#Pau's request inbox

[gghostwriter]

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

They are friends, but Spencer is in love with her. Spencer gets in one accident and thinks she is more than a friend. He believes she is his wife. (Happy ending, please)

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem! Reader Trope: Friends to Lovers; Fluff! Just fluff Warning: Medical inaccuracies A/N: Reader is part of the BAU, hope that's alright. I had fun writing this, hope you enjoy anon! Main masterlist

Hallucinate. // Spencer Reid

It was Morgan’s turn—based on Garcia’s glitter paper schedule, to keep watch of Reid lying uncomfortably still on the hospital bed. The team was out for a local case—a series of murders that targeted male divorcees. They’ve profiled the unsub to be male in his late 20s, shy in nature, and comes from a broken household. The profile was correct. The team just didn’t factor in the possibility of another unsub—a subservient willing to do anything to let the dominant evade capture, including intentionally ramming a four door sedan to a government owned vehicle. The same vehicle that Reid and JJ were driving to the unsub’s residence. 

Spencer’s finger twitched, bringing his guardian out of his musings. “Reid. Reid,” the dark skinned agent called out.

A series of whispers escaped the patient’s mouth. “W’fe—” Spencer wetted his lips. “Wife, where—wife?” 

“Kid, what wife?” Morgan’s brows furrowed. As far as he knew, Reid wasn’t married. All he had was a tongue twisting, IQ dropping crush on the newest BAU addition, you. 

Spencer tried once more. “Y/N. Y/N, my wife—where?”

And as if you heard his pleas, you quietly entered the hospital room. Tilting your head to the side, silently questioning why Morgan was standing very close to Spencer. The agent smirked at your presence and waved you to come close. 

“Spence?” You asked, taking his hand into yours. His fingers cold, and for a moment, it reminded you of how still he was when he was pulled out of the driver’s seat. 

His eyes flickered under the lids. “Y/N. Wife—y’safe?” 

“I’m here, Spencer. Safe,” you murmured in a soft tone as you note that his hazel eyes were glassy and unfocused. A physical manifestation from the concussion that the physician had theorized when he was admitted. 

He turned his head to the sound of your voice in comfort before tightening his hold and his pupils blowing wide. “Wife—the baby? Is—baby okay?”

Your eyes widened in return. “What?” 

“Aurora—she, strapped in car seat, I need—need to see her,” his voice getting louder and louder as he unsuccessfully tried to push himself out of bed. 

You gently pushed his shoulders. “She’s—she’s fine, Spence. The team has her,” you coaxed him to relax back. Morgan cleared his throat beside you, clearly trying to not let a chuckle escape. 

“Good—good. Safe.” Spencer was locked in a hallucination where you were married and had a child, a girl—Aurora. You pictured a tiny long haired brunette with his waves, clinging to Spencer’s neck and smiling at you, a set of innocent hazel eyes looking at you with such adoration and trust. 

“Wife—you, love you,” he mumbled before closing his eyes and falling back to unconsciousness. 

Morgan took that as his cue and turned to face you—still clutching Spencer’s hand—with mirth dancing on his face. “Damn. Wife and kid huh, pretty boy sure moves fast.” 

You felt your cheeks grow warm. “It’s the concussion talking.”

“Uh huh, keep telling yourself that. Y’know I heard he said the same thing when Emily was keeping watch,” he paused dramatically to watch your reaction. “But there was no kid—that’s new.” 

“What. I—we’re friends,” you jested. Even to your ears it sounded like a feeble excuse.

Morgan appraised your reddened cheeks, your free hand repeatedly raking your hair, and your lips tucked between your teeth. His well experienced profiler eyes cataloging everything. “As I said, pretty girl, keep telling yourself that.” 

———

A few days later, away from the Morgan and Emily’s constant teasing, it was your turn to keep Spencer who was now alert and awake , company. His eyes darted all around the room, finding everything and anything interesting, except you.

“Spencer? You alright?” You sat on the chair near his bed.

He cleared his throat. “Morgan—Morgan said I called you—” his voice trailing off at the end, too hesitant and mortified to repeat what his fantasy conjured up and what his lips had let escaped in his state of confusion and vulnerability. 

“Uh—yeah. Yeah, you did.” 

“And that we—”

You nodded as you watched his blush travel down from his cheeks to neck.

“I also said that I—”

“That you love me?” You clarified in a whisper.

“You did.” 

He covered his face in chagrin. Spencer wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole or better yet, for all of this to be just a dream—a horrible dream. It was no secret to the team, except for you, that he had feelings for you. Amazed with how your mind noticed patterns in cases, grateful with how you actively listen to his conjectures, and stunned with how beautiful you look even on cases that leak into the late nights—how could he not fall in love with someone as incredible as you. It was impossible, trust him, he tried to deny it to himself and to others. He mumbled something in reply but his hands muffled it too much to understand. 

“What was that?” You asked.

He repeated again but made no move to remove his hands.

You sighed. “Spence, I really can’t understand.”

He steeled his nerves before facing you, without a blockage this time. “According to studies, hallucinations are simply a result of neurons firing incorrectly. But I-I meant it. What I said, I mean.”

Silence ensued. He’s been your ride or die since you entered the BAU. Your partner on cases and your person off cases. Penelope always teased you two together—attached to the hip. Like some magnets that need to move in unison, that need to be within reaching distance. “Oh.” 

His shoulders drooped, taking that as a sign of rejection. He wished he could have kept his mouth shut. He’d rather be your close friend than be an awkward colleague.

“It’s not like that,” you hurriedly explained. “I—it’s just—take me out on a date first,” your cheeks enflamed as the idea of progressing your relationship beyond what it was now excited and set butterflies on your stomach.

He perked up and smiled. “Okay, yeah. I can do that.” 

You watched as his hand slowly crept towards yours, stopping an inch away, as if waiting for your permission. You took the initiative and intertwined yours with his, watching him shudder from the warmth and settled back into bed. 

“Okay,” you breathed out. 

He didn’t let go of your hand even when Morgan entered the room to relieve you from watch duty. The profiler zeroed in and opened his mouth, unable to stop himself from teasing the blushing couple.

“So love birds, since you already named your first kid Aurora. How about naming the next one Derek?” 

My inbox is currently open for any more fluff requests! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[n0vazsq]

Always | Pau Cubarsi x Reader

pairing . . . pau cubarsi x gf!reader

summary . . . After a tough day at university, all you want is Pau's comfort

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 1k+

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . this is so cute omgg

. . . The day had been a train wreck from the moment you woke up. You were already running late for your first lecture, only to find out when you arrived that the professor had moved it to a different building, an email you somehow missed amidst the chaos of your inbox.

By the time you sprinted to the right room, you were sweaty, exhausted, and ten minutes late, earning a sharp glare from your professor.

It only went downhill from there.

The group project you’d spent hours preparing for fell apart when your so called friends barely contributed during the presentation, leaving you to stammer through most of it alone.

Afterward, instead of apologizing, they made taunting comments about how 'stressed' you always seemed and how you should 'just relax.' The words stung, their laughter cutting deeper than you wanted to admit.

By the time the day ended, you felt like you were walking around with a storm cloud over your head. Your chest felt heavy, like a balloon slowly losing air. The worst part? You knew no one would notice. No one ever did.

When you finally got home, the tears you’d been holding back all day began to spill the moment you closed the door behind you. You sank to the floor of your room, curling into yourself as the weight of the day crushed you.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, and you ignored it at first, assuming it was another pointless notification. But then it buzzed again. And again. Reluctantly, you reached over, glancing at the screen.

Pau

The sight of his name made your heart twist. Pau had a way of always calling at the right moment, as if he could sense when you needed him. Still, you hesitated, not wanting him to hear the weakness in your voice. The phone buzzed again, persistent. With a shaky breath, you answered.

"Hey," you croaked, trying to sound normal.

"Carino, what’s wrong?" Pau’s voice was warm, concerned. You could hear the frown in his tone.

"Nothing," you lied, sniffling quietly. "Just… tired."

"No, you’re not just tired. I know you better than that," he said softly. "Tell me what happened."

The gentleness in his voice unraveled you. Your carefully constructed walls crumbled as you choked out, "It’s been a horrible day, Pau. Everything went wrong, and my friends were… they were mean, and…" You trailed off, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I just feel so done with everything."

He was silent for a moment, and you worried he’d hung up or didn’t know what to say. Then, his voice came through, steady and resolute.

"I’m coming over."

"What? Pau, you don’t have to-"

"I want to," he interrupted firmly. "Give me fifteen minutes."

Before you could argue, he hung up. You stared at the phone, conflicted. Part of you felt guilty for dragging him into your mess, but another part was relieved. Pau had always been your shield, the one person who could make you feel safe even when the world felt like it was falling apart.

Fifteen minutes later, the doorbell rang. You shuffled to the door, your heart thumping in your chest. When you opened it, there he was, looking as effortlessly perfect as always. He held a bag of your favorite snacks in one hand and a small bouquet of flowers in the other. His warm brown eyes softened when they met yours.

"Hi," he said softly, holding up the flowers. "These are for your mom. Figured she’d like them."

Your chest tightened at his thoughtfulness. "You didn’t have to do that," you whispered.

"I wanted to," he replied, stepping inside. He placed the flowers gently on the kitchen counter before turning back to you. "Now, let’s talk about you."

He studied your face, his brows knitting together as he took in your red rimmed eyes and trembling lips. Without a word, he stepped closer and pulled you into his arms. The second his arms wrapped around you, the dam broke. You buried your face in his chest, the tears coming fast and heavy as he held you.

"It’s okay," he murmured, his voice a soothing melody. "I’m here. Let it out."

You clung to him, sobbing as the weight of the day poured out of you. He didn’t say anything, just held you tighter, one hand stroking your hair while the other rubbed gentle circles on your back.

When your sobs finally quitened, leaving you sniffling and exhausted, he guided you to the couch. He handed you a tissue from the box on the coffee table, waiting patiently as you wiped your face.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently, his voice low and steady.

You hesitated, but the honest look in his eyes encouraged you to open up. Slowly, you told him everything; the missed email, the failed presentation, your friends’ harsh words. He listened intently, nodding along, his expression shifting between anger and empathy as you recounted the day’s events.

"I’m sorry your friends were awful to you," he said when you finished. "You don’t deserve that. You’re one of the kindest, smartest people I know. And if they can’t see that, they’re not worth your time."

His words made your heart ache in the best way. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. "Thank you," you whispered. "For being here. For everything."

"Always," he said, wrapping an arm around you. "Now, how about we eat some snacks and watch something dumb? We can make fun of it together."

You laughed softly, the sound surprising even you. "That sounds perfect."

He pulled the bag of snacks onto the couch and let you pick what to watch. The two of you ended up on a cheesy rom com, the kind Pau loved to mock relentlessly. His running commentary had you laughing so hard your sides hurt, the heaviness of the day slowly lifting with each joke.

By the time the credits rolled, you felt lighter. Pau turned to you, his smile soft. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah," you said honestly. "Thanks to you."

"Good," he said, leaning back against the couch. "Because you deserve to feel happy, carino. Don’t forget that."

You leaned into him, closing your eyes as his words settled in your heart. With Pau by your side, the world didn’t feel so overwhelming anymore.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @bernalswifeyy ,, @nngkay ,, @justaf1girl (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[obvithe-bestsoph]

introduction/about me

masterlist requests

hello! i'm obvithe-bestsoph. i love football in general, but have only recently gotten into men's football, as i originally started writing about/for women's football, the user is more or less the exact same, so don't get them confused lol (@obvi-the-best-soph).

my inbox (and dms) is/are always open for requests, thoughts and chats, and anything else (but please be respectful!).

i'm kind of basic in that i don't really watch/know the player of that many other men's team, so currently, i just support fc barcelona in terms of teams, and I'm really only willing to write for some of them, . players i would write for (yes, i know a lot of them aren't at barca anymore, but you get the point): - hector fort - gavi - lamine yamal - pau cubarsi - marc guiu - possibly others if you request them. - pedri there are other players i like as well, but the ones above are just who i'd write for! i will mostly only write fem!reader x player, or fem!reader x player x player. nothing again, male!reader, but as a female i just find it easier to write from that perspective. i don't write smut. i don't really have any limitations in terms of angsty topics, (ed, sh, etc.), but there are still somethings i will say no to, but request away and i'll tell you if I'm not comfortable with the topic/idea! about me (if anyone cares/is interested lol) -i go by soph -i currently live in new zealand, but i am half dutch -i speak a little spanish, a little french, understand dutch, speak very little catalan, and i speak german. -my favourite player: i really like pedri's playmaking and skills, but cubarsi's defending is just 😮‍💨 -favourite club: fc barcelona -favourite song: also too many, but probably something by arctic monkeys -i do actually play football irl, right back, if anyone's interested. -i HATE anything with tomatoes (including pizza. ew. sorry!) -love replying to messages in my inbox -i appreciate any likes/reblogs/follows/comments etc. on all posts! -i haven't been writing for football that long, but i used to write marvel and harry potter fanfics 😭 (none of them were ever posted tg) -and my dms are always open for a friendly chat!

i also make c.ai bots if anyone was interested, i think you have to scroll down a bit as they aren't as popular as my woso ones, but i have made a few for the men's team as well. my user is obvithebestsoph

[paucubarsisimp]

POOKS HIHIHI!!

so my tumblr was tweaking and wasn't giving me notifs for msgs in my inbox and i js saw your moodboard req </3

so sorry it took so long but since i have an exam rn so i'll do it after i'm done!! it should be out today and i'm sorry for making you wait!

just a question if you want 9 pics (hollywood) or 6 pics (teen idle) bc for backgrounds i mostly do teen idle!!

tysm for requesting and ily <33

HIII LOVEEEEE

honestly, whichever is fine!! i would prefer hollywood as yk the more pictures of pau the better, 🤭���

have a good day gorgeous 💕

[sparrotplaylist]

playlist posts will look like this ⬇️

Track #

Song title - Artist

any or all of the following

🌈 : lyric highlight related to spoke

🦜 : lyric highlight related to parrot

🌈🦜 : lyric highlight related to both

account notes:

inbox is always open! feels free to send in song requests, questions or yap away about anything related to sparrot :)

only boundary i have is do not send any nsfw suggestions into my inbox if you’re a minor!

songs in other languages are obviously allowed for requests i’ll just be using english translations for the post

playlist tag: #sparrot tracks

personal notes:

you can call me pau!

i go by he/him but they/them is also ok

i’m an adult :thumbs up:

personal tag: #pau yappington

[iovebarca]

౨ৎ abbie | she/her | FC BARCELONA / AJAX | FERRARI

My inbox is open for anything honestly I love talking 🫶

Requesting can be done through my inbox

I currently write for: Pablo Gavi, Pau Cubarsí, Fermín López, Marc Guiu, Pedri, João Félix and Hector Fort.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!

౨ৎ I don't write smut (yet)

౨ৎ Requests may take some time but bare with me

౨ৎ I can't guarantee i'll write anything you request

౨ৎ I don't like to write about abuse etc. it just makes me a bit uncomfy 🙃

౨ৎ I try to be as non descriptive so everyone can be included

MASTERLISTS

౨ৎ Pablo Gavi | #6

౨ৎ Pau Cubarsí | #2

౨ৎ Fermín López | #16

౨ৎ Marc Guiu | #38

౨ৎ Pedri | #8

౨ৎ João Félix | #14

౨ৎ Hector Fort | #39

[artistlara]

🎐PINNED POST ✦﹒₊

I don’t think home’s a place, rather a person. Being in someones arms is home for me

Outdated, check new pinned here

꒰ abt info below the cut! ꒱

Hello hello ! ~ヾ(＾∇＾) welcome to my humble abode. Take a seat, get comfy and have some tea🍵

There’s not much going on here other than a few reblogs, art, and some incoherent rambles but make yourself feel at home while you’re here! <3

Some stuff to note:

This is not a self-ship blog BUT I do post self shipping art and the likes of it. If you’re not comfy with that then you’re free to mute the tag “self ship” or just don’t follow me! (If you’re curious abt who my f/o’s are then here’s a carrd!)

My inbox is open for requests! It may take a lot of time before I actually get to it, but you’re free to send in your oc or a character u like! I still have the right to decline though.

English is not my first language. I’d say I can speak fluent english but I do still get some words wrong here and there. So please be patient with me if I don’t fully understand something.

My art is free to use as icons/pfp and such! Please just credit me somewhere people can see. The only thing I don’t allow are resposts. (For Friends: Credit isn’t needed but v appreciated :D dw abt using my art!)

I’ll add more to this when I remember anything else but for now this can do. Below are more info abt me and my interests!

ABOUT ME🍵

Call me Lara! I also go by Lin or Art so choose ur pick. Any other nicknames are for friends only ty

I'm a minor but not below 16, so please don't be weird!

I sometimes draw! I’m usually busy irl so I’m not able to draw often, but I try!

I'm asian, not comfy on specifying where I'm from (unless we’re close) so that's all I'll say

I have an Insta but it’s quite dead. I’m a lil more unhinged here on Tumblr so this is ur best bet to seeing what I have to offer.

CURRENT INTERESTS🍡

bold - what i’m currently fixated on

italic - i’m into it rn and down to talking abt it!

Sky COTL

Friday Night Funkin’

Genshin Impact

‼️ All my Genshin art is PLATONIC unless I state otherwise (this also excludes the self ship art). I do ship certain characters but I’d rather keep things in a platonic light most of the time bc I yearn for more familial/platonic fanart.

Eddsworld

‼️ All my Eddsworld art revolving around the main cast is PLATONIC. Please do not tag any of it with ship tags. The only ship I’ll allow being tagged is “paultryck.” The way I portray Pau and Pat is ambiguous, so you‘re free to view it as either platonic or romantic!

Other Interests I don’t actively talk abt but they’re here!

Technoblade (not d/s/m/p)

Cuphead

Mystic Messenger

Cells at Work!!

PS. I don’t usually like associating myself in the fandom since it can be a whole trainwreck sometimes! So these are labelled “current interests” than “fandoms I’m in.” I’d rather stay in my little corner to vibe and have fun. <3

My tags are a mess and I should probably fix them at some point but here’s some basics:

#🍵lara does art- art tag basically, you’ll find all the art I posted from (mostly) doodles to (a few) finished pieces.

#🍵rb - all the stuff I reblog pretty much

#🌻friends! - a tag I use for my friends whenever it’s abt them <3 they all have separate tags for names.

#🍵the introvert wants to speak - text posts aka my incoherent rambles abt my thoughts and such, dunno if you’ll go thru it but just letting u know.

I’ll add more if needed. Please do let me know if you want me to tag certain things! Majority of my warnings have either cw or tw before it.

Well that’s all, if you ever end up following me I hope u enjoy ur stay! 🍶

Will add more if I remember stuff or smth changes <3

[hvcheol]

about me

name: pau

location: osaka

pronouns: she/her

birthday: march one

mbti: enfp

hogwarts house: gryffindor

other blogs: stray kids blog (main blog), day6 sideblog, moodboard sideblog

groups i stan and my biases yeet

seventeen ; vernon, jeonghan, scoups and woozi

stray kids ; jisung, chan and seungmin

day6 ; jae and dowoon

pentagon ; what is a bias hongseok, jinho, kino and hui

cnblue (m a casual fan i love em tho) ; minhyuk

bts (not rlly but asdflfj) ; jungkook and jhope

ayeee wassup its ya girl lmao. anyway welcome to my blog! i do scenarios (mostly drabbles) and my requests are open! tho i need yall to be patient bc it takes me a long time to come up w ideas and write smth! im sorry uwu. also, hmu when u need some1 to talk to!! my inbox is open and i want to make new friends╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

[gghostwriter]

Hi was wondering if I could make a request?

I was thinking of a scenario where reader is a artist and Spencer catches her drawing him and willingly poses

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff Warning: Tooth rotting fluff A/N: I think this would be the mushiest I've ever written, it's so cute. I hope you enjoy it! Main masterlist

Birds of a Feather. // Spencer Reid

There’s a common belief that states opposites attract and you’d say you and Spencer were a perfect example of this—he lives opposite your apartment, his career is part of the law enforcement industry while yours is from the creative industry, he’s a man of science while you’re a woman of art—to name a few. But all these were insignificant when you got to know him as a person. As Spencer Reid rather than SSA Dr. Spencer Reid. The same man who helped you carry boxes up to your floor when you first moved in. The same man who shyly accepted your dinner offer as a ‘thank you’, and the same man who tried his best to paint you a flower just to ask you out. 

All these small sweet nothings were what led to this lazy Sunday morning where the sunlight streams into your windows—the curtains softening its glow—hitting his brunette hair, turning strands into gold as he lounges on the sofa with a book in hand and as you hunch over your sketchbook, pencil scratching the paper, trying to capture this moment in time. 

Spencer was brought out of his riveting book on Quantum Physics when he felt your adoring gaze leaving and returning on him. He stealthily adjusted his position to take a peek at the sketchbook placed on your lap. 

He sucked in a breath when he realized what, or more specifically, who it was. 

“I-is that suppose to be me?” He clarified. 

You peeked at him through your lashes and nodded. “Yeah. Doesn’t it look like you?” 

“He’s too—pretty. Are you sure it’s me?” 

You giggled, catching on where he was going with it. “And you are! Derek calls you ‘pretty boy’ for a reason.” 

“That’s just him teasing me, Y/N.” 

You took his cheeks in your hands, minding the charcoal smudges on your fingertips. “Well I for one think you’re very pretty—inside and out.” You leaned in to give him a kiss. “So handsome, I can’t believe I get to call you mine.” 

Spencer melted under your affections. You always did have a way with your words in soothing his insecurities when they reared their head. Two years, six months, and eleven days of being together, you could read him like the back of your hand—an extension of you. 

“Sometimes I wonder—” he took your hands into his as the self-doubt started pouring out of him. “—how I got you to like me. We’re so different. You could have any man and—” he bit his lip. “—you still chose me.” 

“Hey, hey. Spence. None of that, okay? I’m the lucky one. I love your mind—” you placed a kiss on each side of his temple. “—and all the facts that you keep in it. I love your quirks—“ a peck on his left cheek. “—how you wear mismatched socks and always have an extra lipgloss in your bag since I lose mine. I love how you take care of me—” a kiss on his right cheek. “—how I’m the first person you talk to in the morning and the last one at night. And I love you—” a peck on his lips. “—in all of your entirety.” 

He cradled your head and leaned in for a longer kiss. It was as if he was communicating his adoration and devotion with each caress of his mouth on yours. He pulled away, noting the glassy look in your eyes and how swollen your lips looked. “I love you, Y/N.”

He looked down at your sketchpad. The drawing of him now messy and smudged in between your bodies. 

“That’s alright, Spence. I can always draw you again.” 

He placed the abandoned pencil back into your dominant hand. “Would you want—like me to pose for you?”

A smile blossomed on your face. The type backed by such delight and pleasure that he’d do anything for it to never go away. “You would?” 

He nodded, stunned with how you seemed to glow. 

“Okay, okay! You can just—” she pointed back to where he was a while ago. “—relax and continue reading.”

Following instructions, he lounged and open back his book—mindful of each movement that he made. As you were studying him—how the light casts a shadow on cheek, how graceful his neck looked. Spencer was also studying you—how each stroke of your hand was precise, how your tongue slightly peeked out when you concentrate, and how your cheeks would turn pink in color each time your gazes meet.

And although you’d like to believe that opposites attract, Spencer would like to believe that you and him were just ‘birds of a feather’. All the differences were inconsequential because he saw all the traits that you like to point out as his strengths—his empathy, his warmth, his brilliance, and even his beauty—in you, just infinity multiplied. 

And so on that very same day and minute, surrounded by the scratching of your pencil, the muffled noise of the city life outside, and the love that seemed to pour out of you like honey, he knew. He knew you were the one. 

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[gghostwriter]

Hiya! :D

Since askbox is open, may I please order some slight hurt-comfort based off of "From Eden" by Hozier? Harnessing the pure longing this song emanates to me fr.

Something like non-BAU!reader getting hurt by an unsub during a case (non-lethal but it does require a stitch or two) and spencer gets abnormally worried about this one person among the group of victims (maybe serial bank robberies) and when the team notices it and ask him about it he reveals to them that they're actually his roommate?

something romantic-leaning; I just like the idea of him standing outside the hospital room door [OMG LIKE THE SONG] because the doctors told him to wait before he could go inside sitting there like 🥺 "My roommate :(" and getting embarassed when the team calls reader his partner; "You're so worried it's almost like you're dating." sort of feel

Sorry if this is long btw! I tend to go all out on ideas! Pronouns are up to you though, feel free to change anything to your liking as well! :]

Thanks for reading! :D

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Roommates; Comfort, Fluff, Angst w.c: 1.2k A/N: There's so much interpretation for 'From Eden by Hozier' and I had a challenging time trying to capture which meaning I wanted to encapsulate. This is also by far the longest request I've written and honestly this took a life of its own but I still hope you like it! Main masterlist

Eden. // Spencer Reid

The monotone droll in the bank was white noise in your life that you learned to slowly hate. Day in, day out it was the same thing—customers withdrawing, depositing, and claiming loans. You liked numbers, that was how you ended up as a manager, but the cookie cutter business smile you had to keep on your face was a con you wish to part from. 

You sighed. Your roommate turned secret crush, Dr. Spencer Reid, had warned you about the serial robberies that had happened within the state of Virginia and Washington. He advised you to be vigilant and if possible, to keep your phone within your reach and you easily agreed having heard some of the macabre cases he’d been involved in.

You just didn’t think it would happen today.

“Get down on the ground!” A man’s voice echoed throughout the lobby, followed by a series of gunshots.

Spencer’s voice played in your head as if he was a lighthouse guiding you out from the panic. Hide. Don’t panic. Press the hidden alarm and dial my number.

You thanked your past self for programming his contact on speed dial. Volume down and no words uttered, you hid the phone inside your blouse hoping to not get caught.

“You there!” One of the masked men caught sight of you. “Outside. Now!”

You nodded, averting your eyes to show submission. Another tactic from Spencer.

Wishing the call picked up the trio of robbers voices, you stayed facing down on the lobby surround by the rest of the hostages.

Spencer, please. Please, get my message.

Just a few miles away, tension was high in the BAU conference room. The round table littered with folders and cooling coffee mugs. The team was running on a mixture of caffeine and sheer will to solve the serial bank robber case, tagged as priority by Strauss, that had been terrorizing states for a span of months. 

Spencer raked his already unruly hair. So far, the profile was incomplete. They knew there were three in the team but with varying heights and builds in various crime scenes, even that was shaky. What they were sure of was the sick game of Russian roulette they would play with their hostages, always with one bullet in a revolver and who ever is unlucky, dies with a hole between their brows and the remaining hostages are pistol whipped to unconsciousness. 

He knew he should stay objective. He knew that but how could he, when who he considers as his secret flower was at risk every second the unsubs were at large? It was his mission to keep you safe and the chances of you being caught in the line of fire heightened each second.

Vibration from his pocket brought him out of his musings. 

It was you. Right there and then, Spencer knew it was anything but good. You never called during work hours and with the last conversation between you having been about safety, it had settled in his stomach that the worst reality had come to fruition.

He picked up without saying a word, straining his ears to hear any distinguishable background noise. That was when he heard it—the authoritative, cocky voice yelling at you to come outside. His heart dropped. 

No. No. No. Anything but this.

“Sir, we just got a call,” Penelope rushed into the conference room. “There’s a live hostage taking at—”

“—Commerce Bank. 125 Independence Boulevard,” Reid interjected.

The profilers shared a look.

“That’s right,” Penelope muttered.

Morgan raised an eyebrow at him as he hurriedly stood up and collected his belongings. “Wait Reid—” causing him to stop in his tracks and turn to face back at the team. “—How’d you know?”

“Because Y/N works there,” he promptly exits the room, hightailing it to the elevator.

Emily looked at JJ. “Who’s that?”

She shrugged, lost too on who you were.

———

The team had split into two vehicles. Hotch, Rossi, and Reid in one while Morgan Emily, and JJ in the other.

Rossi glanced at Hotch, communicating the tension Reid was releasing from the passenger seat. In turn, Hotch sneaks a peek via the rear view mirror and profiles Reid’s ticks—hands clasped tight together, right leg shaking up and down, eyes shifting from left to right, and deep breaths through the nose and mouth. 

“Reid,” he called out.

Blown wide doe eyes meet his. “Hm?”

“We need you to stay focused. If you can’t do that, I’ll pull you out of this case.”

“I—I can do it!” His voice cracking.

“Are you sure, kid?” Rossi clarified.

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s just she’s my—” roommate but that singular title wasn’t fitting to describe who you were to him. No classification was good enough, really. “—I can focus,” he declared. 

There was a series of looks exchanged between the two senior agents. They didn’t need to be seasoned profilers to understand that their youngest is one slip away from panic.

Hotch sighed. “Alright, Reid, but you follow my orders. Got it?”

“Yes.” 

———

Einstein’s theory of special relativity was what came to mind as he paced outside your hospital room. The physicist implied that time moves relative to the observer. An object moving very fast experiences time more slowly than in rest and that was exactly what he felt as he paces back and forth outside your room, desperately waiting for any update—the good or the bad. Everyone seemed to be moving at a leisure pace while he, Dr. Spencer Reid, hangs on the precipice of elation and despair. 

The team had sent him away, to you specifically, when it was obvious that his otherwise objective mind was of no help in finishing up the case. Was it dreadful of him that he felt relief course through his veins when it wasn’t you that got the short end of the stick during the unsubs’ Russian Roulette? Yes, possibly but he was only human. A being filled with conundrums and good vs evil. 

The impact of today was eye opening. He could no longer deny to himself that you were more than just a roommate or an acquaintance or a friend. Oh, how hard he tried so hard to push away any thought that seemed any less innocent or chivalrous, but the idea of seeing those beautiful eyes broken and in pain made him want to face the truth. The truth being how deliriously in love Spencer Reid was with you. 

His phone rang, disturbing his mind-altering revelation thoughts.

“Hey kid,” It was Morgan. “How is she?”

Reid licked his lips, eyes trained on the still closed door. “I—I haven’t seen her. The doctors are still inside and I’m still here—outside.” 

“I know this isn’t the time but should we know who she is?” A pause. “Girlfriend?”

“No. No, she’s my roommate,” his sigh coated in despair, murky and sad enough for Morgan to notice.

“You sounded so worried. It’s almost like you’re in love with her or something.”

“I am—” your door opened. “I have to go, Morgan,” he hung up before another word could be uttered.

“Are you Dr. Spencer Reid?” The female doctor asked.

He nodded.

She smiled. “She’ll see you now.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[gghostwriter]

Can i have a fluffy spencer x reader piece. Just something cozy where they are all at rossis maybe after a case for some team bonding and chill time. And like he is offering everyone wine and reader goes along like "i can't" bcs she pregnant? Fluff fluff super fluff pls

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff! wc: 0.6k A/N: Reader is not part of the BAU, hope that's alright. I had fun writing this, hope you enjoy! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💗 Main masterlist

Special Diet. // Spencer Reid

Your fiancee and his team had been out on the field for three consecutive cases all over the country. Just through Spencer’s nightly ritual calls alone, you could tell how tired and stressed he was and by extension the other members. Which was why, during their second night back in home ground, you volunteered to cook them a small feast—as long as Rossi hosted it in his place, which he readily agreed to as he was never one to say ‘no’ when a culinary chef such as yourself volunteers to cook up a meal.

“So what did our local chef cook up for the night?” Morgan asked as the team sat around the laid out table by the backyard.

You smiled, placing the finishing touches on the table. “I wanted to give the Italian cuisine a break so I present to you, French delicacies. For the starters, we have here salade lyonnaise with slices of baguette—” gesturing to the mid-size plate to their upper left. “—our mains, steak frites, and yes, I remembered to make yours rare, Morgan—” a few chuckles escaped from the team members as the called out profiler sheepishly placed his hand down “—and profiteroles for dessert.”

Rossi then started going around the table with his choice of wine to match the lavish dinner you’ve prepared.

“If you weren’t engaged to Reid, I’d marry you,” Penelope gushed as she took a bite of her meal.

Emily chuckled. “Get in line, Penelope. I get to marry her first if she changes her mind.”

“You never fail to impress me, Bambina. Now can I interest you for a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon?” Rossi asked as he reached your seat between Spencer and Emily.

“Actually, no thank you,” your answer eliciting an echo of utensils being dropped on the table. “I’m trying to cut back.”

JJ leaned forward. “Our very own wine connoisseur is saying no to Rossi’s aged wine?”

“I’m trying this special diet,” you shrugged, subtly studying if any of the best profilers the FBI has to offer understood the real reason why. Based on Hotch’s small smile behind his glass wine, the unit chief had caught on quite quickly.

“You don’t need to diet. You’re petite and fit, right kid?” Morgan clarified.

The corners of Spencer’s lips pulled slightly up as he squeezed your hand in his. “Actually, she does need to stick to the diet.”

Penelope gasped, clearly appalled at the stance your fiancee had taken. “Take that back! No way you said that, Reid!”

You giggled at the affronted reactions of the team—minus Hotch and Rossi as the two older profilers clinked their glasses together at the side. “It’s fine, Penny. It’s the truth anyway.”

Emily sent a dirty look to Spencer before asking on. “What else does this special diet entail?”

“Unpasteurized dairy, cold cuts, liver, game meat, and raw sushi to name a few,” Spencer listed out loud and with each, the smile on his face grew bigger and bigger.

“Wait, isn’t that—” JJ mumbled before promptly standing up from her seat and rushing to give you a hug.

Morgan tilted his head to the side. “What? What did I miss?”

Spencer chuckled before revealing the most obvious clue. “She has to follow the strict diet for 36 more weeks.”

There was a beat of silence before shouts and squeals emitted from all ends of the table.

“You’re pregnant?” Penelope gasped.

Emily added on. “With boy genius?”

You both nodded, bringing out a printed sonogram safely tucked in Spencer’s jacket that was draped around your shoulders. It had been a surprise when you went in for your yearly check-up but it was the type of news that Spencer quickly became happy with. His own family was expanding and he couldn’t have chosen a better partner than you.

“We present to you, baby Reid!”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[gghostwriter]

Hey, how you doing? So I was wondering if you could write a one-shot where Y/N visits Spencer in prison and just like how when JJ visited him, Spencer doesn’t like the way the inmates are looking at Y/N, and when he gets back to his cell or when he is in the prison yard, he hears inmates talking about Y/N and gets protective. Saying stuff like “don’t talk about her like that, you don’t get to talk about her” or something similar.

I am unsure if there is a fanfic like this so just in case, I am asking ☺️

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Protective!Spencer Word Count: 0.8k A/N: apologies that this took a while. I was feeling very hyper-critical and unsatisfied with anything I wrote so this collected dust in my drafts a bit—still do feel it if I’m being honest but I felt the motivation to revisit my rough draft and make some changes before posting. I hope you like it! Main masterlist

His. // Spencer Reid

Spencer hasn’t felt himself ever since his capture. If he was being honest, his descend to rock bottom started even before then but that wasn’t the point. No, the point was the accumulation of his lack of sleep in his single cell—only an hour at most, the constant alertness from keeping his identity as a fed hidden—his fashioned shiv always an inch away from reach, and the group shared meals—never knowing what other contaminants it has, all made him feel one step away from snapping. He was teetering on the edge of lashing out and like the unsubs that he used to profile in black and white typing, he only needed one stressor before all hell broke loose.

And that stressor was you. 

Visitation hours were always bittersweet. It soothed his soul to see your expressive eyes and beautiful face but dread always came after, knowing the minutes were counting down before you and him had to separate. He had always hated the idea of separation, hated not seeing you wholly and safe.

During the past cases, the bodies of each victim somehow always reminded him of you and here, locked in the confines with other criminals, made his hyper-vigilance of protecting you increase by a hundred. 

“Love, you don’t have to come visit me,” he suggested as the jeers from the other inmates about your looks echoed on the walls. Each whistle and vulgar mention of how your looks get their gears revving was a chip in his knightly armor and although he could see you trying to pay it no attention, it soothe no pain that he was the reason why you were exposed to all this sexualization.

“It’s fine, Spence. I can handle it as long as I get to see you,” you defended. “I miss you.” 

“I miss you too,” the corners of his mouth lifting to a small smile. Four simple words that didn’t fully express the ache echoing in his chest. He could read in several languages but none of them could fully explain the loss that reverberates in him when it’s time to part ways.

You picked on the loose threading of his cardigan adorning your body. “I’ve been visiting your mom. She asks about you a lot. How you’re doing, how you’re being treated and uh—” your lips quivered from emotion “—she misses you too.” 

“Thank you for seeing her. Can you tell her I’m doing fine? I don’t want her to worry too much about me,” he uttered a lie. He wasn’t doing great and you could see that but having been together for so long, you understood the reasoning behind the fib without needing any explanation.

I’d like to get a piece of that, huh. Another crude sentence about you reached his ears causing him to snap his neck to the side and clench his jaw. With all of his vast intellect, Spencer never did understand the psychology behind men catcalling as a form of flirtation and expecting the recipient to react positively. But then again, men who perpetuate this behavior were more of animals in his eyes. Plebeian in thought and unappealing in form.

Maybe there was something in the stale air of prison that made him his hackles rise or maybe it was just his biological imperative to protect what was his. Either reason, he felt himself snap the next day during yard hour when a duo of inmates sat beside him to slobber about your beauty and body.

“Hey Twig, was that your girl the other day? That pretty young thing?” The one with the neck tattoo taunted. “Tell me, does she taste as sweet as she looks?” 

His bald headed partner sneered. “Man, I don’t think he can get her off, probably doesn’t even know how she sounds like in bed. With how skinny he is, bet he’s also pencil—”

“Have some respect. You don’t get to talk about her like that.” Spencer snarled out. He felt like an animal about to escape from his cage—gone was the logical ex-FBI agent and all that remained was a convicted, highly intelligent felon no longer afraid of committing a crime. Additional blood coating his shackled hands was nothing if done in your name.

They both snickered. “And what you going to do about it, huh?” 

He ground his teeth, saying nothing. Spencer knew the statistics of him winning in a fight specially 2 vs 1 was slim to none so he catalogued their faces and numbers in his vast mind and bid his time like a snake lying in the wait for his prey to settle in faux comfort.

“Thought so. C’mon man,” the one with the neck tattoo patted his back and started to stand with his partner. “I’lll see your girl in my fantasies tonight, Twig.” 

But before they were out of earshot, he turned and called back a warning—his last mercy before the execution. “You’re going to regret it.” 

They both hooted in laughter, unaware that Spencer makes good on his promises—threats really, anything to protect his girl.

And when he poisoned a group of inmates who were smuggling drugs inside the jail, he made sure that all those men who jeered sexual innuendos at you, counting in the two who confronted him in the yard, were included. His methods cold, detached, and impersonal—something he learned from the killers he had spent half of his life profiling.

There were whispers, of course, who caused the contamination. He wasn’t deaf. He knew it was what labelled him as a danger and almost untouchable in prison. An emerging alpha in this testosterone filled animal kingdom. The same status that extend to you, his chosen queen.

And so during your next visit when no cat calls reached your ears, you innocently asked about it and he just shrugged like it was no big deal. He didn’t want to taint your mirage of him any more than his stint in prison had done. You were his to protect, his to care for, and his to love.

To put it simply, you were his.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[gghostwriter]

Something where the reader is like sunshine, but gets cornered by an unsub and takes them down nosweat, the reader used to play ice hockey so they brawl like hell?

And at a dinner Rossi hosts, the reader offers to help cook but Morgan keeps poking the bear, teasing reader about their crush in spencer so reader asks if she can take this outside and Rossi is like "be my guest, knock him down a peg" and reader almost immediately pins Morgan and gets him to tap out

"Motherfucker I played ice hockey, I'll always win" Penelope is just gushing over reader and reader gives a wink to Spence before heading back to the kitchen to help plate up dinner

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader Trope: Friends who Flirt (?); A bit heavier than my usual fluff but still fluff, I guess Warning: CM violence, vague descriptions of fight scenes A/N: Anon, going to be honest, I had a hard time writing this. I don’t have much knowledge on ice hockey or any sport in general so I tried my best to google moves from hockey and defense that I can incorporate here. Also I know you mentioned Reader to be a sunshine type but I kinda tweaked it so the Reader can be sweet and snarky both at the same time. No further editing was done, hope that’s alright and I hope you still enjoy this! Main masterlist

Ice Princess. // Spencer Reid

You’d like to think you were hired to join the highly sought after, golden child of the FBI—The BAU—due to your well rounded resume and skill set. But a year into being part of the team, you were starting to get the feeling you were hand selected to match Dr. Spencer Reid’s intellect and observation skills. In most cases, the two of you were always teamed up, working on geographical profiles, visiting the autopsy labs, and setting base in the police stations. All were an integral part of the job, you understood plus you’ve built an incredible rapport (crush) on the 187 IQ genius, but sometimes you miss the adrenaline and physical leg work that goes through catching an unsub. How is it that Morgan gets to kick down as many doors as he wants and you can’t? 

“Princess, is that what i think it is?” Morgan asked, spotting you enter the bullpen with a large pink Tupperware on hand. “It is isn’t it?”

“Uh huh, but they’re not all for you!” You reached inside to grab two pre-packaged home made cookies and tossed them in his direction. 

He looked at the two pieces he had on hand and back to the Tupperware. “That looks like it holds more than twenty pieces. So how is it I only get two?”

You giggled. “Congratulations SSA Derek Morgan, you know how to estimate.”

“Ha ha very funny, Ice Princess,” he stood to take a peek over your shoulder. “But I was right, what gives Y/N?”

A cup of steaming coffee was placed on your desk, courtesy of Spencer. “Hey Y/N. How was your weekend?” 

You blushed. “It was great! I spent my time at the ice skating rink and baking. Look, cookies!” 

“I see how it is,” Morgan teased, watching the two youngest members blush and flirt with each other. “Does pretty boy over here get more than two pieces?”

“Yes, he does. He gets four to be exact since he’s really nice—”

Morgan averted his eyes and fake coughed ‘crush’ causing you to blush even more than you thought possible.

“—and Hotch gets four, too.” 

“Wait wait,” he held up his hands. “Reid, I get. But Hotch?”

You shrugged. “He is our boss, after all.”

“I can smell the lie from a mile away, Princess. What is it really?” He paused, making eye contact with Spencer before turning back to you.

“Bribery,” they both stated.

You stomped your boot clad foot on the ground, in defense. “No it’s not!”

He laughed. “Face it, Y/N. The big man will never put you in the line of fire, not if he could help it. Don’t you think so, Reid?” 

“He does have a point. The percentage of you being partnered up with Morgan in the past cases was at a measly 3% and you were only partnered up with him because Hotch was also there to cover your back—” the glare you were giving him was enough for him to backtrack. “—Not that you can’t take care of yourself—that’s not what I’m saying, you’re a great agent, you have the skills—” each word intensifying your gaze. “I’ll stop now.” He squeaked out.

Morgan patted his back. “What he meant to say was, Hotch has a soft spot for you and your lean, glitter wearing build. Which reminds me, when will we ever see videos of you twirling and jumping on ice, Princess?”

You laughed, his assumption of you being an ice skating princess never failed to make you chuckle. If only he knew the truth. “Never, Morgan. Never.” 

———

In the grand scheme of things, maybe the universe had heard your grumbles and finally decided to throw you a bone. It happened during the latest case in Florida, a narcissistic male unsub was loose on the streets attacking and kidnapping women that all shared the same physical traits as you. This information was pointed out when the team had found the third victim’s body—mangled and throat deeply slashed that her head was almost severed. They all shared similarities with you—slight build and delicate features. So it came as a no surprise when the unsub set his eyes on you as the next victim.

“You’re so pretty, sweetheart,” he whispered to your ears, having been caught in a bear hug attack. “I bet I could snap you in half, like a toothpick. I’ll enjoy breaking you.” 

Bending forward, you twisted your upper body to elbow his face, and breaking free. “Try me.” 

You cursed your luck, having left behind your holster in the hotel room. You were just stepping out to grab a case file left behind in the SUV when the unsub cornered you and made his move.

The smirk on your face seemed to enrage him, enough for him to come charging at you like a bull. You kept your mind cool, feinting to the left—a body fake move from hockey before throwing a heel palm strike straight to his nose, causing it to break and bleed. The unsub howls in pain and while he was pre-occupied, you quickly twist his arm throwing him to the ground.

By the time the remaining members of the team came to your rescue, you were sitting on the unconscious unsub with your hair mused and a saccharine smile on your face. Morgan says nothing, eyebrows raised, as he all but drags the unsub to the nearest police car.

It was during one of the dinner parties hosted by Rossi where the dark skinned, muscular agent goaded you into showing him your moves. 

“C’mon Princess, you can flirt with Lover Boy here later,” He slyly said, noting how close you were standing to Reid who was busy steering the pasta sauce. “I got to know how you took down that unsub.”

You laughed. “Spence, do you hear someone whining? Sounds like a yapping Chihuahua.” 

Spence laughed having spied the indignation on Morgan’s face. “You’re right, Y/N. I didn’t know Rossi got a new family member.”

“Oh hell, I’m no Chihuahua. Do you see these muscles—” He flexed his arms. “I’m more German Shepherd than anything. All the flirting with genius over here has clouded your eyesight, better get that checked out.” 

You scoffed before turning to Rossi for permission who chuckled at the irritation on your usual angelic face. “Be my guest Bambina, knock him down a peg for me but please, do it outside, I’d rather not get blood on my authentic Persian rug.” 

Morgan whooped with glee as he all but ran out to the backyard with you right behind him. He rolled his neck and waved you close. “Hit me with your best shot, Ice Skating Princess.” 

You smiled, not wanting to correct his favorite nickname of you. Before he could utter another word, you ran straight to him, exerting force on your legs and bracing your arms for impact. The tackle making him lose footing which was what you were aiming for then you proceeded to hook your leg behind his, causing him to tumble down and before he even hit the grass, you twisted making him fall chest first and his hands pinned behind him.

“What the—” Morgan struggled to get up. “Alright, alright. You win.” 

You laughed, helping him stand, as the team members all cheered behind you.

“Did they teach you that in skating school or something?” 

“Morgan, I played ice hockey, not ice skating and—” you smirked as his mouth dropped open. “—I always win, motherfucker.” 

“Bambina, language.” Rossi, the mother hen of the group, chided.

You laughed, sending Spencer a wink before skipping to where he was, awestruck and blushing beet red from Penelope’s teasing.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[gghostwriter]

could you do spencer x fem!reader where he proposes in the middle of chasing an unsub?

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader Trope: Established relationship; Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 1.2k A/N: slowly finishing up on the remaining requests on my inbox. It’s taking me quite some time as I’m a mood writer so there’s days where I’m purely focused on my ideas then theres days where i’m motivated to finish the requests and theres days where i have no will to write a single word at all. Found myself rambling and immensly enjoying where the idea was going so hopefully this lives up to your expectation, no matter how late or unedited this is. Enjoy! Main masterlist

Curveball. // Spencer Reid

This wasn’t how Spencer planned it. Not at all.

By nature, he was a stickler to rules and organization. Having created a mind map on the trajectory of his life from the very first time he realized how different he was from the rest. Graduate early in high school, check. Get multiple BA and PhD degrees, multiple checks. Join the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico, big check. Everything was planned out. No matter how big or small.

Or at least it was, up until you strolled into the bullpen with your sensible heeled boots, crisp button downs, and tailor fitted slacks. A new recruit directly slotted by David Rossi, just like how Jason Gideon pulled rank to get him in the BAU. The stark difference was you weren’t as green as he was back then, fresh from the academy. With your credentials considered one of the best and with beaming approval from the BAU’s co-founder, David Rossi, and former member, Katie Cole of CACU, you were an immediate shoe in for the position—joining the team’s dynamic quite effortlessly and with ease.

Meeting you and falling helplessly in love with you by the end of your 6-month stay in the team was never written in Spencer’s books. He never thought once that he would find, as cliche as it sounded, a forever companion beyond the platonic relationships built within the team. He, in all of his intellect, also never thought you’d end up viewing him the same way but you did. He was so glad you did. Any disruption it caused to his mind map was a change he wholeheartedly welcomed as long as he got to come home with you wrapped in his arms.

But at the following moments, Spencer was re-considering his standpoint on the thrown curveballs that come his way all from being devotedly enamored with you.

“Spencer Reid!” you stomped your foot on the carpeted floor of the shared hotel room to gain his attention. “Did you suggest to Hotch that I be on geographical profile duty with you rather than being out with my usual partner Morgan?”

“What? No—no! Why would you think that, princess?”

With your arms crossed on your chest, hip cocked to one side, and analytical eyes cataloguing his every fidget, he knew his lie was done for.

You scoffed. “Oh I don’t know, besides from the fact you can’t look me in the eye, what else is there?” You took a minute to pause for dramatization. “Oh I know, is it because I bear a striking resemblance to all the victims? Or is it because of what happened during the last case?”

He scrunched his nose, giving himself away. “You got shot without me there, of course I got worried! What if—what if you weren’t wearing your kevlar vest or what if the unsub aimed higher, making sure to land a critical hit?” His form slumped down on the bed. “I can’t bear the thought of you in danger while I’m not around to protect you.”

“Spence, our job comes with a risk and I’m good at my job—”

“I know you are. I’ve seen you in target practice and tackle unsubs bigger than you but it also comes with the boyfriend territory that I worry whenever you’re away.”

You sighed, sitting beside him and taking his hand into yours. The difference in size was a sharp reminder on how petite and delicate you are in Spencer’s eyes. “And I get that too when we’re on duty and apart but you know what gets me by?” He shook his head, doe eyes peering into yours with such adoration. “Trust. I trust you to always come back to me, safe. In turn, I need you to trust me to do my job and take extra pre-caution with every decision I do in the field. Can you do that for me, sweet boy?”

He slowly nodded his head. “I—I can do that.”

“Next time, let’s also communicate any small or big concerns, okay Spence? I’d rather not feel lost and confused the next time a problem arises.”

“As long as you promise the same to me.”

You smiled before nodding your head in return. “Of course.”

He leaned in. Kissing those pouty lips that had been calling for him like a siren ever since the disagreement ensued.

———

“Alright,” Hotch’s no-nonsense voice called everyone’s attention. “The group of unsubs are currently holding two civilian hostages inside this very building. Morgan, Y/N, and Prentiss, you take the left entrance. Reid and Rossi, you’re with me at the right entrance.” Numerous affirmatives were echoed. “They’re armed and have proven themselves capable of killing. Vests tight and keep vigilant.”

Footsteps dispersed for preparation but before you could escape from Spencer’s line of sight, he pulled you close, adjusting your vest and making sure it was strapped tight around your chest.

“Be careful out there.”

A small smile graced your face before quickly disappearing from the thick tension all around the vicinity. “Always am. You too.”

“I mean it, princess. I need you back in one piece so I can marry you.”

You sucked in a breath. “W-what?”

“This wasn’t how I planned it but—” Hotch’s voice interrupted his ramblings. Reid. He turned and nodded once before returning his gaze back to your gobsmacked face. “—you did say to communicate right away so I love you and I want to marry you—” he squeezed your clammy hand into his. “—will you say yes?”

Reid. Another commanding voice coming from the unit chief.

Spencer smiled then before beginning his steps back to his position. It felt exhilarating to finally be the one throwing the curveball at you, no wonder you found joy in it—no matter how unconscious you were doing it. “I’ll hear your answer after, okay?”

“Oh, we’re so talking about this later.” you narrowed your eyes in return, taking steps to your opposite position. “Yes, Reid. See you later.”

Spencer looked down at his muddied sneakers, eyes gleaming from mirth and soul flying high unbound before taking a deep breath, schooling everything away and focusing all of him to catching these group of unsubs.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad not having everything go according to plan. After all, didn’t they usually say that the best things usually come when he’d least expect it? And you were the perfect definition of that phrase. His own beautiful disruptor and he wouldn’t have you in any other way.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[gghostwriter]

Hi, love your writing. If you’re open to requests, maybe Prison!Spencer x fem!reader where she’s in his apartment and finds an engagement ring ? Maybe she goes to visit him? Maybe she says yes?

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Established relationship; Angst & Fluff (?) w.c: 0.8k A/N: I found myself rambling throughout this and i dunno if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Nevertheless, thank you for requesting and I hope you like it! 💗 Main masterlist

Cocoa Powder. // Spencer Reid

A philosopher once said that a gem cannot be polished without friction, nor a man perfected with trials. If that was the case, these past few weeks can be viewed as the trial of your and your boyfriend’s lifetime. With him being wrongfully arrested for murder and with you attempting your best to be a stable pillar for him and his mother to lean on.

With tears brimming in your eyes, that was how you found yourself elbow deep trying to bake chocolate muffins at three am in the morning, hoping to chase the nightmares away. It had been a routine almost—pitifully sleeping for only a few hours, waking up before dawn breaks, baking or cooking depending on your feeling, putting a smile on your face, getting ready for work, going to the office, coming back home, and repeating again. And again. And again and again. 

Routines that once brought you comfort, now seemed to be the only barrier keeping away well-deserved nervous breakdown. Your hands begged for a distraction and your mind whirled, wanting to help find a solution to this trial. An act that you have no say on. The rest of the team was doing their best, you trusted them, but being a civilian did not make you privy to the ins and outs and red tape that came with Spencer’s arrest. All you knew was there was a female serial killer hyper-fixated on your boyfriend—and in extension, you and his mother. 

The cocoa powder was missing. The cocoa powder that you knew you shelved away before catastrophe struck. The most important ingredient nowhere to be found. You sighed, aggressively wiping away errant tears. This, this might be the breaking point that would send you to a spiral—a breakdown caused by cocoa powder. A giggle escaped your chapped lips. There could be worst triggers, really. 

You steeled yourself for another search that would no doubt end up with a failure. Maybe Spencer moved it? Maye he moved it out of your reach? You tilted your head to the side, loose strands falling out of your bun. Maybe it was up high on the cupboard? 

Looking back, The idea made no sense but in that moment when lack of sleep and terrors plagued the crevices of your mind, you found yourself scaling up to your knees onto the kitchen counter—no doubts or second guessing. 

You stretched out your fingers, further motivated when the tips felt a foreign object just within your reach. A triumphant sigh escaping your lips when the item was finally wiggled within your palm. The very same sigh that turned into a sharp intake of breath as the warm kitchen light gave away the mystery. 

A black velvet box. A ring size velvet box.

“Oh my god,” you repeated under your breath. “Oh my god.”

The temptation to sneak a peek was overwhelming, to know if your hunch was correct. A peek wouldn’t hurt anybody, would it? No, it wouldn’t but this wasn’t how you wanted to find out about his intentions. Pretty sure this also wasn’t how he planned to ask. Clambering back up the counter, you pushed it back to where it was found—wanting to save your reaction for his eyes to see and for his lithe fingers to slide the ring into yours.

Out of sight, out of mind as they would often say. So there must be some truth to it, right? 

———

Wrong. The box never left your mind. In fact, it had created it’s own quarters within your brain—whispering temptations for just a small glimpse. It was all too much, really. The stress, anticipation, and secrecy made you spoil it for Spencer, an act that you’re not at all proud of.

“It’s a yes,” you blurted out as you sat down for a visit. 

He raked through his unkept curly hair. “Yes? Yes to what, sweetheart?”

“I love you. Don’t be mad.”

“Now, why would I be mad?” his voice coated with sweetness, coaxing the truth out. You never did have the will to deny him anything.

“Top most shelf on the left kitchen cupboard.”

His body stiffened before slouching into his seat. A breathy laugh escaping him. “You saw?”

You nodded.

“And after all this, that’s still your answer?”

“Yes.”

A smile broke through. The type of smile that showed warmth in his hazel eyes and the same type that had your heart melting like a puddle of goo.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Spence, till death do us part.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[gghostwriter]

Hey can I request something? Maybe something where Spencer comes home to find his partner passed out on the bathroom floor?? Perhaps due to a hot prolonged shower? No serious ailments just a little bump on the head and a worried spencer hehe. Thank you!!! I love your work!!

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff Warning: Medical inaccuracies A/N: This is a little bit shorter than my first request but still cute nonetheless. Hope you like it anon! Main masterlist

Blackout. // Spencer Reid

It was late into the night—10:30pm, to be exact, when Spencer arrived back home from a case in Dallas. The team had spent four grueling days catching the unsub and sleeping in highly questionable hygienic motels. The thought of the stale smell of cigarettes and grimy countertops made him shudder. All he wanted to do now was take a deep shower, kiss and cuddle with you, and crash into a deep sleep. 

He entered the threshold quietly, knowing your on-call schedule at the hospital for the whole month was taxing. He expected you to be passed out on the bed—dreaming of sunshine and rainbows but imagine his surprise when he noted the bathroom light open and the door slightly ajar. 

“Y/N, sweetheart, I’m home,” he called out. 

A muffled groan answered his call. 

That alarmed him enough to drop his satchel and coat on the floor, feet clad in mismatched socks sliding across the wooden floor. The sight of you sitting on the bathroom floor, back against the wall, stopped his heart from beating—thirty second full stop—before it started beating again at twice the normal speed. 

“Y/N. Are you alright—“ he bent down to peer into your fluttering eyelids. “—did you hit your head? Is your vision blurry? What—” 

You raised your hand to stop his spiraling. “I felt faint from the heat, Spence. That’s all.”

His eyes widened in alarm as he tried to spot any external injuries. “Did you faint? Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”

You shook your head, causing him to gasp with worry. 

“Don’t shake your head! Sudden movement can stretch and further damage brain tissues—we should, we should get you to the hospital!” His voice cracking at the end.

“No hospital, I’m alright Spence. I sat down when I felt dizzy so no head injury to worry about,” you smiled, taking in your boyfriend’s fussy hands, touching your face and head, and his face showcasing a variety of looks, all painting worry. “Plus, I’m a doctor. Pretty sure, I know what I’m talking about.” 

He sighed. “I’m a doctor, too, and your boyfriend, I have every right to worry.” Wrapping his arms around your waist, he brought you up to a stand. “Lean on me, let’s get you to bed.”

You hobbled to bed where Spencer fussed to situate you in. Having spent all your working hours doing the opposite, it was amazing to be the receiving end—especially from someone as dedicated and caring as Spencer. 

He rushed to bring you a cup of water. “Drink slowly. It’s possible that you’ve been dehydrated and it was exacerbated with your hot shower. Did you drink enough water today, Y/N?” 

“Yes, Dr. Reid. I drank plenty of water during my breaks,” you teased. 

“I sense you’re starting to feel better. The sarcasm is back,” he jested with a smile before replacing it with a look of seriousness. “I know you like your hot showers but do you think you could lower the temperature to prevent the fainting spells from happening again? I worry about you, especially when I’m out on a case. A study found that hot water increased heart rates by 32% and blood flow by 44%, which isn’t bad in itself but combined with your fatigue and resistance to drink lots of water, there’s a higher possibility of you fainting again and again.” 

You caressed his cheek before nodding your head. “Alright, I will, Spence. Y’know all this worrying for me will give you premature grey hair and that—“ ruffling his wavy locks “—would be a travesty.” 

He laughed, giving you a peck before stepping out of his work clothes. “I’ll take a quick shower, be right back and please, stay where you are.”

You watched as he entered the bathroom, leaving the door open just in case you’d call and he’d come running. Sliding down under the covers, you felt your exhaustion pulling you under to a state of in between reality and dreamland. 

Your last coherent memory was Spencer sliding next to you, cuddling you to his chest, giving you a kiss good night, and his sweet murmurs of ‘I love you.’

My inbox is currently open for any more fluff requests! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!