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ssavanessa22 · 3 years

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BMO

BMO part 2

Parring: Spencer Reid x black fem reader!

Warnings: none I think but I if I missed something pls tell me!

Spencer and and the team have a family dinner at Rossi’s, Tara has invited her younger sister, and the team soon discover that boy wonder and Dr y/n Lewis have a lot in common

"Tara I promise you I'm not gonna be late I'm only a few minutes away I'll be there soon"

"Okay y/n you better be or your going to be the one to wake all this dishes at Rossi's"

"Yeah I'm not doing that I'll be there any second now"

Tara had decided to invite me to one of Rossi's infamous dinner parties, Tara and I haven't seen each other for 9 months since hat may not seem like a lot but we are extremely close so to us it feels like life time. She had already told me about her team numerous time but tonight my anxiety was running high these are the people excluding dad and I that she considers family and I don't want to make a fool of myself. Tara told me that the dress code was fancy extremely fancy and I don't have that kind of wardrobe so I had to buy a dress before I left for D.C.

For the evening I was wearing a strapless floor length blue gown gown. I paired this dress with black Stilettos.For my hair I decided to keep it my butterfly locs in that were black and long and fell to my mid back

Spencer POV

Tara had describe her younger sister as the life of the party always outgoing funny but nothing really else she only said that her and I would definitely get along, I mean I'm not really looking to get with someone right now but it would be nice to be friends with someone the same age as me and outside of the team.

Y/N’s POV

My cab had dropped me of right outside Rossi's house and I was awe of his house, really it was a mansion it was modern but still had a touch of character. I paid my fair and hot out the cab with my off the shoulder bag I walked up the stairs a gently knocked of the door. Tara opened the door instantly calming me bringing my heart rate down. Grabbing a hold of her pulling her into a big hug.

"Hey sis ugh I missed you so much how are you how is doug?"

"Awww Y/n I missed you so much and uhhh me and doug aren't together anymore"

"Wait I'm sorry but how much did I missed you guys broke up"

"Yeah you've missed a lot but don't worry I'll will catch you up love, come in meet then team you look gorgeous by the way"

"Thank you ta-" was cut of by an eccentric women dressed in a colourful outfit squealing and taking me into a bear hug.

"Oh you must be Y/n, Tara's younger sister I'm Penelope Garcia it's so nice to meet you and you are so pretty your skin your hair! Omg your hair Tara why have you never gotten braids before?"

I was taken aback but so intrigued she seems like such a fun and outgoing person definitely someone I would love to be friends with. Replying for Tara I said.

"Oh Tara's never really been with the whole braids thing even when when we were younger she's always been more into wigs."

A women with piercing black hair and beautiful eyelashes who I can only assume was Emily standing in the foyer with the rest of the team questioned.

"Wait I'm sorry but Tara that's not your real hair?"

I turned to look and Tara who then looked back at me whilst we both turned to the only other black person in the room who I assume is Derek morgen by the description Tara gave me of her co workers. All three of us proceeded to look at each other then back at Emily after a brief moment of silence Derek and I burst into laughter. Tara interrupted our laughter, "why don't we introduce you to the rest of the team instead of revealing my hair secrets of mmh?" I walked with Tara to go meet Hotch and Rossi whilst I turned to Garcia giving me a cheeky grin and mouthing Your in big trouble.

I said hi to Hotch and Rossi thanking him for inviting me into his beautiful home I was then lead to JJ and Derek greeting them.

"Hi it's really nice to meet you guys" I waved at them and they both gave me a confused looked.

"Oh I don't shake hands to many germs it's actually safer to kiss then to shake hands with someone" they both looked at me stunned then looked to the mystery man talking to Penelope and Emily.

"Not that I don't want to shake your hand I do it's just not my thing... sorry I ramble a lot when I get nervous."

"No it's okay you just remind us of someone that's all" Derek said whilst smirking with JJ.

"Dinners ready let's all meet at the garden" Rossi announced.

I Weaved my arm through Tara's as well began walking to the garden. "So Dr.Lewis how are you finding Washington" Penelope asked me

"Oh it's really nice I'm enjoying the city right now and I'm excited to be with Tara for the next few months"

Spencer's POV

"Wait did you say Dr.Lewis"

"Yeah Spence, y/n is a Dr" JJ said

"Oh so you guys looked me up? I mean I dont mind I could have just told you guys" Y/n said giggling

"Yeah I looked you up, anyone on the teams family is my family" Garcia said matching her giggle.

"Yeah I have a phd in psychology maths and physics, and a bachelors in criminology" Y/n replied weakly.

"Oh come on y/n/n tell him then the rest come on!" Tara said encouraging her sister to speak

"And I have an IQ of 190 and an eidetic memory"

"And y/n?” Tara said encouraging her once more.

"And I can read 25,000 words per minute, but they don't want to here about this boring stuff Tara."

"We do want to hear about this what if someone was like you?" Derek said

By this point we had gotten to the garden and were sitting at the table I was visibly staring at Y/n but I didn't care she was beautiful and her brain was to, she was like me no she was smarter and I wanted so badly to get to know her. As she sat down in between Tara and I she jokingly said.

"if I meet a guy with an IQ and eidetic memory like mine, a Doctor, with a nice personality and was cute like extremely attractive I would date him in a heartbeat but those types of guys don't exist"

I don't know what came over me but I had to reply y/n was talking about me I'm her dream man and she didn't even know it. Tara only said she and I would get along but I didn't know this well she's like the denial version of me but better, her skin glowed under the fairy lights that hung around Rossi's garden making her look angelic. Her dress accentuated every curve and dip on her body her cleavage ever so slightly protruding out of her dress but her body wasn't what intrigued me it was her her mind her personality I haven't even had a conversation with her but I already want to get to know her. So I downed my glass of liquid courage turned to her and I was about to describe Derek butted in and said.

Y/N’s POV

"I think Y/n over here just describe pretty boy"

"I described who"

I turned to Tara slaking her what Derek meant but she wouldn't look in my direction.

"Uhh I think what there trying to say is that you describing me Y/n I have and IQ of 187 I also have an eidetic memory and 3 PHD's but I mean I don't know if I'm-"

"You are attractive...if that's what you were going to ask"

I didn't even know the name of the man who spoke I think it might be Spencer but i didn't care because this was the most attractive man I had ever seen in my life

—

#wattpad #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #fanfic #Spencer Reid x black reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #oc x canon #tara lewis #ari lennox #spencer walter reid #lovecore

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reidsconverse · 4 years

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matchmaker • spencer reid

Spencer X Fem!reader

Warnings: None!

Based on this request: Omg blurb where the team is having a night out and the girls and the guys are separated at the bar hanging out and all the girls are talking about who the hottest guy is and everyone says Derek and reader says she thinks spencer is hotter and everyone is kinda shocked and then Penelope tells him/tries to get them together?? (sorry its almost a month late anon)

“Oh my god, look at him go.” Garcia said, pointing at Derek who was currently in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by girls. This came as no surprise to any of you, he was known for his good looks and charming personality, both of those combined made him a catch to most girls.

“God, theres a reason he’s the most attractive guy on the team. Oh look at him move!” She squealed which made you giggle. Yeah, Miss Penelope Garcia was most definitely drunk.

“Hey,” Emily said in disagreement, she was equally as drunk which led to her having even less filter than normal, “Hotch is up there, something about how he’s always so tense just does it for me. I just wanna hold him down, loosen him up and show him who’s actually in charge, y’know.”

JJ groaned in disgust, not wanting to think of her superior in that way, “Ok Emily, time to slow down.” Her mom side coming out as she slyly replaces Emilys vodka with some water.

“What about you Y/N? Derek or Hotch... ooo what about Papa Rossi...? Garcia asked animatedly, wiggling her eyebrows and laughing at her addition of the older man who honestly, you viewed as a father.

“First of all, please never say that again. Secondly, none of them.” You said, taking a sip of your drink, now you certainly weren’t sober, but you also weren’t the drunk enough to reveal your secret crush... or so you thought.

“Oh come on,” JJ spoke up, “you’re telling me you find neither of them attractive.”

“No Jennifer, I just don’t think they’re the most attractive...” You said, a slight smile on your face.

Emily adorably scrunched up her face in confusion before it hit her. “No way... Dr Genius, really?” She didnt mean it in a bad way, you had just never outwardly expressed anything but a friendly interest in the doctor.

You felt the 3 girls stares boring into you and you caved. “Ok Ok, yes personally its Spencer. I’ve liked him since I first started but he would never be interested in me so lets not discuss it”

Penelope’s face lit up at your confession, completely ignoring your request. “Ooooo y/n, oh you have to tell him, oh you’d be so cute together.” Her voice was progressively getting louder and you didnt wanna risk anyone overhearing.

“Pen, seriously, he wouldn’t be interested, I mean he can do so much bett-“ You started, before you were cut off by Penelope.

“Dont be ridiculous, have you seen the way that boy looks at you, he’s totally into you.” She said, and before you could realise what was happening, she was calling him over.

“Penelope no what are you do-,” You began to protest but stopping when he approached the table. “Hey Spence.” You waved up at him, earning a smile in return.

“Hey! What’s up?” He asked.

“Reid, JJ was just about leave and she’s mine and Emily’s ride so I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind keeping our good friend Y/N here company” She said, slightly slurring her words and smiling as she looked back and forth between you and him. Oh my god you were gonna kill her.

“Uhh, sure yeah I have to wait for Derek anyway, I promised to drive him home.” He said, nodding towards the man in the middle of the dancefloor, clearly too drunk to be driving himself.

Penelope glanced at the other two girls, who quickly began gathering their things in order to leave. She placed a hand on Reids shoulder and smiled at him. “You, Spencer Reid, are a good friend.” She said before leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Maybe even boyfriend.”

She pulled away before you could say anything back, giggling to herself before wishing us goodbye and joining Emily and JJ by the door.

You watched them leave, as Spencer took a seat next to you, “Sooo... how’s your thesis going?” He asked, genuinely interested in your work which made you smile, Penny was right about one thing, he was a really good friend.

“Uhh its ok, research is a killer and I kinda hit a dead end but i’m getting back into it.” You replied, and he nodded. It was quiet for a second as you fiddled with your glass.

“I-“ “So-“ You both said at the same time, making you laugh nervously.

“You first.” You offered, and he nodded. He also seemed nervous about what he was gonna say which made you curious.

“I- uh, I kinda overheard your conversation earlier...” He said, and your smile instantly dropped, and you could feel your stomach churning. He knew your secret, he knew that you liked him.

“Oh my god, Spencer i’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” You said, about to begin a rambling of apologies when he quickly cuts you off.

“No! No you didn’t. I just, it was unexpected. Why would you think I wouldn’t be interested?” He asked, head tilting to the side as he looked you like a small confused puppy.

You looked down at your glass and sighed, “C’mon Spence, you’re you...” His confused silence made you elaborate, “You’re amazing Spencer, you’re kind, smart, funny and... and frankly you’re incredibly attractive. You’re way out of my league.”

You looked up when you felt his hand gently graze yours, Spencers aversion to touch was well known by everyone at the fbi, so this physical...almost intimate contact came as surprise.

“I- I’m not good at this,” He stuttered and it was your turn to be confused but luckily he continued. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love you from the first day we met and... I know that might be ridiculous to say because we havent spent much time together and love at first sight isn’t that common, actually a study showed that-“

Whilst you normally loved to listen to your favourite genius ramble on about facts and figures, right now all you wanted was to tell him you loved him too, honestly it felt like a pinch me moment and if it weren’t for the warmth of his hand against yours, you would’ve thought it was a dream.

“Spencer,” You looked up at him and smiled, gently squeezing the hand that was holding yours as reassurance... to tell him it was real, “I love you too.”

He slowly leaned in, his eyes darting from your lips to your eyes silently asking if it was ok to kiss you and you didn’t hesitate to pull him forward and do what you had been waiting forever to do, your lips moulding together perfectly as if they were built for each other.

Little did you know that Derek was filming the whole thing to send to Garcia, who no doubt would not stop talking about what a matchmaker she is, and truthfully shes a damn good one.

#3 posts in one day???#my hotchniss heart won this one sorry#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg fluff #criminal minds #my works!

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whitetrashjj · 2 years

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I. Am. In. Shambles. Brb gonna go cry until we get the next chapter and our babies happy (and with a baby)

Seriously though, what a rollercoaster this chapter was! I started tearing up when he read her the story to help her fall asleep and then pretty much through the rest of the chapter from there on. And I have so many questions! Will they talk things through before she’s done with labor? I know it takes a while till the baby actually comes so theoretically they’ll have time to talk? But will she even call him or will she think he might not want to be there because of how things are right now? And then John B or Sarah call him in and he comes flying? Or we get a “please call JJ I need him” because now Kie’s finally accepted that? And then will JJ get to hold him first (omg what if the doctor is like “do you want to hold up it son, dad”😭) And will he notice how much Bo looks like a mini him and make a cheeky comment? And then I know they set up a nursery at the Château but like, they’re going home together from the hospital, right? RIGHT? I better stop there, cause I’m spiraling, but I think you get the gist which is I love this chapter and I’m fucking excited for what’s to come!

Okay so I out off answer in your head asks straight away to avoid spoilers so let’s get into it!

I love the story thing too!! You know that story time is going to continue when Bo is born too

I won’t spoil too much but like… in what world would JJ miss this birth?? People. Come on. I’m not that cruel.

And well… if you’re picked up what I’ve been putting down the last couple of chapters you will already know the answer to the home question.

#lara answers #jiara #lara writes #*in your head

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yikestripes · 4 years

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Satisfying

@dissatisfactionbuthuman here you go !! i really ran with this request LOL

i actually have the cracking thing i was referring to- it’s called hip dysplasia but there’s also a shoulder type (i have both)

request: Omg can you please do a fic where Spence has a kink for something super common for the reader to do like stretching or something and she keeps doing it around him accidentally!?

word count: 1,566

warnings: talks of kinks? nothing really, sliiiight hints at smut.

You raised your arms high above your head, hearing a satisfying crack come from your shoulder joints. You resumed your paperwork, not knowing that you had caught Spencer’s attention. A small blush crept up to his cheeks as he turned back to his own work, trying to ignore the thoughts that were itching at the back of his mind. You rose shortly later, a resounding crack from your hip sounded as you walked past Spencer’s desk, and he swore you started doing it on purpose. You two had only been dating for about 2 months, after a long drawn out confession had taken place one night after an especially long jet ride home. There was no way you knew about one of Spencer’s most guarded secrets yet; he never told anyone about his cracking kink, and he definitely didn’t intend to scare you off so quickly by telling you now.

The only question was, did you somehow find out and now were trying to tease him with it? There was no way. He had made sure not to tell anyone else in the office and unless you were a mind reader, there was no way. He abandoned the thought for the better part of an hour before you were all called to the conference room for a briefing.

Good. Spencer thought. This will definitely take my mind away from everything- especially her. You sat by his side and let your hand come to rest on his forearm, something you would do every time you were near each other. It was a simple gesture, whether it was to remind her that Spencer was all hers, other women, or just to remind herself that he was still there, it didn’t really matter. Spencer took your hand under the table to save yourselves from a look from Hotch regarding your ability to work together, which you’d received more times than either of you would like to admit.

You looked back and smiled at Spencer, who was chewing his lip as he was clearly thinking about something that was not related to the case. You squeezed his hand gently to grab his attention, but he shook his head slightly and offered you a tightlipped smile. He was acting strange, especially for Spencer, but you shrugged it off and pretended to pay attention to the rest of the case. You could study up on the plane; first, you had to figure out what was bothering your boyfriend.

As soon as Hotch announced wheel’s up, you were already out of the conference room, sitting on Spencer’s desk with your go bag in hand.

“What’s up, Spence?” You asked, raising your eyebrows.

“N-nothing,” He said, offering you a real smile. You narrowed your eyes at his retreating back, but decided it was better not to push it.

The jet ride was completely uneventful; you, Spencer, JJ, and Emily traded theories back and forth about the latest sicko while discussing whether or not the latest kidnapped victim was dead or not. You announced your desire for coffee, standing up and going to the back of the plane; another crack from your hip rang out as you felt a small release in your back. You had joint problems that stemmed from sports and an undiagnosed disorder that affected a few if not all of your biggest joints, including your shoulders and hips. This was the cause for all of the popping and cracking every time you moved a stiffened joint.

Little did you know, you were driving Spencer absolutely wild- more so than usual, that is.

“Hey, JJ- Has (Y/N) a-always, um, cracked like that?” He asked, trying to make his desires less obvious.

“What do you mean?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Um, well, whenever she stands up after sitting for some time or moves her arm suddenly…” Spencer trailed off.

“I guess so. She told me that she has some thing in her joints that cause that, why? Does it freak you out?” She grinned.

Spencer’s eyes widened.

“U-uh,” He swallowed hard. “I mean I guess so, yeah. Is that weird?” He lowered his voice.

“Not at all! It used to absolutely DISGUST my cousin whenever i’d crack my neck or my back around her. It’s some sort of phobia I think,” Spencer breathed a sigh of relief when he realized what she was saying.

“What’s disgusting?” You asked, handing Spencer the other mug in your hand.

“Oh, we were just talking about how cracking joints disgust some people. Our dear doctor apparently isn’t too fond of it!” She said with a laugh.

“You never told me that,” You said, suddenly feeling slightly self conscious.

“Well I-I never thought about bringing it up before, I guess.” He took a long sip from the mug before excusing himself. You burned holes into the back of his head as he headed towards the bathroom.

“That was weird.” You muttered, reopening the case file.

***

“Looks like our unsub decided to dump the body in a hurry,” Spencer announced, pulling on a pair of gloves.

“Yeah, this is a pretty foot-traffic heavy area so I guess someone was coming.” You responded.

“It completely forced them to change their M.O, they didn’t have time for the rest of their usual ritual.”

Your knee cracked as you crouched down next to the body, grimacing at the sound.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, looking up at Spencer. He rubbed a gloved hand on your shoulder blade and smiled.

“No need to apologize, my love. Hey- what’s that shiny thing?” He pointed to a dangling silver necklace that was hooked on a nearby branch.

“Oh, this must have been the necklace she was wearing the morning of the kidnapping. It’s amethyst,” You placed it in a bag and handed it to one of the crime scene investigators, removing a glove to call Hotch.

The rest of the investigation had been pretty easy, the unsub had been lingering around the dumpsite for a little longer than he should have, just to get off from his crime a few more times. You stood outside of the small farmhouse, looking over the sea of flashing lights and reporters that surrounded the crime scene.

You tilted your head and earned a satisfying crack from your neck, and did the same on the other side.

“Oof,” Spencer whispered, grimacing.

“Does it really bother you that much? I didn’t realize you were standing right-” Spencer cut you off with a kiss, mid sentence.

“It doesn’t bother me at all.”

“But JJ said on the plane-” He placed his hands on your shoulders, and leaned forward so your foreheads were touching.

“I was lying, (Y/N). I don’t hate the sound of cracking, I, uh…” He trailed off and licked his lips, breaking eye contact. Your eyes widened as he looked down at the ground.

“Spencer Reid do you have a k-” Spencer’s own eyes widened as he clapped his gloveless hand over your mouth.

“Shhh!” He said as you glared.

“What?”

“I don’t want the entire state of Texas to know!” He hissed. You rolled your eyes.

“Alright alright, I won’t say anything. How long has this been going on? Since before we were dating? My joints crack literally ALL the time.” You thought back to earlier that morning, when he could barely take his eyes off of you while you were doing paperwork. You had gone back and forth to the copy machine probably 3 separate times, various joints in your legs cracking each time you stood up. Spencer swallowed and offered a small grin.

“Does it bother you?” He asked, his brown eyes gleaming.

“No! No. It’s absolutely fine. I just wish I had more control of when it happens,” You lowered your voice and cocked a single eyebrow. Spencer bit his lip when Morgan started calling out to you from across the field.

“Hey, Lovebirds, get over here! We’re leaving.” You winked at Spencer and walked in Morgan’s direction, pausing to crouch quickly, earning you a small crack. Spencer dropped his jaw and kept close behind you, causing you to giggle.

“You’re the worst.” He muttered in your ear.

“Mmmmhm,” You hummed.

You boarded the plane shortly after, sitting down in the back, and immediately taking off your shoes and curling your legs underneath you. Spencer sat next to you and pulled out a book. Very quickly into the flight, you got bored. You looked around the cabin and the majority of the team was asleep, save for Hotch, who was filling out the remaining paperwork with the help of Rossi. Spencer was still reading beside you, running his thumb across your knuckles without breaking his concentration. Suddenly, you felt the urge to crack your fingers. You grinned mischievously and took your hand back.

You started by cracking your index finger, which he either didn’t hear or actively chose to ignore. You cracked your middle finger and ring finger, which caused a blush to rise in his cheeks. You cracked the rest of your hand and got to work on the other when he finally gave you the attention you were searching for. He set his book down on the table in front of you and looked at you, and raised his eyebrows. You grinned wider and wiggled your eyebrows.

“Later, we’ll be home in 20 minutes tops.” He whispered in your ear. You saved the rest of your cracking for when you got home, because you had a ton pent up.

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homoose · 4 years

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Winning is a Habit

Hi y’all! Okay sooooooooo this is my first time writing fic??????? Like omg please be nice lmao. I don’t have a beta reader, so if you catch any mistakes pls lmk! I saw this challenge and the world is total garbage, so why not write our own realities????? Ok here goes!!!!!!!!!! Written for @veraiconcos fic challenge

Summary: The BAU gets called to investigate two high-profile murders in a college town, only to find that they are part of a much bigger, more complicated picture. No real pairings, although you could make it happen if you want lol ;) This is an idea I’ve seen floating around the fandom for a little while now, and I really wanted to see it fleshed out. Set around season 4 or 5.

Category: some angst, sort of fluff? I wouldn’t say it necessarily qualifies as an AU, but it’s outside of canon.

Warnings/Includes: some brief descriptions of violence/CM type stuff; mentions of rape (no details)

Word count: 6.1k

———

“Stillwater, Oklahoma,” JJ said, navigating the map off screen and pulling up the crime scene photos. “Two college seniors— Tyler Allen and Leon Williams, star football players for Oklahoma State University— both found dead the day before the playoff qualifier.”

“Do we know the cause of death?” Spencer asked, thumbing through the case file.

“The ME report concluded that both boys died of acute alcohol poisoning,” JJ informed them.

Emily looked up from the file. “And the locals don’t think this could just be a case of college kids having a little too much fun?”

“Before a major playoff game? I doubt it.” Derek leaned back in his chair. “Especially considering OSU’s having a record-breaking season. I’d guess the coach had players on a pretty strict lockdown.” He raised his hands and joined them in a steeple over his chest. “Showing up to a game hung-over— particularly one as important as this— would be a major conduct issue.”

“That, and there was a pretty specific message left on both victims,” JJ added, arms crossed and eyebrows lifting into her hairline.

“On them?” Rossi questioned.

JJ motioned with her hand back to the screen. Six sets of eyes moved over the photo; the words “U LOSE” scrawled in ink across the foreheads of the two men.

“Resorting to murder to win a football game?” Emily asked, eyes narrowed.

“And why use the forensic countermeasure of staged alcohol poisoning, only to backtrack and assert it as a murder?” Spencer pondered, pursing his lips.

“Whatever the reason, we’ve got two dead college students and a definite signature. Wheels up in 30,” Hotch told them, closing his case file.

⧭⧭⧭

“No sign of forced entry.” Derek walked through the entry hallway and into the living space. “Doesn’t look like there was any struggle, either.”

Rossi thumbed through the mail on the kitchen counter and peered around the small space. “Everything you’d expect in a boys’ college dorm room: dishes in the sink, generic decor, general mess. Nothing that stands out.”

“Agents, thank you so much for coming.” A tall man in a dark suit stepped across the threshold of the apartment. He stuck out his hand for Rossi to shake. “Steven Barrett, Dean of Students.”

“I’m Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi. This is SSA Derek Morgan.” Derek nodded from his place in the living room.

“I apologize for not meeting you when you arrived. We’re dealing with a grieving campus,” Barrett said, running a hand over his face. “I’m actually on my way to speak to the Board, but I wanted to check in with you before. I’m not sure I can be of much help, but I can try to answer any questions you might have.”

“These boys were seniors, but they still lived on campus. Is that typical?” Rossi asked, gesturing around the apartment.

“Uh, yes, it is for student athletes,” Barrett confirmed with a nod. “OSU teams have demanding, sometimes grueling practice schedules. Being on campus simplifies things, allows students to get to classes and practices, as well as utilize the dining halls.”

“Does this building have security cameras?” Derek raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. All of our buildings do. I’ll let Campus PD know you’ll need access to the footage.” Barrett’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He reached for it and punched the button to answer the call. “Yes. Yes, I—I’m finishing up with the FBI now. I understand. I’m on my way.” He ended the call and pocketed the phone. “I’m sorry to leave you, gentlemen. Our top priority right now is supporting our students and community through this tragedy. Part of that healing process is finding out who did this to Tyler and Leon. So anything else you need, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to let me know.” He turned on his heel and disappeared down the hall.

Derek shook his head. “I’m glad I don’t have to do that job right about now.”

Rossi gave another glance around the nondescript apartment and sighed. “Call Garcia and ask her if she’s found any other cases that could be related. And let’s hope there’s something useful on that security footage.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Based on lividity and rigor mortis, I was able to put the time of death between 8:00 and 10:00pm on Wednesday evening. The blood alcohol content for both boys was over five times the legal limit. I’ve never seen anything like it,” the medical examiner mused.

Emily looked over the bodies, her arms crossed. “Dr. Saraj, about how much would they have to drink for the level to be that high?”

“When drinking, the level of alcohol in our blood reaches a peak before it drops off after the last drink ingested,” Spencer supplied. “In a typical night of drinking, spread over the course of several hours, the average man can have 8-12 drinks without ever reaching lethal levels. But considering each victim weighed around 230 pounds, they’d have had to ingest approximately 180 ounces of beer or 18.75 ounces of liquor to reach a lethal blood alcohol content.”

Dr. Saraj glanced at Spencer before adding, “Look, this is a college town. Kids drink. But... to have had this much alcohol still detectable in their system post-mortem indicates that these boys drank at least the equivalent of a 30 rack, by themselves, in less than an hour.” She flipped up the first page of the report in her hands, eyes scanning the second. “And the toxicology screen also found trace amounts of ketamine.”

Spencer bent over the examining table and adjusted the wrist of one of the boys with a gloved hand. “Doctor, are these ligature marks?”

“Oh, yes,” Dr. Saraj agreed, nodding. “They’re relatively faint, so I almost missed them. But I found similar marks on both boys on the wrists and ankles.”

“So,” Emily said, gesturing with her hands, “the unsub doses them with ketamine to gain control, ties them up, forces them to drink lethal amounts of alcohol, and then— what?” She looked to Spencer. “Waits for them to pass out before removing the restraints and leaving the message?”

Spencer examined the marker scrawls. “Were you able to determine what the message was written with and if it was left pre- or post-mortem?”

“My guess would be it was written with some type of permanent marker, but I can’t say for sure,” Dr. Saraj said. “We’re analyzing the residue now, and I can send the report your way as soon as I have it. As for when it was written, I couldn't tell you.” She shook her head. “The one simple mercy is that these boys would have been out cold for a while before they died.”

⧭⧭⧭

“I’m so sorry. I know how difficult this is. Anything that you can tell us will be helpful in finding the person who did this,” JJ encouraged softly. “Anyone that Tyler might have had an argument with recently or who he mentioned having problems with?”

“No, no. He was—he was just your typical boy,” Mrs. Allen sniffled. “Playing football and hanging out with his friends,” she said, voice hitching. “Oh my god.” She dropped her head into her hands.

“He didn’t have time to have problems,” Mr. Allen asserted. “He spent all his free time on the field. Coach had them out there for two-a-days until classes started. He’s the quarterback. He was leading that team to the first national title since 1945.” He stood to his feet, hands clenched at his sides. “Some lunatic murdered my boy and you’re sitting around talking to us while they’re out there, walking free.”

“Sir, I promise you that we have some of the best agents in the country working on your son’s case,” JJ assured. “But in order to help them do their job, we need to know as much as we can about who Tyler was.”

Across the bullpen, Hotch sat across from Mr. and Mrs. Williams. “Leon was a good boy. Football was his life. He loved being a part of this team. It was the season of a lifetime,” Mr. Williams said.

“We taught him better than to be drinking and carrying on,” Mrs. Williams added.

“Can you think of anything or anyone he might have mentioned recently that was out of the ordinary? Anything that was bothering him or causing him distress?” Hotch questioned.

“He was feeling pressure about the season, but he’s been handling that kind of thing since he was twelve years old.” Mr. Williams shared an almost indiscernible look with his wife. “He got into—into the same kinds of trouble any college kid gets in. Nothing that could have gotten him murdered.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Yeah, baby girl, what d’ya got for me?” Derek held the phone out so that Rossi could listen in as they waited in the OSU security office.

“Well, my handsome knight, I wish I could tell you more but so far, I’m coming up empty with similar cases,” Penelope sighed. “Nothing that matches our alcohol poisoning M.O. or the signature. I just expanded the search to surrounding states, and I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

“Anything on our two victims?” Rossi asked.

“Now that’s where it gets interesting,” Penelope mused, tapping the fluffy end of her pen into the palm of her hand. “There’s nothing. Zilch, nada.”

Rossi narrowed his eyes. “And that’s interesting because...?”

“Come on, sir,” Penelope scoffed. “Two young, athletic, good-looking college football stars and there’s nothing at all? Nothing scandalous on social media. No run-ins with campus PD. Not even a write up from an RA.”

Derek tilted his head in thought. “Hotch and JJ said their conversations with the parents told a similar story.”

“Okay, but no one is this squeaky clean, particularly not at a Big 12 college. Everyone has some dirt,” Penelope insisted. “I haven’t found it yet, but there’s gotta be something out there. When I have it, you’ll know it!”

“Thanks, Garcia,” Derek drawled.

“Over and out!” Penelope jabbed the button to end the call.

The OSU officer waved them over with his hand. “I’ve got it queued up to 6:24pm. You can see the boys here,” he pointed on the screen at the two victims, “entering the north entrance of the dining hall.”

Derek leaned toward the monitor. “So they leave practice, come through the dining hall for dinner. When do they leave?”

The footage sped up on the screen, then stopped. “Here. 7:01.”

“Rossi, you seeing this?” Derek slid his eyes over.

Rossi nodded. “Is there any way to enhance these frames?”

The officer shrugged his shoulders. “Not on this system. Honestly, the camera quality isn’t great. I’ve been trying to get them to invest in an upgraded OS, but you know—budget woes. Your analyst might be able to do more.”

“It’s not going to matter.” Derek sighed and straightened up. “She’s careful of her angles.”

“I couldn’t find them on any grounds cameras, but they pop back up entering the dorm. Here, at 7:12.”

“All three of them,” Rossi noted. He looked at Derek. “And like you said, she’s discreet.”

“They all go upstairs to the apartment,” the officer continued, “but only the girl leaves. At 8:43.”

⧭⧭⧭

“We have a witness from the cafeteria that confirms that the boys ate with a dark-haired young woman in a red coat,” Hotch said, arms crossed. “But other than those two details, the witness couldn’t recall anything else and said they’d never seen her before.”

“So we’ve got the two victims entering their apartment with an unknown woman. They’re upstairs for an hour and a half before she leaves,” Emily recounted.

Derek stood with his hands on his hips. “And in that time, she manages to dose and gain control of two boys that are more than double her size and funnel a lethal amount of alcohol into them. Now the question is why?”

As the team converged around the conference room table, a uniformed officer entered into the doorway. “Agent Jareau? There’s a possible witness—says she might have some new information.”

JJ nodded to the team and moved to the doorway. A petite young woman stood in the center of the bullpen, wringing her hands. When her eyes landed on JJ, she let her arms fall to her side. As JJ approached, she motioned with her hand for the girl to sit at the closest desk. “Hi, I’m Jennifer. I heard you wanted to speak to someone about this case. Can I have your name?”

The girl nodded. “Um, I’m Cassie. I saw the announcement you made. About the woman in the red coat. I heard you say that she had brown hair. Is that true?”

JJ cocked her head slightly. “Yeah, the witness and security footage we have shows a woman with dark hair walking with Tyler and Leon. Why do you ask?”

Cassie’s eyes darted around the bullpen, and she drew her arms tightly over her chest. “I just— um—well, I—”

“Would it help if we moved somewhere a little quieter?” JJ suggested. When Cassie nodded and stood, JJ placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and directed her toward an empty interview room. Cassie sat in the chair farthest from the door, and JJ sat opposite her. “Is there something you wanted to tell me about the woman? Or is it something else that’s on your mind?”

Cassie let out a long breath. “When I heard that they were dead, I— I was relieved. That sounds awful, but it’s true.”

JJ tread lightly over her next question. “You felt relieved. Why was that?”

Cassie looked directly at JJ. “I’ve been looking over my shoulder everywhere I go for the last seven months. I won’t have to do that anymore.”

“Can you tell me more about what you mean?”

Cassie took a breath and closed her eyes for a long second, before opening them and continuing. “There was a huge party in the spring. I mean, there were, like, hundreds of people there.” Cassie’s eyes went wide. “I never go to parties like that. But it was the end of the year, and my friend—well, I went with my friend. She got invited.”

“Were Tyler and Leon at this party?” JJ asked.

“Everybody was. I mean, everybody who’s somebody at OSU was there. We saw them right away. The whole team was there, but people treated those two like kings.” Cassie looked down at her hands. “We were drinking... a lot. At some point, Laney and I got separated. I tried calling her phone a bunch of times, but the party was really loud. I—I didn’t want to leave without her, but I was getting really messed up. I had a guy friend from one of my classes walk me home.” She swiped at her eye with the back of her hand. “Laney didn’t get back until the morning. Her clothes were all torn up, her hair had... blood in it, and she—she had a bruise under her eye.” She looked up at JJ, eyes shining with tears. “They raped her. I left her behind, and they raped her,” she whispered.

JJ reached across the table for Cassie’s hand. “Cassie, I’m so sorry. What happened to Laney was not your fault, or hers. Do you understand me?” JJ paused before continuing. Cassie looked down. “Do you know if she reported it?”

Cassie nodded. “I’m the one who went with her to the infirmary. They did a kit and confirmed it. When we went to Campus PD, they did nothing. Said Laney was wasted, and there was no one that could back up her story.”

JJ squeezed her hand. “So there was no official report filed?”

Cassie laughed coldly. “Oh, they wrote a report. I think if we ask them to, they have to. But they wouldn’t name Tyler or Leon in it. Said they didn’t want to ‘give legs to any gossip.’”

JJ’s mouth stretched into a thin line. “Where’s Laney now?”

“I don’t know.” Cassie shook her head. “She didn’t come back to OSU this fall. I haven’t really talked to her since—” She looked at JJ. “I can’t get the image of her out of my head. How she looked when she came through the door that morning. What they did to her… I’m not sorry that they’re dead.” Her eyes were shining with rage. “People knew what happened… and no one did anything. And those two were still the kings of campus.”

⧭⧭⧭

The team absorbed the new information quietly. “So Garcia was right. They did have something to hide.” Derek’s phone buzzed. “Speaking of. Hey mama, you’re on speaker.”

“I hope you’re all sitting down,” Penelope warned. “I expanded the parameters of my original VICAP search to include the surrounding states. No hits on suspicious deaths by alcohol poisoning. However, the U LOSE signature? Seven hits across Texas, Arkansas, Missouri, and Kansas.”

“So our unsub’s been traveling across the South—” Emily started.

“Oh, I’m not done,” Penelope continued. “Just to double check, I expanded the search area to the continental US. Our unsub has been busy. Over 30 murders with this signature, all across the country, dating back to March 2007. All different M.O.s: gunshot, stabbing, strangulation, you name it. But all with U LOSE scrawled across their forehead in—get this—liquid eyeliner.”

“Anything tying the victims together, Garcia?” Hotch asked.

“All men, mostly white, but all across different ages, occupations, and marital statuses. At first glance, there’s no real connection,” Penelope answered.

“What about on second glance?” Hotch prompted.

“Way ahead of you, sir. I did a little digging.” Penelope shrugged. “Okay, a lot of digging—most of it legal. Every single one of these victims had at least one sexual assault allegation. Some are official police reports, some are HR complaints, some are sealed court records. But in every case, the victim’s cause of death is directly related to the details of the assault records. Women that were held at knifepoint, their attacker was stabbed to death. If they were choked, he was strangled. If they were held at gunpoint, he died of a gunshot wound. Et cetera, et cetera.” Penelope twirled her pen. “The differing M.O.s combined with the fact that the unsub kept crossing state lines kept local PDs and field offices from making the connection.”

“Garcia, can you search OSU PD records for an incident report?” JJ asked.

Garcia tapped rapidly across her keyboard. “Absolutely, sugar, when would it have been filed?”

“It would’ve been this year, sometime at the end of April or beginning of May,” JJ answered. “The victim would be named as Laney Collins.”

After a few moments, Garcia peered through her green cat-eye glasses at the report. “Mmm, I’ve got one incident report, filed on May 7th. And woof, this report is not much to go on. The responding officer wrote a whopping three sentences. According to him, Laney was incapacitated and thus was not a credible witness.” Garcia twirled her pen. “The alleged attackers, who are not named, denied Laney’s account of what happened. Because there were no other witnesses, Officer Thorough deemed that no further action was necessary.” She jabbed her pen in the direction of the screen. “And this, my friends, is why women don’t bother reporting.”

“Good work, Garcia,” said Hotch.

“There’s one more interesting detail from the report,” Garcia continued. “The dean of students signed off on it.”

“So Barrett knew about this the whole time,” Derek fumed.

“And again, people wonder why women don’t report,” Garcia repeated, ending the call.

“So our unsub is seeking justice for women she believes have been failed by the system. We’re looking for a vigilante, carrying out revenge killings,” Rossi concluded.

Derek nodded. “And she’s organized and efficient; she finished with Tyler and Leon in less than two hours.”

“She’s smart and she blends in, doesn’t draw too much attention to herself,” JJ added.

“She’s meticulous and has at least some knowledge of forensic countermeasures, considering there’s no physical evidence tying her to any of the scenes,” Spencer remarked.

“And she knew enough to keep her face off the security footage,” Emily finished.

“Rossi, Emily, and I will stay here and deliver the profile,” Hotch directed. “JJ, I’d like you to speak to the families again, see if they knew about the rape. Reid, Morgan, talk to Barrett and see what else he might be trying to keep quiet.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Makes you wonder just how many people knew what happened,” Derek considered, closing the car door.

“It’s estimated that twenty percent of student victims of sexual assault report it to their university, but less than one percent of assailants receive any type of disciplinary action,” Spencer cited, making his way toward the sidewalk.

Derek shook his head. “And so the victims don’t see the point in reporting it. Your attacker gets to walk around like nothing even happened. Cassie told JJ that she felt like she had a target on her back once they reported Laney’s assault.”

As they walked up the blacktop driveway to the entrance of Barrett’s home, Spencer slowed his steps as he noticed the front door. “Morgan.” He nodded at the door, slightly ajar.

Derek drew his gun and moved ahead of Spencer. He pushed the door slowly open and called out, “Mr. Barrett?” In the foyer were the remnants of a broken vase and a small trail of blood. “Call Hotch, let him know we’ve got trouble here.”

Derek and Spencer worked to quietly clear the rooms, one by one. Derek stopped at the bottom of the stairs and motioned to Spencer. As they started up the stairs, a woman’s voice called out, “Shut up! You had nothing to say before. So now, you’re just going to listen.”

Derek reached the top of the stairs and started down the hallway. He reached the open door where a woman stood, her back to the door. Behind her, Derek could see Barrett, sitting on the floor, blood dripping from a gash on his head. His hands were raised in front of his chest, palms facing out. Derek stopped, his gun trained on the woman, and murmured, “Laney?”

The woman pivoted her body, her short blonde hair whipping around. Derek saw tears in her eyes and a revolver in her hand. “Don’t,” she warned.

“Laney, my name is Derek. I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to talk. I need you to put the gun down.”

“No!” Laney screamed. “You don’t know what he’s done.” She shook the gun in Barrett’s direction, and Barrett closed his eyes.

Derek spoke softly. “I do, Laney. I do know. I know what happened to you. I know that he kept Tyler and Leon’s names off the report. I know that he didn’t help you when you needed it most. I know that he let them get away with--”

“Rape. He let them get away with rape. Because he cares more about reputation and football than what happens to women on his campus. They ruined my life.” Laney turned away from Derek and put both hands on the gun. “They ruined my life, and you did nothing. And then they walked around campus like they were invincible, because you taught them they were.”

Derek moved further into the room, into Laney’s eyesight. Spencer moved into the doorway, covering Derek. “Laney, look at me. I’m putting my gun away.” Derek held his hands up and then moved to holster his gun. “Doing this won’t make the pain go away.”

“How many others? How many other women did he do this to?” Laney let out a painful sob. “If I don’t stop him, it never ends.”

“Listen to me.” Derek took a step closer to her. “Killing him won’t change what happened, Laney. It won’t. Believe me. I know how you feel.”

“People love to say that when they’re trying to shut you up. How could you possibly know how I feel?” Laney spit out.

“Someone hurt me, just like they hurt you. And nobody was there to help me. No one was there to listen.” Laney froze, eyes shifting to meet Derek’s. “I wanted to hurt him, Laney. Wanted to make him feel the same pain I felt. I wanted him to suffer.” He moved another step closer. “I know that those men hurt you, and I know that he let them get away with it. And I am so, so sorry. But you’re stronger than anyone knows, Laney. You are the only person who has the power to help others who didn’t get justice. I have a friend who’s spent her whole life helping survivors, and I know she’d love to talk with you.” He took another step. “You are the only person who can stop it from happening to someone else. You can make sure he’s held accountable for what he’s done. But if you pull that trigger, you can never go back,” Derek warned.

Laney looked at Derek, his hand outstretched, wordlessly asking her to give him the gun. She looked at Barrett, crying and silently begging her to show him the mercy she never got. “I wish I’d been the one to kill them,” she whispered.

The gun dropped out of her hand as Derek stepped forward to catch her. He kicked the gun into the doorway, and Spencer recovered it. “I’ve got you,” Derek said, helping Laney out of the room. “Shh, it’s ok, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Spencer moved to lift Barrett off the ground and helped him into a chair by the window. Out of the corner of his eye, Spencer caught a flash of red below the window. He stumbled over Barrett, nose almost pressed to the glass as he stared out. The woman froze, eyes locked on Spencer’s. His mouth opened slightly as he stared at her, bewildered. By the time his brain caught up, she had already disappeared from view.

Spencer turned and raced down the stairs, clinging to the railing as he nearly missed a step. He burst out the front door into the driveway, sprinting around the side of the house. He heard Derek call his name, saw the other SUVs pulling up, but he kept running. He skidded to a stop at the edge of the backyard, and then spun in a full circle, eyes frantically scanning the perimeter.

Hotch approached from the side of the house, gun drawn. “Reid! Are you all right?”

Spencer took a last look, scanned from east to west. “Yeah, yeah. I just—I thought I saw—I thought I saw something.” He shook his head. “Barrett’s inside. He’s got a head laceration, but he’ll be fine.”

Hotch lowered his gun and nodded. “And Laney’s not our unsub. So we’re back to the beginning.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Strauss is asking us to head back to Quantico.” Hotch pocketed his phone and looked at the team. “We’ll move the cases to our watch list and flag the signature for hits in VICAP. From what we know about the unsub’s behavior, we know she’s no longer in the area.” He gestured to the evidence board. “Our best course of action is to keep the profile in our periphery for now. We can do that from the BAU. It’s late. Go to the hotel, get some rest. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

“I’m absolutely starving.” Emily slipped into her jacket and headed for the door. “Anybody want to hit up that 24 hour diner?”

Derek and JJ quickly agreed, following Emily from the conference room. JJ turned back, eyeing Spencer. “You coming, Spence?”

“I’m just really tired.” His voice lilted up, almost a question. “Next time, though.”

JJ gave him a look but didn’t press him. “Have a good night, Spence.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He gathered up the case files, not quite ready to put them away.

⧭⧭⧭

Spencer’s eyelids felt heavy as he walked through the lobby of the hotel. He really was tired. He blamed the exhaustion for what he thought he saw through the window at Barrett’s. His fatigued mind was seeing things that weren’t there. He practically floated into the elevator and up to his room. Sliding the room key through the slot, the door beeped open and Spencer stepped inside. He flicked on the light and dropped his bag on the floor, loosening his tie as he walked toward one of the sling back chairs sat by the window. He paused just before he reached the chair, his gaze lingering over something on the desk. A note hastily scrawled on hotel stationary.

623.

Spencer lifted the note with two careful fingers. “623?” He turned it over, looking for the rest of the message, but the paper was blank other than the number. He lowered the note, and his eyes landed on a small plastic card where the paper had rested on the table. Not just a card. A room key.

⧭⧭⧭

Spencer stared at the door of the room. Room 623. He turned his head and slowly looked up and then down the hallway. He took a breath and raised his hand to the door. He knocked in the familiar rhythm: five knocks, pause, two knocks. He pressed his ear close to the door, listening for any movement inside. When he heard nothing, he knocked again; the same pattern, but a little louder. He listened again. Nothing. Spencer felt a bead of sweat creep down the nape of his neck. He thought about turning around, about walking back down the two flights of stairs to his room and getting into bed.

Instead, he pulled the keycard from his pocket. As he lifted the card with one hand, he used his other to raise the strap on his holster. He held his breath as he swiped the card through the slot and heard the beep of the lock. Drawing his gun from the holster, Spencer slowly turned the handle of the door.

The room was mostly dark. Only the yellow glow of one of the bedside lamps illuminated the space. Spencer stepped into the room and quietly closed the door behind him. Again, his mind said to turn around. Yet his feet carried him further into the room. He could see now that the sling backs were facing toward the window. There were two glasses from the mini bar on the table between them.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” a familiar voice mused.

Spencer startled and then swallowed audibly, a cartoon character realizing he’s in serious trouble. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

“You can put the gun away,” she continued. “Really. Come sit down, Reid.”

Hearing her say his name sucked all the air out of his lungs. He closed the remaining distance between them, staring dumbly at her perched in the armchair. She gave him a small smile, warm despite the nervous energy in the air. “Hey, Reid.”

“Elle.” Spencer sunk into the chair across from her. “I—I thought I was seeing things. Earlier. At Barrett’s.”

She studied him quietly. “This hair is a good look for you.”

“Thanks,” Spencer blushed, smoothing down the hair at the nape of his neck. He quickly dropped his hand. “It was you then.”

“What was me?” Elle asked innocuously.

“You were at Steven Barrett’s house today. In the yard.” Spencer folded his hands to keep from wringing them. “You were wearing a red coat.”

Elle lifted one of the glasses to her lips, taking a sip of the clear liquor, ice cubes rattling. She swallowed and gestured to the other glass. “Have a drink.”

“I, um, I don’t drink anymore.” Elle raised an eyebrow. “A lot has happened since… the last time I saw you.” Spencer smoothed his hands down the tops of his thighs. “You were there today. Elle, did you—are you…” He wasn’t even sure what question to ask.

Elle ran her fingertip around the rim of her glass. She was quiet for a long time. Spencer fidgeted in his seat, but stayed quiet, waiting. Elle set the glass down.

“Do you remember that night in Dayton? In the hotel room?” Spencer looked at her pointedly. Elle let out a laugh. “Sorry, I forgot who I’m talking to; of course you remember.” Their eyes met. Spencer felt she was looking right through him. “You told me that I’d won. That because Garner was dead, and I was alive, I won.”

“Elle—” Spencer started.

“You asked, Reid. This is my answer.” She screwed the cap off the bottle of gin. Pouring the remainder of the bottle into her glass, she continued, “It took time, but I started to feel safe in my own home again. I could close my eyes without seeing his face. I could take a shower without bringing my gun.” She downed the rest of her glass. “When I killed Lee, I gave that same freedom back to the women he’d raped. They could exist in the world knowing that he would never hurt them, ever again.” She smiled ruefully. “And it felt… good. It felt right. And after years of having watched people be destroyed by monsters… I don’t know. It was just something I had to do. To bring that freedom and that safety back to other women who had been hurt and broken and alone. To destroy their monsters.” Elle looked at him then, eyes shining with unshed tears. “I don’t expect you to understand or approve. But the answer to your question is yes.”

Spencer took a breath and asked, “Why’d you put the key in my room? You could have just… disappeared.”

Elle shook her head. “I chose this. I knew what I was doing and what it would mean. Most of the time, I’m fine, great even. Because being able to give these women justice is the greatest gift. But with this work, you can’t really keep anybody close. No holidays or birthdays. No dates or girls nights.” She shrugged. “I guess I just wanted to see what would happen. What the boy genius would do.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Spencer admitted.

“Well, that’s a first.” Elle smiled, but Spencer could see apprehension in the rigidness of her shoulders, in the slight bouncing of her leg.

“I should probably arrest you,” he considered.

Her leg stopped. “You probably should.”

Spencer looked down at his hands. He ran his fingers up to the crook of his elbow, ghosting over the scars there. His mind raced from memory to memory: Elle on the train car; Tobias Hankle standing over him; Elle in the hospital bed; the needle in his arm; Elle in the hotel in Dayton; the click of an empty chamber.

“Elle, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for telling you that you’d won.” She was motionless, staring at him. He continued, “I didn’t know. I didn’t know what it was like. To be consumed and overcome by a memory.” Now it was Spencer’s eyes that shone with tears. “I didn’t know that the trauma could… fester in your brain like an infection that you can’t get rid of. I don’t know if winning is even possible after something like that.” He rubbed his hand under his eye and cleared his throat. “It was an awful thing to say. And I’m sorry.”

Elle tipped her head back, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. “All’s forgiven.”

Spencer reached out and gently grabbed Elle’s hand. “I’ve been so tired recently. I thought I saw something through the window at Steven Barrett’s house. But when I did a perimeter check, I didn’t find anything.” Elle dropped her head back down and turned to look at him. “We’re headed back to Quantico in the morning. We’ll, um, be keeping tabs on VICAP hits on the signature.” Spencer gave her hand one soft squeeze before standing. He let a small, bittersweet smile move over his face.

He made it to the door before he heard her voice again.

“If I asked you to stay, would you say yes?”

Spencer swiveled back to look at her, the door just barely open. Elle’s arms were crossed over her chest. Her eyes were dark and wide and full of storms. “Just for a little while longer?”

Spencer turned and moved his eyes up the length of the doorway, considering. He heard Elle let out a breath. His own breath stuttered. He closed the door softly. He put his hands in his pockets and turned back to her. “I’ve got a little while.”

#vicficwriterchallenge #criminal minds #tw rape #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #david rossi #derek morgan #spencer reid #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #elle greenaway #homoose writes

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makebank · 4 years

Text

silver lining

Request: “it's a day on set and you haven't been feeling good you pass out mid filming, and it turns out to be serious”

Warnings: nothing really, but mentions of surgery and emergency rooms

Rudy Pankow x reader

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: i know i said i wouldn’t do the actor but i changed my mind bc this seemed innocent enough. not sure if i’ll do more, as i prefer the characters. but i figured i’d at least try once. if this bothers you i’m sorry. also not even a blurb lol, i can’t make them short unless they’re phrase prompts omg

You woke up this morning feeling like you had been hit by a truck. All last night you tossed and turned alternating between sweating and shivering. When your alarm sounds, you roll to the side to turn it off and are hit with a wave of nausea. Instantly, you rush out of bed and barrel towards the bathroom. You thought you were going to be sick, but thankfully nothing came up.

You sigh taking in your disheveled and damp appearance. Lifting up your shirt, you inspect your right lower stomach expecting to find a bruise. Oddly, there was nothing there but you felt a dull ache taking over the area. You were curious about why you suddenly felt so horrible, but knew you had to get to work. Turning on your shower, you steamed up the room and stepped in. You were hopeful that a nice, scorching shower would be enough.

In the shower you contemplate how important it is for you to be okay. You finally landed an acting role and didn’t want to mess it up. It wasn’t the largest part, but you were in the second half of the TV series season quite a bit. This spring you had auditioned for a love interest on Outer Banks and shrieked when you got it. Your character was supposed to start slowly falling in love with the character JJ Maybank, while he secluded himself off from his friends. He goes through a tragedy of dealing with John B. being gone and feels left out by his best friends dating. So, he meets you while surfing alone and they continue to meet up often. Anyways, you were among so many great actors that you felt insecure at times. And the last thing you needed was to be calling in sick and halting filming.

Besides, you had a huge crush on the actor who played JJ. You never did anything about it though. During filming it was professional and after you would smile and joke with the lively blond. It was hard not to like him. He was full of so much life, was intelligent, kind, and could have any room rolling with laughter. He was always so sweet and respectful towards you but that was it. You two had spent hours together rehearsing and filming. You were growing closer, but it didn’t seem that he wanted it to move any further. It wasn’t like him and his co-stars who were already all friends from the first season and had a visibly strong bond.

Pulling yourself from your thoughts as your long shower grew cold, you shut off the water and start to dry off. You would just have to fake it for the day. There was no way you weren’t going.

Arriving at set, your stomach pain only worsened. Instead now, it was sharper rather than dull. You head into your trailer and pop a couple painkillers before splashing water on your face and making your way to hair and makeup. Walking in you see the one person you got most excited to see, Rudy.

“Hey y/n.” he greets with his usual bright smile.

“Hi Rudy, what’s up?” you try to match his tone. “Oh, you know, just getting my flowing locks perfected” he jokes while the hairstylist sprays the hairspray to hold his flawless gold waves in place. You chuckle in response but try not to wince at the pain it causes. But to no avail, your face gives it away.

He frowns at your obvious discomfort. “Are you okay?” You beam at his genuine concern. “Sorta. I just have this weird stomach pain. But I’m fine!” you rush to reassure. He raises his eyebrow at you like he doesn’t believe you. “If you’re sure, just take care of yourself first please.” You actually fully smile this time, “Thanks, I will” you slightly lie.

He rises from his chair with his hair finished. “See you on set, lover” he gives you a two-finger salute as he heads to film scenes with the other cast members. You feel your neck heat up at the nickname. You knew it was only because you played his love interest, but you couldn’t help but feel flustered every time he did it.

After sitting through hair and makeup, you head to set overhearing a scene being filmed. It’s Rudy yelling at JD about something to do with his character JJ being distant and it being none of their business. You take in the sight of him now in different clothes. He’s wearing that cutoff you love that shows off every inch of his defined arms. They’re bulging even more, because he tenses with anger. His fingers covered in rings as they run through his hair. You admire Rudy’s acting and his seemingly effortless portrayal of JJ.

Suddenly, while waiting another wave of sharp pain hits you. You curl up in your chair and whimper. No one notices because they are too entranced with the scene. Taking a couple deep breaths, you try to distract the pain away. It didn’t alleviate it at all. Shortly after, they’re done filming and Rudy is walking towards your chair next to his. Bounding with a sense of pride in his work, he innocently smiles towards you. Once he’s close enough to see your expression, his demeanor falls.

“Y/n you don’t look too good. You sure you should be filming today? We can take you to the doctor.” he offers becoming increasingly concerned. You quickly shake your head no. “I’m okay. C’mon let’s go” you try to get him to drop it. He looks unsure but ultimately follows you to the towel on the sand to start your scene.

The director starts to give you both some instructions that you can hardly pay attention to. He yells “action”. The scene starts off well, Rudy is acting perfectly as always, and you deliver a few lines without issue.

Without warning, your stomach wrenches in agony. You start wincing and your eyes tear up. You curl your body up and start groaning. The camera men stop filming, and everyone rushes towards you. Rudy is the first to try to help. He places his hand on your arm to try to see if you’re okay.

“Y/N! What’s happening? What do you need me to do?” he’s frantic and rushing his words. You only cry in response until you muster the energy to speak. “I don’t know, it just hurts so much” you whimper. Immediately, Rudy is scooping you into his arms and hauling you to a vehicle. You hear everyone panicking in the background but can only focus on the soreness.

Rudy rushes you to the emergency room where people surround you and start performing a series of tests. Soon you’re being sped to surgery. You’re told you have appendicitis and need emergency removal. It all happens, so fast your family isn’t able to get there before it starts. They live all the way on the west coast, so sadly they won’t make it until way after.

You wake up from being put under on anesthesia in a hospital room. You slowly blink open your eyes to find an unexpected visitor. It’s Rudy nervously biting his nails and bouncing his leg in front of your bed. When he realizes you’re awake, you can see with weight being lifted off him

“Y/N! You’re awake! I’ve been so worried about you.” he looks so stressed and miserable. “I’m sorry.” you croak. He looks taken aback, “What? You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m just glad I forced you here when I did. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit” you tease and you both erupt into giggles. He grabs your hand and rubs his thumb softly on your fingers. “I’m really glad you’re okay.” “Me too. Thank you for everything you did and for waiting for me.” He stands up and places a gentle kiss on your cheek. “Are you kidding? There’s no way I was leaving you. I’ll go get the others, they’ll want to know you’re awake. Your family is about an hour out by the way.”

You sink further into your hospital bed feeling the butterflies taking over. You’re still slightly sore from surgery, but his lips and the pain medication make you feel on cloud nine. You weren’t sure if Rudy felt this way before and the emergency brought it out or if he’s just being kind, but you were loving every second of it.

A few days later you get to return home, but on bed rest for the next two weeks. Rudy spends every minute he can in bed with you watching movies and cooking for you both. He has to continue filming, but he reassures you that in a few short weeks you’ll get to pick up and finish the last few episodes you have with him.

You weren’t excited about having your appendix removed, but it did bring the boy you cared for full force into your life. He was your best friend. And now eagerly becoming more.

i didn’t add my everything tag list bc i dont normally write for actors and didn’t want to tag you guys for this just in case.

#rudy pankow #rudy pankow fic #des writing #obx #obx fic #outerbanks fic #obx cast #outer banks #outerbanks netflix #jj maybank #obx netflix

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jessefandomunited · 4 years

Text

Secrets

Spencer Reid X Reader

You and Spencer were nervous about getting into a relationship so you decide to hide it from the team.

Me and Spencer had been dating in secret for a while now and we liked it that way. We knew how much everyone would tease us if they knew so we kept quiet. We were also both very nervous about getting things right so we wanted this relationship to be as straight forward , fun and painless as possible. We wanted to be friends first and lovers second and it had been a blast. I think the sneaking around made it a bit more exciting too. I would always smile a bit when someone commented on how happy Reid had been lately. We had always been close at work so our casual debates on the best companion in doctor who and me leaving him random riddles on his desk flew below everyone's radar. None were the wiser, till one day.

“ OMG GUESS WHAT,” Garcia whispered in excitement as I entered into our tech cave. I set my coffee down and asked, “ what what is it?” “ Spencer has a girlfriend,” She almost squealed. My stomach dropped and I stuttered, “ o..oh?” “ YES, so he told Derek he was too busy to go out to dinner with us, well you didn’t know you had probably fallen asleep by the time you got my text if you wanted to go, but while we were there, we saw him in a restaurant with another girl. He was wearing this almost Victorian looking outfit, I've never seen him wear it before and he met this girl who had this long black hair all put up in a bun and this fancy looking dress.” I shook my head trying to look surprised, “ wow I...i never thought this day would come.” I blushed a bit thinking about that night. We liked planning themed nights, for this one I suggested Sherlock as the theme knowing how much he loved the books and I loved the show. Of course I suggested we dressed as Sherlock and Irene Adler. “ You know,” Garcia said cutting into my thoughts, “ I always thought you two would be cute together.” I smiled, “ ehhh we’re buddies, I don’t mind.” “ OMGGGGG I just want to know who she is,” Garcia huffed, “ is she nice is she cool does she make him happy, is she cute?” I chuckled ,” well he has seemed to be in a nicer mood that normal.” “ I know but… oh hello Doctor,” Garcia said making me almost fall out of my chair . Spencer stood there looking a bit nervous and blushing, he looked a me and gently tilted his head out the door, “ a moment .” I nodded and whispered to Garcia as I left, “ ill see if I can get anything out of him.” She gave me a sly smile and a thumbs up.

“ We’ve been compromised,” He said when we were out of earshot. I made a big show of straightening my collar in mock superiority ,” excuse me YOU’VE been compromised, Garcia only noticed you .” His eyes narrowed trying to look angry but I saw a slight smile at his lips, “ oh okay you think that you’re more stealthy than me.” “ No! I know I am, I’m the master of disguise,” I said seriously before bursting out laughing, “ we should lay low tonight, The Good the Bad and the Ugly , my house tonight bring your guns.” I whipped my fingers out of my pockets and fake fired them. He blushed , “ alright.” We quickly hugged and I walked back to the room.

I was setting everything out for movie night when I heard a quick three knocks on my door. I jogged over and opened it to Reid with a bottle of wine and his overnight bag. “ That better have PJ’s in it because I can’t be the only one in them,” I spun around to reveal my doctor who shirt that I stole from him and my plaid pj shorts. “ Don’t worry I did,” He reassured kissing my forehead, “you know I believe I've seen that shirt somewhere before.” I smirked mischievously, “ I cant help what my hand finds when i’m packing my things.” He shook his head fondly and said, “ did you make popcorn?” “ OBVIOUSLY,” I said running into the kitchen to get the popcorn and a couple of wine glasses. I set them on the table as Reid went into my room to change, he was so shy , My phone rang and I picked it up, “ hello.” “ Hey so I have an update on Reid’s mystery girl,” Garcia rambled . “Oh have you,” I said looking out on of my windows. “ YES, so at the restaurant that Reid went to I asked for any reservations for that specific time and I cross checked all the names but one stuck out the name was Irene Adler, can you believe it, they’re using code names, i’m getting so close I can feel it in my bones,” Garcia sighed. I noticed Reid had emerged in a black shirt , Tardis pj pants and his glasses, I put a finger to my lips and smiled knowingly, “ code names wow she must be one smart cookie.” Spencer rolled his eyes and I playfully punched him in the shoulder. “ Yes, i’ll let you know when I get more ,” She said thoughtfully. “ Alright great because I have a bottle of wine with my name on it,” I chuckled. “ Ohhh can I come over,” She begged. My eyes went wide and I bit my lip before saying, “ listen Penelope, you know I love you but remember what I told you about me needing alone time, I don’t get energy from people like you do and these cases have really been wearing me out, but maybe on the weekend okay?” She sighed loudly, “ fine FINE go enjoy yourself, I will do more digging.” I laughed, “ thank you , see you tomorrow, love you.” “ Yeah yeah,” she said then hung up. “ When did you become so masterful at lying,” Spencer asked as I hopped onto the couch next to him. “ Years of pretending my mom said no when I got invited to parties,” I said with a smile, “ now, do you want to know how cleaver she thinks Dr Reid’s new girlfriend is.” “ Oh I already know,” He said pulling me into a hug, “ I know how cleaver and beautiful and cute she is.” He always did this to make me all flustered. I pressed my face into his shirt so I didn’t have to look at him,” no fair, that’s cheating.” “ I am just stating facts it is my favorite thing to do, now are we going to watch the movie,” he asked . “ Obviously,” I said gently sitting myself up so I could grab the remote and hit play then I snuggled back into his arms.

When we started dating he was so nervous, he always was scared of doing the wrong thing, he apologized a lot. Luckily for him I was just as nervous and now look at us! Pros who talk during the entire movie either about random facts or making stupid jokes and have competitions on who can throw more popcorn in their mouth.

We stayed up later than we should have last night, it could have been the wine, it could have been me refusing to let Spencer win against me, but either way we were both at the coffee maker at work. “ Wohh, long night,” Derek asked me. Spencer seemed to naturally look tired all the time so I guess it was more obvious with me. I shrugged, “ I thought wine on a Wednesday was a good idea.” Derek laughed, “ no it is not, so Reid, any update on that girl of yours , when are we going to meet her?” “ Yeah come on,” I chimed in just to see him get a little flustered. He blushed ,grabbed his coffee then just walked out. I shrugged, “ oh well we tried.” Derek sighed, “ I thought you guys were close , you haven't heard anything.” I rolled my eyes, “ you know Spencer, he is a pretty tightly closed book.” He nodded and waved as I walked back to the tech corner. Garcia was typing a bit intensely on her computer. “ Good morning,” I said carefully. She didn’t turn around she simply said, “ I have an update on the mystery girl, it’s in a file on your desk.” I looked over and sure enough there was a case file that said “ Reid’s girlfriend” . I opened up to see my face, I bit my lip, “ how?” “ How, how,” She huffed, “ I decided to track Reid’s phone which is know isn’t necessarily fair but I was curious, and you know what it led to , your apartment complex. So I did some investigating and went to your apartment and I hear two voices in your living room and one sounded oddly like one Doctor Reid.” I sighed, “ we just wanted to make sure it was real before we said anything and Reid didn’t want to be teased by Derek.” “ Well,” She asked. I blushed a little and looked down, “ three months.” “WHAT, HOW how , I don’t understand how you have been keeping this from me for so long,” She gasped, “ I’m enraged you just lied to me!” “ Please it wasn’t anything personal we just didn’t want the extra pressure it’s kind of both of our first real relationship,” I mumbled. “ Noooooo really,” She said shocked. “ Penelope I was in MARCHING BAND in highschool, no one was lining up to date me,” I laughed, “ and in college I was more focused on getting out of college.” She nodded, “ fine….does he make you happy? Is he different outside work?” I smiled, “ I can only give away so many secrets in one day, but yes he makes me very happy hes smart and incredibly handsome, what is there more to ask for.” “ Awww i’m so happy for you two, but mad you hid it, but so happy,” She sighed then hugged me tightly, “ When can I tell everyone.” I rubbed my neck, “ not yet, please.” I knew that wouldn’t last but I wanted to give it a go. “ My lips are so sealed,” Penelope promised. I gave her a side glance then went back to my computer. I texted Spencer, “we have 12 hours of secrecy left Penelope tracked you last night.” “Are you nervous,” he replied. “ A little but , actually meet me in the hall 2 minuets,” I said, I couldn’t text this out.

I leaned on the wall tapping my fingers nervously. “ What is it ,” Spencer asked looking a bit worried. I smiled , “ Spencer I love you, from the moment I joined the BAU, from the moment we became friends, I loved you.” His eyes welled up with tears and his face was bright red , “ I, love you too.” He leaned over and kissed me I wrapped my arms around his neck and then we heard a light cough. We quickly separated and saw Penelope looking sheepish with Hotch, Rossi, Derek , Emily, and JJ all gathered around we were going to say something but they all just smiled, “ congratulations.” We let out a sigh of relief, guess the secrets out.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds

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something-fanfiction-ie · 5 years

Text

Rough Drafts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Explicit descriptions of a murder scene, argument, angst, and cursing.

A/N: Okay, so I know I said I was gonna publish this yesterday but I got Cassandra Clare’s newest book and I couldn’t put it down. I seriously love that lady. Omg. Anyways, it’s here now! And it’s angsty! And there’s gonna be a fourth part soon I promise! For real. Don’t forget to reblog, comment, send me an ask or a message and overall just adore me so that I may continue to feel good about myself. As always thank you for supporting me and I hope you enjoy!!!

[ Part One | Part Two ]

___

An incredulous laugh bursts from your lips, your nails cutting crescent moons into the palms of your hands as you try and convince yourself that this isn’t actually happening.

“Do you have alibis for your whereabouts on Monday, June eighth, Saturday, June thirteenth, and Thursday, June eighteenth?” Spencer can see your leg bouncing rapidly under the table, your eyes flying over the pictures and the expression of Emily Prentiss. You seem genuine, but he can’t trust himself to get an accurate read of you anymore.

“I, uhm, I- I wouldn’t know off the top of my head. I keep a planner, I’ll forget things otherwise.” The burst of iron in your mouth is not something you’re unused to, having chewed your cheek so badly that the skin there has broken under your teeth.

“We’ll need to see that.” Emily isn’t sure whether or not she believes that you’re guilty, watching the way you seem to unravel before her. When you look at the crime scene photos, it isn't with any pleasure, but with disgust. Your nose wrinkles a little at the bridge and you keep looking away as the blood from your face starts to drain.

Either you’re a really good actress or you aren’t the unsub.

Emily says as much as she flips through the small teal planner that you’d willingly given them. Due dates for chapters, publishing events, book signings and days for book tours fill most of the pages in your most neat handwriting. Dates you plan to go visit your mother, grocery shop, doctor’s appointments, even plans to go somewhere and write.

Everything is explicitly stated, that way you’re never unsure of what you meant to tell yourself. That is, until around three weeks ago when a handful of days are notated with an ‘S,’ followed by a random doodle. Sometimes it’s a tiny heart drawn absentmindedly while you discuss the plans over the phone, other times it’s a cartoon bunny or a top hat.

Garcia is the first to take notice of it, her fingers faltering in their constant thrum against the keyboard in front of her. She glances out of the side of her glasses, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

“Looks like lonely girl found herself a boo.”

“That makes sense,” JJ says from the chair she’s pulled into Penelope’s office from the bullpen. A pen is stretched between her hands, her posture relaxed into the curve of the stiff, government-issued rolly chair.

All the girls have gathered into the tech analyst’s room while the men take turns interrogating you. Well, all except Spencer. He just stands behind that window watching your every move with eyes like a hawk. “What doesn’t make sense is why she keeps it secret even in her personal planner.”

“Maybe she has a stalker? That could be who is doing all this?”

“Then she wouldn’t keep careful notation of everything else going on in her life. A stalker would follow her every move, not just her romantic interests. Even if he is in love with her.”

“A partner, maybe? Like the days they planned the murders or days they were acted out?”

“None of the days line up with the crimes, save for this one,” Emily leans the book toward the two women with her finger just underneath June fifth, the day Alison Crane was abducted from outside her campus dorm room. It’s the third ‘S’ scribbled into the corner of a day in the entire book.

“And there is nothing else written in relation to this ‘S’ character?” JJ shakes her head, looking for any clues that could be nestled among the loops and curls of your writing. Reid would be better at this, he was the graphology expert among them. So why wasn’t he back here helping?

“Then I guess we better try and get her to talk about it. Meanwhile Garcia, we’ll get Rossi and Reid to head over to her apartment and you can hack into her computer?” Penelope spins the chair, a flash of bright colors and blond hair. She clicks her tongue in response, throwing up a fingers gun and winking.

“Whatever you need me to do, I’m on it like sexy on Derek Morgan stepping out of the shower in a towel.”

After some arguing, and maybe just a little bit of pleading, they manage to convince Reid to join Rossi on a trip to your apartment. He can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable, standing in your living room. Not because he’d been here before, but because he’d never been here before.

The empty mugs that litter every surface, smelling of old coffee and your favorite coffee creamer (he only knows it’s your favorite because you explicitly ask for that creamer at every coffee shop the two of you have ever gone to), is unfamiliar to him. He’s invited you to his apartment at least three times. How come he had never been to yours?

Small pages and notebooks of scribbled ideas and dialogues cover just as many areas as the coffee cups do, your handwriting messy and cramped in every note. It’s almost like you couldn’t get the idea out of your head fast enough.

The bed in your room is meticulously made without a wrinkle in sight, but that could be because of the obvious bed you’ve made yourself along the salmon pink couch that stretches out in front of your TV. A multicolored crochet blanket is thrown haphazardly over the back, a pillow still slightly squished against the arm.

On the coffee table is a half opened laptop, a notebook with red and black ink scribbled in the lines, and a still full cup of coffee. Rossi makes quick work of calling Garcia and helping her get patched into your computer. It’s strange, watching her move the mouse on your screen from miles away.

Reid never stops moving, walking the length of your studio apartment with his eyes peeled for any kind of information he could find. It’s obvious that you spend most of your time in the main room, which houses the kitchen, a small dining area, and the living room. A door leading into your room branches off to a small bathroom which is just as disorganized as everything else in your house.

Hair products, skin washes, and all kinds of makeup are scattered across the sink and back of your toilet. It’s funny because every time he’s ever met up with you, you’re bare faced and your hair is still drying from the shower you took before leaving your house. The tube of lipstick he picks up makes him think he doesn’t really know you at all.

On the nightstand in your room is a bottle of water with the label ripped off and the two Rossi books you’d bought that fateful day in the bookstore. The label from the water bottle is stuck between the middle pages of one of the books. The passages in question don’t lend anything to connecting you as a homicidal maniac, let alone a serial killer.

Back in the living room, Garcia is snooping through every aspect of your computer.

“I don’t know whether or not the be freaked out by her web history. There’s a lot of murder-y questions here. ‘Signs of a post mortem amputation,’ ‘How much blood can you lose and still live?,’ ‘Most brutal ways to be killed.’ It’s creepy.” Rossi is flicking through the notebook from the table, his eyes squinted as he tried to make sense of the abbreviations and scribblings of another writer.

“She writes crime novels so it isn’t entirely strange for her to be looking at those types of things.” Thankfully, the defense of your web search history comes from the older man who looks up as Garcia delves deeper and deeper. Spencer had thought it first, but hadn’t said anything to avoid suspicion. He’s smart enough to know that the truth has to come out eventually, but he wants to be sure of your innocence (or guilt, he reminds himself a bit glumly) before he reveals your link to him.

“I’m not seeing anything she could be using to contact a partner unless her partner is one of the publishing people she’s constantly messaging via email.” At this Spencer stops, leaning against the back of the couch with his weight resting on the heels of his hands. The stance appears relaxed. He is anything but.

“Why do we assume she has a partner?” Reid asks, impatiently pushing a stray curl away from his face. Rossi glances at him curiously, otherwise undistracted from the shake the movement gives the couch.

“Oh, Prentiss, JJ, and I were looking through her little teal book earlier and the only thing not explicitly stated was just the letter ‘S.’ It’s why they came back to interrogate and they sent you guys to her house. I thought they told you.”

Spencer wants to beat his head against the wall.

“That isn’t a lead, Garcia. You have to tell them that ‘S’ isn’t her partner.” The mouse on the computer screen falters, several saved documents for different rough drafts of books or drabbles are pulled up the way you might have papers scattered about in front of you.

“What is it? Do you know who ‘S’ is?” Rossi is turned sideways on the couch, looking over the back and up at the distressed man in front of him. It doesn’t take him long to connect the dots when they make eye contact. Penelope impatiently whines over the phone.

“I’m ‘S,’ I’ve been seeing her for the last three weeks. I’m sure if you tell me the dates then every single one of them will be days that we’ve had plans together.”

“I’m sorry, what?!” Before anyone has the chance to say anything else, the door to Garcia’s office opens and a second voice filters through Rossi’s phone speaker. It’s JJ.

“Let Reid and Rossi know there’s just been another murder.”

This time it’s a fifteen year old girl. Her hair is black and wet, her lips are as blue as the sky, and she’s naked. Water droplets from her skin have soaked into the sheet of paper that was layed over her chest. The bathtub she’s in is completely empty, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that she was drowned there. The bruises on her shoulders from the force the unsub used to pin her down are dark against the contrast of her already pale skin.

...The man leaned over the tub, his eyes squinted in thought and his lips skewed a little to the side. Ryder stayed focused on the crime scene, for the most part. But even detectives of her caliber, and higher, could easily get lost in the eyes that look up at her from beneath long golden-brown lashes.

“Detective?” She blinks the distraction away, looking back at the girl, her black hair wet and spiraling like the snakes on Medusa’s head against the ivory siding of the drained tub. Ryder can’t help but wish the girl had been lucky enough to turn her killer to stone. Maybe it would have saved her.

“Agent.” She crosses her arms, looking anywhere but at the man across from her, pretending to look for any useful clues. Ryder had gotten to the crime scene fourty-five minutes before the pair of FBI Agents had walked in. The man, who had introduced himself as Supervisory Special Agent Matthew Gray, had decided to join her in the second floor bathroom. His partner, a woman named Katherine Swift, had taken to looking for clues through the rest of the house.

Agent Gray is beautiful. It’s the only adjective that seems to stick to him with certainty, every other aspect of his personality just as elusive as the exact color of those eyes. Even as short as his hair is, the golden brown tendrils are unkempt and curl every which way. Ryder has to force her hand to stay at her side and not reach up to smooth an alfalfa that does nothing for the serious expression on his face.

She keeps imagining what it would feel like if he reached out to kiss her, curling his fingers into her hair and bringing her unworthy lips up to meet his. He’s tall so she would probably have to stretch a little, but she wouldn’t mind. Not when his hands are tangled in her hair and he’s giving her the kiss she’s been silently begging for since the moment he flashed that crooked grin at her.

The imagination is so vivid that she jumps when her own partner, Detective Russo, comes around the corner of the hallway and straight into the bathroom...

The paper crinkles in the evidence bag as Morgan places it on the table, trying to ignore the daggers being glared into him on the other side of the mirror.

Nobody on the team had been very happy with Spencer when they heard the news about your relationship, Hotch had nearly snatched him by the scruff of his neck when he made to go into the interrogation room. But after several minutes of thoroughly explaining himself, Hotch had sent Morgan in. To say Spencer was infuriated was an understatement.

“Do you know what this is, (Y/N)?” You look down at it, twisting the evidence bag so that you could read the Times New Roman font you always wrote in when writing in Microsoft Word. The words cover the front and back of the copy paper, but you don’t have to read it through all the way before you know what it is.

“It’s a page from my newest book.” The bag scratches against the tabletop as you push it away from you, crossing your arms over your chest. Your face is stoplight red with embarrassment at the thought of Spencer reading this page, mostly because you had pulled so heavily from your own thoughts when first meeting Spencer to write Ryder and Gray’s first meeting. You created Matthew Gray to write about Spencer Reid in a way that felt less ‘high school diary entry.’

“More specifically, it’s from the book you just started working on about a month ago. The one that only you and your agent have access to.” Finally, Morgan sits. Before, he’d just been pacing around you the way a lioness might stalk around her prey before she launches an attack. It made you uneasy, but that was the whole point, wasn’t it?

“Do you know where we found it, (Y/N)?” His muscles bulge against his shirtsleeves when he leans them up on the table. Derek Morgan is a very attractive man, you’ll give him that, but if making you uneasy and putting you in the room with a attractive man to fluster you was their strategy then they should have sent in Spencer.

“My computer.”

“We found it on the body of a dead girl.” Another picture joins the ones already shuffled around the table. You can barely look at it, nausea and tears building in your throat at the sight of another person dying the same way you’d written in a story. When you don’t respond, Morgan continues.

“‘She was found at the bottom of an empty bathtub, a pale leg hooked over the edge of the porcelain siding, and her arms pinned to her sides in death. Bruises discolored the skin at her shoulders, and Ryder knew at first glance that her cause of death would be asphyxiation by drowning.’” He drops the paper back to the table, having picked it up to read the passage from the end of the page.

“That’s wrong,” You say, leaning back over the table to look at the paper again. Derek looks down, like the words might have changed in the moment he looked away, but the text stays exactly the same as before.

“That’s exactly what is written here.” You shake your head, pulling the bag back to you and wrinkling your forehead in thought.

“I don’t doubt that is what you read, Agent Morgan,” Your eyes fly over the page, reading the end of the excerpt with overwhelming relief. The bag sticks a little to the pad of your index finger as you tap over the paragraph in question. “But I rewrote this scene only two nights ago. It’s on my computer, I’m sure your tech analyst can confirm my claim. This girl, Bella, she doesn’t die from drowning anymore. Her hands are tied above her head to the faucet and she’s strangled. I couldn’t decide if I wanted it to be by her sister or her girlfriend.”

JJ rushes back to Penelope’s office, on a mission to confirm your statement just as you had suggested. Meanwhile, Morgan’s mind is rushing to figure out the mess he is currently sat in. You lean back in your chair now, unsure if the dizziness you feel is from lack of food or the sudden realization that they couldn’t pin this to you anymore.

“I’m not your bad guy. If I was doing this to prove to my mother that my writing is good, that I chose the right career, as your profile says, I wouldn’t change the scene in my book and not change the murder.” In Morgan’s earpiece, Hotch tells him that you were telling the truth about editing the scene two nights ago.

“Unless you planned it to throw us off track. We know about your relationship with Spencer, you’ve probably found out all kinds of things to do to keep us from catching you.”

You clench your teeth, straightening into your chair and pinning Derek down with a look you’d learned from your mother. It makes him think of his mom, your eyes narrowed and your gaze so cold that it could cause frostbite. He watches curiosily as you tilt your chin up a little, trying to hide the pricks behind your eyes and the wobble of your lip. Derek notices them, the entire team notices. They’re trained to notice.

“I want a lawyer.” You say simply, you voice is sharp and quiet but it does the job of slicing through the tension already building in the room.

“Come on, you don’t need a lawyer.”

“That’s where you’re wrong again, Agent Morgan. I do need a lawyer. Because even though I have full-heartedly trusted the justice system since I was in diapers, and even though I came to these offices willing to help your team in any way that I could, you are still trying to use me as a scapegoat instead of actually doing your fucking job and finding the bastard who is killing people in my name.

“A study from criminal law bulletin says that 10,000 people are wrongfully convicted of serious crimes every year. One in every twenty-five people sentenced to death are innocent, Agent Morgan. Just since 1973, more than 160 people were exonerated from the death penalty. That’s not even counting the people who were killed. But you sure as hell aren’t about to make me apart of that statistic because you want to waste your time trying to piece an investigation around me. That’s not how you’re supposed to do your job. So until you can remember how to do it correctly, I do need a lawyer. Thank you.”

By the time you finish you’ve leaned over the table, your index finger jammed into the wood to make your point. It feels like your chest is on fire as you slam back into your seat and cross your arms, determined to keep your silence for the rest of the time you were forced to sit here.

Everyone on the opposite side of the mirror is stunned into silence, their eyes focused on you even as Derek gathers all the things from the desk and walks out looking a little flustered himself. If Spencer was totally honest, your outburst was actually kind of hot. He has to remind himself that you may have killed eight people in cold blood.

Your lawyer makes it to the BAU in record time, his red hair expertly gelled back from his face. His icy blue eyes only cracking when he sees you sitting by yourself in the interrogation room. Spencer can tell by the way that he lowers himself on the balls of his feet to talk to you, reaching out to touch the hand that sits on your thigh, that he knows you personally. He likes you, actually. Spencer tried to tell himself that it doesn’t make him glad when you pull your hand out of his and awkwardly pat his arm.

He’s been lying to himself a lot today.

Hotch is the one to go back in the room, he was the best at dealing with lawyers. Unfortunately his best wasn’t enough to keep you in custody and soon your lawyer, who Spencer learned was named Jeremy, was walking you out of the room for the first time in six hours.

Your back cracks when you stand, your shoulders rolling back to try and ease some of the stress you’d been holding there since this morning. The sound of the door swinging open for you is almost heavenly, the feel of the air outside of the room is damn near enough to make you cry.

When you look to the side, ready to leave out the second door that leads into the hallway and away from this mess, you meet eyes with the only profiler of the BAU that you hadn’t seen that day. Spencer looks back at you with an expression that you find hard to put into words.

He almost looks sorry, the regret evident in the slight widening of his eyes, but at the same time his chin is tilted up like he is facing an enemy he has vowed to take down no matter the cost. His shoulders are squared, but his arms are uncrossed and his palms are open.

And even though you knew you wouldn’t be there without him knowing, the reassurance that Spencer knew and even suspected you is like a blow to the chest and stomach. It robs you of air, causing you to stumble.

Jeremy reaches to steady you. You shake him off, pulling your eyes from the young doctor and focusing all of your attention on the door knob.

“I’m fine, Jeremy.” Your tone of voice is more harsh than you intended but you’re still struggling to collect oxygen, even when you slide into your car by yourself, it feels like you can’t get enough air. The walk from the BAU offices to the parking lot had passed in a blur. Jeremy’s talk about staying at home and keeping your head low had gone by even faster, and now that you have time to truly be by yourself, everything hits like a ton of bricks thrown at you from a speeding train.

In the midst of your panic attack, gasping for air into the palms of your shaking hands, questioning everything about yourself and your career, you don’t register the shuffle of movement in your backseat. You’re so deep in your mind that you almost don’t notice the cool press of a gun barrel against the back of your neck until a familiar voice lifts your head from your hands.

“Drive.”

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #dr spence reid #spence reid #criminal mind imagine #criminal minds

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buckleysjareau · 4 years

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So, for a prompt, how would you feel about the firefam meeting the BAU team?? Bc in my mind, Buck would get along shockingly well with Reid and Garcia while Eddie and Morgan just brood about their favorite ppl not paying attention to them.

omg yes!!! i love this prompt! the beginning is kind of dramatic but i wanted to give a reason for the bau to be there haha :) hope you like it!

The entirety of the one-eighteen had been on edge the entire week. Not only had their calls been emotionally and physically taxing, but Los Angeles seems to have found itself another serial bomber. According to Athena, the LAPD called in the FBI to help investigate after twists and turns and empty leads.

The reassurance from Athena that they’ve got Behavioral Analysts working hours upon hours with the police department to find the bomber did nothing for Buck’s nerves. It didn’t really do much for the team’s nerves, either. The whole team had been affected by the ladder truck bombing and though they know Freddie is locked away, trauma doesn’t let you think rationally sometimes. When they’re not out on calls, they’re hypervigilant. When they’re out on calls, they’re hypervigilant. At home, they’re either sleeping with one eye open or not at all.

Buck definitely wasn’t sleeping. He checks every possible location in his apartment where a bomb could be hidden before he leaves for work and as soon as he gets home. He sits awake on the couch when he should be sleeping, waits for a knock or a sound of someone leaving something outside of his door. He hasn’t opened his mail the entire week, just leaves it in his mailbox until his landlord has to check on him to see if he’s alive. He rushes to offer to clean the trucks before anyone else can just so he can check closely for a bomb.

Which is exactly what he’s doing when two men walk into the station. He hears Bobby greet them but doesn’t pay attention to the rest until his name is called. That makes his heart beat speed up quicker than the speed of a moving bullet.

When Buck slides himself out from under the truck - he revels in the fact that he can - his eyes widen when he notices the guns holstered on their sides and he’s terrified to find out what the FBI wanted him for.

“You must be Evan. I’m Agent Morgan with the FBI and this is Dr. Spencer Reid, we were wondering if we could ask you a couple of questions?”

“Buck. Just Buck.” He clears his throat. “Why?”

“Do you remember anything about the night Freddie Costas bombed the truck you were on?”

“Why are you asking? Why do you guys need to know what happened? I’m not the one that was targeted. Can’t you just watch the news report, I know it’s everywhere.” His voice is shaky, he knows he sounds paranoid and panicked but that didn’t matter. Why is the FBI asking him?

“We need more information from those involved with the bombings last ye-” Buck scoffs, cutting Dr. Reid off.

“Why ask me then? I wasn’t targeted, I wasn’t on that kid’s kill list, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Is Freddie involved in this again somehow?”

“Buck, man, I know it’s gotta be tough to talk about it, this whole station was affected but you were there closest to him when you were trapped. Anything you can remember about that night could help.” Agent Morgan sighs. “Freddie Costas might have had a partner.”

Well fuck.

“Ask Bobby. He was the original target, he has a vendetta against Bobby.” Buck pushes passed the agents, practically shoving Dr. Reid in the process and he can hear the lecture Athena would give about disrespecting law enforcement.

He winces internally as he thinks about the lecture he’s about to get from his Captain. Great, this is fucking great.

Three days later of restless sleep and constant worrying, Buck gets a call from Bobby on his day off. His heart is in his throat as he answers.

The speed at which his entire body relaxes the second he hears they got her makes Buck dizzy, almost. His knees buckle, falling to his couch in shocked and relieved laughter. He listens as Bobby tells him that Freddie’s partner was a girlfriend who knew her way around making explosives and by Freddie’s orders, she had planned to send one to Bobby and Athena’s again and one to Buck’s for making Freddie’s sentence longer. The fact that he was actually targeted makes him feel a little sick to his stomach but he’s just so full of relief that it’s over again, he laughs.

He feels guilty for the way he’d treated the agents he spoke to. He goes over it in his head as he heads to Bobby’s for dinner after he’d gotten his first full night of sleep in weeks. He shoved a federal agent, cut them off, rolled his eyes. He’d acted like a child and though Bobby didn’t tell him that, he felt like he was being scolded by a father rather than lectured by his captain.

When he arrives at the Grant-Nash’s, Athena greets him at the door and takes the bottle of red wine from his hand with a smile. “Well you look more well rested than I’ve ever seen you, Buckaroo. How’re you doing?”

“Well I’m not crushed under a ladder truck or blown to-” He’s cut off by his own shock at seeing people he definitely didn’t know standing in the Grant-Nash’s living room. His eyes landed on the younger agent he wished he’d had a chance to apologize to not five minutes before. “Uh, hi?”

“Buck, these guys are from the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. I’m sure you remember Agent Morgan and Dr. Reid?”

Buck’s face flushes. “Uh, yeah, I do. Nice to see you again, agents. Sorry about the way I acted, truly. Lack of sleep does that to you, I guess.”

“There’s no need to be, there’s no hard feelings. We understand.” Dr. Reid smiles respectfully.

“Yeah, no need. The important thing is that we caught her and you can put this behind you again.” Morgan holds out a fist and Buck returns it to fist bump. “You can drop the title, by the way. It’s Derek.”

“Endearing as it is to see you guys bro out, I would like to get this party started.” A woman with dark hair chimes in as she grabs the bottle of wine that Buck brought. “Oh, and he brought the good stuff. Hello, I’m Emily Prentiss and you have good taste.”

Buck snorts as he shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you. Honored to have your approval.”

She’s about to respond before she’s cut off by a squeal. “Bucky!”

His entire face lights up as he turns towards the voice. “Christopher!”

“Mr Reid pulled a quarter out of my ear just like you can do! You’re both magic!” Buck lets out a startled laugh. “You also both know a lot of facts!”

“Oh, do we have another Boy Genius amongst us right now?” A blonde woman, who seems to embody sunshine, squeals from Buck’s right. “I’m Penelope Garcia, Garcia, PG, girl of your dreams, whatever you want.”

Buck already adores her attitude and vibe.

“Pretty Boy here’s got an IQ of 187, can read 20,000 words per minute, and has an eidetic memory. How about you, man?” Morgan pipes up.

Buck snorts. “I don’t know my IQ, I definitely can’t read that many words per minute, and I never claimed to be a genius. I just like to read, man. Random stuff in history, astrology, stuff Christopher’s into, philosophy-”

Reid’s eyebrows shoot up in interest. “Who’s your favorite philosopher?”

Thus, a conversation is started. Penelope joins in at the mention of Immanuel Kant and Buck is happy Athena invited them over before they left. He’s lost in a conversation and learning new things and more importantly, he’s made new connections for the day. Eddie joins when the conversation turns to Doctor Who, something that Buck never knew Eddie was into. When he leaves to talk to Aaron Hotchner about baseball, Buck watches as he walks away before getting sucked back into another conversation about black holes.

Across the room from him, Eddie sits with Emily, Derek and a woman he now knows as JJ. He’s laughing as Emily teases him about something. What it could be about, Buck doesn’t know, but seeing Eddie laugh makes his heart soar.

“Oh?” Penelope smirks. “Eddie, huh? What’s going on there?”

Buck’s eyes widen at the unexpected question. “What? Nothing.”

Reid, who didn’t even seem to be one for gossip, scoffs. “Do you know what the BAU does? We study human behavior. The entire time Eddie was over here, you leaned into him whenever you talked. You would brush your hand against his and whenever you’d laugh about something, you’d tap his chest. You only looked at him the entire conversation, you were hanging onto every word. The amount of eye contact between the two of you was evident. When JJ came behind us and knocked into Eddie, you put your arm out to protect him. Classic mannerisms of someone in love.”

“But Eddie does that stuff too. It’s not just me.” Buck really thinks he’s making a point.

Penelope laughs. “Oh, honey, you’re exactly right. This isn’t an unrequited love trope here. Our friends are over there probably teasing him for the same thing right now. You don’t need to be a profiler to see he’s in love with you, too.”

Buck looks over to Eddie along with Penelope and Reid. Eddie’s face is red and he’s looking down as JJ talks exasperatedly. Then Eddie is looking up and catches the three of them staring. Buck’s face is on fire as he waves awkwardly. Derek, Emily, and JJ look up as well and smirk at each other.

“I think I hate profilers.” Buck deadpans.

Across the room, Eddie says the same thing.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #spencer reid #penelope garcia #derek morgan #911 #criminal minds #emily prentiss #bau #my fics

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