Criminal Minds Imagines

dad bod love -spencer

in this imagine he's not actually a dad, but it takes place in the later seasons when he has more of that "dad bod" look that I'm sure we all adore! Anyways, hope you enjoy!~🌸

Also❗️ spoiler alert for season 11/12 I believe?❗️

The team was riding high.

The takedown was successful, with the unsub taken into custody alive and three victims saved.

So when everyone gathered in the break room at the NYPD station for a short celebration before heading to the hotel, you were surprised to see your boyfriend missing. Your heart fluttered anxiously.

Where did he go?

You wandered over to Prentiss, who was smiling as she accepted 'thank you's from the local officers, offering them the same gesture in return.

"Hey, Em?" You asked, an edge of nerves evident in your tone, "Have you seen Spence since we got back?"

Her smile faded as she noticed your concern, "Yeah, I saw him head to the bathroom. Everything okay?"

You nodded as you peered over her shoulder, "Uh, yeah, everything's fine."

She gave you a look but didn't press further, giving you a simple pat on the shoulder, "You did great out there today."

You thanked her, and watched as she walked over to Rossi before training your eyes back on the bathroom door. You all had been back for nearly thirty minutes.

Your first thought was maybe that Spencer had gotten sick, so you decided to go check.

It was a single stall bathroom with a lock, so you didn't have to worry about disrupting anyone else in there. You knocked quietly.

"Spence...? Everything okay in there?" You called as nonchalantly as possible.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine, don't worry, it's just...um...my pants zipper got stuck," he said quickly, obviously lying.

"Spencer, please..." you sighed.

You heard shuffling and for a moment you thought he was ignoring you. Then the lock clicked and the door cracked open enough for you to enter.

Spencer was leaning back against the sink, his hair sticking up, most likely from pulling at it, and his FBI vest discarded across the floor. His eyes were noticeably red and damp from crying, which immediately alarmed you.

"Hey," you spoke softly, closing the door and locking it behind you, "bub, what's going on?"

"I-I don't know," he whimpered.

"Why is your FBI vest on the floor? Did it feel too restricting? I know that happens when you get overwhelmed sometimes-"

"It's too small," he pouted, fresh tears welling up in his eyes.

"It felt too small?" You asked, gently reaching up to cup his face as you neared him.

He shook his head quickly, "No, it is too small. I've gotten too fat for it."

Your jaw dropped open and you took a step back so you could fully look at him, "Spencer...what on earth are you talking about?"

He ran a hand through his hair, aggravated, and tugged at the ends, "Even Emily noticed! She said, 'glad to see you've finally grown into your vest.'"

Your expression softened and you chuckled slightly, remembering Emily's words, "Spence, it was metaphorical, she was talking about your take down of the unsub earlier. When she first met you, you could barely shoot your gun! She's proud of you, baby. And so am I."

His brows furrowed and he looked at you with wide eyes, "You mean...she wasn't actually talking about the vest?"

You shook your head incredulously. You closed the space between you, placing one hand on his chest and squishing his cheeks affectionately with the other, causing his nose to scrunch up playfully.

"For a doctor, you can be pretty oblivious to social cues sometimes," you giggled, releasing his cheeks in favor of playing with his fluffy curls.

He sighed, "I have gained some weight though, in these past few years."

You gave him a look, "Some healthy weight. A few years ago, Spence, you were in prison. And barely eating. You were skinny but you were at your worst health-wise."

He winced at the memory, "Yeah, I know. But before prison I was healthy, and I didn't have this extra weight."

"So, what?" You trailed your fingers delicately down his neck, shoulders, and chest, coming to rest at his area of insecurity, his lower stomach, "Weight doesn't always equal health. And I, for one, happen to love your little dad bod."

You gave his stomach a little squish and his muscles jumped beneath your touch.

"Dad bod?" He asked with a confused smile.

"Yeah, it's like when you're still slim but you're not super muscly or toned, you have a little squish," you beamed up at him.

He cocked his head, still confused, "That doesn't sound like a compliment."

You groaned frustratedly, placing your forehead dramatically against his chest, "I mean it in a good way! Tons of girls are be attracted to a dad bod, including me. You're still in shape, just a little softer. It makes you look older."

You looked up at him to see he was smiling again.

"But you know you could look like a blob fish and I would still be head over heels for you, right?" You grinned, giving his hips a loving squeeze.

"Just wait till I'm really old and wrinkly," he scrunched his nose at you, "You'll be eating those words."

"Never," you giggled, reaching up on your toes to boop his nose with your own, "Now let's get back out there before the local cops get ideas about what we're doing in their bathroom."

You gave him a quick and sweet peck on the lips before turning around to pick up his discarded vest. He unlocked the door and waited for you with a soft smile.

He stopped you right before you walked out, pulling you in for one more brief kiss, murmuring, "thank you."

You just hummed in response, smiling against his lips. You then gave his butt a quick tap, making him jump slightly in surprise before laughing lightly.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to mention," you smirked wickedly, "your 'dad bod' makes your butt look great. Own it."

And that's how you ended up hauling your red as a tomato, thirty-four year old boyfriend into the conference room by the hand, with his FBI vest in the other.