Pinned
most recent fic ˋ°•*⁀➷ separate sheets
💌 about me:
matilda, spencer reid fanfics writer, she/her
💌 check this out:
matilda's bingo, request guidelines [requests open]
Reblogged
um hello the new theme 🎇🔥🚒
feel like you sent a thread of emoji that represents a story.
it was a new year's day, when the fireworks went off, the air was intoxicated and people lost in their joy. the music so loud you could feel every beat to your bone, the alcohol flowing through everyone's veins.
it wasn't unnatural when a lone firecracker lost its way through the sky, and instead of bursting in the air- it entered your room. but something strange happened, the firecracker stood at your window and asked, "im fucking lost dude."
"come again?" you ask.
"girl, idfk where to go!" the firecracker said in distress, he looked around the room and noticed you on your phone.
"can you like leave? the window's open." you gesture to the same open window and go back to my phone, dismissing his presence.
"a firecracker can never walk back to its own path, it's not in my destiny," he says mournfully, "I have to live with the choices I make."
His face lit up, the sparkles burning at the end of his wick burning more brighter, awfully close to the curtain from your window. He maintains the decency of flying away from it.
"if I burst on your phone, I can save your life," the firecracker says with sorrow in his eyes, "i cannot be the cause of your death, i could not bear it."
the emotions behind his words catch me off guard, a strange feeling erupting in your chest. you look down at your phone and back to him. you wonder if these are his only options.
"can't you-" your eyes search his... well you're not very sure but the equivalent to his face, but you find nothing but regret.
"i know what you of- and no, i cannot. once I've been lit, I can only do two things; to destroy or to be destroyed,"
the firecracker stands up straighter, looking straight at me for an answer, and i nod my head. "i forgive you," I whisper, setting the phone on the floor and backing away from it.
"call the firemen," he says, the end of his wick burning much more brighter, "you're gonna need it."
a sob rattles through you and you run out of your room, dialing the number on the family telephone, barely getting your words out.
you don't have the energy to run out, to saddened by the death of the firecracker. so you stay curled up in your couch, mourning the loss of a good... thing.
"where's the fire?" you hear a man shouting outside your door. you wipe your tears, and open the door. you gesture to the room you were in and the firemen look at you strangely.
"again- where's the fire?"
their words confuse you so you glance back to your room, and sure enough, there is no fire. you sprint back to it and find... absolutely nothing on fire.
your phone lays on the same place it did, untouched and unburnt. you dare take your steps towards it and pick it up and put in your password.
as the phone unlocks, you see the firecracker appear on your screen, waving his burning wick as if he's saying "hi!"
you let out a laugh of delight, and the firecracker moves out of the screen and then you see it. everything on your phone, in the theme of orange- the color of fire.
you come out of the room, laughing- crying in delight as you address the firemen, "thank you so much for coming. i really appreciate it, thank you for being a witness to this beautiful moment-"
"ma'am, calling 911 without an emergency is a felony." but his words fall deaf on your ears, you start spinning as music plays from the phone, you can see firecracker dancing on your screen.
"ma'am-" you heard the call for you multiple times but you didn't pay them any mind. you felt your hands being restricted and the click of your cuffs, and soon enough they were escorting you to the police station. but you weren't upset, if being locked up was the consequence of today- you would do it a 1000 times over.
"a firecracker can never walk back to its own path, it's not in my destiny," he says mournfully, "I have to live with the choices I make."
thank you for this touching, moving, thought-provoking masterpiece about life and death, destiny, felony, and fireworks 🥹🩷
Reblogged
𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: spencer knew the statistics about long-distance relationships—you knew he did, after all, he’d mindlessly mentioned them to you so many times, never realizing that every time he did, it felt like twisting the knife. but despite the initial struggles and the first tough month apart, it started to seem like they really didn’t apply to the two of you.
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: glasses reid x bau!female reader, long distance relationship&timezones, reader struggling with loneliness and sense of gloom, reader attending interpol training in another country (in netherlands tho it doesnt have much impact on the plot), queen elle being their relationship therapist for a whole one scene straight <33
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.8k
𝐚/𝐧: requested by @mggslover but i'd write it anyway cause i missed my og beloved cutest couple xx
Click.
The light switch gave a soft snap, and light spilled through your apartment, letting you hang up your coat and bag. Odd—it didn’t feel at all like the weight of either had been lifted from your body.
Click.
Even such a small sound felt loud in the silence of your apartment. Always silent. When you tried to cover it up with TV or music, the place seemed to push those sounds away. To reject them, to refuse to let them seep into the walls and thin out the loneliness that clung to them.
You turned the light back off—you were heading straight to the bedroom anyway, not even stopping by the bathroom. But then something came to mind, something that made you freeze for a second.
Click.
You knew your boyfriend would freak out if he even imagined you crawling into the bed you shared without at least washing your hands after a full day out—at work, in that bacteria trap known as public transport. Okay, maybe freak out was a bit of an exaggeration. It’s not like he’d kick you out of bed or crash on the couch. You knew, though, that he wouldn’t feel comfortable with it. And that knowledge alone was enough to make you slip under the covers only after changing into clean clothes.
Well, your boyfriend wasn’t there.
Reblogged gold-onthe-inside
𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐩𝐬 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Category: comfort, fluff Summary: Your insecurities hit you on the morning after, but Spencer's reassurances keep them at bay. Content: 1.4k words, implied intimacy, established but still new relationship, adult acne, insecure reader A/N: based on this request! Anon, you gave me free reign and I have to deal with adult acne, so I just projectile vomited that insecurity onto this reader. I hope it’s to your liking, feel free to request something else if not (and go ham on specificities so I can better write it for you!) not proofread oops.
It’s silly really. Insignificant. Half the time, nobody can even see. But right now, bathed in the soft light of the morning after, when consciousness begins to creep in your body, you realize that Spencer is right there in bed with you. His warmth registers first, melting away your anxieties of him somehow leaving in the morning. It’s another irrational thought—why on earth would your boyfriend leave you the morning after your first intimate time together? Yet it remains there, lingering like a coiled snake ready to strike, coaxed away by the confirmation that he stayed, he’s here, a large hand running up and down your spine. That’s what registers next, the fact that he’s awake. Before you. Lazily mapping out the expanse of your skin and suddenly, the anxiety returns, shoving past the momentary reprieve you’ve felt when you realized he’s here.
CONSTELLATIONS SPENCERS CALLING HER SCARS CONSTELLATIONS IM CRYING RN
𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: spencer knew the statistics about long-distance relationships—you knew he did, after all, he’d mindlessly mentioned them to you so many times, never realizing that every time he did, it felt like twisting the knife. but despite the initial struggles and the first tough month apart, it started to seem like they really didn’t apply to the two of you.
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: glasses reid x bau!female reader, long distance relationship&timezones, reader struggling with loneliness and sense of gloom, reader attending interpol training in another country (in netherlands tho it doesnt have much impact on the plot), queen elle being their relationship therapist for a whole one scene straight <33
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.8k
𝐚/𝐧: requested by @mggslover but i'd write it anyway cause i missed my og beloved cutest couple xx
Click.
The light switch gave a soft snap, and light spilled through your apartment, letting you hang up your coat and bag. Odd—it didn’t feel at all like the weight of either had been lifted from your body.
Click.
Even such a small sound felt loud in the silence of your apartment. Always silent. When you tried to cover it up with TV or music, the place seemed to push those sounds away. To reject them, to refuse to let them seep into the walls and thin out the loneliness that clung to them.
You turned the light back off—you were heading straight to the bedroom anyway, not even stopping by the bathroom. But then something came to mind, something that made you freeze for a second.
Click.
You knew your boyfriend would freak out if he even imagined you crawling into the bed you shared without at least washing your hands after a full day out—at work, in that bacteria trap known as public transport. Okay, maybe freak out was a bit of an exaggeration. It’s not like he’d kick you out of bed or crash on the couch. You knew, though, that he wouldn’t feel comfortable with it. And that knowledge alone was enough to make you slip under the covers only after changing into clean clothes.
Well, your boyfriend wasn’t there.
Reblogged
𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your toothbrush was in his bathroom, clothes in the wardrobe, and the sheets had long since grown accustomed to the scent of your skin. you were practically living together, but that day, when you're about to move in officially, one conversation with your boss, one ultimatum, and one decision change the purpose for which you're packing your boxes.
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: glasses reid x bau!female reader, ugh mostly fluff with a bit of hurt and comfort, unspecified height difference mentioned
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 5.k
𝐚/𝐧: it wasn’t a request, but @penelopegarciaismygf kind of suggested it in a conversation—thank you, thank you, love, for the inspiration <3
The golden light seeped through the imperfectly covered window, making its pilgrimage across the entire width of the room straight to your bodies buried under the bedding and, more precisely, to your eyes.
You furrowed your brow and rubbed your still half-asleep eyes. The morning silence was fragile but steady—it seemed to rise and fall gently, adjusting to the rhythm of Spencer’s breathing as he lay on his side, facing you. Although the prospect of crawling out of bed, getting up, and going to work didn’t exactly fill you with enthusiasm or make you want to leap to the ceiling with energy, a small, lazy smile spread naturally across your lips.
Maybe it was because of the expression on his sleeping face—or rather half of it, since the other half was buried in the pillow. Maybe it was those unruly brown hair strands you wanted to smooth with your fingers, but you held back, knowing that waking him when he looked so peaceful and idyllic felt almost like committing a crime. Maybe it was simply his presence.
At that very moment, the sound of the alarm clock snapped you out of your trance and pulled Spencer from his sleep. His temples tensed for a second as his eyes started to open. You quickly leaned over his body to reach the source of the noise, silencing it before it could take over the room.
He opened his eyes, blinking slowly, as if shaking off the heavy grip of sleep that had just held him. Then, his still partly absent gaze focused on the figure hovering above him—on you.
Reblogged esoterika-reads
being president was just a side quest to snow, his full time job was beefing with teenagers from district 12
idk where it comes from but i fucking hate watching movies or tv shows like for me its the least enjoyable activity possible literally i could do anything else in my free time except that which is so weird cuz i used to be able to binge an entire season of sth n a day and not even notice the time flying and now i see a movie doesnt matter if its 1 hour or 3 and im like noooonwayyy and its not even cuz im not interested in the plot bc my to watch list is long and full of stuff im genuinely curious about and would like to watch i just hate the process itself 😭 and i doubt its about lack of attention span bc im totally capable of lying in bed doing literally nothing but stare at the ceiling for two hours straight and only afterwards be like wow i couldve watched a whole movie in that time listen to a podcast literally anything
#matilda's yaps 🪐#rambling lol#i feel like this is such an odd thing to say in a fandom that revolves around a tv show#but i literally started cm in 2023 and havent finished yet 💀#im invested in the plot but the moment i think about actually sitting down and watching an episode i immediately dont feel like it anymore#sorry im extremely bored#maybe i shd watch a movie 🤪
Reblogged
𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your relationship is still very new, and you're getting ready to tell the rest of the team about it. in the meantime, you find yourselves again in another unusual hotel...where suddenly spencer starts acting very strangely?
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: glasses spencer reid x newbau!female!reader, fluff, intimacy conversation, spender being adorably shy
𝐚/𝐧: 'matilda how many more times are you gonna write that one bed trope' AS MUCH AS I CAN TILL I DIE btw i wrote this fic over a pretty long period of time, had a main idea (supposedly), but in the end i'm not happy with how it turned out—kinda all over the place. anyway, enjoy
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4.8k
"My five dollars"
Spencer sighed and reached into his jacket pocket to pull out the slightly crumpled bill. You closed it in your hand, a triumphant smile on your face.
"Let's make bets more often, darling," you suggested.
When you used that nickname, his gaze briefly flickered over your face, as if studying whether it had been said purely in jest.
"You’re puffing up like you just invented the wheel," he said, gently shaking his head from side to side. "And just to remind you, all you did was park parallel."
"Parked parallel, indeed. And my coffee?"
He also handed you the paper cup he’d been holding while you performed those incredibly complicated car maneuvers that the bet was about. It was morning, the first day back at work. January, the first days of the new year. You had just arrived at the office parking lot in your car, after spending the night at your place. Everything around you still seemed to smell of that melancholic blend of the past mixed with the fresh scent of the coming months. And coffee, bought at the café on the way.
Reblogged
𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which spencer asks you for a favor, but this time, you're more than willing to oblige—because you've always had a soft spot for pretty eyes...
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist reader, taking care of a found kitten, pure fluff <33
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2.1k
𝐚/𝐧: anon's request
"This won’t take long."
The woman let him into her lab, where a pleasant dimness reigned, and scoffed at his words. She didn’t look pleased that he was bothering her at this hour. Correction—she was openly not pleased that he was bothering her at this hour.
“Well, I hope so,” she replied stiffly. “I finished my work, I was about to leave, and the last thing I want is to sit here with you collecting saliva samples from someone’s chewed-up pencil like last time…What is that?”
She had just noticed what she hadn’t seen before. The black fur of the kitten Spencer was holding blended in too well with the dark fabric of his jacket, providing it with natural camouflage. He grimaced slightly, watching her expectantly. He was starting to suspect that coming to her might not have been the best idea. He had no clue why he even thought of it in the first place. The idea had formed in his mind almost on its own the moment their jet landed, marking the official end of the case.
“Listen,” he started with a sigh. “I get that you might not want this in your lab, it’s a little dirty, fair point, and this place is always so sterile, but…oh, okay—”
my face hurts from smiling
oh my goodness i swear i havent seen this pic of him before 😭😭😭
canon accurate diva!chemist reader x Spencer reid according to me and @oceanbaes