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velvetcloxds · 9 months

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if you're too shy- send me a character and a scenario and I'll write a little baby blurb for it

Enemies to lovers kinda thing where reader or spencer admits feelings accidentally, like a slip of tongue maybe.

I'LL KEEP YOU WARM | S.R.

word count: 1.6k (stop)

warnings: one-bed trope, fem!reader- also I didn't literally have them say ily but he does admit to not hating the reader and in fact caring for the reader which is basically ily in enemies to lovers

You had spent nearly an hour next to Spencer considering the very creative and unprofessional things you’d planned to text Penelope in the morning once you could charge your phone on the jet, all of which would surely be forgotten in the morning, but it was a very good distraction from your current situation. You and Penelope had a general disagreement about the status of your relationship with Spencer Reid, your partner for the last few months. You were sure without a single doubt that he absolutely hated you, Penelope believed that what felt like hate was really pent-up tension that needed to be released- by putting the two of you together in one room with only one bed, she had clearly decided it was time for the tension to be released.

You were lucky the case had taken so much out of the team, neither of you thinking too much of the little double bed you were stuck in, just skipping through the shower and crawling under the questionable sheets. Spencer was asleep by the time you got into bed, and you were quite grateful he didn’t have to witness the sight of you shivering in the skimpy Bambi pajamas that should’ve been thrown away ages ago. How were you to know on the night you’d be there it would all of a sudden be cold? Basically, the sleeping arrangement wasn’t all that encouraging to sleep, you were cold, in the bed with someone you found alarmingly attractive that just so happened to hate you, and being in said bed with him meant you had to leave your comfort stuffed animal in your go bag.

You were careful when you rolled over, knowing you’d be much closer to Spencer than you should be, balled up still, holding an extra pillow against your chest and the neon sign just across the street made for good lighting in the supposed to be dark room. He was much prettier like this, you decided, quiet and unconscious, perfect to look at without being met with some dismissing comment or gesture that you’d replay for the rest of the day. Like this you could appreciate the little dimple that dipped right beside his lips even when he wasn’t smiling, or the little beauty marks you wouldn’t see if you weren’t looking for them, or the fact that his hair smelled like pomegranate- you were always sure it was something fruity, never sure which fruit but now you knew, you’d think about him every time you smelled pomegranate.

Your head dipped further into the pillow when he moved, sighed as if something interesting was happening in his head even asleep, of course it would, his hair fell over his eyes, and you had to clutch the pillow tighter to stop yourself from reaching forward and moving the hair away from distorting your view. You wondered as you wondered before what had made him so very set in his distain for you, you’d been very encouraging of all his quirks and habits, in fact you thought they accommodated your own surprisingly well. Yet he’s been acting a proper nightmare since Hotch reassigned the two of you to the same car, as if all of a sudden, your very existence was a thorn in his side and you wished you could remove yourself for his sake but Hotch was adamantly against the paperwork of it all.

“Why do you hate me, Spencer Reid?” you sighed, the question too quiet for even you to hear but you had to put it out there for even a second, shifting into the little cocoon you’d created by tucking the blanket under your bum and around your feet, but you were interrupted. Spencer was still moving, another sigh, much less dreamy this time as he tried to tug on the blanket, probably just as cold as you were, one more tug and you realized he was trying to pull it away from where it was tucked under you, his eyes opened with a disgruntled question.

“Y/n?” it sounded like a mixture of surprise and realization, like he’d somehow forgotten you were there in the first place, or like he’d assumed you’d find some other sleeping arrangements after your shower- you’d tried, Emily wasn’t fond of sharing or rather wasn’t fond of kicking you off the bed through the night and JJ was stuck in a single bed, not like you’d ask Derek or Hotch though the thought had definitely crossed your mind.

“Sorry,” you whispered almost on instinct, moving forward completely accidentally and his tired gaze focussed instantly. “Sorry,” you whispered again, and when you allowed him to take more of the blanket his hand brushed over your shoulder. The shiver it created was both due to the sudden touch and the sudden warmth. “Sorry,” you tried to move back, save him from the cold of your skin.

“You’re freezing,” he noted, and you wanted to explain yourself, apologetic even for your own disdain of the weather but he didn’t give you much time, gently stealing the pillow from your grip and chucking it across the room, silencing your indistinct questions by pulling you against him. “I was waiting for you to get out of the shower and I must've fallen asleep," he explained, and you didn’t know what to do with yourself when he gently guided your head to rest against his chest, on his pillow, in fact, you were sure this was some sleep-deprived hallucination that you’d have to scorn yourself for conjuring. “I assumed that you hadn’t packed for the cold even though I always tell you to.”

“It was supposed to be sunny,” you argued, and he scoffed a soft sound, you felt it against your ear, and you didn’t know what to do about that either. He dragged a finger up your arm, flicked the frilly pink sleeve of your shirt, and shook his head, you felt that too. In fact, you could feel him breathing, could feel his pulse right through his long-sleeved shirt.

“I told you it wouldn’t be,” he fought, and you had to see him, couldn’t let him scorn you with your face buried between his pecks, so you tilted your head back, trying to ignore that it forced your bodies to shift closer somehow.

“And you know more than the weathermen now?” he shrugged, and the roll of your eyes was the closest you’d ever come to taking him on for his attitude towards you, it was also his signal that you were done so he tightened his hold, fighting a smirk when you didn’t fight him. He was warm, impossibly warm considering the room, you wished you could steal every ounce of warmth right from him, and the hand that slid up his arm under his sleeve to wrap around his wrist had a mind of its own and you’d be embarrassed were you not so desperate. “Sorry,” you realized but he stopped you before you could pull away, fingers circling your arm to keep you still.

“Stop apologizing,” his tone was odd, you couldn’t read it, you could rarely read him to begin with but enough to know just how far to stay away from him that day, but this was new, rushed, forced, like he didn’t think it through which isn’t a characteristic the man holds. “I don’t mind, I don’t want you to be cold,” he explained and he made it sound just as logical as one of the little facts he’d share with the team, as if cuddling someone you disliked was entirely logical as well.

“Why not?”

“What do you mean, why not? Why would I want you to be cold?” why on earth was that such a silly thing to expect of him, you shrugged, you didn’t know what to say, like you’d ever for a second considered that the man cared enough to even think about what you feel let alone care about how you feel. “I don’t want you to be cold,” he was softer when he repeated it and the grip he had turned to something so soft there wasn’t even a word for it, like he’d realized what he was doing and in a second it became less about keeping you warm and more just about keeping you in his arms. “I care about you, why wouldn’t I care about you being cold,” Your thumb brushed up and down his skin, too comfortable.

“You care about me?” he’d never admit to anyone, let alone himself how much it pained him to hear the surprise in your voice, the genuine disbelieve you’d feel towards such a simple statement, such an obvious declaration, you were his partner, his teammate, his friend, his- well you were someone he cared about, and he’d made a proper mess of things if you thought otherwise.

“Well, I sure as hell don’t hate you,” you bit your lip, of course he’d heard that, even in his sleep he’s a proper pain in the behind, hear all, know all. “It’s late,” he decided even though he had no clue of what the time was, he just couldn’t talk about this anymore. “We’ve had a long day, you should get some sleep.”

“Spencer." Why you wanted to explain yourself you didn’t know, it’s not like he hadn’t given you copious amounts of evidence proving he disliked you, so why would he expect you'd thought he felt anything else. “I’m sorry,” he scoffed, squeezing you lightly.

“Stop apologizing to me,” his chin rested on the top of your head, the most foreign feeling yet it came so naturally to him, just like leaning into him felt natural to you, like your bodies knew what to do when your minds didn’t. “Get some sleep,” he relished in the feeling of you melting into him, like he was giving you permission to do so. “I’ll keep you warm,” and he did, even when he’d convinced himself to fall asleep, he was sure to keep an arm around you in whatever position you’d shifted to, to keep you warm, only to keep you warm- even when the sun came up, even when the cold fled the room. In the morning he’d wonder when the cold had fled from his heart.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #monique's writing events #monique's event days #right where queue left me

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sodamnflossy · 2 years

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#sam reid #jacob anderson #louis de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt #loustat #interview with the vampire #iwtv #iwtvgif #iwtvedit #sdf:gif #queue

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amazingmaeve · 1 year

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EMILY PRENTISS & SPENCER REID

6x17 valhalla

Criminal Minds (2005–2020)

#emily prentiss #emilyprentissedit #emily prentiss gifs #emily prentiss gif #spencerreidedit #spencer reid #spencer reid gifs #spencer reid gif #paget brewster #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #criminalmindsedit #criminal minds gifs #criminal minds gif #criminal minds season 6 #criminal minds s6ep17 #my gifs #queue me up scotty

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jenny-from-the-bau · 8 months

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they are all judging you so much

#queue #og #criminal minds #cm #cmedit #cmedits #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #jj #aaron hotchner #hotch #spencer reid

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bonkers-4-hatter · 2 months

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@sacredwarrior88 asked: To celebrate my birthday today, may I please request headcanons for Hotch, Derek, and Spencer having a female S/O who owns a bar that’s famous for selling special drinks based off certain characters like this?

Of course!!!! I know I already told you, but Happy Birthday! I hope you had a great one!!! I hope you enjoy the headcannons hun!! <3 <3 <3 You're amazing! :)

Headcannons with !Female S/O that make drinks around their personalities:

Hotch (The Black Manhattan):

You were closing up the bar for the night, you decided to close early since Aaron said he was leaving work early.

He recently closed an intense case and you were glad he was listening to your advice of taking a break before jumping into more work.

The front door of the bar opened and Aaron walked through locking the door back up and made his way toward you.

You noticed his feet dragged a little bit making you worry.

"Hey there handsome, sit down I got the thing you need."

He smiled softly at you and sat at a barstool.

You started to pull out ingridients and glasses. You saw the perplexed look on his face.

"I know that look Aaron, we can talk about it at home, for now let me make you a drink, something new I thought of. You'll like it."

You can see his eyes analyzing the ingridients in front of him. "Coming up with a profile for the drink I'm making?"

He gave a short laugh. "Something like that Y/N."

I grabbed a glass and filled it with ice, adding Rye, Amaro, Aromatic Bitter, Orange Bitters and stirred. Aaron had a relaxed look on his face as he watched me work.

Straining the liquid in a double old fashioned glass, I garnished it with an orange peel on top and slid it out to him on the bar top.

"One Black Manhattan on the house"

Aaron thanked me and took a drink.

"It's an elegant drink that has a bittersweet taste, but the aftermath leaves your mouth sweet and wanting more...kinda like you Aaron."

He laughed finishing the drink. "It was a great drink Y/N, can I give you a tip?"

"Sure?" I wasn't sure where he was going until he leaned over the bar top and kissed me.

Spencer (Lemon Lime & Bitters):

It was late, about 3:00 AM and you were cleaning up from a busy Saturday night. You let your two employees go as your boyfriend Spencer said he was coming to help you close up.

A soft knock on the front entrance made you look up.

Spencer was there with a smile on his face waving. I went and let him in giving him a hug as I closed and locked the door.

"Thank you for helping Spence! You're the best!"

"Of course Y/N, I'm sure you're exhausted after tonight. I wanted to make sure you got home safe and I didn't want you alone here."

You smiled and grabbed his hand, leading him to the bar.

"Take a seat, I'll whip up a drink for you, and yes, it'll be 99% non-alcoholic, I promise."

Spencer smiled happy you remembered he was taking new medication and couldn't really drink.

"This drink reminds me of you, but since you love your puzzles, I'll let you try to figure it out as I make it."

He smiled as I started to gather my ingridients. I saw his eyes glancing at the labels and I could practically see the gears turning in his cute little head.

I fill a glass to the top with ice, chopped a lime in half and squeezed the juice of half of it into the glass. Then, I filled the glass with lemonade then topped it off with five drops of Angostura Bitters before stirring and adding a slice of lemon and lime.

Sliding the drink over to Spencer, I gave him a warm smile. "Here we go, one Lemon Lime and Bitters on the house for one cute special agent."

I saw his cheeks flush. "Thank you Y/N." I watched as he took a drink as he let our a sigh.

"It's really refreshing and kind of sweet with the lemonade."

"It reminds me of you Spence. Someone who's refreshing, sweet and pretty to look at."

I laughed as his face turned beet red.

Derek (Cuban Old Fashioned):

It was winding down at your bar as a familiar face walked in. It was none other than Derek himself with a swagger in his step as usual.

"Hey babygirl!" His voice was loud and proud as the few stragglers looked up at him as I waved back a goofy smile on my face.

I ran around the bar and hugged him, as he hugged me back. "Alright, you guys gotta go, my girl needs to close up."

The few stragglers who were intimidated by him followed his instructions as they slugged off thorugh the front door which I closed and locked up.

Turning to Derek, I put my hand up to my forehead and 'swooned'. "Oh, my hero." He laughed at my dramatic display before cleaning up the tables the stragglers were at and flipped the chairs upside down so the cleaning crew could sweep.

I was finishing some things behind the bar as he slipped into one of the barstools, his eyes following me as I cleaned.

"Ya know, it's rude to stare at a bartender when shes not making you a drink." He laughed and looked me up and down. "Then how about makin' me a drink babygirl?"

I roll my eyes but get some ingridients out. "One mystery cocktail coming up...wanna take a guess at what I'm making mr. profiler?"

I take a cocktail shaker out and add bourbon, simple syrup, fresh lime juice and Angostura bitters. Filling it with ice, I pop the top on and shake it all vigorously.

I did a few tricks with the cocktail shaker, flipping it, shaking it behind my back, all the pretty things to get you extra tips.

Grabbing a chilled coupe glass, I strain the mixture into the glass and top it with some Prosecco and garnished it with fresh mint leaves. Sliding the drink over to Derek, I blew him a kiss.

"Here you handsome, one Cuban Old Fashioned. Wanna take a sip and see why I think this drink is you?" He grinned and took a sip as he let the flavor linger like I taught him to do. He had a puzzled look on his face. "Okay, I give, tell me what this is me Y/N."

"Well, it has a complex flavor mixture that makes you taste something different each time, but underneath it all, it has a sweetness that's addicting and once you have a taste, you're always coming back for more."

Derek downed the rest of the drink and bit his lip looking at you from across the bartop. "Better hurry and close up babygirl, becuase I'm about to show you something else that comes back for more...and more...and more."

You've never closed up the bar faster in your life after those words were said.

#q #queue #que #headcanons #criminal minds #criminal minds headcanons #derek morgan #derek morgan headcanons #spencer reid #spencer reid headcanons #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner headcanons #drinks #cocktails #mixed drinks #derek x y/n #spencer x y/n #hotch x y/n

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smurphyse · 9 months

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Hope and a Haircut | Spencer Reid

Smurph’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Chapter 18 of Operation: Sand Leopard

Warnings: canon typical stories, Christmas visits, crying, happy hugs, fear, espionage, confessions

Summary: Spencer gets worried the longer he doesn't hear from you, and then he gets unexpected visitors that only make him more anxious.

Spencer was growing more anxious by the day. You still hadn't called, and all the hubbub of the city around Christmas wasn't helping him either. He flinched at backfiring cars, his gaze laser focused on the things around him. His mind was still in Iraq, still with you and Alijah, sitting on mountainsides and looking through binoculars.

He'd spent each day with the team, and Christmas morning finally arrived. JJ went down to Louisiana with Will and the kids, Rossi with his daughter and grandson. Even Luke and Penelope planned a getaway, so Spencer spent the day visiting his mom and then with Emily and Tara at a soup kitchen.

His mother at least recognized him, but she spoke to him like he'd been visiting every day for months. He was both grateful and devastated by it.

He felt good helping out, and they invited him over after, but he declined and instead made his way to his empty apartment. He knew you had a house outside the city, and he looked forward to spending time with you and the girls in the open air of Virginia.

Spencer decided to make the walk from the soup kitchen. The brisk air chilled straight through his coat, which admittedly wasn't warm enough for a white Christmas. Spencer stuffed his hands in his pockets and drove on as you'd say. The frigid air was just another thing to deal with until he got on the flight back to you.

Cars slid through the slush on the streets, spraying his ankles with black and gray slurry. The lamplight gleamed every ten feet, flickering under the weight of the cold. Spencer angled his head down to avoid the freezing breeze, but his ears and eyes were hypersensitive to his surroundings in a way he hadn't felt before.

This place was so different from Balad. It was almost like he'd never lived here before and had only seen it in pictures. Everything was so familiar but foreign at once. He was so out of place.

Turning the corner, Spencer stopped short as he spotted a small group huddled outside his building. The spotlight in front of the badge access door hit the tops of their heads, casting them in shadow. He was about to walk past and take a turn around the block when one of them called out.

"Doc!" Spencer recognized a familiar voice, and she sounded scared.

"Peanut?"

Spencer made his way closer and sure enough, Garrett, Morello, Barretti, and Peanut were waiting for him. They didn't have their families with them, and the stiff way they held themselves sent a shiver of fear down his spine.

"What's wrong?" Spencer asked solemnly.

Garrett stepped forward, "Have you heard from the boss?"

Spencer shook his head, "No. She was supposed to call the night we got back."

An exchange of glances only solidified his worry, which up until now he'd chalked it up to you being busy.

"We should talk someplace private," Morello decided, glancing around the tall windows that surrounded them. "We're too exposed."

Spencer agreed and ushered them up into his apartment. Even in their worry they were still curious about his living situation it seemed. Garrett went straight for his bookshelf, clutching his hands behind his back and eyeballing the spines in the lamplight. Morello stood in the doorway, watching them all protectively while Barretti plopped down on the couch like he owned the place.

Peanut waved toward his hardly used kitchen even before he went halfway across the world, "Should I make some coffee?"

Spencer nodded and followed her in. It was pretty small and cramped, and admittedly coffee was one of the only food items he even had in the apartment. Spencer pulled out the container of grounds and handed it to her, and she went about filling up the carafe and filter.

Leaning against the counter, Spencer listened anxiously as it percolated. His arms crossed tightly over his chest, which had become a habit after months in the desert when before he felt best shoving his hands in his pockets. He used to show anxiety as a shield, but now he chose to project strength like this. It was a strange turnaround for him, one JJ pointed out the night before, but it felt natural now.

"Something's happening," Spencer asked, but it came out more like a statement. Peanut just watched the machine drip black gold into the pot, refusing to meet his gaze. She had her tight kinky curls down, when in Iraq they usually were pulled into a tight bun. They puffed out over her shoulders, impeded by the thick bulk of her coat, but her dark curls were beautiful in the dim lighting.

"I'm hearing chatter I don't like," she replied quietly. "Something isn't right, but I can't figure out what."

Fear rotted in his gut like an acidic apple. The lining was slowly tearing away from itself, and his legs wobbled beneath him. Surely, the floor would soon open up to swallow him whole.

Spencer opted to pull out some mugs instead of falling into his terror. He didn't like not knowing what was going on, but he trusted you to lead… the only problem was that you weren't here to do so.

Peanut took two of them in her small hands, and he grabbed the rest by the handles and followed her out into the living room. When he got there, he nearly dropped them at the sight before him.

Barretti was standing on his couch, pulling open the light fixture on the ceiling. Morello was elbow deep in his old school record player, digging down in the horn. Garrett was sifting through the bookshelf, pulling out books and setting them gently on the ground, then searching the empty spaces.

"What the he-," he began, but Peanut waved a coffee up in front of him to stop him. The liquid sloshed over the rim, barely missing his chest before splattering on the hardwood.

The guys didn't even look, and Spencer stood in shock as Peanut held that cup in front of him until they were done. Spencer watched with his jaw dropped as they put everything back in its place, and only then Morello turned on the old record player.

"Let's play some music, yeah?" he said confidently, but his jaw was clenched tight. "I haven't had a chill night in a long time."

The player had a bluetooth option, as it only looked old. Emily got it for him, though he had suspected it was only so she had a chance to play music other than classical when they all came over now and then. A familiar song from his first trip outside the wire came on as Morello took out his phone.

He set it on the desk the turntable was on, and one by one they all set theirs next to his. Without much thought, Spencer handed Garrett a coffee mug and put his phone down too, then gave Morello the other. Peanut gave her second one to Barretti, and they moved silently to the center of the room and sat on the rug.

"If there's a fire in your kitchen. And when your roof just won't stop leaking," it played, not quite loud enough to bother the neighbors, but higher than he would have normally put it with company. "I got your back without you even asking. If I gotta whoop somebody's ass, I'ma do it with passion."

Huddled in the circle, speaking just under the volume of the music, Garrett leaned in close, "Boss hasn't called all week, and she's not answering any form of communication. She's gone radio silent."

"That's why we were looking for bugs," Morello said, nodding. He looked straight at Spencer. "She always calls on liberty and checks in. She wouldn't stop otherwise unless she was dead or incapacitated."

Spencer's heart dropped down in his stomach. If something happened to you, who was protecting Alijah? If something happened to the both of you, how was he expected to go on?

"I got wind from Agent Garber that there's been some chatter about Sayeed, that he's been spotted where we found Alijah six months ago," Peanut continued as Spencer clutched his coffee cup tightly. The heat grounded him, but he was sure to disappear into nothing soon enough.

He rarely saw his CHUmate, but remembering that he worked in the satellite tents it made sense that he'd hear word of one of the biggest heroin distributors in the Middle East.

“An emergency, or when you just can't sleep, and I'll slide through for ya with that urgency,” Teddy Swims came through around them. As sweet as the song was, a solid blanket of dread covered the room.

“Then we get on the next flight and go back early,” Spencer offered, but Garrett shook his head.

“No communication means someone is listening in and watching. If we go back early it might tip them off that something’s going on. Boss is sending a message.”

“Yeah, to be careful,” Barretti grumbled. He frowned down at his big hands. “We just have to follow her lead. She spent years in MARSOC, doing all sorts of clandestine shit. She knows something we don’t.”

“We can’t just sit here,” Spencer insisted, waving a hand. “Not if she needs our help.”

“Morning after next we’ll go to Anacostia and head back to Iraq, doc,” Garrett told him firmly. “We can’t go before our leave ends unless we receive orders.”

“I’m an agent! I can go back whene-,” he began, but was overruled with a flat palm facing him.

“Boss will tell us what to do when we get there. She’s got more answers than we do right now. You could set something worse in motion by making a move.”

“Aren’t you worried at all? She’s not a military robot. She can’t do it all by herself.”

Garrett sighed and flashed Morello a look, who shrugged. He turned back to Spencer, “Of course I’m worried, doc. I worked with Teddy before he died, and he got real paranoid towards the end. I didn’t know much about what he was working on but when Y/N asked for my team’s help I agreed because even though Teddy started to lose it, I knew he had a good reason.”

He sighed again and scrubbed his face with his hand, dragging it down his chin. “This mission is bigger than just the girl and the heroin. The person we’re looking for has hooks in places we probably don’t know about. We don’t make a move without her say-so.

“You gotta remember, doc,” he finished, giving him a knowing look. “The boss always knows more than we do. You have to trust that she knows what she’s doing.”

Spencer nodded in defeat. He was right. You always knew more than you let on, and he suddenly got a sneaking suspicion that even before this there were things you hadn’t told him. Was it because you didn’t trust him? Or had you existed like this for so long that you didn’t know any other way to be?

He just hoped Garrett was right.

He hoped you had a plan.

Spencer sat in JJ’s bathroom the day after Christmas. She’d nearly force-fed him leftovers and dessert for dinner, then dragged him in here by the wrist. Spencer put up a good front for Will and Henry and Michael, chatting and pretending to be interested in the things his godsons were talking about, but his mind never left you.

JJ draped the little cape she’d bought just for him years ago when he first asked her to cut his hair over his shoulders. She tightened it and went about wetting his hair and combing through it.

“I can’t believe how long you’ve let this get,” she exclaimed as she raked a brush through it. Thank god she never had daughters, because this was torture. Spencer tried not to wince each time she caught his roots, since she did give him good cuts… besides the time Hotch asked if he joined a boy band. That was the last time he ever gave her free reign over styles.

“Hmm,” he hummed noncommittally. Instead, he fiddled with some army man toy Michael had left on the sink. It pointed a nondescript gun out, legs akimbo in a wide stance as he prepared for danger.

“Michael’s been taking those everywhere with him,” JJ went on as he turned the green piece of plastic in his fingers. “He tells everyone how his uncle Spencer is a hero.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Spencer mumbled, frowning to himself. “It’s like saying what we did at the BAU was heroic… it wasn’t. It was just bloody and sad.”

JJ stilled, her hands freezing mid-air. Her blue eyes blazed as she watched him in the mirror, “Then why the hell are you going back?”

“Because… There’s a future there that isn’t a black hole of loneliness and murder,” he decided, and her jaw clenched tightly.

“You’re going back to Iraq for a girl?” she pressed, getting angrier. “Spencer, I know you’ve always been a romantic but that’s fucking insane.”

“It’s not just that,” he replied calmly.

“Then what?”

Spencer sighed, his eyes meeting hers. He was so tired all of a sudden, weighed down with the enormity of the possibility of loss that could come tomorrow. “I have hope. Honestly, I haven’t had that in such a long time, JJ. I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep searching for that final happiness. Y/N is a lot of things…”

“She’s mean and crazy. She charges headfirst into every door without caring that something on the other side would hurt her. She’s only focused on protecting those behind her. She’s not known for telling you everything, and I’m trying to be okay with that because for once, someone knows a lot more than I do. She leads, she protects, she cares. Most of all, she’s kind. Even when she’s mean, she’s kind. She only pushes as much as you can take.”

“She sounds like Hotch,” JJ muttered, and when Spencer stared at her wide-eyed, she burst into a laughter he couldn’t help but join in on.

“That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me!” he guffawed with her. They laughed until their bellies hurt and JJ had to sit down on the tub edge to hold herself upright.

After it died down, she looked at him with a spark of joy, “I really hope it all works out. I just worry about you. You’ve changed so much in the twenty years I’ve known you, and you always came out the other side somehow. I just want you to come back, even if you’re different, I just want you to love the life you live.”

Spencer reached out a hand and she took it, squeezing him tightly. “I’m learning a lot about myself. Sometimes… you just gotta suck it up and drive on. The only way through it is to get through it.”

“You seem so different again,” JJ whispered, her eyes filling with tears he wasn’t sure were happy or sad. “But… not like you’re broken. You seem more confident, not like after prison when you were so angry. You seem like you know what you’re capable of.”

She made a face, “Does that make sense?”

Pride filled his heart and he nodded, “I think I finally know why I went through everything that I did. I can’t talk much about it, but I really think that I’m about to get everything I ever wanted.”

JJ smiled. Spencer smiled back.

“Hope looks good on you, Spence.”

You hadn't really slept in days. It was Christmas, five days after Spencer and the unit left for America. The stress of what you were about to do was eating you alive, and each time you managed a nap you woke up in a panic.

You were being listened to. After Mercer's confession that he'd found bugs in your office, you tore the whole thing apart in near silence until you found three more than he had. You went through your CHU, found two more. One under your bed and one in your bookshelf. You searched Spencer's next, but surprisingly found nothing. The rest of the unit's bunks were clear too.

You were starting to feel as paranoid as Teddy sounded before he died. He sent you his coded words but they were filled with veiled messages, as if someone besides you and him were reading. You had nobody to talk to besides Mercer, and even then you kept him at arm's length. You didn't trust him, but still he was the only one who knew of your plan. Even the unit wouldn't know until after, and you still might never tell them what you were going to do.

Spencer and the unit were all the way in America. They wouldn't be coming home for two more days, so you were sending Mercer to meet them. Alijah had thankfully been hidden enough through false paperwork that there were no bugs in her room. It seemed you had become the mole's target.

Without Spencer, you couldn't enact your plan. You had to explain to Alijah many times why, and eventually she agreed and understood. You needed him here to stay behind and keep her safe while you went after Sivan and Sayeed.

You didn't destroy the bugs in your office. You told Mercer to go on doing so, to keep acting like he was struggling with himself. It would make those watching think everything was going according to their plan. So, you kept the bugs, and here you and Mercer sat in your office, going over the FRAGO for the day out loud and writing notes to one another.

You lounged on one of the old metal chairs, your heavy boots set on the table. You tried to sound dreadfully bored and irritated, "There's been a few scuffles in the nearby villages, but we can't go out without the rest of the team since your dumb ass let your guys go home for Christmas."

You quietly slid a paper his way. You didn't put your pen down, and you wrote slowly to drown out the sounds the best you could.

Is everything ready?

Mercer nodded, but he leaned back and let out an angry harrump for the ears listening in. "I thought you'd have your lackies around. I only gave my guys what was coming to them. Your stupid fucking team hasn't done shit all year."

All you needed was for your team to come back, then you were going outside the wire to kill Sayeed al Hafiz. Mercer was going to make sure that happened.

"Fuck you," you spat.

"Fuck yourself," Mercer snapped back in reply. He got angrily to his feet and stomped out of the trailer, slamming the door behind him for good measure.

Let them think you still hated him. You didn't trust him, but you were coming around on him after Hitchens died. That didn't mean you hadn't fought in the last two months. He was still an asshole.

Everything was going according to plan… so far. You had to remind yourself that this could all fall apart. You could die on the twenty eighth of December of this year. Sivan might not make it if you didn't succeed.

But you had a backup plan.

You always did.

Spencer was the first to arrive at Anacostia on December 27th. He’d said his goodbyes to the team and their families the day after Christmas, teary eyed and filled with dread. They clung to him like he wouldn’t come back alive, and even if he didn’t Spencer knew he had to get back to Iraq.

You needed him.

You were all alone out there protecting Alijah. Sayeed was hiding in the desert, waiting to strike. You had no one to back you up and he knew he needed to be by your side. Even if it all ended in flames, Spencer would be with you and the girls and the unit until the very end. He wouldn’t want it any other way.

Spencer had no idea what he was walking into once he stepped foot back on base. His mind conjured images of firefights and explosions, a dramatic entrance to the scariest day of his life. The ground would thunder and the sky would alight with red washes of fear and smoke. But he would find you. He always would.

He walked through the dark hangar at 0500, much like he had four months earlier, clutching his pack and fighting the urge to sit down and melt into the concrete. Shadows lurked as he approached. Spencer took a deep breath, adjusted the pack on his shoulder and made his way toward the plane.

It was such a strange familiarity. The Antonov An-178 transport plane loomed ominously above him, blanketing him in darkness as its shadow cast over him from the lamplight. He left America for the first time in August. Now it was almost January, and the cool shadow under the plane was ice cold.

He stopped in his tracks when he spotted Captain Mercer leaning against the frame of the walkway into the belly of the plane. His arms crossed over his big barrel chest, a confident smirk washing over his weathered face as he saw Spencer with his mouth agape.

“No cryin’ on my plane, boy,” he drawled like he had what felt like years ago.

“What are you doing here?” Spencer seethed as a sudden rage overtook him. He didn’t exactly trust Mercer, but if he was in America who was with you and Alijah?

Spencer was about to stomp his way up the ramp but Mercer sauntered down. He seemed far too jolly until he reached the bottom, where he pulled Spencer by the arm a bit away from the plane.

“I know you don’t like me, and you’ve got every reason not to,” Mercer whispered as he and Spencer huddled close. “But I’m in this until the end. I know you know about Ted.”

Spencer managed a silent slight nod, so he continued. “He was a good guy, and I’ve never really managed to be anywhere as good a man as he was. I’m trying. The boss sent me here to make sure you all made it on the plane.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Spencer asked softly. Mercer’s eyes told him what he meant before he even opened his mouth. The fact that he called you ‘boss’ when a few months ago he used another choice word somehow made him more worried than ever.

“Accidents happen,” he grumbled ominously. “Brakes go out, carbon monoxide detectors stop working… sometimes transport planes blow up midair due to mechanical failure.”

He knew something then that you never told him. Teddy’s death wasn’t an accident, or at least you didn’t believe it was. The plane crash was an assassination, and you weren’t going to let it happen to the unit if you had any power to stop it. You didn’t trust Mercer enough to stay behind with Alijah, but your faith was enough to send him to keep them safe over the ocean.

It made his heart weary. Were you just growing paranoid as Teddy had? Were you justified in your worries? What the hell was about to happen?

What the hell were you planning?

Notes: Y'all ain't ready for the end of Part 1 of this story... Shit is about to go DOWN

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ellies-enrichment · 1 year

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riley knows her better than anyone else because she knows what enrichment means

#the last of us #hbo the last of us #ellie williams #bella ramsey #hbo tlou #memes #mine #if i ever were to lose queue #incorrect tlou quotes #storm reid #riley tlou

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criminalmindsgonewrong · 7 months

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how the bau react when you ask them to hold your drink in the club:

garcia: bought you a new drink because yours was getting warm

hotch: you didn't have to ask, he was already watching it

jj: protects your drink but also mixes it up with her own so when you get back you're not sure whose is whose

morgan: says yes but forgets as soon as he spots a pretty girl across the dancefloor

reid: not only watches the drink, but physically covers it with his hand and glares distrustfully at passers by

rossi: forgets but then buys you a new drink anyway so it's okay

emily: drinks your drink and then gaslights you into thinking you left it with one of the others, successfully

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #jennifer jareau #ba-queue #spencer reid #derek morgan #david rossi #penelope garcia

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queerquaintrelle · 3 months

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The Drum was my heart...

Loustat and we are taking symbolism very seriously here.

@vampirefest

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velvetcloxds · 1 year

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be my mistake- send me a character and a dialogue prompt and I'll write a little baby blurb for it

May i request a spencer reid blurb. Thank you! 🫶

“Do you have a crush on me?”

JUST YOU AND ME | S.R.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: *again by dorris day plays*, secret relationship

You weren't sure how the situation had escalated so quickly, you'd just barely managed to convince yourself to go on the undercover assignment, nevermind ending up in the middle of a dancefloor with a slow song tickling your senses and your secret partner holding you in his arms. As far as assignments went, you've had worse and could definitely picture worse still but the moment felt cruel in its creation, forcing to the surface feelings you spent every second pushing aside.

"Spencer," you had almost no control over the nerves that slid through your voice, it was alarming, honestly, since nerves were the last thing the team needed from you. "They're all looking at us," you were painfully aware of how silly the statement sounded, that was the point, after all, but really it wasn't a reference to the fact that you were being watched and instead that you were being profiled, read like two coverless books, bare and spineless right before their eyes and it was illogical but that shook you more than the possible kidnapper you were trying to lure out.

"I know," he breathed and you swore his touch was laced with gasoline, a fire lighting under your skin as he moved his hand to your lower back, the other hand squeezing yours from where it held yours tightly. "Don't think about them," it was something easier said than done and was quite frankly more aimed at his nerves than your own.

Morgan was watching from the bar, talking to Emily, looking to the world like two people flirting when really he was looking for anyone that looked out of place. Though not nearly as convincing as the others, Hotch was sitting at a table by himself, keeping his gaze on the pair of you, and that was surely the problem because if Spencer could see through his act then he would definitely see through yours. Because the real problem was not that the two of you had to look like a convincing couple, but that you would be just slightly too good at it- which you definitely were.

Spencer found your gaze again, brows furrowed at the sight of you, eyes large and concerned, lip caught between your teeth as you fisted his shirt in your fingers, willing yourself to stay focused when this was the most time the two of you've had together since you caught this case. He was conflicted, he wanted to bring his thumb up to brush your lip to safety, bring his lips to your forehead to rid it of that little crease, wanted to pull you right into his chest to let you nuzzle your face into his neck- but he couldn't and so he had to find a way to work around it.

"Don't think about them," he repeated, and couldn't fight a small smile when you rolled your eyes at him, very unpleased with his seemingly unbothered behavior. He led you into a slight turn, pulling you just the slightest bit closer than before in the process, shielding you from the eyes of your team as well. "Now, it's just you and me," he explained and it was very convincing, the room around you feeling suddenly bare, empty, utterly devoid of anything but the man you loved and a song you would now and forever label as your favourite.

"I love this song," you breathed calmly, giving in to the sway of his hips guiding yours and he was admittedly pleased with himself when you smiled back at him, fingers easing their hold on his own, he was less pleased with that. You were settling into his arms despite your better judgment, leaning in just enough for him to feel your chest against his own, feel your breathing as you tried to hide the way you were desperate for even less space. "We've never danced like this before," you noted and it was true, you hardly found yourselves in places where it was possible but it was a welcoming foreignness, one you hoped would never be foreign again.

"We haven't," he agreed and his voice was dazed, dreamlike in its absence of any sense of formality, lost in you, drowning in you as he moved almost naturally, habitually to embrace you, your own movements completely unplanned as you rested your head just below his shoulder, breathing in softly as his scent surrounded you now more so than before. He realized barely a second later what this must've looked like from another perspective and followed his carelessness by dancing around slowly, circling your spot to give the bar a faux interrogating glance.

"You know..." your voice was softer than before, a familiar sound to your lover as he brushed his hand up and down your back, grounding you as you managed to shield a quick kiss to his collarbone, hiding it by pretending to scratch your nose with his shirt. "I don't think you understand just how awfully torturous it is to be this close to you and not be able to kiss you."

"Trust me," he began and the scoff he breathed was almost bitter, but more than anything it was disbelieved, tremored, barely keeping his affection at bay when you tilted your head back to look up at him, the light catching your features so perfectly it was almost cruel, he'd not seen you so content, so relaxed in what felt like forever. "I understand perfectly."

Someone was speaking into his earpiece then, Morgan, you gathered by the look on Spencer's face. Hotch walked out of the bar before you could overhear what was being said, Emily following close behind and Morgan, though clearly on his way out, making sure to offer you a quick wink before disappearing behind the shimmering tinsel curtains.

" What was that?" you frowned, Spencer shaking his head as he proceeded to move his hand away from his ear where he'd had it hovering while listening. You couldn't tell what he was thinking, what was going on aside from the fact that the assignment was clearly a bust- but what you were sure of was the sort of sparkle that met Spencer's gaze as he daringly, far too recklessly brought that very hand to cup your cheek.

"Do you have a crush on me?" he demanded and as simple as the question, everything fell into place almost instantly, your face falling into mock guilt as you nodded lightly, leaning into his touch.

"Was it that obvious?" you mused, and he laughed lightly, a breathy sound, so effortless it felt almost unreal as he kissed you quickly, first just a peck and then another lingering yet tenderly brisk kiss. He hummed- satisfied as if he'd been waiting for the chance forever, longing for a taste far too long.

"Terribly," he countered and you knew your skin was burning against his palm at the intensity of his focus on you, unfiltered, completely genuine and unhidden, willingly exposed. "Just you and me," he explained as if he'd ever need to explain being so openly in love with you.

"Just you and me," you repeated and it was you who acted this time, making sure the next kiss he gave you lasted far longer than a second, and ended after far more than just the one.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #monique's writing events #right where queue left me

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