maggie

(she/they) kacchako + acofaf + criminal minds

[crazywomanposting]

ೃ⁀➷ maneater (spencer reid x oc)

GIF by thoughtsofreid

summary: Spencer falls in love with an unsub.

warnings: explicit sexual content, graphic descriptions of violence

read this on ao3!

Chapter 10: She’ll Chew You Up

Over the next few weeks, Mary gave Spencer the information he needed. Names, locations, patterns of behavior. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to start piecing together the network she had been caught up in.

The team was skeptical when Spencer first brought the intel to them. “And your source?” Hotch asked, his sharp gaze pinning Spencer in place.

“Confidential,” Spencer replied, his voice steady.

Hotch raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. “We’ll need more to act on this.”

“I’ll get it,” Spencer promised.

Mary’s involvement was kept hidden from the team, but it weighed heavily on Spencer. Every meeting, every conversation felt like walking a tightrope. But they were making progress. Slowly but surely, they were dismantling the network.

Mary’s information was a treasure trove of connections, but it wasn’t without its challenges. Some names were aliases, requiring the team to sift through layers of false identities. Others were high-profile individuals, their influence and resources making them untouchable without airtight evidence. Spencer worked tirelessly, connecting dots late into the night, his mind racing with the implications of what they were uncovering.

One lead took the team to a private club in Chicago, rumored to be a hub for the network’s upper echelon. Surveillance confirmed their suspicions, and they coordinated a raid. It was risky—one misstep could tip off the entire network—but they couldn’t pass up the chance to strike at the heart of the operation.

The raid was a whirlwind of chaos and precision. SWAT teams stormed the club, arresting key figures while Spencer and the team combed through confiscated records. Among the evidence were encrypted files detailing transactions, locations, and names—proof of the network’s extensive reach. But it also revealed something chilling: the network had contingency plans for anyone who betrayed them.

Spencer’s heart sank as he read the files. Mary’s name wasn’t explicitly mentioned, but the details matched her circumstances. If the network suspected her involvement with the FBI, she would be their next target.

He didn’t tell the team. Not yet. Instead, he buried himself in the investigation, desperate to dismantle the network before they could act. The weight of his secrecy was suffocating, but he couldn’t risk exposing Mary to further danger.

One night, as they sat together on the couch, Spencer turned to Mary. “We’re close. Once this is over, you’ll be free.”

She gave him a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Free. Right.”

“Mary…” he started, but she shook her head.

“It’s just… even if they’re gone, I’ll still be me. I’ll still have done the things I’ve done.”

“You’re more than that,” he said softly, taking her hand. “You’ve made mistakes, but you’re trying to change. That matters.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she squeezed his hand tightly. “You make me want to be better, Spencer. I don’t know if I deserve it, but I’m trying.”

“You do deserve it,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “And I’ll be here. For as long as you want me.”

The operation came to a head in a way that Spencer could only describe as chaos. The arrests came swiftly, one lead cascading into another, until the team found themselves unraveling an entire web of corruption and exploitation. They tracked down hidden safehouses, intercepted communications, and froze assets, dismantling the network piece by piece.

Spencer was in the thick of it, coordinating with local law enforcement and FBI field agents. But in the back of his mind, Mary lingered. He thought about her constantly, worried that someone might connect the dots, that her name might slip out during an interrogation. The weight of that fear made every hour feel like a marathon.

When the dust finally settled, and the last of the arrests were made, Spencer excused himself from the team’s celebration. He needed to see her.

Mary was waiting for him when he returned home. The moment he stepped through the door, she was there, arms wrapped tightly around him.

“It’s over,” he whispered into her hair. “They’re done.”

She pulled back, searching his face for confirmation. “You’re sure?”

He nodded. “You’re free, Mary. Really free.”

For the first time in months, he saw something like hope flicker in her eyes. “What does that even mean?” she asked, half-laughing, half-crying.

“It means we figure out what’s next,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. “Together.”

Mary let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. “I don’t even know who I am without all of this.”

Spencer smiled softly. “Then let’s find out.”

The days that followed were tentative but hopeful. Mary took small steps toward building a life she could call her own, and Spencer was by her side through every one of them. It wasn’t easy—there were moments of doubt, of fear, of questioning whether she could ever truly leave her past behind. But they faced it together, and for the first time, Mary began to believe she could have something more.

One evening, as they sat on the couch watching an old movie, Mary turned to Spencer. “Do you think it’s possible? To really start over?”

He looked at her, his expression serious but warm. “Yes. I think it’s possible. But you don’t have to do it alone.”

She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, Spencer.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her hair.

For the first time, it felt like they had more than just a fragile bubble. It felt like they had a future.

last chapter

[crazywomanposting]

ೃ⁀➷ maneater (spencer reid x oc)

summary: Spencer falls in love with an unsub.

warnings: explicit sexual content, graphic descriptions of violence

read this on ao3!

Chapter 9: If you're in it for love, you ain't gonna get too far

The next few months passed in a haze of stolen moments and whispered promises. Spencer found himself looking forward to the times Mary would show up unannounced, slipping into his apartment with a sly grin and a soft "Miss me?" They spent nights tangled in each other, mornings with quiet conversations over coffee, and afternoons pretending that this fragile bubble they had created could somehow withstand the weight of the real world.

But the real world had a way of intruding. The disappearance of a married man with two children sent ripples through the team—a man known for frequenting escorts. Spencer’s stomach churned as the pieces began to fall into place. The victimology fit too well. Too perfectly.

“Reid,” Hotch said, placing a file on his desk. “We need you on this one.”

He nodded, forcing his expression to remain neutral. “Of course.”

Inside, he was spiraling. He knew Mary was trying to quit. She had told him as much, but this? This was too close. Too much. The gnawing doubt clawed at him, and when he returned home that night, she was there, sitting on his couch as if nothing had changed.

“We need to talk,” he said, his voice tight as he closed the door.

Mary glanced up at him, her eyes wary. “What about?”

“The missing man. The married one. Mary, please tell me it wasn’t you,” he pleaded, stepping closer.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “What? No, Spencer. I—I’ve been staying away from all of that.”

“Then why does it fit so perfectly?” he asked, his voice breaking. “Married man, secret meetings, the timing…”

“Because it’s the people I used to work for,” she interrupted, standing abruptly. “Spencer, you have to believe me. I’ve been trying to get away from them, but they’re still out there, doing this. It’s not me. I’ve told you—I’m done with that life.”

His shoulders sagged as he took in her words. “Then why didn’t you come to me? Tell me what was happening?”

She looked away, shame flickering across her face. “Because I was afraid you’d think I was lying. That you’d stop trusting me.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. “Mary, I need to know everything. Who these people are, what they’re doing. If we’re going to stop them, I need your help.”

Her gaze snapped back to his, wide with fear. “Stop them? Spencer, you don’t understand. These people… they’re dangerous. They’ll come after you.”

“Let them,” he said firmly. “I’ve faced dangerous people before. But we can’t let them keep doing this.”

Mary hesitated, her hands twisting together. Finally, she nodded. “Okay. I’ll tell you everything.”

last chapter / next chapter

[crazywomanposting]

ೃ⁀➷ maneater (spencer reid x oc)

summary: Spencer falls in love with an unsub.

warnings: explicit sexual content, graphic descriptions of violence

read this on ao3!

Chapter 8: Moneys the Matter

They ended up on the couch. Mary cross-legged, leaning her head against the back of the couch to stare at him. 

“You didn’t go to college?” 

She laughed and kicked him, “Spencer, do I seem like someone who went to college?” 

Spencer grinned, grabbing the offending foot. “Well, you seem to be well-read. Maybe a bachelor’s in first degree homicide?” 

She couldn’t contain the laugh that bubbled out of her. He absentmindedly ran his thumb over her exposed ankle. 

The movement drew her closer to him, like he had crossed some invisible barrier between them. He looked so at ease like this, the lamp behind him illuminating his halo of curls. 

“Is your name really Mary?” He asked suddenly, stunning her out of her reverie. 

She nodded, eyes fixed on his profile. 

“Biblical.” He replied, “Are you religious?” 

She realised, absentmindedly, that she was much closer to him than she had been five minutes prior. 

“No,” she sighed, “my mother was.” 

He seemed to catch the movement of his thumb, stilling suddenly. His brow furrowed, she wanted to kiss him more than ever. 

She couldn’t make the first move. She had trapped him in this situation to begin with, she couldn’t take advantage of that vulnerability. 

She could see him thinking, silently, staring blankly at the hardwood floors. He had let himself enjoy her company for a moment. He must’ve forgotten what she’d done. Who she was. 

Fear creeped up her spine. Any moment now, he’d ask her to leave. Maybe even call the police, turn her and himself in. She’d confessed to terrible things, maybe the guilt was catching up to him. 

He turned to her. “Why are you staring at me?” His eyes darted around her face, unsure of himself. 

She should lie. 

“You’re handsome.” Truth. 

His eyes dropped to her mouth. “Oh.” 

She leaned toward him, “Spencer?” 

“Spencer,” he echoed. 

She couldn’t help her grin. “Can I kiss you?” 

His eyes met hers. 

“Yes.” 

Mary’s lips were soft against his, tentative at first, as if waiting for him to pull away. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Instead, Spencer leaned in, his fingers finding their way to her cheek, tilting her head slightly to deepen the kiss. She made a quiet sound in the back of her throat, something between a sigh and a whimper, and it ignited something in him he hadn’t felt in years—something alive, something reckless.

He broke the kiss first, but only to catch his breath. “Mary,” he whispered, her name sounding like a prayer on his lips.

She smiled, her forehead resting against his. “Spencer,” she replied softly, her fingers lightly tracing the line of his jaw. “You’re blushing.”

He huffed out a laugh, trying to cover his embarrassment. “Well, it’s not every day a beautiful woman breaks into my apartment, confesses to multiple murders, and then kisses me.”

Mary laughed, a real laugh this time, and it filled the room with a warmth Spencer hadn’t realized he’d been missing. “When you put it like that, I sound nuts.”

He grinned, his hand still cradling her face. “You are nuts.”

Her smile faltered slightly, and he immediately regretted his words. “Hey,” he said gently, pulling back just enough to look her in the eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

She shook her head, brushing him off. “No, you’re right. I am. I… I don’t even know what I’m doing here.”

“You’re here because you want to be,” Spencer said firmly, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside him. “And because, for some insane reason, I want you here too.”

Mary’s eyes searched his, as if looking for some hidden truth. “You know this can’t end well, right?” she whispered.

“Probably not,” he admitted. “But I don’t care.”

She exhaled shakily, leaning her head against his shoulder. “You should care, Spencer. You have a life. A real one. I… I ruin everything I touch.”

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. “Maybe I don’t need my life to be perfect. Maybe I just need it to feel real. And you… you make everything feel real.”

Mary was quiet for a long moment, her breathing steady against his neck. Then, she shifted, pulling back just enough to look at him again. “You’re a terrible liar, Doctor Reid.”

He smiled faintly. “I’m not lying.”

Her fingers trailed down his chest, her touch light and hesitant. “You’re too good for this. For me.”

“Stop,” he said softly, catching her hand in his. “You’re not some monster, Mary. You’re… complicated. And yeah, maybe you’ve done terrible things. But I’ve seen worse. I’ve profiled worse. And none of them ever sat on my couch and made me… feel like this.”

Her eyes glistened with something he couldn’t quite place. Sadness? Regret? Hope? Maybe all three. “Spencer…”

He kissed her again, this time with more certainty, more purpose. Her hands slid up his chest, tangling in his curls, pulling him closer. It was intoxicating, the way she melted against him, the way her walls seemed to crumble in his arms.

When they finally parted, she was breathless, her cheeks flushed. “You’re going to regret this,” she said, but her voice lacked conviction.

“Maybe,” he replied, his forehead resting against hers. “But not tonight.”

She laughed softly, her fingers tracing circles on his chest. “Not tonight.”

Spencer stood, pulling her up with him. She followed without protest, her hand slipping into his as he led her toward the bedroom. It was quiet, almost reverent, the way they moved together, as if the world outside didn’t exist. For the first time in what felt like forever, Spencer let himself forget—forget the cases, the victims, the lies. For one night, he let himself get lost in her.

They undressed slowly, hesitantly, as if they had all the time in the world. Spencer’s hands trembled as they slid over her skin, tracing every scar, every curve, memorizing the way she felt beneath his fingers. Mary’s lips found his neck, his chest, her touch both gentle and insistent. She guided him to the bed, her movements confident yet tender, and when they finally came together, it was electric—a desperate, aching need that neither of them could ignore.

Spencer’s breath hitched as she moved above him, her fingers intertwined with his, her body pressing against his in ways that made him forget how to think. She was everywhere all at once, overwhelming his senses, and he let himself drown in her.

“Spencer,” she whispered, her voice low and breathless, and it sent a shiver down his spine. He pulled her closer, his hands gripping her hips as if letting go wasn’t an option.

They moved together in perfect rhythm, every touch, every sound, every whispered word building to something that felt almost otherworldly. And when they finally reached that peak, it was like the world fell away, leaving only the two of them, tangled together in the quiet aftermath.

Mary collapsed beside him, her head resting on his chest as their breathing slowed. Spencer’s fingers found her hair, stroking it absentmindedly as he stared at the ceiling. He knew this wouldn’t last. He knew they were teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something they couldn’t come back from. But for now, in this moment, he didn’t care.

Mary’s voice broke the silence. “Why did you let me stay?”

He thought for a long moment before answering. “Because I couldn’t let you go.”

She lifted her head to look at him, her expression unreadable. “Spencer…”

He pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. “Don’t. Not tonight.”

She smiled softly, resting her head back against his chest. “Not tonight.”

And as they lay there, wrapped up in each other, Spencer allowed himself to believe—just for a little while—that maybe, somehow, this could be enough.

last chapter / next chapter

[crazywomanposting]

ೃ⁀➷ maneater (spencer reid x oc)

summary: Spencer falls in love with an unsub.

warnings: explicit sexual content, graphic descriptions of violence

read this on ao3!

Chapter 7: The Woman Is Wild

They had spent that evening sitting beside each other in silence. Mary watched him process it for a while, before silently leaving. Undoubtedly, not the resolution she had hoped for. 

He spent his Sunday thinking about her. Her mouth, her teeth marks on a corpse, her hair, her hands bloody. Thinking about the families who buried empty coffins, hoping one day a body would be found, knowing now it never will. 

Now, it was Monday. Time to put his game face on and act like everything is normal, lest he be arrested on eight counts of aiding and abetting homicide. 

Garcia greeted him as soon as the elevator doors slid open. 

“Spencer!” She flung her arms around his neck. He could feel her pom-pom earrings against his neck. 

“Garcia, how are you?” He grinned at her. 

“I’m good.” She drew out each word, and cast a sidelong glance at him. 

He must be doing a terrible job of acting normal, if even Garcia was on to him. 

The day passed similarly, small talk, weird looks, paperwork. Spencer was grateful for the admin work, especially today, as it gave him an excuse to keep his head down. 

Hotch came by his desk in the early afternoon, just as Morgan was beginning to formulate excuses to get out of the office early. 

“Reid,” He began, “Let’s talk, in my office.” 

Spencer’s pulse raced. It was all over. They knew. She had confessed or Erica had. He was spiralling as Hotch closed the door. 

“Are you feeling alright?” 

Spencer froze. 

“Sorry?” 

Hotch furrowed his brow. 

“Reid, are you alright?” He leaned against his desk, arms crossed. 

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Sorry.” Spencer stammered, wringing his hands together. 

“Reid, if you need to take some time, that’s fine. I know, with everything that happened last year…” He trailed off. 

“I’m fine, Hotch. Really.” He tried his best ‘don’t worry about me’ grin. 

Hotch didn’t seem convinced. 

“Okay.” 

Morgan had weaselled his way out of the office before 3pm–a record. Prentiss wasn’t far behind. JJ, however, seemed to be busying herself, as if purposefully hanging back. 

“JJ,” Spencer began, “I’ll finish off whatever you need.” 

She pressed her lips together. “I’m worried about you,” She blurted.

He tried his best not to fidget. 

“Spence, you seem off lately. Talk to me,” She stood and walked toward his desk. 

He shook his head. “I’m fine, JJ. I promise.” 

She held his gaze. 

“No. I know you’re not. Even before San Francisco, you were off. It’s more than just that case.” 

Oh. He’d nearly forgotten. This was the perfect excuse. 

“It’s my mom. She’s gotten worse.” He wouldn’t elaborate. She would just have to be satisfied with that. 

Her face fell. “Oh, Spence.” 

She threw her arms around him. He reluctantly returned the embrace. Far too many people had hugged him today. 

⁂

When he returned home, he hoped to see her. Then, chastised himself for hoping. Either way, she wasn’t there. 

It hadn’t been until he was sitting at his dining table, littered with paper, that he heard a knock. Something in him stirred, but she wouldn’t knock. She’d break and enter. 

He tentatively opened the door, to reveal her small frame, brown eyes peering up at him. 

“Something smells good.” 

Embarrassment flamed his cheeks. “Indian food.” He sounded simple. 

“Can I come in?” She took a step towards him. 

“Yeah.” He didn’t move. 

She took another step, seeming to enjoy how flustered he was getting. Her hand wrapped around his forearm. 

“You’re in my way.” She breathed. 

He took a sudden step back and nearly lost his balance on the uneven hardwood floors. 

“Sorry, sorry.” 

He moved towards the table, suddenly unsure of himself. 

She closed the door behind her and leaned against it. Her skirt was short and it took all his constitution not to stare at the sliver of thigh visible below the hem. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have told you about the cannibalism.” She mused. 

He stilled, eyes wide. 

“You seem so scared of me.” She sounded lighthearted but there was an undercurrent of hurt in her voice. 

He met her eyes. “I’m not scared.” 

She grinned. 

“Are you hungry?” He asked, gesturing to the food. 

She shook her head with a laugh. “I’m not going to burst in here and eat your food, Spencer.”

He froze for a moment, computing. “You don’t eat… Indian?” 

She laughed. “Spencer, are you asking if I eat people?” 

He met her eyes. “Do you?” 

She pushed off the door, moving toward him. “No. Never have.” 

He nodded. 

“Money’s money.” She shrugged. 

He didn’t really agree with that but didn’t want to press the serial killer on morality. So, instead, he offered her a seat. 

She grinned. “Dinner together.” 

He couldn’t help his grin. “Very domestic.” 

She laughed. “Look at you, making jokes. Maybe I’m not so scary after all.” 

He grinned down at his tandoori chicken. 

“Do you feel guilty?”  

She huffed. “Ruining the mood, Spencer.” 

He was silent. 

“No. I don’t,” She sighed, “If you knew these men, you wouldn’t either.” 

He shook his head. “I’d feel bad for killing anyone. I do feel bad about the people I’ve killed.” 

She leaned back in her chair, pulling her legs up to her chest. 

“You’ve never been a prostitute, Spencer. You can’t know how it feels. Some of those men…” She trailed off, looking out of the small window across the room. 

“Why do you do it?” He stopped eating, waiting for her reply. 

“I was young. It’s hard to get out once you’re in.” She seemed so closed off. The carelessness painted across her features moments ago seemed like a distant memory. 

“Are you still… working here?” He was afraid of the answer, if she was, there was no denying him as an accomplice. 

“Not yet.” She refused to meet his eyes. 

“Will you?” 

“If they ask me to, I have no choice.” She met his eyes then. Her gaze was hard. 

He shook his head. 

“I can help you. We can put you in witness protection,” He leaned toward her, eyes pleading. 

“I have no valuable information. They don’t use names. They always call from a different number. I have nothing for the police. They won’t put a serial killer in witness protection because she knows a cannibal ring exists.” She explains, exasperated. 

“Do you think I haven’t thought about this, Spencer? You think I’ve never attempted to get out before,” She scoffed. 

He shook his head, reaching his hand across the table to graze her arm. 

“No. I’m sorry. Of course.” 

She met his eyes hesitantly. 

He turned his hand palm up on the table. She grinned, sliding her palm against his. 

“You are fraternising with the enemy, agent.” She teased. 

He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Don’t tell my boss.” 

last chapter / next chapter

[crazywomanposting]

ೃ⁀➷ maneater (spencer reid x oc)

summary: Spencer falls in love with an unsub.

warnings: explicit sexual content, graphic descriptions of violence

read this on ao3!

Chapter 6: She's Sitting With You But Her Eyes Are On The Door

Spencer relished in the sight of his Quantico apartment building. After so many weeks in California, the East Coast felt like a breath of fresh air. However, his potted philodendron had likely not fared too well after all this unexpected time away.

Spencer creaked open the door to his apartment, fumbling with his keys before switching on the bright fluorescent lights. 

“It’s messy in here.” 

He froze. 

“Sorry about the breaking and entering, I just needed a moment to talk to you.” She explained, standing up from his couch. 

“Mary?” He took a step towards her, hand floating towards his holster. 

She stepped towards him, slender fingers wrapping around his wrist. “Don’t do that.” 

He could feel his heartbeat speeding up at her proximity. She tricked him. 

“What do you need to talk to me about?” He breathed, not sounding nearly as confident as he had wanted. 

She pulled the gun from his holster and rested it on his dining table. He noticed another twin pistol beside it. 

“Spencer, are you wearing a wire or something? Why are we being so cagey?” She ran her hands across his chest, as if searching for some microphone taped under his clothing. 

“No. I mean, we arrested the murderer. You can’t trick me anymore.” He leaned closer to her, an attempt at intimidation. 

Her eyebrows furrowed, eyes searching his. 

“No. You arrested Erica.” She enunciated every word, like he was a child. 

“Erica was the murderer.” He said, but he could hear the doubt creeping into his words. 

“No, Spencer, she wasn’t.” 

He shook his head. 

“We arrested her, and no more murders. We caught her attempting to murder a man. She confessed.” He rattled off. 

She shook her head, placing a hand on his chest. “I thought you were the clever one.”  She sighed. 

“I called the tip in. I sent her there. I told her to kill him. She had helped me before so she agreed. She didn’t rat me out, because the men I work for would have her killed.” 

Spencer couldn’t breathe. 

“I killed those men. I left San Francisco because the feds,” She poked his chest, “Were on to me.” 

He shook his head. 

“Why come here?” His heart was racing and she was so close to him she might’ve heard it. 

“I missed you.” She replied, simply. 

“You killed eight men.” 

She sighed. “Yes, I did.” 

He looked at her incredulously. “You killed eight men.” 

“You covered for me. Isn’t that aiding and abetting, Spencer?” She leaned toward him, words ghosting over his lips. 

He nodded. “It is, and obstruction of justice.” 

Mary hummed. “Mutually assured destruction.” 

He could feel the blood rushing to his face. It was all too much. The guilt that had racked him was back twice as strong, churning his stomach. 

“Please leave me alone.” He whispered. 

She stilled. “Sure.” 

Mary stepped away from him, heading towards the door as he collapsed against the back of his couch. 

“Sorry, Spencer.” 

The door closed. She had left the guns. Dejectedly, he realised she had returned the first. 

⁂

They had landed on Friday afternoon, so Spencer had the weekend to collect himself. Saturday drinks with the team were off the table, there was no way he would be able to compose himself for that. Nor would they find it strange for him to skip the outing in favour of reading or cross-stitch or whatever sort of activities they imagined he enjoyed. 

He had spent Friday night, curled up on the couch, replaying the faces of the victims over and over in his mind. On Saturday morning, he progressed to thinking about their families. 

There was something else plaguing him though. Something much more disturbing. The moment he wasn’t picturing the grisly murder scenes, or faces of the victim’s crying children, he was thinking about her. Her eyes, her hair, her mouth. The way her hands had felt on him. 

But, whenever he found himself thinking about her, the guilt would rush back ten fold. It was particularly agonising, when Morgan called him following Reid’s usual cancellation text. 

“Come on, Reid. We never get weekends off,” Morgan pleaded. 

“I’m tired. I’ll just read tonight, I think.” Spencer replied, putting on his best bored affectation. 

“We did good work out there, kid. We deserve to celebrate.” Reid’s stomach churned. 

“Yeah. I know.” He replied, half-heartedly. 

“Somethings up with you, kid. If you don’t want to talk to me about it, that’s fine. But you’ve gotta talk to someone.” 

Reid felt himself getting misty eyed, but did his best to keep it out of his voice. 

“Thanks. I’m just tired. But, yeah, thanks.” 

Morgan hung up eventually, but sounded worried. Spencer could not have people worrying about him, if they knew what he had done, it would all be over. 

He found himself in the shower, staring at the tiles. Letting the water run over his head, into his eyes, feeling the burn of it. 

A thud shocked him out of his stupor.

He shut off the water and flung open the bathroom door, towel hanging loosely from his hips. 

She was standing in the doorway to his bedroom, sheepishly. 

“I knocked your lamp,” She gestured to the floor lamp beside his couch, “But it’s fine, nothings broken.” 

He was frozen, eyes fixated on her. 

“Sorry again, for the breaking and entering, I just didn’t feel good about where we left off.” 

He tightened his grip on the towel. Her eyes dropped to his waistline, he felt his heart pound. 

“I just feel like you’re feeling bad, and it’s making me feel bad and I thought maybe we could talk? Especially now that we both know what we know.” She was rambling and twisting her fingers together. Nervous again, like she was that first night. 

“What do you want to talk about?” His voice was raspy. 

She cleared her throat. “You should get dressed first, I think. I can go, if you want.” Her eyes darted about his living room. Looking anywhere but where he stood opposite her. 

“Don’t go.” He murmured, surprising himself. 

He ducked past her, into his bedroom and heard her breath catch as he brushed against her shoulder. When he emerged, she was sitting cross legged on his couch and chewing her lip. 

“Dressed,” He gestured to himself. 

She nodded. “Dressed.” 

He sat next to her on the couch, both of their eyes fixed on the bookshelf against the opposite wall. 

“Why didn’t you turn me in?” She whispered. 

He glanced sidelong at her profile. She’d tucked her blonde hair behind her ear, revealing her freckled skin. His heart raced. 

“We’d both be in trouble. I don’t want to give up everything I have.” His voice was just as soft, like it was just the two of them, hiding from the world. 

“You could lie. They’d believe you over me.” She replied, drawing her knees up to her chest. 

“I don’t want to turn you in.” It was the first time he’d really admitted it to himself and it hung between them, filling the space. 

“Why?” She whispered. 

He turned to look at her. She didn’t move, kept her eyes on his bookshelf. 

“I don’t know.” 

She smiled. 

“Why did you kill them?” 

“The men I work for.” She replied. As if that explained it all.

“Why did they want you to kill those men?” He pressed. 

“They didn’t care who I killed,” She sighed, “They just needed bodies.” 

His brow furrowed. 

“Bodies?” 

She turned to him then.

“Spencer, they ate them.”

last chapter / next chapter

[crazywomanposting]

ೃ⁀➷ maneater (spencer reid x oc)

summary: Spencer falls in love with an unsub.

warnings: explicit sexual content, graphic descriptions of violence

read this on ao3!

Chapter 5: Watching and Waiting

The Sunset Hotel was everything the 1.5 star Google rating would have you believe. Dingy rooms, sticky tiles, and a manager that refused to cooperate. 

A week had passed without another victim. It was confusing. It didn’t fit the pattern. The team seemed to be waiting for another strike, but Spencer knew it wasn’t coming. She had been spooked. She had all but confessed to him and he knew too much about her. It was too risky. 

They had figured out the hotels  the first victims were abducted from by tracing cell towers and credit card statements. The Sunset Hotel was where the sixth victim, Grant Willis, had last used his credit card before vanishing five weeks ago. 

They wanted access to the security cameras, normally not an issue for two federal agents. However, this manager, Terry, seemed insistent that there was no footage to view. 

“Look, we don’t have a lot to offer here, okay? Least we can offer is some privacy.” Terry drawled, leaning his forearms on the counter. 

“This isn’t a matter of privacy. We are with the FBI.” Morgan leaned forward to match him, seeming very imposing against the small stature of Terry. 

Terry opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by the shrill ring of Morgan’s phone. 

“Hey, babygirl.” He answered, turning away from the counter. 

“Okay… Alright. On our way.” 

“They know where she’s going to strike.” 

⁂

There had been a tip. Union Square Plaza Hotel at 8pm. 

Spencer’s heart was beating out of his chest. What if she told them he knew all along? Maybe he should confess now. He glanced sidelong at Morgan. His expression was stony, the picture of a man preparing for battle. 

Spencer swallowed past the lump in his throat. It was now or never. He’d be arrested for aiding and abetting, for obstruction of justice, that was years in prison and he’d lose his job. 

“We’re here.” 

Shit. 

“So, the tip said she’d have black hair and be in a red dress,” Prentiss began, as they approached the team, “We know what room they’ll be in, but we have to wait for her to incriminate herself.”

Morgan scoffed. “You mean wait for her to try and kill him?” 

Hotch nodded. “If we arrest her now, we have nothing to charge her with.” 

Spencer didn’t pay attention to the rest of their conversation, his thoughts were spiralling. Black hair? A wig, maybe. 

“That’s her.” JJ grabbed his arm. 

But it wasn’t her. 

Black hair, red dress. She turned to look behind her at the taxi pulling away, blue eyes. It’s not her. 

“She’s going up to the room, we need to go in now.” Hotch ordered, turning to the SWAT team behind him. 

In the hallway, they listened to the feed from the microphone hidden in the room. Eyes all fixed on the closed door. 

“Did you miss me, baby?” A woman’s voice.

“Of course, I did.” A man, older. 

Spencer could feel his heart beating in his throat. They were going to stand out here all night waiting. She wasn’t the killer. How long could he keep this up? 

“Where are you going?” The man whined. 

There was silence and then a thud. Hotch wasted no time. “Go!” 

The SWAT team poured in. The woman screamed as they burst through the door. The man was lying face down, blood already pouring from a gash on his head. She stood with a revolver in her hand. 

They arrested her. She confessed. She had killed them all. She had burned the bodies. Her name was Erica. 

The team all thought Mary had been some lie told by some desperate prostitute in a moment of fear. Spencer didn’t know what to think. 

He had spent days ravaged by guilt and it had all been a lie. 

She tricked him.

last chapter / next chapter

[crazywomanposting]

ೃ⁀➷ maneater (spencer reid x oc)

summary: Spencer falls in love with an unsub.

warnings: explicit sexual content, graphic descriptions of violence

read this on ao3!

Chapter 4: I've Seen Her Here Before

The motel the bureau had paid for was nothing flashy but it was close to the precinct, which made the late night walk back bearable. Spencer had spent hours agonising over Morgan’s conversation with the girl. Desperately, combing through for any clues that might lead him to Mary. 

Why had he let her leave? She was the only lead they had. He was jeopardising the whole case and he didn’t even know why. 

The door creaked open as Spencer fumbled for the light switch but as he stepped over the threshold he felt something press against his back. 

“Be quiet.” 

He recognised the voice, young and shaky.  

He raised his hands. “Okay.”

She pushed him forward. “I just want to talk.” 

He nodded, swallowing. “We can talk.” 

He felt her arm snake around his front and he felt goosebumps raise under the fabric of his shirt. 

She pulled his gun from the holster and let out a shaky breath, stepping away from him. 

“Sit.” 

He obliged and moved towards the mattress but, feeling her tense, pivoted to the small chair beside the makeshift desk. 

She stared at him for a moment. He stared back. He could see her thinking, she was nervous. Scared of him maybe, or scared of Mary? 

She seemed to centre herself and turned to the mattress, lying their two guns side by side. 

“Why didn’t you tell your team I was in that restaurant?” 

He swallowed. 

“I don’t know.” 

She shook her head. “Yes, you do.” 

He fought the urge to bounce his knee. He needed to seem calm and in control. 

“I didn’t want them to arrest you.” He replied, as diplomatically as possible. 

She huffed. “Okay. Why didn’t you want them to arrest me?” 

“I don’t know.” 

She chewed on her lip. 

“Did you see the man I was with?” 

He tried not to seem surprised by the change in direction. 

“Just the back of his head.” 

She nodded. 

“Is he a client?” 

Why did he ask that? It sounded so… jealous. 

She stared at him. “No.” 

He tried to wrangle his racing thoughts. He was a profiler. He should be profiling. The fact that she had followed him here had to mean something. 

“Tell me what you know about the murderer.” She demanded.

He looked at her hands, twisted together as if to stop her fidgeting. She was nervous. This wasn’t something she’d done before. Maybe she was uncomfortable around fire-arms, or violence, but that didn’t make sense with her proximity to the unsub. 

“She’s a sex-worker.” He replied. She already knew that, Morgan had told her, but he had to give her something. 

“What else?” She pressed, tapping her foot against the ground. She was wearing the same heels as the restaurant, had she waited outside the station for him all night? 

“We only have one murder scene.” Lie. 

She shook her head. “Don’t lie.” 

Spencer stilled, caught off guard. 

“We have two.” 

She nodded. “Tigress and Grand Plaza.” 

He shifted, the sound startled her. “Don’t move.” 

He raised his hands, palms facing her. “Sorry.” 

She reached for the gun, ran her hand along the barrel but didn’t pick it up. Strange.

“How do you know about the scenes? Did she tell you?” He asked, carefully not to move too suddenly. 

She shook her head, absentmindedly. “But, you were here before the Grand Plaza. Why does one murder scene get the FBI called?”

“There are missing persons.” He replied, simply. 

She furrowed her brow. “How are they connected?” 

He shrugged. “Makes sense with the victimology that it’s all the same person.” 

She was silent. He could see her thoughts racing as she chewed on her bottom lip. 

“Did she tell you about all the crime scenes?” Maybe she’d slip up if he kept prying. 

Her eyes met his. “That’s not going to work.” 

He watched her carefully. He needed a different angle. 

“What’s your name?” 

Something polite to put her at ease. 

She stilled. That was not the reaction he was expecting. 

“Danielle, isn’t it?”

“No.” She laughed, but it sounded forced. “Danielle is my work name.” 

He nodded. “I’m Spencer.” 

She laughed again. “I know.” 

She leaned against the door and ran a hand through her hair. A movement that should’ve been something he analysed but instead he was mesmerised by the curve of her shoulder. He tried to ground himself. This woman was connected to a serial killer, this was an opportunity he couldn’t squander just because she was beautiful and he was easily distracted. 

“I know a lot about you, Doctor,” She said, meeting his eyes again. 

She sat down on the edge of the mattress, close enough now that he could see the freckles on her face. 

“I know you’re an FBI agent, smart, young, boring.” She grinned. “Handsome.” 

He swallowed. 

“That’s all public information.” It was true. Maybe not the boring or handsome part, but his Phds and involvement with the FBI were. 

She laughed. He bit back a smile. 

“I never said I was a hacker. I just googled you.” She leaned her chin against her hand. “And your handsome friend, Derek.” 

He prickled at that. She noticed. Shit. 

“I don’t know much about you.” He replied, hoping to goad her into revealing something useful. 

“That seems unfair.” She mused, tilting her head to the side. 

He nodded and leaned back on his chair, attempting to seem nonchalant. 

“Well, I’ll tell you my name but you have to keep it between us.” She leaned toward him then. 

He could feel himself losing control of the situation but this could be useful. If he knew who she was, he could find the Unsub. 

He nodded. “I’ll keep it between us.” 

Something in her demeanour changed. Suddenly, seeming nervous again, she struggled to meet his eyes. 

“Mary.” 

last chapter / next chapter

[crazywomanposting]

ೃ⁀➷ maneater (spencer reid x oc)

summary: Spencer falls in love with an unsub.

warnings: explicit sexual content, graphic descriptions of violence

read this on ao3!

Chapter 3: Nothing is New

Someone had tacked up a photograph of her on the bottom right of Spencer’s corkboard. It was taken from surveillance footage of her entering the hotel. She was barely discernible in the photo, just a mop of blonde hair and brown eyes but Spencer had been fixated for the past hour. 

“Well, at least we have a name.” Morgan sighed. 

Spencer, dazed, turned to meet his gaze. “Mary,” He mumbled in agreement.

Morgan, true to his word, had let her go. She’d wrapped a scarf around her hair, and hurried out through the foyer, somehow missed by the cameras. 

“She could’ve been lying.” Prentiss reasoned, stirring her coffee absentmindedly. 

Morgan shook his head. “No. I could tell she was scared. She was telling the truth.”

“Why be scared? Maybe this Mary girl was threatening her,” Prentiss replied, glancing at her photograph. 

“Or just because we were threatening to arrest her.” 

“No.” Spencer straightened. “Prostitution is a misdemeanour, there was no reason for her to be that afraid.”

“So, Mary was threatening her?” 

“Maybe. We need to speak to her again.” 

Morgan laughed. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen, Lover Boy.”

⁂

The Grand Plaza Hotel was a big step down from The Tigress. The cramped room reeked of sex and alcohol, and of course, there was blood splattered across the walls, but that couldn’t really be blamed on the two-star hotel. 

“So, Mary strikes again. Exactly as predicted.” Morgan sighs, squatting beside the mattress, where a particularly dark blood stain spread across the carpet. 

“But somethings off.” Reid replied, scanning the blood splatters. “The last scene was so much neater. There’s something we’re missing.” 

Morgan stood up, following Reid’s gaze to the walls. “Is there? Maybe we got too close and now she’s angry, acting out?”

Reid shook his head. “No. There’s something we’re not seeing.” 

He could feel Morgan’s eyes on him. This was the most alert he had been in weeks, and Morgan had noticed. 

“I just feel like this is only the tip of the iceberg.” There were too many incoherent half-ideas flitting around his mind for him to piece together and it had him on edge. 

Morgan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I’m starving. Let’s get something to eat.” 

They met Prentiss, JJ and Hotch at a crowded Chinese restaurant near The Grand Plaza. 

“So, how was it?” Prentiss asked, as they sat.

Spencer met her eyes. “Messy. Sloppy. Completely different from the scenes so far.” 

She furrowed her brow and met Hotch’s eyes across the table. Spencer opened his mouth to pry about their secretive look but was interrupted. 

Across the restaurant, he met a pair of brown eyes, only familiar to a man who had spent hours that day staring at her photograph. She glanced at the man to his right, Morgan, and quickly looked away.  She fixed her gaze on the plate in front of her. She was wearing red lipstick and, for some reason, Spencer could not drag his gaze away from her mouth. There was a man sitting across from her, dark hair combed over a poorly concealed bald spot. A client, probably. 

“Spence?” 

He jerked back to their table to see Emily’s eyes on him. 

“Everything okay?”

No. He should tell them she was there. They could arrest her. Take her in for questioning. Find Mary before she could hurt anyone else. 

“Everything’s fine. Just tired.” He couldn’t meet her eyes. He was lying and the team of profilers all knew but hopefully he’d bought her enough time to slip away.

last chapter / next chapter

[crazywomanposting]

ೃ⁀➷ maneater (spencer reid x oc)

summary: Spencer falls in love with an unsub.

warnings: explicit sexual content, graphic descriptions of violence

read this on ao3!

Chapter 2: The Lean and Hungry Type

As it turns out, California has rather strict laws against prostitution, which was making it incredibly difficult to track down the unsub or any of her colleagues. Once they found her, their plan was simple: use Morgan as bait. 

The problem was Morgan had thus far had appointments with four different women in an attempt to extract any information about the unsub and had been completely unsuccessful. The local police had arrested the four women he had solicited, despite Hotch’s adamant requests that they wait until after the investigation and each subsequent arrest had made Morgan’s questioning attempts even harder. 

“So, what do we know?” Prentiss asked, leaning forward on her palms in the office San Francisco PD had cleared for them. 

“Autopsies haven’t found any drugs in their systems, so she must be overpowering them,” Morgan replied, staring at the mess of paper sprawled across the table. 

Reid shook his head. “No, she doesn’t need to overpower them. They are in a vulnerable position with her–she exploits that.” 

“She’s only killed married men so far,” JJ mused, “Maybe, she had a husband cheat on her.” 

Reid hummed in agreement. “But we don’t know her usual clientele, so we can’t know if that is a common denominator in her victims or all of her clients.” 

“What if she’s not working alone? Maybe she distracts the victims and her partner kills them?” Morgan asked. 

Prentiss sighed. “What we do know is that her last kill was six days ago, and at this rate, she is going to kill again, soon.” 

⁂

He was late, which was not entirely unusual for her clients, but this guy was new. New guys were usually far too nervous to be late. 

Either way, she was bored. Sitting cross legged on the stiff mattress, bouncing one stilettoed heel. 

A knock startled her. 

She cracked open the door to reveal a broad man with a charming grin. Strange. 

“You didn’t need to knock.” 

“I didn’t want to scare you,” He replied, shutting the door behind him.

He was handsome. Dark brown skin, beautiful eyes, charming grin - not her usual clientele. 

“What’s your name, beautiful?” He took a step towards her. 

“Danielle.” Lie.

“I’m Jordan.” Lie. 

Internally, she cursed Mike. She hated new guys. She had enough clients to fill her days, she didn’t need any strangely handsome men lying about their names to throw her off balance. Regardless, she was a professional and right now she was not acting like it. 

She took a step towards him, placing her hand on his chest. “And, what is it you’re wanting from me, Jordan?”

She felt his heart under her palm, beating steadily. 

“I just want to talk to you.” 

Uh oh. 

“I just have a few questions and then I’ll be out of your hair, Danielle.” He said her name like he knew she was lying. 

Her heart raced. He was a cop. She had to get out of here, fast. 

“I don’t feel like talking.” Another step towards him, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. 

He took a deep breath, she could feel his chest rise under her hand. “Just a few questions, angel. I’m looking for someone.” 

She hummed. “I don’t know her.” 

He leaned towards her. “I haven’t even told you her name.” 

She leaned in, lips ghosting over his jaw. “I don’t know her.”

He swallowed. “She’s young. Pretty. Moved around a lot.” 

She ran her finger along his jaw. “Sounds like me.” 

“Does she?” 

Her lips ghosted over his ear. “Who’s listening to us, Jordan?” 

He stilled. 

“Are you going to fuck me,” she whispered, “or arrest me?” 

His hands found her hips, all of a sudden playing the John. “No one's listening, baby girl.”  

“Baby, then who is in your ear?” 

He moved quickly, one hand wrapping tightly around her wrist, the other pressing her against the wall. 

“Are you going to hurt me?” She breathed.

His eyes bored into hers. “No. Just answer my question.” 

"Let me go.” Her heart was pounding, she could feel it in her throat. 

“There is a girl, someone like you, killing people.” His eyes held hers, analysing every movement. 

“I don’t know her.” She repeated. 

“I need something from you, baby, to keep you safe.” His eyes softened. “Give me something for the cops out there.” 

Her stomach churned. This was too much. Too much all at once. She was going to cut Mike’s head off. 

She needed to think up something that would throw them off. Something close to true. But her brain was scrambled, panic shooting up her spine. 

She just needed to get out of here. 

She could feel the words forming but couldn’t stop them. 

“Her name is Mary.” 

Fuck. 

last chapter / next chapter

[crazywomanposting]

ೃ⁀➷ maneater (spencer reid x oc)

summary: Spencer falls in love with an unsub.

warnings: explicit sexual content, graphic descriptions of violence

read this on ao3!

Chapter One: She'll Only Come Out At Night

He sounded like a boar when he came. 

Squealing and sweaty on top of me. I thought of how it might feel to hear him scream. 

His name was Rudy. He came monthly. He wore a gold band on both ring fingers and refused to tell me what it meant. He always fucked me from behind. He would prop me up like I was in a yoga class, and I would think ‘cat, cow, cat, cow’ until he came. 

I always waited for them to move first. In the interim, I pant with him, pretending like I’m also expended from it all. 

Finally, he stands. Peels his sweaty skin off of mine and walks to the side of the bed. I stand, walk to the bathroom and let his semen drip down the inside of my thigh. It squelches as he buckles his pants loudly behind me. 

I am always leisurely in my cleaning up. I always hope they will leave before I am done. They almost never do. 

Rudy always waits. He sits on the mattress, precariously close to the edge, as if to distance himself from the whole thing. 

I wring out a hand towel in the sink. Imagine the coarse terry cloth as something softer, like skin, or a neck. 

He stands up as I approach him. 

“Thank you, darling.” He places a hand on my elbow, like some sweet Southern gentleman. 

“I’ll see you next time, Rudy.” I smile. 

He leaves with a nod. 

He drives a Mustang. Ostentatious, as Mike would say. 

⁂

This was Spencer’s second trip on the jet today and he was exhausted. JJ was handing out the case file: a suspected serial killer in San Francisco. 

“Reid?” Morgan snapped his fingers, “You with us, pretty boy?”

“Uh, yeah. Just tired.” 

JJ nodded solemnly. “It’s been a long day.” 

Spencer looked at the folder that had been thrust into his hands, shuffling through the missing people’s profiles within. 

“All men?” He asked. 

“All men.” JJ echoed, “Makes me think it’s a woman.” 

Spencer furrowed his brow. “I don’t know. Maybe some sort of blitz attack but these are big men. It’s hard to say one way or the other.” 

“Six missing persons sounds like a serial killer to me,” Morgan replied. 

“And one bloody crime scene,” JJ added. 

Hotch stood. “Prentiss, Reid, I want you to go to the crime scene. Everyone else, let’s meet at the station.” 

Spencer trailed behind Prentiss as they walked through the floor of The Tigress Casino. Leading them was a stocky man who had introduced himself as Rudy, the owner. 

Rudy led them to Room 208, reported at 9am that morning as the scene of a crime. Local police had linked it to the missing persons cases in the area. 

“Housekeeping found it like this this morning,” He announced, holding open the door for the agents. 

It was a small room with a queen bed in the centre, sheets rumpled but the bed was still made. Beside it, there was a blood stain shaped vaguely like Texas. 

“No murder weapon?” Prentiss asked, hands in pockets. 

“We don’t even know if it was a murder yet,” Reid replied, squatting beside the blood. 

“No one is losing that much blood and surviving it.” 

“Actually, the average adult can lose a little over half a gallon of blood before they need a transfusion,” Reid murmured, absentmindedly. 

Prentiss glanced at him. The profiler part of his brain, grinding along on autopilot even as the rest of him is elsewhere, recognised her action as checking on him, worrying, maybe. 

The rest of the day passed as such. There were families to visit, asking grieving wives intrusive questions about their husbands, mother’s to probe about their sons and one grandmother, who was the victim’s only living relative. 

It wasn’t until they were driving to the precinct that Emily finally confronted him. 

“You doing okay, Reid?” She asked, lightly, as if she hadn’t been worried about him all day. 

Spencer hummed. “Yeah, just tired, I guess.” He knew exactly what she was referring to, his glossed over expression and absentminded remarks. She thought he was using again. 

She didn’t reply. Just nodded and kept her eyes staunchly focused on the road. 

At the precinct, as they shared their findings, Morgan had suddenly stood up. All eyes turned to him as he grinned wickedly at Spencer. 

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Pretty boy?” 

Spencer nodded, not returning the smile. “She’s a prostitute.” 

They all agreed. The victims were predominantly married men, checked into hotel rooms that their wives didn’t know about. Wealthy families, with children and unfaithful husbands. The other’s had been divorced or never married but still fit with the victimology. 

Initially, the disappearances had been months apart but she was rapidly devolving. She would strike again, and soon. 

next chapter

[crazywomanposting]

writing graphic criminal minds fanfiction apologies to my mha oomfies LMFAO

[howlbear]

I'm screaming???

[melomancy]

Kate Bush in the ‘Experiment IV’ music video (1986) — photographed by John Carder Bush

[treloninjaki]

🎃 injured 🐺

[phantasymist]

you’re laughing. lin manuel miranda was cast as hermes in the percy jackson show and you’re laughing.

[crazywomanposting]

made a playlist for lesbians that isn’t just girl in red/hayley kiyoko/king princess

songs for lesbians that aren’t corny

[mossyguilt]

Bakugo in Kacchako fanfics be like