Summary: based on the song “this is how you fall in love” by jeremy zucker and a cute tiktok i watched of a first look at a couple’s wedding.
A/N: i haven’t written in a while, so i’ve given you a small blurb to kind of rekick my motivation. also i wrote this almost entirely for my pal who has a thing for marriage.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Reader
Category: SFW fluff.
Content Warning: None!
Word Count: 547
The aisle in front of me is littered in crushed and fluttering petals, the little girl responsible for them skipping towards the altar. I see myself in her, watch my childlike innocence and perception of love make my path down the aisle. When you’re little, love just means, ‘who will hold my hand on the playground when we play tag?’ and I can’t help but think that’s not much different from what love means to me now. It’s less playground and more life, but I know now all I want is someone to be there. Whether it’s during the formation of love or the expression of it, Spencer is the one I want by my side. I can’t make myself look up though, not yet, gaze fixated on my shoes. Will Spencer be excited, grinning from ear to ear? Did someone fix his hair, or is it curling over his collar? Will he cry? Oh, I hope he doesn’t cry. If he cries, I’ll cry and both of us will look ridiculous.
When he asked me to marry him, we were in his living room. He had been fidgety all day, keeping his hands in his pockets the whole day. We had laid out a blanket and pillows to have a movie night, my one request for our date night.
He couldn’t get comfortable, and finally I turned and asked, “What is up with you today?” and when I turned, there was a little back velvet box in his hand.
“Is that…?” I had asked.
He nodded, tears welling up. “Will you marry me?” Of course I said yes, and now here we are, my hands fiddling with my engagement ring around my bouquet, and I get the nerve to look up at him.
He’s not crying now, at least from what I can see at the beginning of the aisle, but when he meets my eyes, I feel everything from the last few years in his eyes. Clutching my arm, Hotch gives me a look that says, Are you ready? I nod as we start to walk down the aisle to him, and I mouth “I love you” to him, and he says it out loud, over the music and our family and friends burst out into joyous laughter. I remember then that Spencer and I are not alone, and grin sheepishly up at Hotch.
“It’s okay.” He whispers. “This is about you, not us.” I settle back down, meeting Spencer’s eyes yet again. He’s starting to mist up, and I shake my head and mouth, Don’t cry! and he laughs. I see the smile crinkle the skin beside his eyes, and I feel tears coming to mine too.
We reach the end of the aisle, and Spencer reaches out a hand for me. We’ve never been one for tradition. Hotch smiles, and hands me away, and I take my place in front of Spencer.
“Hi.” He whispers.
“Hi.” I giggle back, seeing stars and life and love and everything in the eyes of the man before me. I squeeze his hands not once, but three times. I love you.
And that is how you fell in love, and this is how you fall in love, and this will be how we fall in love forever.
I hit 900 followers yesterday, and I also want to thank everyone who follows this blog, it means a lot to me that you want to read my writing <3 To celebrate, I decided to attach a little excerpt from the Spencer fic I’m working on, I’m thinking of titling it “Bookworm.” (This is also the first time I’m writing in Spencer’s pov, so I hope it sounds alright … might be a little ooc) Let me know what you think :))
This is the prompt … reader lends spencer a book and doesn’t find it remotely interesting but agrees to read it just because they looked so excited.
I could never really say no when it came to them. Sure, it started out as small acts of kindness and common courtesy you usually pay anyone that you’re friendly with. But I found myself filling up their mug with coffee, even when I wasn’t planning on getting one for myself. Or even to grab paperwork from the copy machine that laid other side of the bullpen, when I really only got up to mention something to Hotch.
That was also why I had a book – that I never really was interested in reading – staring at me from my coffee table. It’ll only take me thirty minutes or less to get through, but that wasn’t the point.
It had to have been the way they looked up when I asked what they were doing, nudging toward the book they were shoving into their bag.
“I’ve just finished rereading,” Y/N had said, eyes bright, attempting to tuck the smile back into their lips.
It wasn’t hard to notice the quick change of demeanour when I asked them what it was about, like it was singlehandedly the only question they’ve ever wanted to answer, but never got the chance. It’s quite funny isn’t it, talking about something you really love. The attempt to encapsulate the most important bits to make it sound as interesting to the person you’re talking to as it is to you. Despite the fact most of the speech was incoherent, I was nonetheless engaged, as I always was.
“Would you like to borrow it?”
And because every single little thing they asked me, happened to be my kryptonite, I obliged.
i’ve been thinking about these two ideas for a while and i want to know which one you guys find more interesting or you can send me suggestions of how to spice these up. messages are greatly appreciated :)))
1) reader shows up to spencer’s apartment with alphabet placards (like the one’s from the library) that they got from a garage sale/thrift store thinking they could alphabetize his bookshelves. spencer knew where everything was placed and didn’t have a need for them, but did it anyway just because he wanted to spend time with them.
2) reader lends spencer a book and he doesn’t find it remotely interesting but agrees to read it just because they looked so excited. he ends up disliking it and doesn’t want to tell them because he doesn’t want to make them feel bad. (bonus points if there’s a movie adaptation and they try to convince him to watch the movie) i’m still working on this idea and need help lol
let me know if you want to see any of these … please??
reblogging to put at the top of my tl and for some feedback?? maybe??
Summary: Spencer comes home to his partner and finds them still asleep. Request: Spencer comes home late from work and the reader is already asleep and Spencer just admires how beautiful they are and cuddles with them? - A/N: Just an excuse for Spencer to pontificate about his lover. Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Fluff Content Warning: None Word Count: 675
What did it mean to appreciate the quiet? Spencer had never been sure. After all, the silence was something so rare that he wasn’t convinced he’d ever experienced it before. Even at night, he would find himself humming along with the soft sounds of the fridge, the television, the lamp.
He had never found any need to be quiet because there was always something else to be heard. There was always a page to be turned, a floorboard to creak, or a yawn to be had.
But that night as he opens the door to your home, the clicking of the lock seems deafening compared to the peaceful serenity on the other side of sturdy wood. He hears the stark contrast of him and home, and he pulls his luggage closer to be sure that it would not disrupt the calm.
He tries to remember each creaky floorboard on his way to you. He plans his movements carefully, ensuring he is as silent as his shadow as he creeps through your halls without a peep. With a lightness to his fingertips and toes, he pushes the door to your shared bedroom open. He holds his breath as the sight comes into view. He watches, as silently and carefully as he’d come.
Your arms lay in front of you, reaching to the empty space where he should be. He notices the way you offer your palms to the nothingness without fear of what they’ll find. He sees the slow, steady rise and fall of your chest as you sleep and he finds an appreciation in the quiet.
As he steps closer, he curses the world for not being quiet enough to let you rest the way you deserve. He hates the weight of his own footfall, even though it doesn’t appear to wake you.
He knows in that moment that what he had to offer would never be enough. But still, he has to try. He has to strip the layers of rustling fabric as quietly as possible, all the while straining to keep his eyes on your sleeping figure. You would be fine without him keeping watch over your dreamland, but he does it, anyway.
Because there is something about the way that you sleep. It is the way your arms, though notably smaller than the walls surrounding you, still offer him a home. The soft curves of your body remind him of his childhood, of when he’d admired the mountaintops off in the distance. His fingers would follow every peak, every fall. He longs to touch you, too, but he decides that his memory would have to do for now.
For now, he would just watch you. Spencer would soak in the wonder that was your most innocent state.
And your eyes, albeit closed, reassure him that there is something beautiful to be found in the absence of your voice. The same way that you are beautiful when you are awake. That breathtaking type of wonder, that absolute impossibility that is each imperfection. Every freckle, wrinkle, or crease carved by something greater than any scientist could ever hope to comprehend.
He hopes that he will never understand, that he will never grow tired of seeing how you change. He wants to memorize every iteration of you that he has the privilege to witness.
Despite having loved you for eternity, he falls in love with you again. But Spencer fights the urge to fall to his knees before you. Instead, he climbs into the sheets and is amazed to find that you still do not wake. Instead, your lips curve into a small smile.
Glassy eyes follow that shift, they flow down your figure until they land on your hands. Your hands that are still reaching out to him in the darkness, palm open and hoping, even when you are asleep.
Your hands reach for him in the darkness without fear of what the future holds, because you know that he would take your hand.
The numbers on the calendar were marked with a red circle, and the colour haunted the young woman in her dreams. Letters were blurring. The sentences no longer made sense, but Y/N kept going, knowing she couldn’t close the books and her eyes to find a moment of peace.
Her eyes had seen blood and tears, wounded people, but for the first time in years, she felt like a young student about to take her big exam. She knew exactly why she had chosen to continue her studies as a psychologist, but now she regretted choosing this path of hundreds of obstacles. She wished to shut the books, hide them away and never think of her failure again, but she did not do it. Her palms were wet and the tears running down her cheeks were reminiscent of a waterfall and leaping rivers travelling across the steel face of a mountain.
“I feel like an idiot. How can it be?” Y/N breathed, unable to understand why the words no longer made sense.
Books lay scattered on the floor around Y/N wrapped in a greenish fluffy blanket, trying in vain to get the contents of the books into her head, but after hours of intense studying, Y/N was shocked she still knew her name. Tears were welling again in her eyes, realised she had failed miserably.
Deep in thoughts, Y/N didn’t hear the footsteps echoing across the small and lovely decorated home. Angrily, Y/N ran her fingers through her hair, destroying the bun resting loosely on the back of her head, falling further and further down with each passing moment. Her eyes slid over the rows of words forming sentences, but then she exhaled loudly as she realised, she had read the words but could remember none of them underlined with a reddish line. Her right hand reached for the dotted cup at the side of the bed two steps away from her and brought it to her lips. A questioning expression painted her eyes. Frowning, Y/N realised she had emptied the cup. The lavender-scented tea was gone, as well as the claimed calming effect, and Y/N could no longer smell or taste lavender or chamomile and put the cup back on the side.
Suddenly the wood creaked.
“Do you need help, my love?” a voice spoke.
A loud curse wanted to overtake her lips. Her hand settled on her heart and exhaled in relief as she caught sight of her boyfriend with a slight smile on his troubled features. Spencer leaned against the frame of the door and folded his arms in front of his torso, staring down at his girlfriend drowning in a sea of books, not understanding anything anymore, wanting to lie down and wake up when the end of the world was around the corner. He hated to see her like this, saw sadness, hatred and anger in her eyes and the only thing Spencer wanted to do was to embrace her and let his girlfriend know everything was going to be alright again.
Y/N gave her boyfriend a weak smile and let her shoulders fall forward, feeling the heavy burden seeming to grow heavier and heavier resting on her body. Spencer pushed himself off the doorframe, took three long strides and settled on the floor a few steps away from her, scrutinising the open books spread out on the floor in no particular pattern.
“I don’t think you could even help me with this, Spence. I really don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve been trying to figure this out for two days.” she laughed. “See. I don’t even know what I’m trying to get into my head.” Y/N continued.
Y/N hid her face in her palms, wanting to make it impossible for Spencer to see the tears threatening to cross the borders. She tried to stay strong, but Spencer didn’t miss it, seeing the sadness in her gaze. Y/N brushed the tears gracing her cheeks with the back of her hand away and gulped.
“Can you show me what you are trying to understand? Maybe I won’t be able to understand it either. It must surely be hard if you can’t understand it. You are smart my love.” he breathed.
Spencer placed the three books in front of him on the side after he had shut them and slid closer to the love of his life.
“Look at me. I don’t understand everything, and it takes me a few minutes to understand something. Do you remember the case I told you about when you were sick? It took me a week to understand that the man had told me a false story.” Spencer let his girlfriend know in a calming tone.
He tried to cheer her up, but Y/N just gave a dry laugh, knowing full well that Spencer was trying to take the pain off her soul, trying to let her know she was smart, that she didn’t have to worry about it anymore.
“I have a better idea. It’s getting late my love.”, “No Spence,” Y/N interjected, knowing what Spencer was getting at, but she couldn’t stop, knowing she had to pass the tests to get her degree.
“Yes, it is, it’s after eight and after a certain time you shouldn’t bother with such things. Tomorrow I will take a day off from work and together we will try to understand this. It is a lot.” he whispered.
Spencer crawled towards her and settled at her side. His hands rested on her tense shoulders. A soft sound crossed her lips, feeling her aching muscles turn to molten gold, the weight fading away from her shoulders, and Spencer knew it would take a brief moment before Y/N would listen to him.
“I’ll make us some tea. What do you think of that, my dear? A full tub of hot water, some excellent wine and I can massage your feet. I am sure they must hurt a lot. I’ll order us dinner. What do you think about pasta, pizza or a salad? We also have ice cream in the fridge. We will lie down on the sofa, eat and watch a film or the series you were talking about at breakfast. It will do us good.” hatched Spencer in a whispering tone.
No reply crossed her lips. Y/N wanted to protest, to let him know she had to finish the chapter she had started, that she could not stop yet, but the words did not pass as his fingers slipped under the material of the T-shirt and began to release the knots on her back. A low moan escaped her. She tilted her head back, feeling her muscles turn to butter and the anxiety and worry disappearing from her body and mind. A slight grin spread across his face. Spencer knew the answer to the question he had asked, knew exactly how she would answer, and got the confirmation he needed when Y/N nodded her head in affirmation.
Spencer Reid had read enough books to know what needed to be done, knew the local library like the back of his hand, but after receiving the golden message that his girlfriend is pregnant, he refreshed his knowledge of pregnancies.
Nervously, the tall man paced the flat. His face was troubled and sweat danced down his spine. He strode up and down. The stuffed bag was on the side of the door next to the prepared slippers for his girlfriend. Spencer had already slipped into his sneakers at five o'clock in the early morning, was ready and had not closed his eyes after he heard the hisses and curses escaping Y/N in low tones.
Spencer saw the sharp pain running through her body but Y/N waved him off, listened to him, but the pain wasn’t long lasting, only for a few moments, not even ten seconds. His trembling fingers ran through his unmade hair and kept looking towards his girlfriend, who was sitting calmly in a serene mood in the middle of the sofa, lovingly stroking her belly. Smiling, Y/N looked up and spotted Spencer standing by the door. Calmly with fear coating his face he was waiting for his girlfriend to finally understand that the pains coming and going in waves were no longer Braxton Hicks but contractions.
“I’m taking you to the hospital now.” his firm voice broke the silence.
“They’re just Braxton Hicks. I still have two weeks, almost three, to go. It’s a false alarm. Little Reid here wants to have a little fun with us. He’s just testing you. Let’s have some breakfast and enjoy the morning.” Y/N responded calmly.
“You are in the early stages of labour, my love. You should eat a small snack and stay hydrated. No pancakes or a piece of cake with extra whipped cream.” Spencer recited what he had read, knowing exactly what was written in the book on the fifteenth page of the second chapter.
“Spence, I am hungry. I am starving. How can you be sure I’m already in labour? I’m fine. Little Reid is just kicking me a little too hard, but he will surely stop, and if he doesn’t, then you need to have a very serious talk with him. Spence, my love, come to me, caress my tummy and tell me it’s going to be okay. That’s all I need right now. I know you’re worried. I really understand, but please stop.” Y/N breathed exhausted.
Spencer laid his eyes on his girlfriend, saw the pain she was trying to hide, but Spencer saw it clearly. Y/N couldn’t hide anything from her boyfriend. The genius clasped the bag he had packed, placed it on the table and turned to the kitchen. Exhaling loudly, he took two chocolate bars with frozen strawberries followed by a pack of washed blueberries and walked with the snacks towards his girlfriend seated on the sofa with her aching legs resting on the table. Fatigue had settled on her face but she could no longer close her eyes.
“Spence, come to me and rest. Let’s watch a movie. You have been up for more than seven hours. It can’t be contractions and you’re making me nervous. We will wait a few hours and if it doesn’t get better then you can take me to the hospital.” Y/N exhaustedly breathed.
Y/N longed for a moment of peace, wanting to close her eyes and fall asleep. Spencer nodded as he strolled towards the sofa. He was aware he wasn’t able to get his very pregnant girlfriend into the vehicle he had prepared and take her to the nearest hospital to see a doctor.
“Agreed? Trust me, if it gets worse, I will let you know. You don’t have to fear Spence. Everything is okay.” Y/N laughed. “And then you will hold my hand and take me to the hospital.” Y/N continued.
No fear filled her as Y/N thought about the birth, but she didn’t take it lightly, knowing how painful the birth of a child was, having heard countless of stories from her friends, but the difference between them and her was that she had Spencer by her side who would keep the promises he had made, knew her boyfriend would be the best father under the sun.
"Do you have a name in mind, Y/N?” Spencer switched the subject.
Smiling, Spencer handed her the snacks and gratefully Y/N accepted them, opened the snack bar and took a big bite.
“No, still not. I’m sure that when we see our little Reid, we will know what his name will be. We’ll see him and we’ll both say a name at the same time. Spence, what do you want to say me? I understand you, but I’d rather sit here on the couch and watch a movie until my water breaks or the contractions start than in an overheated, bad-smelling hospital room.” Y/N said.
“That’s a good idea. And you don’t have to worry about that, I’ve booked us a private room. You’ll have your own fridge, TV and air conditioning. Don’t you want to at least get changed? My biggest fear is that you will give birth in the car.”, “But I’m sure you’d make a good obstetrician. I’m sure you would. I love you, so I’m going to change, you’re going to eat something and make yourself a cup of coffee in the meantime and enjoy a moment of peace.” Y/N interjected.
Spencer crossed his arms in front of his chest, hadn’t sat down by her side, was prepared, and even the car key was in his back pocket.
“Okay.” Spencer conceded afterwards.
Lovingly, his hands settled on her body and Spencer helped his girlfriend up, placing his hand on her back and leading her away from the sofa and escorting her to the kitchen. Lovely words escaped his words and Y/N smiled, forgetting the pain wandering across her body. A faint grin spread on his lips as he saw her gait reminding him of a penguin walking through high snow, he didn’t want to smile but he couldn’t help it. Spencer took a sip of the already cold liquid in the white cup before placing it on the kitchen island. His heart ached all at once. He looked up, almost tripping over his own feet, and ran through the short hallway swifter than the wind and jumped through the door.
“Y/N?” he nearly screamed.
Questioningly, Spencer glanced up at his girlfriend, but then he saw the wetness travelling down her bare legs. His lips were no longer touching. Her face was troubled, filled with pain.
“I think you were right after all Spence. They were contractions and they are getting a little worse. I’m sorry.” Y/N whispered.
“You have nothing to apologise for, my love. Nothing can happen to the baby now, but I think it would be better if your doctor will check on you and the baby, it may take a few more hours but if you say the pain is getting worse it would be better if we get on our way.” Spencer breathed lovingly.
The knowledge he had gained over long months returned, knowing exactly what to do.
“I’ll put a dress on you. After that, we will drive to the hospital. I’ve already packed your bag, and the car is ready too. You have to worry about nothing. I will hold your hand as promised. You will be a great mother Y/N.” no other words, telling her he was right after all didn’t escape the man.
Spencer came to a halt directly in front of his girlfriend. His eyes let her know she had nothing to be afraid of. Gently his hands rested on her body and breathed a loving kiss on her lips while his right hand rested on her stomach.
A reddish veil settled on the faces. The blanket slid down his chest, revealing his well-defined muscles adorned with reddish claw lines. Gracefully, his fingers slid over her skin. Guilt spread through Spencer, seeing the marks his nails had left over her body, kissed by the rays of the sun streaming through the narrow gap of the long curtains.
Spencer´s gaze slid from the dancing dust particles illuminated by the sun to his girlfriend, who had fallen asleep in his arms and did not appear to wake in the next few moments. Spencer was unable to take his eyes away from his beloved, running his gaze over the shape of her beautiful body. Blissfully, he smiled and again he was wondering what he had done to deserve Y/N. For a long time, the genius was planning to take Y/N as his wife, had bought a ring a few weeks ago but the blue velvet box was well hidden and the question didn’t make it past his lips.
Blue marks adorned her flesh, not covered by the quilt. Spencer did not wake his girlfriend, enjoying the moment of peace, laughing low and closing his eyes in pleasure. Suddenly he realised today was his day off and decided after not a moment’s thought to spend the whole day in bed, only getting out of bed if he had to. He didn’t wake her up. Sliding closer to his girlfriend, the grin on his features kissed by the rays of the rising sun grew wider, knew it was Y/N´s day off too.
The young couple had decided a few months ago to have at least four days off a month to spend more quality time together, and Spencer longed for more days filled with love and dates mirroring the first dates at lovely restaurants and bistros. Even if the couple spend whole days together at work, both longed for moments of peace, not for pictures causing nightmares, making it almost impossible to close the eyes. It was Y/N who suffered greatly if the cases turned and twisted like the limbs of a fallen man but on those nights, Spencer was always by her side, listening and helping by his mere presence.
The sun’s rays kissed his bare chest as he moved, finding a comfortable position and leaned against the wood so he could be closer to the love of his life. Spencer loved her like the first day, loved her from the deepest depths of his heart, and couldn’t think of a better girlfriend than Y/N.
His roughened fingertips slid over her forehead again, brushed the strands of hair away, and whispered words of love and adoration into her ear. Her eyelids twitched and through narrowed eyes, Y/N looked up at Spencer. Her face contorted into a grimace, but then a slight smile spread across her lips, gazing into the eyes surveying her lovingly. Y/N chuckled as his hand cupped her cheek. They lost each other in their gazes, looked at each other enamoured. Y/N raised her right hand and stroked his cheek with her thumb, feeling the slight growth of his beard under her touch, feeling the bumps, and smiled.
“Good morning, my love.” Y/N breathed, losing herself in her lover’s eyes as he continued with his loving touches.
“Good morning. Do you know what day it is today, my darling?” asked Spencer joyfully.
Questioningly, Y/N looked at her long-haired boyfriend. Her brows almost touched, and a question wanted to cross her lips, but before the first syllable, the first word could cross Y/N realised what day it was. The smile softened and turned into a wide grin.
“What do you say we go to the mountains today? We can hike. I heard the park there is nice, and I heard you talking about it with JJ. She visited it last week. Or we could do some work in the garden.” Y/N breathed sleepily.
No answer escaped Spencer who shook his head in response.
“Why not?”, “We can just stay here in bed. We can sit in the garden and lie under the tree and enjoy the day. No cleaning nor working. I’ll buy some takeout, ice cream and other sweets at the supermarket,” Spencer explained in a joyful tone.
His voice was rough. A sudden shiver ran down her spine, remembering his words of adoration, telling her how much he loves her, how much he is longing for her touch, craving her closeness. Y/N wanted to get up from the bed but a soft whine crossed her lips. Spencer’s eyes widened, looked questioningly down at his girlfriend, searching for wounds, wanting to understand what had happened, but couldn’t find the answer, didn’t see any open wounds adorning her skin and suddenly he saw the answer. The blanket had slipped down her frame and bruises radiated all over her body from her neck to her stomach in one trail.
“I’m sorry, my dove. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Do you need something? Are you in pain?” Spencer whispered.
No traces of mild pain graced her face, had enjoyed the night to the fullest. Amused, Y/N peered up at her lover. Her glance rested on his throat and spotted the scratches she had left on his flesh. Y/N sank her teeth into her lower lip.
“Spencer, you certainly didn’t hurt me, you could never hurt me.” Y/N immediately interjected. “And you should take a closer look at yourself. Blue suits you well.” Y/N joked amused.
Y/N quickly rose from the bed, pushed herself off of the pillow and let her hands rest on his cheek, brushed away the traces of fear and distress and let Spencer wordlessly know she was fine and feeling no pain. The next gust carried the clouds away. Spencer leaned forward, rested his hands on her hers and breathed a loving kiss on her lips.
i’ve been wanting to get my writing juices going but couldn’t commit to a whole chapter so here’s this little blurb inspired by Harry’sLate Night Talking
here’s my first attempt at writing in second person (i dont think i love it)
Spencer drew in a deep breath and exhaled it through his lips exasperatedly. The open book lay flat against his chest as he lounged on his chaise longue. The view of the stars was incredible, he couldn’t help but feel insignificant. His apartment wasn’t the best in town, but a major plus side was access to the roof. And of course, you.
“What’s going on?” You look up from your phone screen, turning on your side on your own chaise longue to face him.
“Have you ever wanted to disappear? To feel invisible?” He stays staring up at the twinkling lights against the navy blanket that was the sky, giving you a fantastic view of his sharp jawline.
“Yeah, all the time.” You say around a yawn, locking your phone screen but not before seeing that it was currently 2:22 AM. Spencer has been a night owl since you met him, since he moved in to his apartment, really. And damn your sleep schedule if you could spare a few hours for this man. You’d do anything for him, but you’re not sure if he knows it yet.
He lets the question hang in the air. You know if he wanted to elaborate, he would.
“Do you think it’s possible to end world hunger?” You spoke your random thoughts out loud.
He scoffs a laugh, “Wow, starting off with the deep questions, are we?”
You giggle and shrug, “Just wanted to know a genius’s take on it.”
The word genius chipped away at his smile, he didn’t want to be the genius around you, he just wanted to be himself. Most of the time he was, he could understand the need to ask philosophical, existential questions past 1 AM, too.
“I don’t know.” He says thoughtfully after a few seconds. He really didn’t. Theoretically, yes, we could end world hunger, but he isn’t sure if the people in charge actually want that. If they did, it would have been over by now.
“What if…and stay with me here, what if each and every person with more than one dollar donates exactly one dollar? We would have at least 5 billion dollars, that amount could end world hunger right?” You ask into the air. He looks at you like you’re starting to lose the battle to sleep and delirium.
“I mean, sure?” He laughs and shrugs, “I wish it was that easy.”
“It should be…” You say, twiddling with a stray piece of string from the fabric of the cushioning beneath you, eyes feeling heavier and heavier.
He stares at you fondly as you slip into slumber on your shared roof.
A/N: low-key thought about that moment in 4x02 where Emily pokes his cheek when I wrote this… it’s not the same, but I still thought about it…so, now you know that.
This was exactly like seeing a very obvious piece of lint on someone’s sleeve, or like if a picture frame was hanging just ever so slightly crocked.
Reid had an eyelash stuck on his cheek.
He was currently occupied reading a book, as he always was on the jet, but all you could do was sit and stare at it.
Like a reflex, you couldn’t control it, you reached out a finger and softly swiped it off. Effectively shaking him out of his trance, he looked up at you, confused.
Your eyes widened at the realisation of what you’d just done, “oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t, um…. You had an eyelash,” holding your finger up so he could see.
“Oh, okay,” he blinked.
Oh, what the hell, you might as well, “do you wanna make a wish?”
A smile crept up on his face, “you know, blowing away an eyelash used to be thought of as a way to protect yourself against the devil.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, people thought that he collected human hairs in order to gain more power, and so the act of blowing an eyelash away was seen as a way to shoo away the devil,” he nodded.
You looked down at the small hair on your pointer finger and then up at him again. After a moment of strangely intimate eye contact, he leaned forward and blew it away.
“Hah, no hair for you, devil!” you exclaimed maybe a bit too loud, catching the attention of the others, “no hair for you!”
Reid didn’t say anything, just sat there, chuckling lightly.
“So, are you gonna tell me what you wished for?” you asked, ignoring JJ’s glare. Apparently, she was trying to fall asleep.
“No, because I actually want this one to come true,” he said almost dreamily.
It’s beneficial for others, but usually ends up hurting you
A/N: yeah, this was kinda just me processing something… that was an interesting day, and by interesting I mean incredibly uncomfortable and ruined the rest of my week. Cool.
Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, struggles with having hyper empathy
“Hey,” you heard, making you peek your eyes open to see Spencer hovering over you.
Letting out a small hum in response, you tried to give him a small smile.
Kneeling down next to your vertical position on the couch, he rested his chin on your arm.
“How long have you been laying here?”
“I don’t know,” you whispered, staring firmly at the corner of the ceiling.
You felt one of his fingers hook around one of your cold ones, “did something happen?”
“No,” you automatically said, “or well, maybe? I don’t know… I’m fine, really, it was nothing.”
“I think your body disagrees with you there… you’re shaking.”
“Yeah, I know, and my pulse is all funky and my circulation is weird,” lifting up your left hand to look, “see, it looks like I have blue nail polish on. I’m okay, my head is fine, my body’s just not on the same page about how I should react, that’s all, I’m just waiting it out.”
“Are you sure that your body is the one that’s not reacting logically?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened?”
“It was nothing, just had a convocation with someone who has polar opposite views on some things, and they sometimes hurt me… not intentionally, of course, and I don’t try to make them change their mind, we’re all different and that’s beautiful, but I just tried to make them understand that what they said hurt me and they just couldn’t see it. And I think because I understand them, and where they were coming from, I don’t feel like I can be mad at them. They’re my friend, just because they have opinions that hurt me doesn’t mean I can make them out to be the bad guy.”
“So, you make yourself the bad guy just to what, potentially save a friendship? Avoid conflict?”
Yeah, he was right, as usual. Squeezing your eyes shut for a moment, you sighed, “urgh, hyper empathy sucks. I wish I could just be mad and that’s it, but no, I have to understand, empathise, and then I feel bad for them and feel like I can’t just be angry with them. It complicates everything,” zoning out for a moment, you revealed, “you know, a lot of bad things have happened to me in my life, a lot of bad people have hurt me, but my first instinct is never to be angry, it takes me years to just be plain mad at them. I have to fight tooth and nail to discard the compassion and simply be angry.”
“Being hyper empathetic is like a superpower. It’s beneficial for others, but usually ends up hurting you,” he grabbed a hold of your hand, trying his best to transfer you some of his warmth, “and you just take it because that’s what you’re used to.”
Peeking over at him, you took a deep breath and let his words sink in.
Squinting, keeping a close eye on what exactly you were doing with the knitting needles, he breathed out, his tone, unfortunately, making it sound like a question, “I think I’ve got it.”
Handing him the small woollen patch you’d begun for him and slowly used to demonstrate, over a few rows, how it was done.
Watching him with a small smile as he timidly began to knit, you held onto the ball of yarn, gradually unspooling more for him as he needed it. Good thing it wasn’t a sweater and just a simple scarf that he wanted to knit for his first time. He wasn’t doing badly per se, but this was his first time after all.
Taking your eyes off of his fingers, looking down at the ball of yarn in your lap, you asked him quietly, “can I ask you something?”
Completely wrapped up in the fear of dropping a stitch, he just hummed.
“Why didn’t you ask Garcia to teach you how to knit? I mean, everyone knows that she can knit, I didn’t even know you were aware of the fact that I also have that skill…” glancing up at him, “and isn’t she the one going to that convention with you?”
Your question had halted his movements, but his eyes didn’t lift to meet yours. “I, um… a few weeks ago, on the plane, you asked me to get a pen out of your bag and I saw, crammed in there, the thing you were knitting. It had this beautiful criss crossy textured pattern on it…” lowering the needles, he met your gaze, “and you’re right, I could have asked Garcia, she would have probably been happy to teach me, but I didn’t. I asked you.”
Seeing his eyes briefly flicker down towards your lips, he then turned back to his work, slowly, one by one, made the project grow.
A/N: this is such a neurodivergent thing to do! I’ve done it for as long as I can remember, still do it. If I could give all of you a nice rock to have in your pocket, I would.
Warnings: fluff, rocks, talk of otters and penguins
You slowly rolled your chair closer to his desk, sneaking up on him, not wanting to disturb his paperwork.
Thinking he hadn’t noticed you yet, you carefully placed a small, grey rock on the edge of his table.
“Hi, what’s up?” he asked, not taking his eyes away from his work.
Freezing in place, “oh, hey!”
Looking down at you with a small smile, “what’s this?”
Straightening up, you let go of the stone and answered nervously, “I was on a walk this morning, as usual, and I found this rock… well, I actually filed both of my pockets with rocks and pebbles, but this one was the best one, so I wanted you to have it.”
Picking it up, he turned it over in his hand, “what makes it the best one?”
“The shape and texture. It’s nice to hold,” glancing down, you blushed lightly, “I just wanted you to have something nice to hold.”
“Thank you,” he said quietly, sounding genuine, which only made your flush that much darker.
Fiddling with it for a while, he blurted out, “did you know that otters have a favourite rock?”
You looked up to see that he was already staring at you, “um, no, I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, and penguins, when they fall in love, one of them will go find the perfect rock for their partner and go lay it in front of them, and if they accept, they’re married.”
Your eyes widened at the connection, “oh.”
Seeing the panic wash over your features, he assured you quickly, almost stumbling over his words, “just to make it clear, I didn’t think you were proposing to me just now.”
“Oh,” you echoed, looking down again.
After a few moments, you heard his voice once more, “isn’t one of the spots you go for a walk in the park that’s close to where I live?”
“The one with the swings? Yeah, I do go there most days, it’s nice and quiet.”
Biting his lip, he hesitated ever so slightly, “can I go with you someday?”
