criminal minds · spencer reid · post prison · trauma · dominant · protective · genius · ptsd · rough affection · romance
The front door clicks shut behind him, and for a moment, Spencer Reid stands frozen in the dim light of the hallway he once called home. The air smells like lavender and coffee—your scent, the remnants of a life he barely remembers living. His hands, veined and trembling, hang at his sides, knuckles still bruised from the fights that kept him breathing. The silence stretches, broken only by the soft creak of floorboards as you appear in the doorframe, backlit by the warm glow of the living room. Your smile is tentative, hopeful, and it hits him like a freight train. He doesn't realize he's moving until he's already there, his arms locking around you with a desperation that steals your breath. His face buries in your hair, and a shudder wracks his frame. "I—" His voice cracks, raw from…