#spencer reid x daughter reader

[princessxt]

hiii, i loved your hotch fic so much, could you maybe write a spencer reid x daughter one where he and the team interview y/n as a potential unsub and then reid finds out she's his daughter that he didn't know about, or any plot you want to write :) i hope you have an amazing day <3

You can make a request in the comments or by asking me a question!

You can see the list of who I write about here

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She Looks Like You

Pairing(s):Spencer Reid x Daugther Reader

Gender:Fluffy

Warning: none?

——————♥︎♥︎——————

Spencer never imagined himself in a family, with a wife, children, a dog and a house with a white picket fence. Contact with girls his age was embarrassing, as he generally couldn't stop talking about subjects that bored the girls. He had only two relationships in his life, and in both of them, the ending was devastating for Spencer. The first was in his last year at college. He met a lovely girl, dated her for a few months, but she disappeared from college. without telling Spencer. For a while he thought the worst could have happened to her, but when he contacted her family, they just told him she was fine and for the boy to leave her alone. And in his second relationship , well, we all know what happened to Mavie.those were the losses of Spencer's life.

He could get over it, after all, he didn't think he would have a family anyway.

He knew that his work took a lot of time, and that could strain a marriage, in addition to how dangerous it would be, considering what happened to Hotch's wife. He may have been shaken by his last relationship, but he didn't let it destroy him. , and now you're here, trying harder than ever to continue saving lives.

The case the team was on was not a case of a serial killer. A couple had been murdered, and the only evidence the local police had was a strand of hair, from the killer, which according to the tests was a woman.

It didn't take long for the team to put together a profile, which led to a young girl.

They didn't have the motivation, but they had in mind that during an interrogation she could say something that would be useful for the case. When the young woman was already in the interrogation room, the agents entered.

"Are you Y/N Y/L/N?" Hotch asks, sitting in front of the young woman, making the young woman look at him with contempt. Spencer was behind Hotch, just watching her, finding her face familiar.

"Unfortunately"She throws her body back and leans against the chair, bored.

"Do you know why you're here?" The older man looks at the files in front of her, waiting for the right moment to show them to the girl.

"It looks like I'm suspected of something." She looks at Hotch, staring at him.

"Do you recognize this couple?" He shows the photos of the crime scene, with the dead couple in one of the photos. Her reaction was not what the agents expected. In the profile, they said that when the killer saw the photos of the crime scene , she wouldn't have a negative reaction, and would just stare at the photos, without a sign of remorse, but Y/n, the moment she saw the photos, turned her face away, feeling her stomach turn and her lunch return to her throat. Place your hand over the photos and close the file.

"Look, am I going to get arrested?" She looks at Hotch, angry that he showed her those horrible photos.

"You can leave at any time. But first, we need a DNA sample." Hotch takes the folders off the table and places them on her lap.

"DNA? Don't you need a warrant for that?" She gets up and grabs the coat that was on the chair.

"Not if you let us collect it willingly and make everything easier." Hotch follows her with his eyes, watching her go to the door.

"Bad luck for you, I'm not the type to make things easy." He opens the door and leaves, without looking back, leaving Hotch and Reid alone in the room.

"Do you think she has something to do with murder?" Spencer finally speaks.

"Her reaction wasn't what we imagined. We need a mandate, we'll only know for sure when the results come out." Hotch gets up from his chair and leaves the room, going to provide the mandate.

A few hours later they were already at the door of Y/n's house, with the warrant in hand, ready to collect the DNA.

They knock on the door and the girl answers, looking disappointed by the agents at her door.

"Let me guess, they came to get my DNA?" The agents agree and she gives them space to enter.

"Mom, those agents are here!" She shouts towards the second floor of the house.

The agents deliver the warrant to the girl. A few minutes later, a woman, approaching 35 years old, appears. Spencer could recognize her from miles away. It was Melissa, her first love. The one who disappeared without telling him anything.

"Do you really think my daughter killed that couple? This has to be a joke." She sits next to her daughter and takes the warrant from her hand, reading it in a few seconds.

"I'm Agent Aaron Hotchner, and this is Dr. Spencer Reid." Hotch follows the manual, and introduces himself to the girl. When she hears Reid's name, her body tenses, and being a profiler, Spencer notices it. .

"A saliva sample and a strand of hair. Get it over with." The girl gets up and comes face to face with Hotch, who takes all the materials needed to do the collection. He takes the saliva sample and the hair, leaving the house then.

They take the sample to the laboratory. The next day, the result went directly to Garcia.

"Guys, I have some bad news, the DNA is not compatible. I'm sorry" Garcia says on the other end of the phone, the team sighs in disappointment, knowing that whoever killed the couple was still out there.

"Wait, here in the files it says that she is compatible with an agent." Garcia says and everyone looks at each other.

"What do you mean compatible with an agent? Is there any document saying she's adopted?" JJ says and gets closer to the phone.

"It doesn't say anything, I'll try to get into the file, just a minute." She stays silent and everyone in the room can hear the keyboard making noise. A minute later, Garcia sees the last thing she could imagine on her screen. one "Oh no" and the whole team is confused.

"Garcia, what did you think?"Emily asks, crossing her arms.

"I'll send it to you" is the only thing she responds. After that, the agents received a file over the phone, and what was written left everyone in shock.

"Spencer, is she... is she your... daughter?" Derek asks, staring blankly at the document. Spencer didn't know what to say or how to react. This had crossed his mind when he found out that Y/n's mother was Melissa, but he believed that if she was pregnant she would have told him.

"Reid, is that possible?" Hotch looks at him, who was motionless.

"I dated her mother during college, maybe it is." He didn't know if he wanted that to be true or a lie. He started thinking about everything, and remembered the date of birth he saw in Y/n's file. a few months after Melissa disappeared. He no longer had any doubts.

"Thanks Garcia, if you find out anything else let us know"JJ hangs up.

"So, she's no longer a suspect." Emily tries to change the atmosphere in the room, drawing everyone's attention to the case.

"Spencer, can I talk to you?" Hotch calls him and they leave the room.

"This is something very important, Spencer. Go figure it out, take the rest of the day off and talk to Melissa and Y/n, you have a lot to discuss" Spencer agrees. He grabs his things and goes to Melissa's house, knocking on the door.

She opens the door and says "I was waiting for you. I knew that after Y/n's exams came out you would come here. You can come in." She gives Spencer space to enter.

"You knew, and you didn't tell me anything."Spencer stops in front of her, in disbelief at everything that was happening.

"Would you like something to drink? Water, juice, beer." She goes to the kitchen followed by Spencer.

"You can sit"She points to some benches on the kitchen counter. She goes to the fridge and takes out 2 beers.

"I don't drink." Spencer says dryly.

"Then some water"She takes a bottle of water.

"Where is Y/n?" he takes a sip of water, calming down.

"He's at a friend's house, he won't be back until night, we have all the time in the world to catch up." She mocks the last part.

"Does she know? That I'm her father?" He says.

"She don't even suspect it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He looks at her, remembering the past, the time when they were together.

"You were about to graduate and join the FBI, I knew that when that happened, she and I would be in the crosshairs of anyone who wanted revenge on you. I did it to protect my daughter."

"I would quit the FBI without thinking twice. I would graduate and look for a good job so I could take care of her. You should have told me, given me the chance to see my daughter grow up" At that moment, Spencer's eyes were about to look fills with tears, thinking about all the memories he missed in his daughter's life.

The silence in the kitchen was embarrassing. Neither of them knew what to say.

"I want to be part of her life from now on." Spencer breaks the silence.

"I don't know if she'll want to. Last night she spent the night talking about how idiots you and your colleague were." She laughs.

"I want to at least try, help me get her to support me." He looks at her, who avoids looking into her eyes.

"I can talk to her tonight, explain everything, and if she wants to see you, I'll call you." She says and finally looks the doctor in the eye.

"What is she like? Is she smart, kind?" He asks wanting to know more about her.

"She looks like you. She's smart, kind to people she likes, but she has my personality." She smiles remembering her daughter.

The rest of the afternoon was peaceful, they talked a little more about her the girl. When Spencer returns to the hotel, he waits for a response from Melissa, to find out whether or not Y/n wants to have contact with him. It doesn't take long until he receives a message from Melissa.

*Tomorrow, at 4 pm at the cafe in the center, she will meet you there*

He smiles reading the message, but feels nervous about having contact with the girl, now that he knows she is his daughter.

The other day, Spencer couldn't stop thinking about her date with Y/n, he thought about bringing something to please her, but he didn't know what she liked.

When it was time, Spencer went to the cafe, sitting at a table and waiting for Y/n. She arrived some time later, going directly to the table. Both, not knowing how to greet each other, just exchanged a "Hi".

"So, did your mother explain everything?" Spencer tries to calm the atmosphere. The girl only responds with a "Yes."

Spencer and Y/n knew that creating a father-daughter relationship would be a challenge, but they both liked being challenged.

——————♥︎♥︎——————

Hii, if you have a better idea for a title, you can tell me in the comments!

[the-guilty-writer]

hiiii, i saw that your blurb requests were open so i was wondering if maybe you could write a spencer x daughter!reader (or just gn child) one where he helps her when she's depressed, if you're comfortable writing that. i 100% understand if you don't write this for any reason, of course. i hope you have a good day!! i love your fics so much <3

This one was cute to write

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

Spencer knocked softly on your door, not wanting to wake you if you were asleep, but knowing that some time in the sun would do you better than laying in the dark with blue light from your phone.

"Sweetie, are you awake?"

A muffled "Hmm" came from the other side of the door.

He pushed gently into your room, careful and gentle like he always did.

"Hi dad," you greeted him with as much enthusiasm as you could muster. "How was work?"

"It was okay." Spencer walked to sit on the edge of your bed, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I missed you, though."

He looked around your dark room. You weren't nearly as tidy as he was, but he could always tell when your mood began to fall by the state of your room. Papers piled on your desk and clothes littered the floor. Your backpack was thrown haphazardly onto the floor, the chair too occupied by clean laundry you couldn't bring yourself to put away.

"I missed you too." You trailed his line of sight, landing on the backpack you hadn't touched since getting home from school. "Can you help me with my homework?"

Spencer knew well that you struggled to get your work done when you were depressed. He never faulted you for it, knowing that it was compassion, not discipline, that would help you get through the darker periods.

"Of course." He smiled at you. "But only if you help me with something first."

You raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Let's go for a walk," your dad said. "I need some sunshine."

You nodded in agreement. Spencer left your room to allow you to get ready. Truthfully, the walk was to help you get out of the apartment and lift your spirits. You needed the sunshine, but your dad found all the sunshine he needed in you.

[alyswritings]

Softball Game

Request: Hii! If I could request something? I was wondering if u could do spencer reid x child reader (like 3 or 4) in the episode were spencer plays baseball (season 8, episode 6)?? Also I love Ur work, it's like I can't stop reading it Ur really talented 😊

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

Summary: Y/N at the softball game (season 8, episode 6)

Warnings: none

a/n: thank you for the request! hope you all enjoy!

(gif not mine)

Spencer holds Y/N's hand as they walk up to the fence of the baseball field where the teams are warming up.

"Oh, get out of here." Derek says when he notices them. Spencer waves. "Hey, pretty boy." He runs over.

"Uncle Derek!" Y/N grins.

"Hey, baby genius." Derek waves at her.

"Hey." Spencer says.

"You made it." Derek says. "I like that. You bring your glove."

"Glove? I don't own shorts." Spencer says.

"Okay, don't even worry about it, kid. I got an extra one." Derek says. "Dice's wife?" Spencer nods. "Had her baby last night. So today is your day to play second base."

"Yay! Daddy play!" Y/N grins, shaking Spencer's hand around.

"Wait, what?" Spencer immediately panics.

"Uh-huh." Derek nods.

"I can't play second base."

"Oh, yes, you can, and yeah, you're gonna. No such thing as "can't," kid." Derek says.

"Go team!" They all turn at the cheering to see the rest of the team walking up.

"Oh-- what are you guys doing here?" Spencer asks.

"Oh, we were not gonna miss this for the world." JJ states.

"Great day for it." Hotch comments.

"Awesome." Spencer mutters.

"So the secret service, huh?" Blake asks.

"Yeah, yeah. We haven't beat these chumps in five years." Derek says.

"They've got nothing to do but practice." Rossi remarks.

"And party." Penelope adds, putting a baseball cap on Spencer's head, getting cheers and exclamations from the others.

- - -

Y/N is sitting between Penelope and Henry as Derek goes up to the plate. The pitcher throws the ball and Derek hits it, everybody cheering.

Spencer goes up to the plate as the team yells out encouragements.

"Go, daddy!" He hears Y/N shout. His heart warms at her encouragement, but his nerves spike knowing she'll have to watch her dad look like a loser.

The pitcher throws the ball, but Spencer misses it.

"Strike one!"

"Strike two!"

"Strike three!"

The team yell out encouragements.

"Daddy kind of stinks." Y/N says to Penelope.

"But we love and support him anyway. He'll get it." Penelope assures.

- - -

Derek hits the ball and runs off. Spencer goes up to the plate.

"Hey, this guy can't hit! Bring it in!" One of the guys from the secret service team yell out.

"Meanie!" Y/N screams, Penelope immediately covering her mouth.

"Time out, time out!" Derek calls. "Time out!" He runs over to Spencer. Derek talks to Spencer for a couple of minutes before running back to his previous position and Spencer gets ready.

"Go, daddy!" Y/N shouts as the team yell out other encouragements.

The pitcher throws the ball, Spencer missing.

"Strike one!"

"Strike two!"

"This guy's got nothing!" A secret service guy yells.

Y/N's mouth opens to call him a meanie, but Penelope covers her mouth.

"Time and place, sweetheart." Penelope says.

The pitcher throws the ball and Spencer hits it.

The team cheer and yell at him to run. Spencer takes off, running around the field.

"Go, daddy!" Y/N yells.

Spencer collides onto home base, Derek cheering him on. He helps Spencer up, hugging him. The team cheer as the softball team lifts Spencer up.

When they get off the field, Spencer and Derek go over to the team who congratulate them.

"Daddy!" Y/N cheers, grinning and holding her arms up.

"Hey!" Spencer picks her up.

"You did geat." Y/N states.

"Thank you." Spencer says, letting out a soft laugh and he kisses her on the cheek.

Taglist: @glxwingrxse @venomsvl @wildieflower @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @itsmaneskinbitch @mrvlxgrl @star-wars-lover @champomiel @ironmaiden1313 @finleyyylovesyou

[cowboy1ikereid]

sweet creature ~ s.r.

‘Wherever I go, you bring me home’

Summary: Spencer calls you when he’s missing home.

Warnings: pregnant!reader x husband!spencer, reader is in her second pregnancy and they already have a 3 y/o daughter, spencer is, again, a huge softie, calls you sweetheart, he's called away on an urgent case and misses you, reader is almost in third trimester, they fall asleep on the phone, cuties, inspired by sweet creature by harry styles, fluff and comfort

Category: Fluff x Comfort

Word count: 1.1k

Author's note: Spencer Reid deserved to get married and have children but he has to be a girl dad and I don't make the rules. I just know he would be the most sweet, caring and loving husband/dad in the world. Anyways I kind of had to do something to this song because I saw it live (Wembley N4 I’ll miss you forever). Enjoy!!

You were exhausted, both emotionally and physically. Being 7 and a half months pregnant and taking care of your 3 year old daughter alone had never been part of the plan. In fact, Spencer was supposed to be working either in office or from home during the later stages of your pregnancy, but a serious case meant that he was needed urgently by the BAU. With only 8 hours notice he was in Florida, and suddenly he was approximately 920.4 miles away from you.

It was around 9pm, and you’d been eagerly awaiting a phone call from your husband. You’d blame your anxiety on the hormones, but you knew it wasn’t just that. You’d always been like this whenever he was away, and you never quite managed to properly adjust to how much travelling his job required. Lizzie, your daughter, was laid next to you in the bed you and Spencer shared, asleep on his side of the bed. She was the same as you whenever her dad was away, even if she didn’t quite understand his job. She was a daddy’s girl, and if sleeping on Spencer’s side of the bed helped her to feel that little bit closer to him when he was away, you would let her. Her curly light brown hair was sprawled across the pillow which she drooled on, unconscious.

Your phone was on silent so the ringer didn’t wake her up, but as soon as you felt the persistent buzzing and Spencer’s name appeared on the screen, you stood, stretching slightly before leaving the room and quietly closing the door behind you, simultaneously swiping the button to answer the call.

“Hi.” You whispered softly, cautious not to wake up your sleeping three-year-old who was in the next room.

“Hi sweetheart. How are you?” Spencer’s sweet voice spoke over the phone.

“Hanging on. I managed to settle Lizzie after she cried because you couldn’t tuck her in tonight.. Little one has been quiet for now, but I just know that she’ll start getting active as soon as I attempt to sleep.” You spoke with a soft smile on your face at the thought of the little life growing inside of you whilst you tiptoed down the stairs and into the living room, sitting down on the sofa with a hand on your round bump, rubbing it gently.

You heard Spencer sigh over the phone. “I miss you. I saw the three of you this morning and it feels like I haven’t seen you in months.” He chuckled. Spencer was alone in his hotel room, and it felt strangely quiet. Unfamiliar. If Spencer was home, you’d be asleep in his arms by now, your soft snores echoing in the darkness of your bedroom. Pregnancy was tiring, after all. But you struggled to sleep without each other, and you knew that. Your house may as well have been cold and empty to you without him there. Your house wasn’t your home. Spencer was, and you knew that he felt the same way about you. That was why he’d called.

“Any new symptoms? At around the seven month mark, you should expect to experience some shortness of breath, discomfort which may lead to difficulty moving, frequent urination, lightheadedness caused by the baby putting pressure on your blood vessels which can slow blood flow, fatigue-” He began to reel off pregnancy symptoms until he was cut off by your sleepy laugh.

“Spence, you’ve been gone for less than a day. You don’t have to worry about me. I feel the same as I did earlier.” You giggled.

“And that is?” He questioned. You could picture him furrowing his eyebrows, and the thought of it made your heart warm.

“Achey, tired, like a whale, hungry..” You listed, and you already knew he was going to give you advice on how to deal with your symptoms. He’d done more than enough research on pregnancy when JJ was first pregnant with Henry, and since then he’d unexpectedly found himself helping a woman give birth on a case.

“You need to rest. It’s late and that’s one of the only things that could help with your symptoms right now apart from physical activity, but I doubt you’d want to do any exercise at the moment,” He instructed, and you knew that he was being serious, even with his light tone. You’d think that you’d know more about pregnancy than Spencer, with you being mid-way through your second pregnancy, but he knew everything. Whilst anybody else might have been surprised by that, you weren’t. He’d done extensive research on the topic, after all, and he continued to. “And I can also guarantee you that you don’t look like a whale.” He added, and you could hear his smile in his voice.

“That’s what you think. I can hardly move, and when I do I waddle. I waddle, Spencer!” You pouted, and you could hear him laugh.

“Well I’m sure you look beautiful whilst you waddle.” He teased.

After a few quiet conversations between the two of you, 9pm turned to 11:30pm, and you could feel your mind wanting to drift off as your conversations slowly turned into Spencer spouting off random facts whilst you listened, his voice soothing you as though he was there with you. You decided to go back upstairs and tuck yourself into bed whilst he talked, placing your phone on the nightstand. He wasn’t really next to you, but it was close enough. You knew Lizzie wouldn’t wake up between Spencer’s soft words, the low volume your phone was on and her tendency to be a heavy sleeper. However, Spencer soon realised you were responding to him less and less.

“Sweetheart?” He said quietly, and you hummed in response, already drifting off. “Do you want me to hang up?” He asked, and your eyes snapped open. “No. Uh, I mean, I’d like it if you could just… stay on the line.” You said quietly, and he understood what you meant.

“Of course,” He responded, “Good night. I love you.” He said, and you said it back.

Soon enough, you fell asleep, and if he closed his eyes, he could picture you there next to him, your soft snores echoing around his hotel room. That was all he needed to relax, and Spencer soon found himself drifting off to sleep, feeling like he was at home. Feeling like he was with his home.

You brought him home.

[reidswhre]

could you write something about this? rossi having a teenage daughter who is just as smart as spencer, and them meeting each other and discovering the similarity, is something different but i think it could be fun to read! 🫶🏻

spencer reid x fem!rossi!reader

warnings: nothing, pure fluff

a/n: this is so cute omg thx for sending it! btw i didn’t realize it said “teenage” until now i’m so sorry 😭���️ i hope that doesn’t bother you too much, she’s spencer’s age!

Rossi had invited everyone to dinner at his house. It was something “simple.” In quotes because, come on, for Rossi nothing was simple.

“Come in, if you break something, I’ll tell Hotch to cut half of your salary.” He gave a fake smile as he let them in.

“Aww, you’re so kind.” Emily returned the fake smile, which made everyone laugh.

“Take a seat, how about some wine?” Rossi offered, and everyone graciously accepted.

Except Spencer. “No, thanks— I don’t drink alcohol.”

“Of course you don’t, kid.” Rossi rolled his eyes. “What would you like? Orange juice? Fruit puree?” Rossi teased him.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Spencer smiled a little.

“Dad, do you know where the library is—” You came down the stairs quickly before noticing the team in the living room. “Oh— Hello.” You lowered your voice, a bit shy.

“Hey you, I forgot to mention it.”

“You definitely did.” You said, shrinking into your spot.

“Look, this is my work team.” He pointed to each person as they greeted you. “And this is my daughter.” He introduced you by name to the team.

“Nice to meet you.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m going to… head upstairs. Excuse me.”

“Are you kidding? Stay.” Your dad encouraged you.

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Don’t say that, sweetie. You’d never be a bother.” Garcia spoke up.

“And if it does bother them, they can leave, it’s my house.” Rossi joked, and everyone laughed a bit.

“It’s fine, really,” Hotch said.

“Okay, thank you.” You finished coming down the stairs, a bit nervous.

Now, you weren’t thaaaat shy (just a little), but come on, it was your dad’s entire work team. How could you not be?

“I didn’t know you lived with your daughter.” Morgan smiled, taking a sip of his wine.

“I don’t, she’s visiting.” Rossi gave you a look to encourage some small talk.

“I live in England, I’m in university.”

“Oh, where?” Spencer asked, intrigued.

“Oxford.” You smiled shyly.

Morgan whistled. “That’s fancy.”

“It’s not as grand as it sounds.” You shook your head.

“Oxford, along with Cambridge, is the elite of education in England. One of the two always appears in the top rankings of the country, as well as the list of the ten best universities in the world.” Spencer looked at you. “I think it is as grand as it sounds.”

You narrowed your eyes a bit at his response.

Spencer, the genius of the BAU, you knew a little about him.

Your dad used to talk about him and said you two would probably get along, but he said that about everyone, so you didn’t pay it much attention.

“Cambridge is better than Oxford.”

“Depends on the field.” He replied.

“No, it doesn’t. In general statistics, it’s better.”

“You can’t rely on general statistics.”

“Said the profiler.”

Everyone chuckled at your little exchange, which made you smile a bit.

From then on, everyone started their own conversations, and you noticed Spencer sitting there, staring at his glass of water.

“Anyway, I chose Oxford for a reason, so you’re not completely wrong.” You sat next to him.

“You got into Cambridge?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Mhm.” You nodded. “Want me to be honest?”

“Of course.” He looked at you intently.

“Maybe the fact that Oxford looks like Hogwarts influenced my decision a bit.”

Spencer laughed. “That’s fair.”

“And you? Where did you go? I’ve heard you have several PhDs.”

“I went to the MIT.” He smiled nervously.

“That sounds amazing.”

“Not as amazing as yours.” He looked at you.

“Sure, yours wasn’t run by Dumbledore.” You joked.

“You really like it, huh?”

“Are you kidding? I love it! It’s my favorite series.” You got excited talking about Harry Potter.

“I’m more of a Star Wars fan.” You grimaced at that. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?” He raised his eyebrows.

“I’ve never seen them,” you admitted.

Spencer’s eyes widened. “No way!”

“Seriously! They just don’t appeal to me, sorry.” You apologized through laughter.

“Well, what else do you like then?”

“Hmm.” You looked at the ceiling, thinking. “I like magic.”

“Really? I love magic.” Spencer smiled.

“Yeah? What can you do?” You playfully challenged him with a smile.

“Uhhh.” He looked around, searching for something to show you.

“Nothing?” You smiled.

“I guess not…” He shrugged. “Unless…” He made a small gesture for you to check behind your ear.

You gave him a confused look and reached behind your ear like he did. You pulled out a little piece of paper.

You gasped in surprise. “How did you do that?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Come on! That’s amazing!”

“Nope, sorry.”

“Aww.” You pouted.

“Thank you all so much.” You heard someone behind you saying goodbye.

“Oh—I think I have to go.” Spencer stood up from his seat.

“Yes, of course—” You stood up as well to say goodbye to the others.

A little later, after everyone had left, you were helping your dad clean the kitchen while he was tidying up the living room.

“What’s this?” He asked, showing you the little piece of paper you had pulled from behind your ear earlier.

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s just a magic trick. You can throw it away.” You laughed while washing the glasses.

“Are you sure?” He said, walking over to you. “It has a number.”

“What!?” You dropped the glasses in the sink and quickly dried your hands. “Let me see!” You rushed over to your dad and snatched the paper from him.

“That kid was trying to hit on you?” He rolled his eyes while looking at you.

“Oh my God, yes!” You smiled, excited.

Then you remembered your dad worked with him, and your smile dropped.

“I mean— maybe, probably not— it doesn’t matter.” You shrugged and casually slipped the paper into the back pocket of your pants.

“Sure, it doesn’t.” He narrowed his eyes and started heading up the stairs. “Remind him you live 7,588 kilometers away!” He shouted from afar.

You smiled a little and gave a small jump of excitement in the quiet of your living room.

[astrophileous]

Every Single Day

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: When his daughter demands him to tell the story of how the two of you met, Spencer can't help but oblige.

Warning(s): dad spencer🥰, established relationship (eventually), parent-child relationships, alcohol consumption, brief interaction with a douchebag, made-up astronomy facts, made-up places, idk if there's any cursing but I'll throw it in here to be safe, implications of sex and nsfw themes (minors be advised), pregnancy, mentions of illness, mentions and/or implications of character death, topics of loss and grief, angst and fluff because I love the best of both worlds👍 (pls lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 7700-ish

Author's Note: hi 👋 I'm back again with another dad!spencer fic bc apparently I'm a sucker for him. I got a lil carried away with this one lol but anyways, I'm also writing this for the meet cute challenge hosted by the amazing and talented @imagining-in-the-margins so pls go head to her profile and show some love cause she's a peach ❤️ don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG

Criminal Minds Masterlist

The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Against the wind, shades of crimson and orange swayed on the trees. Fallen leaves crunched underneath his feet to the cadence of his leisured steps.

Two deep breaths, in and out. Spencer Reid greeted autumn with the deep longing of an old friend.

Next to him walked a source of light bigger than the sun, jumping and bouncing excitedly on the sidewalk. Her tiny fingers emitted warmth inside of his hand. There was a skip to her step that reminded him of the innocence he had long lost. The innocence she now possessed.

Spencer loved this little girl beyond everything he had ever known.

"Puddle, Dee."

The tiny bundle of joy jumped to escape the small pool of water, grinning up at her father, who then began ruffling her hair until she evaded his onslaught with a shriek.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"You never told me how you met Mommy."

Spencer glanced down at the 6-year-old, dressed gorgeously in her favorite floral dress, complete with a sweater that had entailed a hearty discussion about humans' perception of cold. It was only after he bribed her with the promise of a chocolate cupcake from Wakey Bakey did Spencer finally convince her to wear the woolen piece of clothing.

His daughter stared at him with a radiant smile peeking out behind a curtain of hair. A smile which Spencer always argued had belonged to you, even though the rest of Diana Aurora Reid was the splitting image of her beloved father.

"Surely I've told you before, Dee."

"Nuh-uh."

"Of course I have."

"No, Daddy. You haven't."

"Pumpkin, you know I don't forget stuff ever," Spencer said, looking at the little girl who was swaying along to the rhythm of her footsteps. "I used to tell you that story all the time. Back when you were still a baby."

Just as predicted, Diana let out a dramatic gasp as if Spencer had uttered the most offensive thing known to mankind; like claiming the earth was actually flat, for example. Spencer couldn't contain his grin upon seeing her reaction.

"But Daddy, that was so long ago!"

"Do you not remember, Dee?"

Diana shook her head.

"Fine. But Mommy must've told you the story already, right?"

"She has, but--"

"But?"

"But I wanna hear it from you."

Little Diana knew that her father could never resist her puppy dog eyes, especially garnished with that adorable pout on top. Once upon a time, you declared it sickeningly cute and annoying whenever Spencer would pull the same trick on you. When Dee started doing the same to him, you had simply laughed and kissed his cheek, letting him get a sweet taste of his own medicine.

Spencer smiled at the young girl next to him, squeezing her nose and relishing in the gleeful squeal that echoed from her chest.

"What do you wanna hear, Pumpkin?"

Diana held her chin, seemingly deep in contemplation before deciding, "Everything, Dad! I wanna hear it from the start."

"The start, huh?" Spencer hummed thoughtfully, his mind already reeling back to the first moment he ever laid eyes on you.

The story began on yet another ordinary Friday night.

Luck was on the BAU's side when the team managed to wrap the case they had been working all week just before Friday afternoon. By the time the sun was setting, their jet was already high up in the sky, en route from the state of Delaware to Quantico, Virginia. Spencer was looking forward to going home at a reasonable hour for once--maybe catching up on the four reading materials he had promptly pushed aside after his team was called to Delaware to work on the latest case--but that plan dissipated when Derek Morgan suddenly appeared by his side.

"Drinks. Tonight. Everyone's coming, and I'm not taking no for an answer," Derek said before dragging a reluctant Spencer away with him, ignoring the protests that the younger man kept grumbling under his breath all the way to the team's favorite bar.

Spencer just hadn't known it yet, but later down the road, he would spend the rest of eternity thanking Derek Morgan for dragging him along that night.

The Friday night crowd at Shaw's was borderline brutal, but fortunately for the team, a booth in the corner became vacant the moment they stepped into the threshold.

Two hours later, Spencer's fellow teammates weren't even close to calling it a night. The last chorus of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston had just finished blasting from the speakers when Derek sauntered back to the booth, twirling a flushed Penelope Garcia in front of him. Spencer slipped out of the booth to allow them in--preferring to stay on the most outer seat instead of crammed between his tipsy friends' bodies--before sitting down once more.

"Hey, Genius," Penelope called, waving her empty beer glass in front of Spencer's face. "Be a darling and get me a refill, will you?"

"Garcia--" Spencer quickly snatched the glass from her hand before she could send it smashing against someone's head, "--are you sure you want a refill?"

Penelope scrunched her nose. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I think you're plenty drunk already."

"I'm not that drunk," Penelope denied, giggling when an unexpected hiccup interrupted her slurred words. "Derek, tell the beautiful Doctor I'm not that drunk."

"She's not that drunk, Reid." Derek grinned. "While you're at it..."

Spencer could only sigh when Derek slid his own empty glass across the table.

It was past 10 o'clock at night, and the crowd of people in the establishment seemed to have doubled in the couple of hours that the team had been there. Spencer had to squeeze himself through the ocean of patrons flooding the bar, barely able to move his limbs without other people's arms or elbows bumping against his ribcage.

Spencer was waiting for the bartender to complete his order when he happened to glance towards his right, catching sight of the concealed panic that triggered every profiler bone in his body.

Any other person would have taken one look at your face and presumed that everything was alright, but Spencer knew better. He recognized the frantic movement of your eyes, the tight press of your lips, and the impatient knocking of your fingertips on the counter. He only caught the tail end of your voice before discreetly listening to what the man you were talking to had to say.

"--so, unfortunately, I can't."

"I told you, Baby. My Veyron runs at over 260 miles per hour. We can go to Red Clover Hill and get you back home safely by twelve. It's simple math," the guy slurred smugly.

"Actually, that's not true."

The drunken man turned around at Spencer's interruption.

"Excuse me?"

"The Red Clover Hill State Park is approximately 229 miles away from here. Though theoretically, you could drive your Veyron at its maximum velocity, which is around 268 miles per hour, it's very unlikely you'll be able to maintain that speed for the entirety of the ride, considering the terrain you would have to go through between here and there. The fastest you can probably get to the park is in 60 minutes, give or take, and that's being generous. You would have to drive back to D.C. as soon as you arrive at the park if you wish to be back by twelve. It's just realistically impossible."

The man in front of him couldn't be less impressed by Spencer's lengthy rant.

"And who the hell are you?" the drunken guy said, pinning Spencer with a stare that was clearly supposed to be intimidating.

Spencer didn't even flinch. "No one. Just a guy who happens to know a lot about... simple math."

Your loud cough tore Spencer's attention away from the drunk man and towards you, who looked ready to burst from the laughter you were holding underneath. Even under the terrible lighting of the bar, Spencer could still pinpoint the hint of unspoken amusement glimmering inside your eyes.

"Sorry, Bill," you said to the man. "I really do need to be back home by twelve tonight. Maybe some other time?"

Bill didn't need to be told twice. He received the message loud and clear.

Spencer watched the other man scurry away, tail between his legs, before your charming smile enraptured him once more.

"Thank you for that. I was beginning to think he might never leave."

"Happy to help." Spencer smiled thinly, scratching the back of his neck even though the spot wasn't itchy. "What did, uh, why did he want to take you to Red Clover Hill, of all places?"

"Oh. That was... partially my fault." You grinned innocently. "I didn't know he was gonna be an insufferable drunk when he came over, and I was in the middle of watching this."

You pulled out a silver tablet from your lap. Spencer took a peek at the screen, seeing what looked like a live feed of the night sky--over North Carolina, judging by the visible constellations on the vast scene--stamped with the day's date at the bottom of the footage.

"You're watching the Roux-Nell?" Spencer deduced after gathering the facts: the live feed of North Carolina sky, the mention of Red Clover Hill State Park that harbored one of the highest grounds in North Carolina, including a collection of some of the most sophisticated telescopes in the country; you must have been planning to view that night's sighting of the Roux-Nell comet, its first time since the last one in 1927, and only its third one in history.

"Yes! How did you... don't tell me. You're an avid astronomy fan, too?"

Spencer's responding smile only made you beam even brighter.

"Anyway, that guy earlier, Bill, he approached me and asked what I was watching. So, I started talking about the Roux-Nell and about how I wish I was at Red Clover Hill right now since everyone keeps saying it's one of the best spots to view tonight's sighting. I thought he was genuinely interested until he started talking about his Veyron this, his Veyron that. I didn't even realize until a whole five minutes later that he was talking about his car!"

When you finally finished explaining, your eyes locked with Spencer's hazel ones before you seemed to cower shyly.

"Sorry. I can get a little excited when I'm talking sometimes."

"No! Don't be, it was--" Spencer stopped himself before he could complete his sentence.

What was he about to say?

Insightful? Entertaining?

Endearing?

Eventually, Spencer opted to settle for something safe and simple. "I get that way too, sometimes. A lot of the times, actually. So you don't have to apologize."

The fire flickered back inside your gaze following Spencer's admission. It burned brilliantly beneath the kindness you radiated, forged by the sharp intelligence he could see shining out of your eyes.

"So--" Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to shift the conversation in order to distract his racing mind, "--why did you tell him you needed to be back home by twelve?"

"Oh, that? I told him I'm donating blood tomorrow morning, so I need to at least get seven hours of sleep for the night."

"That's a clever lie."

You tilted your head slightly at his statement. "What makes you think it's a lie?"

"Because you're here. Nobody drinks alcohol before they're supposed to donate blood."

Your eyes flashed with surprise. "Not bad, Mister. You're very perceptive."

Spencer shrugged, trying not to appear too flustered by your casual compliment. "It's what I do."

You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his reply.

"I'm a profiler."

"Profiler?"

"With the FBI."

"FBI, huh?" You hummed, something akin to intrigue swirling in your eyes. "So, you study criminals? Trying to decipher their way of thinking, why they do what they do. Dissect their past history for any related trauma, maybe even pinpoint a psychological stressor that could trigger a criminal behavior, that kind of stuff?"

Upon hearing your response, it was Spencer's turn to be intrigued. "Exactly that kind of stuff. How did you...?"

Grinning sheepishly, you pulled a professional badge out of your pocket, holding it up in front of Spencer so he could see the emblem covering its surface.

"Edgewater Psychology Center," Spencer read the words aloud, understanding dawning on him as he found your eyes once more. "You're a psychologist."

"Guilty as charged."

Spencer couldn't fight off his amused smile. "That explains it, then."

"You know," you began, leaning further against the bar counter to shorten the distance between you and Spencer, "I've never met a profiler in person before. Most of my colleagues, they have consulted on a federal case at least once in the past few years, but the bureau hasn't yet contacted me so far."

"Really?" Spencer took a step forward, closing the distance by a mere inch. "Sounds like a big loss for us. We're idiots."

You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a smile, your gaze flicking between Spencer's own lips and eyes. For the shortest of minutes, nothing else existed in Spencer's world but you; your smile, your scent, and your kind eyes. You were a magnet carved out of his wildest dreams, and Spencer, well, he might as well have been made out of the purest of irons.

But before Spencer could get lost deeper in your relentless gaze, a shout of his name slashed through the air from across the bar. Back at the booth, Derek was waving his hand frantically in the air, stopping only when Spencer signaled him to sit back down and that he was returning in a minute.

"I have to go." He smiled tentatively, apologetically.

"Oh?"

Spencer tried not to revel too much over the small dip of disappointment at the edge of your voice.

"My friends. They, uh--"

"Oh, no, it's alright. You don't have to explain," you told him gently. "See you around, Mr. Profiler. Hope you have a great night."

With that said, you went back to watching the live feed on your tablet while Spencer, begrudgingly, trudged across the room with two refilled beer glasses in his hands, back to where his friends--minus Rossi and Hotch who were conversing among themselves at one of the standing tables--were waiting.

"Finally," Derek groaned once Spencer slammed the glasses down on the table.

"Who was that?" Emily asked as he slipped into the booth.

"Huh?" Spencer followed Emily's gaze, finding you perched up at the very end of it. "No one."

"No one?" Emily's eyebrows rose. "She didn't seem like no one from where I was sitting."

Spencer took an insanely large sip of his leftover beer.

"Holy shit, you like her, " Derek muttered. "He likes her. Pretty boy's got a crush."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah? Tell that to those red cheeks of yours." JJ chuckled.

Instinctively, Spencer touched his own cheeks as if he could physically feel the change of colors on his skin.

"I'm just tipsy," he tried to reason.

A collective scoff reverberated through the entire booth.

"What's her name, Spence?" JJ asked.

When a full minute ticked by without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment from Spencer, Penelope reached out and slapped the man right across his shoulder.

"Ow!"

"You didn't ask for her name?!" Penelope exclaimed.

"It didn't come up!"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, Reid," Emily noted before sipping her margarita.

"Nope. I'm not having this. Not tonight. Look at me, Sunshine." Penelope grabbed Spencer's face in her hands, forcing him to stare directly into her glasses-rimmed eyes. "I'm not letting you spend the rest of the night like this. You will get your cute little tushy out there and talk to that girl. You will get her name and also her number, maybe even ask the nice pretty lady out while you're at it. Now, have I made myself clear?"

Spencer barely managed to swallow his nerves before he offered Penelope two tiny nods.

"Good. I don't wanna see your face back here if you're not at least pocketing her phone number. Now shoo."

Penelope sent Spencer flying across the bar with a dramatic stumble. By the time he reached your side, Spencer was nothing less than a stuttering mess and a thundering heart.

"Hi," Spencer breathed out once he found your welcoming eyes.

"Um, hi?"

"I'm Spencer."

"Okay... Spencer?"

"Reid. Spencer Reid." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's just... I realized while I was sitting over there--well, my friends actually made me realize--that I, uh, never got your name. Which, you know, of course I never got it because I didn't ask. So, I was coming here, wondering if maybe you'd like to give it... to me?"

You blinked once. Twice.

By the third blink, Spencer wished the earth would open up and devour him whole.

"You want my name?"

Spencer nodded.

"What are you planning to do with it?"

"Call you?" At your bemused expression, Spencer quickly elaborated, "Not call like call. I meant referring. Yep. That's it. Although, maybe if you want to, I would love to call you as well. Sometime. And perhaps, you know, ask you out... on a date?"

Spencer swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat. In front of him, you were pretty, even with the conspicuous scrutiny in your eyes as they assessed Spencer as if he was some sort of an enigma. Embarrassment burned hotter through his veins with every second that passed by. He was merely two exhales of breath away from dashing out of the door when you finally spoke up.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Smiling, you produced an old receipt seemingly out of thin air and asked the bartender to lend you a pen, scribbling something down as soon as you had it between your fingers. When the tiny piece of paper emigrated to Spencer's hand, the Cheshire cat in him jumped out once he noticed the ten digit numbers written neatly underneath a name he could only assume as yours.

"Will that be enough, Spencer Reid?"

"For now," Spencer replied before grabbing his wallet and shoving the paper containing your name inside. "I'll call you."

"You better."

After Spencer's departure, you returned your attention back to the tablet in front of you. Barely five minutes later, though, your serene watching session was once again interrupted. Only this time, it was by the ringing of your phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Spencer."*

Surprised, you swiveled your head left and right, stopping once you spotted Spencer standing on the other side of the room. His eyes were trained towards you, and behind him, a booth of four people seemed to have directed their attention at you as well.

"Spencer?"

"I know this is very untoward," he began, "but would you like to go out with me?"

"Boy, you certainly don't waste any time at all, do you?"

"I believe it's called being efficient," he countered, making you laugh. "So, what do you say?"

"Sure," you answered, enjoying the way Spencer beam at you from across the room. "I would love to, Spencer."

A breeze blew gently against Spencer's face, caressing the tendrils of curly hair that had fallen over his forehead. Diana's little fingers started to grip his tighter as the wind strengthened.

"Did you take Mommy on that date, Daddy?"

"Of course," Spencer replied, reminiscing the exact day when he had picked you up in your apartment, sweat glistening on his palm as he clutched the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. "We went to see a Mark Rothko exhibition at the National Gallery of Art, and before I took her home, we stopped by Wakey Bakey to buy some lemon tarts."

Diana gasped. "Wakey Bakey?!"

The little girl's reaction compelled a chuckle from Spencer's chest. "Yes, Pumpkin. Wakey Bakey."

"What happened after that, Daddy?"

"What do you think happened after that, Dee?"

"Um--" Diana pursed her lips, deeply lost in thought, "--did you become girlfriend and boyfriend?"

"Yes, we did."

"And you got married?!"

Spencer laughed at Diana's apparent excitement over the prospect of her parents getting married. "We did, yeah, eventually. After I proposed to her."

"Oh! Oh! The proposal!" Diana exclaimed, jumping up and down in the middle of the sidewalk without a care in the world. Spencer had to tug her back towards him before she could harm herself or the other pedestrians. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me about the proposal, Daddy!"

"You wanna hear the story about how I proposed to your mother?"

"Yes, please!"

Chuckling to himself, Spencer mumbled a quick fine before his gears had started turning towards a specific memory in his mind. Spencer was sure, even without his eidetic ability, there was no way he could have ever forgotten about the day in question.

The day you agreed to have him as your forever.

Spencer had fallen in love with you during the first date, right around the time of yet another one of his animated ramblings, where instead of shaming him to shut the hell up, you had simply stared at him in awe and said, "You're pretty when you talk."

The young agent was sure he couldn't get rid of the blush adorning his cheeks for at least an entire week.

By the time the fifth date rolled around, Spencer was absolutely certain that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It wasn't a surprise, then, that a few weeks before your first anniversary came up, Spencer had pocketed a diamond ring with a promise of forever on the tip of his tongue.

Combing the courage to take this historical leap was easy. Difficult was trying to conjure up the perfect proposal plan that he would deem worthy enough for someone like you. There were no rooms for mistakes. Spencer wanted everything to be perfect because he believed you deserved nothing less.

Which was why, in moments of desperation, Spencer ended up turning to his fellow teammates in the FBI for help.

"I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about this, Spence. Will only ever proposed to me after finding out about Henry, and we only got married after I thought he was gonna die on the field," JJ explained. "It was never the most ideal of situations, but I would never change a thing even if I could."

Unsatisfied with JJ's answer, Spencer proceeded to find the BAU's tech genius in her bat cave.

"Go big or go home, my friend," Penelope said following a 10-minute hysteria she erupted into upon learning about Spencer's intent to propose. "Splash out on the bottle. Don't hold back on the grandeur. Spend all of your savings if you have to."

"Garcia--"

"Fine, maybe not all of your savings. You should leave some for the wedding."

Spencer spent weeks mulling over Penelope's advice.

Working as an FBI agent didn't pay as well as most people thought it would, and Spencer's tendency to collect first edition books wasn't exactly an affordable hobby. It meant that as much as Spencer wanted a proposal filled with the greatest grandeur--just as Penelope had suggested--he didn't have a fat enough balance in his bank account to make his ideal proposal concept a reality.

And Spencer probably would have spent the limited fund in his savings down to its very last cent, had it not been for Derek catching him browsing through the internet for the cost of a hot air balloon ride.

"I just want to give her the perfect proposal," Spencer admitted after he finished revealing everything.

"Kid, it doesn't matter," Derek said. "Don't you see? She doesn't care about hot air balloons or any kind of grandeur. She only cares about you. There's no such thing as a perfect proposal. You're just using it as an excuse to put off asking her 'cause you're scared of what she's gonna say. But you don't need to. You two are so devastatingly in love, it's disgusting."

In the end, grandeur wasn't even present in the room when Spencer decided to pop the question.

On that particular night, Spencer arrived in his apartment just a few minutes before midnight. His aching muscles were calling for sleep as he toed his shoes off, but his footsteps soon ceased when he caught sight of his dimly lit living room.

You were fast asleep on the couch, face illuminated by the television light. Spencer's movements were careful as he knelt in front of you, studying the soft and hard edges of your features like historians would an ancient scripture. He couldn't help it when his fingers reached out on their own accord, brushing the softest of touches against the high point of your cheekbone. Inside its cage, Spencer's heart started to stir.

You were so beautiful.

Even after one year of being together, Spencer was often still taken back by how lovely you were. He adored every detail of your being, most fervently the scars that littered your skin in a constellation of stars. All of the places in your body where your scrutiny had wandered in a fleet of insecurity were the same places that Spencer wanted to worship for the rest of his life. In his eyes, you were eternally magnificent, and this thought clouded Spencer's mind as he went to shake your shoulder gently.

"Spencer?" Your groggy voice sounded meek in the comfort of Spencer's apartment, the same one he had been sharing with you since you moved in three months prior. Your lips tilted with the tiniest hint of a smile at the sight of him, and Spencer thought he would melt when your fingers instinctively reached for his face. "You're back."

"I'm back," he confirmed, leaving a trail of kisses on your palm. "Why aren't you in bed, my love?"

"I was waiting for you," you admitted. "I have something to say."

"Really? Me too."

"Hm?" Curiosity flared in the center of your eyes. "You first."

Smiling, Spencer leaned down to steal a quick kiss before saying, "Marry me."

Your breath hitched.

After a few seconds of silence, your nervous laughter filled his ears. "Right. That's a nice one, Spencer. Very funny."

"I'm not joking, sweetheart."

Spencer reached into the inside pocket of his satchel, pulling out the velvet box that had weighed down his bag by several grams for the past few weeks. Any remnant of sleep you still had in your eyes was instantly washed away the moment he opened the box to reveal a pretty ring sitting inside.

"I've had this for a while now," Spencer admitted. "I kept putting off asking you because I believed I wanted everything to be perfect, until Derek knocked some sense into my head and made me realize that I was just afraid of taking the leap. He's right, as always, but don't tell him I said that."

Spencer paused at your teary laugh, relishing in the melodic sound that made his heart nearly burst in two. "My love, I don't need the perfect proposal when you're the promise of a perfect life. Any life with you is the one I want to live for the rest of my time, and I want to start living that life from this point onward. What do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?"

Spencer never thought the word yes could sound so incredibly spectacular.

The celebration had started right away, commemorated by the shedding of clothes from each other's bodies, finalized by panting breaths and entangled limbs beneath rumpled sheets. You lay on the bed with your palm on Spencer's chest, his own hand tracing invisible patterns on the vast canvass of your skin.

Spencer watched as you stared at the ring circling your finger. "Do you like it? We can exchange it for a new one if--"

"Spencer Reid, don't you dare."

"Apologies, ma'am." He grinned, continuing the random patterns he was drawing on your skin before he spoke again, "By the way, you said you also have something to tell me."

You looked up at him with a blinding smile before scooting out of Spencer's arm and reaching for the nightstand. When Spencer saw what you had rummaged out of the bedside drawer, Spencer thought his heart had forgotten how to beat.

"Is that--"

"Surprise," you murmured giddily, handing over the object in your hand into Spencer's awaiting palm. "I found out yesterday, but I wanted to tell you in person."

Spencer sat up on the bed, staring with disbelief at the small item in his hand. He only realized he had started to cry when a drop of tears fell down, blurring the two tiny pink lines in his vision.

"This is... you're..."

"I'm pregnant, Spencer," you professed.

Just an hour earlier, Spencer thought the word yes was the best thing he could ever hear falling from your mouth. But as he held you in his arms, his lips catching yours once more in a heated kiss, Spencer realized that you had many more surprising admissions waiting to be said out loud.

And Spencer couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life listening to every single one of them.

"Daddy, are you saying I was already in Mommy's belly when you proposed to her?"

"Yes, you were, Pumpkin," Spencer said, smiling at the blatant curiosity in Little Dee's eyes. "You were a surprise we didn't see coming."

Diana's responding smile was a picture of satisfaction. The father-daughter pair continued to walk down the street until Dee's voice tore through the silence once again, "Daddy?"

"Hm?"

"I thought you said a man and a woman can only make babies after they're married."

Spencer's footsteps halted on the pavement.

The silence must have stretched for only a partial of a minute, but the expectant stare Dee was nailing against his face, along with the internal panic that had short-circuited Spencer's brain made it seem as if the world had skidded into a standstill. Frantic eyes darted everywhere for a chance at rectification, and Spencer couldn't stop the words from tumbling off his lips when he saw the worn-down sign of a florist up ahead.

"Dee, would you like to buy some flowers for Mommy?"

The little girl squealed an excited yes before skipping the few steps left towards the flower shop. Spencer let out a relieved breath at having narrowly escaped such a harrowing crisis.

Once Spencer stepped into the shop, a multitude of fragrances immediately enveloped his surroundings. Diana was lingering back and forth around the vibrant displays when Spencer approached, her tiny eyebrows frowning in the most adorable way as she assessed the rows of flowers in front of her.

"Have you decided yet, Pumpkin?"

"Can we get some of Mommy's favorites, Dad?" Diana requested, pointing her tiny finger at the display of flowers she knew to be your favorites. "And then we can add some of these daisies, too!"

Spencer couldn't fight the smile blossoming on his face as he asked the florist to assemble a bouquet made out of daisies--Dee's favorite type of flowers, the same one printed all over the dress she was wearing--along with your favorite flowers in the center. Diana stared in awe at the deft work administered by the florist, her mouth forming an "O" once the bouquet was wrapped and ready to go.

"Do you think Mommy will like them, Daddy?"

"I know she will, Pumpkin," Spencer answered earnestly, his memory replaying that first time he had come home bringing the same arrangement of flowers in his hand.

Spencer came home to the apartment in utter disarray, and yet, it still was the best view that he had ever witnessed in his entire life.

Ever since his office was transformed into a nursery, the books he previously kept in there had to be relocated to the living area. Most of them had gone by now--some donated, and some others sold at second-hand bookstores--but piles of them still littered in various corners of the room.

Apart from his mountainous collection of books, small trinkets also covered every available surface of the place. From the empty nursing bottles in the kitchen sink to the breast pump on the counter, and the tiny socks on the coffee table to the pacifier jammed between the sofa cushions; every single one of them contributed to the mess that his apartment had become. Yet as he paused to inspect every inch of the place, Spencer couldn't find any other emotion besides warmth flooding his chest.

Muffled footsteps padded towards the living room before you appeared from the hallway with a freshly bathed Diana in your arms. As soon as your eyes locked with his, the crease between your eyebrows automatically vanished.

"You're home."

"I'm home." Spencer grinned before welcoming you into his embrace.

He stole a quick kiss from your lips before bending down to smother a 7-month-old Diana who yelped in glee when Spencer began attacking her with kisses all over her face.

"She's been fussy since yesterday," you told him. "I think she missed you."

"Did you, baby? Did you miss Daddy?" Spencer cooed. "I can take her for a few while you rest. You look tired. Are you feeling okay?"

"Gee, Spence. What a way to a girl's heart."

"You know what I meant, sweetheart."

"It's fine, Spencer. I just got a headache, but it's all better now that you're here."

Spencer smiled as he kissed your free knuckles. "If it's any consolation, you're still the most heavenly creature that I've ever laid eyes upon."

A sneaky laughter rumbled past your chest. "Fine. I'll let you go just this once," you said before letting Spencer take a yawning Diana into his arms.

As Spencer carried Dee towards the couch, you noticed a bouquet of flowers lying next to the kitchen sink in the corner of your eye. You glanced at the young genius with a discreet smile before aptly transferring the flowers into a vase.

"These are pretty," you commented, joining your family in the living room. You put the vase in the middle of the coffee table amidst the books and various baby clutters before dropping yourself against Spencer's side.

"They're your favorites."

"I know. As usual." You smiled affectionately. "And daisies. You've never bought me daisies before."

Spencer's eyes gleamed. "I bought the daisies for Dee."

"Oh?"

"I think daisies are gonna be her favorite."

"You do, huh?"

"One hundred percent."

Spencer's eyes looked up from Diana to you then, whose own gaze had been kept intently on your husband and daughter. Darkness embellished the area underneath your eyes, and Spencer couldn't help but count the lines of fatigue that seemed to have multiplied on the contours of your face. Even then, Spencer thought you had never looked more stunning than you did at that moment; as his wife, the mother of his child, and the woman who owned the sole reign of his heart.

Confusion wandered into your eyes when you noticed Spencer's stubborn stare. A surprised squawk escaped your lips as Spencer unexpectedly captured them in a rather long kiss. When he pulled back, Spencer looked the very image of a man who was drunk on love.

"I love you. You know that, right?" Spencer confessed as he squeezed your hand twice in his palm.

"Spencer, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing. I just--" he paused for a chuckle, seemingly trying to find the right words to say before he could continue, "--I owe my life to you, sweetheart. For all of the times you have pulled me out of the darkness, to the light you've brought into my life. You and Dee are the reason I keep on breathing. Without the two of you, I'm nothing."

"Spencer," you breathed out. "Where did all of this come from?"

"I don't know." He shook his head. "I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to have you in my life and that you've brought Dee into ours. Everything worth fighting for about me is because of you."

The telltale signs of tears began to cast a shadow over your eyes. You pressed your hand to Spencer's cheek, feeling the rugged sensation of his newly shaved stubble stroking your skin. Spencer melted into the warmth of your touch.

"You're giving me far too much credit here, Spencer," you whispered. "Everything you are has always been your own doing rather than mine. All I ever did was cheer you on from the sideline. You would still have become the person that you are today even if I weren't in your life."

Spencer physically shuddered at your last statement. "Don't say that. I can't even begin to imagine a life without you in it."

"Well, even if such day does come, when I won't be a part of your life anymore, I know you're gonna be just fine. Because you'll have Dee with you--" you stroked Diana's head lovingly, "--and I know that the two of you will give each other enough love and strength that you won't even notice I'm not around anymore."

The frown on Spencer's face deepened.

"You're not allowed to leave me. Ever," Spencer decided childishly.

"Fine. I won't. But you have to remember--" you brought your palm towards Spencer's chest, feeling each rhythmic thrum of his heart which seemed to flutter ever so slightly underneath your fingers, "--I'll be right here if you need me. Always."

Spencer's own hand landed on top of your hand, entwining your fingers together without ever tearing his fierce gaze away from yours.

"Always."

The sun was shining down in flimsy rays when Spencer and Dee finally walked past the familiar gate. Glimmers of gold sneaked past the reddish leaves on branches before falling upon the ground.

Next to him, Diana was humming a melody that Spencer recognized from one of your specially curated playlists. Her little hands struggled to carry the gigantic bouquet that she couldn't wait to present to you. It didn't matter that the bouquet itself was nearly as tall as she was, Diana still refused to let Spencer assist her.

"I wanna give Mommy the flowers myself," she had told Spencer in a manner that reminded him too much of your own stubbornness.

After a couple more minutes of walking, Spencer's reverie was soon broken by the excited squeal coming from the little girl beside him.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Diana dashed into a sprint before words of warning could fall from Spencer's lips. He watched intensely as Diana's little feet moved upon the ocean of fallen leaves on the ground. Her tight grip around the bouquet never wavered even when she ran up the grassed hill, all the way towards the destination in her mind.

All the way towards the headstone with your name written on it.

When Spencer finally got there, Diana was kneeling next to your grave with panting breaths, but the smile stretched on her lips was the biggest one that Spencer had ever seen.

"Hi, Mommy. I'm back with Daddy," Diana announced. "Daddy, go say hi to Mommy."

"Hello, my love." Spencer smiled before taking a seat next to his daughter.

"We brought flowers, Mommy! They're your favorites. I added daisies to make them prettier." Diana beamed before putting the bouquet against your headstone. "You're not gonna believe what happened in class yesterday!"

As Diana animatedly began to recount the funny incident in her classroom--somehow involving a boy named Patrick and a cup of slushie--Spencer watched over her with a permanent smile on his lips. The little girl loved to talk--a trait she obviously acquired from both of her parents--and Spencer knew just how much you used to adore listening to Dee's rambling at any time of day.

It must have been at least ten minutes later when Diana's story eventually whirled to an end. Her attention instantly shifted to the family who was paying their own respect just two headstones over, a small squeak of puppy tumbled from Dee's lips before she dashed towards the boy with a golden retriever pup beside his legs.

Spencer shook his head affectionately at his daughter's antics.

"I know we were just here a couple of weeks ago, but Dee wanted to tell you about the slushie incident herself," he said. "And, well, I can never deny the chance to visit you, love."

A loud laughter boomed a few feet away. Spencer watched as Diana ran around jubilantly with the little boy and his dog. The boy's father waved at Spencer from the distance, which he replied with an acknowledging nod.

"She's getting so big, sweetheart. Sometimes, I just wanna stop time and keep her as my little girl forever. I wish you were around to see how much she's grown." Spencer smiled ruefully. "I can't believe that it's been more than a year since you were gone."

Spencer thought back to the last few moments you spent on this earth. How just a few months prior, the doctor had advised you to stop the treatment and take a rest at home instead.

The chemo isn't working, was what the doctor was really saying. You should be spending as much time as you can with your family.

So, that was exactly what you ended up doing.

Spencer had quit his job at the FBI shortly after you were diagnosed, opting to take a full-time job of teaching where the hours were more humane and reasonable. The day you were discharged from the hospital, Spencer made a vow to himself to make every day as memorable as he could, and he was keeping true to it. Those last few months were filled with countless road trips, an unforgettable weekend at Disneyland, and visits to various museums across the states. Spencer made sure that each day was charged with love and laughter, a perfect day culminated by an equally perfect night, with you falling asleep in the safety of his arms.

Until one morning, when Spencer woke up to your cold and lifeless body lying by his side.

"Do you remember what you told me once? About how Dee and I would never notice you were gone because we would have each other?" Spencer recalled. "You were wrong about that, sweetheart. Your absence is the first thing I notice every time I start my day. The moment I open my eyes, I notice that you aren't lying next to me on the bed like you're supposed to be. I notice the cold imprints on the sheets where your warmth used to linger. I notice you in every corner of our home, but most importantly, I notice you in Dee."

Spencer glanced at his little girl, playing and running around a pile of fallen leaves with her newfound friend and his pet dog. His heart floundered at the scene.

"Everyone keeps saying that she's an exact copy of me, but I see glimpses of you in her more and more every single day," Spencer admitted. "She's the only anchor I have left now, my love. Without her, I'm lost. I try constantly, with whatever strength still resides in me, to give her everything she would ever need. Shower her with every ounce of love I have left in my heart."

A lone tear cascaded down Spencer's cheek. He quickly erased it away with a wry chuckle.

"What I would do to have a minute with you again, my love. I hope you know I'd give my heart and soul to have those extra sixty seconds just to stare at your beautiful face. To hold you in my arms one last time. I try my best to fill the void that you left for Dee's sake. Some days are difficult, and I keep thinking about how much better it would be--how much better off she would be--if it were you here with her instead of me. I'd trade places with you if I could. I fear that all of me would never be enough for her, because she needs you. We both do."

Spencer inhaled a breath, forcing the imminent wave of tears from breaking the dam he had masterfully crafted since the moment you were gone. He promised a long time ago never to allow the grief to consume him.

He still had his daughter to think about.

"I'm beginning to think people are wrong when they say time makes everything better. The pain never lessens. It just becomes bearable with time. Dee makes it bearable," Spencer confessed. "I can only hope I'm doing the same for her."

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Spencer hurriedly wiped away any sign of tears from his face before he caught Diana in his arms. Her innocent laughter was a balm to the gaping wound in his chest, and Spencer allowed himself to bask in the bliss that his little girl brought to his life.

"What is it, Pumpkin?"

"Look what Brian's mom gave me!"

Spencer looked at her tiny hand to see a plastic daisy ring gracing one of her fingers. He looked up towards the family in the distance, mouthing a thank you to the mother who waved him off with a smile.

"It's very pretty, Dee."

"Like me?"

The young dad chuckled. "Yes, very much like you."

"Like Mommy, too?"

Spencer's smile softened. "Very much like Mommy, too. Yes."

The exhilarated smile Diana rewarded him could probably light up the entire state of Virginia at night.

Five minutes later, Spencer found himself bidding you a goodbye, with Diana promising to visit again very soon to give you an update over the slushie incident that supposedly got Patrick in a lot of trouble at school. The air was getting even chillier as the two walked the path they had taken after arriving at the cemetery. Spencer tugged Diana closer to his side once he saw the familiar gate lurking a few feet ahead, keeping her safe while simultaneously seeking her warmth.

"Daddy?" Dee's voice arose shyly once the pair had reached the main street.

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"I miss Mommy," she admitted quietly.

Spencer's fingers instinctively tightened for a split second around his daughter's hand. "I know you do, Pumpkin. You just need to remember, even if she's not physically with us anymore, that she's always watching over you and keeping you safe."

Diana nodded her head understandingly. "Do you miss her, too, Daddy?"

"Every day, Dee." Spencer smiled, glancing back towards the gate of the cemetery behind him. "Every single day."

[elizabethsnuts]

I’ve read a fic where Reid’s daughter dresses up as Penelope for Halloween… I know it isn’t Halloween yet but would you be willing to write one where Reid’s toddler daughter wants to dress as Hotch and she’s totally in character - frowning, scowling, and just capturing the Unit Chief to a tee bc she’s a little profiler? 👉🏼👈🏼🫶🏼 I’d love the team’s reactions, and I headcanon Hotch would be such a softie for Spencer’s daughter lol. Tysm!

Halloween Costume

Spencer Reid x Daughter!Reader

Summary: You dressed as your favourite profiler and unit chief for Halloween, you couldn’t wait to show him.

A/N: I could no way wait till Halloween to write this! It’s so cute!!

———

You loved Halloween, it was your favourite holiday. Not that you had experienced it many times as you were only a toddler but that didn’t stop you from going absolutely ecstatic when someone brought it up.

You were giggling with excitement as Spencer tied the little red tie to your suit, you had been insistent on who you wanted to be for Halloween to Spencer every time the holiday was mentioned.

Spencer smiled as he finished your tie and stood back a little to look at your full outfit, he let out an exaggerated gasp as you crossed your little arms. “Oh, you definitely look like Uncle Hotch now. He is going to love this costume.”

You squealed and clapped your hands, you were very excited to show the whole team your costume. You loved Hotch and you looked up to him a lot, you were looking forward to being him for Halloween.

Spencer chuckled and gave you a thumbs-up. He loved seeing you so happy about things with your childlike innocence. “Alright, Y/N, do your best Uncle Hotch face.”

You quickly got into character, putting a frown on your face and keeping your arms crossed, you were posing perfectly like the Unit Chief.

Spencer nodded in approval, smiling at your cute, little face. “You definitely have it down, little profiler. I can barely tell the difference! Are you ready to show everyone?”

You nodded eagerly and grinned. “Yes! We show everyone now, Daddy!”

Spencer gently grabbed your hand and walked you out into the bullpen where everyone was, you had your best little frown and scowl on, doing the best impression you could of Hotch.

Penelope gasped and squealed, quickly kneeling down to see your outfit and you. “Oh look at you, Y/N! Or should I say Hotch!? You look just like him, oh you did such a good job with your costume!”

You tried to suppress the shy smile threatening to creep up onto your face. You tried to lower your cute little toddler-like voice, it was so cute. “I in charge.”

JJ and Emily quickly walked over with big smiles on their faces. JJ crouched down and smiled. “You look like you’re definitely the boss, little miss! Look at this outfit!”

Emily nodded in agreement and tickled your sides. “You are going to blow away these other little Trick-or-Treaters!”

You couldn’t help but smile widely at all the compliments she was getting for her costume. You felt two strong arms pick you up and turn you around, you let out a squeal as you saw who it was. “Uncle Derek!”

“Excuse me, Hotch? Is that you? You seem to have shrunken! Hmm, or maybe I’ve just gotten much taller! Uncle Derek? I think that title is reserved for a special little genius.” Derek grinned, pretending he didn’t know it was you in costume.

“Uncle Derek, it me! It me Y/N! I just dressing up as Uncle Hotch.” You giggled and gave Derek a hug.

“Oh? Pretty girl? Little Miss Y/N Reid? My gosh, you really tricked me! I thought you were Hotch! Pretty girl you’ve really outdone yourself.” Derek gave you a big hug and put you back down on your two tiny feet.

You looked up at Spencer and smiled. “We go see Uncle Hotch now?

Spencer nodded and smiled, gently taking your hand and leading you up the ramp to Hotch’s office. “Of course, let’s go show him your costume!”

You walked quietly over to the door and gently pushed it open. You put your best frown on your face and walked in with your tiny hands on your hips. “Ahem, ‘cuse me! This my office!”

Hotch looked up with a small smile on his face, he stood up and walked over to you. “Oh my! It’s the Unit Chief. You look very professional, just like a profiler.”

You giggled and gave Hotch a big hug. “It me, Uncle Hotch! It’s Y/N!”

Hotch let out a quiet chuckle and hugged her back, he had a secret soft spot for you. “I think you need some proper identification.” He pulled out his ID badge and clipped it to your suit. “Now you’re officially the unit chief!”

You grinned and touched the ID. “Thank you, Uncle Hotch! We both be in charge?”

Hotch nodded his head, picking you up and setting you on his side. “Oh yes, we can both be unit chiefs, we’ll both tell everyone what to do.”

You nodded and quietly whispered in his ear. “You come Trick-or-Treating with me an’ Daddy?”

Hotch let a soft smile appear on his face, he looked back at you and stroked the top of your head. “Well, I think that I can make some time for that.”

You grinned excitedly and clapped your hands, looking at Spencer. “Daddy! Uncle Hotch is going too!”

Hotch walked back out into the bullpen with you in his arms. “Excuse me, everyone. My Co-Unit Chief and I are going Trick-or-Treating, she has also invited anyone who’d like to come along.”

You put your little hand up and frowned. “Wheels up in thirty!”

The rest of the night was a memorable one, the team and you went house to house getting candy and treats. Spencer was preparing for the intense sugar rush that was going to inevitably happen when they got home. The night ended with you sharing the candy with the team and falling asleep in the car on the way home.

[allieslittlewritings]

Smiley Hotchner

Aaron Hotchner + toddler!daughter!reader

Summary: Toddler!reader spends a day at the BAU

Warnings: None, vague UnSub things

Word Count: 750

‎Aaron bringing you to the bureau was a rare occasion. He had always preferred to keep you away from his work as much as humanly possible. However, when their most recent case involved a local UnSub whose victims all bared an eery resemblance to you, he couldn't ignore the nagging voice in his head telling him you would be safer with him.

Though it leaned towards unprofessionalism, he couldn't help himself. He called your babysitter and she brought you to the bureau shortly after.

The other team members diverted their attention from the evidence board to the small footsteps sounding through the bureau.

Blissfully unaware of the real reason you were there, you immediately ran to your dad with a bright smile on your face. Aaron felt the tension in his posture ease when he saw you.

"Hi, Daddy." Your loving smile remained on your face.

"Hi, honey." The smile on his face was smaller but no less full of love and warmth. He started carrying you to his office, pointedly staring at the rest of the team so they would get back to working on their profile.

"How was your day, sweetheart?" Aaron asked, putting you down on the couch in his office.

"It was good!" You reached into your little backpack and pulled out a piece of slightly folded paper. "My teacher told us to draw something we love, so I drew you." You held the piece of paper out to your dad, expectedly waiting for him to take it.

He gratefully took it and felt his heart melt in his chest. The scribbles you had drawn would by no means be hung in a museum (unless it was owned by Aaron in which case it would be the number one display), but it was surely one his favorites pieces of art to ever be created.

A line of red as his tie, messy brown dots for his eyes, and a wonky line on his face to represent a grin.

"Do you like it?" you asked hopefully.

He bent down to be closer to you. "I love it." He gently kissed your head and handed the drawing back to you.

For the next few hours, you stayed in his office, drawing more scribbles and playing with the toys he kept in his office for you.

Most of the team went to apprehend the UnSub. Their profile indicated that the UnSub would comply relatively easy when arrested so a few of the team stayed behind.

Aaron being the Unit Chief meant he had to go along. Before he left he asked the ones staying behind to keep an eye on you.

Reaching up to open his office door, you curiously exited his office. Spencer and JJ were in the bullpen, removing things from the evidence board and putting files away, while Penelope sat on Spencer's desk and told them about the reality TV show she was currently watching.

You ran, carefully so you wouldn't trip, to where they were and waited for them to acknowledge your presence.

"Hi, Y/N!" Penelope happily greeted you, holding her arms open for a hug.

You practically crashed into her and hugged her back before doing the same to JJ, and Spencer. You opted for staying by him, holding onto one of his legs and admiring his shoes. You wondered how he kept them so clean when he wore them just about every time you saw him.

He wasn't sure whether he should politely tell you to let go of him, so he could remove a somewhat graphic photo from the board before you saw it, or let you stay there.

He looked at JJ and Penelope, visibly conflicted and in need of help.

Penelope smiled amusedly and gently poked your arm, getting you to look up at her with one eye, the other being lightly squished against Spencer's leg. "Hey, baby Hotch, why don't we go to my lair and I can show you the new game I made?"

"Ooh, okay!" You let go of Spencer and held out your hand for Penelope to take.

She grabbed your hand and started leading you to her office. You looked back at JJ and Spencer, who very quickly covered the photo he'd wanted to remove, and waved at them. Spencer wasn't thinking very well when he removed his hand from the board to wave back to you. Realization only hit him when he saw your gleeful expression morph into one of shock.

Aaron happened to walk back into the bureau at that exact moment and saw the surprise on your face. Spencer gulped nervously at the hard stare Aaron gave him.

Before he could go over to scold him for not being more careful, you tugged at his pant leg and looked up at him, gaining his attention. He leaned down, thinking you were upset. "What is it, honey?"

"Daddy, I desperately need shoes like Uncle Spencer's."

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

can i request a hotch x two-years-old-daughter!reader? i could totally see her begging her dad to let her wear her pink, poofy princess dress when hotch has to take her to work with him. but while hotch is busy, she manages to wander off. she then meets spencer (i imagine this takes place when spencer’s just starting with the bau) & immediately clings to him lol. she’s just very giggly, bubbly, cuddly, & LOVES to play with his hair. & poor spencer is just so confused but is endeared by her nevertheless. & then hotch finally finds her & is relieved. <3

sorry it’s so long! love your works!

Aaron Hotchner X Young Daughter reader

Request: can i request a hotch x two-years-old-daughter!reader? i could totally see her begging her dad to let her wear her pink, poofy princess dress when hotch has to take her to work with him. but while hotch is busy, she manages to wander off. she then meets spencer (i imagine this takes place when spencer’s just starting with the bau) & immediately clings to him lol. she’s just very giggly, bubbly, cuddly, & LOVES to play with his hair. & poor spencer is just so confused but is endeared by her nevertheless. & then hotch finally finds her & is relieved. <3

I do love young Hotch daughter who is completely opposite to her dad. Around season 1, Hailey is alive and just had Jack.

Third person pov...

Hailey smiles as her Husband runs around after their hyperactive 2 year old, little Y/N Hotchner was a ball of sunshine and energy.

The 2 year old was excited she had a baby brother and loved to play with him, though she loved playing with her Daddy even more.

Currently the little ball of energy was running around the house away from her Dad who was attempting to put her in her clothes, she was going to work with him for the day.

The little girl was only half dressed as she ran before the man could put her trousers on, giggling she shouts "no daddy!" As the man almost grabs her, a smile on his face.

Still chasing the girl, surprised at how quick she was for a tot, though he wasn't running more like in slow motion, wanting the chase to last a little longer, it wasn't every day he got to do this with his daughter (besides he had time before work started)

From the living room, Hailey watches her Husband and daughter with a smile on her face as she held her sleeping baby, Jack was sound asleep as if nothing was happening.

As they make another loop around the house Aaron stops and hops into the doorway of the living room, back pressed against the wall, Hailey watches her husband as he made a shush motion.

"Daddy?" Calls Y/N as the tot ran past the room, a confused look on her face and she looked for her dad. Poking her head around the door she looked at her Mum. "Where daddy?" She asks a pout on her lips.

Hailey fails to hide her smile as her daughter was grabbed and thrown upside down, giggling madly Y/N yelled to be let down. "Daddy! Let go" giggling even more when her tummy was tickled.

"Never, now its time for naughty girls to be dressed" he tells his daughter smiling wickedly as he continues to tickle his daughter, the H/C girl only wiggled in his grasp.

"No no daddy, wanna wear princess dress" yells the tot, Aaron stops his attack and looks at his wife. Hailey only shrugs her shoudlers.

Ever since her birthday Y/N loved one gift in particular, it was a beautiful poofy princess dress her parents got specially made for her.

She loved wearing it every time they went out and was always careful to keep it clean. Hotch sighs of course she would want to wear it to his work.

Looking down at the sad puppy look hisbwas getting he gave in. Hanging his head he stood up Y/N in his arms.

"Okay, Princess dress it is" he declared, dramatically, while bouncing the little girl in his arms before walking upstairs with a happy Y/N "yayy" cheers the young girl.

Finally ready to go Hotch grabbed his brief case, his lunch and Y/N lunch. As he headed for the door he called for Y/N the little girl eagerly bouncing over to him as he helped her put on her light up shoes.

"Ready princess" he asks her, Y/N gives him a huge gumming smile. "Yes Sir Daddy!" She saluted him before hugging her Mum and baby brother before leaving. "Good luck" Hailey whispers as she kisses Aaron.

When they arrived at the FBI headquarters Hotch pulls his daughter aside. "Now N/N, I know your excited, but I need you to stay close to me today okay? The office is busy and I don't want you to get lost" he explains to the girl.

Y/N smiles and hugs his neck giggling. "Yes Daddy! I be good" she smiles, Hotch pats her head a smile on his lips. "Thank you N/N" the two Hotchners then walk into the busy building.

And what a pair they made, Hotch in his usual suit and red tie combo, his stoic expresson on his face. Y/N in her pink poffy dress with light up shoes waving and smiling at all the agents she sees.

Once they get to the bullpen, Y/N is introduced to the team who are all excited to meet the young girl. Soon Hotch is busy in his office mountains of paperwork to go through.

On the floor lays Y/N, the young girl had grown bored it staying in the office. She had drawn lots of pictures, played with her toys. Now she wanted to explore.

Getting up from the floor she walks over to the door and opens it quietly, giggling silently she squeezes through the gap and is now free from the room.

Giggling she runs around the bullpen looking at all the desk and the members of her daddy's team, one person stand out to her, that's person being Spencer Reid who had jsut recently joined the BAU.

Walking up to thr agent she grabs onto his pant leg and shakes his gaining the surprised Dr's attention, looking doen and the girl dressed in pink spencer gives her an awkward smile.

"Hi..?" He says Y/N grins up at him. "Hi! I'm Y/N" she tells him proudly. Spencer is taken aback how smiley Hotches daughter is.

"I'm Spencer, nice to meet you Y/N" he says, before Y/N holds her arms up to him, Spencer was confused before realising she wanted to be picked up.

Nervously looking over to his bosses office he picks the girl up and sets her down on his lap, Y/Ns smiles brightens as she was held by the young man.

The brown haired man was surprised again when the ball on energy on his lap twisted around so she could koala hug him, pressing tightly to him Spencer hugged her back.

" your nice" came a muffled voice pressed to his chest, Spencer let out a surprised laugh at that making Y/N erupted into giggles all over again.

After hugging spencer the H/C tot began moving around as he tried to work, afgwr wriggling a bit she finally settled behind him, half sitting on top of his chair and half holding onto his back.

Y/N happily played with the agents hair as Spencer worked, he was slowly getting used to the girl spending time with him.

As this happened a very worried Dad was panicking in his office trying to find his daughter, after going through everything in his office Hotch threw open his door and stepped down the ramp into the bullpen.

Morgan stood from his desk as he saw the worried expression on the man's face. "Woah woah, what's happened Hotch?" He asks the worried man.

Shoulders shaking Aaron explained he couldn't find his daughter anywhere, instead of helping Derek just laughed and pointed.

Following his arm Hotch breathed a sigh off relief as he saw where Y/N had got to, smiling he watched his daughter laugh and play with the young doctors hair.

He was glad she was okay and made a new friend. Quickly taking a few pictures he sends them to Haily who messaged back just a quick. "Some one made a new friend" chuckling he responded. "I think they both made a new friend"

Putting his phone away he went back to his office, happy to leave his daughter in his agents capable hands.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot sorry for the wait! Sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Requests are open!

Word Count : 1375

[ddejavvu]

if you would ever consider writing more tutor!reid x hotchner! reader, could i please request something where maybe she gets a really high grade on an assignment or midterm and she shows up to the office to tell spencer in person? maybe they’ve been together for a little at this point <333 i hope you’re doing well we appreciate you so much

part 1

--

Usually when you rush through the doors of the BAU, you beeline for your dad's office. You've been told not to run a thousand times, but nothing ever stops you when you're excited, and the team has learned to ignore your thunderous footsteps until you've gotten the enthusiasm out of your system.

This time, though, instead of racing up the stairs, you rush to Spencer's desk.

"Spence!" You call, and he has little time to turn and take you in before you're grabbing greedily at his face, pressing your lips to his in a clumsy, over-eager kiss.

Ever-dramatic, several BAU mouths fall open around the bullpen. Emily's eyes are shining with amusement, and Derek looks like he's seen a ghost, while various shit-eating grins pass around the small space. Spencer reacts slow, but places his hand over your own on his cheek, blinking bewilderedly when you draw back.

"Angel-" He starts, and the team is only more enthused to hear a nickname like that drop from his lips like it's commonplace, "What-?"

"I got a 100%," You breathe, almost too excited to form actual words. Luckily, you don't have to, because Spencer shoots out of his seat at the news, nearly knocking you backwards if he hadn't caught you around the waist.

The kiss he presses to your lips is equally as urgent and impromptu as the one you'd captured him in, only this time he's the one holding onto you. You have no problem throwing your arms around his neck and giggling into the affection, and when you part lips it's with shaky, shallow breaths.

"That's amazing," He gushes, kissing again at your slightly shiny lips, "Angel, that's incredible!"

"You're incredible!" You counter, "I never would have done it without your help, Spence."

"You two kissed!" Penelope informs you, standing bewilderedly in the doorway of the kitchenette, "Y/N, you- you kissed Spencer!"

"She does that a lot," Your dad emerges from behind her, a note of resignation in his voice even though he swears he's happy for you, "Mostly at my house."

"They-" Penelope turns, dumbfounded as she stares at her boss, "You knew?"

"He caught us," You admit sheepishly, leaning against Spencer's chest, "We were studying math, but- well, we got distracted."

Morgan snickers, standing up to clap Spencer on the shoulder, "Hey, nice one, pretty boy. I'm proud of you. Gonna study anatomy next?"

Your dad's voice drowns out any indignant groans from the team, booming so loudly over the bullpen that you duck your face instinctively against Spencer's chest.

"Agent Morgan, my office, now!"

[princessxt]

You can make a request in the comments or by asking me a question!You can see the list of who I write about here

like and follow to encourage me to keep posting<33

Seven

Pairing(s): Spencer Reid x Daugther Reader

Gender: Fluffy, sad?

Warnings:Family problems, fights between father and mother, psychological abuse.

Summary: Spencer Reid's daughter notices that her friend is having problems at home, and decides to help in any way she can.

——————♥︎♥︎——————

Spencer's daughter was raised in a very loving home. Despite growing up with her mother, her father did everything he could to see her smile, and she could barely remember a time when her father disappointed her. a lot of time with her because of work, but on his days off, he dedicated all his time to her. This dedication made his daughter become a helpful girl, who is ready to help anyone, at any time. sense when a person wasn't well, and it wasn't long before she realized that her best friend, Liam, wasn't well.

They were at lunch, under the bleachers when Y/n decided to confront him about what was happening.

"You don't want to tell me anything? You know I won't judge you, right?" She eats a piece of her snack, trying to create a friendly environment for her friend to vent.

"What are you talking about?" He seems confused by her question, and looks at her.

"It's just that you're a little strange these days, a little sad. I want you to know that I'm here to help you." She puts down her snack and stands in front of him.

"I'm fine, okay! Just... leave it alone." He takes a bite of his snack, trying to change the subject.

"Liam, don't do that, tell me. I can try to help you." She comes closer and puts her hand on his shoulder.

"It's just... my father and my mother are fighting a lot lately, I don't even know why, but they can't even be in the same room together as they start shouting at each other." He lowers his head and she just says it. look. Y/n pulls his arm closer and gives him a hug, trying to make him feel better, but she knew that wouldn't solve her problems.

"We can talk to my father, he can help." She breaks the hug and looks into his eyes.

"I don't want to involve him in this. All this will pass, they will resolve themselves and everything will return to normal. Just wait."

During the last few classes, Y/n couldn't help but think about Liam's situation, becoming pensive and immersed in her own mind. And at the time of her departure, when Spencer went to pick her up, he couldn't help but notice his daughter's condition. .

"You're thinking, what happened?" He looks at his daughter, who becomes distracted when her father's voice sounds.

"You know that friend of mine, Liam? He told me he's having problems at home, his parents are fighting a lot. I tried to help, but he said it would pass and they would sort it out." solve your friend's problem.

"Hey, don't be like that, you can help him in other ways. Pay attention to him and be gentle, that will help at the moment." He calms his daughter, who agrees. She leans her head against the car window, thinking about the What to do to cheer him up?

The other day, Y/n woke up and got ready to go to school, smiling on the way because she had already thought about how to cheer up her friend the night before. She arrived at school and Liam was at the door, with his head down. and greets him, only receiving a "hi" in response.

"I know you're feeling sad these days, and I already know what to do to cheer you up! What do you think about going to my house tonight? We can watch a movie, stay up late, eat lots of sweets! I already I spoke to my dad, he said it's okay, he thinks you're a nice person and you can stay away...from home..."Y/n was talking excitedly about the plans, but at the end of the sentence, Liam raises his head and looks at her, revealing her black eye and cut eyebrow.

"Liam, what was that?" She puts her backpack on the floor and comes closer to him, who takes a step back.

"They were fighting. He was aggressive and... wanted to attack my mother. I wasn't going to let that happen." His eyes fill with tears. Y/n, with a pain in her heart to see her best friend In those conditions, he gives a comforting hug. Liam reciprocates, pressing his body against his, feeling safe in his arms.

"Liam, I'm so sorry!" She feels her eyes watering as she pulls away from the hug.

"It's not your fault! I don't know what to do anymore, I'm tired, I barely slept." He looks into her eyes and she can feel the pain in her eyes.

"I need to help you, Liam, and you need to accept this help!" She says it seriously, and he agrees, realizing the gravity of the situation.

"You can go talk to the school counselor if you want, I'll walk you through the session." She picks up her backpack from the floor when Liam nods. leave the room, Y/n asks Liam's permission so she can call her father, who, as an FBI agent, has contacts. Liam allows it and she calls her father, explaining the whole situation, Spencer, moved, calls some people from social services, and in addition, makes a brief investigation into Liam's family. After all this, Liam receives all the necessary help and is placed in a temporary home, where he is safe and comfortable. When the situation was stable, Y /n remembers his initial plan and calls Liam to his house, preparing his living room for a night of movies between him and his father. Liam arrives at the house and feels his heart warm seeing the affection that the Reid's have for him. Unfortunately, in the middle of the first movie of the night, Spencer receives a call from Hotch, saying that they had an affair, he apologizes and goes to work.

Y/n and Liam, lying together on the mattress on the living room floor, watch different movies until dawn, when sleep comes. They turn off the television and get closer to each other, feeling the heat of their bodies.

"I love you to the moon..."She says.

"...until Saturn"He completes, before falling asleep.

[museatheart]

c.ai bots masterslist (@/museatheart)

Bot request form

Arcane

Caitlyn Kiramman — coming home to you after work.

Caitlyn Kiramman — she’ll always go back to Vi in the end.

Caitlyn Kiramman — she’s jealous of a girl at the bar.

Caitlyn Kiramman — (Attempted) birthday breakfast in bed.

Jinx — you meet her at a Kiramman family dinner. (Modern AU, everyone lives.) (Kiramman!user)

Jinx — Your childhood best friend finds you again.

Jinx — princess treatment.

Jinx — I heard it was someone’s birthday! (Modern!college AU)

Jinx — actress!jinx AU

Powder — countdown until your birthday.

Vi — She sneaks topside to see you. (Everyone lives) (Piltoveran!user)

Vi — You reunite with your childhood best friend.

Vi — new parents.

Vi — she won’t let you work on your birthday.

Criminal Minds

Elle Greenaway — Elle distracts you during a boring date.

Emily Prentiss — It’s hard being casual.

Emily Prentiss — you’re shy so Emily orders for you.

Spencer Reid — He just wants to protect you. (Daughter!user)

Spencer Reid — You visit Spencer after a year on the road.

Encanto

Luisa Madrigal — you refuse to let her lift things for you.

Luisa Madrigal — Wedding nerves.

Marauders era

Dorcas Meadowes — Dorcas is a poet and you’re her muse. (Fame!au)

Dorcas Meadowes — you’ve got a crush on your potions tutor.

Lily Evans — avoiding the paparazzi with drummer!lily. (fame!au)

Lily Evans — having a picnic with girlfriend!lily.

Marlene McKinnon — doing bassist!marlene’s eyeliner. (Fame!au)

Marlene McKinnon — you’re Marlene’s shy girlfriend

Mary McDonald — helping singer!Mary with a song. (Fame!au)

Pandora Rosier — you’re a designer and Pandora is a model.

Regulus Black — academic rivals to lovers.

Remus Lupin — cuddling with Remus and your daughter.

Sirius Black — vampire!boyfriend!sirius feeding from you.

Wolfstar — you’re at art school, missing your dads.

Marvel

Gwen Stacy — Gosipping with your big sister over FaceTime.

Peter Parker — helping out spider-man.

Peter Parker — patching up boyfriend!peter.

S.W.A.T

Chris Alonso — Chris meets your son. (Singlemom!user)

Chris Alonso — You’re Chris’s artsy girlfriend.

[multi-fandom-rando]

Jyfkufkhfjyrjyf

Derek

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

Summary: Y/N Reid warming up to Derek Morgan.

Warnings: fluff and cuteness

a/n: back with this series! hope you all enjoy!

(gif not mine)

The team are all at the office, doing paperwork, no cases having come in today. It's almost lunchtime, Derek and Penelope discussing plans and attempting to talk Spencer into joining them.

Spencer's phone rings and he searches around in his satchel until he finally manages to find it.

"Hello?" He answers the call.

"Hi, Spencer? I think that Y/N's sick. She's coughing a lot and, uh, she feels kind of warm and she won't drink any milk." The babysitter explains.

"Okay, uh... I'll see if I can get off work and then call you back." Spencer says. They bid goodbyes and Spencer hangs up, going to Hotch's office. He knocks on the open door, gaining his boss' attention.

"What is it, Reid?" Hotch asks.

"My daughter's babysitter called and she thinks Y/N's sick. Could I, um... could I take off to go check and probably take her to the doctor? If she's not sick then I'll come right back and get back to work." Spencer says, a timid tone in his voice. He hasn't been working at the BAU super long and he doesn't want to come across as lazy or make a bad impression, but he needs to be there for his daughter as much as he possibly can.

"Of course, Reid." Hotch says.

"Really?" Spencer asks, slightly surprised by the quick agreement to his request.

"Yes. Family comes first." Hotch says.

"O-Okay. Thank you." Spencer says, still a little shocked. He walks out, hurrying to his desk and starting to pack his stuff up.

"What's up with you, Reid?" Derek asks.

"Oh, uh, I just... I just have to go." Spencer says.

"What about lunch?" Penelope asks.

"What, you got a girl waiting for ya?" Derek teases.

"Um... technically, I suppose." Spencer answers Derek.

"Wh-- wait, seriously?" Derek asks.

"Uh, yeah, just not-not the kind of girl you're thinking of. My, um, my daughter is sick, I have to go." Spencer says.

"Whoa, whoa, you have a kid?" Derek asks.

"Yes." Spencer nods once, his ears getting red at the attention and the fact that this is how they're finding out about the most important person in his life. He wasn't sure when he'd tell any of them since they're just his teammates and co-workers, not seeing the need to share his personal life with them. Hotch only knows because it's required for him to know given the job.

"How old is she?" Penelope asks, a small grin on her face.

"5 months, 12 days, approximately 6 hours, 34 minutes, 22 seconds and counting." Spencer says.

"Wow." Penelope mumbles at the precise answer. "Why haven't you told us about her?"

"I don't know." Spencer shrugs.

"I wanna meet her." Penelope says.

"Yeah, we both want to meet her. Very much." Derek says.

"Um... well, she-she doesn't really like new people." Spencer says.

"Well, if we meet her and see her often, we won't be new people." Penelope says.

"I'll, uh, I'll think about it. I have to go. Bye." Spencer rushes out.

- - -

Derek and Penelope somehow managed to talk Spencer into getting them to meet Y/N. It's been a few weeks since she was sick and she's been feeling much better, back to her normal baby activities. The father and daughter are currently waiting at an outdoor cafe, Y/N resting in her carrier, playing with the small blanket Spencer brings in case she gets cold.

"Hey, pretty boy." Spencer hears and looks up to see Derek and Penelope walk over. The blonde has about three different shopping bags in her arms, Derek carrying one small bag shopping bag.

"Hi." Spencer awkwardly waves, giving a closed mouth smile.

"Aw, look at the little baby." Penelope gushes. Y/N looks up at the new people, shrinking back into her carrier a little.

"Don't get too close. Just, uh, she'll cry and then there's also, um, germs, and just-- I mean, I'm not saying you two aren't, you know, hygienic or anything, I just--"

"Relax, kid." Derek chuckles. "We'll keep our space."

"I got her a few things. Derek was cheap and got her one thing." Penelope says, putting the bags on the ground.

"I am not cheap, mama, okay? I just didn't want to spoil her before I knew anything about her." Derek says.

"She's not even one, Morgan. She doesn't know what anything is." Penelope says. "Anyways, I got her stuffed animals and I got kiddie books you can read to her, and some clothes. I don't know if they'll fit, but if they don't hopefully she'll grow into them."

A small smile breaks onto Spencer's face at the mention of books, a warm feeling at somebody remembering when he told them he liked to read a lot.

"I just got her a stuffed animal." Derek says.

"Thank you." Spencer tells them.

"She's a cute baby." Derek says.

"Oh, she's the cutest." Penelope grins, watching the baby Reid fiddle with the end of her sleeve.

- - -

It's been a few weeks since they met Y/N and have had a few other meet ups, one being unintentional since Penelope, Derek, and JJ practically forced Spencer to go out to dinner with them, but he had to get Y/N so she ended up going with them.

Spencer has Y/N on his lap as he sits at the restaurant, having agreed to meet Derek and Penelope for dinner. The duo get there, greeting both Reids. Y/N smiles at them, waving, but stays in her dad's lap.

The three adults start to converse and talk about whatever comes to mind while Y/N busies herself with looking around and playing with her dad's hand.

Soon enough the food comes and Spencer puts Y/N in her high chair, the girl sat between her dad and Derek.

Halfway through the meal, Spencer has to go to the bathroom and quickly assures Y/N that she'll be safe with the other two before he rushes off, trying to be as quick as he can so Y/N isn't without him for too long.

Y/N stares between Derek and Penelope cautiously, leaning away from them.

"Here, little one. You want some of your mashed potatoes?" Derek asks. He picks up the fork Spencer was using for Y/N's food and gets a small helping of the potatoes. He holds it up to Y/N's mouth, the girl looking between him and the food. "It's okay, I don't bite. It's the same potatoes you've been eating this whole time."

Y/N seems to consider it for a bit longer before slowly leaning forward and taking a bite of the potatoes, pulling away from the fork. Derek puts the silverware down, watching her slowly eat the soft food.

"See? Not bad, right?" Derek asks, not getting an answer as Y/N still just stares at him. "You want some more?" He asks after noticing she's done. Y/N gives him a small nod and he gets some more potatoes on the fork, holding it out to her and letting her eat it.

"Ugh. I should've sat next to her." Penelope frowns.

"All in good time, baby girl." Derek assures.

- - -

Y/N is now 8 months old, having finally known the dynamic duo for about 2 1/2 months. She's grown closer to both Penelope and Derek, them being the only other people allowed to hold her aside from her father. She's just met Gideon, not at all comfortable around him, and she's only been around Hotch a few times, most of the time it just being Spencer explaining why he needs Y/N at work that day.

Both older men give off a slightly scary vibe making Y/N close off more than usual. She's a bit closer to JJ, but not as close as she is to Penelope and Derek.

Y/N is currently at Derek's desk, sitting on the floor next to his chair and playing with the few toys Spencer brought from home. Y/N uses Derek's chair and a couple of the desk drawers to pull herself to her feet, something she does often.

Y/N looks around for her father, not finding him. She lets out a whine, pointing to her father's desk, which gets Derek's attention.

"Your dad will be back soon, pretty girl. He just had to go give something to Hotch." Derek says.

The tiny girl huffs, wanting her dad.

"Why don't I take you to his desk? You can sit in his chair for a bit? All by yourself?" Derek suggests and Y/N nods. "Okay."

Derek goes to pick her up, but Y/N simply holds onto two of his fingers. She puts one foot forward, staring at her feet as she puts the other foot forward.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa there, munchkin. Reid! Get out here!" Derek yells. Spencer rushes out, worried something happened, racing down the stairs, stopping when he sees Y/N walking with the help of Derek.

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God, she's walking." Spencer gasps. "Did she fall?"

"Nope." Derek answers.

Y/N reaches Spencer's desk and puts her free hand on the chair, looking up to Derek expectantly. Derek picks her up and sits her on the chair.

"She walked." Spencer says, still in shock. "Oh, baby, you walked." Spencer smiles, going over to his daughter. He picks her up, holding her on his hip. "You walked. You did amazing." He softly praises. "I'm so proud of you."

Y/N's not completely sure what she did right, but she can tell her dad is happy which makes her smile.

- - -

Eleven month old Y/N runs into the bullpen to the best of her ability with her short, chubby legs. She's giggling as Spencer calls after her, chasing her. Y/N runs for Spencer's desk, but is swooped up making her let out a small shriek, before being held correctly, finding Derek being the one to stop her.

"What's up with all the energy?" Derek asks, tickling her stomach making more giggles escape the girl.

"God." Spencer puts his hands on his knees, catching her breath. "I said you were already here and it's like she ate six donuts." He pants out.

"Aw, you're just excited to see your favorite uncle." Derek smiles and Y/N nods, a grin of her own on her face. "Well, I'm excited to see you, too." He says, kissing her cheek.

"D?" Y/N looks at her dad hopefully.

"If Derek is okay with it, yes, you can stay with him for a bit." Spencer says.

"I am more than okay with being around my favorite pretty girl." Derek grins.

[fairytwles]

ya'll, if Hollywood ever needs a father-daughter casting, CAST MGG AND ELLA PURNELL I SWEAR

I don't know if anyone else will see the vision, but I do

[spencewalterreid]

Family Tree (Intro)

part 1. part 2.

Summary: Deeply religious 6-year-old Ethel Cain grapples with her turbulent home life with the help of her best friend, Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / Ethel Cain (p, young age)

Category: Angst, hurt/comfort. Some fluff.

Warnings: brief sexual scene but not exactly smut, cigarettes. Please see master list for overall warnings for the whole series.

Word Count: 4.5k

Author's Note: Those of you that have been paying attention to my recent posts know I'm starting a new series: Preacher's Daughter. Essentially, a chronological account of Ethel Cain's life, with the addition of best friend Spencer Reid. First couple chapters are going to be strictly from Ethel's point of view, but once we get to Western Nights, it'll start flipping between Ethel's POV and Spencer's POV, which will be trying to solve the case of the adrenaline-fueled murders of Willoughby and Ethel as they traverse the west coast. I understand this probably won't be as popular as the Spencer-centered fics, but I hope you guys stay with me!! This was really fun to write and I have a feeling it will only get moreso <3 Please let me know what you think!! Leave as much feedback and as many suggestions as you please, they really help me out. Feedback from you guys is what keeps me going. With all that being said, enjoy the first chapter!

July 8, 1972

It gets hot in Alabama. Blistering, really. Ethel writhed in the grass, trying to find a spot that was still cool, damp from the morning dew. She’s lying under an oak tree in the yard in front of her father’s farm house, mud pressing itself into her white sundress. She’s drenched in sweat, which she thinks might be contributing to the ever-increasing dirt patch under her. The grass tickles the backs of her shoulders as she turns on her side toward the boy beside her, folding her hands under her head.

Spencer had been her best friend since she could remember. She met him when she was two, her mother would tell her. Back then, his hair was always combed back, the curls politely laying into one another. Now, eyes closed and a faint smile on his lips, his hair was wild, brown chunks across his forehead and the ground behind him. His arms were out next to him, fingers splayed against the soft greenery. He’s gotta be hot in that, she thinks, observing his short-sleeved button-up shirt and long, tan pants.

Hearing the shuffle of the grass, Spencer turns toward his companion and attempts to open his eyes, but quickly squeezes them shut again to shade himself from the sunlight with his left arm, then cautiously tries again. He succeeds, gaze landing on the gaunt girl.

“What are you thinking about?” Ethel asks, voice soft.

Spencer shuffles back into his previous position for the most part, but leaves an arm across the upper half of his face. “I dunno,” he sighs. “I’m thinking I don’t wanna get up tomorrow morning.”

Ethel frowns. “What do you mean? We have to. Church is tomorrow.”

“I know that,” he groans. “But I have school on Monday, and it sucks to cut the weekend short,” Spencer replies. “Just because you get to sleep in every day…”

“I don’t sleep in,” she counters with a pout, admiring the soft slope of his chin and the bristle of his shirt in the passive breeze. “Daddy gets me up every morning no later than 8.”

“I have to get up at 6,” he whines, “and my mom never wakes me up in the mornings.”

“That’s because she’s got the devil in her,” Ethel whispers solemnly. “His voice keeps her up at night, so it’s hard for her to wake up.”

Spencer turns over completely this time, still shielding himself with his hand, but looks hard at Ethel. He fights the urge to roll off of his shoulder which is now digging into the hard ground. “I wish you’d quit saying that.”

“Daddy says she’s got the devil in her,” Ethel repeats reasonably, nodding to herself. “It isn’t her fault, Spence, Lucifer can tempt anybody.” She reaches a hand out to touch his shoulder. “It’s okay,” she smiles. “I’ll keep praying for her, and-”

“Ethel!”

She snaps upward and Spencer quickly follows suit, catching sight of her father looming at the end of the porch, frightening and large, thick arms folded across his chest. “You have no right to be touching my daughter like that, boy,” he shouts, stomping down the steps and crossing the yard to the tree. Spencer scrambles up to his feet, glancing back at Ethel for a moment before her father’s firm hand is covering Spencer’s small bicep.

“He didn’t do anything, Daddy!” Ethel cries, standing up as well to try to pull Spencer back.

“It’s okay, E, I’ll-”

Her father shoves a hand against her chest, knocking her to the ground. “You mind your business, child, I’ll deal with you shortly,” he spits, glaring down at her before dragging Spencer behind him, across the street to his house.

***

July 9, 1972

The church is packed like a can of sardines. In a town like this one, everyone goes to church. It’s non-negotiable. Ethel sits in the second row back, twisting in her seat to try to get a look behind her. Spencer isn’t here yet. On any other day, Spencer would attend with the Cain family, but given her father’s impressive ability to hold a grudge, it didn’t surprise her when he failed to offer this morning. It’s 9:32, two minutes past the time Pastor Dan would start service.

“Quit ‘yer squirming,” Dad demands, a tight hand on her shoulder to pull her back down to her seat.

“Spencer is late,” she whispers, talking to herself more than her father.

Dad screws up his face in disgust, scoffing. “Don’t you worry yourself about that heathen. He’s where he belongs, with his filthy mother.”

“Please don’t talk about him like that,” she frowns. “He’s nice.”

“He’s a sinner,” Dad growls, “Now hush.”

Ethel folds her hands in her lap, defeated. Undoubtedly, she’s worried about her friend. She didn’t see him after his front door slammed behind him and her father yesterday afternoon. She assumes his mother was probably asleep, she usually was these days. Spencer said she hasn't been feeling well recently, but if she’s honest, Ethel can’t remember a time where his mother was feeling anything but lousy. She barely hears the words leaving the pastor’s mouth until her father pinches her harshly on the arm. 

“Pay. Attention.”

She bites her lip and tries to listen.

“It is our duty as God’s children to take in those who need to hear the Word. Those who put themselves above the Lord, those who lie, those who cheat, those who commit adultery. Those who do not repent for their sins shall surely perish, Amen?”

A chorus of agreement amongst the crowd rings out. Ethel worries her bottom lip. Her father shoots her a pointed look, but says nothing.

“Romans 6:23,” he begins, spreading a bible across the podium in front of him. There’s an opaque rustling up and down the aisles of parishioners hunting for the verse. “‘For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.’ God expects us to sin, for we are all imperfect; however, when you admit this in the face of our Lord, you shall surely be forgiven. Amen?”

Again, a mindless repetition of the word. Ethel has never liked that part of church. Every Sunday, the same speech more or less, and she doubts anyone in the room thinks twice about it aside from herself. She doubts anyone in the room disagrees with anything he’s ever said. Like last week, when the sermon denounced all who lie, even when it is to save themselves. She recounts all the lies she’s told, or at least tries to.  There are far too many to catalogue, even if she wrote them down each time. When Spencer threw a rock at her window a few weeks ago, scratching a nick into it when he tried to get her attention after her father kicked him out. She’d blamed it on a falling branch. Or when his mother called that morning, demanding he be sent home immediately, though he was at school at the time. Ethel insisted his mother was overseas and got confused about the time zones. When her father asked why his mother would need him home if that were the case, she didn’t have a good answer. She wore long sleeves for a long time after that, and that was the second time one of her sisters let her use makeup. When her father asked where the bruises had gone, another lie: you hadn’t left any in the first place.

Ethel is pulled out of her thoughts when the entire room falls silent at the creak of the door. She whips around in her seat, ignoring her father’s warning hand on her thigh. She grins when she sees her friend, but her face falls pretty quick after that. He’s wearing a sweater, and she’s worried about his warmth even if it is his Sunday best. He catches sight of her and tries to yank a smile onto his quickly-reddening cheeks, but fails miserably. He tugs his sleeves further down his hands.

Spencer is a small boy as it is, but he looks downright tiny swallowed up in his second-hand clothes. His oxford shoes pad dully against the old, scratchy carpet as he travels up the aisles. He sits in the pew behind Ethel, next to a stately old woman who immediately recoils and scoots as far away from him as she can. Ethel smiles at his proximity, and he offers a shy wave.

The pastor remains silent for another few seconds for emphasis before continuing. “You know, in all my years of preaching, there’s one thing I’ve noticed,” he says, closing his bible and leaning his elbows against the podium, left ankle crossed atop the right. “Those who do not attend church regularly are often the ones with something to hide.”

Spencer feels so hot he may catch on fire at any moment.

“I’ve seen people – heathens,” he looks at Spencer, then away just as quickly, “--show their face in the house of God knowing damn well that they are representing the Devil. Do you know what happens to those… individuals?” he continues haltingly, as if it were a tall order for him to refer to Ethel’s friend as a human being. Her stomach twists at the thought. “God strikes them down.” He opens his bible again, rifling through it. “Psalm 28:3: ‘Do not take me away with the wicked and with workers of iniquity, who speak peace to their neighbors, but evil is in their hearts.’” He slams it shut. “That means,” he presses on, and now Ethel thinks he’s purposely looking anywhere but their direction, “that those who lie to God’s children and worship their own false deity in private are not to be considered one of us. The Serpent is cunning, and will try to convince you his cause is just; do not be fooled. These… these creatures… will say anything to make you believe they are of God. Do not believe their lies.”

Ethel glances back toward Spencer, a look of apology in her eyes. Her father pops her in the back of the head. “Eyes forward,” he hisses. She obliges. Spencer sinks further into his pew, wishing the ground would swallow him whole. 

***

The fresh breeze blowing through the valley the church house resides in isn’t as refreshing as Ethel hoped it would be as she shuffles out the door, accompanied by the other youths, the adults trailing a bit behind. As much as her father would abhor it, he can’t see her in the throng of people, and her hand finds Spencer’s as she falls into step next to him.

“Hey,” she whispers, squeezing encouragingly. He chances a glance at her.

“Hey back.” He looks sad. She tilts her head.

“What happened yesterday?” Ethel looks behind her subtly to make sure no one’s paying attention. She concludes they’re in the clear. 

Spencer kicks a rock out of his way and lets go of Ethel’s hand, opting to shove his own into his pockets. “I’m just glad Mom wasn’t roused enough to hear it,” he says.

“I’m sorry.” She tilts her head down and forward to try to catch his eye under his thick curtain of hair, and notices for the first time a red-blue splotch of colour next to his nose. “I didn’t know he’d do that to you.”

“Really? You didn’t see that coming at all?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “I’ve seen what he does to you. It was only a matter of time.”

Ethel sighs, pulling Spencer out of the crowd and to the side of the building, hidden by the shrubbery. “Daddy is nice to me,” she insists, a trying expression on her face. “He loves me.”

“I don’t believe you,” he replies, squinting his eyes. “Your dad loves you just about as much as God loves me.”

She doesn’t quite know what he means by that, so instead of saying anything actually reassuring, she says, “God loves you. He loves all of his children.”

Tears well up in Spencer’s eyes. He crosses his arms and slumps against the dirty panels on the side of the church. “Why, then? Why is he keeping my mom sick, why does he let your dad be mean to you?” He yanks his arms out of the position they were in, in favour of digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, roughly shaking the tears loose.

Sometimes words were futile, Ethel realizes, even if she hadn’t learned how to describe that to herself yet. Making the best choice she could think of, she takes a step forward and gathers her friend into her short arms. “I’ll pray for you,” she says into his ear. Spencer hesitates before placing his hands gingerly onto her back. He nods, even though he knows her prayers are redundant. If he’s a heathen, God probably wouldn’t even take a second glance at Ethel. No one who associates with someone like him is worth God’s time, probably.

“Thank you,” he says anyway. Sometimes you just need to let people think they believe in something. Even if they’re lying. Spencer has learned it makes people feel better to lie, they find it comforting, even if he hasn’t learned why yet.

***

December 13th, 1972

Ethel squints at the mirror, cross-legged on the carpet of her bedroom floor. She studies the red on her lips, garish if she’s honest, and tries to convince herself it makes her look pretty. She tilts her head this way and that, and considers if a different shirt might compliment it more.

At the sound of a knock on her door, she just about jumps out of her skin. “Um- Hang on!” she shouts, rubbing the back of her hand against her mouth to remove the lipstick. The door opens. “I said-” she looks up and sees her big sister, Joanna. “Oh.”

Joanna grins, pearly white teeth matching perfectly with her long, wavy blonde hair. Ethel always admired, maybe envied, her sisters. They were all beautiful. Slim, but not skinny like Ethel. They always looked happy, their joy contagious in its exuberance. They were kind, godly girls. All three of them. Joanna was the oldest, 19. She presses the door shut behind her.

“Oh, honey,” she coos, kneeling down on the carpet next to Ethel. “You can’t just wipe off red lipstick.” She gets on her hands and knees to lean past her little sister and pick up a box of Kleenex, pulling a couple tissues out before setting it down again. She wets it with her saliva. “Tighten your mouth,” she instructs, pulling her lips taut against her teeth. “Like this.”

Ethel complies, and Joanna sets to work pulling the pigment away from her skin as best as she can. “You really shouldn’t be using my makeup, you know,” Joanna chides. “If Dad saw this-”

“Please don’t tell Dad!” Ethel pulls away to sqeak, putting her hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry, I won’t-”

Joanna puts a soothing hand on Ethel’s shoulder. “Hush. I’m not gonna tell Dad.”

Cautiously, Ethel returns to her previous position and her sister continues her work.

“All I’m saying, you could get yourself into a lot of trouble. You have a knack for that lately.” Satisfied with the result, or at least as satisfied as she was gonna get, Joanna crumples up the Kleenex tissues and conceals them between her palms. “You’re very pretty just as you are, you know that?” she leans in just a bit, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Very pretty.”

Ethel giggles. “Not as pretty as you,” she replies, dragging out the last vowel. Joanna smiles that perfect smile yet again, ruffling Ethel’s hair.

“I’m going to the store, do you want to come with me? I’m gonna get some ice cream,” she says with a wink. In a hurry, Ethel scrambles onto her feet, eager to get out of the house.

Passing through the living room, they’re stopped by the news on the TV.

“Earlier this evening, Dan Sanderson was found hanging in the front yard of his Nebraska home. The Sanderson family is not disclosing-”

The TV is shut off before it can continue. Ethel glances at the couch to investigate the loss, and notices her father for the first time since leaving her room. “Daddy?” she inquires, tears filling her eyes. “Isn’t that-”

“Pastor Dan,” Joanna interrupts, reaching for Ethel’s hand. “Oh, my God,” she gasps, pressing her free hand to her mouth.

Ethel sniffles, a hiccup bubbling in her throat. Dad exhales sharply, rubbing his face. “Church should be interesting,” he comments with a chuckle, before bringing a glass of whiskey to his lips. “Where are you girls going?”

“The store,” Joanna replies, voice distant and distracted.

“Leave Ethel here.”

The two glance at one another from behind the couch. Their father still hasn’t even bothered to spare them a well-meaning look.

“But-”

“No. I’m not asking. Be back in 20 minutes, Jo,” Dad demands, and knowing better than to argue, the older girl concedes.

“Yes, sir,” she sighs, letting go of Ethel’s hand. She leans down to kiss her younger sister’s head. “I’ll be back soon with some chocolate chip, okay?” Joanna asks, fingertips against Ethel’s cheek.

“Okay,” she nods.

Ethel stays put until a few moments after the door clicks shut, processing the death of the pastor. She’s never known anyone who was dead before.

Dad looks at her for the first time today, sitting up and poking his head over the couch. “Come here, darlin’.”

She crosses the room with tiny, shuffling steps, coming to stand next to the soft leather sofa. Dad takes her wrist, not unkindly, and pulls her toward him, and she has to get onto the furniture to comfortably follow his tugging. He nestles her under his arm, fingertips rolling the hem of her dress distractedly as he unpauses the TV.

“Do you want to watch cartoons?” he offers, knuckles against her lower thigh, just above her knee.

Ethel doesn’t reply, eyes glued to her father’s heavy, broad hand on her dress. 

“I asked you a question.”

“Okay,” she says, for the second time in the last two minutes.

Satisfied, Dad lays his head back against the arm of the couch, and Ethel nestles herself into his side. They stay like that for a while, bold two-dimensional colours casting an uncomfortably blue glow over the room. Joanna comes home unceremoniously, puts the ice cream in the freezer, and trudges back to her bedroom. Ethel assumes the other two are probably also in their bedrooms. She realizes she hasn’t even spoken to them in a couple of days. They’ve been distant lately.

“Daddy?”

“Hm?”

When she looks up, she sees his eyes are closed and at some point, he’d finished his glass of whiskey; it’s sitting empty on the side table.

“Can I go see Spencer?”

Suffice it to say, Ethel does not leave her bedroom for the rest of the evening and the better half of the next day.

***

December 17, 1972

Dad took over for Pastor Dan the very Sunday after his death. Ethel wondered if they’d take a week off to mourn, but honestly, she should have known better. It was silly, in retrospect.

Her sisters actually happened to like Spencer, which was very lucky for Ethel. That meant while Dad was in front of the congregation, she got to sit next to her friend. They walked together today, a nice change of pace from driving with Dad. The only reason Dad let them go together was the promise that Joanna, Hope, and Allison would go with her. They were considerate enough to walk a good distance behind Ethel and Spencer.

The sermon made Ethel sick. The look on her father’s face as he talked about a father’s duties was… personal. He watched her and her sisters for most of it. She sank under his unforgiving stare as he spoke about protecting your brood, about keeping them close, and keeping them pure. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she liked that it made Spencer hold her hand.

***

March 23, 1980

“Aren’t you- worried- your dad- will come in?” the boy asks between presses of Ethel’s lips to his. She isn’t sure of his name (William? He said Will, she thinks?), and she’s less sure she cares.

Ethel shakes her head. “No,” she mumbles, hands firmly on the boy’s shoulders, knees on either side of his hips. “He’s out cold.”

She slides her grip down his biceps, then to his waist, and pulls the hem of his shirt up his abdomen. He obediently lifts his arms to allow her to yank it over his head, then makes quick work of removing her own top. 

For a moment, she has the instinct to cover up. One of her biggest insecurities (aside from the evil, ungodly thoughts in her head) is how skinny she is. She’s all leg, skin and bone from head to toe. She tries to eat more, really she does, but she’s nauseous so often that it’s hard to keep it down. She wonders fleetingly why Dad hasn’t said anything about her continuously dwindling figure.

Her spiral is interrupted when the boy groans, going to grope her chest. He drags his thumb across a stick-n-poke tattoo, a cross just below her collarbone. Ethel’s stomach lurches, sending a rush to her head. I shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be doing this. This is a sin. I can’t take this back. God will know I’m not a virgin. He’ll know I’m not pure anymore. What if Daddy can tell? What if he doesn’t love me anymore? What if he stops-

She groans when he rocks his hips into her, making his erection very apparent. In that moment, she really could not give a damn about her father – for that matter, either of her fathers.

***

March 29, 1980

“You sure you don’t want a puff?” Ethel offers, cigarette dangling from between her index and middle fingers. Spencer shakes his head, which is currently resting on his interlocked fingers, elbows bent out to the sides as he stares at the night sky.

She finally got Spencer to come over again for the first time in a long time, considering the last visit ended with Dad damn near strangling him in an alcohol-fueled stupor (which is becoming more and more common), insisting he “had the devil in him”. 

“Suit yourself,” Ethel shrugs and takes another drag. “Do you ever think about having sex?” she asks bluntly, snuffing out the cigarette on a shingle and turning her head toward Spencer. He chokes on a breath, sitting up slightly to get a better look at her.

“What?”

“Don’t what me. Don’t act like you haven’t considered it,” she says, sitting up on her elbows. “I mean, seriously, Spence. Have you even had your first kiss?”

He deflects expertly. “Have you?”

Ethel holds a puff of air in her cheeks then blows it out sharply, laying back down and interlocking her fingers over her stomach. She considers telling him. For the last week, she hasn’t stopped thinking about her night with that boy. It felt nice to finally go all the way, felt nice to not walk away from a sexual encounter feeling positively filthy. To be able to call the shots for once, not worry about the stakes of your performance quality. Ultimately, she decides against it. “How’s college?” she asks bitterly.

“No, E, what were you gonna say?” Spencer sits up completely, crossing his ankles under his shins.

“Spence, drop it, please?” Her voice is soft, almost scared. It sounds like a prayer, breathy and secretive, like if she said it too loud, the request was sure not to be granted.

“What happened?” he matches her tone, sweet and calm, just as he always has been. Ethel thinks she’s never heard him raise his voice before, even minimally.

“I snuck a boy in,” she replies before she can stop herself. “We, uh. We did it.”

She wanted to use the word. The dirty one. She wanted to use the word she couldn’t use while that boy was inside her, no matter how hard he tried to get her to. She wanted to swear, really she did, but she couldn’t. Funny, the lines a 16-year-old-girl draws.

“How do you feel?” Spencer picks up her hand, toying with the couple of rings on her fingers.

“A little chilly, and the roof isn’t very comfy,” she replies, wiggling to emphasize her point, but careful to keep her hand in his grip.

Spencer glares. “You know what I meant.”

Ethel sighs, deep in her chest. “I don’t know,” she replies. “I mean, I liked it. It felt good. I just…”

“You can’t stop thinking about him,” Spencer adds delicately, not managing to meet his friend’s eye.

“Yeah.” Ethel swallows thickly, dragging her fingertips of the hand Spencer has held captive against his palm.

Spencer shifts a bit to get closer and adjust his grip, commencing a massage on the back of her hand. “I’m always here with you. If it gets to be too much…”

“I know,” she whispers, voice cracking. She drops her chin to her chest. “Thanks.”

Ethel lets Spencer keep her hand but lays back against the roof, closing her eyes with a sigh at his nimble fingers working the muscles.

“He was pretty, you know? Real pretty. Sharp,” she says, and she imagines the pinched expression on Spencer’s face; eyebrows knit tightly, lips pursed. “I like him a lot, Spence. I think I could fall in love with him,” she continues with a dazed smile.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” he says. “For that matter, you shouldn’t have even been having sex before you got married. It’ll be hard to go to confession when the preacher is your father.”

She knew he wasn’t judging her. It wasn’t unkind, the way he spoke to her. She’s grateful for that.

“I know,” she mutters, smile falling. “I just…” She opens her eyes to find Spencer watching her carefully with exactly the expression she expected. “I wanted to believe someone could find me beautiful.”

“I find you beautiful.”

She could cry at the sincerity, and almost does. She swallows the lump in her throat.

“Yeah, but not beautiful enough to make love to me, right?” Ethel scoffs, shaking her head.

Spencer stops his ministrations on her hand, laying it gently on his knee, still carefully clasped in his own. “Maybe,” he whispers, eyes downcast. Ethel perks up at this, sitting up and leaning on her elbows.

“Really? I mean, maybe I should just strip now,” she says with a grin. Spencer returns it.

Ethel lays back down, a giggle bubbling up in her throat. Spencer remains quiet and lets the smirk play against his mouth for a while.

“Are you getting cold?” he asks, rolling his shoulders.

“A little. Sleepy, for sure.”

Spencer stands up and pulls Ethel with him. Before ducking back in through the window, he stops her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Be careful with that boy, okay? Take it slow, keep your eggs in different baskets.”

Ethel rolls her eyes. “Screw off, virgin.”

Spencer goes home that night with a flurry in his stomach and an uncomfortable tension in his pants.

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Spencer Reid x Reader (Rossi's Daughter)

It’s almost effortless, the way Spencer and I toggle between being on and off. When we’re off, there’s never a question of him seeking out someone else—it’s just not who he is. For one, his casework keeps him impossibly occupied, and for another, we both know the truth: no one will ever hold him like I do. No one will ever unravel him the way I have.

People on the outside don’t get us, and I can’t blame them. To them, Spencer is the genius, the prodigy with his nose buried in books, his mind running laps around theirs. But they don’t see him the way I do. They don’t know the Spencer who can whisper something wickedly clever into my ear and leave me breathless. They don’t know the Spencer who catches me off guard with a smile that feels like a private joke. They’ll never know the man who’s sexy without trying, whose mystery keeps me coming back for more. He’s an enigma I can’t stop solving, even when I think I’ve got him figured out.

To the outside world, our relationship might look like a puzzle, fragmented and strange—one moment we’re deeply in sync, the next we’re distant like strangers. But that’s us. We’re chaos and calm, passion and hesitation, a bond that defies simple explanation.

And now, here we are again, side by side at the bar down the street from my dad’s house. My dad loves throwing these little celebrations for his team—a way to mark the end of grueling casework. This one was different, though. A two-week marathon of intensity, and now everyone’s unwinding. Normally, during one of these “off” phases, Spencer and I would fall into our usual rhythm: separate lives, no strings, letting the other disappear for a while. But this time, it’s different.

Two weeks ago, Spencer started to feel it—the shift between us, the deepening connection that neither of us could quite ignore anymore. And I saw the flicker of fear in his eyes. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared, too. I’ve been avoiding “serious” for so long, but with Spencer, it just feels...inevitable. Natural. That is, until he switches gears, pretending like we’re nothing more than casual, trying to convince himself we’re just a passing thing. But we both know the truth.

When it’s just the two of us, tangled in each other and the silence, it’s the only time he lets himself exhale. I feel it in the way his body relaxes, in the way he clings to the quiet, to me. I’m his sanctuary, his one moment of peace in a life full of chaos.

Spencer thinks I don’t notice the walls he’s built, but I do. I see through the guarded way he speaks, the way he tries to keep me at arm’s length. I know why he does it—his past, his losses. He’s afraid of getting too close, terrified of losing something he can’t bear to live without. And I understand. After all, his mother couldn’t always be there for him, and his father...well, we both know that story. Even with the team, with JJ and Morgan and the others, there’s still a part of him that longs for a different kind of connection. The kind he’s found in me.

But Spencer’s comfort in my presence—his reliance on me—has its limits. He’s gotten a little too used to the idea that I’ll always be here, waiting, and it’s started to test me. I know he feels safe with me, and I love that, but there’s a part of me that wonders how long I can keep waiting for him to realize what we have. How long before he stops pretending and lets me in completely.

Because no matter how much he tries to deny it, no one will ever know him like I do. And no one will ever love him the way I can.

I’m seated at a high-top table with the girls, laughing at whatever joke JJ just cracked, but my focus keeps slipping. I can feel Spencer’s eyes on me from across the room. He’s standing at the bar with Morgan, but it’s like his attention is tethered to me, no matter where I go. That smirk—half knowing, half teasing—has been plastered on his face since I walked in.

And why wouldn’t it be? I’m wearing a tiny skirt in his favorite shade (of course, that wasn’t an accident) and a sheer white top that offers just a peek of the delicate lace beneath. It’s the kind of outfit that drives Spencer crazy because it’s equal parts sweet and sinful. He says he doesn’t want me, but we both know better. I know better.

So, I am sitting at a little hightop table with the girls, and I can feel Spencer's eyes and smirk pointing my way from the bar he's standing at with Morgan. I'm wearing a tiny little skirt that's his favorite color (obviously on purpose), and a sheer white top that you can slightly see my lacy bralette through. You know when you just know a guy still wants you even after he says he doesn't? Yeah that's the feeling I'm getting, I know Spencer better than anyone, and that man wants me.

Normally, I’d be smug that we’re back to normal, him undressing me with his eyes while pretending we’re just friends. However, I haven't decided if I want to curse him out or take him back to my house. I think tonight, if Spencer wants me back, he's going to have to earn it.

“I think Spence is going to combust if you don’t go over there and give him some attention,” JJ teases, her voice low but full of amusement.

The table bursts into laughter, and I lean back, swirling my drink with a smirk. “Oh, he’s going to have to do a lot better than those puppy-dog eyes tonight. I’m not giving in so easily.”

“Really?” Emily chimes in, raising an eyebrow. “Because it looks like you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger already. You’re going to make him suffer, aren’t you?”

I flash a wicked smile. “Maybe. Or maybe I’ll just make him think I’m moving on. ‘I could be someone’s wife,’” I say dramatically, quoting the line from my head and earning more laughs from the girls. “He doesn’t get to string me along and expect me to be waiting for him whenever he’s done overthinking everything.”

Penelope, ever the romantic, sighs dramatically. “But the tension between you two? It’s chef’s kiss. And that man looks like he’d follow you anywhere if you so much as crooked your finger.”

I shrug, feigning indifference, but the truth is, I’m soaking it all in. Emily nudges me, her voice taking on a playful edge. “Well, if you’re serious about giving him a hard time, you better brace yourself, because lover boy is on his way over.”

Spencer walked up to the table and waved to the ladies, and then leaned in to whisper in your ear, "You look good tonight". You seductively smirked and grabbed his jaw line with your hand pulling his ear to your mouth. As he smirks, you whisper back, "I know". His expression changes to one of confusion, as you would usually compliment him back, but instead you drop your hand and get up. "Pen, do you want to go to the ladies room with me?", her head perks up as she pretends to not have been watching that entire interaction and replies, "Oh! Yes of course, no fabulous female should ever venture too far alone!".

I brush past Spencer, my shoulder grazing his arm, but I don’t spare him a glance. I can feel his eyes following me as I walk away, his confusion and frustration practically burning holes into my back.

Let him stew. If Spencer wants me, he’ll have to work for it.

When Penelope and I return to the table, I don’t look in Spencer’s direction, even though I know he’s still watching me. Instead, I slide into my chair with a bright smile, joining the girls in laughter like nothing’s out of the ordinary.

Across the room, my dad, Rossi, catches my eye. He’s holding court at the bar, recounting one of his famous stories to a group of agents, his glass of scotch in hand. With a quick glance at the table, I lean over to JJ. “Be right back,” I say, standing up and making my way to him.

Rossi spots me approaching and pauses mid-story, a smile spreading across his face. “Ah, there’s my favorite critic,” he says, wrapping an arm around me as I step into his side.

“Favorite? Am I your only critic, Dad?” I tease, stealing the olive from his drink and popping it into my mouth.

“Probably,” he replies with a chuckle. “But you keep me honest.”

The agents around him disperse, leaving us a moment of quiet. He glances back at the table where the team is gathered and then back at me, his expression softening. “You seem...distracted tonight. Something on your mind?”

I shrug, playing it off. “No, not really. Just the usual chaos.”

“Uh-huh.” He gives me a knowing look, the kind only a father can master. “Let me guess. It has something to do with our resident genius over there?”

I sigh, leaning against the bar. “Does it have to be that obvious?”

“To me? Yes.” He takes a sip of his drink, his tone turning serious. “Look, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but...whatever’s going on between you two, make sure it’s something you’re happy with. Don’t settle for less than you deserve.”

His words hit a little too close to home, and I nod, unable to meet his gaze. “I know, Dad. I’m not settling.”

He studies me for a moment, then smiles softly. “Good. You’re my daughter. You’ve got Rossi standards to uphold, after all.”

I laugh, rolling my eyes. “Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Damn right.” He winks before turning back to his drink. “Go on, sweetheart. Don’t let me keep you from the party.”

With a quick kiss on his cheek, I leave him at the bar and head back to the table, but my focus isn’t on the girls anymore. It’s on Spencer, who’s still standing with Morgan, but his attention is locked on me.

I make my way back to the table, but my seat feels too far from the real reason I came back. I can feel Spencer’s eyes tracking my every move, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking his way. I sit down with the girls, pretending to be fully engrossed in Penelope’s animated story about her latest tech snafu.

But then I hear his voice, low and soft, behind me.

“Can we talk?”

The girls exchange subtle glances, but no one says a word. I don’t look at him right away. Instead, I take a deliberate sip of my drink and lean back in my chair, looking up at him with a perfectly raised eyebrow.

“Talk? Now that’s new for us,” I say, the words laced with a teasing edge.

Spencer doesn’t smile. His gaze is steady, and there’s something vulnerable behind his usual composure. “Please,” he murmurs, his voice quieter now.

JJ gives me a little nudge under the table, and Penelope wiggles her eyebrows dramatically. I sigh, pushing back my chair and standing up. “Fine,” I say, brushing past him as I head toward the quieter side of the bar.

He follows, and the sound of his footsteps feels louder than the music in the background. I stop near a corner booth and turn to face him, crossing my arms.

“What do you want, Spencer?”

He hesitates, shifting from one foot to the other like he’s trying to decide where to start. “I... I don’t know,” he admits finally. “I just—”

“You don’t know?” I interrupt, my tone sharper than I intended. “Because from where I’m standing, it seems like you know exactly what you’re doing. You push me away, pull me back, and then act like I’m the one who can’t figure it out.”

His jaw tightens, and I see the flicker of frustration in his eyes. “It’s not like that,” he says, his voice a little firmer. “It’s—complicated.”

“Oh, complicated,” I say with a sarcastic laugh, stepping closer to him. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Spence. Because I’m tired of complicated.”

He looks at me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine, and then he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You’re right,” he says quietly. “I’ve been... difficult. And I don’t mean to be. It’s just—”

“Spit it out,” I challenge, my voice softer now but still edged with impatience.

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and then he steps closer, closing the space between us. “I’m scared,” he says, so quietly I almost don’t hear it.

The words hit me like a punch to the chest, but I don’t let it show. Instead, I tilt my head, meeting his gaze. “Scared of what?”

“Of this,” he says, gesturing between us. “Of how easy it is to be with you. Of how much I... need you.” His voice cracks slightly, and he looks away, as though the admission costs him more than he expected. “And I’m scared of losing it. Losing you.”

For a moment, I don’t say anything. I just look at him, the way his shoulders slump like he’s carrying more than his share of the weight. And as much as I want to stay mad, my resolve starts to crack.

“Well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it,” I say finally, my voice softer now.

He looks at me again, and the vulnerability in his eyes is almost too much to bear. “I know,” he says. “And I’m sorry. I’m not good at this, at... us. But I want to be.”

There it is. The honesty I’ve been waiting for.

I take a step closer, reaching out to gently tug at his tie. “You’re not getting off that easy, Dr. Reid,” I say with a small smirk. “If you want me, you’re going to have to prove it.”

His lips twitch, almost forming a smile, but there’s still that seriousness in his eyes. “I will,” he says, his voice steady. “If you’ll let me.”

I let go of his tie, my fingers brushing against chest, "Show me"

Spencer doesn’t move, and neither do I. The space between us feels charged, electric, like the air before a storm. My fingers linger just above his tie, not touching him but close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his chest.

“Show me,” I say again, my voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes drop to my lips for a fraction of a second before meeting mine again. “You don’t make it easy, you know that?”

“Why should I?” I challenge, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve made me work for every ounce of your attention, Spence. Maybe it’s time you see how it feels.”

His jaw tightens, but his lips curve into the smallest of smirks. “Fair enough,” he murmurs. Then, his voice drops, low and velvety. “But don’t forget, I’m a quick learner.”

The heat between us builds, and I can feel my pulse quickening. His confidence—subtle, restrained—is maddening, and yet I can’t look away.

“You talk a big game,” I say, tilting my head slightly, “but I’m not convinced yet.”

“Not convinced?” He steps closer, and I’m acutely aware of how close we are now. His hand brushes against mine, deliberate but fleeting, and the touch sends a jolt up my spine. “Tell me, what would it take to convince you?”

The corner of my mouth curves upward, a dangerous smile playing on my lips. "I'm sure you'll figure something out."

I take my hands off of him, a slow, deliberate motion, as I turn to walk away, the air thick with the tension between us. But just as I make my move, his grip tightens on my arm, pulling me back with a force that leaves me breathless. Before I can fully process what’s happening, his body presses against mine, his lips capturing mine in a kiss so intense it steals the air from my lungs. The heat between us ignites instantly, the world around us fading as his kiss deepens, claiming me in a way that leaves no room for doubt.

He's definitely got me back.