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#sarasstuff
idmakeitbehave · 3 years
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Criminal Minds as AO3 tags 5/?  [another CM-specific edition] (insp.)
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tommounf · 9 years
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everyone needs to remember that zayn is not dead. be happy for him. he's doing what he needs to do.
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e-b-b-a · 12 years
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@sarasstuff is the best!☀😍🙏💘🍦👼✨🍟💋😜🍟🍔🍜🍝🍸🍛🍱🍢💅💅💅💋🎉🔔🎈🎁🎥📱💰🎨🎤🎧🎬🏊🏄👠🎀👙👑💍💎💄👗🍧🎂🍰🍉🍓🍰🍎🗽🌈🇺🇸🏁🚥💟🚾©®
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idmakeitbehave · 4 years
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Criminal Minds as AO3 tags 3/?  [CM-specific edition] (insp.)
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idmakeitbehave · 4 years
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Criminal Minds as AO3 tags 2/? (insp.)
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idmakeitbehave · 4 years
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idmakeitbehave · 4 years
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Without Words
Summary: Seven times you show Spencer you love him, and the one time you finally tell him.
Pairings: Spencer Reid x gn!Reader
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings & Content: no warnings, just pining... so much pining. And enough marshmallow fluff to drown in.
It’s the first thing Spencer notices when he walks in.
A donut sitting on his desk. More specifically, a chocolate frosted donut with rainbow sprinkles. His favorite.
He immediately begins to scan the bullpen in search of whoever this donut fairy godparent might be. Derek and Emily sit a few desks over, lost in their own conversation and laughing at one another with devilish grins. Not them. Next he sees JJ handing Rossi a stack of files before heading towards Hotch’s office. Not them either. Then Spencer spots Hotch, seated at his desk with the same stoic expression he always wears. Definitely not him. He’s about to land on the one remaining, logical conclusion, Penelope, when she saunters right up to him.
“What, you didn’t bring enough to share with the class?” she asks with a pointed pout, glaring at Spencer’s donut.
Not her, I guess.
“You didn’t give me this?” Spencers asks, despite the fact that he’s already gathered enough evidence to determine that she, in fact, did not bring him this donut.
Penelope’s face lights up at those five little words. “Ooh,” she coos. “I bet I know who did.”
Spencer blinks at her, waiting for her to explain the sudden appearance of this donut that may as well have fallen from the sky.
She stares at him for a moment, clearly hoping he’ll catch on. No such luck. “Y/N, you doofus,” Penelope mock-whispers, much too loudly for Spencer’s liking.
“What?” His head swivels around, his eyes widening as he searches the room. He finds you at your desk on the other side of the bullpen. You must have snuck in. There’s no way he would have missed you.
It doesn’t make sense. Penelope is way off. That’s the only explanation. You’ve only been on the team for a few weeks, why on earth would you be giving him a donut? Just him?
Spencer would understand if you had brought them in for the whole team. Hell, he’d seen you bring in coffee for everyone just last week. It’s just what you do, apparently. It’s one of the many things about you that he has found himself oddly smitten by. You just seem to radiate joy and warmth. He doesn’t know how to explain it, how a human can even have that kind of aura, but you do. He just knows.
None of that explains the donut in his hand. The one that he has yet to even bite into, despite the fact that he desperately wants to.
Penelope seems to realize that you’re approaching the two of them before Spencer does. She throws a wink his way before turning on her heels and scurrying towards Derek. Spencer’s left alone, staring at you like a fool, still holding the damn donut.
“Did I get it wrong?” you ask.
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idmakeitbehave · 3 years
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Right Here
Prompts: “I can’t do anything right.” // “Do you even still love me?”
Pairings: Derek Morgan x gn!Reader
Word Count: 577
Warnings & Content: no warnings, just some fluff & comfort
A/N: Thanks for the request @ezioauditore8880 I hope I did it justice! <3
The rhythmic droning of beeps coming from beside you was the first thing that you became aware of. The next was the lights―fluorescent, flickering, altogether much too bright. You blinked a few times in a desperate attempt to clear the fuzziness that lingered in your periphery, but everything felt too heavy, too unsure.
A hospital. You had somehow ended up in a hospital. The last moments before the darkness flashed through your head―an abandoned basement, the sound of your teammates screaming, a sudden explosion, and then nothing. Tears stung your eyes and you squeezed them shut. No sooner did one slip out than a warm, slightly calloused thumb reached out and wiped it away. You opened your eyes again, the figure beside you slowly coming into focus―Derek.
“Hey, hey, baby,” he said. He grabbed your hand in his, drawing circles into your palm. “No tears. Everything’s okay. You’re okay.”
You tried to shake your head but winced, the dull ache becoming an uncontrollable pounding. The spots dancing in your vision grew, and you let out a low groan.
It was too much. The all-consuming pain, the weight in your head, the feeling of failure. You hadn’t been able to figure out that there was a bomb until it was too late―you had just barely gotten out of the building before the explosion. You should have been faster, better, smarter.
You had failed.
“Do you even still love me?” The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them. It almost felt as though it wasn’t you that had said them, as though they came from an echo somewhere far away.
Of course those would be your first words after waking up in the hospital.
Derek’s eyes widened, his grip on your hand tightening. “Whoa, that better be the concussion talking.” He watched your face for a reaction, saw the way the tears filled your eyes once more. “Of course I still love you. And I always will. You know that.”
You choked back a sob, trying (and failing) to nod in an effort to assuage Derek’s fears. “Sorry,” you said softly.
He shook his head, wiping your cheeks again. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m just glad that you’re alright. I’ll tell you I love you as many times as you need, sweetness.”
You sniffed, a weak smile on your face. “A million?”
“And then some.” You huffed out a wavering breath and Derek brushed back your hair. “Okay, what’s on that pretty little concussed mind of yours?”
“It’s just―” you said, “I can’t do anything right.”
“Oh, Y/N,” Derek sighed, his hand coming to rest on your cheek. “Where did this come from?”
“I should have… I should have known that it was a trap―that there was a bomb.”
“Hey now, none of us saw it coming. It didn’t make sense―it still doesn’t make sense. It didn’t fit the profile.” He said it so firmly that it felt like a fact, incontrovertible and true.
You wanted to believe him. You needed to believe him. He raised a questioning eyebrow at you and you nodded, grimacing as the fuzziness in your vision reemerged.
“Alright, angel,” Derek said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Rest now.” You closed your eyes, letting his voice wash over you and concentrating on the feel of his thumb sweeping from the apple of your cheek to your chin. “I’m right here and you’re right here. That’s all that matters.”
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idmakeitbehave · 4 years
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Movie Theater Rejects
Summary: Someone in the theater won't stop correcting the scientific inaccuracies in the film you're watching. And you? You can't stop laughing at them. So much so that your friends eventually kick you out of the theater. 
Guess who else has been exiled?
Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings: nope, just like 2 (?) swears
A/N: apparently all I am good for is writing ridiculously stupid fluffy meet-cutes. big sorry, idk man (bonus points if you know what movie this is)
What even was this movie?
You once again rued the fact that you had agreed to go with Connor and Ryan. Another weird sci-fi disaster movie, another Saturday night spent being a third wheel. No matter how much you loved the two of them, it would never be fun to be the third on what clearly looked like a goddamn date. You had hoped the movie would be distracting enough, but it just wasn’t your thing. At all. You were probably biased, but it just- ugh. Not into it.
“This doesn’t make sense.”
“Sh!”
The whispers came from a few rows behind you, and you couldn’t help but laugh. They were right- it didn’t make sense. What were they even doing? Something with a nuclear bomb- that was as far as you could understand.
“10,000 nuclear weapons? That’s a vast underestimation.”
“Sh!”
Holy shit. Your friends had rolled their eyes at the comments, but come on man. It was hysterical. You tried to hold back your laughter, ending up snorting loudly. That earned you a glare from the other people around you.
Despite your best efforts to focus on the movie, you just couldn’t. It had come out almost two decades ago- why were you watching it now? You should have been more insistent on picking the movie. Or maybe you should have just stayed home and watched HGTV with your cat.
“There’s no asteroid as large as Texas in the solar system- the largest is only 560 miles across.”
“It’s a movie.”
This guy would not stop. You let out another loud laugh which turned into stifled giggles as Connor elbowed you in the side. The woman on the other side of you turned to scowl and you almost lost it again. This could not be real.
Compose yourself, compose yourself. You took a deep breath, leaning forward in the seat. If you could just get yourself to stare at the screen, you’d have to get into it eventually. Right?
Wrong. You were lost. It was too late for you.
“That’s just a real Space Shuttle, that’s not the X-71.”
“Come on, man!”
You had caught that error at least. Unfortunately you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at that one either. Whoever this guy was, he had a point. And it was hilarious. The hilarity of the commentary from behind you combined with the disapproving glares flying around the theater? Priceless. You might actually pee your pants.
“That’s impossible. The bomb would have to detonate with the same amount of energy as the sun.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
The whispers turned into hushed hisses, the two voices apparently arguing with one another.
That was it. You were done.
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idmakeitbehave · 4 years
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He Hates Me
Summary: You were doomed from the start. Leave it to you to develop a sickeningly serious crush on the one man who couldn't stand to be in the same room as you. He hated you, you just knew it- or so you thought.
Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word Count: 2.9k
Warnings: nope, just like 3 (?) swearwords
You were doomed from the start.
You had thought you had been fairly obvious. You definitely made no serious attempts to hide it- your crush on Spencer had started nearly the moment you walked into the bullpen for the first time.
In hindsight though, this was where it all started to go wrong. You had been rushing through, running late for your first meeting with Hotch. Late on your first day- not a great look.
In your haste, you kept your eyes trained on the files in your hand as you speed-walked, petrified that you were going to forget something important. Your foot had connected with something in your path, sending both you and your papers flying across the bullpen. You had landed awkwardly on your elbow, earning a rather large scrape up your arm as you desperately tried to gather the files. 
When you stood up to look back, you realized exactly what you had tripped over- someone’s feet. Spencer’s feet to be exact. He had been stretched out in his desk chair, his long legs protruding into the aisle as he flipped rapidly through a book. He hadn’t seen you and you hadn’t seen him. Spencer was left beet red, stumbling over his words as he hastily apologized before fleeing to the conference room. You had stared at his receding figure for a brief moment, the blush on your face matching his, before snapping out of it and continuing your rush to Hotch’s office.
And that was it. You were embarrassed, mortified even, but after that first day you couldn’t stop thinking about him- the way his hair was always in his eyes, the way his glasses always seemed to slide down his nose, even the way his hand ran down the page of a book as he read.
He was adorable, endearingly so, but every exchange after that seemed to carry over some of the awkwardness of that first interaction. You tried desperately to move past it, but if you weren’t doing something horribly embarrassing, he seemed to always be dodging you. 
The two of you were barely ever in the same room together without another member of the team present. If he happened to walk into a room when it was just you in there, he would promptly spin on his heels and walk in the other direction. Sometimes he would make a pathetic excuse, saying he forgot something or he needed to find someone, and other times he would just leave without a word. Your eyebrows never failed to furrow at that, your face a look of confusion as you wondered exactly what it was that you had done to make him hate you.
Time did anything but make it better.
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idmakeitbehave · 4 years
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The Constant
Summary: Spencer Reid operates under the assumption that everyone always leaves. Time and time again his theory has held true. He just needs one person to prove him wrong.
Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word Count: 4.2k
Warnings: brief mention of drug use, casual angst (we end with fluff, dw)
A/N: this is like... super sappy and I’m only a little bit sorry about it
Read on AO3
When Spencer’s dad leaves, he leaves a note. 
You’re not there for this goodbye, of course. This one happens nearly two decades before you meet, before the thought of you and him is even a flicker of possibility. But, he tells you about it. Not right away, not when you are first getting to know one another. But one day, many months into your relationship, after a long case, he tells you. 
The details come out slowly, reluctantly at first, but then the dam breaks. You hold him while he cries, your heart breaking for the little boy he used to be. The little boy who deserved so much better. You smooth back his hair, letting him cry into your chest. 
He tells you about the pain, about the confusion. When he speaks, you feel like you are right there with him. There’s a bitterness in his voice, but there’s also a deep-seated ache, an ache for something he missed out on, something he’s not even quite sure exists. He’s so used to being let down, to being left alone. It’s just the way it has always been. He’s sure it’s the way it will always be.
When he looks up at you, grief and sorrow swimming in his eyes, you make a promise. You don’t say it out loud, but you make a promise to yourself anyway. You are going to spend the rest of your life showing this man how much you love him- you are going to prove to him that he deserves to be happy. He deserves it more than anything in the world. You have never been so sure of anything. You try to make him understand that what his father did is not about him, that he was a child, that he deserved unconditional love. That monumental task is easier said than done.
You begin to leave him notes, trying to replace the bad memories with good ones. You know nothing will ever fully take away the pain, but you try anyway. The first note is long, and you make sure you’re there when he reads it- you don’t want him to get the wrong idea. 
You sit quietly as he reads it, sipping your coffee. When he finishes, he stands up abruptly, making his way across the room and wrapping his arms around you. “Thank you,” he whispers, cheeks wet against your shoulder. You brush the tears away, pressing a kiss to his forehead before holding him tighter. You know then that you are never going to let him go.
***
When Elle leaves, she leaves nothing.
It’s like she just disappears. You’re sad and you’re hurt and you understand. She was struggling, and while she had confided in you and Spencer, it seemed like no one else had noticed. That strong, infallible facade that she so often wore as armor had stopped them. They had turned a blind eye, tried to ignore the issues they saw right in front of them. 
You try to imagine the pain she was in, the terror she felt having her home, the one place she felt safe, invaded. You shudder at the thought, and the actions she’s taken since then make more and more sense to you. You only wish she had stayed. 
Spencer blames himself. He thinks he could have done more, should have done more. He replays that night in the hotel room over and over, trying to see exactly where he went wrong. He wants to know what he could have said to change things. You try to help him, reassuring him that there’s nothing he could have done, but you feel like a hypocrite. You replay your last conversation with her in your mind. Was there something that would have changed things? What did she need? What did you not give her?
You return from the first case without her in silence. It had been strange and uncomfortable, and no one had acknowledged the sudden emptiness where she used to be. When you get home, Spencer pulls you into his lap and wraps his arms around you. Neither of you cry, but you can feel the tears settle in your throat. The two of you stay like that, holding each other in the dark, for hours. You can taste the guilt on each other’s lips when you kiss. It shouldn’t have been like this.
This is the first goodbye that you share, though it doesn’t feel like much of a goodbye. It just feels like a vanishing act. It feels like maybe she was never really there at all.
You both try to get in touch with Elle, but it’s like she’s a ghost. Hotch assures you that she’s okay, or as okay as she can be all things considered. You bite your tongue, and Spencer does a poor job of hiding the distaste on his face. What’s done is done. You’re a family, after all, and like it or not you need each other.
***
When Spencer leaves, he leaves you.
You collapse on the floor of the farmhouse, your entire world pulled out from under you. Morgan has to drag you out, and he lets you sob into his chest. You can feel his hands shaking as he tries to console you.
You try your best to help the team, your mind focused on only one thing. Spencer. You have to find him. You have to get to him. You think of the promise you made to yourself. There’s still so much more you have to do- so much you need to do.
JJ won’t look at you, and you don’t try to talk to her. You don’t blame her for what happened, but you know if you speak you will shatter. You promise yourself that when this is all over you will tell her that you don’t blame her. You can’t stand the idea of another person you love carrying around the weight of that burden.
The time drags by slowly, and every minute without Spencer feels like another dagger in your heart. You talk yourself off of the brink of a panic attack a million times over. 
When Spencer appears on the screen, your Spencer, beaten and battered and crying out in pain, you can’t see straight. Emily leads you out of the room, wrapping her arms around you. “We’ll find him,” she says with more certainty than you are able to believe.
When you do find him, when he comes back to you, he’s not the same. You hold him tightly at first, but he tries to push you away. You give him his space for a while, although you are always worried. He’s struggling, anyone can see that. No one says anything and it feels like Elle all over again. The bitterness in your mouth makes you want to scream, to slap everyone into seeing, into action. How can they just do nothing?
Your worst fears come true when you go to his apartment one night. The two of you had been about to move in together before all of this happened, before he pushed you away. You still have the spare key and when there’s no response to your knock you let yourself in. 
Your keys clatter to the floor when you find Spencer slumped on the couch, his sleeve pushed up to reveal a smattering of small, fresh track marks. He’s conscious, but his eyes keep fluttering closed as he mumbles to you incoherently, his body twitching away from your touch. You’re frozen in place for what feels like an eternity, part of you wanting to collapse on the floor all over again. 
You hold yourself together, running to the bathroom and calling the local hotline. The counselor on the other end listens patiently as you cry and explain what’s happening. They tell you how to ascertain if he’s in any immediate danger, and you tell them that he’s breathing, that he’s conscious. When you hang up, you return to where he’s laying on the couch. You collect the fallen needle and bottle, untying the string from around his arm. Your fingers tremble the entire time and you feel as though you are no longer in your body. You’re hovering above, watching the events unfold disconnectedly. 
When Spencer wakes up on the couch the next morning, he walks by his bedroom, doing a double take when he sees you on his bed. Your face is red and puffy, and you’re holding onto his sweatshirt for dear life, curled into the fetal position. Although you’re half asleep, you still seem to somehow be shaking. He suddenly understands exactly what has happened, the realization knocking the wind out of him. That is the moment he promises himself that he needs to get help. That he needs to help himself.
It’s not easy. It takes time and understanding and twice as many steps backwards as forwards, but you are there with him every step of the way. You hold him when the chills and nausea and pain set in, staying up with him when he’s unable to sleep. You celebrate the little successes and remind him he can get past any of the setbacks. Some nights you simply sit beside him, holding his hand as though you’re afraid he’s going to drift back to that cabin if you let go. You remind him always that this does not define him, that he is the strongest man you know. He may not always believe you, but that doesn’t make it any less true. You thank your lucky stars for every day you get to spend with him- days that you had once not been sure you would have.
***
When Gideon leaves, he leaves a note. 
It’s addressed only to Spencer, and it drudges up all of the past hurt that he tries so hard to shove down. The entire team is startled by this sudden departure, and although you can sympathize with Gideon’s reasons for leaving, you can’t help but curse the way he did it. It was selfish of him to leave the way he did, and selfish to put all of the burden on Spencer. Spencer who so looked up to him, who adored him.
Spencer tries not to show that he’s hurting, that he’s angry, but you know. You wait. You let him tell you when he’s ready. One night he comes to you, crawling into the bed you share. “Why?” It’s the only word he can say, the only question he can ask. He repeats it quietly, and you desperately wish you had an answer for him. But the truth is, there’s no good answer. Nothing you can say will take away the hurt, take away the betrayal. All you can do is hold him, whispering, “I know, baby. I know.” 
Spencer thinks he deserves it, thinks it’s something he did that drove another person away from him. You don’t quite know how to explain to him that they are the ones missing out, that he is the most exquisite person you know. They should be so lucky to know him, to love him the way you do. You wish that he could see himself the way you see him, that he could see the beauty in every little piece.
You leave him another note, this one detailing all of the little things you love about him. You describe the way his hair sticks up in the morning, his two left feet when you make him dance with you, the face he makes when you beat him to a fun fact. One page turns to two turns to three turns to four. Spencer cries when he reads it, and you do too. You cry at the notion of this beautiful man not knowing what he’s worth, what he deserves. 
Spencer reads this note again and again, the creases thin and worn from all of the times he’s carefully unfolded it. You smile when you find it in his bedside table, the heart you drew on the outside faded from time. You can only hope that he believes what you have written, because you meant every word.
***
When Emily leaves, she leaves pain.
There’s a big, gaping emptiness where she used to be. Your entire team is reeling from this loss, unable to fully comprehend what is happening. How could someone so vibrant, so vital to your family, just suddenly be… gone?
At the hospital, no one says a word. Penelope leans on Derek, her eyes red and puffy. Derek stares vacantly ahead. Rossi holds Seaver’s hand, and she shakes. Hotch’s face is unreadable, the hardened lines seeming to multiply in real time. JJ won’t meet anyone’s eyes. You and Spencer hold each other’s hands so tightly that you think your fingers might break. You’re almost disappointed when they don’t. At least the pain would make you feel something beyond the aching, hollow feeling in your chest.
The jet back is eerily silent. You all pointedly avoid looking at the seat that Emily sat in on your last flight together. You had just been with her. You had just played checkers with her at that table, laughing with her at Spencer’s distaste for such a simple game. This doesn’t feel real. It can’t be real.
When you return to your apartment, you and Spencer hold each other. There’s nothing else you can do or say to make the ache deep in your heart go away. You hold each other, crying until you are sure there is nothing left, until you are as empty inside as you feel. 
Spencer’s arms wrap around you, clinging to you as if to make sure that you won’t float away. You hold him tightly in return, your hand running through his hair, anchoring yourself with his touch. You breathe in the smell of him, reminding yourself that he’s there. That you are not alone. The thought makes you sob harder, thinking about Emily, about the hole in your family. Spencer wipes away the tears, though his own are still falling freely. You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He understands. The two of you sit in silence, day turning to night. Nothing turning to nothing. 
***
When Blake leaves, she leaves her badge.
This goodbye feels like a one-two punch. You are all still shaken by the Texas case, by the horrifying feeling of having your entire family in danger. You feel as though you have to remind your heart to keep beating- you are alive. You are all alive. It is a blessing each and every day that you are able to say that. 
Despite this, the damage is still done. Penelope is traumatized, confiding in you about her nightmares, about waking up in cold sweats. Spencer is recovering from getting shot in the neck, still wincing at the slightest movements. Everyone is rattled, acutely aware that you cannot fully trust anyone outside of each other. No one has come out of this case unscathed.
You know that Spencer pushed Blake out of the way- you saw it yourself. He is a stupid, brave, and selfless man, you remind him. You hold him tightly, never wanting to let him go. Your tears fall on his chest, and you can feel his landing in your hair. “I love you,” you whisper to him over and over, reminding yourself that he is still here. You refuse to leave his side, worried that if you turn away for even a moment he will disappear.
You know the pain of everything is amplified by Blake’s departure. Spencer knows why she left, but he can’t help but feel the betrayal. There was no explanation, no conversation. There wasn’t even a note. You think about his face when he opened his bag and found her badge. He hadn’t been surprised. Devastated, disappointed, but not surprised. That look on his face will haunt you forever. Once again, you question every higher power that may or may not be, wondering what the point of all this is. Why are the most loving, deserving people the ones who get let down time and time again? 
One night, you’re in bed together. You’re both silent, but you know he’s not asleep. You don’t say anything, because you know there’s nothing you can say. Words continue to fail you. The minutes pass by slowly before you hear Spencer speak. It’s a whisper, and you almost can’t make out the words. “Why does everyone always leave?” The anguish in his voice breaks your heart. You choke back a sob, wrapping your arms around him. “I don’t know,” you say softly, “but I’m right here.”
***
When Derek leaves, he leaves hope.
This is the first goodbye that doesn’t feel like a slap in the face. The wind hasn’t been knocked out of you, you still have all of your senses. There’s no ringing in your ears, no sudden vertigo. You’ve seen him with Savannah and all you can feel is happy for them. This is what he deserves. No one is bitter, no one is devastated. You are all sad, of course, but you also feel something new. You feel hopeful. Derek’s departure feels like the idea of a promise.
In the hospital, you stand in the hallway with Spencer, watching as the couple holds their new baby, tears in everyone’s eyes. You stare at them in a daze, amazed by the pure joy on their faces. After the horror that you all face every single day, it feels like a triumph. There’s a certain kind of victory to be seen in the euphoria of this moment in the face of all that tragedy.
 “That’ll be us someday,” Spencer whispers in your ear, his hand playing with the ring on your finger. You blink up at him in shock, not sure if you had heard him correctly. He smiles at you bashfully and you beam back at him. Of all of the possible futures you have imagined, Spencer is in every one of them.
Despite your happiness for Derek, without him the team feels empty. It’s not the same aching, hollow empty as before, but there’s a hole where he used to be. He had been with you all for so long, from the very beginning. The team is not the same. You all try to figure out how to move on, how to continue operating without him. It’s not easy, but the pain is eased by the photos he sends of Hank and the time you are still able to spend together.
Spencer misses his best friend, but you can see the impact that having closure has had on him. There’s no weeping, no sleepless nights. There’s no placing of blame, no wishing that there was something else he could have done. There’s a certain kind of nostalgia for the years they had shared together, but there’s also an understanding. An understanding that life goes on, and that not every goodbye is the end. You wish every goodbye could be like this, could make so much sense. Derek left, but he’s not gone. This is how it should be. You know that when you leave, you’re taking Spencer with you.
***
When Hotch leaves, he leaves nothing.
The entire team is completely blindsided. It feels like you’ve been kicked in the stomach. Your boss, the man you and Spencer have looked up to for so many years, is just gone. There’s no fanfare, no goodbye, not even a note. It’s another vanishing act, and you can feel the bitterness in your throat again.
You understand why he left, of course you do. The team knows the importance of family, especially after everything you have all been through. But the idea of the man who has been there from the very beginning, who has held you up during some of the worst moments of your life, just being gone? It’s shattering.
You wonder if you will ever see him again, if you will ever see Jack again. Spencer knows how devastated you are by this goodbye. Hotch had been the one to get you into the BAU. He had believed in you when no one else had, not even yourself. He had walked you down the aisle at your wedding, had consoled you many of the countless times that Spencer had been in danger. He had seen you at your worst and never given up on you. How do you just let go of someone like that?
The first case without him is unreal. No one says a word about it. It feels like maybe he was never really there. Maybe you had imagined all of these years, all of these memories. What do you do with something like this? How do you move on?
All you want is closure- a real, true resolution. You want these years to mean something, your relationship to mean something. You and Spencer struggle to remember the goodness of Morgan’s departure, the way things should be. All the past hurt, all of the unexpected exits. They all resurface. The memory of that one pure goodbye has been tainted so quickly, and you can’t help but feel resentful.
You and Spencer cling to one another, the tears that you’ve held back for so long escaping you. Spencer repeats the one question he has been asking you for so many years- “Why?” Despite the time that has passed, the numerous disappearing acts you have witnessed together, you still have no good answer. There is nothing you can say.
Spencer holds you tightly, afraid that if he lets go you will leave too. You tell him time and time again that you’re not going anywhere. Not without him.
***
You’ve never left. You never will.
Spencer knows that. Finally, he knows that. Throughout the years, through all the goodbyes, you’re always there. The two of you together? It’s just what’s right.
It took a while to get him to realize that you’re not leaving. You honestly can’t blame him. After watching person after person leave, it’s hard to believe that there’s another way. That there are people who will stay, no matter what. You don’t mind the time that it’s taken to prove to him that you’re staying. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do.
Finally, he understands. You're his person, and he’s yours. You’ve been there through it all with him. The ups and downs, the love and losses. All of it, both bitter and sweet. You’ve made it through because of him. Despite what Spencer may sometimes think, you need him just as much as he needs you.
You still don’t have an answer to the question that he has been asking you for over a decade- “Why?” Why do people leave without a word, why do the ones we love just disappear? There’s still no good answer, nothing that will sum it all up and magically take away the hurt. The one thing you know is that all of these losses, all of these goodbyes, have just made you hold each other more tightly. Every laugh you share, every day spent together is just that much more important. With everything you’ve all been through, you’ve learned to cherish one another all the more.
Spencer still has the notes you gave him. He always will. They’re worn and faded, barely legible from all of the times he has read and reread them. It doesn’t matter. He knows what they say. He could never forget. They are some of his most precious possessions, the words that play through his mind on nights when he starts to doubt that he’s worth it. That he’s a person worthy of love.
He is. You’ve never been more sure of anything, and you will never stop being there to remind him. You don’t care that it’s been years, that you’ve told him time and time again. We all need a reminder sometimes. We all need someone to hold us up, to help us through our moments of uncertainty.
When you leave the BAU, you leave together.
It’s time. It’s a hard decision to make, but it’s time. The BAU is your family, your home. But so is Spencer.
You’ve made it through so much, and you know that this is the next step. It’s not goodbye, not really. They’ll be your family forever, the people you turn to in the moments of both triumph and defeat. But now it’s time for the future- your future together.
You both want a family, to grow old together. Everything you could have with Spencer, you want. And it’s yours for the taking.
One night, you’re in bed together a few months after you left the team. It’s just as it’s always been, the two of you entangled under the sheets, your cheek pressed against his chest. Despite all of the changes and the goodbyes and the tears, it’s still the same. It’s the way it’s supposed to be.
You pull yourself up to look at Spencer, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone as you do so. “What’s next for us?” you whisper.
He turns to you and beams that smile of his. That one that has lit your way through some of the darkest times, year after year. “Oh, you know,” he shrugs. “I was just thinking, um, well, everything.”
You nod with a grin, nestling back into him. “Sounds like a plan.”
Spencer is your constant. And you're his.
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idmakeitbehave · 4 years
Text
Tear Down These Walls
Summary: You only called the team by their last names, no matter the circumstances. Spencer wasn't quite sure why. The only thing he was sure of was that something terrible had happened to you, something that made you build these carefully constructed walls around yourself.
He was determined to break them down, to find a way to get close to you- however long it might take.
Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word Count: 2.8k
Warnings: mention of past (oc) death, minor injury, emotional angst, happy ending as per usual
You only called the team by their last names.
It wasn’t anything wildly out of the normal, especially in this line of work, but Spencer took notice. Everyone favored last names, particularly in the field, but they would often switch to first names or nicknames in more casual settings. You never did.
The closest you got was when you got a little too drunk during a rare night out and would whine “Pennyyyyy” to Garcia. It made sense though. You knew her the longest, having met her years ago when you worked in another department. Even those occasions were few and far between, and you tended to keep yourself closed off more often than not.
You weren’t unfriendly- not at all- but you definitely kept the team at a purposeful distance. Spencer didn’t know exactly why, but he had a hunch. He had seen the worst sides of humanity- you all had- and that kind of trauma tended to manifest itself in a variety of ways. He could only hope that one day you would trust them enough to tell them. He wasn’t quite sure why, but he held out hope that one day you would trust him enough. He decided that he would wait patiently until then. As patiently as he was able to.
As the months went by since you had joined the team, your walls had just barely started to come down, but the last names stuck.
Spencer had dared to ask Garcia about you one day, torn between feeling like he was overstepping and like he just desperately wanted to know how he could get past the barriers you had built. He was fairly certain that she knew all about you- she knew all about everyone- but she had just glared and told him to ask you himself. He didn’t miss her change of tone and the distraught look that suddenly appeared on her face. There must have been something there, something that had caused you to hold everyone at a safe distance.
*
The first breakthrough had come during a particularly difficult case, late one night at the hotel. Spencer hadn’t been able to sleep, as usual, and had found himself heading to the lobby in search of a vending machine in hopes of finding a midnight snack. He had found you instead, your arms hugging your legs and your chin resting on your knees.
You were gazing out of the window, apparently lost in thought. He stared at you for a moment, almost dumbstruck, only moving when you realized that he was there. His first instinct was flight and he opened his mouth to apologize for bothering you, but you simply smiled sadly at him and patted the empty space on the couch.
“Hey, Reid,” you whispered as he sat down beside you, purposefully keeping space between the two of you.
“Hey,” Spencer murmured back, drumming his fingers on the couch, uncertain of exactly what to do or say. This was the first time the two of you had been alone, without anyone else from the team there, aside from your fleeting interactions in the break room. “What are you doing out here?”
“Just thinking.”
Spencer studied your face from the corner of his eye. You looked absolutely exhausted and just so, so sad. He wanted to know why- he ached to know why. He was desperate to find a way to get that look off of your face. “About what?”
You turned to look at him at that, and he could practically see the gears turning in your head as you decided exactly how much you wanted to reveal to him. It was a look he was all too familiar with, a look he was sure had graced his own face a million different times. “About Peter and Caroline.”
He waited for you to say more, but quickly realized that that was all you were going to offer to him. “Are they on your old team?”
“Yeah,” you sighed, your fingers picking at the hem of your oversized sweater. “Yeah, they were.”
Those tiny words held an immeasurable amount of weight. You gave no more details, just continued to stare out the window at the night sky. Spencer could suddenly start to see the foundation of your walls, the reason why you had built them in the first place.
“I’m sorry.”
You simply nodded at him and Spencer turned his gaze to the window, completely at a loss for words. Sometimes there just weren’t any. He went to stand up, wondering if you wanted to be alone, but he stopped in his tracks when he heard you say something. It was so quiet that he almost thought he had imagined it. “What?”
“Stay,” you repeated, your words barely a whisper. “Please.”
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idmakeitbehave · 4 years
Text
What About Angels?
Summary: An open and shut case is never quite as simple as it seems...
Spencer found himself praying to a higher power he didn’t believe in, had never believed in. But for you, he would believe in anything. This couldn’t be it. He still had to tell you. There was still so much more for you to do.
Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: serious injury, big angst, happy ending (i promise!!)
Spencer should have seen it coming.
It was easy- too easy. The profile had been fairly straightforward, the paper trail simple for Garcia to track. They were so eager to make the arrest, to catch the unsub before he struck again. Finally an easy case- clear cut, open and shut. It had been so long since they had one that they didn’t think twice about it, running in head first. Straight into his trap.
The trail led them right to an abandoned warehouse. They had almost laughed at how predictable, how mundane. How many times had they seen this before? There was just one small thing that they hadn’t accounted for- a partner.
Spencer felt the noise before he heard it- before he registered what it was. A gunshot. The unsub twisted in Hotch’s grasp, sneering up at him. A quick sweep of the room confirmed Spencer’s worst fear. Everyone was accounted for. Everyone but you.
Spencer couldn’t hear anything above the pounding in his ears, the desperate hope that he would find you alive. He had to find you alive. He ran up the stairs two at a time with Emily right behind him, weapons drawn, as Hotch called for a medic.
There you were. On the roof of the warehouse, blood pooling around you from the wound on your neck. The second unsub, the partner, stood above you, a warped smile on his face and his gun in hand. He moved towards Emily, a gunshot ringing out as he went down beside you.
Spencer ran without thinking, pushing the man off of you. You stared up at him, still conscious as he pressed his hands to your neck, desperate to stop the bleeding. Your face was alarmingly pale, your eyes fluttering closed as you struggled to breathe in.
“Stay with me, look at me!” Spencer choked out, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “Emily, where’s the medic?”
“Five minutes out.”
Five minutes. Spencer didn’t know if you had five minutes. There was nothing he could do, aside from keep his hands securely on the wound, your crimson blood covering his hands and the tips of his shoes as he knelt beside you.
Your eyes snapped back open suddenly and you were looking at him, but he didn’t know if you were really seeing him. “Spence.” The word came out raspy, barely a whisper, but he was sure he had never been happier to hear it.
“I’m here, Y/N. I’m right here,” he reassured you, trying desperately to control his voice as you gasped in another ragged breath.
“Why-” You let out a cough, blood sputtering out and painting your lips a vivid red.
“Sh, it’s okay, don’t try to talk. Help is almost here.”
“Why are you crying?”
Continue on Ao3
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