#dad Spencer
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halamet-chalamet · 1 year ago
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This is a masterpiece
Omg wait these blurbs got me feral for dad Spencer!!! I need one with Spencer and the first time his toddler throws a tantrum or misbehaves
Spencer always insists on doing naptime and bedtime when he's home. It's his chance to read to Matilda, which she loves since she can hold the book because he knows all the words.
Today is no different, except for the fact she's very overtired after spending the day walking around the museum.
Since she was born, you've always been alert to her crying, like the natural instinct, so when you hear her screaming her lungs out, you jump off the couch and rush to her room.
She's standing by the bookshelf, half a dozen books thrown on the floor while she has red cheeks and heavy tears flowing out of her eyes. She's crying inconsolably like something's dramatically wrong in her 2-year-old world.
Spencer holds his hands up in confusion when you enter, clearly also having no clue what was going on.
He squats down next to her. "Sweet girl, what's going on?"
"I can't-" She sobs, hyperventilating. You'd rush in to help, but he's got it handled.
He takes the book out of her hand, placing it gently onto the bookshelf. The books laying on the floor so carelessly are probably killing him, but Matilda's the only thing that's important. "What's wrong? You can tell me. I'll fix it."
"Daddy!" She cries, crossing her arms over her chest. "I can't read!"99
"That's okay." He assures her, brushing her hair out of the way and trying to get her to calm down. You struggling to fight off a laugh, of course, it's upsetting to see her crying, but crying over not being able to read? It's mildly amusing. "I can teach you." He offers.
Her eyes widen. "Really?"
"Yeah. Lay in bed, and I'll tell you the words to the book." In other words, he'll read it to her. "Pinky promise." He assures her, holding out his pinky finger.
She locks her much smaller one with his, smiling and completely forgetting about the meltdown she just had. "Please."
Spencer opens his arms, waiting for her to put her arms around his neck before easily picking her up and setting her back down in bed. He opens up the book, pointing to the first word and clearing his throat before he starts reading.
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jellyfishsthings · 4 months ago
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Spencer Reid Masterlist:
Guide: Smut ●, Angst ☆, Fluff <3
Kissing in the office <3 by @reidalert
Sleepy Needy Spence ● by @nereidprinc3ss
Work call during the act ● by @nevvdrinksteaa
Pregnancy Announcement (sort of) , vol.2 <3
by @pathologicalreid
"I'm not sleeping with Reid" ● by @incognit0slut
Headcannons <3 by @rafesgfs
Well-kept secret ☆ < 3 by @astrophileous
Work place environment by @nereidprinc3ss
Glasses <3, vol. 2 <3 , vol.3 ● by @luveline, @atlabeth and @raekensluver
Falling asleep on his shoulder, vol.2 <3
by @inkdrinkerworld and @bklynsboys
Please don't have somebody waiting for you <3
by @cerisereids
Being a menace, vol.2 <3 (tho it is suggestive kinda) by @in-another-april and @incognit0slut
Comforting him <3 by @little-miss-dilf-lover
Sleep Deprivation <3 by @faunalune
I love this too much ● by @reiderwriter
Sneaking around ● by @nereidprinc3ss
First Time ● by @luveline
Between the books ● by @reidmotif
Whiny and Spoiled ● by @nereidprinc3ss
Hyper Independent <3 by @inkdrinkerworld
New haircut <3 by @inkdrinkerworld
Waking up with kisses <3 by @secretlovezz
No vacancy <3 @kiss-inthekitchen
Reuniting after prison (Hotch!reader) ☆<3
by @pathologicalreid
Being a munch ● by @lis-likes-fics
Me while watching CM ● by @an1t4k
High Heels <3 by @guiltyasreid
Decoy ● by @violetrainbow412-blog
Tech analyst reader <3 by @moonstruckme
Mixed Messages (series) by @easy-there-leftovers
Addicted to you ● @spencerreidenjoyer
Drunk confessions <3 by @nereidprinc3ss
Proposals <3 by @reidmania
Plastic Hearts (Gideon!reader) ☆ by @atlabeth
I might be in love (Prentiss!reader)
by @januaryembrs
This hurts but in a good way ☆
by @aliteralsemicolon
Heavenly sweet ● by @reidsfilm
His hands, vol.2 ● by @raekensluver and @t1red-twillight
Coming home late <3 by @fairysongs
Soft Intimacy <3 by @t1red-twilight
Missed Lunches (Gideon!reader)☆
by @mindfullycriminal
Grounded (Hotch!reader) <3 by @rreids
His kisses <3 ● by @inkdrinkerworld
50 shades <3 by @rumplereids
Dad!Spence:
Paternity leave <3 by @radiant-reid
Mini Doctor <3 by @reidsdaisies
Hard to say no <3 by @radiant-reid
Lamby goes to work <3 by @cerisereids
Everything in the world <3 by @lis-likes-fics
Daddy's girl <3 by @midniteluv
Toddlerus Interruptus <3 by @reid-fiction
Midnight Scaries <3 by @reid-fiction
Early labor <3 by @rumplereids
Other Masterlists:
Masterlist 1 by @pathologicalreid
Masterlist 2 by @radiant-reid
Masterlist 3 by @slowburningechoes
Note: sorry some of the tags may not work my Tumblr is acting up, also a Spencer Reid fic should be posted sometime soon
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ginaonline · 5 months ago
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I'm sensing... I'm sensing that you're a little bitch. The spirits recommend that you shut the fuck up.
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spencerstargirl · 6 months ago
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Just Spencer Reid spinning in his chair roughly 11 years apart
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01x01
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12x04
Bonus: Gideon looking dead inside while Spencer keeps spinning in the background
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grinchwrapsupreme · 4 months ago
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shawn's deep trust of lassiter keeps catching me so off-guard like when he's held captive and lassie and henry both turn up he tries to yell "carlton" not "dad" and when he sees a guy with a gun come into the restaurant he goes straight for lassie and keeps trying to get his attention instead of literally any of the other dozens of cops in the room with them and when he's telling someone to call the police he tells them to ask for lassiter, not jules, not vick, lassiter. like he spends all his time provoking lassie but the second there's danger there's literally no one else he trusts more
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loosethreadsofyoursoul · 4 months ago
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one thing about shawn spencer is he’s going to square up for the underdog. the lawyer in cloudy with a chance of murder. the bank robber in gus walks into a bank. lying ryan in truer lies. even lassiter in lassie did a bad bad thing. he will take one look at a pathetic little man and say “is anyone going to stand in front of him and protect him from evil and prove he is telling the truth despite the odds being against him?” and then not wait for an answer. you go girl, you project those self esteem issues like the king that you are 😔✊
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pathologicalreid · 5 months ago
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hotchner!reader (hotch’s daughter) who’s married/dating Spencer, and then telling her dad she’s pregnant, lots of fluff please!! :)<3
goads and goats | S.R.
telling your dad (who is also your boss) you're having a baby ends in him giving spencer a hard time
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: accidental pregnancy, missed period, hotchner!reader, pregnant!reader, not proofread, dad!hotch, established relationship word count: 1.01k a/n: i have been so down and out about writing recently but i had so much fun writing this. i firmly believe that if spencer was dating hotch's daughter hotch would never let that man have a moment of peace.
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“He’s going to throttle me,” your boyfriend announced mournfully, holding the door open for you to enter headquarters, the two of you flashing your badges at security before passing through the metal detectors together.
Rolling your eyes, you reached your hand out and nearly dragged him into the elevator with you. He had been digging his heels in the mud all morning, even going so far as to propose playing hooky, which you were fairly certain he had never done in the history of ever. “He is not going to throttle you. I mean, just imagine the HR implications,” you gently chastised, watching Spencer as he leaned against the wall of the elevator. “Hey,” you said, standing in front of him, you placed a hand on his chest, “We don’t have to tell him today, you know. It could be our little secret for a while.”
Quicker than you expected, Spencer shook his head, “Of course, we have to tell him today. What would happen if you got sent out into the field?” He self-consciously readjusted the strap of his shoulder bag before looking up to watch the floor numbers rise as the elevator went up, “If we didn’t tell him because of my own reservations and then something happened to you, it’d… I’d…”
Your chest clenched as his voice trailed off and you thought of the positive pregnancy tests that were still sitting on your bathroom counter. The tiny wad of cells that had been settling in your womb for weeks without your knowledge – until Spencer asked if you needed pads while you had been grocery shopping – was already so loved.
The first test had come back with such a faint line that you convinced yourself it was just a shadow of an indent on the fragile plastic, but the test you took this morning had been glaringly positive. Slowly, you reached out and took Spencer’s hand, intertwining your fingers as the door to the elevator opened and the two of you stepped out together, “Nothing’s going to happen to me, okay?”
Taking a deep breath, he nodded while holding the glass door to the bullpen open for you, glancing up, you saw that your dad’s office door was open. As soon as you set your things at your desk, you looked at Spencer, nodding up the steps, figuring it was better to do this now than wait.
By Spencer’s math, you were approximately five weeks pregnant, much earlier than people usually elect to share their news. Still, both of you immediately decided it was in your best interest to let your dad know right away.
Leading the way, you knocked on the heavy wooden door to get his attention, his head snapped up in the direction of the noise, shoulders relaxing slightly when he saw it was you, likely having thought a case was being brought in. “Do you have a second?” You asked softly, nerves creeping up as your father waved the both of you in.
“For you, of course,” he responded, nodding at Spencer in acknowledgment before watching suspiciously as the two of you sat in the chairs in front of his desk. “What’s wrong?” He asked, watching you fold and unfold your hands in your lap, it didn’t help that Spencer looked like he had been called into the principal’s office.
You shook your head, “Nothing’s wrong, Dad. We just needed to have a chat,” you told him.
Frowning, his curiosity deepened, “A chat?” Hotch questioned the word that wasn’t a frequent flyer in your lexicon.
“A talk?” You tried again meekly, knowing that he’d start making his own conclusions if you didn’t say something soon.
He looked over at your boyfriend, “If it’s just a talk then why is Reid avoiding eye contact?”
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you exhaled heavily, “We should’ve waited,” you muttered to no one in particular.
“Waited for what, exactly? You’re not splitting up, are you?” He inquired, likely developing a list of forms that would need to be filled out if the two of you had in fact broken up.
You waved your hand aimlessly in the air. It seemed that neither of you had fully understood how hard it would be to announce your accidental pregnancy to your father and your boss simultaneously.
Since neither of you spoke, your father continued, “I’m obligated to side with my daughter. Which isn’t solely based on my belief that she can do no wrong, but if-“
“I’m pregnant,” you blurted, clamping your hand over your mouth as if you could recapture the words that had flown from your lips.
What followed was the silence that you had dreaded. Weren’t people supposed to jump for joy in situations like this? However, the moment Hotch jumped for joy for anything would likely end in someone being institutionalized.
Slowly, you dropped your hand from your mouth, watching your father as if he were a ticking time bomb.
“Is this a good thing?” He asked, finally shattering the wall of silence that had been put up.
Your eyes widened as you looked between your father and your boyfriend, “Oh, yes! We’re very happy,” you clarified, bracing your hands on the armrests of your chair.
Finally, your dad smiled and stood up from his desk chair, waving you over and enveloping you in a hug, “Then congratulations,” he told you, pulling away slightly, “How long have you known?”
You looked back at Spencer, who was standing up beside you and looking decidedly less nervous, “About ten hours,” he answered for the both of you.
Releasing you, your father looked your boyfriend up and down, “You should probably get married before the baby arrives,” he suggested. You recognized the mischievous look on his face – you frequently sported the same look.
“Right, of course,” Spencer said, straightening his posture behind you, nerves once again emanating from him.
You held a hand up, “An incredibly bold statement considering I was in your wedding,” you peered at your father.
Ignoring you, your dad continued, “So, we should settle on a dowry.”
“Dad!”
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marvelwitchergilmore · 5 months ago
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First Kick
Summary: Aaron Hotchner x Fe!Reader -> Both you and Aaron have been in a secret relationship for three years, except when you go into labour, the rest of the team can't help but speculate.
Disclaimer: Just pure fluff. Small descriptions of labour. BAU being a family. Jack and Haley don't exist in this fic. Not Proof Read.
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You would have thought working with a bunch of FBI profilers, they would have figured out the truth by now. 
But they hadn’t. 
Instead, both yourself and Aaron had lived in wedded bliss for the last three years and were now expecting your first child. 
Of course, that couldn’t be hidden from the team. The constant morning sickness. The aversions to certain smells. The swollen ankles, the overwhelming emotions and the growing belly. 
Which, as you were sitting at the dim light of your desk filling in the last of the paperwork for your latest case, began to move. 
The others had stepped out for a while, grabbing some food. They had invited you except the thought of walking a block and a half already made you want to fall asleep. So, kissing the top of your head, Morgan took your order and promised to bring you back extra guac. 
The hum from the headphones you placed around your belly filled the small silence, a tune of Motzart rather than a constant drum of a nearby printer. 
However, from under the headphones, you felt a movement. 
It wasn’t big. Barely noticeable. But it was there. 
Or was it? 
Maybe it was nothing. 
Except, twenty seconds later, you knew for certain. 
Pulling the headphones from you, you stood up immediately and rushed towards Hotch’s office. 
And you continued with your normal routine. Knocking on his door, calling his name and stepping inside. 
“Is everything okay?”
Trying not to raise any alarm, you closed his office door behind you before shutting the blinds. 
“Is everything okay?”
Aaron scanned your face. “Honey?”
Within seconds he was by your side. “What is it?”
But then you smiled. And he became confused. 
“What-”
“Feel.”
Taking his hand, you guided it to cover part of your growing belly. “What am I-”
Kick.
You watched every emotion possible pass over Aaron’s face as he took in the feeling of your child kicking his palm. 
“Is that-”
Kick.
Then he laughed. 
Aaron Hotchner laughed. 
It wasn’t often that you got to see this side of your husband when at work. So it was a nice surprise when you did. 
Within seconds, he had stepped a little closer and had carefully removed his hand from the top of your stomach and slipped it under the hem of your shirt, allowing his warm palm to rest against your skin. 
Then your baby kicked harder. 
You both laughed that time. 
“Hey, ow.” You said, looking at your stomach. 
Aaron chuckled lightly before resting his forehead against yours as his other hand rested against your face, brushing the fallen hair from your face and cupping your cheek. 
“She’s moving.” 
You smiled. “You’re still convinced it’s a girl?”
“Of course I am. I’m a profiler. I should know.” 
You chuckled lightly, shaking your head. “I’m a profiler, too, you know.”
“I know.”
“And it’s mother.”
“And you disagree?” He asked, still with a light smile gracing his lips. 
You hummed. “I’m uncertain.”
“Well, how about I give you my profile and see how you feel?”
You laughed. “It really is second nature to you.”
Aaron hummed before moving his hand, still under your shirt, to the top of your belly. 
“You’re carrying high, for one.” His thumb traced back and forth on your stomach. “You’ve suffered with morning sickness before twelve weeks, your main craving so far has been fruit. You sleep on your right side.”
“I always sleep on my right side.”
Aaron smiled. “And your skin,” He stroked his thumb against your cheekbone. “It’s soft.”
You smiled, leaning into his touch. “Except, they are just old wives tales.”
“I’d like to think there is still some justice in them. Are you sure you want to wait until they’re born?”
“Yes.”
“And you couldn’t be persuaded?”
“Nope.”
“Are you sure?” Aaron smirked a little before leaning in and kissing you. 
Pulling his hand from your stomach, he brought it up to the other side of your face and it wasn’t long before he felt your body melt into his. 
“The others are going to be back soon.”
Aaron groaned a little but not before kissing you a last few times before pulling away. 
“You’d think they would have figured it out by now.” 
You nodded. “But it is kinda fun. And I can’t wait until they see our baby. I have a feeling they’ll look like you.”
“I should hope so.”
You laughed. “You know what I mean. And, if it is a girl, don’t they usually look like they’re dad?”
“Are you saying you agree with my profile?”
You hummed. “Maybe. Just a little. You are the Unit Chief of the BAU, so I suppose you have some credibility.”
“Even if they’re just old wives tales?” He asked, raising his eyebrow a little. 
You nodded, with a slight smile. “Even if they’re just old wives tales.”
You finally left his office just before the team got back, but not before stealing a few more kisses. 
Over the following months, the team grew more protective of you. With your pregnancy coming to an end, and still not knowing who the father was, they began to step up. 
It was sweet to watch. 
Penelope had planned your baby shower with JJ’s help. Reid had read up on everything a doctor and midwife knew about giving birth, just in case you went into early labour. Emily had helped you pack your spare hospital bag for the office in case you were rushed into labour whilst at the office or away on a case, being too far from home to drive to get your hospital bag. 
And when Hotch couldn’t be by your side, he made sure either Rossi and Morgan were there to help you. 
“You okay there, Momma?”
You looked to Morgan who had appeared from around the corner. You were leaning against the counter, your hand holding onto the bottom of your belly. 
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” You breathed out. “Just a little- ow. Okay. Hey-”
“Whoa, hey, okay, take it easy.”
Morgan placed his coffee mug down, coming right back to your side and holding your hand. “What do you need?”
Your grip tightened around his hand. “Ow. Hospital.”
“Okay, okay. Where’s your hospital bag?”
“By my desk. Emily-” You grunted in pain. “Emily knows.”
“Okay, okay. It’s okay. Emily!”
Turning around, it took Emily less than ten seconds to realise what was going on. 
“Okay, Garcia. Hey! Penelope, call Hotch. Let him know what’s going on.”
“Why, what’s-O…oh my god. Okay, Okay. Calling him now.”
By the time Morgan got you to the parking lot, Hotch was pulling in. 
“Get in, I can drive her straight there.”
“Have you got everything you need?”
You nodded. 
“Call us if you need anything?” Emily asked, shutting your door. 
You could only hum, holding onto Emily’s hand. 
She leaned in for a moment, kissing your cheek. 
“See you when you get back, Momma.”
Hotch pulled away a few moments later, rushing you directly to the hospital. 
And for the next twenty hours, Hotch stayed by your side. And the rest of the team started to think. 
“I mean, think about it. When she got braxton hicks. Who was the first one at her side?”
“Hotch.” Penelope answered. 
“Yeah, and the way he looked. I don’t know about you but I have never seen Hotch that nervous.”
“That is true.” Rossi agreed. 
“But they can’t be…together, can they?” JJ asked. “You all had it sussed about me and Will. They couldn’t go this long and not have us at least find out.”
“Maybe they didn’t want us to.”
“Or maybe they’re not together at all.”
“When have you ever known either of them to be that close with each other as they are with us? Rossi, have you ever seen the inside of Hotch’s house?”
“Not for a while, no. Why, have you ever seen hers?”
Emily shook her head. 
“Penelope, can you find out anything?” Morgan asked, turning to his best girl. 
“I can but it would completely wreck my moral standing.”
“You’ve never run a background check on us?” JJ asked. 
“No! That would be an invasion of your privacy. And theirs! If they are a..them, I suppose. Or maybe not. Maybe she is just a single mother and Hotch has decided to help her. He was the first to find out.”
“See, another thing!” Emily pointed out. 
“But Hotch is the first to know everything about us. He’s the main person we have to tell when it comes to personal things that could affect our work.” Morgan explained. 
“But why not come to one of us?” Rossi asked. “JJ, what do you think? Out of us, who would you have come to?”
JJ thought for a moment. “Out of you boys? Probably…Hotch.”
“Really?” Rossi asked. 
“Why not me?” Morgan asked. 
“Or me?” Reid finished. 
JJ smiled. “You know I love you all equally, but out of Three Divorces, Pretty Boy and Chocolate Thunder, I’d want to tell someone I know to be calm. That could remain level headed.”
“And we’re not level headed?” Morgan asked, causing JJ to look up above her shoulder. 
“What did you do when I told you I was pregnant?”
Morgan paused for a second. “You may have a point.”
“Either way, we can’t know for certain that they’re having a baby together.” Reid pointed out. 
“Well, she’s married. Or engaged, at least.”
They all turned to Emily. 
“How do you know that?”
“Her wedding finger. Last time she came back from AL she had a tan line. It was faint, but it was there.”
“Maybe he ran off? They got pregnant but he didn’t want to be in the picture?”
Penelope scoffed. “What a jerk.”
“I don’t think they’d appreciate us speculating like this.”
“JJ’s right. Maybe they’re just friends and Hotch is helping her out. Garcia, have you heard from them yet?”
“Not yet, Sir.”
Meanwhile, at the hospital, the midwife was instructing Aaron to get behind you, holding you up and holding your hands and you continued to push. 
“I don’t think I can do it.”
“Yes, you can. Yes, you can. Come on, honey. I know you can.”
“Can’t you do it for me?”
Aaron chuckled. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”
“Just a couple more pushes, Mrs Hotchner.”
Another wave of contractions hit and you continued to push for another fifteen minutes before finally everyone in the room heard the cries of your baby. 
“You did it, honey. I’m so proud of you. You did it.”
“Is she okay? What-Where is she?”
Aaron smiled, tears in his eyes, pushing the hair out of your own. “She’s-She’s okay. Look, the midwife is just wrapping them up.”
A few moments later, the midwife handed you your baby. 
Two days later they discharged you from the hospital and the first stop made was at the office considering the last of your things had been left there when you went into labour. 
And it also meant the team could finally greet your baby. 
“Ooh, ooh, they’re here. They’re here.”
Penelope was the first to spot you and Hotch standing in his office and it wasn’t long before they were all standing outside. 
However, as the congratulations and praise was made, Penelope’s voice dropped an octave after she got a clear look of the baby. 
“Oh my god.”
“What is it, Garcia?”
“Ohh, ohh, ohh my goodness.”
But you could only smile. 
“You!” Penelope pointed before turning to look at Hotch. “And you! Oh my god! You are!”
You looked behind you, finding your husband standing closer to you than when the team had first walked inside. 
“Are what? Baby girl, what’s-”
And then it clicked. 
With all of them. 
And for a moment they were all stunned into complete silence. 
“Aaron…why didn’t you…”
“Tell you?” Hotch asked, finishing Rossi’s question.
“Truthfully, we kinda maybe wanted to see how long it would take you all to figure out.” You explained. 
“But…how?!” JJ asked. 
You just shrugged. 
“Hints were there if you looked for them.” Aaron said. 
“Hints were- Oh, so, now he tells us. How long?”
“Four years.” You both answered. 
“Four years?!” They all half shouted, quickly remembering there was an infant present. 
“Wait.” Penelope said, holding up her hands. “Oh my god, it’s all coming together. This must be how Sherlock Holmes feels when he cracks a case.”
Both yourself and Aaron smiled before looking down at the sleeping baby in your arms. 
“The weekends away, the lunch orders, the arrive at work together. Oh my god! The touching.” Penelope hit Emily and Derek’s arm. 
“Ow!” They both called. 
“How could you two not have noticed this?!”
“You didn’t notice either!” Emily replied, rubbing her arm. 
“Baby girl, they kept this from us for four years. Why aren’t you hitting them?”
“Because,” Penelope explained. “She had just had a beautiful baby girl. And Hotch is my boss.”
“Can you ever find a way to forgive us?”
They all looked at each other before seemingly coming to the same conclusion. “Fine. But, only if you tell us how it happened and when. And, if you have a wedding re-do so that we all get to attend.”
Both you and Aaron looked at each other. 
“That could work.”
“Great! Now, let me see this beautiful baby girl.” Penelope said, her voice once again chipper, as she came to your side. 
“My goodness, she’s beautiful. Hotch, she looks just like you.”
Aaron smiled at the compliment, but shook his head. “No, that’s all her mom.”
“Oh-ho,” Rossi laughed a little. “She is going to be running rings around us all soon enough.”
Four weeks later, each member of the team turned up together on different days, listening to the story of your relationship. First were the girls and Reid before JJ showed up with Morgan and Rossi. JJ was there to drop some items off that both yourself and Hotch would find useful with the nursery but she didn’t mind hearing the story a second time. 
Eight weeks after you had given birth, your doorbell rang and just as Aaron opened up the front door, Penelope and Rossi walked inside carrying boxes of items before directing the rest of the team through your home into the garden. 
“Dave, what’s going on?”
“You, my dear friend, are getting married.”
“We’re already married.” You said with a small laugh, walking to stand beside your husband. 
Dave nodded. “That you are, but today, you are both getting remarried. You did promise us.”
“We did promise them.” Aaron said, turning to look at you. 
“We did, didn’t we?”
Dave smiled. “So, Uncle Reid is going to be looking after this little one.”
You carefully handed your baby girl to Spencer as Dave continued to explain. 
“Whilst the girls help you get ready and I enlist your help,” Rossi turned to look at Hotch. “To help finish the set up.”
Penelope appeared from down the hallway. “Come on, Emily is finishing setting everything up.”
“I guess I’ll see you at the wedding?”
“I’ll be the one in white.”
Aaron smiled before kissing you quickly as barely a second later Penelope was dragging you upstairs. 
That night was filled with joy, laughter and happiness. Yourself and Aaron shared another set of marriage vows in front of the team. You shared a second first dance, a second first kiss and a first family dance. 
It was a quiet moment on the corner of the dance floor. You were swaying with your baby, softly, in your arms when you felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind and a familiar pair of lips kiss your shoulder. 
Turning around you, Aaron held both of you close. Your forehead against his and your eyes closed, his fingers traced patterns against your arms back and forth before down your side and to your hips where he pulled you in a little closer. 
Neither of you knew it until a week later, but Morgan had, with Emily’s help, caught everything on camera. And with help from Penelope, a second wedding video had been made. 
Capturing the full length of your first family dance together.
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girlbossvicvega · 16 days ago
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ik it was intended primarily for funny show reasons but shassie is just a crazy dichotomy. Guy with commitment issues vs guy who commits too hard. Guy with no dad vs guy with too much dad. Guy with net negative social skills who desperately wants them vs guy with incredible insight into people who hates himself for having it. Guy who’s surly and mean to hide need to be loved vs guy who’s breezy and charming to hide need to be loved
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badathumanemotions · 2 months ago
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Sweet Cravings
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Spencer Reid x Fem Reader MDNI Master List Category: Smut CW: Pregnancy, Marriage, Pudding, Pregnancy Kink, Breeding Kink, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex (fem), Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Aftercare, Softness WC: 2,867
Ever since you got pregnant Spencer can't keep his hands off of you. (Not Proof Read)
Spencer Reid walked into the kitchen, the soft patter of his footsteps on the linoleum floor the only sound in the otherwise quiet apartment.
You were standing by the counter, your back to him, a spoon delicately scraping the last remnants of chocolate pudding from the plastic cup in your hand. The simple act of watching you, in a tight tank top that barely concealed the swell of your belly, sent a warm feeling through him. The way you licked the spoon clean, eyes closed in quiet satisfaction, was a sight that stirred something primal within him.
"You know you're going to share that, right?" he teased, his voice low and playful. You turned to face him, a sly smile playing on your lips. Your eyes sparkled with mischief, a hint of the devilish intentions swirling in your mind.
"There's no more left," you said with a smirk, holding the empty cup out to him. The way your tongue darted out to catch the last remnants of pudding on your lips was a silent invitation, one he wasn't about to ignore. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to trace the soft curve of your jaw, guiding your mouth to his. Your kiss was sticky sweet, a delicious blend of chocolate and the essence of you that he craved.
Ever since you started showing, his hands hadn't been able to resist exploring the new landscape of your body. The swell of your stomach, the fullness of your breasts, every inch of your skin seemed to hum with a new vitality that drew him in like a moth to a flame. His fingers trailed down to the hem of your tank top, inching it upward as his mouth moved from your lips to the sensitive skin of your neck.
Your breath hitched as his teeth grazed your earlobe, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. Luckily for him, your pregnancy hormones had you turned on at the drop of a hat, and it didn't take much to set you alight with desire. You leaned into him, your own hands reaching for his belt, eager to feel the familiar heat of his skin against yours.
Spencer steadily guided you back against the kitchen table, his hands firm yet gentle as they held your hips in place. You felt the edge of the table press into the small of your back, reminding you of the countless times he'd taken you there in the heat of the moment, leaving you trembling and satisfied.
With surprising ease, he lifted you, the strength in his arms belying his scholarly exterior. You gasped as he set you down on the cool surface, your legs automatically parting to accommodate him.
He took his time, savoring the moment as he peeled the tank top up and over your head, revealing your swollen breasts that begged for his touch. His eyes feasted on the sight, drinking in every detail of your transformation. His hands cupped them gently, thumbs flicking over the tight peaks of your nipples, eliciting a soft moan from your parted lips.
Spencer leaned in, his mouth closing around one of your nipples, suckling eagerly. You arched your back, pushing into his mouth, the sensation sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. His other hand played with the neglected breast, kneading and teasing, as his tongue swirled around the sensitive skin.
You felt your core clench, the need for his touch growing more insistent by the second. You reached down to stroke the growing bulge in his pants, feeling his arousal through the fabric. He groaned, his eyes snapping up to meet yours, and the intensity of his gaze was thrilling.
He lavished your breasts with attention, his tongue and teeth teasing, his hands kneading and squeezing. The sensations were almost overwhelming, and you felt a wetness pool between your thighs. He noticed and his eyes darkened, his pupils dilating with hunger. He kissed a trail down your stomach, pausing to place a gentle kiss on your navel.
Spencer's hands slipped to the waistband of your sleep shorts, his fingers deftly untying the bow. He pulled them down, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. He kissed along your inner thighs, his stubble tickling your sensitive flesh. His hands followed the path of his lips, smoothing over your skin as the shorts fell to the floor.
You watched as he knelt before you. His hands spread your thighs wider, revealing the glistening wetness that awaited him. His gaze was intense, filled with a hunger that mirrored your own.
He pulled you to the very edge of the table, aligning your centre with his eager mouth. The first touch of his tongue against your folds was like a spark setting flame. You gasped, your hands clutching the table's edge for balance. He tasted you, savouring the sweetness that was uniquely yours, and the way your body quivered under his touch. His mouth moved with purpose, exploring every inch of your sex with a focus that was both tender and relentless.
In that moment, you were his goddess, the embodiment of creation and beauty. Your pregnant belly was a testament to the life growing within you, a life that was a part of him in the most profound way. He revered you, and his adoration was clear in the way he kissed, licked, and teased you.
Spencer feasted on your flesh, driving you to a blissful high with every stroke of his tongue. Your thighs quivered around his head, your hips rocking against the table as he pleasured you. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he delved deeper, exploring every fold and curve of your sex. He knew your body better than anyone else, and the way he touched you was a symphony of pleasure, each movement calculated to bring you closer to the edge.
The genius in him had always manifested in every aspect of your relationship, but in the bedroom—or in this case, the kitchen—it was a gift that kept on giving. He'd studied your reactions, your sounds, and your breathing, learning the precise moments when you needed a gentle caress or a firmer touch. His tongue danced around your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure, while his fingers delved into your wetness, stroking the spot that made you scream his name.
And scream you did. The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with an intensity that made your toes curl and your eyes roll back in your head. Your body bucked against his mouth, your hands fisting in his hair as he drank you in. The warmth of your release painted his face, a delicate display of pleasure that made him smile against your skin.
Spencer stood up, his own arousal pressing against his pants. He pulled you to the edge of the table, aligning his body with yours. He claimed your mouth again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. The intimacy was heady, a silent declaration of his ownership and adoration.
In mere seconds, his clothes were off, thrown aside without a care for where they landed. His bare chest brushed against your swollen breasts, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You felt his erection against your stomach, a blunt reminder of the primal urges that had taken hold of him. He didn't want to delay this any further, the need to claim you, to feel your body pulsing around his, was too great.
Spencer helped you lie back, his gentle hands supporting your weight as you settled onto the cool kitchen table. He paused for a moment to appreciate the view, the way your pregnant belly rose and fell with every breath you took, the way your legs dangled over the edge of the table, inviting him in. He stepped closer, positioning himself between your open thighs.
With a smouldering gaze, he took the tip of his erection and teased your clit with it, watching as your hips instinctively bucked to meet him. The sensation was exquisite, the softness of your flesh against his hardness, the way you glistened with desire. You moaned, your eyes half-lidded with anticipation.
He didn't rush, taking his time to savour every moment. Each inch of his cock sliding into you was a symphony of sensation, the tightness of your walls around him a warm embrace that made him groan with pleasure. Your body stretched to accommodate him, a testament to the countless times you've been together, your bodies moulding to each other's needs.
As he watched himself sink into you again and again, his eyes glazed over with a mix of pleasure and primal need. The sight was erotic, a visual representation of his dominance over your body, your willingness to take all of him. With each thrust, his balls slapped against your ass, the sound echoing through the room and driving him closer to the edge.
"You're so wet for me, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Do you like being filled up with your husband's cock?" His words were like a caress, a whispered declaration of his ownership, and they sent a fresh wave of arousal through you. You nodded, unable to form coherent sentences as your body was overtaken by pleasure.
"I want you tied to the bed, always ready for me," he growled, the primal need in his voice making your stomach flip. "I'll keep you full of my cum, breeding you until you can't take anymore."
Your eyes widened with excitement, the kinky promise of his words sending a shiver down your spine. The breeding kink had always been a part of your relationship, a delicious game that played on your deepest desires. But now, with a baby growing inside you, the reality of his words was a heady aphrodisiac.
"Oh, god, Spencer," you breathed, your voice barely a whisper. The thought of being at his mercy, of being filled with his seed, swollen with his child, was more than you could handle. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Your body was made to carry my babies, isn't that right?"
"Yes," you moaned, the word escaping on a rush of air as his cock filled you completely. His strokes grew deeper, harder, each thrust claiming you as his own, marking you as the vessel for his progeny. The words were raw, unfiltered, and utterly intoxicating. They tapped into the deepest part of you, the part that craved his dominance, his possession.
The kitchen table creaked under the force of your movements, but you were lost in the sensation of him inside you. Your pussy was practically leaking all over him, a slick, needy mess that only served to drive him wilder. Spencer's eyes were dark with lust, his pupils dilated as he watched the place where your bodies joined, the way your flesh stretched around his length.
The rhythm grew faster, more erratic, his hips slapping against yours. The sound was almost as intoxicating as the feel of him, pushing deep, retreating, only to plunge back in again. You could feel your climax building, the muscles in your core tightening as you chased the high that only he could give you.
And then his words, that sweet, filthy talk that had always had you on edge, started to flow again. "You're mine, baby," he groaned, his voice tight with his own need. "Always and forever. My cock is going to fill you up, claim you, make you mine all over again."
You whimpered, the words alone pushing you closer to the edge. You felt your body tighten around him, your pussy squeezing him like a vice as the tension grew. His hands roamed over your body, claiming every inch of your skin as if he were worshipping a goddess. "You're going to come for me, aren't you?" he demanded, his voice a low growl that resonated through your very soul.
With a deft touch, Spencer found your clit, stroking it in time with his thrusts. Each touch was a spark, igniting the fire that was already burning out of control. You bucked your hips, trying to get closer, trying to get more of him.
"Cum for me, baby," he ordered, his voice a mix of love and dominance. "Cum all over my cock."
You didn't need any more prompting. The orgasm hit you like a freight train, stealing the breath from your lungs and making your eyes roll back in your head. Your body convulsed around him, muscles spasming as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. He never stopped moving, never broke rhythm, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside that sent sparks of ecstasy shooting through your veins.
"Good girl," he praised. "That's right, cum on my cock." You felt your pussy clench around him, milking his length as your release painted him in your juices.
As the last tremor of your climax subsided, Spencer's own need took over. His strokes grew erratic, his breath coming in harsh pants. The sight of your body, writhing with pleasure beneath him, was perfection. With a guttural groan, he let go, his eyes squeezing shut.
You felt the hot rush of his cum fill you, his body tensing as he emptied himself into your welcoming warmth. It was a feeling that never got old, the knowledge that he was leaving a part of himself inside you. His seed painted your insides, and you revelled in the sensation.
Spencer remained still for a moment, his cock buried deep within you, his chest heaving with exertion. He placed gentle kisses along the skin within reach.
Finally, he pulled out, his cock glistening with the evidence of your shared passion. He knelt down, his gaze fixed on the sight of his cum slowly slipping out of your well-fucked pussy. It was a mesmerizing vision, one that made his pulse quicken. His seed trickled down your sex, a testament to his virility and the depth of his claim on your body.
Reid watched with a sense of primal satisfaction as the sticky white liquid pooled on the table below you. The smell of sex filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of chocolate pudding. The sight was carnally erotic, a reminder of the raw, animalistic connection you shared. His hand trailed down your belly to the spot where he'd just been, tracing the line of cum that trailed down your inner thigh.
He grabbed a clean kitchen towel from the counter, his movements deliberate and precise. With tender care, he began to clean you up. Each wipe was gentle yet thorough, his eyes never leaving the spot where his essence met your flesh. The towel grew damp with the evidence of your shared passion, and he was in no hurry to be done.
Once you were clean, he helped you sit up and pulled your shorts back into place. He took the towel and cleaned himself off before pulling his own clothes back on. You watched him, the love and admiration in your eyes unmistakable. The way he tucked his shirt into his pants, the way his muscles moved under the fabric, was a sight that never failed to arouse you.
Spencer noticed your gaze and leaned in for a soft kiss. "You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle and concerned. You nodded, still basking in the afterglow of your climax. He knew your body was sensitive now, and he didn't want to push you too far.
He led you to the couch, his arm around your waist, supporting your weight as you walked. You sat down, your legs still wobbly from the intensity of your orgasm, and he grabbed a throw blanket, draping it over you. His eyes searched your face, looking for any signs of discomfort, any indication that he'd been too rough.
Spencer took a seat beside you, his hand immediately finding its way to your stomach. He gently caressed the mound, feeling the baby's soft kicks under his fingertips. The look of wonder in his eyes was a stark contrast to the fiery passion from just moments ago. His touch was tender, almost reverent, as he whispered sweet nothings to the life you both created.
Leaning back against his chest, you felt the warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his heart, and the comforting embrace of his arms around your waist. His fingers continued to trace patterns on your belly, the baby's movements a silent reminder of the love that grew between you.
The two of you settled into a content silence, the only sound being the occasional sigh of satisfaction that escaped your lips as Spencer's touch grew more soothing with each stroke of your belly. You felt the baby's movements slow and steady, a gentle reminder of the love that had brought you to this moment. You couldn't help but reflect on the man who held you so tenderly. Spencer Reid, the brilliant and quirky agent you had come to love. He had become your rock, your confidant, your protector, and now, the father of your child.
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spidersdad · 7 months ago
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Kidnapper: we have your son.
Hotch: but my son is with me right now.
Kidnapper: ..shit. then who is this? he asked to pour him 250 ml of chocolate milk because I quote “statistically-
Hotch: fuck they have Reid. BABY, HOLD ON I’M COMING!
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inkdrinkerworld · 8 months ago
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Dad!Spencer forgetting to take a hair clip out of his hair that his daughter put in earlier that morning 🤭 and nobody telling him until he goes home LMAO
Georgia has a cutesie little routine with her dad, he does her hair and she does his.
This morning Spencer has spent the better half of twenty minutes braiding her hair back and out of her face.
“Daddy, can you put the ribbons in today? The orange ones, please?” It would clash with her outfit but who is Spencer to deny her that?
“Course Georgia, on both braids or one tying them both together?”
He likes giving her choices like this, letting her decide little things so she feels she has a say. Spencer likes her to be knowledgeable and a little independent- but not too much, he still wants her to need you both.
“Invididually,” he smiles at how she says it and nods.
“Individually, you got it.” He ties the ribbons in cute little bows and then pats her back. “All done, go get breakfast with your mom.”
She starts to hop off the stool she’s stood on and then stops. “Wait. Daddy?” Her eyebrows pulled tight together as she reaches in her hair bag.
“Yes, sweetheart?” Spencer looks equally perturbed.
“Can I put this one in your hair? So we match?” He nods and kneels down, letting her little hands push back his hair and set the orange clip in his hair.
Breakfast is busy, as it usually is with a five year old. She wants waffles and you and Spencer spend a little time coaxing yogurt and fruit on her plate.
You pack her lunch kit, pack yours and then Spencer’s and you’re all rushing out of the door- you need to beat traffic.
You kiss Spencer goodbye and you both rush off- you to drop Georgia and Spencer to the bau.
His day doesn’t get less busy, an all paperwork day, so he’s stuck at his desk and while he gets weird looks from Derek, he doesn’t take it on much.
It’s not unusual at all.
“Okay guys, get home. We’re not getting much else and we’re all updated on the paperwork.” Hotch makes the announcement around four thirty and Spencer sighs, cracking his knuckles as he stretches in his chair.
“Alright, I’m headed home guys. Georgia started fractions today and that math is never good for six year olds.”
He’s packing his back and catches a look of himself in his laptop’s reflection before he closes it.
“Oh shit,” he mumbles, turning round Emily and JJ. “Did I have it in all day?”
They both nod, JJ smiles gently. “It’s a good look Spence, a nice touch from Georgia.”
“She’s getting better at gripping your hair back. Fine motor fully developed.” Emily compliments.
He blushes but doesn’t even bother to take it out, knowing she’s going to love it that he’s kept it in all day.
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strawbeerossi · 11 months ago
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Stuffing Stockings
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Pairing: Wife!Reader x Husband!Spencer
Description: Spencer and you have been married for ten years with a beautiful six year old daughter. Whenever she gives you her Christmas list, you notice something new on the list and bring it up to your husband.
Content/Warnings: Dad!Spencer, discussions of expanding family, interest in being pregnant/wanting another baby, breeding kink, oral sex (f rec), penetrative sex, mention of failed test and disappointment, happy ending.
Word Count: 3.5K
Merry Christmas, my sweeties! Santa T is giving you a present because of how much I love you all!
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“Mama, I have my Christmas list ready!” Matilda announced, a bright smile on her face revealing the front tooth that the tooth fairy had recently come to take. She was a spitting image of Spencer, beautiful honey colored irises and soft brunette curls that framed her face, not to mention her intellect and her determination that no doubt her father had an influence on. 
“Your Christmas list? You’re early,” You smiled fondly as you looked over at the flower filled calendar on the wall closest to the stove, your coffee cup held comfortably between your hands. “Let me hear it, come on!” You urge on, an excited grin on your face. 
You always loved Christmas, however having Matilda just made the holidays so much better. Nothing compared to seeing her excitement whenever you’d place wrapped gifts under your Christmas tree, or when you’d ask her to help you make Christmas treats that her and Spencer would end up eating just days after they were made. 
You wouldn’t trade it for anything. 
“Well. I would like an American Girl doll, Rebecca Rubin to be exact.” Not a surprise. She loved dolls, her father spoiling her with any accessory or set she asked for. “And then I would like some light up sneakers, please. Sam has some at school and I think they are so cool!” She continued. The rest of the things she lifted were usual for a little girl. Until she got to the last thing on that list. 
“And then I want a little brother or sister.” She concluded, a wide grin on your face. The mere suggestion had you nearly choking on the mouthful of coffee, your eyes widening some. “Uncle Luke and aunt Penny said that I have to write it in my list so it happens!” 
Penelope and Luke. Classic. 
“A baby brother or sister?” You repeated, watching those beautiful curls bounce as the kindergartner nodded her head. “You do know that they won’t be here in time for Christmas if that happens, right?” You asked, wanting to break it gently to her that even if she got what she wanted, it would be well past Christmas before she got a sibling. 
“Oh. I know. Babies grow in mommy’s bellies for nine whole months. Which seems like a long time but I think it’ll go by fast! Oh please, mama?! A baby would be cute and cuddly, even whenever they are cranky!” 
The begging was tugging at your heart. She really wanted this, didn’t she? You and Spencer were financially stable enough for you to stay home while he worked with the BAU, not to mention that you both could definitely handle Matilda and a new baby. “You know I have to talk to daddy about this before we make a decision.”
After that, the idea of another baby was stuck in your mind. Your first pregnancy was rough, however you still really did enjoy the process of growing a future scholar who would change the world. Just thinking about it had you reminiscing, especially when it came to being pregnant. You could remember every appointment, the announcement to your friends and families, all the excitement that you and Spencer felt with every heartbeat and every little kick. 
Your husband had gotten home relatively early on a Saturday evening after a long case in Tampa, Florida. He was toeing his shoes off by the front door in an effort to surprise you and Matilda, the two of you unaware he was even coming home today. You were in the kitchen making dinner while your shared daughter was at the table, happily coloring in her new coloring book. 
 It was a blissful sight, the domesticity of it all bringing normalcy to Spencer’s busy and sometimes abnormal feeling life. “You two look peaceful,” He decided to speak up, Matilda quickly turning in her chair to look at her father. With a wide smile and teary eyes, she was quickly leaping from the chair to run into your husband’s expecting arms. “Hi!” He chuckled fondly while kissing her cheek sweetly. 
“I missed you!” She whined out, keeping a tight hold on her father. “I thought you weren’t gonna home until after Christmas!” She added on, making Spencer’s heart drop. He loved his job but he hated being away for what could’ve been weeks at a time. That was the hardest part. 
“Hey, I’m home now and I’m gonna be here for Christmas. I promise. In fact,” He was picking up Matilda while resting her on his hip. “I need to see your Christmas list!” He grinned while bouncing his daughter. “Mama, where’s the list?” Spencer then asked as he turned his attention to you. 
“Oh, mama needs to talk to you about that!” The six year old in his arms perked up, making Spencer look at you with an amused, yet questionable look. 
“Talk to me? About what? Don’t tell me that Tilly wants to get a car or something already.” Spencer teased. A car might’ve been easier convincing depending on how he felt about expanding the family. 
“Not exactly a car,” You laughed a bit while grabbing the list that had been neatly folded and stuck to the fridge with a magnet. “She wants a new American girl doll, a new accessory set to go with said doll, light up sneakers, a dollhouse,” You paused while reading over the last item. “And a baby brother or sister.” 
Spencer felt like the items on the list were easy enough. A doll, some accessories, a dollhouse and sneakers. He could knock that out with just one shopping trip. However whenever he heard the last item, his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “A new brother or sister, huh?” He asked slowly, glancing at the little girl who smiled widely. 
“I know the baby won’t be here for Christmas, daddy.” Matilda just knew by the look in his eyes that he didn’t wanna break the news she’d have to wait for that. Her reassurance had him taking in a breath of relief though. That little girl was too smart for her own good. 
“Well. That’s a big decision. You think you’re ready to be a big sister? Cause babies are a lot of work.” Spencer asked, a smile on his face at her sheer excitement he was entertaining the idea. “They cry a lot. Plus, they always need a lot of attention. That’ll mean that sometimes mama and daddy will be busy with the baby.” He said softly while rubbing her back. 
“I know and it’s okay! Babies need more help because they can’t really eat on their own or go potty in the bathroom, so that’s why you and mommy will need to pay extra attention sometimes. But babies are small and cute! And they always want cuddles!” Now that sounded like something Penelope Garcia would say of course she’d gotten to Matilda about the idea. She was just saying at the office that she was wanting another baby around. 
You offered a smile. “Well, it sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into it, Tilly! You know that me and dad have to talk about it though, as grownups.” You added, although judging by your husband’s wide smile and the twinkle in his eye, he was already sold on the entire Christmas list. Well, maybe this was easier to convince than a new car. 
After dinner and baths were in order, it  wasn’t long before you and Spencer were tucking Matilda into bed for the night. Gently closing the door behind you both, Spencer finally turned his attention to you. “A new baby. Wow..” He brought up the idea immediately, his arms gently wrapping around your waist. “How do you feel about the idea?” 
You smiled, body leaning back against his as you let out a soft hum of content. “Well, at first I was wary. Then the more I thought about it.. The more I really wanted it.” You said softly, head tilting up to face him more. “I mean, I think we’ve got this parenting thing down. Plus, I miss being pregnant and having a baby around. I feel like it’s going to be a positive change for us. Parents of two.”
That was all Spencer needed to hear to have him sold completely. “I agree. We are pretty good at this.” He chuckled a bit while moving to press a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s always fun trying too, huh? Maybe All our practicing will pay off.” He teased, making you laugh as you were playfully hitting his arm. “Hey! I’m just saying what we are both thinking!” He laughed in return. 
The both of you had retired to your bedroom for the night, gently closing the door behind you both. “It’s so good to have you home. I’ve missed you.” You sighed, offering a smile as you were heading over to sit on the edge of your shared bed. “It’s just not the same without you home but I know you have to save the world.” You smiled fondly, watching as your husband was shedding from his clothes. 
“I know, honey. I miss being home with you and Tilly more than anything when I have to be gone.” Spencer expressed his own feelings before heading over to you, kneeling in front of you with a soft smile. “But I’m glad to be home now,” He began, pressing kisses to your legs while getting settled between them. His hands were working on the button of your shorts before tugging them down your legs. “Besides, I’m gonna be here for the holidays and I even took the time off to make sure of it.” He hummed, his kisses moving to your inner thighs. 
“Working on the list early, I see.” You teased, brushing the mop of brunette curls from your husband’s face as he was playfully nipping on your plush inner thigh, lifting his head. 
“Guilty. I feel like this is the most expensive present Tilly is getting.” He teased, the both of you sharing a little giggle before he was going right back to where he started. 
Those kisses ended with your hips being tugged close to the end of the bed, his tongue lapping over your clothed clit. “God, I’ve missed you.” He murmured, hands working to tug your panties down your legs. Spencer was absolutely pleased with the sight of your glistening pussy, mouth salivating at the sight. It had been far too long for his liking. 
“Pretty girl. You look like you’ve missed me too.” He purred, tongue moving to flick over your throbbing bud, only chuckling as you were already clutching his hair. He didn’t make an effort to tease you long, tongue already delving into the warmth of your cunt as he was so focused on drinking every ounce of your essence, taking whatever you had to give him. 
“Spencer, fuck.” You squeaked, legs practically locking around his head to keep him in place as he was too drunk on lapping and sucking at your desperate pussy. The thought of a new baby excited him in more ways than one. 
There was the calm and innocent way that just had him thrilled to have a new baby and expand your beautiful family. Then there was the dirty and not so innocent side of him that knew there would be a lot of nights where he was stuffing your pussy just in an effort to get that positive test. Just the thought of his cum dripping down your trembling thighs was enough to have him hard as a rock, his cock begging for attention while he was so focused on giving you all of his. 
While his tongue feverishly lapped at your wetness, his hands were gripping your hips just a little tighter. Truth be told, Spencer could get off merely from cunnilingus alone. He fed off of your pleasure, the way you would shove his head more into your weeping cunt for more was enough to make his cock twitch in his boxers right now. 
Although even through all the excitement, he was soon pulling away from your pussy much to both of your dissatisfaction. “I feel like I’m gonna cum in my boxers and I’m not wasting what I could be giving you,” He added on, breathing labored as he was quickly getting up to shed his boxers while you were quick to do away with your clothes on your torso, shirt and bra thrown somewhere out of sight and out of mind. 
With one hand tugging at his cock, the other was quickly helping you scoot back on your bed, knowing you’d end up flying off if he dared pull you even just an inch closer from your current spot. 
“Comfortable?” He asked, watching you simply grab his arm to pull him on top of you. You didn’t even mind the feeling of his body crushing you for a split second, you knew that you needed him, now. Spencer was adjusting himself into a more comfortable position on top of you, his hand sliding between your thighs. He collected some of your arousal on his fingers before holding them up to show them off to you. 
You knew what was coming next, your mouth now open as you were waiting for the intrusion of his fingers. He learned it was the easiest way to keep you quiet when you needed to be. As you took the digits in your mouth, you were sucking on his fingers. “There we go.” Spencer praised as he was shifting, now pushing his leaking cock into your pussy with a soft groan. 
“I love you.” He breathed, letting his hips slowly snap against yours just to build you up for what was to come. Your face was contorted in pleasure as you muffled an ‘I love you’ around his fingers in return. 
The thought of you being pregnant was bringing out an animalistic side of your normal gentle husband. He loved seeing you pregnant with your first, it made him feel like he was finally contributing to society in the aspect of bringing another potential genius into the world who would do amazing things. The way you looked swollen with his child filled him with pride. 
It was also a bragging right. Yes, he had your hand in marriage but he also cemented the fact you were his. You were getting filled with his cum, begging him to ravage you the way you deserved. He was the only one who could make you feel good. 
The thought of you being pregnant with his second child was enough to make his thrusts get harder and faster. It was the ultimate act of love to carry his child, to raise a family with him. The ultimate act of intimacy of allowing him to know the pleasures of a family and a successful marriage. 
You were squirming underneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Spencer was all too focused on the images flooding his mind. “I’m gonna cum.” He panted. “You want me to fill you up? Give you a baby? Fuck.” Cursing was pretty rare for Spencer but just the mere slip of a curse word had your pussy clenching around his cock, signaling you were ready as well. 
With a few more sloppy snaps of his thrusts, you could feel the warmth of his spent flooding your cunt, your legs trembling as the sensation was enough to have you reaching your climax. “Fuck.” You panted, your husband’s fingers now being pulled out of your mouth. 
His face was flushed, brunette curls plastered to his sweaty forehead as he looked down at you. “You know, I wish we had this idea before. Christmas is coming up so soon, we won’t even be able to get a positive test for her in time for the holiday if we get lucky after this time.” 
“I think that Tilly is gonna be happy either way, to be fairly honest. You should’ve seen the way she looked at me when she was asking for a new sibling. She was so excited.” You recalled, smiling in content as you were slowly, but surely, catching your breath.
With soft eyes, Spencer leaned down to press a sweet kiss against your lips. “I’m really happy she brought it up first. I’ve been wanting another baby for a while but I didn’t want you to feel obligated.” The confession had your hand lightly swatting at your husband’s chest.
“Why didn’t you talk to me before?! I never would’ve felt obligated. I’ve always wanted a big family, you know that.” 
The reassurance had your husband chuckling fondly. “I know, I know. I promise that for the next little Reid, I’ll get to you before our daughter.” He teased, nose nuzzling into your cheek before he was pushing himself out of bed. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, mama.”
—--
It was currently the third week of January, Matilda freshly back in school for the second semester. It was after you dropped Tilly off at school that you were feeling off. You’d been sick the past week or so, mostly just chalking it up to be a bug Matilda seemingly brought home. The more awful you felt, the more you were worrying. Being pregnant wasn’t a problem at all, however the way you would get your hopes up would be.
You’d pushed the idea back for a while, it wasn’t until you were sick for the fifth time that you figured that the test would be better than nothing. You’d only gotten one negative, however with the brain of your husband and his facts about conception, he still gave you some hope.
The sound of the timer going off in the bathroom snapped you out of your thoughts. It was now or never. As you approached the bathroom, you could feel your heart begin to race. If you were pregnant, that would be the best little surprise for your little family. If not, well, you’d at least get to be heartbroken in peace.
Taking in a deep breath and mustering up all of your courage, you were lifting the test from the sink. You felt like you were going to be sick from a mixture of your ailment as well as the nerves. You exhaled the breath you took in seconds before, eyes fixed on the test.
Pregnant.
You nearly fainted, free hand covering your mouth from the surprise. Pregnant, you’re pregnant. Pregnant!!!!
You were thrilled, the test being tucked away in its box before you were hiding it away. You were going to have to show Spencer and Matilda when they got home. You didn’t have the strength to keep it a huge secret and put a surprise together, they needed to know as soon as possible. 
Spencer had gotten to go home early in order to pick up Matilda, something rare that Emily gave him the chance to do considering he was away so much as is. If only those two knew what they were coming home to. 
You were just getting finished with a snack for your daughter whenever you heard the sound of keys jingling in the door. It’s now or never!
“We are home!” The little voice called from the living room, the child taking off her coat and backpack before making sure to hang them up.
“Hi you two.” You offered a smile, pressing a kiss to your daughter’s cheek, followed by a quick peck on your husband’s lips. “Tilly, I have you a snack.” She hummed fondly, watching the little brunette hurry to the table. “You might wanna sit down as well,” You informed your husband, who raised an eyebrow. 
Without question, he’d approached the table before sitting himself down. “Are we in trouble?” He teased, making you roll your eyes fondly.
“No. I just have something I need to tell you both.” You hummed, grabbing the wrapped box from the counter before placing it on the table. “I found this in the closet. It was addressed to you two, I think we forgot it around Christmas.”
“Forgot it? Mama, we never forget presents.” Matilda spoke around a mouthful of apple slices, although her curiosity was piqued as she leaned against the table. “Open it, daddy!” She urged.
As the colorful wrapping paper was peeled away, the male was opening the box. He knew what it was, however he wanted Matilda to have the first big reaction. The minute that the stick was on the table, you could practically see Matilda’s eyes pop out of their sockets from surprise. “Does that say pregnant?!” She asked, looking at her mother with a wide smile. “There’s a baby?!” 
Her excitement made you want to cry your eyes out. “There’s a baby!” You gushed happily. “Now, I still have to go to the doctor because I don’t have specifics just yet,” You began, although your daughter was all too happy to quickly run into your body, arms wrapped around your torso. 
“We are gonna have a baby!!!!”
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astrophileous · 1 year ago
Text
Every Single Day
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Synopsis: When his daughter demands him to tell the story of how the two of you met, Spencer can't help but oblige.
Warning(s): dad spencer🥰, established relationship (eventually), parent-child relationships, alcohol consumption, brief interaction with a douchebag, made-up astronomy facts, made-up places, idk if there's any cursing but I'll throw it in here to be safe, implications of sex and nsfw themes (minors be advised), pregnancy, mentions of illness, mentions and/or implications of character death, topics of loss and grief, angst and fluff because I love the best of both worlds👍 (pls lmk if I missed anything)
Word Count: 7700-ish
Author's Note: hi 👋 I'm back again with another dad!spencer fic bc apparently I'm a sucker for him. I got a lil carried away with this one lol but anyways, I'm also writing this for the meet cute challenge hosted by the amazing and talented @imagining-in-the-margins so pls go head to her profile and show some love cause she's a peach ❤️ don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG
Criminal Minds Masterlist
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The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Against the wind, shades of crimson and orange swayed on the trees. Fallen leaves crunched underneath his feet to the cadence of his leisured steps.
Two deep breaths, in and out. Spencer Reid greeted autumn with the deep longing of an old friend.
Next to him walked a source of light bigger than the sun, jumping and bouncing excitedly on the sidewalk. Her tiny fingers emitted warmth inside of his hand. There was a skip to her step that reminded him of the innocence he had long lost. The innocence she now possessed.
Spencer loved this little girl beyond everything he had ever known.
"Puddle, Dee."
The tiny bundle of joy jumped to escape the small pool of water, grinning up at her father, who then began ruffling her hair until she evaded his onslaught with a shriek.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, Pumpkin?"
"You never told me how you met Mommy."
Spencer glanced down at the 6-year-old, dressed gorgeously in her favorite floral dress, complete with a sweater that had entailed a hearty discussion about humans' perception of cold. It was only after he bribed her with the promise of a chocolate cupcake from Wakey Bakey did Spencer finally convince her to wear the woolen piece of clothing.
His daughter stared at him with a radiant smile peeking out behind a curtain of hair. A smile which Spencer always argued had belonged to you, even though the rest of Diana Aurora Reid was the splitting image of her beloved father.
"Surely I've told you before, Dee."
"Nuh-uh."
"Of course I have."
"No, Daddy. You haven't."
"Pumpkin, you know I don't forget stuff ever," Spencer said, looking at the little girl who was swaying along to the rhythm of her footsteps. "I used to tell you that story all the time. Back when you were still a baby."
Just as predicted, Diana let out a dramatic gasp as if Spencer had uttered the most offensive thing known to mankind; like claiming the earth was actually flat, for example. Spencer couldn't contain his grin upon seeing her reaction.
"But Daddy, that was so long ago!"
"Do you not remember, Dee?"
Diana shook her head.
"Fine. But Mommy must've told you the story already, right?"
"She has, but--"
"But?"
"But I wanna hear it from you."
Little Diana knew that her father could never resist her puppy dog eyes, especially garnished with that adorable pout on top. Once upon a time, you declared it sickeningly cute and annoying whenever Spencer would pull the same trick on you. When Dee started doing the same to him, you had simply laughed and kissed his cheek, letting him get a sweet taste of his own medicine.
Spencer smiled at the young girl next to him, squeezing her nose and relishing in the gleeful squeal that echoed from her chest.
"What do you wanna hear, Pumpkin?"
Diana held her chin, seemingly deep in contemplation before deciding, "Everything, Dad! I wanna hear it from the start."
"The start, huh?" Spencer hummed thoughtfully, his mind already reeling back to the first moment he ever laid eyes on you.
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The story began on yet another ordinary Friday night.
Luck was on the BAU's side when the team managed to wrap the case they had been working all week just before Friday afternoon. By the time the sun was setting, their jet was already high up in the sky, en route from the state of Delaware to Quantico, Virginia. Spencer was looking forward to going home at a reasonable hour for once--maybe catching up on the four reading materials he had promptly pushed aside after his team was called to Delaware to work on the latest case--but that plan dissipated when Derek Morgan suddenly appeared by his side.
"Drinks. Tonight. Everyone's coming, and I'm not taking no for an answer," Derek said before dragging a reluctant Spencer away with him, ignoring the protests that the younger man kept grumbling under his breath all the way to the team's favorite bar.
Spencer just hadn't known it yet, but later down the road, he would spend the rest of eternity thanking Derek Morgan for dragging him along that night.
The Friday night crowd at Shaw's was borderline brutal, but fortunately for the team, a booth in the corner became vacant the moment they stepped into the threshold.
Two hours later, Spencer's fellow teammates weren't even close to calling it a night. The last chorus of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston had just finished blasting from the speakers when Derek sauntered back to the booth, twirling a flushed Penelope Garcia in front of him. Spencer slipped out of the booth to allow them in--preferring to stay on the most outer seat instead of crammed between his tipsy friends' bodies--before sitting down once more.
"Hey, Genius," Penelope called, waving her empty beer glass in front of Spencer's face. "Be a darling and get me a refill, will you?"
"Garcia--" Spencer quickly snatched the glass from her hand before she could send it smashing against someone's head, "--are you sure you want a refill?"
Penelope scrunched her nose. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I think you're plenty drunk already."
"I'm not that drunk," Penelope denied, giggling when an unexpected hiccup interrupted her slurred words. "Derek, tell the beautiful Doctor I'm not that drunk."
"She's not that drunk, Reid." Derek grinned. "While you're at it..."
Spencer could only sigh when Derek slid his own empty glass across the table.
It was past 10 o'clock at night, and the crowd of people in the establishment seemed to have doubled in the couple of hours that the team had been there. Spencer had to squeeze himself through the ocean of patrons flooding the bar, barely able to move his limbs without other people's arms or elbows bumping against his ribcage.
Spencer was waiting for the bartender to complete his order when he happened to glance towards his right, catching sight of the concealed panic that triggered every profiler bone in his body.
Any other person would have taken one look at your face and presumed that everything was alright, but Spencer knew better. He recognized the frantic movement of your eyes, the tight press of your lips, and the impatient knocking of your fingertips on the counter. He only caught the tail end of your voice before discreetly listening to what the man you were talking to had to say.
"--so, unfortunately, I can't."
"I told you, Baby. My Veyron runs at over 260 miles per hour. We can go to Red Clover Hill and get you back home safely by twelve. It's simple math," the guy slurred smugly.
"Actually, that's not true."
The drunken man turned around at Spencer's interruption.
"Excuse me?"
"The Red Clover Hill State Park is approximately 229 miles away from here. Though theoretically, you could drive your Veyron at its maximum velocity, which is around 268 miles per hour, it's very unlikely you'll be able to maintain that speed for the entirety of the ride, considering the terrain you would have to go through between here and there. The fastest you can probably get to the park is in 60 minutes, give or take, and that's being generous. You would have to drive back to D.C. as soon as you arrive at the park if you wish to be back by twelve. It's just realistically impossible."
The man in front of him couldn't be less impressed by Spencer's lengthy rant.
"And who the hell are you?" the drunken guy said, pinning Spencer with a stare that was clearly supposed to be intimidating.
Spencer didn't even flinch. "No one. Just a guy who happens to know a lot about... simple math."
Your loud cough tore Spencer's attention away from the drunk man and towards you, who looked ready to burst from the laughter you were holding underneath. Even under the terrible lighting of the bar, Spencer could still pinpoint the hint of unspoken amusement glimmering inside your eyes.
"Sorry, Bill," you said to the man. "I really do need to be back home by twelve tonight. Maybe some other time?"
Bill didn't need to be told twice. He received the message loud and clear.
Spencer watched the other man scurry away, tail between his legs, before your charming smile enraptured him once more.
"Thank you for that. I was beginning to think he might never leave."
"Happy to help." Spencer smiled thinly, scratching the back of his neck even though the spot wasn't itchy. "What did, uh, why did he want to take you to Red Clover Hill, of all places?"
"Oh. That was... partially my fault." You grinned innocently. "I didn't know he was gonna be an insufferable drunk when he came over, and I was in the middle of watching this."
You pulled out a silver tablet from your lap. Spencer took a peek at the screen, seeing what looked like a live feed of the night sky--over North Carolina, judging by the visible constellations on the vast scene--stamped with the day's date at the bottom of the footage.
"You're watching the Roux-Nell?" Spencer deduced after gathering the facts: the live feed of North Carolina sky, the mention of Red Clover Hill State Park that harbored one of the highest grounds in North Carolina, including a collection of some of the most sophisticated telescopes in the country; you must have been planning to view that night's sighting of the Roux-Nell comet, its first time since the last one in 1927, and only its third one in history.
"Yes! How did you... don't tell me. You're an avid astronomy fan, too?"
Spencer's responding smile only made you beam even brighter.
"Anyway, that guy earlier, Bill, he approached me and asked what I was watching. So, I started talking about the Roux-Nell and about how I wish I was at Red Clover Hill right now since everyone keeps saying it's one of the best spots to view tonight's sighting. I thought he was genuinely interested until he started talking about his Veyron this, his Veyron that. I didn't even realize until a whole five minutes later that he was talking about his car!"
When you finally finished explaining, your eyes locked with Spencer's hazel ones before you seemed to cower shyly.
"Sorry. I can get a little excited when I'm talking sometimes."
"No! Don't be, it was--" Spencer stopped himself before he could complete his sentence.
What was he about to say?
Insightful? Entertaining?
Endearing?
Eventually, Spencer opted to settle for something safe and simple. "I get that way too, sometimes. A lot of the times, actually. So you don't have to apologize."
The fire flickered back inside your gaze following Spencer's admission. It burned brilliantly beneath the kindness you radiated, forged by the sharp intelligence he could see shining out of your eyes.
"So--" Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to shift the conversation in order to distract his racing mind, "--why did you tell him you needed to be back home by twelve?"
"Oh, that? I told him I'm donating blood tomorrow morning, so I need to at least get seven hours of sleep for the night."
"That's a clever lie."
You tilted your head slightly at his statement. "What makes you think it's a lie?"
"Because you're here. Nobody drinks alcohol before they're supposed to donate blood."
Your eyes flashed with surprise. "Not bad, Mister. You're very perceptive."
Spencer shrugged, trying not to appear too flustered by your casual compliment. "It's what I do."
You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his reply.
"I'm a profiler."
"Profiler?"
"With the FBI."
"FBI, huh?" You hummed, something akin to intrigue swirling in your eyes. "So, you study criminals? Trying to decipher their way of thinking, why they do what they do. Dissect their past history for any related trauma, maybe even pinpoint a psychological stressor that could trigger a criminal behavior, that kind of stuff?"
Upon hearing your response, it was Spencer's turn to be intrigued. "Exactly that kind of stuff. How did you...?"
Grinning sheepishly, you pulled a professional badge out of your pocket, holding it up in front of Spencer so he could see the emblem covering its surface.
"Edgewater Psychology Center," Spencer read the words aloud, understanding dawning on him as he found your eyes once more. "You're a psychologist."
"Guilty as charged."
Spencer couldn't fight off his amused smile. "That explains it, then."
"You know," you began, leaning further against the bar counter to shorten the distance between you and Spencer, "I've never met a profiler in person before. Most of my colleagues, they have consulted on a federal case at least once in the past few years, but the bureau hasn't yet contacted me so far."
"Really?" Spencer took a step forward, closing the distance by a mere inch. "Sounds like a big loss for us. We're idiots."
You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a smile, your gaze flicking between Spencer's own lips and eyes. For the shortest of minutes, nothing else existed in Spencer's world but you; your smile, your scent, and your kind eyes. You were a magnet carved out of his wildest dreams, and Spencer, well, he might as well have been made out of the purest of irons.
But before Spencer could get lost deeper in your relentless gaze, a shout of his name slashed through the air from across the bar. Back at the booth, Derek was waving his hand frantically in the air, stopping only when Spencer signaled him to sit back down and that he was returning in a minute.
"I have to go." He smiled tentatively, apologetically.
"Oh?"
Spencer tried not to revel too much over the small dip of disappointment at the edge of your voice.
"My friends. They, uh--"
"Oh, no, it's alright. You don't have to explain," you told him gently. "See you around, Mr. Profiler. Hope you have a great night."
With that said, you went back to watching the live feed on your tablet while Spencer, begrudgingly, trudged across the room with two refilled beer glasses in his hands, back to where his friends--minus Rossi and Hotch who were conversing among themselves at one of the standing tables--were waiting.
"Finally," Derek groaned once Spencer slammed the glasses down on the table.
"Who was that?" Emily asked as he slipped into the booth.
"Huh?" Spencer followed Emily's gaze, finding you perched up at the very end of it. "No one."
"No one?" Emily's eyebrows rose. "She didn't seem like no one from where I was sitting."
Spencer took an insanely large sip of his leftover beer.
"Holy shit, you like her, " Derek muttered. "He likes her. Pretty boy's got a crush."
"No, I don't."
"Yeah? Tell that to those red cheeks of yours." JJ chuckled.
Instinctively, Spencer touched his own cheeks as if he could physically feel the change of colors on his skin.
"I'm just tipsy," he tried to reason.
A collective scoff reverberated through the entire booth.
"What's her name, Spence?" JJ asked.
When a full minute ticked by without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment from Spencer, Penelope reached out and slapped the man right across his shoulder.
"Ow!"
"You didn't ask for her name?!" Penelope exclaimed.
"It didn't come up!"
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, Reid," Emily noted before sipping her margarita.
"Nope. I'm not having this. Not tonight. Look at me, Sunshine." Penelope grabbed Spencer's face in her hands, forcing him to stare directly into her glasses-rimmed eyes. "I'm not letting you spend the rest of the night like this. You will get your cute little tushy out there and talk to that girl. You will get her name and also her number, maybe even ask the nice pretty lady out while you're at it. Now, have I made myself clear?"
Spencer barely managed to swallow his nerves before he offered Penelope two tiny nods.
"Good. I don't wanna see your face back here if you're not at least pocketing her phone number. Now shoo."
Penelope sent Spencer flying across the bar with a dramatic stumble. By the time he reached your side, Spencer was nothing less than a stuttering mess and a thundering heart.
"Hi," Spencer breathed out once he found your welcoming eyes.
"Um, hi?"
"I'm Spencer."
"Okay... Spencer?"
"Reid. Spencer Reid." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's just... I realized while I was sitting over there--well, my friends actually made me realize--that I, uh, never got your name. Which, you know, of course I never got it because I didn't ask. So, I was coming here, wondering if maybe you'd like to give it... to me?"
You blinked once. Twice.
By the third blink, Spencer wished the earth would open up and devour him whole.
"You want my name?"
Spencer nodded.
"What are you planning to do with it?"
"Call you?" At your bemused expression, Spencer quickly elaborated, "Not call like call. I meant referring. Yep. That's it. Although, maybe if you want to, I would love to call you as well. Sometime. And perhaps, you know, ask you out... on a date?"
Spencer swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat. In front of him, you were pretty, even with the conspicuous scrutiny in your eyes as they assessed Spencer as if he was some sort of an enigma. Embarrassment burned hotter through his veins with every second that passed by. He was merely two exhales of breath away from dashing out of the door when you finally spoke up.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
Smiling, you produced an old receipt seemingly out of thin air and asked the bartender to lend you a pen, scribbling something down as soon as you had it between your fingers. When the tiny piece of paper emigrated to Spencer's hand, the Cheshire cat in him jumped out once he noticed the ten digit numbers written neatly underneath a name he could only assume as yours.
"Will that be enough, Spencer Reid?"
"For now," Spencer replied before grabbing his wallet and shoving the paper containing your name inside. "I'll call you."
"You better."
After Spencer's departure, you returned your attention back to the tablet in front of you. Barely five minutes later, though, your serene watching session was once again interrupted. Only this time, it was by the ringing of your phone.
"Hello?"
"Hi, this is Spencer."*
Surprised, you swiveled your head left and right, stopping once you spotted Spencer standing on the other side of the room. His eyes were trained towards you, and behind him, a booth of four people seemed to have directed their attention at you as well.
"Spencer?"
"I know this is very untoward," he began, "but would you like to go out with me?"
"Boy, you certainly don't waste any time at all, do you?"
"I believe it's called being efficient," he countered, making you laugh. "So, what do you say?"
"Sure," you answered, enjoying the way Spencer beam at you from across the room. "I would love to, Spencer."
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A breeze blew gently against Spencer's face, caressing the tendrils of curly hair that had fallen over his forehead. Diana's little fingers started to grip his tighter as the wind strengthened.
"Did you take Mommy on that date, Daddy?"
"Of course," Spencer replied, reminiscing the exact day when he had picked you up in your apartment, sweat glistening on his palm as he clutched the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. "We went to see a Mark Rothko exhibition at the National Gallery of Art, and before I took her home, we stopped by Wakey Bakey to buy some lemon tarts."
Diana gasped. "Wakey Bakey?!"
The little girl's reaction compelled a chuckle from Spencer's chest. "Yes, Pumpkin. Wakey Bakey."
"What happened after that, Daddy?"
"What do you think happened after that, Dee?"
"Um--" Diana pursed her lips, deeply lost in thought, "--did you become girlfriend and boyfriend?"
"Yes, we did."
"And you got married?!"
Spencer laughed at Diana's apparent excitement over the prospect of her parents getting married. "We did, yeah, eventually. After I proposed to her."
"Oh! Oh! The proposal!" Diana exclaimed, jumping up and down in the middle of the sidewalk without a care in the world. Spencer had to tug her back towards him before she could harm herself or the other pedestrians. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me about the proposal, Daddy!"
"You wanna hear the story about how I proposed to your mother?"
"Yes, please!"
Chuckling to himself, Spencer mumbled a quick fine before his gears had started turning towards a specific memory in his mind. Spencer was sure, even without his eidetic ability, there was no way he could have ever forgotten about the day in question.
The day you agreed to have him as your forever.
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Spencer had fallen in love with you during the first date, right around the time of yet another one of his animated ramblings, where instead of shaming him to shut the hell up, you had simply stared at him in awe and said, "You're pretty when you talk."
The young agent was sure he couldn't get rid of the blush adorning his cheeks for at least an entire week.
By the time the fifth date rolled around, Spencer was absolutely certain that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It wasn't a surprise, then, that a few weeks before your first anniversary came up, Spencer had pocketed a diamond ring with a promise of forever on the tip of his tongue.
Combing the courage to take this historical leap was easy. Difficult was trying to conjure up the perfect proposal plan that he would deem worthy enough for someone like you. There were no rooms for mistakes. Spencer wanted everything to be perfect because he believed you deserved nothing less.
Which was why, in moments of desperation, Spencer ended up turning to his fellow teammates in the FBI for help.
"I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about this, Spence. Will only ever proposed to me after finding out about Henry, and we only got married after I thought he was gonna die on the field," JJ explained. "It was never the most ideal of situations, but I would never change a thing even if I could."
Unsatisfied with JJ's answer, Spencer proceeded to find the BAU's tech genius in her bat cave.
"Go big or go home, my friend," Penelope said following a 10-minute hysteria she erupted into upon learning about Spencer's intent to propose. "Splash out on the bottle. Don't hold back on the grandeur. Spend all of your savings if you have to."
"Garcia--"
"Fine, maybe not all of your savings. You should leave some for the wedding."
Spencer spent weeks mulling over Penelope's advice.
Working as an FBI agent didn't pay as well as most people thought it would, and Spencer's tendency to collect first edition books wasn't exactly an affordable hobby. It meant that as much as Spencer wanted a proposal filled with the greatest grandeur--just as Penelope had suggested--he didn't have a fat enough balance in his bank account to make his ideal proposal concept a reality.
And Spencer probably would have spent the limited fund in his savings down to its very last cent, had it not been for Derek catching him browsing through the internet for the cost of a hot air balloon ride.
"I just want to give her the perfect proposal," Spencer admitted after he finished revealing everything.
"Kid, it doesn't matter," Derek said. "Don't you see? She doesn't care about hot air balloons or any kind of grandeur. She only cares about you. There's no such thing as a perfect proposal. You're just using it as an excuse to put off asking her 'cause you're scared of what she's gonna say. But you don't need to. You two are so devastatingly in love, it's disgusting."
In the end, grandeur wasn't even present in the room when Spencer decided to pop the question.
On that particular night, Spencer arrived in his apartment just a few minutes before midnight. His aching muscles were calling for sleep as he toed his shoes off, but his footsteps soon ceased when he caught sight of his dimly lit living room.
You were fast asleep on the couch, face illuminated by the television light. Spencer's movements were careful as he knelt in front of you, studying the soft and hard edges of your features like historians would an ancient scripture. He couldn't help it when his fingers reached out on their own accord, brushing the softest of touches against the high point of your cheekbone. Inside its cage, Spencer's heart started to stir.
You were so beautiful.
Even after one year of being together, Spencer was often still taken back by how lovely you were. He adored every detail of your being, most fervently the scars that littered your skin in a constellation of stars. All of the places in your body where your scrutiny had wandered in a fleet of insecurity were the same places that Spencer wanted to worship for the rest of his life. In his eyes, you were eternally magnificent, and this thought clouded Spencer's mind as he went to shake your shoulder gently.
"Spencer?" Your groggy voice sounded meek in the comfort of Spencer's apartment, the same one he had been sharing with you since you moved in three months prior. Your lips tilted with the tiniest hint of a smile at the sight of him, and Spencer thought he would melt when your fingers instinctively reached for his face. "You're back."
"I'm back," he confirmed, leaving a trail of kisses on your palm. "Why aren't you in bed, my love?"
"I was waiting for you," you admitted. "I have something to say."
"Really? Me too."
"Hm?" Curiosity flared in the center of your eyes. "You first."
Smiling, Spencer leaned down to steal a quick kiss before saying, "Marry me."
Your breath hitched.
After a few seconds of silence, your nervous laughter filled his ears. "Right. That's a nice one, Spencer. Very funny."
"I'm not joking, sweetheart."
Spencer reached into the inside pocket of his satchel, pulling out the velvet box that had weighed down his bag by several grams for the past few weeks. Any remnant of sleep you still had in your eyes was instantly washed away the moment he opened the box to reveal a pretty ring sitting inside.
"I've had this for a while now," Spencer admitted. "I kept putting off asking you because I believed I wanted everything to be perfect, until Derek knocked some sense into my head and made me realize that I was just afraid of taking the leap. He's right, as always, but don't tell him I said that."
Spencer paused at your teary laugh, relishing in the melodic sound that made his heart nearly burst in two. "My love, I don't need the perfect proposal when you're the promise of a perfect life. Any life with you is the one I want to live for the rest of my time, and I want to start living that life from this point onward. What do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?"
Spencer never thought the word yes could sound so incredibly spectacular.
The celebration had started right away, commemorated by the shedding of clothes from each other's bodies, finalized by panting breaths and entangled limbs beneath rumpled sheets. You lay on the bed with your palm on Spencer's chest, his own hand tracing invisible patterns on the vast canvass of your skin.
Spencer watched as you stared at the ring circling your finger. "Do you like it? We can exchange it for a new one if--"
"Spencer Reid, don't you dare."
"Apologies, ma'am." He grinned, continuing the random patterns he was drawing on your skin before he spoke again, "By the way, you said you also have something to tell me."
You looked up at him with a blinding smile before scooting out of Spencer's arm and reaching for the nightstand. When Spencer saw what you had rummaged out of the bedside drawer, Spencer thought his heart had forgotten how to beat.
"Is that--"
"Surprise," you murmured giddily, handing over the object in your hand into Spencer's awaiting palm. "I found out yesterday, but I wanted to tell you in person."
Spencer sat up on the bed, staring with disbelief at the small item in his hand. He only realized he had started to cry when a drop of tears fell down, blurring the two tiny pink lines in his vision.
"This is... you're..."
"I'm pregnant, Spencer," you professed.
Just an hour earlier, Spencer thought the word yes was the best thing he could ever hear falling from your mouth. But as he held you in his arms, his lips catching yours once more in a heated kiss, Spencer realized that you had many more surprising admissions waiting to be said out loud.
And Spencer couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life listening to every single one of them.
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"Daddy, are you saying I was already in Mommy's belly when you proposed to her?"
"Yes, you were, Pumpkin," Spencer said, smiling at the blatant curiosity in Little Dee's eyes. "You were a surprise we didn't see coming."
Diana's responding smile was a picture of satisfaction. The father-daughter pair continued to walk down the street until Dee's voice tore through the silence once again, "Daddy?"
"Hm?"
"I thought you said a man and a woman can only make babies after they're married."
Spencer's footsteps halted on the pavement.
The silence must have stretched for only a partial of a minute, but the expectant stare Dee was nailing against his face, along with the internal panic that had short-circuited Spencer's brain made it seem as if the world had skidded into a standstill. Frantic eyes darted everywhere for a chance at rectification, and Spencer couldn't stop the words from tumbling off his lips when he saw the worn-down sign of a florist up ahead.
"Dee, would you like to buy some flowers for Mommy?"
The little girl squealed an excited yes before skipping the few steps left towards the flower shop. Spencer let out a relieved breath at having narrowly escaped such a harrowing crisis.
Once Spencer stepped into the shop, a multitude of fragrances immediately enveloped his surroundings. Diana was lingering back and forth around the vibrant displays when Spencer approached, her tiny eyebrows frowning in the most adorable way as she assessed the rows of flowers in front of her.
"Have you decided yet, Pumpkin?"
"Can we get some of Mommy's favorites, Dad?" Diana requested, pointing her tiny finger at the display of flowers she knew to be your favorites. "And then we can add some of these daisies, too!"
Spencer couldn't fight the smile blossoming on his face as he asked the florist to assemble a bouquet made out of daisies--Dee's favorite type of flowers, the same one printed all over the dress she was wearing--along with your favorite flowers in the center. Diana stared in awe at the deft work administered by the florist, her mouth forming an "O" once the bouquet was wrapped and ready to go.
"Do you think Mommy will like them, Daddy?"
"I know she will, Pumpkin," Spencer answered earnestly, his memory replaying that first time he had come home bringing the same arrangement of flowers in his hand.
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Spencer came home to the apartment in utter disarray, and yet, it still was the best view that he had ever witnessed in his entire life.
Ever since his office was transformed into a nursery, the books he previously kept in there had to be relocated to the living area. Most of them had gone by now--some donated, and some others sold at second-hand bookstores--but piles of them still littered in various corners of the room.
Apart from his mountainous collection of books, small trinkets also covered every available surface of the place. From the empty nursing bottles in the kitchen sink to the breast pump on the counter, and the tiny socks on the coffee table to the pacifier jammed between the sofa cushions; every single one of them contributed to the mess that his apartment had become. Yet as he paused to inspect every inch of the place, Spencer couldn't find any other emotion besides warmth flooding his chest.
Muffled footsteps padded towards the living room before you appeared from the hallway with a freshly bathed Diana in your arms. As soon as your eyes locked with his, the crease between your eyebrows automatically vanished.
"You're home."
"I'm home." Spencer grinned before welcoming you into his embrace.
He stole a quick kiss from your lips before bending down to smother a 7-month-old Diana who yelped in glee when Spencer began attacking her with kisses all over her face.
"She's been fussy since yesterday," you told him. "I think she missed you."
"Did you, baby? Did you miss Daddy?" Spencer cooed. "I can take her for a few while you rest. You look tired. Are you feeling okay?"
"Gee, Spence. What a way to a girl's heart."
"You know what I meant, sweetheart."
"It's fine, Spencer. I just got a headache, but it's all better now that you're here."
Spencer smiled as he kissed your free knuckles. "If it's any consolation, you're still the most heavenly creature that I've ever laid eyes upon."
A sneaky laughter rumbled past your chest. "Fine. I'll let you go just this once," you said before letting Spencer take a yawning Diana into his arms.
As Spencer carried Dee towards the couch, you noticed a bouquet of flowers lying next to the kitchen sink in the corner of your eye. You glanced at the young genius with a discreet smile before aptly transferring the flowers into a vase.
"These are pretty," you commented, joining your family in the living room. You put the vase in the middle of the coffee table amidst the books and various baby clutters before dropping yourself against Spencer's side.
"They're your favorites."
"I know. As usual." You smiled affectionately. "And daisies. You've never bought me daisies before."
Spencer's eyes gleamed. "I bought the daisies for Dee."
"Oh?"
"I think daisies are gonna be her favorite."
"You do, huh?"
"One hundred percent."
Spencer's eyes looked up from Diana to you then, whose own gaze had been kept intently on your husband and daughter. Darkness embellished the area underneath your eyes, and Spencer couldn't help but count the lines of fatigue that seemed to have multiplied on the contours of your face. Even then, Spencer thought you had never looked more stunning than you did at that moment; as his wife, the mother of his child, and the woman who owned the sole reign of his heart.
Confusion wandered into your eyes when you noticed Spencer's stubborn stare. A surprised squawk escaped your lips as Spencer unexpectedly captured them in a rather long kiss. When he pulled back, Spencer looked the very image of a man who was drunk on love.
"I love you. You know that, right?" Spencer confessed as he squeezed your hand twice in his palm.
"Spencer, what's going on with you?"
"Nothing. I just--" he paused for a chuckle, seemingly trying to find the right words to say before he could continue, "--I owe my life to you, sweetheart. For all of the times you have pulled me out of the darkness, to the light you've brought into my life. You and Dee are the reason I keep on breathing. Without the two of you, I'm nothing."
"Spencer," you breathed out. "Where did all of this come from?"
"I don't know." He shook his head. "I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to have you in my life and that you've brought Dee into ours. Everything worth fighting for about me is because of you."
The telltale signs of tears began to cast a shadow over your eyes. You pressed your hand to Spencer's cheek, feeling the rugged sensation of his newly shaved stubble stroking your skin. Spencer melted into the warmth of your touch.
"You're giving me far too much credit here, Spencer," you whispered. "Everything you are has always been your own doing rather than mine. All I ever did was cheer you on from the sideline. You would still have become the person that you are today even if I weren't in your life."
Spencer physically shuddered at your last statement. "Don't say that. I can't even begin to imagine a life without you in it."
"Well, even if such day does come, when I won't be a part of your life anymore, I know you're gonna be just fine. Because you'll have Dee with you--" you stroked Diana's head lovingly, "--and I know that the two of you will give each other enough love and strength that you won't even notice I'm not around anymore."
The frown on Spencer's face deepened.
"You're not allowed to leave me. Ever," Spencer decided childishly.
"Fine. I won't. But you have to remember--" you brought your palm towards Spencer's chest, feeling each rhythmic thrum of his heart which seemed to flutter ever so slightly underneath your fingers, "--I'll be right here if you need me. Always."
Spencer's own hand landed on top of your hand, entwining your fingers together without ever tearing his fierce gaze away from yours.
"Always."
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The sun was shining down in flimsy rays when Spencer and Dee finally walked past the familiar gate. Glimmers of gold sneaked past the reddish leaves on branches before falling upon the ground.
Next to him, Diana was humming a melody that Spencer recognized from one of your specially curated playlists. Her little hands struggled to carry the gigantic bouquet that she couldn't wait to present to you. It didn't matter that the bouquet itself was nearly as tall as she was, Diana still refused to let Spencer assist her.
"I wanna give Mommy the flowers myself," she had told Spencer in a manner that reminded him too much of your own stubbornness.
After a couple more minutes of walking, Spencer's reverie was soon broken by the excited squeal coming from the little girl beside him.
"Mommy! Mommy!"
Diana dashed into a sprint before words of warning could fall from Spencer's lips. He watched intensely as Diana's little feet moved upon the ocean of fallen leaves on the ground. Her tight grip around the bouquet never wavered even when she ran up the grassed hill, all the way towards the destination in her mind.
All the way towards the headstone with your name written on it.
When Spencer finally got there, Diana was kneeling next to your grave with panting breaths, but the smile stretched on her lips was the biggest one that Spencer had ever seen.
"Hi, Mommy. I'm back with Daddy," Diana announced. "Daddy, go say hi to Mommy."
"Hello, my love." Spencer smiled before taking a seat next to his daughter.
"We brought flowers, Mommy! They're your favorites. I added daisies to make them prettier." Diana beamed before putting the bouquet against your headstone. "You're not gonna believe what happened in class yesterday!"
As Diana animatedly began to recount the funny incident in her classroom--somehow involving a boy named Patrick and a cup of slushie--Spencer watched over her with a permanent smile on his lips. The little girl loved to talk--a trait she obviously acquired from both of her parents--and Spencer knew just how much you used to adore listening to Dee's rambling at any time of day.
It must have been at least ten minutes later when Diana's story eventually whirled to an end. Her attention instantly shifted to the family who was paying their own respect just two headstones over, a small squeak of puppy tumbled from Dee's lips before she dashed towards the boy with a golden retriever pup beside his legs.
Spencer shook his head affectionately at his daughter's antics.
"I know we were just here a couple of weeks ago, but Dee wanted to tell you about the slushie incident herself," he said. "And, well, I can never deny the chance to visit you, love."
A loud laughter boomed a few feet away. Spencer watched as Diana ran around jubilantly with the little boy and his dog. The boy's father waved at Spencer from the distance, which he replied with an acknowledging nod.
"She's getting so big, sweetheart. Sometimes, I just wanna stop time and keep her as my little girl forever. I wish you were around to see how much she's grown." Spencer smiled ruefully. "I can't believe that it's been more than a year since you were gone."
Spencer thought back to the last few moments you spent on this earth. How just a few months prior, the doctor had advised you to stop the treatment and take a rest at home instead.
The chemo isn't working, was what the doctor was really saying. You should be spending as much time as you can with your family.
So, that was exactly what you ended up doing.
Spencer had quit his job at the FBI shortly after you were diagnosed, opting to take a full-time job of teaching where the hours were more humane and reasonable. The day you were discharged from the hospital, Spencer made a vow to himself to make every day as memorable as he could, and he was keeping true to it. Those last few months were filled with countless road trips, an unforgettable weekend at Disneyland, and visits to various museums across the states. Spencer made sure that each day was charged with love and laughter, a perfect day culminated by an equally perfect night, with you falling asleep in the safety of his arms.
Until one morning, when Spencer woke up to your cold and lifeless body lying by his side.
"Do you remember what you told me once? About how Dee and I would never notice you were gone because we would have each other?" Spencer recalled. "You were wrong about that, sweetheart. Your absence is the first thing I notice every time I start my day. The moment I open my eyes, I notice that you aren't lying next to me on the bed like you're supposed to be. I notice the cold imprints on the sheets where your warmth used to linger. I notice you in every corner of our home, but most importantly, I notice you in Dee."
Spencer glanced at his little girl, playing and running around a pile of fallen leaves with her newfound friend and his pet dog. His heart floundered at the scene.
"Everyone keeps saying that she's an exact copy of me, but I see glimpses of you in her more and more every single day," Spencer admitted. "She's the only anchor I have left now, my love. Without her, I'm lost. I try constantly, with whatever strength still resides in me, to give her everything she would ever need. Shower her with every ounce of love I have left in my heart."
A lone tear cascaded down Spencer's cheek. He quickly erased it away with a wry chuckle.
"What I would do to have a minute with you again, my love. I hope you know I'd give my heart and soul to have those extra sixty seconds just to stare at your beautiful face. To hold you in my arms one last time. I try my best to fill the void that you left for Dee's sake. Some days are difficult, and I keep thinking about how much better it would be--how much better off she would be--if it were you here with her instead of me. I'd trade places with you if I could. I fear that all of me would never be enough for her, because she needs you. We both do."
Spencer inhaled a breath, forcing the imminent wave of tears from breaking the dam he had masterfully crafted since the moment you were gone. He promised a long time ago never to allow the grief to consume him.
He still had his daughter to think about.
"I'm beginning to think people are wrong when they say time makes everything better. The pain never lessens. It just becomes bearable with time. Dee makes it bearable," Spencer confessed. "I can only hope I'm doing the same for her."
"Daddy! Daddy!"
Spencer hurriedly wiped away any sign of tears from his face before he caught Diana in his arms. Her innocent laughter was a balm to the gaping wound in his chest, and Spencer allowed himself to bask in the bliss that his little girl brought to his life.
"What is it, Pumpkin?"
"Look what Brian's mom gave me!"
Spencer looked at her tiny hand to see a plastic daisy ring gracing one of her fingers. He looked up towards the family in the distance, mouthing a thank you to the mother who waved him off with a smile.
"It's very pretty, Dee."
"Like me?"
The young dad chuckled. "Yes, very much like you."
"Like Mommy, too?"
Spencer's smile softened. "Very much like Mommy, too. Yes."
The exhilarated smile Diana rewarded him could probably light up the entire state of Virginia at night.
Five minutes later, Spencer found himself bidding you a goodbye, with Diana promising to visit again very soon to give you an update over the slushie incident that supposedly got Patrick in a lot of trouble at school. The air was getting even chillier as the two walked the path they had taken after arriving at the cemetery. Spencer tugged Diana closer to his side once he saw the familiar gate lurking a few feet ahead, keeping her safe while simultaneously seeking her warmth.
"Daddy?" Dee's voice arose shyly once the pair had reached the main street.
"Yes, Pumpkin?"
"I miss Mommy," she admitted quietly.
Spencer's fingers instinctively tightened for a split second around his daughter's hand. "I know you do, Pumpkin. You just need to remember, even if she's not physically with us anymore, that she's always watching over you and keeping you safe."
Diana nodded her head understandingly. "Do you miss her, too, Daddy?"
"Every day, Dee." Spencer smiled, glancing back towards the gate of the cemetery behind him. "Every single day."
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nini123 · 4 months ago
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the whole point of tags is to find what you want to read... so please stop putting the fluff tag when it's actually smut 😭🙏🏼
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pathologicalreid · 5 months ago
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a special occasion | S.R.
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moving your daughter into a toddler bed brings about some interesting conversation
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: mom!reader, dad!spencer, the f word, talks about having another baby but not necessarily suggestive, extremely accurate emily prentiss characterization word count: 1.36k a/n: this is the spencer reid dilf agenda: father's day edition! this entire fic was born from a headcanon that spencer is stupid good at building ikea furniture. also, this is technically the family from cryptic, but you don't have to read that fic to know what's happening here. it's just easier than making/naming a new baby every time.
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“Emily started trying to teach her to swear,” Spencer told you, pulling a bag of screws out of the cardboard box splayed on the floor in your toddler’s room.
While he started to check whether or not all of the pieces were there, your eyes followed your daughter as she ran around the room, pulling each toy out of her toy box and setting it on the other side of the room. “I think we should consider ourselves lucky that Em waited until she was two to start her campaign,” you responded, thanking your daughter as she handed you a baby doll.
The crib had already been taken apart and was ready to be stored in the basement, and the pieces that were organized on the floor would eventually create a toddler bed. Right now, the floor was just covered in wood and screws – tiny pieces that set your mom instincts on high alert. Looking at the pieces, Spencer raised his head, “Hey, Nellie, can you hand me that screwdriver?” He asked your toddler, pointing at the screwdriver on the floor for her to grab.
You tried to hide your smile as Eleanor picked up the wrench from the floor and proudly presented it to her father. He thanked her, and as she toddled back to her toy box, you slyly passed the screwdriver to your husband. “Welcome,” she said softly, “welcome, welcome, welcome,” she echoed.
After reading about how important it was to involve your toddler in setting up their big kid bed, you and Spencer set out to include Nellie in every step. She picked the bed frame, the sheets, and everything she could possibly need for the bed. “Did you tell Emily not to teach her swear words?”
“Of course I did, but I’m pretty sure she started up again when I left the room,” he informed you, using the screwdriver to attach two pieces of the base together.
Humming, you glanced over to Eleanor, “I’d have thought Derek would be the one to start it,” you muttered, watching as she ducked her entire head in the toy box, obviously looking for a particular toy.
Spencer continued working on putting the pieces together, faltering in his movements as Nell made her way back to where the two of you were sitting. She made her way around the bed parts and unceremoniously sat down next to her father, her pigtails – his handiwork – bouncing as she plopped to the ground. “Hi princess,” he greeted, taking a moment to hug her into his side before returning to his construction work.
Eleanor happily waved the wooden hammer she had retrieved from the toy box in the air, “Help daddy,” she offered giddily, kicking her feet as she watched him complete another step in the process.
“Here, can you hammer this right here?” He asked her, pointing to the part he had just fastened, having her hammer at the screw – she was none the wiser. “Good job,” he praised her before reaching over for the next piece.
Furrowing your brow, you watched him work as Nell hammered at the carpet in front of her, “You’re not even reading the instructions.”
He shrugged, “I looked at them before I started, but I don’t need them,” he said casually, adjusting his arm as Eleanor leaned into him.
You rolled your eyes, “Don’t tell me you can just visualize the way the pieces go together in your giant brain.”
“Okay,” he answered simply, a small smirk sprouting on his face, “I won’t tell you that.”
Groaning, you laid back on the carpet and stared up at the ceiling, “I have been building furniture for years and you’re telling me I could’ve just handed it off to you?” Every bookshelf you had put together while he was off on a case, you could’ve just saved it for him.
Nellie had started creating a song about her love of hammers, continuing to hammer at the floor. “Oh, hey, be careful,” Spencer said gently, “those screws are sharp,” he told her.
Your head snapped up to see her reaching out for the pile of screws on the floor, and Spencer was doing his best to redirect her to the bolts. “Sharp,” she echoed solemnly, leaning back and holding her hammer with both hands.
“Can you say hammer?” You asked, pointing to the apparatus in her hand.
Holding it up proudly, she gave you a toothy grin, “Hammer!” She fumbled over her “r” sound, but Spencer assured you that it was a skill that she had plenty of time to develop.
As Spencer finished putting the bed together, you continued asking Eleanor to name the bits and bobs around her bedroom. “You’re so smart, lovebug. You get your brains from your daddy,” you told her.
“But you’re pretty like your mama,” he instantly responded, not even looking up from what he was doing to talk you up to your daughter – as if the two of them didn’t have the same big, brown eyes.
You pulled yourself up to a sitting position, smiling as Nell stood up and walked over to you, “Mama,” she said, turning around and taking a seat in your lap. “Bed?” She asked, looking over at the spot where her crib used to reside.
Switching from the screwdriver to a hex key, Spencer smiled at the two of you, “Almost,” he answered.
Gently dropping a kiss on the top of her head, you smiled fondly down at your toddler, “Do you remember picking your new bed out?” You asked while you pointed at the frame your husband was nearly finished with and the pile of fresh sheets she had chosen.
Nodding slowly, Nellie watched Spencer place the mattress on the bed frame before inviting her to come try it out. He reached out his hand for her, and she took his index finger in her tiny hand before he helped her up on the bed, “What do you think Nellie?” He asked, straightening out her ladybug overalls from where they were getting twisted up.
“Big,” she answered, releasing her hold on his finger and laying down on the mattress. You checked the time on your phone to make sure she wasn’t missing a nap.
Spencer stood up, picking her up as he did so, he held her close, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “You started climbing out of your crib every night, so you got to upgrade to a big girl bed,” he explained to her. You shuffled over to grab the sheets and start making the bed. “Alright, did Aunt Emily teach you a new word last night?”
From the way she smiled at him, you knew the answer to the question and that she had been informed that Emily would get in trouble for teaching her the word, “Fuck!”
Clamping your hand over your mouth to stop from laughing, you heard your husband sigh behind you, “Did Aunt Emily tell you that you shouldn’t say that?”
“Speshul cay-shun,” she sounded out the answer as he let her down, she went back to the bed that you had just finished making. You helped her up on the bed and she proceeded to lay down on the comforter, patterned with multi-colored flowers.
While she explored her new bed, you stood next to your husband, “Shame we have no use for the crib anymore,” he murmured to you, snaking an arm around your waist.
Raising your eyebrows, you turned to look at him, “Oh, you are fishing right now, Spencer Reid.” You were half joking, half scolding as you beamed up at him.
Spencer placed both of his hands on either side of your waist, “I am merely stating a fact,” he said, feigning innocence.
“Pointedly, stating a fact,” you corrected him, “It’s definitely something to consider.”
“Fuck,” a small voice said from behind the both of you, causing your head to snap back to your daughter, who was now making snow angels on her new bed.
You cringed slightly, “Maybe we’ll revisit after we solve this issue.”
He looked fondly over at the toddler, “You have to admit, it is a special occasion.”
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