The sound of soft music filled the cozy living room as you leaned back against the couch, flipping through the pages of your book. The smell of freshly baked cookies wafted from the kitchen, where your dad—Spencer Reid—was humming quietly to himself as he set up a tray with your favorite snacks and a steaming mug of hot cocoa.

“Alright, kiddo,” he said, carrying the tray with the utmost care like it was a treasure chest, “Here you go, just like you asked.”

He sat the tray down in front of you before dropping onto the couch beside you. His sweater was slightly wrinkled, and his hair flopped endearingly over his forehead, but he still looked every bit the brilliant and loving dad everyone admired.

Spencer leaned forward, glancing at your book. “You’re halfway through already? I just gave that to you two days ago!”

“I couldn’t put it down,” you admitted. “It’s so good.”

He beamed, his pride shining through as he adjusted his glasses. “I knew you’d love it. You know, I remember reading that when I was your age, and it completely changed the way I thought about—”

“Everything?” you teased, mimicking the way he always talked about books.

“Exactly,” he laughed, nudging your shoulder gently. “See? You’re brilliant.”

It was moments like these that reminded you just how much he adored you. He wasn’t just your dad—he was your biggest cheerleader, your confidant, and the person who made even the smallest achievements feel monumental.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his love settle in your chest. Everyone knew you were his everything—he never hesitated to talk about you at work, sharing stories of your accomplishments or little quirks that made him proud.

For a moment, the room was quiet except for the faint hum of the music. You leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you, holding you close.