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astrophileous · 7 months

Text

Every Single Day

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

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.

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."

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.

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.

"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.

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."

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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foxy-eva · 14 days

Text

Rite of Passage

Summary: Spencer is home alone with his daughter when she gets her period for the first time

Request: Spencer and Reader are married. They have a teenage daughter who gets her period for the first time (initially requested to @imagining-in-the-margins)

Pairing: Technically Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader but it’s mostly about Spencer and his daughter!

Category: Comfort, Fluff

Content Warnings: mentions blood, menstruation, period hygiene, cramps, female anatomy and biology, crying, food

Author's Note: I wrote this for @/imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic Writing Challenge!

Masterlist

Sunday mornings always brought a certain calmness with them. Spencer was still half asleep when you kissed him goodbye, leaving for a little day trip with your friends when the sun was barely up.

Spencer mumbled something that should have sounded like I love you before he closed his eyes once more, looking forward to some father-daughter quality time with your wonderful kid Marie.

That was until he was awoken by shrill screams coming from her room.

You were long gone when Spencer jumped out of bed, all of his years working with the FBI having him expect the worst. He rushed into his daughter’s room, finding her sitting in her bed, a look of horror spread across her face.

“Are you okay!?” Spencer almost yelled when he reached her bedside.

His daughter slowly shook her head while pulling back the blanket, revealing small blood stains on her pajama pants and the sheets. It only took Spencer a split second to realize what was happening. His facial features softened instantly.

He thought he still had a few more months, maybe even another year, until this would happen. He had also hoped that you would be home for this occasion, certainly handling this a lot better than he ever could.

“Oh sweetie,” he cooed while sitting down on the edge of her bed. “I think you got your period.”

Instead of saying anything, Marie just buried her face in her hands and started wailing. Spencer wasn’t sure if she was still in shock or if the general discomfort made her cry.

“It’s okay. It just means you’re becoming a woman.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could have taken them back. He hated the thought that his little girl was actually growing up more than anything. And it certainly didn't help in this moment.

Without thinking about it, he did what he was most comfortable with and started rambling, “We talked about this, do you remember? It means that your uterine lining is shedding which results in the discharge of blood through your–”

“Dad!” She cried. “Please stop talking about my… you know! It’s weird!”

“I’m sorry, I’ll stop.”

His little girl wiped away some tears from her cheeks before muttering, “Where’s mom? I wanna talk to her.”

Spencer sighed. He would have liked nothing more than to be able to let you take over right then. “She already left for her day trip. She won’t be home until six.”

This explanation only led to more crying. Spencer reached out his hand to offer comfort with a gentle touch on her arm but Marie shied away from him.

“I feel gross,” she whined.

“Why don’t you hop in the shower to get clean and then change into fresh clothes?”

It seemed like he finally said something helpful. Her sobs simmered down as she got up from her bed to walk over to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Spencer quickly changed the sheets and put out some clean clothes for his daughter before disappearing in his bedroom.

He let out a loud breath as he reached for his phone to call you. Before you could say anything, he blurted out, “She got her period and won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do!”

“Oh my poor girl! Is she with you right now?” You wanted to know.

“She’s in the shower. Can you please come home?”

You knew that he wasn’t being serious. A quiet laugh escaped our mouth before you said, “Don't be so dramatic, Spencer. I’m sure you're very capable of handling this.”

“I told her that her uterine lining was shedding. It was not helpful,” he sighed.

“Yeah, maybe hold off on the biology lesson for now. You know where my pads are, right?”

“Oh yeah, right. She's gonna need them.” Spencer paused for a second. “Oh god, what if she wants to use a tampon? I can’t explain that to her. That conversation will make the both of us cry.”

“Give her a pad for now, those are self-explanatory. I can talk to her about tampons later if she wants.”

“Okay, okay, yeah. She just turned off the shower, I gotta go!”

“Good luck! And stop panicking!”

That was easier said than done. Spencer almost jumped when he heard Marie knocking on the bedroom door.

“You can come in!”

His daughter, tightly wrapped in a bathrobe, stepped into the room. She had stopped crying but still seemed upset. Spencer’s heart always broke a little when he saw his little girl in discomfort.

“I’m still uhm…bleeding,” she whispered.

“Yes, that's gonna last a couple of days,” Spencer replied with a soft voice. He disappeared in the master bathroom for a second to get a pack of pads. “Here. Do you know how to use them?”

“I’m not an idiot, dad,” she snubbed.

The tone of her voice gave away how irritated she was. Usually Spencer would remind her to be more respectful but decided to let it slide this time.

“I know, Mimi. I just wanted to make sure,” he said instead.

The use of this nickname for his daughter was yet another reminder of a time that seemed so long gone right then. Marie had trouble pronouncing her own name as a toddler so she’d say Mimi instead. Spencer loved it so much that he stuck with it ever since.

Without saying another word, she disappeared in her room. Spencer rubbed his temples for a moment before getting ready for the day himself. He decided to give his daughter some space and prepare breakfast in the meantime.

He was focussed on not burning the chocolate chip pancakes he was making when Marie stepped into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” she mumbled.

Spencer turned his head to smile at his daughter. “It's okay, sweetie. I know you aren’t feeling well.”

She placed her hands on her lower stomach and muttered, “It hurts.”

“Here,” Spencer said as he reached for the hot water bottle he had already prepared. “Heat has a proven effect on relieving period cramps.”

“Thank you.”

A timid smile appeared on her face when she realized her father was preparing her favorite breakfast. She stepped closer to catch a glimpse of the pan while chirping, “Chocolate chip pancakes?”

“You know I’d do anything to make you feel better, Mimi,” Spencer spoke in a soft voice while offering his daughter a hug.

This time she accepted, tightly wrapping her arms around him. Spencer was relieved that he didn’t mess up yet another thing. Marie was very bright and realized something Spencer had thought about earlier, too.

“Wait,” she said as she stepped back. “You always make mom her favorite meal when she’s in a bad mood.”

“You have a lot in common with your mother, “ he explained. “I figured I should try what works for her.”

“Now you’ll have to deal with two cranky girls in the house,” Marie laughed while taking out two plates.

“I really don't mind,” he sincerely replied. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to have all kinds of uncomfortable side effects during your period. Taking care of your mom – and now you – is the least I could do.”

After a moment of silence she said, “Earlier you said that I’m becoming a woman now. I thought about that when I was in the shower… What if I don't wanna grow up yet?”

“I don’t know if that helps, but… You’ll always be my little girl,” Spencer responded while filling both plates with pancakes.

“So you’ll still watch Disney movies with me?”

A wide smile spread over Spencer’s face as he took the plates to walk over to the couch. “I was hoping you'd ask!”

Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @hotchandspencearedilfs @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @saturnstringz @missabsey @guacam011y @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @enamoradax @hales-17 @cham9ions @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @luredwithpretzels @castiels-majestic-wings @super-nerd22 @pleasantwitchgarden @yeonalie @r-3dlips @evvy96 @torigorie @meyaareads @luvdella @luvley2k @bunnylovesani

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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nickynclark · 2 months

Text

I'D BE ONE NOCTURNAL SON OF A GUN

Eddie Munson x Female! Reader

Word Count: 2,748

Content warning: SMUT (18+ only below the cut), no use of (Y/N), lowkey toxic parents, harsh language, mentions of drug use (mary jane, bby), mentions of reader being on birth control, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it for the love of god), choking and breeding if you squint.

Summary: Your parents hate Eddie Munson, and you just can't find it in you to leave the crazy haired freak.

Authors Note: Y'all this is porn with plot. And it's my first ever smut so pls be nice to me. I'll be publishing a Spencer Reid fic soon enough ;) Love ya! - nick

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Growing up, you were a perfect child. You did ballet and took piano lessons. You ate all of your vegetables. You got straight A’s. You played nicely with the other children.

So you can imagine your parents’ reaction when their perfect little girl told them about her friendship with Eddie Munson.

“That freak?” Your mom gasped, “my god, you must be joking.”

“Are you doing drugs with him?” Your dad quickly intervened.

You sat in front of them like a kicked puppy, quietly looking at your hands as they lectured you over Eddie.

You and Eddie met your freshman year of high school in chemistry class. He wasn’t good at english or science, and you were. You would help him do his homework (aka give him your answers) and he would let you sit with his odd ball friends at lunch. To you, rumors and all, he was lovely.

You two had been best friends for a long time, despite your parents' distaste. They even decided to set you up on a date with Steve Harrington your senior year: a sad attempt to separate you and Eddie.

It only lasted a week or two, and when you explained the situation to Steve, he understood. He was kind and promised to never let your parents know you even broke up.

“I could tell,” Steve said on your last date, “your head is always somewhere else. No sweat.”

To your parents, you are back to their perfect daughter. But everyday after school, when your parents think you're at a study hall, you're in the little room with a group of ‘freaks’, Eddie wearing the crown.

***

Eddie displayed the table in front of him, with only two characters left standing- yourself and Vecna.

“There is nothing wrong with running, sweetheart." Eddie's tone is cocky, "You can walk away now, everything will be okay.”

You squint up at him, “when have you ever known me to run?”

Eddie just laughs, signature smirk on his lips, “then roll.”

You grab the twenty sided die, fondling it in your hand. You roll the die between your fingers, a focused look on your face.

“C'mon! Just walk away,” Mike whispered, “if you roll then you can lose. Walking away isn’t a loss.”

“Shut up, Freshy,” you smile and elbow him in the side, “you’ve only been with me through one campaign. I never run away.”

You bring the die up to your lips and blow on it, keeping eye contact with Eddie through the process. He keeps his signature smirk on his face, but his eyes are nervous.

With a final smile, the die leaves your hand, rolling across the table, clambering it’s way down.

When it stops, Eddie looks down with a smile on his face, “natural twenty, sweetheart," he looks back up to you, "that's a hit."

The group at the table erupted into cheers, Dustin laughing at Eddie while pointing aggressively.

“Well done, Princess.” Eddie smiles and sits back in his throne.

After all the boys clear out, it’s just you and Eddie in the Hellfire room. Eddie let his smile falter as soon as they were gone; you knew he hated to lose a campaign, but it was always a little easier on him when you were the last man standing.

You walk towards him and stand in between his spread knees, “hi,” you look down at his slumped body, “hell of a campaign, you know. I was convinced I wasn’t going to roll right, you know my luck.”

Eddie looks at you shyly, “I know, Sweetheart. But I was really expecting a loss from you guys.”

“You always are, Eds.”

He smiles and sits up a little bit, “you’re right,” then he shifts himself to lean closer to you, “how’s Harrington?”

You step back from him with a small smile, “Done. He couldn’t handle me.”

Eddie sits up all the way, smirking, “no one can, Princess,” his hands lift to rest on your hips, “except me, my Queen of Hellfire.”

You laugh, “it was my call, though. He wasn’t my guy.”

“How so?”

You step back up into him looking down at him, “he’s not tall enough, he doesn’t have enough tattoos,” Eddie begins to stand up to tower over you, “he doesn’t smoke, and, most of all,” you move your hand to his hair, his face inches away from yours, “he doesn’t have good enough curly hair.”

Eddies breath hitches in his throat, clearly nervous and excited, and, when you almost gave in, your parent’s voice came into your head.

You back up from him reluctantly “It was a great campaign, Eds.”

And you walked out of the room listening for Eddie to call for you, but he never did.

Two days later, your parents were at church while you stayed home. Around 10 o'clock that morning, you heard a knock on the door. You quickly pulled your hair back and went to the front door. When you opened it, you were shocked to see Eddie standing in front of you, hair disheveled, still in his flannel pajama bottoms and a crinkled white shirt, smelling of weed and a his woody cologne.

He looked down at you as if you were a stranger before speaking, “why did you do that?”

“Eddie, why did I do what?”

“Friday. After Hellfire. Why did you do that?” He reached his hand up to rest on your cheek, “did you not know what you do to me?”

You stutter out an apology, “Eds, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it would upset you-“

“Upset me?” Eddie laughed, “Sweetheart, I need to know if it was a play. Did you mean what you said?”

You look into his chocolate eyes before finally giving in, lean into his warm touch, “yes, Eddie, god, yes, I meant every word.”

And then he kissed you.

The kiss was bruising, and the entire time you couldn’t stop thinking about how bad you needed to know how he tasted, and now you knew: a beautiful mix of mint and herb.

As you pulled away panting, he rested his forehead against yours.

“My parents will kill me if they see you here,” you tell him quietly through kisses.

He picked you up bridal style, kissing your forehead and whispering “I won’t let them,” while he carries you upstairs to your room.

You planted gentle kisses to his neck until he dropped you onto your bed, leaning over you and kissing you roughly. As he kissed you, his hands found their way to your hips and yours around his neck.

“Fuck, Princess, I’ve waited for this for too damn long,” Eddie whispered into your neck where he was sucking and biting, attacking the soft skin connecting your neck and shoulder.

You started to tug on his hair, “Eds,” and he pulled up and looked at you, “you are my perfect person.”

He smiled softly and kissed your lips, hands finding your pajama shorts and slipping his pinkie underneath the band, touching more of your bare hips. Your back arched up into his grip as his rings chilled your skin, and he smirked into your kiss.

“Eddie, please,” you whine to him.

“Please what, sweetheart?”

“Anything, Eddie, please.”

Eddie looks up at you before his hands fully grip your waistband, “are you sure?”

You lift your hips, begging, “yes, Eddie, god yes, please.”

He smirked, pulling down your sleep shorts, “easy, Tiger.”

As soon as your shorts are down your legs, you are pulling off the lace thong that conceals you from him.

When he notices this, he’s sliding down to the foot of your bed, grabbing your ankles and pulling you down with him. He makes easy work of spreading your thighs, smiling as he sees your already wet pussy.

“Damn, Sweetheart, is all of this for me?” He mumbles as he moves his hand up to spread your lips, getting a better view.

You whine at the contact, “yes Eddie, all for you.”

Eddie starts to plant open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs while he slowly slides one of his ringed fingers inside of you, watching you wiggle at the sensitive contact. He starts to suck deep purple bruises onto your thighs as he inserts another finger, quickly curling and scissoring them, smiling as you moan loudly at his doing, your hands finding their way to his hair.

“Eddie, god, babe, your mouth, please,” you whine loudly, causing him to bite down on your thigh.

“You want my mouth, darling? Want my tongue?” You whimper in response, “Words, baby.”

You huff loudly, “yes, Eds, I need your mouth on me.”

He licked a thick stripe up your opening to your clit, moaning at the taste. He took your clit it into his mouth and started sucking lightly, causing you to see stars.

He continued to eat you out like his life depends on it, his fingers finding their way back inside of you, working you closer and closer to your orgasm.

He adds one more finger, stretching you out so fully arounds his three large digits, and licking and sucking so feverishly you don’t know how much longer you can last.

“Eddie, baby, fuck-“ you moan, grinding on his tongue, “I’m going to cum. Fuck, can I come? Should I even be asking you?”

Eddie laughs at you rambling, sending a vibration through your pussy up to the knot in your stomach.

He keeps working you until your thighs are shaking and trying to close around his head. He works you into a mewling mess, and only then does he pull away just enough to say, “come on my tongue, princess.”

His lips reconnect with you, working you through your high, your moans loud until you finally come to a stop.

Eddie climbs up your body, kissing you feverishly, and you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Baby, you’re so sweet. Could eat you out forever.”

You smile and kiss him, sitting up, “your turn.”

He stands up, and you sink to your knees in front of him. He watches happily as you work his pants off of him, your eyes growing at the print of him in his boxers. He was long and thick, and had a glorious spot of pre-cum on the fabric. You connect your lips to the wet spot, moaning at the salty flavor.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie placed a hand on your cheek pulling you away from him, “we can stop at any time. You don’t have to do this.”

You smile up at him from your knees, “I want to. Stop worrying.”

He looks down at you lovingly, swiping your cheek with his thumb, “then, as much as I love how it looks on you, that hellfire shirt’s got to go.”

You raise your arms as he pulls it off of you, groaning at the sight of your braless chest.

You quickly pull down his boxers, admiring the beautiful cock in front of you. It’s thick and even longer than it looked when concealed. It has a vein running along the side of it, and his tip is a pretty pink color with a bead of pre-cum leaking out of his slit.

You lean in and place a quick kiss to his tip before taking it into your mouth, sucking softly on his cock, then quickly pulling off.

“Of course your cock would be pretty too,” you smile before licking a stripe underneath him, then taking him into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat.

He moans loudly, his hands gripping your hair as you settle on a tempo, occasionally popping off to breathe or spit onto his dick.

“Sweetheart, holy hell,” Eddie moans as you look up at him as innocently as you can with a mouth stuffed with his cock, “I can’t tell if you came from, fuck, heaven or hell with that mouth. I could have had this this entire time?”

You hum around him in agreement, causing him to moan again.

After a little while of constant sucking, a sore jaw, and hands gripping his thighs, he stills your head and begins fucking your face.

You gag around him at the intrusion, then you settle into the pace, meeting him half way.

“Fuck, darling, I won’t last. Sweetheart, god fuck-“ he pulls away from me before he’s able to finish.

“Why’d you-“

He smiles, “ I want to cum inside you for our first time,” he rushes over to his pants and feels the pocket, “shit. I left my wallet at home, do you have condoms?”

You shake your head quietly.

He sighs, “it’s okay, I’ll just-“

“I'm on the pill.”

He smiles, “you sure?” And you nod.

As he climbs on top of you, with a panicked look, he starts, “you promise this isn’t some weird way of getting child support out of me? ‘Cause selling weed doesn’t exactly pay the-“

You laugh loudly, “Hey, Eddie?”

“Hey, baby?”

You look at him with doe eyes, “wanna fuck me?”

He groans loudly, “God, I thought you’d never ask.”

He climbed on top of you, spreading your legs apart and lining his dick up with your slick hole, “you ready, sweetheart?”

You smile softly, “yes, please.”

As soon as you feel the tip of him slip inside of you, a loud moan leaves your lips, your eyes widening and your hands gripping Eddies back.

He rests his head on your shoulder, leaving soft kisses on your neck, “I know baby, I know. Tell me if it’s too much.”

He slowly pushes in further until he’s all the way inside of you, then he stills to allow you to adjust to his size.

His teeth sink into the skin of your neck as he grunts, "you're so tight, Baby."

You whimper at the praise, “God, Eddie, move, please god, fuck me.”

He didn't need any more convincing. His hips suddenly snap in and out of you with fever. The sound of skin hitting skin and your moans mixing together fills your small room.

Eddie bites and sucks on your chest, moaning at the sensation, “fuck, princess, 's like you were made for me. Can’t wait to ruin this sweet pussy of yours.”

As Eddie keeps talking, fucking you harder and faster, your head is spinning with ecstasy, moans slipping out of your mouth faster than you can stop them, until, quickly, Eddie pushes one of your knees to your chest, pushing himself even deeper inside of you.

“Fuck, Eds. Right there, baby! Shit!”

Eddie moves one of his hands to your throat, pounding into you rapidly, showing no mercy to your body.

“Eds, fuck! I’m gunna cum, can I please fucking cum?” Your moans echo around the small room.

Eddie holds onto you tightly, his thrusts becoming sloppy and irregular, “hang on, sweetheart, I’m almost there,” he thrusts quickly, “where do you want it?”

You drag your nails down his back, “inside me.”

“Are you sure?”

You moan, “yes! Eddie, please! Fill me up with your cum, please!”

He groans and thrusted once or twice more, “cum, baby, cum with me.”

The knot that built in your stomach untied as you felt hot spurts of cum filling you up. You let out loud whimpers of ecstasy while Eddie rocked you through it, whispering sweet praises into your ear.

As you finished, he rolled off of you, laying next to you on your bed.

“Wow.”

You giggle in agreement, “definitely wow.”

Suddenly, the front door slams open, “honey, we’re home!”

Your mom shouts through the house, causing you and Eddie to scramble getting dressed.

Your mom walked in just as you both got clothed, sitting on the bed with a magazine and him messing with his guitar pick necklace.

“Hi,” you say gently, as if Eddies cum wasn’t leaking out of you onto your light pink bed spread beneath you.

“Honey," her tone is sickly sweet, "what is he doing here?” She smiled tightly.

“Oh, him?” You point to Eddie, “we’re just hanging out. He is my boyfriend you know.”

Eddie looks at you shocked before a smirk settles on his kiss swollen lips, and he reaches out to hold your hand.

Your mom looks at you, her smile now a glare.

“You can either leave this man, or never see the light of day again.”

Eddie stood up and grabbed his shoes, preparing to leave. His lips sat in a frown.

He thought this was over.

“Hey babe?” You grab his arm.

“Huh?” He looked at you confused.

You give him a quick kiss and your mom gasps, “I’ll see you at sunset.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Taglist: @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @deadbolted

To join taglist just dm me!! i'm new here and would love some new friends!

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things smut #i need eddie munson biblically #eddie munson imagine

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 4 months

Text

You Are Not Him

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~800

Warnings: talk of abusive father (nothing explicit), angst

Request by @ashleighhelner: maybe reader has had a bad childhood relationship with their father and is struggling with the fact that they look like their father (strong genes or dna or something) and reid helps them through it a bit? or advice?

Summary: Your father has been released from prison and has reached out to you. No one on the team knows what he did to you and your mom, and Spencer is there for you no matter what.

Square Filled: "it's not an addiction. it's a coping mechanism." for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

“Coffee order? I’m making a run,” Spencer offers his best friend.

“Yeah, get me a hazelnut latte, triple shot.”

“Half-caf extra shot venti with two pumps of non-fat creamer and hold the whip caramel macchiato,” Penelope says after Derek.

“You got it.” Spencer moves to the bullpen where JJ and Emilg are gossiping. “Coffee run. Anything?”

“White with one splenda,” Emily says.

“Same but with no sugar.”

Spencer nods twice and leaves the two girls to go to Hotch’s office where Hotch and Rossi are. He knocks twice and opens it after he is given permission.

“Coffee run. Do you want anything?”

“Black is fine,” Hotch says.

“Espresso with two sugars. Thank you,” Rossi smiles.

“You’re welcome. Have you guys seen Y/N?”

“Last I saw she was headed to the file room.”

“Thanks.” Spencer heads in the direction where the file room is, passing by a couple of empty offices. He halts when he hears someone crying in one of the offices. He checks to make sure he is alone before knowing once. He opens the door to see you quickly wipe the tears from your face. “Are you okay?”

“What did you need?” you sniffle.

“I’m going on a coffee run. I got everyone’s orders but yours. Have you been crying?”

You quickly give him your order. “Thank you.”

“Y/N—”

“Spencer, I’m fine. I appreciate you getting us coffee. I just want to be alone right now. You understand, right?”

“Yeah. I’ll come find you when I get back,” he says reluctantly.

“Okay,” you whisper.

Spencer is a lot of things and persistent is one of them. You’ll have to have a better excuse for when he comes back because you know this isn’t going to be the first time he asks about this.

When Spencer returns, he finds you with a heap of files in your hands. You couldn’t think of a good excuse as to why you were crying so you decided to be so busy he can’t ask you about it. Spencer has given everyone else their orders so you’re the last one.

“Hey, Spence, you can drop it off at my desk. Thank you.”

“Wait, Y/N--”

“I can’t talk right now, Spencer. I have work to do.”

Spencer watches you leave with a sigh. You keep yourself busy all day just so you don’t have to talk to him, and you’re one of the first ones to leave at the end of the day when you’re usually one of the last. Spencer can’t take this anymore so he immediately heads over to your place since he’s the only one who has a key.

He tries knocking to be polite but you don’t get the door. He can hear you crying inside so he uses the key and walks in. You’re sitting on the couch with a bottle of alcohol in your hands. You shouldn’t have gotten into the hard liquor but after the day you’ve had, it’s understandable. You baely register that he’s here due to how much you’re crying.

“Be careful with that. You don’t want to end up addicted,” he says and sets his coat down on the chair.

“It’s not an addiction. It’s a coping mechanism,” you scoff and take another swig.

“What’s wrong? Don’t say nothing because it’s obviously something. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so upset.”

The waterworks come again, and you look at your best friend who sits next to you on the couch.

“I got a message from my dad this morning. That piece of shit. He asked me if he could see me. God, he was such a shitty dad. He was angry all the time, he hit me and my mom, and it’s how I got these.” You show him the small circular scars on your arms that was caused by his cigarettes. “He was in jail but got out and asked to see me as if he didn’t make my life a living hell.”

“On top of all that, I’m really struggling with my self image because I look just like him,” you cry. “Sometimes I hate what I see in the mirror. I hate that I see his face. I fucking hate him.”

Spencer takes the alcohol bottle from your hands gently and sets it on the table. He moves closer to you and pulls you into him to give you physical comfort.

“You are not your father. You are so good and you’re the light where he is the darkness.” You look up at him and he wipes your tears away. “What he did to you was terrible but you are not him.”

“How do you know?” you whisper.

“Because you’re worried about turning into him. The fact that you recognize that is the beginning of why you’re not him. You don’t have to see him but if you do, I will go with you. You’re not alone.”

You snuggle closer to Spencer and place your head on his chest.

“Will you stay with me?”

“Of course.”

Spencer kicks off his shoes and gets comfortable on the couch with you practically on top of him. He rubs your back gently and waits until you fall asleep, allowing him to fall asleep right after you.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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halsteadlover · 7 months

Text

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐬

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Paired: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader.

• Requested: no.

• Summary: your baby boy takes his first steps leaving Spencer a mumbling mess.

• Warnings: none, just fluff.

• Word count: 1591.

• A/N: just a quick Spencer fic since I realized I’m only writing for Jay once again (what can I say he’ll always be my first love). I hope you’ll like it, y’all know I’m a sucker for dad’s fics 😭. Please comment, reblog and like if you want. Thank you so much for all your support I love you all so much, my inbox and dms are always open if you want to talk ❤️

“Spencer! Baby! Oh my God come here now!“.

Your voice made Spencer jump on his chair. He was writing a work report he didn’t manage to finish that day and for which Hotch would’ve his head if he didn’t turn it back by the next day.

Spencer's heart lost a beat and fear swept over him as his mind began to project every worst-case scenario possible.

He got up from his study desk, dropping his pen carelessly to the floor, and literally ran to the living room where he knew you and your baby were.

“Baby! What happened?! Are you all right? Is Noah okay?” He asked with concern and you instantly felt guilty for worrying him like that.

You were sitting on the floor, legs crossed while Noah was standing next to you and you were holding him by his little hands. He was babbling something nonsensical and began to fidget when he turned and saw his father, a huge smile on his face.

“Sorry love, everything’s okay. I didn't mean to scare you,” you giggled as you saw Spencer visibly relax and heave a sigh of relief.

“You gave me a fucking heart attack I thought something had happened,” he breathed out with a hand on his chest as he could feel his heart still pounding.

How long had he become so jumpy? He didn't know, he just knew that since he had become a father every little change and every little thing made him jump on the spot, making him tremendously worried about his child. God, that little being was making him lose years of life with each passing day.

“Don't ever do that again please,” Spencer admonished you as he approached you sternly but his expression immediately softened as his eyes rested on Noah who kept fidgeting wanting nothing more than to go to his father. “What have you been up to little one? You like to scare your dada huh? You are so lucky you and your mom are adorable, I hope both of you know that”.

You let go of his little hands but still being close to him as you proudly watched Noah hold himself up. His little legs trembled slightly as he continued to babble something.

“Oh god...” Spencer murmured almost imperceptibly in shock. Was it really going to happen? In that instant he realized why you had called him and he almost had a heart attack again.

“Yes baby! Come to dada, come here, I know you can do it,” he continued to encourage him, approaching him and kneeling down so he could immediately catch him if he fell. He stretched his arms toward his baby, a huge smile on his lips as he invited Noah to take his first steps.

You went to get your phone at the speed of light, wanting to capture that precious moment in a video so you could keep it with you forever.

Noah brought one leg forward and the other with instability, taking his first step and making his parents jump for joy.

The living room filled with the sounds of little squeals of excitement and clapping hands as you both continued to encourage your son to continue taking baby steps.

Spencer never felt such joy before, maybe he had a similar feeling the day he married you but seeing his baby walk, taking his first steps towards him, damn it, that feeling was something indescribable, something he’d never forget.

“Yeah buddy! You're so good, you're doing great my love. Come to your dada! I’m right here… “ Spencer continued to say while taking small steps backwards while Noah instead took the same number towards him.

His eyes didn't leave his child even for a second, almost forgetting you were there next to them while filming the whole scene with your cell phone. He analyzed every movement that little ray of sunshine was making, the way he was so focused, the way his walk was unsteady and rickety, the way he looked at him with a smile on his little face as he let slip some little frustrated screams when he never seemed to be able to reach his father. He wanted to imprint all these little details in his memory and never before did he thank whoever was up there for his eidetic memory.

Noah eventually stopped in his tracks and Spencer caught him before he even hit the floor, standing up and holding him close.

“Yes! You did it buddy!” Spencer exclaimed in joy as he lifted little Noah into the air who continued to giggle and drool while he waved his little arms. He showered kisses on his plump little cheeks, not being able to contain his joy. “I'm so proud of you little one, I love you so much.”

You were a complete mess as you looked at Spencer and the way he held his baby with so much love and pride, you could see it in his face, the way he looked at him. That man loved his son more than any other person in the world and then more than ever you couldn't help but think you couldn't have chosen a better father for your child.

Spencer gently caressed Noah's head, cradling him in his arms as his emotions overwhelmed him.

He had never been good at controlling them and keeping them at bay was harder than ever. He couldn't believe how quickly time was passing, how was it possible his son was already walking?

It seemed like yesterday that he held him as soon as he was born.

“Spence…” you called him when you saw the way Spencer had sheltered his face on Noah's small shoulders, as if to hide himself. You placed a hand on your husband's shoulder, immediately noticing he was crying.

“Take him,” he whispered and you picked Noah up as Spencer went to sit on the couch, hands on his face and elbows resting on his knees as he sobbed uncontrollably.

“Oh baby you'll make me cry too.”

As if you weren’t already a fountain of tears.

You hugged your baby too, crying with joy all the tears you had in your body while he unaware played with your hair.

“I love you so much my little angel,” you whispered, giving him a kiss on the cheek, thanking God for giving you such a beautiful gift.

You turned your head towards Spencer, noticing how he was sobbing and when he raised his head and you looked at each other, you both burst into a loud laughter, aware of how disastrous each other looked.

You sat next to him and he wasted no time in wrapping a hug around your shoulders. He pulled you towards him and left a kiss on your head, while tears continued to run down his cheeks, his eyes on Noah who just didn't seem to stay still.

“I… Damn… I can’t do this…” he cried, bringing his hands to his face after leaning against the back of the sofa and drying his tears.

How could anyone be so fucking happy?

He had never felt anything like this, he didn't know how to react and he hated not knowing how he felt.

He was afraid. Afraid it’d be too good to be true.

What had he done to deserve all this? What had he done to have the family he had always dreamed of?

Images and memories kept playing in his mind. From the moment you told him you were pregnant, from the joy and fear of having to be a father, from when you found out you were expecting a boy to the moment he felt him kicking for the first time in your womb. He remembered watching your belly grow for nine months until he finally held his son in his arms for the first time and now seeing him take his first steps.

He felt so incredibly grateful, so damn lucky.

You caressed his arm, trying to comfort him even though you were crying even more than him.

He tried to compose himself but all he had to do was pick up his baby again to let down more tears of joy, meanwhile laughing with you. It was so surreal.

He wrapped his other arm around your shoulders and pulled you back to him, letting you rest your head on his chest as you looked at Noah standing on his father's thighs.

“I love you so much baby, thank you for giving me the best gift I could ever ask for,” he whispered after leaving a sweet kiss on your forehead making your heart do a somersault in your chest. Even though years had passed, you never got tired of hearing him say it.

You lifted your head and pressed your lips to his in a chaste kiss as butterflies roamed freely across your stomach. “I love you so much Spence.”

You burst out laughing when Noah grabbed a lock of Spencer's hair and started pulling it, making the grown man let out a whine.

“Jesus christ how can they be so small but so strong?” Spencer complained as he tried to loosen his baby’s grip on his hair. The scene was comical, you didn't know if the way Noah pulled Spencer’s hair made you laugh more or your husband's face still streaked with tears and his eyes still red.

But he didn't care, even though Noah was hurting him quite a bit, he couldn't stop smiling, thinking he wouldn't change this for anything else in the world.

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @halstead-severide-fan, @mrspeacem1nusone, @allivzs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes

Spencer Reid tag list: @blorp-bee, @s1lverhand, @novabckly

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killerlookz · 2 days

Note

Hello my fellow Criminal Minds fan! 😊

May I please request headcanons for Spencer falling for a female agent who’s cynical about love and relationships due to being hurt in the past?

a/n: thank you sm for the request! i'd be happy to write this for you! :-)

Falling in Love Again | Spencer Reid Headcannons

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

content: mentions of reader having been cheated on in the past, uhhhh that's really it haha

word count: 1,478 (sorry she's so long)

Spencer Reid had always been excited about falling in love, the thought of being so close to another person- to share so much with someone was such a wonderful thing to him.

Especially after watching his mom and dad growing up, and the way his father treated her-Spencer was dead set on never becoming anything like him, he looked forward to treating a woman right and spending the rest of his life with her.

But, for as excited as he was he was probably 20 times more nervous about the whole falling in love thing.

So when you came around, and he started to experience that warm, creeping feeling in his chest- he felt a little bit like his world was going to end.

Spencer had never made a move on anyone before, sure he did make out with Lila Archer that one time but he didn't exactly initiate it.

Spencer decided just to channel all of his romantic interest in becoming friends with you, at least he got to spend time with you, that's what really mattered to him. Maybe one day it would turn into something more.

Well.. he hoped until he couldn't help but overhear...

"I went on my first date in months last night, and all this guy did was talk about himself the entire time- didn't let me get a word out, I mean, can you believe it?" Emily says, exasperated

You look up at her as she stands in front of your desk, "Oh, trust me Emily, I can believe it." You shake your head

"I mean," She throws her hands up, "What is it with men? What's wrong with them."

"Everything," You smirk, "They're men. I can't remember I had a good experience with one of them- never maybe?" You laugh. "I've given up on dating."

Your words sunk into Spencer's brain, leaving him with a heavy feeling all around he felt awful- not just about the fact that his chances with you seemed to reduce to zero right there in that moment, but because of how upset you seemed under your sarcastic exterior, he could tell you'd really been hurt before.

A few weeks later you're out for drinks with Emily, Penelope, Morgan, Spencer, and JJ. Amidst the loud, drunken conversations and music at the bar- you can hear the faint chiming sounds of your ring tone, Who would be calling this late?

As you take your phone from your pocket, your stomach drops when you see the number flashing on the screen. The mere sight of those 10 digits making you want to throw your phone to the ground and stomp on it until nothing remains.

"Ooooh, who's that calling." Morgan smirks

You look him dead in the eyes and respond flatly, "My ex."

Morgan's smile doesn't fade instead his smirk seems to deepen, "You two got a little thang goin on?"

"No," You shove your phone back in your pocket, "More like he's trying to get back in my pants after cheating on me- twice."

"Ooh!" Morgan responds, wincing, "So he's a dog."

"A pig is more like it." You scoff, "Who does he think he is. I can't even imagine giving my time to another man again, and even if I could- what makes him so confident I'd give him the time of day."

That familiar heavy pain hits Spencer again.

He's staring at you, and it's like the rest of the bar doesn't even exist. Only you, as you bite your lip, trying to hide any emotion in your face.

Spencer has become good at reading your emotions, maybe it's because he spends so much time with you- maybe it's because of how often he finds himself staring at your face. As much as you try to seem nonchalant, he could tell how upset you are.

Spencer would spend more time than he wanted to admit fantasizing about treating you well, about giving you the love you never seemed to have.

Every time you made a snarky comment about love, or how men had treated you in the past Spencer would want so desperately bad to just tell you about how well he would treat you, how he would never ever hurt you, how he would spend his entire life taking care of you.

The words were practically scratching up his throat, begging to be let out. But still, he would just swallow them down, and give you a sympathetic look, he couldn't muster up being able to do anything more.

At the very least, Spencer's plan of becoming friends with you was working.

The two of you would become very good friends.

Spencer would learn everything he could about you, he would want to know as much as possible.

Not in a weird creepy way- but in a he just thinks you're so amazing he can't get enough of you sort of way.

Every time you and Spencer hung out he wouldn't be able to ignore that nagging feeling, the thought of putting an arm around you and pulling you close, of holding your hand in his, or placing a delicate kiss on your cheek.

The thoughts would eat away at Spencer, and he would only fall more, and more in love with you.

Still, he would lose more hope every time you divulged information about your prior encounters with love. He couldn't blame you for feeling so cynical it, not after what you'd been through.

Spencer would think about his mom, about all the wives Rossi had been through, about Hotch and Hailey, about you- he would wonder why love had to be so painful for some people. He was sure he would never hurt somebody he loved.

One day you're over Spencer's apartment, watching a rom-com, and you make a snide remark, "Oh, real love isn't like that." You scoff and roll your eyes.

Spencer doesn't know what it is, but something in him makes him respond, "It could be." He says meekly

You look up at him, caught off guard at his disagreement, "Hm?" you hum

Spencer wasn't able to take it any more, he hated hearing your cynical nature. He would need you to know how you deserved the entire world.

"Love- It can be like the movies." He affirms his stance.

"Not in my experience."

"I would give you love like that." Spencer would tremble as he makes his confession, so unsure of what would happen next.

He would be terrified of your reaction, scared he was about to mess everything up, ruin any future the two of you had together, and even worse, lose your friendship.

"W-what do you mean, Spence."

"I mean, you always talk about how you've been hurt before, and it just-" He takes a deep breath in, contemplating what he's going to say next, "I love you, y/n," He looks down at his lap, then back up at you, "I would never hurt you."

Despite the obvious passion in Spencer's voice, you were still hesitant about it, but everything inside of you told you to give Spencer a chance.

Spencer would insist on taking things slow, you were his first real relationship and he wouldn't want to rush things, for both his and yours sake. He wouldn't pressure you to put a label on things, or even say you're "dating"- those would come on your own time.

Spencer was determined to make you believe in love again, and he would do everything in his power to make sure you knew without a doubt how he felt about you.

Spencer would often get to work before you to surprise you with coffee and a breakfast sandwich, or a donut on your desk in the mornings.

He would insist on having a date night at least once a week, even if the two of you were on a case, ordering room service or finding a local pizza restaurant way late at night was sufficient, as long as the two of you got to spend time together.

Spencer would be hesitant about PDA or really moving too quickly into being too affectionate, still, he would frequently hold your hand, squeezing it tight when he could tell you were stressed or upset- either by a case or by life in general, he just wanted to give you that extra reassurance that he was there for you.

Spencer would really put the work in, he'd exert more effort than you had ever seen from any past relationship into even the tiniest things.

Spencer wouldn't mind though, anything he could do to reassure you that he loves and cares about you, he would do it.

Every little act of love and gratitude would be worth it to him.

He would savor and cherish every hug, every shared glance, every peck on the forehead, on the cheek, on the lips.

It was all worth it to him, every second of it- all he wanted to do was make you smile, to make you fall in love again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid headcannons #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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loislane41319 · 6 months

Text

Fear.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Wordcount: 3094

Summary: The first time Dean sees you scared.

Warnings: Typical Supernatural stuff. Vampires, beheading vampires, death, deep feelings of guilt, loss of loved ones.

Note: I'm sorry it's been so long since I've posted anything. All three of my best friends recently moved away and I've been going to therapy for, among other things, ADHD.

Last week I had my last therapie session and, while I wrote this a few weeks ago, today I finally finished editing it!

Thank you so much for waiting for me and I really hope you'll enjoy this.

For those who'd like something less violent I am working on a dad!Spencer Reid story. I don't know when I'll post that though.

Story:

Fear is a funny thing. It can just appear out of nowhere or it can sneak up on you, like some virus that you’re not aware of until after it’s caused an infection. Fear is a feeling, but unlike happiness or anger it always comes with a bodily reaction. Depending on the situation and the person, the body can react to fear in different ways. For instance, when you come eye to eye with a tiger, you might feel your chest start to tighten. This means your muscles are getting ready to take action, possibly in the form of fighting or in the form of running away. Others might start to sweat excessively, so that their bodies will stay cool while running and then there’s the kind of person who will drop to the ground and play dead. Now, when encountering a tiger the latter method is useless, because tigers will sneak up on you and attack from behind. However when you encounter a female bear protecting her cubs, pretending to be dead is exactly the way to go.

Now, these reactions stem from a long time ago when humans regularly came in contact with wild animals, because we lived amongst them and they were a source of food. Nowadays however, we might react to having a job interview or giving a presentation in the same way our ancestors would while encountering a sabre-toothed tiger. That is, unless your job is to hunt ghosts, demons or other supernatural beings.

Of course, these hunters are humans so they know fear. Probably even better than normal folk. The thing about hunters is that, while they are afraid, they don’t show it. They can’t, otherwise whatever creature they’re hunting will gain the upper hand. So, while learning what monsters are out there and how to beat them, a hunter will learn how to handle their fear. They’ll learn to keep their breathing under control, so they won’t start hyperventilating and panic, but they’ll be able to keep thinking clearly. They learn to think on their feet, so that, even when a creature does gain the upper hand, they can turn the tables just as fast. And most of all, they learn that being scared is okay, because their own fear won’t kill them, but whatever creature they’re facing might.

You are one of those hunters. You’ve been hunting for almost two decades and you’re good at it. You were also a mystery. You had some impressive kills to your name and so other hunters starting talking about you, but no one actually knew you. Rumours were spread and you were made out to be some kind of superhuman. Eventually, the word most used to describe you, was fearless.

The rumours eventually also reached the Winchesters. Dean was not only impressed, but intrigued by the stories he heard and his desire to meet you kept growing the more he heard about you. Sam however, had his doubts about the rumours floating around and would rather focus on facts.

Dean was granted his wish though. Four months ago you met the brothers while working the same case. You got along well and after working together and solving the case you worked together more and more.

While drinking a beer on the hood of his car, you even opened up to Dean about losing your mother as a child and since he went through something similar, you two became very close. Bit by bit you pulled away the veil that you had draped over your past. You shared stories about your family , your pain, but not your fear. Never your fear. To you, fear was something you couldn’t allow yourself to feel. Instead of learning to deal with it, you had taught yourself to bury it, deep down inside of you where no one, not even you, could get to it. And it worked. You killed vampires, ghosts, werewolves and demons all on your own. It didn’t even matter how many there were, you would always get the job done. Until one fateful night.

You and the Winchesters were working a case that involved multiple bodies, found with bite marks and without blood. The culprit was a vampire. That you knew almost instantly. What you didn’t know however, was how many there were or where they were held up. After the third victim was found, you realised all the bodies were left around an old abandoned factory and you decided to investigate.

Ever since you entered the town though, the hairs on the back of your neck had stood up straight. Why? You didn’t know. You just felt like something was off, but since you had no idea what, you shrugged it off and focused on the job you had to do.

The second you found yourself at the factory though, your heart started banging in your chest, harder than it ever had. But, as always, you shoved the feeling down and kept going. There were three buildings in the area and you decided to clear them together, one by one. The first building was empty. When you thought you had cleared the second building, suddenly you were pushed to the ground. You managed to catch yourself, but as your hands hit the ground, an image flashed through your brain. You saw your hands on the exact same floor except everything was covered in blood. What was going on? Within a second you were back to reality, without any idea what had just happened. Your skin was now clammy, your breathing heavy and you were sweating profusely. “Y/N, you okay?” You heard Dean ask. You got up and after turning around you noticed a beheaded body and blood dripping off of Sam’s machete. It was a vampire that had pushed you down. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get to the last building.” You answered and all three of you kept going.

You walked over to the third building and stood next to Dean as Sam opened the door. Before entering, you swallowed hard, trying to calm yourself down. For a split second, you wondered if you should let Sam and Dean handle this building without you, but you immediately threw that thought out of the window. How could you even think about leaving your friends just when things got difficult?

The second you entered the factory hall, you felt like you had walked into a wall. You staggered backwards, slamming your back into the wall behind you as your brain was flooded with images of this very hall covered in blood and remains. Suddenly you heard your brother. He was screaming, vampires were growling and suddenly you were on the ground and the blood was gone. The next second you could see Sam and Dean fighting some vamps, but you couldn’t tell what was real anymore. You saw a vampire coming straight at you, but you weren’t sure if it was really there, so you had no idea what to do. You pressed yourself against the wall, pulling your knees against your chest. In an attempt to make everything stop, you covered your ears and closed your eyes, hiding your face between your knees.

As the last vampire’s head hit the floor, Dean started looking for you and Sam. He found his brother first, standing over another dead vampire a few feet away. “You okay?” Sam asked. “Yeah” Dean answered and he was about to ask where you were when he heard you whimpering. “No, no, no. Go away, leave me alone.” You mumbled. For a second Dean wasn’t sure if you were actually you. You were hyperventilating, tears were streaming down your face and you looked so small Dean could barely recognise the strong, powerful woman he had gotten to know in the last few months. Both brothers ran toward you and knelt down next to you. “Hey, Y/N? It’s Dean. It’s safe now. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. Can you open your eyes for me?” Dean softly asked. Somehow, through all the screaming and the blood and the violence in your head Dean’s voice was crystal clear. Like a light in the darkest night you tried your best to focus on his voice and you let him guide you back to reality. “Dean?” You managed to get out through sort breaths. “Yeah, Y/N, it’s me. It’s okay. Try to breathe.” He told you. You slowly looked up at him and while everything outside of you was calm and quiet, your body was still a complete chaos on the inside. “I-I can’t.” You told Dean as your right hand found your heart. “Yes you can. Here.” Dean said. He took your hand from your heart and placed it over his own. “Try to match my breathing. You can do this, I know you can.” He told you and you tried your best, but your erratic breathing didn’t change. Dean looked at his brother, wordlessly asking him for help. Sam held his hands up, wordlessly telling his brother he didn’t know how. Dean looked back to you. His heart broke seeing you like this and it hurt so much more because he couldn’t help you. He racked his brain, trying to think of anything that might help you.

Suddenly, an idea popped into this head. It may have been the most ridiculous, dumb idea he ever had, but he had to help you and there was nothing else he could think of. Still holding your hand over his heart, Dean laid his other hand in your neck and pressed his lips against yours.

In the last for months Dean had loved getting to know you. He deeply enjoyed hanging out with you and felt honoured every time you told him something about yourself you hadn’t told anyone else. He had wanted to ask you out for two months now, but had never found the courage to do that. About a week ago you were working on another case. You had found changelings and after killing the mother, one of the human kids didn’t want to leave their cage. It was a little, four-year-old girl and Dean couldn’t help but stare at you as you talked to her. “I know you’re scared and your mommy isn’t here right now, but I can take you to her.” You told her. “But there are scary people out there.” The little girl whispered. “I know, but I will be with you the whole way, so I can protect you, okay?” You asked her. “Even from him?” She whispered back, pointing at Dean. A small smile appeared on your face. “I know he seems scary, but that’s my friend Dean. He won’t hurt you, I promise.” You told her and as you took the girl into your arms, Dean realised he didn’t just like you. He was falling in love with you.

As he let you go, you could finally take a deep breath in. You took a few moments to steady your breathing and then you noticed the two faces staring questioningly at you. “Y/N, what happened?” Sam asked you. “Not here. I gotta get out of here first.” You told the brothers, shaking your head. They nodded and the three of you got up and left.

About an hour later, you were back at the motel. You and Dean had both taken showers and Sammy had gotten the dinner you were now enjoying. You made smalltalk for a few minutes, until Sam decided to address the elephant in the room. “Y/N, can you please tell us what happened? I mean, in the months that we’ve known you we’ve seen you kill all kinds of creatures, including vampires, without braking a sweat and tonight you had a full blown panic attack. Do you even know what caused it?” He asked. You softly sighed and nodded, knowing you could get around it any longer. “I grew up in a family of hunters. As you know, my mom died when I was little and so my dad and my brother started hunting together, leaving me at whatever seedy motel room we were staying in. One day, when I was fifteen, I decided I was old enough to join them. They didn’t agree, so I figured I’d prove it to them. They were after a vampire and I had overheard them talking about where they thought it would be that night. A few hours later, I snuck out and went there. The vampire was held up somewhere in an old factory. Three buildings and lots of ground to cover.”

“The place we were tonight.” Sam filled in. You nodded. “Yeah. I noticed the lights were on in the third building, so I went in. I found my dad and brother inside and it turned out there wasn’t just one vampire. There were five of them. The moment one of them noticed me, I screamed. It ran straight at me, but my brother managed to kill it in time.

My dad however, had gotten distracted by my scream, giving another vamp enough time to stab him. My brother yelled at me to run, but there were still three vamps left. I did what he told me and waited for him outside, but he never came out. He was barely eighteen. He saved my life twice in one night and had to make up for it with his own.” You felt a tear slide down your face and fell quiet. “And all of that happened in the building we were in tonight?” Sam asked. You nodded. “I always felt like their deaths were my fault, because if I hadn’t screamed, they’d still be here. So I decided I couldn’t be scared anymore.” You admitted. “Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Sam told you. Dean took your hand, causing you look at him. “I’m so sorry about that, Y/N, but their deaths aren’t your fault, they’re the vamps fault and it’s okay to be scared. Everyone gets scared sometimes, you just can’t let that stop you.” He told you sincerely. “I mean, you’re sitting next to a guy who shits his pants every time the Plucky Pennywhistle’s commercial plays.” Dean added grinning. “Haha. Here’s an idea. Take Dean on a flight. He’ll scream like a little girl the whole way.” Sam bit back, got up and disappeared into the bathroom.

The silence that followed was heavy. Dean cleared his throat and started gathering the fast-food wrappers that were all over the table. As he got up to throw them away, you decided you had to get something off of your chest. “Dean, how did you know kissing me would help me breathe?” You asked as you turned to him. He just shrugged. “Read it somewhere, I think.” He mumbled. “So, it was just that? Just a way to get me to take deeper breaths?” You asked, getting up and walking towards him. “Yeah, I was just trying to-“ You turned him towards you and softly pressed your lips against his, effectively cutting him off. He kissed you back, dropping the towel he was holding in the sink and wrapping his arm around your waist. One of your hands found its way into his hair, while the other intertwined both of your fingers. Then you pulled back. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to, I’d-“ You tried to walk away, but had somehow forgotten you were still holding Deans hand. “Not so fast. I have something to admit. I didn’t just kiss you to stop you from panicking. I didn’t know what to do and I wanted to kiss you before it was too late.” Dean said while walking closer to you. “Really?” You asked him. “Yeah. I’ve wanted to ask you out for months, but I was so scared of losing you that I kept chickening out. So, this is me, not letting my fear stop me. Y/N, will you go out with me? Because I think I’m falling for you.” You were so close, your foreheads and noses touched and you could feel Dean’s breath against your lips as he talked. You pressed another kiss to his lips and a smile appeared on his face. “Yes, I’ll go on a date with you. And Dean? I fell for you four months ago.” You told him. Dean kissed you again and then you finally let go of his hand. “We should get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” You told him, trying not to laugh at the pout on his face.

The moment the door closed behind you, you felt cold. Part of you wanted to get back inside and stay with Dean until the morning and another part you was yelling at you because it’s just one night. You could be without him for that long, couldn’t you? So, you went to your own room and got ready for bed. Once in bed, though, you couldn’t sleep. You kept tossing and turning and for whatever reason you were freezing. After a few minutes, you decided enough was enough. You got out of bed and made your way back to Sam and Deans room. The light was still on and Sam was still in the shower. Dean was in bed flipping though channels. His hand disappeared under his pillow when the door opened, until he noticed it was you. “Hey, what’s up?” He asked and turned off the tv. “Hey, can I sleep here tonight?” You asked softly. Then you saw the most adorable thing you had seen in a while. Deans eyes started shining and his lips turned into the sweetest smile. “Come here.” He said. He held up a corner of the blanket and moved back as you crawled into bed next to him. The first moments were a little awkward as Dean was laying with his back toward the edge of the bed and you laid with your back towards him. He loosely laid an arm around your waist and waited to see how you’d react. You took his hand, intertwined your fingers and pulled it against your heart. Then you softly kissed Dean’s knuckles and the awkwardness melted away. Dean wrapped his other arm around you too and pulled you against his chest. “Goodnight, handsome.” You whispered. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” Dean whispered back and pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. Not two minutes later you were both fast asleep when Sam came out of the bathroom. He immediately noticed you in his brothers bed and couldn’t help but smile. Finally.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean x reader #vampire #fearless #guilt #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #friends to lovers #rumors

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c-m-stuff · 11 months

Text

Complete Opposites

Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

-Description: You and Spencer are married. You two have a beautiful son. When your niece unexpectedly visited you, everyone could see you were complete opposites.

-Warnings: Fluffiness, angst, mention of smut, having a child

-Word count: 2221

-Note: (Repost from Wattpad, requests are welcome!) I actually had really fun writing this one. But, I need to make a few things clear. First of all, I write here about readers niece, just know, that I totally made that up. I love my niece, she isn't like this character at all. Second of all, this one shot, and most of the text, was based on a TV show. That was a really big inspiration, but I changed it sometimes, lightly. TV show: Friends - 9x8

Masterlist

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Y/N POV:

I was facing the mirror, looking at my beautiful black dress. It was one of David's famous dinner parties. Of course, we are going. We only have one problem. We couldn't find someone to stay with our new born baby. He was only 2 months old. Spencer and I, couldn't be more happy, his birth a real blessing. But, since no one of our friends can stay with him, and we don't trust a babysitter who is a complete stranger, we decided to take little (Y/S/N) with us.

'Wow.' I turned around to see my wonderful husband staring at me in awe.

'You look gorgeous. Absolutely stunning.' he stated, while making his way towards me.

'You don't look bad yourself, love.'

He came closer to me, pressing his lips into my neck. Sucking and licking on the sensitive skin. The possibility, that he left some marks, were pretty big.

'Honey, even though, I love this very much, not now. We need to go to David's.' I laughed, as he separated the contact, before we both got too carried away.

'Alright, fine. But, you're going to make this up to me when we're back.' he teased, staring deeply into my eyes.

'I won't argue with you.' I smiled, before giving each other a passionate kiss.

What ended the loving kiss, was the sudden sound of the doorbell ringing. We gave each other a confused look, knowing we agreed with the others that we would drive.

We both walked towards the front door, as I opened it. There she stood, my niece, I didn't saw in ages. She gave me a soft smile, letting herself in.

'Well hey, Amy. I haven't seen you in, like, a year.' I spoke, while giving her a quick hug.

'I know. I know. I've just been crazed.'

'Well, me too. I had a baby.'

'I decorated dad's office.' she stated, proud.

'Yeah? Well, unless you pushed a desk out of your vagina, not the same thing.' I said, sarcastically.

I mean, I love my niece. I really do, we're just complete opposites. She was popular, always busy with her looks, and just not that mature. I wasn't popular, I care more about the inside, and I'm just more mature than her. But, I'm happy she's here. Now, I can spend some lost time with her.

'I'm so excited! I'm going to have dinner at my boyfriend's house.' she walked herself further in, until she saw the crib of our beautiful son.

'Oh my god, is that (Y/S/N)?' she asked, as a smile grew on Spencer and my face.

'Yeah.'

'It's a boy?' the moment was almost perfect, until she asked this question. I was biting on my lip, while giving her a nod.

'So, Amy, do you remember Spencer?' I asked, as she now fully gave a look at him.

'Yes, of course!' suddenly, her phone began to rang.

'Oh, I need to take this one.' she said, before walking into a room.

Only about a minute later, she came back, visibly upset.

'Amy, what happened?'

'My boyfriend cancelled on me.' she answered, a deep sigh leaving her lips.

'I mean, I finally find a real relationship. Someone who I don't feel lonely with, and then his wife comes back into town!' she continued, making me roll my eyes behind her back. Like I said, complete opposites.

'God, I was so looking forward to this. It was going to be a beautiful evening.' she complained once more, as she started crying, lightly.

'Amy, don't cry.' I told her, before I turned around to meet Spencer's gaze.

'Can I talk with you in private?' he agreed, making our way towards the bedroom.

'Look, I was thinking, if it's okay with David... I would like to invite Amy.' he looked at me understanding, before placing a kiss on my cheek.

'Okay, I will call David.' he reassured me, and I wrapped him into a hug.

'Thank you.'

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So said, so done.

A few moments later, we arrived at David's mansion. I pressed the doorbell, and soon enough, the Italian let us all in.

'Hey guys, this is my niece, Amy. Amy, this is Derek, Aaron, David, JJ, Penelope, and Emily.' I introduced them, as everyone greeted back.

Eventually, I ended up with the girls, happily talking.

'So, your niece sounds nice.' Emily spoke out, while I nodded my head.

'Yeah, she is. She's just a lot to take, sometimes.' I admitted.

'But, anyways, how's Henry?' I asked JJ, wanting to change the subject.

'He's good! He just made new friends. Whenever he comes back home, he always tells us what he did that day. What for games they played at school.'

'Ohh, that is the cutest!' I answered, the girls all agreeing with me.

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After a little while, we decided to sit by the boys, on the comfortable couch. I sat next to Spencer, as Amy took place next to us.

'Hey, where's the baby?'

'We just put him down for a nap.' my husband answered, as Amy got excited.

'Listen, I was just thinking. You know what would be incredible?' we gave her a curious look.

'If you guys died!'

'Thank you, Amy.' I spoke, sarcastically, knowing she didn't meant it in that way.

'No, no, then I would get the baby.'

'It would be just like in a movie. At first, I wouldn't know what to do with him. And, then, I would rise to the occasion. Then, I'd get a makeover and get married.' she finished, smiling bright.

'Listen, not that you guys could stop me or anything. Because, you know, you'd be dead. But, I was thinking about changing his name. I'm just not really a big fan of (Y/S/N).' we all were flabbergasted, definitely not expecting this conversation to happen. I was struggling to tell her the truth.

'Honey, I don't know how to tell you this. But, if were something to happen to Spencer and myself, you wouldn't get the baby.' I told her, making her look in shock.

'Well, who would?'

'We haven't officially asked them yet, but we would want Jennifer and William.' Spencer continued, making JJ smile big. Will couldn't come this evening, but I'm sure he would react the same way.

'I can't believe you'd want us to raise (Y/S/N).' JJ spoke, genuine happy.

'I don't believe this. Hold on a second. You guys die, and I don't get your baby?'

'Amy, see, we're a lot closer to JJ and Will. We see them almost everyday, and truthfully, you don't seem connected to the baby.' I admitted, making her more angry.

'Connected? To what? He's a lump!'

'Dinner's ready!' I was grateful, David called us. I was getting more pissed off, but tried my best to ignore it.

At the table, the tension could be cut by a knife. Everyone ate, while Amy was visibly mad. There wasn't much chatting around the table, everyone feeling the heavy tension.

After dinner, we took place again on the couch, a little more talking now. Suddenly, Amy came sitting next to me, huffing annoyed.

'In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not talking to you.'

'What are you doing now then?' I said, sarcastically, before she rolled her eyes.

'You know, this is just classic (Y/N).' I laughed a bit.

'Right. Remember in high school, when I died, and didn't give you the baby?'

'This might be my one change to have a child, (Y/N).' Amy spoke, firmly.

'I mean, you know that I have been so busy focusing on my career.'

'What career?'

'I'm a decorator.' she said, as if it was the most obvious answer.

'You decorate your dad's office and now your a decorator?'

'Why can't you ever be supportive?'

'You want to talk about supportive? You didn't come and visit me when I was in the hospital having the baby.' I could tell, I was getting more angry. In the meanwhile, everyone remained quiet.

'You didn't come see me in the hospital when I was getting my lips done!' I huffed, the difference too big.

'I did the first time!' I yelled back, and got up from the couch. I walked a little further, before turning around.

'You know what? You want to know why I'm not giving you (Y/S/N)?' I began, as she got up as well.

'I'm not giving you (Y/S/N), because you can't handle the responsibility of a child.' I confessed, making her huf once more.

'Well, how hard could it be? You do it.' I felt the anger burning on my skin, as I bite on my lip, in attempt to stay calm.

'You wanna know why you don't want me to have the baby? Because you don't want me to be happy. You have always been jealous of me.'

'Jealous of what? Of your lack of responsibility? Your immaturity?' I argued back, letting her roll her eyes.

'You just think you're so perfect. With your new baby, and your small house. Well, let me tell you something. Your baby isn't even that cute.'

I was staring at her with shock and madness. Now, she went too far. Insulting me, okay, but don't involve my family in this.

'Too far, Amy. Too far.' I was relieved, Spencer stood up for us. I could see, he was clearly angry, we all were.

'You take that back.' I pointed at her, but she didn't care.

'No.'

'Take it back!'

'No. What are you gonna do? Make me?' she challenged me, waiting for my next move.

'Hey, I chase criminals for the living. You think, I can't handle you?'

'Bring it on!' right after she said that, she gave me a push.

'Did you just push me?'

'Yeah, I think I did.'

'All right, that's it.'

I minored her actions, giving her also a push. We began hit hands against hands, fighting like children. Than, I managed to get my hands in her hair, shaking it up, making it frizzy. When I was done, she immediately went to her hair, going multiple times over it, making it straight again. She then tried to push me again, but I hold her off by placing my hand on her head, making it harder to reach me.

Suddenly, I felt with my free hand an object, tossing it accidentally of its place. We immediately stopped fighting, looking now finally what we did. I accidentally tossed an empty wine glass from the table on the floor, the glass scattered everywhere.

'Alright, that's it! You cannot behave this way! If you can't act your age, you shouldn't be here at all.' David spoke, as the guilt washed over me.

'I'm sorry.' Amy apologized, while playing with her fingers.

'I'm so sorry, Dave!' I apologized, hating what had happened. His eyes got softer, nodding it was okay.

'Look, Amy, we got a little out-of-control over there. And, I'm sorry.'

'I'm sorry too.'

'You're my niece, and if it really means that much to you-' she cut me off.

'So, you're gonna give me the baby?'

'No, I was planning on coming to the hospital by your next beauty operation.' she smiled widely, pulling me into a hug.

'You are not gonna regret this.'

We separated, as I made my way towards the others. Spencer wrapped me instantly into a tight embrace, placing a gentle kiss on my head.

'Are you okay?'

'Yes, I'm fine.' I reassured him, planting a kiss on his cheek. We pulled apart, and I turned around to face the Italian.

'Dave, I'm so sorry! I really didn't mean to. I'll pay you back.'

'Don't worry about it. It's okay.' he gave me a soft smile, as I returned it, whispering a "thank you".

'(Y/N), Spence, did you guys really meant it about (Y/S/N)?' JJ asked, a bit insecure.

'Of course, we meant it. JJ, you and Will, are great parents. In that case, we would be more than happy. I mean, if you two want it, of course.'

'Yeah, of course! Thank you, we really appreciate it.' she both gave us a hug, letting us see her gratefulness.

'Well, I'm very thankful, but I pray that doesn't happen. We don't want to lose you guys.' we gave her a smile, nodding in agreement.

This evening may wasn't exactly what I thought it would be, but eventually it turned out alright. And, the evening only got hotter, as soon as my husband and I, (and our son) were back home.

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#criminal minds #cm #spencer reid #fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x yn #having children #fluff imagine #angst imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader

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the-au-thor · 5 months

Text

Little Witch | Chapter 1

A/N: IDK , I just want to post this story cause it's addictive. Any feedback or request, you know i'm available

Pairing: Spencer Reid x female reader. [No use of y/n]

Words: 2.8k

Warning: read it here!

⇜ ⇝

"There's my little Witch...""

Chapter 1

You gripped the steering wheel tightly while muttering unintelligible words. You couldn't curse in front of Matilda. The whole point of raising her was to make her a better version of yourself and Mela, so you wouldn't utter a single curse word in her presence. Besides, being a primary school teacher, it was expected that you replace any curse with much softer expressions – something that wouldn't sound like a reason for parents to complain to the school.

You were supposed to be at the school by 7 pm for the parent-teacher meeting, and you'd have to miss it if Spencer didn't show up soon.

Spencer Reid. He irritated you, it was more of a personal issue than his fault. It was because you felt he was constantly reading between the lines. He was an excellent behavior analyst, skilled at understanding people. You suspected he even knew about you before you revealed yourself. Though he insisted he had no idea who you were before meeting at the café.

Here's the thing: you could raise Matilda on your own. In fact, that was the exact plan you had laid out from the moment you knew Mela had passed away. You would take care of Matilda, and she would be yours. She had always been a bit yours, as Mela had wanted it. "You were born knowing how to take care of others. You always took care of me. I'm the one who has to learn," Mela used to say with a childish smile.

You didn't know who the father was until you found the note Mela had left inside a photo album. The force of your conscience overpowered your desire. You investigated Spencer before appearing at the University of Washington after one of his lectures. You entered the auditorium while he spoke and hated every part of it. Hated it because he looked decent and good – qualities you didn't expect from someone who had been with your sister. Mela used to attract losers who took advantage of her vulnerability to manipulate and leave her feeling miserable.

You wanted Spencer to give you reasons to leave that room and not tell him he was the father of a beautiful one-year-old girl. But deep down, you knew that if he had known about Mela's pregnancy, Spencer would have been in every little step in that journey, giving everything even if Mela was a disaster waiting to happen.

You didn't expect him to accept the news without question, and you wouldn't trust someone who acknowledged paternity without conducting their own investigations. Spencer and Matilda underwent DNA tests and went through the family system to divide responsibilities. You wouldn't just hand Matilda over; you had become her legal mother immediately after Mela's passing, and Spencer had to adapt to both of you, not the other way around.

However, you had to understand that adaptation was everyone's job, especially yours. In the past months, Matilda had perfectly adjusted to Spencer, calling him by who he was and looking at him the way she looked at you—with unconditional love. But you had much more to process than Matilda. For her, Spencer was her dad. Period. For you, Spencer was the man who could have changed your sister's life if only he had decided to stay a little longer and support her. You knew you couldn't blame him for Mela's fate, but it was easier this way. Blaming Spencer meant thinking much less about the responsibility you may had in your sister's bad decisions. So you had to make decisions for Matilda's well-being, not yours. And Matilda's well-being, whether you liked it or not, depended fifty percent on Spencer. So you had to be flexible with your time and priorities because you were raising a child with a man you barely knew and whose history with your sister was mostly a mystery.

But this was crossing the line. You understood there would be weeks when you snd Matilda would have to adjust care days because Spencer would be away for work. Or times when he would pick up Matilda very late. When you felt a pang of sympathy seeing him alone, leaving with Matilda in his arms, you reminded yourself that you were doing the right thing and that if you could take care of the girl on your own designated days, he could too. However, it was the third time this month that Spencer was late to pick up Matilda, and you couldn't continue like this. Not when you also had other responsibilities to attend to, and he needed to respect that. Instead of calling and discussing it, you headed to his workplace, and you would talk. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn't bring Matilda, but it was late, you had canceled your doctor's appointment, needed to get to the school on time for the meeting, and had no one to watch her with such short notice.

"It's fine, little bug." You stopped the car and unbuckled Matilda's car seat. Her hair had grown, even in braids. You had to fix a few loose strands that had escaped her intricate hairstyle. "We're going to make a very quick stop, and then you can get ice cream."

Ice cream that her father would have to pay for and then deal with the sugar rush by himself. It was the least he could do for being late on an important day. You had discussed it before. Matilda looked at you with a smile and playfully touched the dimple on your cheek as you held her while passing through the entrance of the BAU building. You didn't have to do much; your name was at the front desk. Spencer and you had made those arrangements—emergency contacts, key copies, names at the front desk, and so on. You had never had to use that help until now, and it was regrettable that you were annoyed. Usually, you paid attention to new places, but this time, you saw nothing except the elevator indicator and the floor tiles as you walked past the offices of the Unit where Spencer worked.

You looked through the glass of the massive entrance doors, trying to find Spencer's face. You knew you would spot him easily; his long hair wasn't hard to notice. Matilda pressed her palm against the glass, making enough noise to be heard but not enough to cause damage. You caught her hand and brought it to your lips, kissing the back affectionately.

"Wait, baby, don't do that," you stood on your toes to look towards the stairs, then felt footsteps behind you.

Turning around, you faced a blonde in a colorful floral dress and heels that would be deadly on you, but she carried them well. She looked at you and Matilda curiously but smiled charmingly anyway.

"Can I help you with something?"

You stepped away from the glass door and nodded vaguely, settling Matilda in your arms.

"Yes, please. In fact, I need to find Spencer Reid," you spoke and attempted a smile, aware that the blonde wasn't to blame for your issue with him. "Is he here?"

The blonde checked her wristwatch and nodded.

"He's about to arrive. I can make you girls company while you wait." She led you down the hallway to some chairs by the windows and smiled again as she walked carefully in her towering heels. "I'm Penelope, by the way."

You sat Matilda in the chair, straightening her dress as you sat next to her. You introduced yourself to Penelope and looked at Matilda. "Sweetie, did you hear that? She introduced herself. Her name is Penelope. What do we say when we meet someone?"

Matilda looked at Penelope, smiling broadly and showing her small white teeth. "Nice to meet you."

Her sweet voice and smile completely won over Penelope. It was the power of young children; they melted any heart.

"Oh, you're adorable," Penelope admitted with a playful voice, then gave her a genuine smile. "How old are you, Matilda?"

"I'm one and nine months" she answered slowly but clearly.

You patted her back proudly; you were working on improving her pronunciation, and Matilda was a little bright star. You used to think she was simply unique, but after meeting Spencer, you knew there was a strong inheritance in her.

"That's sensational! It's the best age," Penelope responded with enthusiasm and then looked at you, shaking her head. "I have no memory of that time." She whispered, making you chuckle, and both of you watched Matilda, who swung her legs absentmindedly, looking around with curiosity. "And what do you like to be called? Mattie, Ilde?"

The little girl laughed and looked at you hesitantly; you shrugged, raising your eyebrows.

"Don't look at me. She's asking you. How do I call you?"

"Little bug?" she asked uncertainly, making Penelope scrunch her face in an endearing pout. Matilda had her captivated.

"Yes, but how do your grandparents call you?"

"Tildie," she answered Penelope. "Daddy calls me little witch." Matilda's gaze shifted when she heard the sound of the elevator doors opening, and the sparkle in her eyes seemed to grow with joy as she jumped up. "Daddy!"

"Daddy?" Penelope asked again, stretching her face in surprise and confusion.

You quickly stood up when you saw Matilda hanging from Spencer's arms, and he smiled at her with surprise.

"There's my Little witch!"

Penelope stood up, opening her mouth in an 'o' and waved her hands in the air.

"Hell. There's. No.Way," she exclaimed in a surprised, choked shout.

Spencer wasn't alone; an older man with a mustache and a woman with dark skin accompanied him. You knew who they were. Spencer had talked about his colleagues, and you had noticed the affection with which he spoke about them. He kissed Matilda's forehead and then smoothed his own hair; some brown strands had escaped and were brushing against Matilda's forehead when she approached to kiss his cheek.

Penelope then looked at you, still with a surprised expression. "She said Daddy, right, or am I in a very weird different dimension?" she asked again.

You didn't give explanations; that was Spencer's business, so you pressed your lips, sending her a smile that tried—or so you hoped—to calm her. You walked towards Spencer with your smile starting to falter.

"You forgot again," you murmured seriously when you were close enough. He looked at you with remorse. "I have a parent-teacher meeting. I'll stop by your apartment to drop off her clean clothes, okay?" you asked, and Spencer pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Yes, I'm sorry. We had to close a case, and it took longer than expected," he whispered back, then looked at his companions. "These are Tara and David Rossi," he introduced them, and you greeted them, shaking their hands with a cordial smile. "I see you finally met Penelope," he added, turning to see the woman who still looked surprised.

Penelope put her hands on her chest with contained excitement.

"Finally?" she barely stammered at an audible volume.

You tried to smile at her.

"Oh yes, she welcomed us, right, little bug?" you asked Matilda, stroking her chin. "What do we say when we meet someone?"

Matilda looked at Tara and then at Rossi, who watched her attentively with smiles. David looked amazed, although he tried to hide it. Penelope, on the other hand, was an open book.

"Nice to meet you," she repeated the phrase as the new etiquette ritual she had been learning.

"I'm sorry I have to leave so quickly, but I have to work," you said your goodbyes to Tara, David, and Penelope with a smile. You looked at Spencer, adding the last part with a sigh, "You and I need to talk later. I'll swing by your apartment to drop off her clean clothes, okay?" you asked, and Spencer pressed his lips into a thin line.

You knew he hated every second of this, just like yoy. He looked somewhat disoriented, nervous, and surprised, and you understood because you had never set foot in that place, and judging by his coworkers' reactions, they certainly didn't expect a scene like that. So you left them to let him deal with it .

When the parent-teacher meeting ended, Levi, one of the single parents in that grade, was keeping you company while you organized things inside the classroom. His son, Benjamin, was a bright and hyperactive 11-year-old boy whom you had worked hard to help concentrate. Initially, it was just with English, but then you were assigned a grade in the school, and you had him as a student since he was 6 years old. This would be the year they graduated from elementary school, so it was bittersweet for you. Anyway, Levi and his ex-wife had an ugly divorce, and due to her mental health, he had been assigned as Benjamin's sole guardian when the boy was just a few months old. His ex-wife never attended visits and wanted nothing to do with the child.

Levi was conventionally handsome; not overly muscular nor skinny. He worked as a real estate agent for politicians and celebrities, so he always maintained a healthy and well-groomed appearance, with his well-styled blonde hair, trendy glasses, and coordinated clothing. He was kind, polite, and more concerned than most parents in Benjamin's grade, so he scored points. You had become excellent friends and confidants.

"So, he was late again," he sighed, pushing a strand of hair in a Clark Kent-like manner and adjusting his glasses.

"He wasn't late again," you rolled your eyes, organizing student files on his desk. "He was going to pick her up; he just got delayed."

Levi was the one rolling his eyes. "Is it the fourth time this month?"

"Third," you corrected, locking the drawer of your desk and grabbing your bag to sling it over your shoulder. "But it's because his job is very demanding. He's chasing criminals, Lev."

Levi shrugged.

"You're educating a bunch of little criminals." He joked, earning a gentle shoulder punch. "It's true!" he protested, still laughing.

"I'll rephrase; he's chasing psychopaths. And I remind you that one of those little criminals, as you said, is your own son," you added, and Levi didn't seem to mind, as he shrugged again with a playful smile.

"That's why I say it. I have the perspective of experience," he laughed, putting his hands in his pants pockets. "So... are you going to talk to him? You need to sort this out somehow; you can't keep changing your plans because he can't do his most important job"

"It's hard, Levi," you sighed. "I guess he's still adjusting. A year ago, he didn't even know he was a father, and I've actually been surprised by how quickly he took on his responsibilities."

"No. No," he shook his head with sudden seriousness. "Don't look at me like that. You know what I'll say; if he wanted to be part of Matilda's life when you dropped the bomb that she was his daughter, he knew that the decision had to come with some adaptation on his part. If you want to be a father, you just have to be willing. Promptness comes with the role of a father; there's no merit in it."

You knew that. But somehow, you felt the need to defend Spencer, and you also felt that even if it was a father's obligation to adapt, they deserved credit for it. It takes more than just a sense of responsibility to step back for a person whose existence you didn't know about before, even if it's your own blood.

"Anyway, Levi, he still has a lot to digest."

Levi snorted. You knew it was nothing against Spencer; it was more of a personal resentment against the circumstance. Not everyone was like him; a single father with a full-time job, a child diagnosed with ADHD, and a mother diagnosed with Parkinson's in his care.

Spencer didn't have it easy either; he had a more than full-time job that constantly put him at risk and absorbed his complete attention and energy. He also had to adapt to fatherhood and take care of his mother with schizophrenia and Alzheimer's.

"You and him would get along," you murmured, making him snort again.

"Not at all," he responded almost defensively, making you laugh.

"One day, I'll invite you both to the same restaurant and not show up. You'll see that you have more in common than you think, and you'll become best friends. And you'll forget about me," you smiled confidently.

"Let him stop standing up Matilda, and then I might consider being his acquaintance," he said sarcastically.

You sighed impatiently, walked to his car, and looked at him, deciding that you couldn't convince him to change his opinion of Spencer.

"He didn't stand her up," you rolled your eyes in response, then looked at him, raising your eyebrows. "I guess I'll see you at the winter dance," you added mockingly.

Levi rolled his eyes with irritation. "I had no choice; no other parent volunteered. Kids. At his age, I didn't have dances, just a bag of candy and maybe a day off from school."

You laughed, getting into the car.

"Now you sound like an old man, Levi. Take care. Get home safely."

"Good luck with Spencer," he wished as a parting remark and got into his car to leave the sparsely populated school parking lot.

You played music on the way to Spencer's house. You could drive there with your eyes closed. You had to go thousands of times in the first few weeks to help him with Matilda. It's not that she didn't want him from the moment they met, because she loved him. And he loved her, there was no doubt. But the adaptation was on both sides. Matilda lost her mom, with whom she lived in a small apartment downtown above a little shop, and had to move to your suburban home in Washington. In addition to that, she met her dad, which was a completely new concept for her. She called her grandfather "dad," and let's say he didn't take the new title well.

They were delighted with Spencer. You can't forget their radiant smiles when they visited Washington to meet Spencer and see Matilda. Of all the bad decisions Mela made, Spencer was undoubtedly an exception. They didn't say it, but you saw it in their eyes, and sometimes it became a bit unbearable. Mela was difficult, but she was good, and life had simply been too unfair to her.

You parked the car outside Spencer's complex and took your bag and Matilda's backpack with you, entering the building and starting to climb the stairs. You didn't have to wait too long outside the apartment, and in a couple of seconds, Spencer invited you in.

He was wearing sweatpants, a beige T-shirt, and over it, a long unbuttoned knitted vest.

"I made tea. Oh. Wait; Do you want herbal tea instead?" he offered immediately with courtesy.

"Herbal, please," you softly requested, sitting on the sofa, avoiding getting too comfortable, although you were so tired that you could very well stretch out and take off your heels. "I brought the cat," you added, taking out Matilda's favorite stuffed animal.

Spencer quickly took the crocheted toy. He had told you it was a gift from Penelope. One of her many talents, he commented—besides her programming skills and well-intentioned gossip—was creating these dedicated crocheted amigurumis. For one of his birthdays, she gave him a cardboard box with the cat inside, and despite it not being conceptual, Spencer couldn't help but note the symbolism in it. He quickly caught Matilda's interest as soon as she started exploring everything in her father's apartment, and Spencer decided to give it to her as a metaphorical gesture. That way, a part of him would always be with her.

"Schrödinger," he murmured, delicately taking the toy in his hands and looking at it for a few seconds before returning his attention to you. "I promised her I would put it in bed with her, so she'd wake up with him. It took me a while to get her to sleep tonight."

You rolled your eyes as he went to Matilda's room and returned. Matilda fell asleep right away with Spencer. She loved listening to him talk and always asked him for stories. At least Spencer still needed you to make sure he ate his meals.

"She's sound asleep. As soon as I put the toy next to her, she hugged it," Spencer went to the kitchen with a smile and came back with two steaming bowls of tea, handing you one. "I hope you don't mind the honey."

You sniffed the ginger and lemon tones and smiled. "Not at all," you replied. "Thanks."

Spencer sat in his seat across from you and looked at you with his lips in a thin line.

"I'm sorry for today. I really wanted to be on time."

You nodded, acknowledging his honest tone, and took a sip of your tea to gather some courage to do something you weren't used to doing with him; have a personal conversation.

"You could have been on time if you had told your colleagues that Matilda existed, you know? It makes things easier," you said calmly, not wanting to sound accusing. You didn't want to make him feel guilty; he surely had his reasons. The truth was that you were doing it because you had personally experienced the benefits of letting others know about the existence of a little person who depended on you. It made your life a bit more flexible, and you could adapt to Matilda's needs.

Spencer nodded slowly, as if he had expected that response.

"They were very surprised to see me with Matilda. I had to give a lot of explanations," he admitted, then released the accumulated air from his cheeks. "I guess if they didn't find out, then... my life as her father wouldn't feel boxed in," he tried to explain.

"Are you ashamed of being a father?" you asked in a tone of surprise. Even for you, that possibility seemed strange for someone like Spencer, who despite the complications, seemed to thoroughly enjoy his fatherhood and the time he spent with Tildie.

Spencer furrowed his brow at your question, almost offended. "What are you talking about? It's wonderful. Matilda is the most wonderful girl in the world. It's not that. It's... I feel that not mentioning it made it easier than explaining her existence. If I talk about Matilda, they'll ask about her mom, and if I talk about her mom, then I'll have to talk about everything I did wrong. About a past I want to forget."

Every word hurted you, but you couldn't be angry with him for thinking that way. You didn't talk very often unless it was about Matilda. You had never shared tea and discussed feelings. You figured that starting to do so felt hard to process. Even after a year and a few months since Spencer became involved in Matilda's life, you still didn't know the story that Spencer and Mela had shared, and to be honest, you weren't sure if you were ready to hear it.

"I'm sorry I forced you to have to talk to them about Tildie. It wasn't fair," you admitted with an uneasy tone in your voice.

"Don't worry," he shook his head. "They had to find out, and you have an important job to do."

You nervously bit your lips. "Was it tough explaining it to your boss?"

"Hotchner is a father; he understood my situation better than anyone. Although, of course, everyone was a bit angry, asking me why I hadn't asked for help."

"I figured if they're your friends, they would be a bit upset about that. At least J.J knew about her," you shrugged, trying to stay optimistic about it.

Spencer looked up at you and nodded calmly.

"Yes. J.J is my best friend; she wouldn't forgive me if I hadn't told her. I wish she had been there today; I know she would have supported me a bit. Although, thinking about it, Penelope made an effort to talk to me today just because her curiosity about Matilda is greater than her anger."

You hid a amused smile behind the tea cup. "She was lovely with me and Matilda. And she really looked completely flabbergasted," you added with amusement as you recalled her face.

Spencer stretched in his seat, leaning his head back with a relaxed and genuine smile. "If you had stayed, you would have seen Derek lose his mind."

"Don't get me wrong, I just want to know who Matilda is surrounded by when I'm not around, but I'm not worried because I know you wouldn't put anyone dangerous near her," you admitted, furrowing your brow, drinking the last part of your herbal tea. "I have to go home. I'm dying for a bath and my bed," you complained and went to the kitchen to leave your cup. Upon arrival, you found dirty pots, plates stained with food, and stacked in the dishwasher. You sent a look to Spencer.

"No, no. You don'thave to..." Spencer entered the kitchen, rubbing his eyes when he saw you roll up your sleeves and start washing. "I'll do it."

"You were about to die on that couch; your dark circles have dark circles," you accused. "And Matilda will probably wake you up because she's been having nightmares about some monsters she saw in Aliens."

"Why would she watch Aliens?" Spencer asked.

"Because she knows how to use the TV. My father, who loves Sigourney Weaver, was babysitting her; it was all a bad combination. Now she wants to work in space."

Spencer stifled a laugh with a mix of pride and amusement. "That little witch," he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck and frowned. "I think you should talk to your father about what Matilda should and shouldn't watch."

You couldn't help but laugh ironically.

"Oh, yeah. I'll try that," you replied, whistling with humor. "Although I think he'd listen to you more. Did you know I tried seafood in my first year of life? Dad didn't want to listen to the pediatrician and gave me oysters."

"You're kidding" Spencer tilted his head in defeat.

You flashed a wistful smile.

"That's how we found out Mela was allergic. Very allergic," you added. Suddenly, the mention of your sister seemed to intensify the air in the kitchen. Both of you tensed, and silence filled the space. You looked at the clean dishes. "Done," you announced after a few minutes when everything was cleaned, and you walked into the living room for your bag. "Hey, in the backpack, I brought some word games to work on her pronunciation. The Rs are giving her trouble, and she's starting to read words."

"What? When?" Spencer asked surprised.

"Uh... it was like... three or four days ago. It's not surprising. My house is full of books, and so is yours. I'm always reading to her, and you tell her stories before bedtime. It's not a big deal, really; it could be worse."

"What could be worse?" Spencer laughed halfheartedly. "Now, I have to filter everything she reads. There are things in my library that aren't for a 2-year-old."

"One and nine months," you corrected him with humor. "I know, but listen to this; Benjamin, the son of a friend, started talking at two, and the only way he communicated was by talking super fast because he wanted to imitate the rappers he listened to on his phone." You shrugged. "It could be worse," you emphasized and smiled "I also brought two books that are totally perfect for her, and you won't have to filter them, Papa Bear."

Spencer sighed. "I know you take care of everything. Thank you." He sounded honest and grateful, but there was something in his look that concerned you.

You couldn't help but worry about him too.

"What's going on?" you asked, and even before Spencer denied anything, you insisted with a half-smile, "Come on, you can tell me."

You watched his lips tremble with doubt before responding.

"It's Matilda," he murmured. "I'm not sure if I really want this for her."

You furrowed your brow. "Want what?"

"All of this; reading at two and a half , knowing how to use technological devices, and all that," he explained.

You looked at him, confused, and gently shook your head, taking a step toward him.

"She's very bright. I know not everything is inherited, but there's a clear genetic predisposition, and to be honest, we've both encouraged her. And that's not a bad thing. The truth is, she's wonderful."

"I know!" he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up at the mere description of Tildie. You knew he loved her deeply; that kind of reaction couldn't be faked. "But I went through this. It's enormous pressure. Kids teased me, and I was always alone. I couldn't have friends my age."

You nodded, trying to understand. You had lived in an isolated place, and Mela had always been your best friend. However, making new friends was never a problem for you. You still maintained friendships from school and university. It hadn't been a problem for you, but you saw children daily struggling to connect with others and constantly being excluded for being different.

"Well, here's the thing; maybe I don't have superior intelligence in my genes, but I have the ability to defend myself very well. You can trust that Matilda will be brilliant and learn to stand on her own. We won't let her suffer for being different. She'll never be alone, I swear "

He looked at you hesitantly. "Do you promise?"

You slightly furrowed your brow, looking at him with more tenderness than you thought you'd feel for him. He looked vulnerable, and for the first time, you stopped seeing the genius doctor. You stopped seeing the man who slept with your sister and then left her. You stopped seeing the licentiate you met in a university cafe. You saw Matilda's father, loving her and caring enough to tell you, his fears and you had no idea how much it meant to you until now.

"Of course," you smiled. "And my father won't let anyone bully her. I promise." You tried to break the ice, successfully eliciting a smile from Spencer. "Besides, she won't be the only brilliant girl. She'll have you. No one else will understand her better than you."

After that, he studied you calmly.

"You look tired. I'm sorry I was late today; otherwise, I would have picked up the little witch, and you would have gone straight home after your meeting."

You shrugged again. "No use crying over spilled milk. Just try to do better next week if you're in town at least."

"I will be, and we'll have break for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I'll call your parents."

You swallowed with surprise and discomfort, covering the emotions with a smile. Great, now you'd spend Christmas in the countryside with Spencer and your parents. All together and without Mela. Yey.

"I'll say goodbye to Matilda and head home," you announced, carefully walking to her room and giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead. The little one continued to sleep peacefully even after the gesture. You saw her beautiful lips open as she let out a relaxed sigh and smiled.

You couldn't quite describe how the love for her burned in your chest. It was akin to a sip of good whiskey, but without any consequences. You said your goodbyes, knowing she wouldn't hear, and left the room Spencer had prepared for her. You said your goodbyes to him, who tiredly gave you a smile and a wave. You left with your heart pounding, as it always did when you walked away from Matilda, deciding not to think about how lonely your house would be when you got there.

#criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic

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boldlyvoid · 2 years

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Eddie Munson Masterlist

Eddie Munson x Female reader

Figure it out | 4k

Movie and a Cuddle night starts out a bit differently this week...

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after a long week apart, they can barely make it through the front door without ravaging each other

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To make some extra cash before Christmas, Y/N takes a job stocking the grocery store shelves at midnight, unbeknownst to her that her high school crush also works there

Stocking Stuffers | 13.9k Part two^

Christmas is the season for giving

Meanie | 2.8k

She’s needy and sometimes he’s mean about it.

Pathetic | 3.7k

she wants a try at being in control

Poison Me | 1.9k

Having sex at parties is their thing, even if they're not dressed as themselves

Heartbreak Princess |2.5k

After breaking up with her on the phone and ignoring her, Y/N and her band, decide to play a special gig at the hideout... right before Eddie's set to go on and play.

Dear Eddie | 6.8k

a summer fling between best friends ends in heartbreak

Question | 4.6k part two^ After coming back from “the dead” Eddie adjusts to being a dad

Dear Reader | 3.8k Part 3^ Eddie likes to make things for his family

Love, Eddie | 6.2k Part 4^ The new Mr. and Mrs. Munson finally have their baby... and another one.

Weed be good together | 3.8k

Eddie overhears the cheerleaders bullying someone their supposedly friends with and decides he wants to make her his friend instead

Help me hold onto you | 5k part two ^

This love | 7.5k part three ^

Midnights | 4.5K

a collection of stories while Eddie works the night shift at the plant to support his family.

Double Trouble | 7.2k (slight steve x reader, angst, unhappy ending)

Dustin's older sister has a choice to make... between the guy who's always been there and the dealer she met a few hours ago.

Double Cross | 4.2k part two^

A wet dream just dangling | 3.7K

As her best friend, he was always there to answer any question she had... he just never expected her to talk about how smoking weed makes her horny but not wet.

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Late nights, Early Mornings Afternoons (wet dream part 2)

Head Over Heels | 4.4k

2 best friends on their 2nd and 3rd retake of Senior Year finally admit their feelings for each other

Princess Hellfire | SFW series

Summary: in Junior year, Eddie sits beside the new girl in his Science class not expecting her to become his best friend in the entire world

Surprise Surprise | SFW | 1k

he just wanted to know why she was so distant

The Whore of Babylon | NSFW | 7K | eddie, gareth, jeff and Kevin x reader

Eddie's friends are Virgins, and His Girlfriend has a Virginity kink

Eddie Munson x Original Characters

Come on, Eileen | Series

Eileen Mayfield moves to Hawkins in the wake of her step-brother's death, to care for her little sister, Max. The last thing she expects is to fall in love with their new neighbour at the trailer park

Eddie x Spencer Reid x Reader

The freak, geek and miss Indiana

3 unlikely friends choose to spend the rest of their life together

#eddie munson #masterlist

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tenpintsof-sundrop · 7 months

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Hey everyone! If you don't know me, I'm Sundrop. You can call me any nickname you want - including Nisha, Bunnie, Sunny, whatever. I use she/her pronouns, I'm autistic, bisexual, and polyamarous. I am chronically ill, and I often make posts about my struggles with disability and medical trauma. I am into horror movies, DC, Fall Out Boy, badass female characters and pathetic whimpering men, and cheesy reality shows from the 2000s, among many other things.

I am a fanfic writer, and right now my main fandom is The Walking Dead. If you want to see all the fanfiction I have written for all the fandoms I enjoy, then you can view my Main Masterlist or my AO3. (Note - my AO3 is archive locked, so you will need an account to view it.)

If you want to see my new fics when they are posted, follow my fanfiction sideblog @sundrop-writes and turn on notifications there. This blog is mainly for my personal bs - reblogs of things I like, random ramblings about my fandoms, thirsting over the characters I love, updates about fics I am writing. So if you wanna see that stuff, definitely follow me here.

Sunny's Monthly Movie Rec: Birds of Prey (2020)

Song Of The Day: One & Only by Fall Out Boy and Timbaland

Currently Watching: The Walking Dead (Season 5) and RuPaul's Drag Race (Season 2)

Currently Working On: Heaven's Gate (aka 'The Reunion Fic') - Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader. Strangers to Lovers/Lovers Reunited. Set during Season 5. (With many moments during other seasons.) You and Daryl get separated during the attack on the Prison, and just when you have lost hope of ever finding each other, a small symbol of 'good luck' from the past makes you realize that he's closer to you than he's ever been.

Most Recent Work: Careful - Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader (Series)

#sundrop speaks #pinned post

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reidselle · 2 years

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spencer reid with kids >>>

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 3 years

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I want mommy! | Spencer Reid x reader

Summary: You have to work and Spencer has to watch your little girl. However, she makes it very clear she wants her mommy instead.

A/N: had this idea while eating my lunch and decided to give it a whirl. I hope you guys enjoy xx fluff fluff fluff

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

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“Spencer,” You call out, heading up the stairs to the bedroom where he was getting ready to go into work.

“Yes?” He meets you in the hallway, finishing his tie, “What’s up?”

You sigh, “I have to go into work for a little while today. Is there anyway you could stay home with y/d/n? The babysitter is busy so I have no one else to watch her.” You only worked on certain days and the other days you were at home with your daughter.

Spencer grins and nods, “Of course. I’ll call Hotch.”

You let out a sigh of relief, “Oh thank god. Okay well, I’m going to head into work then. She’s still sleeping but should be up soon. You think you can handle everything?” You grab your purse off the dresser and look at Spencer.

He unties his tie, throwing it on the bed, “Yeah of course.” He smiles, “We haven’t had a day together in a while. I’m excited.” Sadly, Spencer isn’t home too often due to work, but whenever he is, he spends the time with you and your daughter.

“Okay well, there is plenty of food in the pantry,” You dig through your purse and find your keys, “Call me if you need anything okay?” You give him a kiss, “I mean it. I will come home.”

He chuckles, “y/n, we’ll be fine. Go to work.”

You groan a little, “Okay okay. I love you.” kissing him once more you head out the door and drive to work.

Its about an hour later when your daughter makes her way down the stairs, wiping the sleep from her eyes. She’s in her pjs and has bed head, her hair sticking in different directions “Where’s mommy?” She asks when she sees Spencer on the couch.

“Hey bug.” He smiles, pausing his show and coming to meet her at the stairs. He picks her up, “She had to go into work for a little while but she’ll be home later. You and I get to spend the day together. How does that sound?” He pokes her side, earning a soft giggle.

The day started down hill when Spencer made breakfast. She wanted pancakes and of course, Spencer was going to give his little girl anything she asked for. However, it wasn’t mommy’s pancakes.

“Mommy does them better!” Your little girl cries, “She puts the strawberries and whip cream on them!”

“Oh honey okay okay, look here I can do that.” He grabs the strawberries and whip cream from the fridge, coming to her. But he put the strawberries on wrong, sending her into another fit.

“I want mommy.” She cries, “Mommy does it better.”

He whimpers softly, not quite sure how to handle this situation, “Mommy had to go to work baby. She’ll be back soon.” I mean how hard is it to make pancakes?

She continues to cry, snot and tears on her face.

“bug it’s okay.” He stays calm, grabbing tissues to wipe her face, which she lets him do. He picks her up, her head going to his shoulder, “Why don’t you show me how mommy does them for you. Yeah?”

She sniffles and nods into his shoulder, looking at the plate. “Okay, what does she do?”

She points her little hand at the whip cream, “Make eyes and mouth.”

He does as she instructs, “Does she put the strawberries on the eyes?”

She nods and sniffles again, “And on mouth.”

He aligns the strawberries on the mouth, “There.. is that how she does it?”

She nods into his shoulder. He lets out a sigh of relief, putting her back in the seat. She happily begins to eat the pancakes. Spencer sips his coffee, who knew his little girl was so picky?

“bug you have to take a nap.” Spencer begs from his daughters bedside. It was way past her nap time. She was irritated and fighting sleep.

“I want mommy.” She cries, holding the stuffed animal tightly against her chest. “I don’t want to nap.”

“Mommy is at work.” He sighs, “But i promise when you wake up from your nap she’ll be home!”

She shakes her head, “mommy!”

Spencer was at a loss. It’s not like he didn’t know your little girl. But it seemed this particular day, your daughter didn’t want anything to do with him. And he figures it’s because her routine was changed and sometimes that can mess with her. He pulls his phone out, dialing your number.

You answer quietly, sitting at your desk at work and thinking the worst, “What’s wrong?” You can hear her crying through the phone, “What’s wrong with her? Why’s she crying?”

Spence runs a hand over his hair, “She won’t take a nap. She wants you. She’s been like this for over an hour.”

You sigh, “Oh Spence.. did you try a cup of warm milk and rocking her?”

“No I didnt.. I read her a story like usual.” He says, “But that didn’t work.”

“at nap time she likes the milk and rocking her. I always do that now.”

“When did you start that? I thought it was read a book, make sure she has her animal and boom, nap time.”

You laugh softly, “I’m sorry I should have told you. Look, I can come home now? You want me too?”

“No no, I’ll do the milk and rock her.” he sighs looking to his little girl, “She hates me, y/n.”

“Spence, she doesn’t hate you. She adores you. She just doesn’t like her routine changed, but sometimes it can’t be avoided, like today.”

“You’re right.. Okay well get back to work.”

“Okay, call me if you need something, okay? I love you spece.”

“Love you too.” He hangs up the phone, “y/d/n you want some warm milk?”

He’s currently rocking her as she sleeps soundly in his arms. You were right. After having her milk, he rocked her and soon she was out like a light. He kisses her head, trying to tame that bed head from this morning. When did she get so big? He asks himself. It felt like yesterday he was doing this, except she was only a small newborn. He sighs and lets his eyes drift closed.

You quietly walk in and find the two of them in the rocking chair, both sound asleep and mouths agape. You smile at the sight. Your daughter took after Spencer; his eyes, his nose and his brains. Grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch, you lay it over them and place a kiss on their heads.

comments, reblogs and likes are always appreciated xx

Criminal Minds tag list: @thelovelydreamer17 , @la-vie-en-amour1 , @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 , @astra-inclinant-sed-non-obligant (possibly: @astra-x-inclinant) , @lolychu , @varsityalthete , @televisiondreamstomorrow , @harry-hollands , @lumineshawn , @lyss-xoxoo , @rexorangecouny , @sassy-hades , @britishspidey , @ateez-star , @l0ve-0f-my-life , @ceeellewrites , @newtkyloskywalkerstiliski , @in-some-fandoms , @muffin-cup

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 4 months

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New Beginnings

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: New city. New job. New school. New apartment,. New neighbors. New beginnings.

Square Filled: choose your own au for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

This is a new start for you. New city. New apartment. New neighbors. New job. A fresh start from your old life. Growing up, you’ve always been a small-town girl with hopes of moving to a big city to chase her dreams. Back home, everyone knew everyone’s business. Like when Shelly from church was caught having an affair with the pastor. Her husband found out that day and both of them had to leave town to avoid the scrutiny of everyone else. Or like the time when your sister got pregnant and only told a small group of people only to go to work the next day and people knew.

Small-town folk aren’t for everyone which is why you left while you could. The only problem is that all your family is back home. You know no one in Quantico, Virginia. You guess that’s the best part about it. You can reinvent yourself and create a whole new life separate from what you’ve known.

Before moving to Virginia, you got yourself enrolled in night school for graphic design since you’ve always wanted to be a designer. You’ve done some work for your town like making websites for businesses and making some ads for smaller companies but you want to know more so you can do bigger and better things.

Tomorrow, you’ll scout the city and find a coffee shop to make your second home, find the nearest grocery store, etc. Right now, all you’re focused on is getting all your boxes out of the moving truck so you can return it before the deadline. You’re doing it by yourself but you don’t have a lot to do. You never had a lot when you left your hometown but it’s still a lot for one person to do.

It takes you all day to get everything inside your house, and the only thing you’re able to unpack is your bedframe and mattress. It’s going to take all week to get most everything set up which is fine because night school doesn't start for another two weeks.

You live in a building that sits in a circle of other buildings with a huge courtyard in the middle. The courtyard consists of a dog park, a pool, a volleyball set, and some outdoor furniture where people can sit and eat. Your building is right across from another so you can see into people’s apartments if their curtains are open.

Your phone rings and you answer it while admiring the other buildings.

“Hey, mom.”

“Y/N! Did you get in okay?”

“Yeah, I just set up my bed. I’ll start unpacking tomorrow.”

“I’m sad you’re so far from us but I’m happy for you. Does that make sense?” she chuckles. “Anyway, your dad and I will come visit as soon as he gets this new promotion. He’ll get some time off and we can always use the vacation.”

“Yeah, by then, I’ll have seen some places we can go to. You like history and Virginia is a history-rich state.”

“Okay, I just wanted to know if you got in safe. Your dad and I are going out with the folks from church. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure. I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

The building across from yours is close enough to where you could communicate with another resident if you shouted but you’re not going to disturb others, especially at night. The sun is still up but is quickly going down, leaving the sky with pretty colors. There is a young man sitting on his small balcony with a book in his hands minding his own business. Every apartment has a small balcony where people can sit and enjoy the fresh air, but most of them use it for storage.

The young man runs his fingers down the pages of the book and flips through the book at a shocking speed. Is he really reading that fast? He must feel your eyes on him because he looks up and makes eye contact with you. You give him a small wave to which he returns before going back to reading.

You look at the boxes inside your room and see a label on one of them that reads: ARTS AND CRAFTS. You open the box to see thick small poster boards you were using for a project back home. Next to them are your markers so you grab the black one and a handful of poster boards. You write “Hi, my name is Y/N” on one of them before going back outside.

The man looks up just as you hold up your poster board for him to see. You wrote the letters in a thick font so he is able to read them from where he’s at. He reads what you have and leaves the balcony to go back inside his apartment. The smile is lost from your face at the thought of making him uncomfortable but then he walks back out with poster boards of his own. He writes something down on his and shows it to you.

Hi. My name is Spencer.

You like reading?

I love it.

You new here?

No, been here 13 years. You new?

Yes, I came from Kansas.

Job?

Graphic Designer. You?

FBI.

Sounds exotic.

Spencer smiles at this. Some of his nighttime preparations are to read for an hour before bed, and he was at the forty-five-minute mark when you two started talking.

I have to go. Talk tomorrow?

Tomorrow.

Spencer packs up his poster boards and heads back inside, and you follow suit a few minutes later. You’re going to need to buy more poster boards if you want to continue talking to him across the courtyard. Tomorrow comes and you end up finding a grocery store, a coffee shop, and a place that sells a lot of poster boards.

Spencer must have a day job because you didn’t see him at all while you were unpacking. You started with the kitchen and barely finished with it by the time Spencer got back from his job as an FBI agent. Wow, imagine that. A real-life FBI agent. You’ve only seen them in movies and TV shows so it's kind of cool you get to say you know someone in that field.

You sit on your balcony and wait for him to come out. Ten minutes go by and you see the light in his place turn on. Five more later, he walks out on his balcony with poster boards in hand. He doesn’t look too good. Yesterday, he had a natural glow about him but today, he has a sort of sadness about him. Still, he’s out here talking to you because he enjoys your company even though you’re in separate buildings.

You okay?

Rough case.

You want to talk?

Can’t. Open investigation. Of course. Duh. He flips the poster board over and scribbles something else on it. How was your day?

Good. Just school. I graduate Fall 2027.

Field of study?

Graphic Design.

Anything I’d see of yours?

You grin and write down a website you helped design before showing it to him. He takes one look at it and types it on his phone. He admires your work and thinks it’s amazing work. You have real talent.

I like it. You’re talented.

Even from where you’re at, you can see how sad he is. You’re not sure what he’s dealt with today or what he is going through, but you hope to make it better at least a little bit. You have to use two posterboards for this to get your message across.

Don’t let your job strip you of who you are. No job is worth it if you’re losing yourself.

You got Spencer to smile.

Same to you.

As the days progress, you and Spencer make it a nightly routine of talking to each other through poster boards. During the day, you’re unpacking boxes and getting your home ready while Spencer is at work dealing with the worst of the worst. His job isn’t easy but seeing you every night lifts his spirits.

That is until he stops showing up. You gave him a couple of days without bothering him since he might be caught up in something for work, but after seeing his light every night without him coming to the balcony, you know something is wrong. You don’t know who he is fully, but you do know that he would come talk to you if he was feeling up for it.

“Any sights of your secret lover?” one of your best friends, Marcy, says over the phone.

“No, he’s still held up in his apartment,” you say and look out the window to his.

“I bet he’s not even an FBI agent. Maybe he lied to you,” Rebecca, your other friend, says.

“I don’t think so. Maybe he just needs some time alone. I don’t know a lot about him. He can only fit so much on small poster boards.”

“It’s giving You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift,” Marcy chuckles.

“I think you should go over there and talk to him face-to-face.”

“Yeah, I have to agree with Bec. It’s not like he’s your next-door neighbor. If it doesn’t work out, you don’t have to see him in passing.”

“True,” you bite your lower lip. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Let us know how it goes,” Bec smirks.

“Oh, I will. Wish me luck.”

“Luck!” both girls say at the same time before hanging up.

You turn back to Spencer’s apartment and see the light peeking through the curtains. You count the number of floors he’s off the ground and the number of apartments he’s at from the wall so you know where to start. You’re not sure what you’re going to do when you get there but you’ll think of something on the spot.

You have some cookies left over from when you made some a few days ago, so you box those up and make your way over to the building across from yours. Your keycard works for this building even though you’re not a resident in it because you’re a resident overall. Once inside his building, you make your way up to the fifth floor and the tenth apartment from the wall.

Here goes nothing.

You knock twice on the door and wait for someone to answer it. It might not even be his apartment but you’ll try all of them if you have to. A few moments later, Spencer opens the door with a confused look on his face. When he sees you, his eyes widen slightly.

“Wow,” he breathes.

“What?”

“You’re more beautiful in person.”

Your cheeks heat up at his compliment.

“I brought you some cookies. I hope you’re doing okay. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he sighs. “Work has just been… yeah, it’s not fun sometimes.”

“I can only imagine which is why I brought some cookies.”

“Would you like to come in?”

“Yes,” you smile.

You walk inside and immediately notice all the poster boards he’s been using to communicate with you. He’s saved every single one of them and that brings a smile to your face. You never thought you’d meet someone this quickly after moving to a new city, but you’re glad you did.

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