Spencer Reid | Oneshots

Serendipitous ☁️ (PG)

Summary: Spencer's pretty sure Penelope mixed up his blind date.

Rating: PG (13+)

Content Warning: Reader is an underwear model, Blind date, discussions of lingerie, insecurity, white lies

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Penelope had known that I would feel comfortable in a cafe. Even one as pretentious as this. I tried not to take offense to the fact that the pompous nature of it was probably part of why she'd picked it for me. Because I had to admit that she had been right. The warm, mellow jazz music and the distinct lack of children, while slightly solemn, also meant that there would be few distractions from what had been meant to be the focus of my attention.

That one that I was waiting for. Whoever she was.

'It's a blind date, Spencer,' Penelope had balked when I'd asked, 'I can't tell you what she's like!'

Although I'd teased her for her unfortunate wording, which in fact gave away at least some aspect of my date's gender, I'd failed to extract any other information from the clever woman besides the original details she'd provided.

My date would be a woman, as I'd just learned. She was also a respected academic scholar with one less PhD than me. I'd honestly almost called off the date based on that fact alone, considering my competitive, petty nature would most likely require me to earn at least two more to feel at all deserving of such a woman's affections.

It was too late, though. I was already there, sitting alone at a quiet cafe and waiting for a woman I knew virtually nothing about. She could have been anyone — anyone at all.

Logically, I knew that I should abandon all expectations and allow myself to be surprised. But when a woman did approach me, I found myself unable to believe that she had been the one I was meant to be meeting.

That was, until she spoke.

"Are you Penelope's friend?"

"Sorry?" I asked, still caught off guard by what my eyes were assuring me to be true.

"Sorry, I'm meant to be meeting someone—" she started, just for my brain to finally catch up at the same time and shout over her entirely on accident, "I-I mean, sorry, yes! I am."

"Phew, thank god," she laughed as she took a seat. "That was about to be super embarrassing for me."

The first thing I noticed about her — beyond the jaw-dropping beauty that I had certainly not been expecting, no matter how highly Penelope spoke of her — was the way she sat with such confidence that I suddenly became certain I'd been sitting wrong. I found myself trying to alter my own appearance to reflect her own, and I wondered if she realized how incredibly intimidating she was.

But as she set her drink down on the table, she let out a long, slow breath before lifting her hand for me to shake and announced, "It's nice to meet you, I'm (y/n)."

Despite my dislike of the gesture, I followed through with it so that I would be able to shatter the dreamworld I must've stumbled into. When I touched her and she remained solid, however, I had to come up with something to say.

"I'm Dr. Spencer Reid— y-you don't have to call me doctor, though. I—"

Safe to say, I panicked.

Eventually, I managed to end the terrible thought with two words I was sure were significantly less confusing and strange. If only barely.

"I'm Spencer."