelic. It was shocking to hear because only approximately 87,000 people speak it, and the majority of those people live in Scotland. I know it may be shocking to learn that I don’t know the language considering it’s been spoken for 1500 years, I just haven’t gotten around to it. I didn’t think I’d meet anyone who spoke it, guess I should always be prepared. I suppose I’ll have to learn it after this case is over.” Spencer rambled and rambled, speaking hastily but not tripping over his words. He only ever paused shortly to swirl the cough drop in his mouth. Hotch didn��t have a response, he just stared at Spencer. In both amazement and out of being weirded out, he seemed to do this often when it came to Spencer's rambles. “I…I suppose you will have to learn it after this case…” He stared at Spencer another second longer, trying to comprehend how Spencer does it, retaining so much information at once, never forgetting a single bit of it. “You amaze me Reid.” And with that he walked off, hoping to find the coffee machine freshly filled in the staff room.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #cm #aaron hotchner #drabble #oneshot #cute spencer reid #confused aaron hotchner #autistic spencer reid #language barrier #Scottish Gaelic #short story #fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction

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incognit0slut · 4 months

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He’s just a 43 year old baby :(

#he’s so cute #i wanna poke him #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader

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0stargirl0 · 21 days

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Guys his necklace is rumple buttercup

#criminal minds #spencer reid #god he’s so pretty #mathew gray gubler #he is my husband #i’m giggling #spencer reid x reader #mgg pics #mgg #mgg imagine #he is so cute #rumple buttercup

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cumulo-stratus · 3 months

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Guys look they're literally besties

#criminal minds #spencer reid #bau #cute #bau team #mgg #Penelope Garcia #penelope garcia x reader #spencer reid x reader #kristen vangsness

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hornyramostan · 8 months

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matthew gray gubler selfies, that's it

#mmg #hes so pretty #so cute #matthew gray gubler #that smile 😫#criminal minds #spencer reid #68 kill

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whoisspence · 28 days

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i love you sweater vest boy, i love you

#nobody looks this good in sweater vests #cmon he looks so cute i can't #spencer reid #criminal minds #whoisspence

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reiderwriter · 7 months

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Elevator Pitch

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 2k!!

Warnings: Smut, fingering, semi-public sex/ foreplay, praise kink-ish, some pet names completely ignored Spencer's germophobia to make this work 18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: Getting trapped in an elevator is never fun, but at least the attractive you're sharing the metal box of death with has an interesting idea about how you can pass the time.

A/N: This is just a really quick drabble for @imagining-in-the-margins Meet Cute challenge for this month!! I have an idea for another one that I'll post closer to Halloween too, so look forward to that alongside all the kinktober fics 👀

Check out my masterlist here!

You weren't planning on running late on your very first day on your new team, but here you were. You were scheduled to meet Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner in his office at 9 a.m. sharp, and here you were at 8:57, trapped inside an elevator. At least you weren't alone, but alone with a stranger, and one who seemed to be talkative in the worst way wasn't exactly ideal either.

"Hey, don't panic. There are about 6 elevator-related deaths per year and about 100,000 injuries. I'm pretty confident about those statistics." He said, taking a sip of his coffee as he stood calmly by the door, pressing buttons and waiting for something to happen.

"Oh god, I'm gonna die in here." You whimpered a little bit, falling to your knees and screwing your eyes shut.

"No, I said we're not gonna die. Or its at least very unlikely."

"And I'm supposed to trust you?"

"Yes, I'm very good with numbers. Elevator accidents account for 0.00024% of all elevators in service in the US. There you don't have to panic anymore." Almost punctuating his words, the elevator gave a low groan and fell an inch lower, pushing him off balance and toppling to the floor right next to you.

"That was just unfortunate timing." He said, his breath hitting your face. Your eyes opened again finally, and you noticed that due to his topple, he was way closer than before, face merely inches from your own. Whoever this overconfident stranger was, he was attractive. Distractingly so, as you didn't respond to his sentence the entire time he was there in front of you, words suddenly escaping you as you stared into his dark, wide eyes.

"Mechanical issues are the cause of about 15.3% of elevator incidents. Since we're in Quantico, we can probably rule out foul play, which means that they'll probably have us back up and running in around 27 minutes." Opening his mouth ruined the fantasy for a minute, waking you up to the reality of your situation.

"Did you work an elevator case or something, why do you know so much about this?" You regretted the question as soon as you asked it, as he launched into another speech.

"I read the statistical reports published by the CPSC and the OSHA. It’s really interesting stuff actually, there are-”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way but I need you to shut up. I don’t think I can take any more statistics about my inevitable death by elevator. Can we do something else instead?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Can you… Can you hold my hand?” You felt yourself flush red the second the words left your mouth, and suddenly it was your turn to talk too much. “My mom used to do it when I was scared as a kid, and obviously you’re not my mom, and you don’t even know me, but I thought it could help comfort both of us. Human contact and touch is supposedly comforting in times of distress so I just thought…” He cut you off by silently grabbing your hand and settling into a seated position beside you and you sent a little prayer up to god to spare both your soul and your heart.

Because Jesus Christ it was beating hard now.

“Oxytocin,” he said and you looked up at him with a questioning look. “Oxytocin is released when you come into contact with other people, it’s the reason newborn babies benefit from skin-to-skin contact and why humans enjoy petting domestic animals so much. And the whole sex to destress thing.” He nodded and looked away, but you could have sworn the oxygen was completely sucked out of the room when he mentioned sex.

“Sex?” He turned to you as you said the word, as if processing the conversation you were in the middle of it.

“Yeah, never heard of it?” You rolled your eyes and squeezed his hand in your own for a second, but his body was leaning closer into yours now, his entire attention on you, as if he expected you to answer the question.

“Of course I have.”

“And what do you think? Can it help you de-stress?”

Your mouth moves before you can stop it. “Can we stop talking about this please, I’m already scared, I don’t need to be scared and horny.” You close your eyes and groan as his widen again, and suddenly you’re praying again, but this time you wouldn’t really mind if you became one of those six elevator malfunction deaths.

“I don’t know, maybe it would help you. There are some studies that show that stress can have aphrodisiacal impacts in women, you know?” His voice was light, but your entire body stiffened as you looked into his eyes, trying to gauge what this stranger was offering.

“So what, you’re suggesting I just get more and more turned on until I’m not worried about death?”

“No, I’m suggesting I close the gap between us and distract you for a while.” You spared a glance down to his lips then, his tongue darting out to lick them and pulling you in closer. You nodded quickly, a small movement and he pushed his lips down into yours.

He was soft at first, and you almost felt like pulling away and scalding yourself for engaging in risky behavior during a near-death experience. But just as you moved to pull away, his hand came up to your hair and you melted right back into him, the kiss deepening as you slanted your neck up to give up more of yourself to him.

You barely feel his hands pulling you into his lap, but you’re suddenly there and so happy you are. Your free hand wanders up to his chest as he squeezes your connected digits again, sending your heart into a fit of palpitations. In a panic you pull away, groaning a little as you can feel his not stiff member poking between your legs.

“Sorry, I don’t think we exchanged names. I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N..”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” His lips fall down to your neck as he whispers the words into your skin, and you let your head fall back as his hands untangle from you and fall to your hips, encouraging your movements as you begin grinding over him.

“And you said we had twenty-seven minutes before we’re free, right?”

“Whose the one talking too much now?” He bit into your neck sharply then, and you moaned out, battling the urge to let him take you there on the elevator floor. From it’s perch on your hip, his hand slips down and pops the button in your pants, pushing inside and finally touching you through your panties.

“That’s it, good girl, just keep grinding down on me.” Unconsciously, you press your hips into his hands, the pressure leaving you letting out a whistful sigh of relief.

“God,… Should we be doing this here?” Your words were unsure, but your movements weren’t as you pushed yourself into him again and again, desperate to feel more of him as he rubbed circles into your clit, driving you closer and closer to your peak.

“Let’s assume for now that the elevator malfunction has wiped out the CCTV,” he says, lips pressing against your skin as you lose yourself in his touch again. “We absolutely should be doing this.”

His words fell straight to your core, and you felt yourself grow more aroused as you pondered being caught in such an intimate position with a stranger.

“You think you can cum right here, baby? Think you can give me one soon?” His words almost sent you over the edge, his smile widening as your hips twitched over his.

“Fuck, yes, yes, please, don’t stop.”

“Not so scared about this elevator anymore are you? Or did you want to spend your last moments coming undone in my hands?” With his words, you lost the ability to speak, simply moaning out your agreement to his every word.

“I think I can hear someone talking through the walls, baby, you’re going to have to cum now for me, can you do that?” You nodded to him as he increased his pace on your words, and within seconds, you were letting it all out, head falling against his shoulder as you twitched through your orgasm. He pulled his hands out of your pants quickly and pressed a kiss to your lips, pulling you up to a standing position and making you look presentable as the doors to the elevator were finally pried open from the other side.

“Hey, how are you guys holding up in there?” The call came from the maintenance staff, and you were sudden;y thankful that he’d finished you off when he did because as horny as you’d been, actually getting caught like that was something entirely different than the fantasy of it.

You’re almost sorry that you have to leave when you do, suddenly absolutely involved in helping him “destress” the same way he’d helped you out. But he removes his hands from you and strikes up a conversation with the maintenance staff working to get your elevator level with the floor doors. You gravitate to the back of the stall, gripping the railing while your brain catches up to the circumstances.

In no time, the elevator is back in working order, and you and your stranger are stepping foot on steady ground again, and saying your goodbyes.

“Aaron Hotchner’s office is through those doors. Up the stairs to the left.” He smiles and nods at you before turning down the corridor and leaving you there by yourself. A glance at your clock tells you you’re too late to question his words, and how he even knew where you were going. You take off down the hall, ready to profusely apologize to your new boss and pledge to take the stairs for the rest of your days.

When Hotch finally greets you, he has already heard about the elevator malfunction, and all is thankfully forgiven. You have to bite your tongue before asking if everyone on this floor is psychic. But you’re still late, and you have a case, so your introductions have to take place in the briefing room and you half-run, half-walk behind the older man as he makes his way down the hall.

“Everyone we have a new team member today, please help her out for this first one and show her the ropes.” He introduces you by name, and you’re suddenly doing your best to memorize the names of a Prentiss, a Rossi, a Morgan, a JJ, and one Penelope Garcia. They seem to be waiting for someone else, but with the clock ticking, Penelope begins debriefing you on the next case.

“Sorry I’m late,” a voice calls from the door, and you feel the hairs on your neck stand up in shock as everyone slowly turns to greet the newcomer.

“What time do you call this?” Morgan laughs as the familiar man approaches, and a quick glance around tells you that the only seat left at the table, which had been so obviously reserved by the pile of paper files in contrast to everyone else's digital alternatives, was right next to you.

“Spencer, we have a new team member, this is Y/N. She’ll be joining us on cases from today onwards.” Hotch quickly says, and you lock eyes with the man just as he falls into his seat.

“I think we’re acquainted. Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Spencer Reid.” The room falls silent as he holds out his hand for you to shake, and you do your best to not show your shock and embarrassment on your face. You let your hand fall into his, the same one that you’d held earlier, the same one that had worked you up to the edge and then helped you pour over it, the same one that had pulled you together afterward. You said nothing after you’d finally pulled apart, waiting for him to make the next move once again.

“I look forward to working with you.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds smut #meet cute #mentioningmargins

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lillysdreaminnn · 1 month

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Thinking about how Spencer Reid is not a fan of physical touch but when he gets a partner???????????? That man is all up in you space - if you're comfortable with it as well of course.

Hugging, hand holding, kissing, cuddling in his bed, on his couch, in the jet if you're a part of the BAU.

This man is so touch starved he loves any sort of physical affection from you. Even if it is just as much as holding his pinky - or him holding yours, depends - when walking down the street or big crowds, even if you both dislike crowds.

He just loves loves loves touching you in any sort of way, any time of the day, for any reason he'll find.

You're cooking? Hugs from behind.

You're doing the dishes? Hugs from behind.

You're reading? His head is on your chest or lap and your fingers are running through his hair or your head is on his chest and he does the same to you.

You're sleeping? Surprise; Spencer is holding you or is ON you, being your weighted blanket or using you as his blanket, pulling you on him.

That's all 😊

#spencer reid #he's so cute #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x you #thoughts are being thunk

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piqtescue · 7 months

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pretty boy✨

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velvetwilde · 13 days

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He's my babygirl

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underworld-of-imagines · 1 year

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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.

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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.

#spencer imagine #cute spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #spencer reid #gender neutral reader

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