Some oneshots of your favorites!
I write for:
- Avengers/MCU
- Criminal Minds
- Harry Potter
- Star Wars
- The Originals
- The 100
- Twilight
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I own none of these characters. All rights go to their respective creator:
- Stan Lee (Avengers/MCU)
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( Y / N )
Being married to Dr. Spencer Reid is 95% amazing. He's adorable, a genius, tall, smells good all the time and gives fantastic cuddles. He's gentle, considerate, and quiet. He's perfect.
What isn't perfect is the amount of danger his job comes with. Every time he leaves for a case, you get a total of three hours of sleep each night. You know he's needed because he's amazing at his job, but sometimes you wish he had a normal job. Like a professor or something.
Maybe then you wouldn't be afraid to tell him you're pregnant.
While Spencer is a great profiler, I've known him long enough to know how to hide things. You're thirteen weeks along and you're starting to show, which isn't good. You can only wear oversized sweatshirts in the spring for so long before Spencer gets worried.
You lounge on the couch watching Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban. You suck on a spoonful of salted caramel ice cream. waiting for Spencer to get home from his four-day-long case in California. Right on cue, the keys to your house jingle and the door closes. You shoot off the couch and into the entryway. Spencer puts his bags down in time to catch you. He stumbles back, his arms wrapping around your waist.
"Hello to you, too," he chuckles. You kiss his jaw before his lips, smiling into the kiss.
"I missed you," you say once you pull away. He slips off his shoes without removing his arm from your waist.
"I missed you." Yoou walk into the kitchen where you have spaghetti waiting for him. You finished it five minutes before he got home so it would still be warm. "You cooked?" He asks, picking up a plate and piling on food.
"You sound surprised," you muse, leaning against the island. He shrugs, grinning at you.
"I'm not. I just didn't know if you'd feel well enough to do so." You furrow your eyebrows.
"I'm fine. Why would you think otherwise?" He points to the ice cream on the coffee table.
"You eat salted caramel when you're on your period." You smile, finding it cute that he recognizes that. Although, you shouldn't be surprised.
"I'm okay. I was listening to Harry Potter while cooking. Kept my mind off of it," you half-lie.
"It's not your time of the month." You stop breathing. You look up at him as he's casually sprinkling on the parmesan cheese. You sigh. It's time to come clean.
"I know. It's not my period," you admit. He sets his plate down on the table and looks at you expectantly. He narrows his eyes at your fidgety stature.
"(Y/N), what's wrong?" he questions, walking over to you. He puts his hands on your shoulders. "Hey. You can talk to me." You swallow.
"I know. I know, I just— I just don't—" you cut yourself off before you stutter anymore. You look into his eyes and see nothing but love and concern. "I'm pregnant." His eyes widen and he steps back.
