pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
summary: (+18) souls that are meant to be together, smut.
The day after coming back home was always a day to relax, unwind and disconnect. The perfect opportunity to lock himself away from the awfulness of the world he lives in, having the chance to enjoy a nice home cooked meal, or a big cup of coffee, while catching up with the pile of books that keeps growing but are never read because he doesn't have the time to really enjoy what he's reading.
Spencer turned on the stove, the little italian coffee press sat on top of the fire, and while the water warmed up, he stood in front of his bookshelves, deciding which one would make him company in this cold afternoon. As his eyes scanned carefully each spine of every one of his books, he noticed something odd, something that wasn't supposed to be there, that stood out of place amongst its peers. Standing between his books there was this particular one he had never seen before, a red leather hard cover book with gold engravings. He grabbed it with curiosity, a book he never bought, a book that no one had gifted him.
"Perfect, Spencer. You're finally losing your mind, that's just perfect." he murmured to himself, lost in his thoughts. The whistling of the coffee press brought him back, announcing it was ready.
He sat on his couch with his cup on the table in front of him and the mysterious book heavy in his hands. His eyes roamed over it, unable to remember where he got this book from, his eidetic memory failing him for the first time in his life. There was nothing engraved on it, except the title that read The raven. No author, no publishing company, nothing. With the determination to find out what this book was about, he opened it to find a soft glow casting from the pages, drawing him in.
On the first page he found a poem, printed in cursive, waiting patiently to be read once again:
In the tapestry of time, an unexpected grace,
A moment unfurled, a serendipitous embrace.
Underneath the stars, where fate aligns,
Unexpectedly, love blooms and entwines.
Through the corridors of chance, where whispers dance,
Unexpectedly, hearts find their romance.
The words in front of him flowed like a turbulent river, violently pushing him further, drowning in the pages, gasping for air. He was astonished, throughout his life he had read hundreds, if not thousands, of books but never one like this, never one this captivating.
Once he finished, he closed the back cover and gently left it on top of the table, he noticed he didn't even take a sip of his coffee that now rested cold in front of him. The vivid images that the story imprinted on his mind as he sat there, picturing characters and scenarios, made him completely lose notion of time.
A sudden feeling to find the source of this book washed over him, he thought about asking for help, but in fear of his friend Penelope thinking he finally lost his mind, he decided to do it by himself, “how hard can it be?” he thought out loud. He grabbed his laptop from his desk, trying to search the internet to find something about this book, anything. It wasn’t a secret that he wasn’t good at this sort of stuff, technology wasn’t one of his many traits, so when he ended up empty handed and with more doubts than before, he wasn’t surprised at all. In a last frustrated attempt he grabbed the mysterious book and his bag, and walked to the nearest library he could find.
The large wooden door of the old gloomy building rose in front of him, almost denying him entrance, but he repressed the odd feeling aside. The door creaked as he pushed it open, the orange hue of the vintage candelabra illuminated the corridors. It was a ghost town, not a soul in sight as he looked around trying to find someone to help him. He paced through the library, no one at the front desk, no one in the first floor, no one in the archive section. He was about to give up when, from the corner of his eye, he saw someone walking down the back corridor. He followed this woman, unable to catch up with her, she slipped through his fingers at every corner, every turn. Until he got to her.
When he finally was able to lay eyes on her, he was stupefied, her ginger hair falling down like a wildfire over her shoulders. It was the spinning image of the girl he pictured as he read the mysterious book, the vivid memory of what he imagined materialized in front of him, his eyes couldn't believe what he was seeing, his words stuck in his throat. His movements felt as if they were in slow motion, his hand ghosted over her shoulder, but he put it down to not scare a stranger to death. He cleared his throat before speaking, the sound got her attention, making her jump on her heels.
“Good God, how long have you been standing there?” The question made Spencer realize he was being creepy.
“Oh! I…” He took a few steps back, taking distance from the stranger in front of him, even though she didn't feel like a stranger to him, all he had on his mind was the memory of what he read, but that couldn’t be real, right? She’s not the girl in the book, although her face was exactly what he pictured, her voice was exactly as he thought it would be, maybe he was finally going insane. “I’m sorry if I scared you, I was looking for someone to help me with this book I found.”
The rational part of his brain knew it was impossible that she materialized in front of him from the idealization he had on his mind, he knew that humans weren’t able to create faces that they had never seen before, all we as humans know is something that was already seen, already processed in our memory. But the irrational part, that little bit of him that let him enjoy things freely, was questioning if this could be some kind of sick trick. As he spiraled inside his own mind, her voice brought him back to reality.
“Then you’re in luck because I’m the only one that can help you right now.” With a smile and a nod he took the book out of his bag, handing it to her, wishing for his questions to be answered.
Her eyes roamed over the cover, the spine, the pages. Her fingers brushed over the gold engraved drawings, over the title that glowed under the warm lights above their heads. The frown that struck her face made him realize that there was no answer for him in this place, and maybe there wasn’t one at all.
“If I’m completely honest, I’ve never seen this book before, it’s in pristine condition tho.” She started to walk down the hallway with him following her closely. “Maybe we can find something here.” She handed him the book again to open the door of the restricted section, that place in every library where they keep the most rare and antique pieces, those you can’t take home, that are curated to be preserved. The scent of old paper flooded his senses as they entered the room.
Her eyes wandered carefully over the shelves on the walls, maybe to find something similar to what he had in his hands, he couldn’t know what she was thinking, he simply stood there, almost helplessly, waiting and hoping for some kind of information. She spoke under heart breath, as she was thinking out loud but not enough for him to hear. His eyes followed her every move, lost in the way her hair swang with each of her steps, amazed by the way her body moved, soft and gentle around the room.
For a moment his head wasn’t able to separate fiction from reality, she was real, right in front of him. A particular scene of the book flashed on his mind, the depiction of her form in a nightgown that hugged every one of her curves, crawling to the arms of the reader, forget it, crawling to him. His breath caught in his throat, making him cough. Her attention focused back on him.
“Are you okay?” the sweet tone of her voice gave him goosebumps. He didn’t know this girl, but there he was, flustered everytime she looked in his direction.
“Yeah, I’m okay, ____.” He immediately stopped talking, his eyes widened as he realized what just happened.
“How do you…” The dumbfounded look on her face made him stumble back, taking even more distance from her. His cheeks turned red, the words stuck in his chest. “You know my name, how do you know my name?” her tone was defensive, she walked quickly towards the door, the door knob in her hand.
“No, wait. I’m sorry, I… I don’t know your name!” his tone was almost desperate, wanting to explain himself without sounding insane. “Your name is the same as the protagonist in the book, that’s it, and I was lost in thought when you spoke, and I mixed up things, I swear.” his palms were in the air as a sign of surrender, his worried expression reflecting his vulnerability.
He was able to see the doubt in her eyes, her hand hesitantly dropped from the door knob. “Let’s say I believe you… It’s still incredibly creepy.” A little smile tugged from the corner of her mouth. Spencer felt his heart beating again.
“I can imagine it was, and again, I’m truly sorry.” He nervously ran his hand through his hair. “Actually you are gonna find this even creepier but the description in the book looked exactly like you.” He rambled, he couldn't help his nature, and he ended up cursing his mouth for not being able to shut up. She frowned and abruptly took the book out his hands again.
“What page?” Her demanding tone made him fold. ‘17’ he whispered and she searched through the pages. Her face dropped as she read to incredible detail every feature, quirk and freckle she had, the portrayal making her blood run cold. “This is so fucked up.” her cursing surprised him.
“Yeah. I mean, I know.” He stood there not knowing what to say as she kept reading. His gaze focused on her, on how her lips moved as she read silently, how her index finger brushed over the paragraphs guiding her eyes over the words. He didn't know why, but as he felt with the book, he was feeling the same about her.
_____ closed the book abruptly. “Where did you find this?” her question hung in the air for a little too long. He couldn’t find the words to explain how this book ended up in his hands, she wouldn’t believe a word about how he got it.
“I just got my hands on it, nowhere special.” his hesitant tone made her frown.
“What’s your name?” The change of topic made him reluctant.
“Spencer, why?” She smiled and tilted her head.
“Okay, Spencer. You’re gonna tell where you found this book. And don’t spare any detail or I swear to God…” her threatening words took him by surprise, but he did as she asked. He explained everything to her, how it just appeared at his apartment, how he couldn’t -for dear life- remember where he bought it, or if it was a gift, or anything. He also explained how good his memory was, so she wouldn’t doubt him telling her the truth. He noticed the change in her expression, there was something bothering her, and he couldn’t let it pass.
“You’re thinking of something, what is it?” Her eyes focused back on him.
“I thought I was going crazy, I thought it couldn’t be real, but it’s happening to you too, the exact same thing.” She took a step closer towards him, lowering her voice as if they weren’t the only two people in the building. He looked at her like she was in fact crazy, but he knew he sounded crazy too. “It appeared at your apartment, right? Can you take me there?”
“Take you, uhm… Take you to my apartment? Why would I. Why. I don’t…” He mumbled nervously, not a single finished sentence.
“There must be something there, something you missed, a hint of why this is happening to you, to me.” He nodded, almost working on autopilot, taking her with him.
Once in his apartment, ______ looked around with interest, noticing little details that made her story make sense. In her book, the protagonist wasn’t described physically, he didn’t even had a name. “That’s why I didn’t recognize him.” She thought for herself as she watched Spencer standing in his kitchen, making two cups of coffee. His apartment felt familiar, like she had been here before, but all her memories came from the book she found at the basement of the library she works at. The space was exactly as it was described, as her mind imagined it, the green painted walls, the cozy atmosphere, the walls covered with bookshelves, the warm lights that hugged you after a long and awful day.
“_____?” his voice interrupted her thoughts. She turned around and he handed her a cup of coffee. “Did you find anything useful? No, wait, what did you call it earlier… A hint, did you find a hint?” There was a spark of playfulness on his voice, taking her by surprise.
“Unfortunately no hints.” A smile tugged on her lips. Her fingers wrapped around the hot cup of coffee, the feeling of the cold going away was delightful.
“Was your book about me?” He asked shyly, his eyes shining under the warm lights.
“I guess it was.” He looked puzzled at her words. “My book wasn’t as explicit as yours. The main character didn’t have a name, nor a description of how he looked like. But it described places, my place of work, my own apartment, yours… That’s why I wanted to come here, I needed to see if it was you, if it was this place.” He tilted his head, perplexed.
“Are you…” He paused, choosing the right words, his vulnerability showing. “Are you disappointed?” She was taken aback by his question.
“Disappointed?” she asked. “Of course not, Spencer. On what grounds could I be disappointed if there wasn't any concept, any idea, before I met you.” Her words made him understand something that had never crossed his mind before.
Leaving his cup on the coffee table, he reached for the book again, coursing through the pages, looking for a quote he knew he had read before. “The end of my book says that the forces of the universe are what brought the characters together. Does that mean us? Are we the lab rats of a sick mind that tries to mess with us?” His tone was sharp as he spoke. She read the word he referred to, but had a different interpretation.
“I don’t think someone is purposely messing with us.” As she gave her reasons, her explanation made things worse in his head.
Who would want to mess with both of them, two complete strangers that have nothing in common, just because it would’ve been funny? There’s no reason behind that and he was a man of reason, a man of facts and statistics, there wasn’t magic behind this, magic isn’t real, behind every trick there’s an explanation, behind every gimmick there’s an spectator that is too distracted to notice what is happening in front of their eyes.
“Don’t you believe this could be a trick from the universe? Something that we could never comprehend, the universe always has a plan, Spencer.”
“I don’t believe in that sort of stuff, ____. Do you?”
“I think there’s something bigger than what we can understand…” He paced around the living room as she kept talking. “You can’t deny what’s happening here!” Her desperate attempt to make him come to his senses was driving him crazy.
“Well I’m sorry if I don’t believe that the universe is pairing us, _____!” He was getting irritated, his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose as he took a deep breath.
“Then kiss me and let’s find out if this is real or not!” She raised her voice, annoyed, and Spencer couldn’t take it anymore.
He took the short steps that separated them and crashed his lips on hers, letting out all of his frustrations -and his fears- into an earth shattering kiss. And he couldn’t stop. Her lips were soft and sweet, he was getting lost in them, his tongue seeking entrance, wanting more, craving more. There was an invisible force that pulled them together, his arms wrapped on her waist, holding her against his chest.
_____ gasped on his lips, the sound made him feel dizzy, and when she pulled him closer, tangling her fingers on his curls, he was completely gone. He broke the kiss for a second, looking at her eyes to see if there was even a glimpse of doubt, of regret, but all he saw was the same desire he felt. With a little nod and a soft smile she gave him the permission to keep going, and with a smile of his own, he kissed her again.
His steps stumbled back to the door of his bedroom, his lips never leaving hers, her hands holding him impossibly close and her feet clumsily stepping on his, making him chuckle between kisses. Spencer bumped against his bed, sitting down on it, ______ standing between his thighs.
With a shaky touch he pulled up her sweater, his cold fingers touching her for the first time. His fingertips caressed the softness of her skin, leaving on his wake a path of goosebumps. Carefully he removed the piece of clothing along the shirt that was underneath, exposing her, the cold air hardening her nipples. His eyes dropped to her chest, his breath caught on his throat at the sight of her form. She took his hands on hers, guiding his touch to her breasts. He held his breath as he gently squeezed her flesh, his pupils dilated when he heard her moan for the first time.
He breathed out her name “God, ______…” in a desperate attempt to demonstrate how needy he was, how much he needed her, to feel her, and claim her as his. Her hands cupped Spencer's face, her eyes roaming over his features.
“Are we really doing this?” she asked with a soft whisper, her thumb brushing over Spencer's lips.
“I've never wanted anything as much as I want you right now.” His words were all she needed, tearing down any wall she had put up, leaving behind any fear.
_____ gently pushed him, making him lay on his back. Her hands that were on his face traveled down his chest and stomach, her fingers stopping at the buckle of his belt. Spencer's breath was heavy, his eyes fixed on her every move, and when she got to his erection, his heart almost stopped. With ease she freed him from the restraint of his tight clothes as she kneeled between his thighs. Her lips kissed his length, slowly going up to his tip. Spencer propped himself up on his elbows so he could see her, the sight of her wrapping her lips around him, taking him in on the warmth of her mouth, drove him to the brink of madness.
What _____ was doing to him was the closest he ever felt to heaven. His eyes rolled back in pleasure as the moans kept falling out his lips, uncontrollably. The way her tongue moved on the head of his cock made him tweak and shiver.
“Fuck, ______…” the way her name rolled out his tongue only fueled her to move faster, deeper. His tip pushed against the back of her throat. “Please… Oh, God. Stop, I'm gonna…” He wasn't able to finish what he was saying, his orgasm came like a wave of pleasure that violently washed over him.
He succumbed to the feeling of his release, collapsing on his mattress as he filled _____’s mouth. It took him a second to resuscitate, and when he did, he pulled her up to his lap, kissing her with passion, tasting himself on her lips. In a swift move he turned them around, hovering on top of her as she laid on his bed. Her red hair scattered all over his sheets, the view he had felt almost poetic.
“I've never seen someone as pretty as you…” His voice was a rasp caress. She looked up at him, shy after what she did to him, and he couldn't believe his eyes, maybe the universe was right and he was in the presence of an angel.
His hand on her waist traveled down to her thigh, fingertips brushing on her skin, pulling up her skirt. “Should I stop?” he whispered against her neck, his breath burning her delicate skin.
“Please, don't stop.” Her pleading tone made Spencer lose sense of space and time, all that mattered was her, on his bed, and he wanted to give her everything he had.
His finger hooked on her underwear, pulling it down and out, throwing it somewhere on his bedroom floor. He shed the remains of clothes that were still in his body, he needed to feel her against his skin. He aligned with her, looking to her eyes for permission. _____ pulled him into a hungry kiss, and he buried himself in her warmth. His movements started slowly, afraid to hurt her, to break her, if he was rough she was gonna turn into dust right in front of him, worried she wasn't even real in the first place. She was so wet for him, so welcoming that, in a heartbeat, he forgot his fears and worries.
When her gasps and moans started to grow louder, echoing on his bedroom walls, he grew more erratic, pushing her to ecstasy. Her legs trembled as she lost herself in the haze, her nails digging on his back as she came undone under him. The feeling of her wrapping on him, twitching on his cock made him reach his second orgasm, coming undone in her.
He fell on the mattress beside her, pulling her on a hug, cuddling her with an affection and tenderness he didn't know he had in him.
It took a moment until they were able to speak again, and _____ was the one breaking the silence. “What do you think now? About the way we met?” she asked, gently playing with his hand on hers.
“I think that… Maybe you were right, and this was meant to be.” That response was all she wanted. After that display of affection they both fell asleep on each other's arms, laying on the afterglow of their encounter.
When he woke up the next morning she wasn’t there anymore. The window of his room was wide open, the wind making his curtains dance in the air. As he looked outside, all he could see was a cloudy sky and a raven, standing silently on a branch of a tree outside his building. This couldn't be another trick of the universe, right? She wouldn't just leave him like everyone else does, not after sharing such an amazing night. He hugged his pillow, laying on his side as his eyes were glued to the raven on the tree, the bird looming over him like it knew his deepest secrets.
He could feel the tears building up, his eyes burning, his throat closing up. As a tear rolled down his cheek, he heard the front door opening, and a ray of sun came from the window, as if everything was once more a sick plan to mess with him. Steps echoed down the other room towards his bedroom, and the familiar silhouette stood in the doorframe.
“Good, you're awake. I went to get croissants for breakfast, do you like them?” her angelic voice was music to his ears.
“Yeah, yes.” He mumbled, half awake, but relieved she was still there, with him. _____ walked back to the kitchen, the smell of coffee flooded Spencer's senses, and a smile tugged on his lips.
He was at peace, and when he looked at the tree again, the raven flew away. That's when he understood that the universe always has a plan.
(A special thanks to Yas for this concept, and for giving me the honors of writing it, I love you my gorgeous girl 🫰🏻)
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