haleysreid

[haleysreid]

You let out a deep, exaggerated sigh as you try to get comfortable on the couch. You’ve been trying unsuccessfully for about twenty minutes now, shifting awkwardly and rearranging pillows. Being six and a half months pregnant with twins, comfort doesn’t really come easily these days. You’re just about to give up and head to the kitchen to find a snack (you’re craving pickles dipped in peanut butter for the third pregnancy in a row) when you hear the front door unlock and open softly.

You smile to yourself. It was a quiet Friday night and Penelope had offered to take Didi and Ollie for the weekend. “I need some time with my two favorite Reids,” she told Spencer, followed by “no offense to you and Y/N, but they’re arguably a lot cuter and more fun.” She had a point.

“Hey, bubs,” Spencer whispers as hangs his coat up and sets his satchel down on the kitchen table. He kisses the side of your head and you breathe in his scent, comforting and familiar after being with him for the past seven years. You grab his hand and play with his wedding band for a bit, before bringing it to rest on your protruding belly.

A smile creeps across his face, and it’s the kind of smile from him that’s your favorite because it reaches his pretty, honey colored eyes. “How are our little acorn squashes today?” he asks, eliciting a giggle from you. Just like when you were pregnant with Didi and again with Ollie, you decided to not find out the sex of the babe until they’re born. Because of this, Spencer has been referring to the babies by whatever fruit or vegetable they’re the size off according to your pregnancy app. Your personal favorite was when they were the size of sweet potatoes.

“Pretty good, one of them has been kicking like there’s no tomorrow all afternoon. I think we might have a soccer prodigy on our hands,” you joke, placing your hand atop his where it rested lovingly on your bump. He lets out a sheepish laugh followed by one of his cute little nose scrunches. It’s something he doesn’t even realize he does but makes your heart feel like it’s going to explode out of your chest with love for him every single time he does it.

“Sweetheart, this child is going to have us as parents. They’ll probably be a prodigy of some kind, but definitely not anything athletic,” he quips, and you just chuckle because as usual, he’s right. You look up and meet his gaze, leaning into him as he comes in for a kiss. “Mmm, did you eat something minty?” you ask, licking your lips. “Yup, peppermint ice cream. Snuck some from the break room before I left work. I also may have stolen the carton out of the freezer and brought it home with me, don’t tell JJ because I’m pretty sure it was hers.”

You laugh and kiss him again, not wanting to let go, wanting him to hold on forever. “Want to fix your loving, pregnant wife a bowl and we can watch a movie? I’ll let you pick this time,” you say, knowing it’ll probably be some obscure foreign film without subtitles, but not minding because that would usually lead to him doing a simultaneous whisper translation in your ear the entire time. And that would usually lead to your clothes coming off because the feeling of his warm breath on your neck was sure to become too much. Which sounded like a good idea to you.

“Of course, bubs. You get comfortable on the couch and I’ll change clothes and be right down, okay? I love you,” he says and places a soft kiss to your nose. No matter how many times he tells you that, no matter how long it’s been, your heart still flutters like it’s the first time. He heads upstairs to change out of his work clothes and you flop down on the couch where you had been before Spencer got home. You cover yourself with your favorite blanket, the one Emily gifted the two of you when you were pregnant with Didi. It’s white and fluffy, and smells like Spencer after the two of you cuddling underneath it pretty much every night he’s been home for the past four years.

After a few minutes, your husband joins you on the couch, two bowls of the requested peppermint ice cream in hand. He hands you yours with a peck on your forehead. “Mmm, thanks, Spence. What should we watch tonight?” you inquire. “What about Aristocats?” he suggests, making you laugh out loud. “A Disney movie? You know we dropped the kids off with Penelope for the weekend, right?” you tease. “Not just a Disney movie, babe. Aristocrats is the best cinematic representation of cats of all time. They’re animals, but they still have their sophistication,” he quips, a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth.”

“Didn’t you give that same speech to Didi once?” you ask, your fingers intertwining underneath the blanket. “Probably when I was trying to get her to watch something other than A Bug’s Life for the fiftieth time that week,” he muses. When you started your day, you didn’t expect to end it by watching the Aristocats of all things. But hey, if it meant you got to spend the night holding your sweet husband close like this, you didn’t really mind.

(The night may or may not have ended with Penelope facetiming you minutes after you and Spencer had finished having sex with your four year old daughter in hysterics because she forgot her ladybug stuffed animal at home. “I can totally tell you guys just had sex, but can you please bring Diana her lovebug so she stops screaming? I think I’ve gone deaf in one ear. Thank you!!”)

[haleysreid]