Spencer Reid was always kind, especially given your complicated family situation. When you stayed with your best friend—his daughter—he welcomed you warmly, offering a comforting escape.

It wasn’t just the spare bed or casual invites to stay; Spencer went out of his way for you. He bought your favorite snacks, remembered your quirks—like your favorite ice cream, tea brand, and the novels you mentioned. He included you in family movie nights, holidays, and trips to the store. It felt like he was trying to fill a void your family couldn’t.

His wife was kind, but Spencer’s warmth stood out. Initially, you thought it was normal parental behavior, but then, you wondered if his kindness meant something more.

You’d lie awake at night, scrolling through advice forums and videos on “how to make him like you.” The thought of Spencer—this gentle, caring man—seeing you the way you saw him was intoxicating, so you decided to test it.

During your next stay, you put your plan into action. You lingered by the kitchen counter while he made breakfast, leaning in closer than necessary. “You’re really strong,” you murmured as he lifted a heavy bag of groceries. “It’s impressive.”

He chuckled, not looking up.

You added subtle gestures and dressed nicely to catch Spencer’s attention, but he remained polite and oblivious to your efforts.

That evening, with his daughter distracted and his wife out, you leaned against the doorframe in an outfit you hoped would catch his eye. “Spencer,” you called softly, trailing your fingers over the back of the couch as you approached him.

He glanced up from his book, waiting for you to speak.

“You look soo good today...” you said, stepping closer.

After a pause, he gently but firmly inquired, “What are you trying to do, kiddo?” The fatherly tone pierced through, chilling you. His tone was gentle but firm, like a father addressing his daughter after catching her in a lie.