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aliensunderstoodmyzombiebites · 2 months ago

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Dream About Me — Spencer Reid X Reader!hurt

Reid and you get into an unspecified argument on the phone. Reader struggles with insecurities and spirals after being hung up on.

pairing: Spencer Reid X hurt!Reader (situationship) genre: vent fic // angst + unedited content: VENT FIC! hurt, bittersweet comfort, arguing, situationship, anxiety,self doubt, anguish, spiraling skin scratching, mentions of lacerations, unedited a/n: park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me :/ this fic's comfort aspect is very bitter sweet. I know this isn’t what I wanna be known for but a writer will write when premonitions present. Fluff + Requested work coming soon. w/c: 1197 *unedited*

You closed your eyes and imagined stroking your fingers through his hair. His sorrowful eyes still dove into your mind and pierced your soul. He wasn't really there. You were in your messy bed in your un-kept apartment.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you”, your words echoed through the phone onto his end of the line. He had no words. Nothing mustered from his mouth. His brain had no plan for a scenario cued in his mind. He had no hypothetical, no way to turn. He didn’t even change the topic, he just stared at his phone, dumbfounded and heartbroken. You couldn’t help but feel guilt seep in but this wasn’t all his fault. You were confronting him about his lack of emotional availability, but when you turned the mirror around, you had plenty issues.

"Can I go to bed", he softly asked. "I can't help. I can’t pinpoint how I feel right now… I feel sad. This conversation made me sad." with an ache in your heart, you let him sleep. He has a big day of work tomorrow.

The lack of better wording, never communicating when the feelings first occurred, and starting all these argumentative phone calls at night. After all of your long arguments you cuddled with him in your bed.

“I love you, Spencer”.

The root issue was never a problem with him, it was you and your messed up way of thinking. Your suppression, your lack of admission, and the fact you didn't face your feelings. You couldn't help but feel lost and ashamed. You'd cling to your own empty fantasies, quirky characters, nerd culture, heaps of pinterests boards, and accessories galore. Deep down you felt hollow. You were scared and felt like a husk, and this argument with Spencer made it no better.

What are we? Ran through both your minds that night. You both wanted more but held each other back. Yet the two of you couldn’t help but land face to face, arms wrapped around the other. He was your love, your savior, your knight and shining armor. But you were the dragon of your own story, and you needed your own saving.

The worst part of all of this was the fact you never could sort out what the two of you were. The BAU made real relationships tough to commit and come by. At first the both of you thought the night you two hooked up as friends was the best decision ever made. Until Reid confessed his feelings for you, and you too after. The co-workers with benefits ordeal slowly faded it’s facade. How real did it get when he held you skin to skin in the dead of night. Sleep was the only time you kept your guard down, and the fact you trusted someone, especially him, speaks measures.

Meeting his family, cooking together, sneaking away and going on hangouts that were really just dates. You two thought you were smart, creating a platonic intimate relationship but you both landed in a complicated web of confusing romance. This feeling wasn’t committed love, but it was a friendship trying so hard to be. The two of you would see the spark flicker every night when he held you, but your emotional capacity and the way things were drifting in life couldn’t handle another person to loose.

The hung up call after the argument made your stomach feel deprived, it dropped as you watched his online status go dark. You stared at your screen, longingly at his profile picture. Your sweetheart.

What hurt the most out of all of this was the fact, this stress made him tired, falling into his own daily coma. You felt offended but sleeping is only apart of humane nature. It wasn’t his fault you were inhuman and you couldn’t sleep. Stress clawed at your eyes every night forcing you to think, running your mind circles. Your scratching habit was present through your skin. Red and brown lacerations wounds forming on your skin, dead skin crusting on your neck, where hickey’s of him should be lying. A tiny bit of skin cracked and blood pooled ever morning, you tried to fix it but nothing helped. It all stemmed from stress.

3 notification sounds blurted in your ear. Retracting you from the spiral, you grabbed your phone thinking it was him. It wasn’t. Spencer’s word was always gold, and when he said something, he meant something. You knew he’d be knocked out for good.

You itched and stood up knowing work was tomorrow, that you’d have to drag your empty shell back to the headquarters who hated you, who stared you down. Working for newly hired higher ups who asked you to do their dirty work while random floor agents took your spot. Running minuscule tasks, meaningless, because technically you didn’t work for Hotch, you worked for his floppy lead. You were never happy, you were always tired. You didn't even go out with the team for drinks anymore, even when Spencer begged you.

You didn't feel like yourself anymore except when you were in Spencer’s arms, yet even the genius boy couldn’t figure you out. Even though he’d known you for years, he had a PhD, he’d known you the best. You felt alone, unhappy, a prisoner in your own body, the guard to your own mind. That wasn’t his fault. You couldn't help but feel sick. You just wanted to be helped, to be saved, but that wasn’t spencer’s job that wasn’t anybody's job. If anything it was yours, but how? You dug into your skin pondering the question.

You were so terrified of getting hurt. You built a fortress around yourself, letting nobody in including yourself. Your spirals never helped but you had one consistently bright thought running throughout. You didn’t know what you needed right now, except a hug from the man you called home.

Next thing you know you were starting your car and driving towards his apartment in the middle of the night. You parked your car. You stood at his porch, his room was on the first floor, the window right next to the door. You watched the moonlight creep into his draws. With no hesitation, you rang his doorbell.

A drowsy Spencer, rubbing his eyes, loomed towards the door. After unlocking the it, he finally realized it was you, and why you came.

“Angel..”, he yearned.

He locked eyes with you, you couldn’t read his exact thoughts but they were full of love and concern. He dropped his phone. He held onto it after he'd hung up, he was on speed dial and he was going to call you before he got sleepy again. You both grabbed each other. Falling into a loving embrace, holding each other tightly. He spun you into his house and he guided to your hand into his room.

The two of you laid on his the carpet, not saying a word. You laid on his chest while you strung your fingers through his messy locks, he held you. He etched sweet circles into your back, tracing your arms and lower back. Slowly he dozed back off and, letting his mind go to nothing. You two fell asleep on his floor dreaming about what life could’ve been, what it will be.

💚 💜

#vent fic #spencer reid x reader #angst #unedited #i love you #if you find this you are my muse

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aliensunderstoodmyzombiebites · 2 months ago

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comfort.

title says it all, reader has hair, no length described/only described as tangled, NOOO GENDER SPECIFIED!!

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"bed rotting: bed rotting is a phrase from social media wherein a person stays in bed for an entire day without engaging in daily activities and chores."

that's what you'd been doing, for what felt like a whole week. spencer had been gone, your friends ignoring you, no calls, or texts. except for spencers frequent messages. he checked on you every day, asking how you are, what you'd been doing. truth is, you'd been in and out of bed, only to collect snacks, hydrate and use the bathroom. you'd showered only once that week, hair matted, shared room a mess.

your body lay still, even as keys turn in the lock. when he said he was coming back, you'd wanted to clean, wash up. it felt like it was too late.

the bedside table is crowded with empty plastic bottles, yet at least half of every food wrapper is still full. you hear his converse hit the ground, heart feeling just as heavy as it did all week. ten thousand and eighty minutes (give or take), blankets pulled to your chin. your thoughts broken by steps, climbing up the stairs. the click of the door handle breaks you from the daze you're in. you almost feel paralyzed.

his voice cracks through the silence, the silence that'd dragged on for days. its a foreign sound, you hate admitting you forgot what he sounds like.

"angel?" spencers tone sounds pleading, begging for a response. he'd seen you like this before, almost catatonic. his heart clenches, he should've been there but he wasn't. instead of being home with his perfect, sweet lover. he had to chase a scumbag around a whole other state. if he knew you were like this, he'd have walked the miles back to you.

a gentle, larger hand finds your hair. Its tangled, slightly greasy from the lack of washing. spencer wasn't going to shame you for that though, at all. he'd definitely seen worse - he always told you that, you always told yourself that too. your eyes met and you felt tears gathering in your own, with a small movement he pulls your head into his lap.

it wasn't long before he'd encouraged you to open up, to finally get out of bed. sharing a shower never felt better, running conditioner through small knots before they come undone. his hands so gentle, the gentleness you could never give to yourself, he longed to make sure you felt it somehow. when your shower was over, spencer left the bathroom in a towel. he'd stepped out to do a quick sweep of the room, clearing up enough that the sight wouldn't stress you out.

when you finally come back into the room he embraces you softly. your damp hair tickles his chin as he plants a lingering kiss on your head, he had also changed the sheets. the others discarded in the washing pile, haphazardly because all he wanted now was to look after you, give you what you need.

that night you drifted off in his arms, finally feeling safe, like you were worth something. it all came down to him.

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aliensunderstoodmyzombiebites · 2 months ago

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MOOOTS I GOTTA GET OUTTA THE SMUT GAME FR

releaseee meeee :sobbbb: i wanna be a good fanfic writer but i zooo not want my main thing to be smut. it okey tho i guess thats what i get for writing abt shirtless men =.=

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aliensunderstoodmyzombiebites · 2 months ago

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thank you to everyone who's loving & interacting w my first fic! the support on my first is absolutely mind boggling n i'm so beyond grateful everyone liked it!! my requests are open & i'll be posting a new gubler fic that was requested! mgg x reader!actor au friends to lovers. i look forward to writing itttt (˶˃⤙˂˶) !!

i wanna start writing for spencer as well. i just got onto s3 so expect some fluff blurbs abt anatomy, magic tricks, or a regular fic.

seeing spencer's in rossi's debut ep makes we wanna throw the team back into oregon n make a summerween fic,, hehe lmk what yall think!

again, requests open + stay tuned ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

Morning Glow — Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader!Personal Assistant AU

It’s a warm morning in Southern California & you’re Matthew’s assistant, preparing him for an appearance in LA. Except there are a few outshining & bare complications while getting out of bed.

pairing: Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader!Personal Assistant AU genre: raunchy will they won't they content warnings: no y/n, celebrity x assistant, denial of feelings, nudity, teasy gubler, reader is flustered af, IDIOTS who don’t realize they're in love, reader calls Matthew “Matt” & "Mr. Gubler" (when attempting to be profesh) btw! a/n: first fic on here + in a while!! lets goooo :00 i take requests! i am vv new to the criminal minds fandom as well, so expect more content sooonnnn w/c: 2.9k

You’ve been Matthew’s assistant for years now. He had hired you in the peak of his Criminal Minds days, and he’s been attached to your hip since. As much as the “assistant” label weighed on, between you and Matthew, you both knew who was the real boss. Don’t get it twisted, Matthew was a smart guy, but around a pretty face like yours, he was a playful dope and a tease.

The two of you were staying at his house in SoCal. He had purchased the property to have a stable place to stay when visiting LA. The Gubler family was rumored to be old money. However, you never knew the truth, as his assistant, you only knew the celebrity side of Matthew. Never had he dragged you to an aunt’s Christmas or Thanksgiving. Although he’s definitely thought of it, he never followed through.

His Los Angeles house was filled with all his Hollywood paraphernalia, gifted props reminiscent of old projects, and his halls were decorated with thrifted photo frames filled with old co-stars & signatures from admired bigwigs. 68 Kill, Criminal Minds, 500 Days of Summer, fricken Alvin & the Chipmunks. You name it and he’d have at least one knick-knack from it lying in this humble abode. Not to mention the only clothes in this house were fancy appearance wear & costumes stolen from wardrobe.

If you think that’s much, imagine what the collector’s main apartment is back home in New York. And you were the lucky duck who had to carry everything from the thrift back up into the elevator. Matthew loved the obscure, antique, and bizarre. And when the two of you were at a vintage thrift store, he was the equivalent of a teenage girl with daddy’s credit card at the mall.

Ready to spend, locked and loaded.

It was the morning, you knew Matthew’s travel routine & made coffee for him to soothe the jet lag. You knew how he liked it, drowning in sugar and doused with coconut creamer. You knocked on his door and walked in with your planner under your arm and the ruby red mug, his coffee overly sweet just like him.

“Your coffee, Mr. Gubler.”

Matthew sat up, the blanket covering his chest as he stretched. He groaned before slowly opening his eyes, the sunlight crept through the blinds. He tried to rub the sleepiness from his eyes, attempting to wake up. He looked up to see you standing there with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of you.

"Do you always have to call me that?”, he grinned, his voice sounded deep and gravelly from just waking up.

“Yes, now drink up, we have a busy day today.” He sat up with the blanket wrapped around his torso, he grabbed the coffee, and grazed your soft hands. He leaned in towards the ruby ceramic. Love at first sip. He clicked his tongue and let out a hum. The taste of your coffee had graced his mouth yet again; it was always his favorite part of the morning, especially when flying out. No matter what, your coffee tasted like home, and the delight of coconut melted his tongue.

"This is exactly what I needed, thank you so much, you’re an angel.” He called you that from day one, you were his little miracle maker. Sometimes when Matthew was alone, he’d ponder on how lucky he was to find someone like you… an assistant that was. He sighed in admiration,

“What would I do without you?" You were taken a back a bit, surprised by his tone, pink tint flushed your cheeks.

“Your biggest appointment for today is the pilot reading for Einstein. Let's say we get- I mean, you get brunch?” His comment had thrown you off your libido. Subconsciously, your mind had drifted to your other (*) feelings for Matthew. You continued to stumble about a nearby cafe toward the beach, praying he wouldn’t have noticed a thing. Soon after realizing your awkward mini spiral, you shut up and froze, hoping Gubler hadn’t seen your stammers, shaky palms, and sweat drops.

He raised an eyebrow and paused, a smirk quickly growing at the corner of his mouth. He noticed the fumble in your demeanor, but didn't say anything about it. In fact, it was almost endearing, in a way. It was cute to see you blunder over such a small mistake. He held you to such a high standard, it was rare yet adorable to see you in such a soft light.

"Sounds perfect to me." As he beamed, you couldn’t help but notice a small glimpse of sunshine slipping from underneath the blanket. Matthew’s toned golden skin shone, and you couldn’t help but stare.

Matthew noticed you’d gone silent. You’d dropped the planner on the bed and he was confused for a bit. As he traced down the direction of your eyes, he noticed what you were staring at, he chuckled softly, dragging a hint of morning gravel still in his throat. He shifted under the bedcovers, the blanket slipped even lower, “accidentally” revealing more of his golden skin and bare torso. Wanting to mess with you, he slightly turned towards the nightstand, placing his torso and shockingly ripped arm out for you on display. He put his coffee next to his lamp, dropping his jaw ever so slightly like a pin-up girl, eyeing you up and down, assuring you’d look at him. He watched your gaze rake over him for a moment, he enjoyed the attention.

“See something you like?” The words escaped from his mouth like smoke. He didn’t think; he put no thought into how that’d make you feel. Oh no, were you gonna think he’s weird? It's 8 am, Matthew, think!

In the back of his head, he panicked. That was until he realized you were still standing there in awe. Apparently, for you, between now and filming on set, unveiling himself was far more different. While filming, you two were with a team of professionals and visionaries, Matthew’s actions constantly directed. The gleaming feast before you was all natural and secluded for your eyes only.

Alone, only for you, together. Just you and the Greek god Apollo, apparently? Matthew’s physique led you to believe he was sculpted by the heavens or an imported Greek statue. With how frozen in awe you were, you could be considered a statue too!

Matthew always had a habit of flirting with you. He had a habit of flirting with everyone, and you knew that. But between him, you were different. Every smirk, every tease, every compliment, every ‘dat ass’ line had truth behind. And although you were standing bestowed to his eyes, there were many days he wouldn't stop staring at you back. He typically assumed any and all of your advances were feeding his delusions. That you didn’t like him back and he was imagining things. He hadn’t realized you felt the same way.

You still stood awkward an tall, not letting a single one escape. Matthew, waiting, pushed himself up further the bed, adjusting his sitting position, and the blanket slipped down even more. He leaned against the headboard, his bare chest on full display, and gave you a lopsided grin.

GOD you were PANICKING. In his mind he didn’t know what else to do but he smiled and showed off what he knew you liked. Another one-liner mine ticked off in his head with no recollection.

"You're staring, dear." he muttered.

Something in your head snapped. You stiffened; you were not going to play games with your employer. Matthew had been stringing you along since day one, and you weren’t going to let that chiseled torso or those hams for arms distract you. Even if the sun graced his skin, outlining each and every curve on his invigorating body.

You took a breath in “I am not every other actor and model in your life, Matthew. We don't have time for games, I don't have time for games. If you'll excuse me, we are on the clock.” You point at the time.

His smile faded as you spoke, decompressing his playful manner. Like every guy around a pretty face, he was a dope around you, a flirtatious idiot who couldn’t pick up a cue or hint. But now he could tell you meant business, you cared for him but most importantly you were doing your job.

"I-I-I am sorry," he said, held his hands up and lifted the blanket right back to his chest. "I was just messing with you. I didn't think you'd take it so seriously."

You smirked at the loop hole in his sentence, “What makes you think I’m not serious about my job, Mr. Gubler” you playfully pushed.

Matthew grinned, welcoming back the you he was used to, he leaned back against the headboard again and took another sip of his coffee. "Oh, I know you're serious about your job. You're damn good at it, too. But I just didn't think you'd take my little joke this seriously."

Joke? Staring you down, flashing you his Greek god physique, that’s what he considers a joke? Deep down, you had the strongest feelings for Matthew, but you’d never make an advance; you were professional, and at every time it seemed he showed interest, he played you the next second. Just once, what you would do to get a bite of that man sculpted by the Gods. For how quirky he was, he was 10 times more beautiful, and for how beautiful he was, he was 10 times more confusing.

Little did you know, Matthew felt heavy for you as well, and wanted more than just a bite.

Matthew still couldn’t help but admire you, even after you had scolded him. Many times he’d watch your eyes roam (especially over his body), your hair glooming onto your silhouette, the way you’d fidget with your hands and necklace when you were bored or nervous. He could watch you forever, especially now.

“...Well… are you gonna get up?”, you reminded.

He pushed out a breath resembling a laugh. Again, he was caught daydreaming, still lounging in bed while you were ready to start the day.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm getting up. Give me a minute."

He pushed the blankets aside and swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing up and stretching his arms above his head, letting out a low grunt as he did so.

Your eyes widened, as it drew down to the structure of his waist.

“Matt… you're not wearing any-”

He looked down at his own body, realizing what you were referring to. His eyes widened slightly, quickly grabbing the blanket with his right hand. His nervous grip slipped it over a few times.

"Oh. So, I'm not!" he clawed at the air, barely juggling the fabric. He struggled to grab it until he finally caught it with his left hand. He immediately covered his crotch.

Underneath your surprised expression, poked out a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of your mouth As Matthew tried to catch his breath, he grew suspicious of your amusement.

"Like what you see?" he teased, his voice low. Matthew classically straight-frowned his mouth, waving awkwardly.

He noticed your eyes being glued to his bare chest, your gaze still lingering, now at his lower body.

Matthew blushed, raking his free hand through his hair, tousling the already messy locks out of embarrassment.

You dramatically signed, “You know my answer would get me fired, Matt.”

"Oh, I'm fully aware. But that doesn't stop me from asking, does it?"

He chuckled, crossing his arms resting the blanket on his shoulders, swallowing his body. He leaned against the dresser with a smirk.

“Matt..” Matthews's breath caught in his chest as you couldn’t help but step closer, “You know... exactly what's going on in my head”, you pouted giving him those puppy eyes he always fell for. The two of you get so close you’re practically pinning him against the dresser. One more move and you two would practically be making out.

His arms fell to his sides, blanket still wrapped while his hands gripped the edge of the dresser behind him.

His heart rate quickened as you got closer, the space between you both practically disappearing.

Gripping the dresser in anticipation, he swallowed hard, his eyes locked onto yours. His gaze flickered down to your lips for a moment before meeting your eyes again.

You had him in the palm of your hand. You slowly glanced to your black button-up, and started to pop a button. Barring your eyes, you smirked.

“Like what you see, Matt”

His soul practically left his body at the heavenly sight, that was until you yelled sike and reminded him of the day ahead. You turned to grab the planner you left on the bed but heard a bump behind you.

Matthew accidentally knocked the half full mug that still laid on the dresser. He quickly apologized to the inanimate object, trying to catch it mid-fall.

In an attempt to grab the coffee cup from behind him, there you got a face full of Gubler ass. The embarrassment & flusteredness didn’t help at all.

You left the room, grabbed a towel and an extra pair of jeans. When you walked backed in you were awkwardly greeted by a naked Matthew using a coffee stained blanket as a loincloth.

You placed the jeans on the bed and started to giggle. You turned around as he let out a thank you. Popular to contrary belief, this wasn’t the first time this event very happened; you two were used to it by now and both loved joking around.

“Goddammit, you are such a tease, you know that?" he shouted, hopping into the other pant leg. “I swear, you’re gonna be the death of me!”

“Not if you’re mine first!” you grinned.

He shook his head, you always knew how to keep him on his toes, he both loved and hated you for it.

He zipped his fly and walked towards you, you didn’t notice as you were flipping the planner pages, checking his schedule for the next month. You heard his chuckle erupt from the back of your neck. It was so unexpected, he gave you butterflies.

“You’re something else, you know that?” He leaned towards your left ear, “One of these days I’m going to make you pay, just you wait” a smile laced his mouth.

You groaned. While he was focused on his "revenge", you were focused on getting him out on time. “We can go over that during brunch! Let’s go”, you jumped.

He held you up, “Wait a minute, let me get dressed.”

You sat on the bed waiting for him as he scrounged through the damp dresser. When you lifted your head up from the planner, you saw him buttoning a black long sleeve, similar to yours.

“Are you serious? The last time we matched, the press thought we were dating”

With no hesitation, he responded, “So? Last time you said you liked the rumors.”

You denied it, just like you always denied your feelings for him. He grabbed your hand, anyway. Smiling at you, and admiring your everything. You two quickly ran out the door to bicker over brunch.

#new writers on tumblr #mgg #matthew gray gubler #fanfic #requests open #writing requests

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