cerisereids

[cerisereids]

𝗛𝗮𝘀𝗵 𝗕𝗿𝗼𝘄𝗻, 𝗘𝗴𝗴 𝗬𝗼𝗹𝗸, 𝗜 𝗪𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗔𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗬𝗼𝘂- 𝗦.𝗥.

Pairing- mom!reader x s18!Spencer Reid

WC- just under 1k

Summary- Spencer enjoys a quiet moment with his wife and child. If would have known 20 years ago he’d ever be so happy, he would’ve laughed hysterically.

Contains- just a bunch of dad!Spencer fluff, one super quick Maeve mention, Spencer being the best dad ever, not proofread we die like men

A/N- divider from @thecutestgrotto!

Spencer Reid, an accomplished man of three PHDs, is on cleanup duty. The sleeves of his linen pajamas are rolled up to the elbow, his hand gripping a wet dish cloth. It's just as well, really. Cooking with a three year old activates his need to clean immensely.

"Do you want to crack the eggs?" his wife asked, gripping two white ovals in her dexterous fingers. The sight alone is enough to make his stomach turn, let alone the idea of his baby girl trying to not get shells in the egg mixture. He loves them both with everything in him. That doesn't mean he's confident in their coordination.

"Yeah!" She yells in excitement. He can't help but smile, despite his anxiety.

"Alright, you have to be really careful. No shells in the bowl now, got it?" She holds up a finger to baby Diana's chubby face, slowly handing off an egg.

Diana is oh so careful. Her two chubby hands cradle the egg, balancing it in her right hand. She hits it once, twice against the counter, a bubbly shriek spilling from her lips when it cracks.

Spencer's heart swells at the two loves of his life, working so hard on making the perfect Sunday breakfast. They have the same crease of concentration between their eyebrows. The sight feels like the sun has taken home in his chest, warming him from the inside out.

"Good job! Now crack it over the bowl!" His wife instructs, and she pulls apart the shell, the gooey liquid sloshing in the bowl.

"No shells!" She squeaks, a fierce look of pride on her face.

"Atta girl!" Spencer holds his hand up for a high five, his wife's hand running up and down her back. She kisses Diana's head before cracking another one, giving Diana the last one.

He grabs a fork, whisking the eggs together as his two girls move on to the pancake batter. His wife pours powdered Bisquick in the bowl, giving Diana measuring cups full of milk to pour in.

She approaches Spencer, sleep still lingering in her eye. Her hands graze his waist as she passes, whispering a soft, "Do you want some coffee?" in his ear.

"Please," he nods, placing a chaste kiss on her lips before she goes.

He moves to his baby girl next, his hands wrapping around her soft tummy. She's still little enough for both his hands to fit all the way around her. That won't be for long, though he tries not to think about it. The way she sprouts up gives him at least ten gray hairs a day.

"Daddy look!" She squeals, ever so proud of her work. "Pancakes!" She claps her hands in excitement, splaying powder as she did.

Spencer sneezes at the contact, and a peel of giggles spill from her lips.

"Dada!" She gasps between laughs. Spencer can't help it, he laughs too.

"Diana, was that silly?" He asks, pressing his lips to her head.

"Yes! So silly Dad!" she throws a hand up to her face, like she can't even help herself.

She's too much, so much that he scoops her up, long fingers digging into her tummy in a vicious tickle. She screams even louder, her giggles multiplying in speed and pitch.

"What is going on over there?!" His wife asks as the coffee begins percolating. The strong earthy scent fills the kitchen, easing his uncaffeinated system.

"Daddy is being too silly!" Diana breathes as Spencer slows his attack.

"He loves to be silly, he's good at that. Don't fall for it, he'll still get you!" She waves a spatula at Diana, who just snuggles into him.

He watches his wife, the early morning light filtering through the kitchen window. It cloaks her in a golden haze, like their own personal angel.

Spencer gets a quick flash of the past 20 years, of everything that's led to this moment. Joining the bureau, his eventual decision to leave, accepting a linguistics position at Georgetown, meeting the prettiest European literature professor, his wedding and the birth of Diana...he's baffled.

He thought love like this only existed for other people. He'd seen his colleagues earn it and lose it, seen them grieve and celebrate. He'd learned to be fine without it, especially after Maeve. He just accepted he was one of those people it didn't happen to, that he was always meant to be alone. He'd seen the beauty in it, the freedom in doing whatever he pleased.

It was all well and good, but the love that fills his kitchen now is thick, sticky and sweet. It fills him up like warm cocoa. His wife reaches out for the two of them, wrapping them both in her arms as far as they'll let her. For the first time in his life, Spencer Reid is truly content.

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Ahhh thank you so much this means so much! I love your writing too, I’m so happy you like dad!spencer because there will be lots more coming 🩷🩷🩷

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Spencer Reid core

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Hotch’s handwriting is very important.