my name is gracie, i write for characters like spencer reid and benoftheweek. you can also come chat whenever. more characters i write for! click here -`âĄÂŽ-
this is my masterlist! click here . if you want to be tagged in my fics, comment here!
if youâd like to know a bit more about what i like, click here!
if youâd like to know a bit more before requesting, click here!
me waiting for mike wheeler to be added to the writing list specifically for me like other characters who are on there thank you i love you best friend thank you đ„čđđ€đđ«
i literally state that iâll write for other character if theyâre requested
in whichâŠafter solving a case, youâre not as confident as youâd thought youâd be. Spencer knows.
a/n: hi!! thank you so much for requesting. iâve never written about reader with NPD, i didnât want to make it the main thing and for it to be riddled with stereotypes, i hope you like it at least.
The tension in the bullpen was already slight. the case was a particularly hard one, touchy. everyone was less than excited and ultimately worn out after the clock hit midnight. Your brows pinched together.
âmaybe weâre thinking of the unsub in the wrong way, maybe weâve got it upside down-â
Spencer didnât let you finish. He didnât mean to, his excitement got ahead of him.
âwhat if the unsub is a woman? then, everything would make sense: the intimacy in the murder, the time in between victimsâŠâ Everyoneâs expressions relaxed as they realized and they continued Spencerâs train of thought.
âGreat job guysâ Hotch let the file drop on the table as he hurried out the door, giving a gratifying smile to everyone.
Everything continued. You felt like you missed a beat. Your sentence remained in the back of your throat, uncomfortable. Hotchâs congratulations landed untruthful, uncredited, too broad for your taste. If Spencer had just waited for 5 more seconds, you couldâve said the same thing. Maybe not as epiphany-like as him, but still.
The team dispersed. You donât let go of it. In fact, it pulsates as you close your fist and your skin becomes embedded with crescent moon shapes.
It was difficult for Spencer not to pay attention to you. You were a force, he was drawn in with extreme ease. Even when he didnât want to, and trust me, he wanted to most of the time, he noticed your uneasiness in you more than he noticed it in himself.
As you were leaving, Spencer walked beside you, his hand caressing your shoulder slightly.
âHeyâŠare you okay?â His eyes felt like x-ray vision. It was extremely vulnerable of you to answer with sincerity. And of course, you werenât about to rip your emotional clothes off and stand naked in the office. Your teeth pressed together with force. The words were jammed in your jugular. If you spoke, the blood would make a scene. Your bottom lip trembled as the corners of your mouth formed into an uneasy smile.
âyeah, greatâ You tried to make that sound as non sarcastic as possible. Spencerâs hands hesitated as he let go of your shoulder. He wasnât fond of you being deceitful. Not because you were keeping something from him, you are far too sweet for that. But because youâd be thinking of the wedged words in your brain until they became stuck. And that was what he feared the most.
You felt wicked as the guilt corroded your skin. You knew you were smart. You are smart. You are good. You internalized these thoughts until you found yourself in the middle of the parking lot breathing heavily. You were confused as your skin contrasted between hot and cold. The car keys jingled in a mocking way as you struggled to make a conscious connection between your brain and your hands. You wouldnât have realized you were nearly weeping if Spencer Reid wouldnât have tapped on your shoulder.
Spencer couldnât bear to stare at your tear-lined eyes. Not when he could do something about it.
Your mouth opened but the words timidly stayed behind. You shook your head in a ferocious attempt to save yourself from the situation. Spencer leapt his body to yours, letting you close the space as he wrapped his lanky arms around you. You couldnât let defeat beat you. But it felt really good to just feel warm.
As Spencerâs fingers raked through your hair, he spoke quietly.
âYou were right first. It was uncalled for me to interrupt you. Youâre so smart, you know?â
His voice was all sweet candy. Your eyes closed so shut you werenât sure you could ever open them again. It felt like pain. You quickly realized not everything thatâs supposed to feel like pain is pain. Slowly, surely, your body gave in and melted into his.
âthank youâ was all you could croak. All your weight was on him. You exhaled out your nose and your shoulders dropped. Everything was okay, as okay as they could be. And you were in love with Spencer Reid.
in whichâŠin the aftermath of it all, the night is loud and you and steve find slumber in each others arms.
The night was gentle. You arenât used to gentle âat least you werenât, not for a long time. The coffee was sweet but cold and so was Steve Harrington, who lay in between your sheets. His hand rested on your hip.
âdo you think itâs over?â He tried to whisper, but his voice came out as more of a cracked whimper, afraid.
Your chest rose, then fell. You could only cover his cheek with the warmth of your hand and exhale.
âdoes it really matter if itâs over?â You shuffled closer to him. Sleep weighed heavy on his shoulders. He needed reassurance from you. Reassurance that you were there, that he didnât have to touch you to know that youâre real. That today, everything tragic was behind. He still didnât understand what that was supposed to mean.
His head shook. He wanted to get closer, to feel warm, to know that he wasnât cold even after everything that happened.
He only knew you, he only wanted you. Your fingers rested on his head, surrounded by his brown locks. He breathed through his nose. Thatâs all he needed, to close his eyes and know that you were still there because your perfume still sent shocks to his heart.
âwhen i wake up, will you still be here?â His breathing was barely steady. His stillness was kind, but his hands werenât still. Right now, in this moment, he was weak and you knew that.
âof course, alwaysâ You closed the lingering space between you., feathering his face with small kisses. As your hands cradled his head, everything faded as quiet as the night. Regardless of everything broken and everything sinister, he gives into your touch. It burns but in the greatest way possible. He thinks that you are what makes his chest rise and fall. And as his eyes slowly tire, he knows heâs alive because youâre beside him and you are beautiful.
Spencer doesnât often indulge in any sort of worship. you break his âoftenâsâ. For you, spencer is on his knees praying for a blessing. You give it to him, of course you do. His faith resides in you. How could you deprive him of your pleasure.
He begs, he shivers, heâs weak. His fingers twitch and the floor seems to be made putty underneath his legs. Unrelenting, he crumbles over you. The bed becomes a haven. You hips become an altar. All around, heâs surrounded by your heat. He knows better than to be greedy, but you allow him to engrave his name into your chest. You allow him to indulge. There are no lines he wonât cross for you. Forever bound, you are everything all at once. He knows he will replay the moment your eyes roll to the back of your skull until the light is shed upon him again.
Youâve always liked wonder. Spencer filled your life with wonder. He did so in the way he picked small flowers and placed them on your bedside table, for no reason but wonder. You noticed in the way every time he read a book, he made sure to annotate it as he did so. Even if heâs able to read an entire book in half an hour, he always takes time on every page to circle and underline what he deems important, leaving small messages for you in the margin. He fills your life with wonder. He makes your cheeks pink, your knees buckle, your face flush. He sees you, sees through you, in the most non-threatening way. In the most magical way. He notices how you rub your brows every time youâre slightly stressed. How you crack your knuckles when you donât know what to do with your hands. How he bought you a foam pencil grip after seeing how you get callouses because of the way you use your pen. In every way possible, heâs wonder-ful. In every way possible, he loves you.
iâm the sweetest girl in town, so why are you so mean? -Spencer Reid
âŠin which you and Spencer Reid seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot.
spencer wasnât a rude person. shy? sure. reserved? yeah. but it was out of character for him to be unnecessarily mean to someone. so you had no idea why the fuck spencer reid had it out for you.
ever since you joined the team, spencer has had his eye on you. you tried to wrap your head around what you mightâve done to have gotten on this child prodigy, genius, fbi agentâs nerves. you were well received by the rest of the team, fitting in pretty well. but every corner you turned, every word that came out of your mouth, spencer seemed to be extra vigilant, ready to debunk something you said or contradict an argument. you had been anything short of pleasant toward him. In fact, some could say you had a bit of a crush on him at the start, which is why him being so tough on you hit you even harder, he was nothing like they made him out to be.
you were telling a story from the other night to the few coworkers huddled next to your desk when Spencer chimed in. âyou really shouldnât go on that many blind dates, statistics show 1 out of 5 women are more likely to get kidnapped through a dating app than through natural occurrencesâ. He said absentmindedly, leaning back against his chair and fiddling with a file in between his hands. You huffed in disbelief and got up from your chair, leaving unannounced with a furious look on your face. âSpencer, that really isnât the best thing to say to someone you likeâ Derek chimed, clicking his teeth and putting a hand on Spencerâs shoulder. âI- i didnât think sheâd be so bothered by itâ Spencerâs brows furrowed, a concerned expression and a tint of embarrassment creeping up his face. âYeah, better luck next time, geniusâ Emily teased, grabbing her mug and walking back to her desk along with the other few. Spencerâs mouth was dry. He looked down, cursing to himself, trying to find something to say that would make up for his mistake.
He got up with a boost of confidence and walked to the kitchen. You stood against the counter, straining your tea bag inattentively, brows still furrowed. You looked up when you felt Spencerâs presence, prompting an annoyed sigh from you. âIâm nearly done Iâll be out of your wayâ You mumbled without making eye contact, stopping in your tracks when you felt Spencerâs hand holding your arm. âWait- sorryâ Spencer let go of your arm, even if it was a gentle touch, he still felt it bothered you. âI just- Iâm sorry, for earlierâ He stumbled over his words, swallowing hard as he tried to maintain your gaze. You crossed your arms and stood there, expectantly. âIâm sorry everything I try to do just comes out wrong, i end up looking like an ass even when I try not toâ He ran his hand through his hair in desperation. Your brows eased, though you were still wary of the truthfulness of his argument. âokayâŠbut why do you have to be such a dick about everything? Iâve done nothing wrong, but youâve been soâŠweird towards me ever since I joinedâ You sighed, hands falling to the side of your hips. A red tint creeped up Spencerâs cheeks. âYeahâŠI- I donât do well with social situations, much less-talking to a pretty girl. Iâm really sorry Iâve made you feel that wayâ Your eyes grew in size and your lips parted slightly in disbelief. Were you hearing that right? Spencer calling you âprettyâ? You were confused, but most of all, you were surprised. Spencer was clearly embarrassed. Every single attempt and every single piece of advise Morgan gave him had backfired tremendously. He told him girls like men being âdominantâ, so every time she did something, Spencer looked like a moron trying not to look like a loser, descending into disaster. He traded in being a nerd with being a half-assed macho man. And you much more preferred the nerd. Now, you saw that nerd. In the way he was nervously fidgeting with his cup, how he was pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, how he was clumsily tossing his hair with his handâŠYou smiled softly. âSoâŠeverything youâve been doingâŠthat wasâŠflirting?â You tried not to giggle, but it was really hard to hold it in with this new information. Spencer pressed his lips together and nodded, his face hot to the touch. âAnd you didnât think, maybe, to just ask me on a date?â You put your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side, grinning at him.
He looked down, then up, then away, then to you. Itâs incredible how calm he is on the field and how dorky he can be by just being in your presence. âDo you? Want to go on a date, I meanâ He cleared his throat, eyes set on you and eyebrows pinched together. âI do, Spencerâ You assured, rolling your eyes in a teasing manner. âGood, cause I really need to make up for how big of an ass Iâve beenâ Spencer let out a breathe heâd been holding in for a long time, relieved you didnât hate him. âSo, how about Bareliâs?â He croaked, still hesitant. âItalian, my favoriteâ You affirmed with a nod and a full smile before placing a sweet kiss to his cheek in appreciation and squeezing his arm, leaving the kitchen with your mug. He was left stunned with a maroon tone to his face before blinking multiple times, fingers lingering on his cheek.
i just commented on your fic! if youâre open to it, whatâs your inspiration for writing? if you read, whoâs your favorite author or book? i rarely find writing like yours that doesnât feel artificial or cheap and i would like to achieve writing anything that can, even remotely, convey the emotions in the way youâre able to. i really admire your work!
yes, hi my lovelie!! i love answering things like this, so i might go overboard, but i hope you can get some insight!! (did indeed go overboard; i can't help it)
the biggest inspiration for me is music. i mean, it's everywhere in every one of my fics. everywhere. a lot of my fic titles are song titles that inspired me. ethel cain is a really big one for me, not just in inspiring my fics, but in inspiring the way i write. she likes to be dramatic in the same way i do, so you might like her!!
lately, i've been reading and searching for a lot of poetry--prose poetry, specifically--and that does a lot for me as well. i find some really good stuff in the pits of pinterest and on small tiktok accounts that post daily poetry from various writers, and some of them are really, really great, even if it sounds a bit silly, lmao. the title of a fic you commented on actually is the title of a poem i read! i wasn't necessarily inspired by the poem itself, but i liked the title and wanted to incorporate it.
as for books, i have to say i've been slacking pretty hard on reading recently, just with how busy i've been, but there definitely have been some writers that have motivated my work. i'd say the first book that i really fell in love with the prose was call me by your name by andre aciman--a classic, of course. it wasn't the plot of the book itself, but moreso the way he wrote that spoke to me the most. i haven't read it in a while, so my opinion might be different now, but i'd say it was my first real inspiration!
my favorite author currently is anais nin, who primarily wrote short stories, diary entries, essays--smaller works that are released in larger books. my favorite is henry and june, a collection of her diary entries when she was in love with henry miller (another writer), and his wife, june. it was the first of her works that i read, and it hasn't been topped since. she does write a bit of erotica, though, which, if that isn't your taste, i might skip out on! (it's more of the raw side of intimacy, not the kind of smut you find on booktok). not for everyone, of course. same with ethel cain. i just prefer artists that aren't for general audiences lmao
i'm gonna try and cut myself off because i can really talk, jesus. but the last thing i wanna say is that film inspires me a lot, too! big fan of david lynch, gregg araki, luca guadagnino. i feel like my writing is more about a vibe, and they get it.
hopefully this gives you something!! writing is tough, and it just takes a little bit of patience. i get very frustrated with myself sometimes, but you're always your worst critic. you'll achieve whatever you put yourself up for!!! if there's anything else you're wondering or would like me to talk about further, don't hesitate to send it in!
thank you so much for your kind words; it makes my whole day. also i answered something a little while ago about my writing process, if you'd like to check that out!
oh my god! i love ethel cain so much. and i also love luca guadagnino. i love call me by your name, the movie and the book. i see where you get your inspo from! you give off that vibe heavily. i also love having my fyp flooded with abstract over the top poems, thereâs this guy on tiktok i follow called rocco frattasio. iâll have a look at anais nin! thank you for sharing and i donât mind the rant at all, i love when people are passionate
âŠin which the very inflexible, lanky Spencer Reid and you attend a yoga class as part of Garciaâs team bonding program.
âThis is stupid! How is this helping the team bond? "Spencer complained, his leg struggling to stay up as he attempted to do the âsupermanâ pose. His arm-leg coordination was nearly null.
You laughed, the rest of the team struggling but teasing the boy as well. âitâs fun and relaxing, spenceâ you bantered as you transitioned into another pose with ease and grace, whereas Spencer was clearly nowhere near. âno, itâs humiliating and it hurts!â He said in defeat, falling flat on his stomach. Derek erupted in laughter. JJ and Prentiss were doing the double downward dog (...) they were struggling to contain the giggles as they glanced over at Spencerâs seemingly lifeless body. You knelt beside him as he regained his composure, he wore a âdefeated puppyâ look. You smiled at his pout, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before encouraging him to continue. You grabbed his hand and guided him through the simplest yoga pose you could find.
After half an hour of continuous torture, the team went out for drinks to their usual bar. You sat next to Spencer, his hand in yours, sweetly rubbing circles on the back of your hand. âPretty boy, were you able to actually do some yoga?â Morgan smirked, bringing his cocktail straw to his lips as he raised a brow to Spencer. âWell, iâm pretty sure the only pose i did was on a 3rd grade level, soâ Spencer pouted, looking down as he swished his drink. âhe makes up for his lack of flexibility, trust meâ you murmured with a sly grin on your face. Spencer choked on his drink as he raised his brows in surprise. Penelopeâs drink nearly came out her nose and Rossi seemed deeply disturbed. Morgan glanced at him with a crooked smile, nodding in respect. âI think we should get the tab right?â Spencer cleared his throat as he shifted in his seat, a massive grin still plastered on your face.âYeah, and no more yoga classes, Penâ Emily chuckled, reaching for her coat. The groupâs voices overlapped in agreement as they got up. You and Spencer walked home, fingers intertwined as you swayed, slight clumsiness from both of you as a result of the alcohol you consumed. Spencer placed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, tugging you closer to him by the waist. âI love Garcia but Iâm never doing that againâ He mumbled, huffing air from his nose in a form of laughter, or a sigh, you couldnât quite tell at this point. âyeah, me neitherâ you snorted, nodding in agreement and stumbling slightly over your feet.
âŠin which reader and genius boy engage in a heated makeout sesh.
You felt him before you saw him. His familiar cologne intoxicated your space as his arms made their way around your waist, hands slightly tugging on the soft fabric of your -his- cardigan.
âspenceâŠyou okay?â you spoke, your soft fingers gliding against his bare arms. You turned around to face him, shuffling with intimacy as you met his gaze. âyeah, just missed youâ he hummed as he tugged your waist closer to his body, as gentle as always. you smiled lovesick, Spencer mirroring the gesture. you placed a holy kiss against his pillow lips, serving as a kind detonator that prompted him to return the favor, a bit more eagerly. You grinned against his lips, breathing in through your nose as you melted against him like chocolate. your hands creeped up his neck, sending shivers down Spencer's spine as your fingers lazily raked through his hair, grounding you. Your breath hitched as Spencer dragged his tongue softly against your lower lip.
The room was dimly lit, light only protruding from the pretty candles displayed on the table. It was lit just enough for you to be able to admire Spencer, the dip from his cheekbones, his lips. Spencer grew scarlett as the soft kisses grew like a craving. His fingers sunk into your hips, kneading the skin soft enough to not leave bruises, but hard enough for you to know how eager he was. His eyes were pleading, puppy like before encapsulating your mouth once again, indulging, overindulging. You separated your lips from his, for a slight moment, heads steadily tipped together as heavy breaths filled the silence. His hand tenderly cupped your cheek, serving as a reminder that he had you all to himself. His thumb grazed the side of your face. You swallowed, closing your eyes to savour his touch. âi think you just might be on the top of my kiss listâ you whispered. âoh yeah? the other candidates werenât good enough?â He teased. His raspy voice was sinful. Your eyes were intermittent in between his lips, his eyes, his bobbing adams apple, his lips.
His other hand traced shapes into your hip before it made its way onto the small of your back, tugging you even closer to him, if that was even possible. You shook your head with a sly smile, tugging him by the collar for his lips to crash into yours again. Before you knew it, his hands were almost everywhere, and your lips ventured to his neck, nipping gently. He returned the favour, his lips curiously exploring your neck. He softly dragged his tongue on a spot behind your ear that made you lightheaded. He pursued your shoulder and your collarbone, paying attention to every spot, eager to please you. You made soft, sweet sounds that only drove Spencer further. You face him. Heâs the perfect image, his lips swollen, his cheeks slightly red, his busted pupils and loyal gaze, everything about him provoked something unholy in you. Your hands reached either side of his face, fingers steadily caressing his skin as he stared intently into your eyes with the maximum devotion. âI love youâ. He said in a breathy sigh. You smiled, the rush from the kiss making everything seem beautiful. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. âI love you tooâ. You cooed. You rested your forehead against his, hand intertwining like something sacred. It was sacred, a slight fraction of time. Moments like these which you couldnât plan, moments that made up for the horror you both see on the job, or at the least, balanced them out. Here, where you could control the chaos, and make it yours.
requesting is fun, and i always encourage it, but have these things in mind before doing so
i prefer to stay away from things like religion or politics because i donât find it necessary for this kind of writing, it can separate a lot of people and i donât want anybody to feel isolated.
i donât usually write anything containing smut, i can write suggestive fluff, but not smut. i do however write fluff, angst, song requests etc.
i approach themes like self harm or mental illnesses in a very delicate way, if someone requests it and i find it appropriate, i will write it.