Summary: Spencer comes home to his partner and finds them still asleep. Request: Spencer comes home late from work and the reader is already asleep and Spencer just admires how beautiful they are and cuddles with them? - A/N: Just an excuse for Spencer to pontificate about his lover. Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Fluff Content Warning: None Word Count: 675
What did it mean to appreciate the quiet? Spencer had never been sure. After all, the silence was something so rare that he wasn’t convinced he’d ever experienced it before. Even at night, he would find himself humming along with the soft sounds of the fridge, the television, the lamp.
He had never found any need to be quiet because there was always something else to be heard. There was always a page to be turned, a floorboard to creak, or a yawn to be had.
But that night as he opens the door to your home, the clicking of the lock seems deafening compared to the peaceful serenity on the other side of sturdy wood. He hears the stark contrast of him and home, and he pulls his luggage closer to be sure that it would not disrupt the calm.
He tries to remember each creaky floorboard on his way to you. He plans his movements carefully, ensuring he is as silent as his shadow as he creeps through your halls without a peep. With a lightness to his fingertips and toes, he pushes the door to your shared bedroom open. He holds his breath as the sight comes into view. He watches, as silently and carefully as he’d come.
Your arms lay in front of you, reaching to the empty space where he should be. He notices the way you offer your palms to the nothingness without fear of what they’ll find. He sees the slow, steady rise and fall of your chest as you sleep and he finds an appreciation in the quiet.
As he steps closer, he curses the world for not being quiet enough to let you rest the way you deserve. He hates the weight of his own footfall, even though it doesn’t appear to wake you.
He knows in that moment that what he had to offer would never be enough. But still, he has to try. He has to strip the layers of rustling fabric as quietly as possible, all the while straining to keep his eyes on your sleeping figure. You would be fine without him keeping watch over your dreamland, but he does it, anyway.
Because there is something about the way that you sleep. It is the way your arms, though notably smaller than the walls surrounding you, still offer him a home. The soft curves of your body remind him of his childhood, of when he’d admired the mountaintops off in the distance. His fingers would follow every peak, every fall. He longs to touch you, too, but he decides that his memory would have to do for now.
For now, he would just watch you. Spencer would soak in the wonder that was your most innocent state.
And your eyes, albeit closed, reassure him that there is something beautiful to be found in the absence of your voice. The same way that you are beautiful when you are awake. That breathtaking type of wonder, that absolute impossibility that is each imperfection. Every freckle, wrinkle, or crease carved by something greater than any scientist could ever hope to comprehend.
He hopes that he will never understand, that he will never grow tired of seeing how you change. He wants to memorize every iteration of you that he has the privilege to witness.
Despite having loved you for eternity, he falls in love with you again. But Spencer fights the urge to fall to his knees before you. Instead, he climbs into the sheets and is amazed to find that you still do not wake. Instead, your lips curve into a small smile.
Glassy eyes follow that shift, they flow down your figure until they land on your hands. Your hands that are still reaching out to him in the darkness, palm open and hoping, even when you are asleep.
Your hands reach for him in the darkness without fear of what the future holds, because you know that he would take your hand.
Summary - On one of his thirty day mandatory leaves, Spencer discovers an odd fascination with rom coms. And then he meets you and he feels like he’s living one. But not all romantic comedies have a happy ending, will his?
A/N - this is for the babe that is @andiebeaword who requested meeting for the first time, ⚠️ a love triangle, a character making their final choice, ✨ friends with benefits, unrequited love. Heavy on the rom coms, title is play on “Definitely, Maybe.”
Content Warnings - lots of talk of rom coms (not really a warning), making out, swearing, fingering, protected sex, handjob, mentions of oral (m receiving), Spencer’s insecure thoughts, mild self hatred, mentions of prison, mentions of past drug addiction, brief mention of Maeve, tipsy BAU ladies, mentions of sexually forceful behaviour (not Spencer or reader).
Spencer Reid was not used to having Tuesday’s off work. Tuesdays spent wandering the streets of DC should be left to the unemployed.
But he’d agreed to the stipulation of his return to the BAU. Every hundred days he worked in the field he had to take thirty days off. Which was fine. When he was teaching.
But now it was summer vacation and Georgetown had closed its doors for the summer and Spencer had nothing to do and nowhere to be.
He’d begged Prentiss to let him work through summer but she was unwavering.
Most people would have loved a month off work this time of year, but not Spencer. Spencer needed to keep his mind active and keep himself busy to stop from dwelling on his time spent at Milburn.
He was ten days in, not even halfway, and he was bored.
He’d exhausted his book collection so he kept buying more and more books until he didn’t have any room in his apartment left to store them.
He’d brought a second hand TV and gotten a Netflix account at Garcia’s instance. He watched some true crime shows which were kind of interesting.
He watched a couple of movies that he would never admit to watching. Then he watched a couple more of the same genre.
And that’s how Spencer Reid came to find that he had an odd fascination with romantic comedies.
Series Summary - you and Spencer’s marriage is on the rocks when a local case has the BAU convinced Spencer is a target. Forced together into witness protection, what will happen to your marriage upon discovering your husband wasn’t a target, but in fact the killer. Spencer needs a shelter from the storm and you have to decide how far you’re willing to take the sentiment of “til death do us part.”
Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader
Category - angst and smut, happy ending (minors DNI)
Content Warnings - swearing, slight voyeurism, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, startling realisations, cleaning up a crime scene, burying a body, mentions of PTSD, disassociated states, DID, brief mention of 2.17 Distress, mentions of sexual abuse, slight blackmailing type behaviour, arguing, aggression, mentions of reader and Luke, confessions of feelings, drinking.
You had every intention of talking to Spencer about what you’d found when he got home from work.
But after a long day of pretending to be Adam Atwood, Spencer Reid wanted nothing more than fuck you senseless.
And who were you to complain?
You knew eventually you’d have to talk about it but maybe you were a little too quick to dismiss the conversation in lieu of taking your clothes off because you wanted to bury your head in the sand a little longer.
You didn’t want to forceSpencer to talk about what happened to him. And maybe you were too scared to find out what might happen if you did.
So you let him fuck you up against his bedroom window which you both knew for a factthat nosy Karen would be able to see you from her hiding spot behind the curtains.
Emily had specifically warned you to keep your heads down and not to make waves. But it was so difficult to do when your neighbour was a world class bitch.
“Do you think she gets off on it?” Spencer asked as he pounded you into the glass.
Request:Spencer’s daughter tries to tell him that she’s “not a baby anymore.” He doesn’t take it too well.
A/N: I’M FREAKING BACK, BABY! It has been so long and I’m so very sorry. Here is some tooth-rotting fluff for y’all because I love you. I actually wrote this for the lovely @thekatherinewinchester as a part of @imagining-in-the-margins fic swap, and it was SO fun to write. It also really helped me to have a deadline. I think I’m going to try to do that more often!
Please leave feedback if you have any! Lots and lots and LOTS of love, as always.
Category:FLUFF
Content Warning:None
Word Count:1.7K
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The first time our daughter attempted to assert her independence, she had just turned 6 years old.
A morning routine with two young children was often chaotic, to say the least. However, the first day of school was always a special one. For some reason, something about this particular September morning made me extra grateful and reflective, even among the disarray.
1 ½ year old Grayson sat in his highchair, babbling nonstop. Though he had only just started eating his applesauce, it completely covered his face and arms. Before I knew it, he was using his spoon to fling the food onto the floor.
Was that an issue on the top of my priority list right now? Nope.
Ava sat at the kitchen table, swinging her legs and eating her cereal with the enthusiasm of an excited 1st grader. Her polka dot dress and matching headband were neatly and meticulously adjusted, revealing the hidden nerves within her initial excitement.
The small TV on the counter was tuned into the local news, though no one ever really listened. Even if anyone wanted to pay attention, Grayson’s babbling would probably drown it out anyway. It was mostly just background noise. But, selfishly, I liked to know the state the world was in before my husband left our home each morning to go make it better, safer. I liked to at least have some idea of what he was going to encounter, even if it meant certain days were filled with anxiety and worry.
Dealing with the unease and stress was a small price to pay for the unceasing love and immeasurable happiness.
To be honest, I never imagined a world where I’d be simultaneously getting our children ready for the day and scrambling eggs for Spencer as he slept in after a long night of work. I never imagined his severe, draining job would let us have even a sliver of happy domesticity. But, as I scraped the last of the eggs onto his now-full plate, I reflected on how lucky the universe had deemed us. This shouldn’t be a reality, and yet, I couldn’t imagine our life together any differently.
“Mama?” The voice of my sweet girl snapped me out of my reflective moment.
“What is it, Ava?” I asked, momentarily pausing my motions. She turned around in her chair to face me, eagerness lighting up her small face.
“I’m really excited to go back to school.”
I couldn’t help but smile. She truly was her father’s daughter in every capacity.
“I’m so glad! You’re going to have an amazing day!”
Her bright, golden eyes sparkled, and she turned back to finish her cereal.
Spencer would definitely be up soon. There was no way he was going to miss the sendoff of his favorite girl on her first day of 1st grade.
There wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that Ava was going to blow all of her teachers away. I insisted on keeping her in kindergarten for her first year of school so she could make friends and get used to that type of social environment, but now that she was starting more difficult content, I knew all bets were off. She was absolutely going to skip grades, make breakthroughs, and undoubtedly change the world.
But, thankfully, that was a conversation for another day, and one Spencer was undoubtedly going to have to help me through.
At that very moment, my sweet husband rushed into the kitchen, fastening his tie as he jogged. Even in his disheveled haste, the elation in his face and pep in his clumsy steps revealed that he was just as excited about this day as Ava, if not more.
Grayson babbled in the happiest tone he could muster at the sight of his daddy, and I couldn’t help but smile right along with him.
“Good morning, buddy!” Spencer smiled, crouching to meet Grayson’s eye level and pinch his chubby, applesauce covered cheek.
The tiny gesture took me back to a time when Spencer’s cares and worries were much different. Back then, he would never have thought to voluntarily reach for the grubby face of an infant, no matter how cute. But, six years and two kids later, this was a beautiful reminder of how much we had both changed, and how lucky we were to grow together and not apart.
However, in true Spencer Reid fashion, as soon as he was done making silly faces at our son, he padded over the sink to rid his hands of the sticky, grimy applesauce.
Everything may be different now, but some things never change.
As I packed Ava’s lunch, I felt his eyes on me from behind. Before I knew it, he lightly turned me away from my task and wrapped his arms completely around me, leaning down to rest his head on my shoulder.
“Thank you.” He softly whispered.
Forgetting the rush of the morning for a moment, I let myself sink into the embrace. For though our lives plowed forward at seemingly a million miles an hour, moments like these kept me grounded, sane.
“For what?” I asked.
“The extra sleep. The food. The babies. Everything.”
The case they returned from last night must have been a nasty one. Spencer was a very affectionate person, but something about this profession felt heavier.
Nevertheless, even after so many years, he still had the ability to make my heart skip a beat.
I pulled back from the hug to smile up at him, running my hands up his arms to get lost in his hair. His eyes reflected utter joy and gratitude, despite the fact that he had undoubtedly seen some horrifying things for the past few days.
“I love you so much.” The words flew out before I could stop them. Of course, I meant them with my whole heart, the phrase just seemed so mundane compared to my ever-growing, aching love for him.
The love in his eyes and sparkle in his smile told me he knew. He always knew.
He pressed a slow, firm kiss to my lips, hands coming to rest gently on my hips as we slowly swayed together.
“I love you too.” He whispered, and before I could fully savor it, the restless world started turning again.
Stealing moments with him would forever make my heart sing, but today needed to be about our sweet girl and nothing else. After all, according to her the first day of 1st grade marks the “beginning of the true educational journey.” Lord knows we couldn’t miss a second of that.
Spencer quickly walked over to the plate I had ready for him, setting it across from Ava at the table and kissing her head as he passed.
“Good morning, baby! Are you excited for your first day?”
Ava was silent. I felt the air in the room change as she put down her spoon and looked up at him, features completely serious. Somehow, I knew what was coming before she even opened her mouth, and Spencer was not going to like it.
“Daddy. I am not a baby.”
As expected, Spencer choked on the small piece of egg he had just attempted to swallow. In spite of the sad punch of the reality that my sweet girl was growing up, I nearly snorted, covering my mouth with my hand so as to not offend her.
Spencer looked absolutely dumbfounded.
“But, you are technically my baby-” He attempted to explain.
Ava was not having it. She took a deep breath, pushing her bowl of lucky charms aside so she could fold her hands in front of herself on the table.
“The term ‘baby’ is applied to infants from birth to the age of 1, and then sometimes to toddlers from ages 1 to 4. I am 6 now, daddy, so technically I have already let you get away with it for an extra year.”
Oh, my girl. What a little firecracker she was. No one in the entire world besides her could silence Dr. Spencer Reid with one sentence.
Spencer sat there at a loss for words, fork still in hand, clearly trying to formulate a coherent sentence.
“But…”
The school bus pulled up in front of our house with impeccable timing.
“Ava honey, the bus is here!” I gladly interrupted, shoving the lunchbox into her backpack and zipping it up.
Her poor father. I had never seen his jaw drop for so long before.
But, as always, there was no time to unpack in the current moment. That would have to be a later conversation.
Ava excitedly got down from the table, running to put her dishes in the sink before grabbing her backpack and putting it on with complete elation. I lifted Grayson from the highchair, quickly wiping off his applesauce-covered face with the ratty old t-shirt of Spencer’s I was wearing. By that time, Spencer had slightly snapped out of his trance in order to help Ava put on her sparkly converse shoes and matching coat.
The four of us were greeted by the autumn breeze as we stepped out onto the front porch. Spencer and I instinctively bent down to simultaneously kiss her cheeks, and she hugged our necks with the fervor of all the love in the world. She gave Grayson a small cheek kiss as well before turning away to start her new educational adventure.
“Have the best day, sweet girl!” I yelled after her as she sprinted down the driveway to the bus. She waved in reply. Though I couldn’t have been prouder of her, I couldn’t help but notice the new missing piece of my heart that seemingly got on the school bus with her.
It was at that moment that I realized Spencer hadn’t said a single word since his baby proclaimed otherwise. He still looked like he had seen a ghost.
“You alright there, old man?” I playfully nudged him with my shoulder, bouncing Grayson on my hip.
“But she… she is my baby…”
I smiled, knowingly, trying to hide the small pain that struck my heart at the thought of Ava growing up. There were no words I could say that would calm his racing heart in the moment. So, I held our smallest baby a little bit tighter and leaned up to lightly brush my lips against Spencer’s.
