#aaron hotchner x derek morgan x spencer reid

[cognitiveoverload]

The secret is out (Aaron Hotchner x fem!BAU!reader)

summary: You and Hotch have been dating for half a year in secret. When the team decides it's time to help Spencer ask you out during the Christmas dinner you host for them, Hotch realizes that it might be time to tell the truth.

note: Takes place after Hotch's divorce, but before Haley's death.

The whole Christmas dinner is the result of a chain reaction. You invited Penelope, who invited Derek, who invited Spencer, who invited JJ, who invited Emily, who invited Dave, and finally, Dave invited Hotch. And to make things worse, this time there is a plan—the plan to help Spencer make the first move and finally ask you out. 

When Dave tells Hotch about it in the car on the way to the dinner, he smiles and acts like it’s adorable. Normally, it would be exactly that. They all love Spencer, they all want him to be happy, but considering Hotch only left your apartment this morning, he isn’t the right person to ask for help with this. This only makes him wonder if you should make your relationship official, if you should tell the team that the two of you have been seeing each other for over half a year now. 

“The early birds,” you say with a warm smile when you open the door and let them inside.

Dave glances down at his watch for a brief moment, then, as he walks past you, he speaks up. “I guess it means we’re the first ones.” When you hum in agreement, he stops and turns to look at the other man. “I told you we’re gonna be way too early.”

It takes every ounce of willpower not to tell him it wasn’t his idea to come together. He’s here exactly when he wanted to arrive, it’s not his fault that Dave decided to tag along. With a forced smile, he shrugs and shows you the two bottles of wine he brought as a gift. “Is there a wine cooler somewhere?” he asks casually.

You close the closet where you put their coats, then turn back to nod. “My parents love wine, so of course they have one,” you reply with a short laugh. “Not like they were alcoholics, they just… you know.” Hotch has to fight hard to keep his emotions in check, but you notice. You always notice. “Oh, sure, I’ll lead the way,” you say, signaling him to follow you. 

Since you made sure Dave was occupied with the photos in the living room, you quickly take the bottles from Hotch to put them in the cooler, then return to him with a seductive smile. “I missed you.” He leans closer, his lips almost touching yours as he speaks, knowing perfectly well this most probably makes your heart rate jump. “I’m sorry, Dave insisted on coming with me.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him with a loving smile.

These are one of those rare occasions when Hotch can loosen up, getting lost in the moment, so he doesn’t hesitate to close the gap and kiss you gently, letting his arm sneak around your waist as he pulls you closer. He knows he has to warn you, and he knows you should know how he feels about that plan, but it’s so good to have you like this again. You’re like a drug, and he loves the high you give him, and each time he tastes your lips, he just knows you should make your relationship official.

As stupid as it is, he wants to let everyone know that you’re his, he wants to mark his territory, and if he has to face the wrath of his team for hiding something like this, so be it. Because whenever he sees you interact with his son, he knows this is what he wants, and not just with Jack, but with a child that’s yours entirely. This is what’s been on his mind lately, and the thought is driving him crazy.

“There’s something I want to discuss with you,” he speaks up as he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

But before he could go on, you hear Dave clear his throat in the door, and when you both turn to look at him, he’s watching you with a knowing smile. “I wanted to tell Hotch we left the gifts in the car, but I guess I’ll bring them in myself since he’s busy at the moment,” he announces teasingly. 

Hotch lets you go and takes a step closer to his colleague. “Dave, I can explain,” he says, knowing he should give an explanation. After all, he’s your boss, you’re a lot younger, and he just agreed to help Spencer ask you out a good half an hour ago. It probably doesn’t look good from the outside. 

Smiling, Dave shoves his hands into his pockets. “No need to explain, I’ve seen enough. The best you can do now is laying your cards on the table when we’re all together. Spencer really likes her, and tonight everyone will be doing their best to get them together. Just be honest,” he tells the two of you, then turns around to leave the house.

You wrap your arms around his body and bury your face into his chest, and he lets out a sigh before placing a kiss on the top of your head. “He’s right, we need to tell them,” he says softly, leaning back just enough to look you in the eye. 

“Okay,” you agree weakly. 

For a few moments you watch him with those big, doe eyes, which brings back his earlier thoughts. “There’s something I want to tell you before Dave returns,” he begins, his voice carrying the kind of uncertainty and vulnerability that he only allows to have around you. When you hum to make him continue, he exhales slowly to prepare himself. “I would like to have another child. With you.”

At first, you don’t react at all, as if the statement completely froze your brain. But then you slowly blink at him, your lips slightly parting as you take a breath. “A baby?” you ask quietly, earning a nod in response. 

“I know we haven’t been together for that long, but I know that I love you. Sure, we don’t have to start the baby project right away, I understand if you’re not ready,” he assures you.

A sweet smile slowly appears on your lips as you stand on your toes to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “I love you too, Aaron. And maybe having a little kid together isn’t such a bad idea,” you say kindly. But then the sweet smile shifts into a wicked one. “Can you stay the night? I hate to be alone in this stupidly big house, and I think I’ll be too lazy to drive home after dinner.” 

There’s something else, something you’re not telling him, and it takes him a moment to realize what it is. “Oh, wait, you mean…? Tonight?” he asks, unable to hide the confusion that slowly mixes with excitement. 

With an adorable giggle, you take his hand and lace your fingers. “Why not? Unless you have better plans,” you add, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“If you’re serious about this, I won’t have better plans until we have a positive test,” he states before kissing you again.

“I think they’re looking for glasses in the kitchen.”

Hotch is quick to step away from you, grateful that Dave gave you a chance to find an excuse for being there alone. So, without much hesitation, you point at a cabinet and then move to another where your parents keep the coffee mugs. He takes out enough glasses for everyone, then heads to the dining room with them. He can see JJ and Dave discussing something, and she flashes a smile at him when their eyes meet.

“She’s in the kitchen?” JJ asks him, to which he replies with a nod. “I’ll see if she needs more help then.”

When she disappears, Hotch stands in front of Dave with an uncertain look on his face. “Thanks for the warning. We discussed this whole thing, and we’ll tell the team once everyone’s here. This is for the best,” he says. 

The other man lets out a short breath with an amused smile, but he doesn’t say a word–not yet. But then, at the moment they hear a car stopping, followed by the sound of a cheerful conversation, he finally opens his mouth to speak. “You’ll have to talk to HR about this.” Hotch nods. He’s painfully aware of that conversation. “But you both look happy, and if you’re both happy, I’m happy too.”

A sigh of relief escapes his lips upon hearing this. It’s good. You have at least one person in your corner. 

Within a matter of seconds the remaining guests appear, smiling happily as they balance the wrapped gifts in their hands. Once the newcomers settle down, Hotch shepherds everyone into the living room, deciding that this is the perfect time to make the announcement, before the little schemers set their plan into motion. You look a little uncertain, but he doesn’t want to let you feel like that. He stands next to you, but he avoids physical contact for now. 

“There’s something I wanted to tell you all before we sit down to eat up all the food our generous host prepared,” he begins, and out of the corner of his eye he can see you roll your eyes. “You know me, you know I usually respect the regulations, but a few months ago I crossed a line I shouldn’t have. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret it, and I don’t want to stop after this conversation we’re having now. I just wanted you to all know that we started to date a few months ago,” Hotch says as he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer. 

Surprise, surprise, a little more surprise, and then there’s the look of betrayal on Spencer’s face. He avoids your gaze, and he doesn’t look at his boss either, but that’s okay, he didn’t expect him to start cheering. This might be tough for him, but he’ll get over it for sure. But the others soon turn supportive; they start to tease them, they come up with jokes, and some even begin to dig deeper to get some more details out of you two. You quickly loosen up enough to answer them, but Hotch doesn’t let you do the talking alone, he’s staying by your side the whole time to support you. 

You’re a little team of two now. Hopefully, you’ll be the mother of his youngest child in the future. It’s his duty to always protect you.

[mggslover]

The Holiday Getaway ❆

A Holiday to Remember: part 1

In which the BAU's holiday getaway takes a dark turn when a family is found murdered on Christmas, forcing the team to investigate while reader struggles with painful memories of her past and her growing, unspoken feelings for Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!bau!reader Genre: bau found family fluff and comedy, slight angst Content warnings: mentions of shitty past christmases, suggestive content Word count: 5,8k A/n: merry christmas eve! this is part 1 of my holiday special and focusses all on the fun, cute found family vibes of the bau outside of a case. next part will explore a crime case and delve deeper into reader's relationship with spencer (smutsmutsmut), so be sure to check it out tomorrow! don't forget to interact if you've enjoyed this, it'll mean a lot 🎄🤍! dividers by @issysh3ll

Snowflakes swirled against the windshield of the car, vanishing as quickly as they arrived thanks to the rhythmic sweep of the wipers. The soft hum of Christmas music filled the SUV, providing a festive backdrop to the ongoing bickering between Garcia and Morgan in the front seats. 

You were on your way to the BAU’s first official holiday getaway. It was a couple of weeks ago when Garcia came up with the idea to spend the holidays together. She planned the entire thing out and got a cabin in the woods booked, without so much as a heads-up to the team. Garcia was adamant about making this a traditional Christmas weekend getaway: Secret Santa’s, hot chocolate by the fireplace and snowball fights. As tempting and relaxing as those activities sound in comparison to the usual unsub hunting, a traditional getaway also meant no GPS, since that “ruins the fun”. So much for being a tech analyst.

“Okay, now take a right,” Penelope instructed Derek, holding a map like it was some kind of ancient artifact. “This is the shortcut. I swear.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “A shortcut? You sure? Because if we get lost again, I’m pulling up the GPS.”

Penelope made a face. “We do not need the GPS. I know this route like the back of my hand.”

Spencer and you shared an amused glance from the backseat, feeling like the younger siblings on a family road trip. You couldn’t help but wonder how the other SUV was doing. It wouldn’t surprise you if Hotch, Rossi, JJ and Prentiss already made it to the cabin, warming up by the fireplace, probably betting on how many wrong turns you'd taken by now. 

After about six more chess matches on your tablet with Reid, you’re already the children of the trip, no need to hide the iPad kid allegations, the car finally slowed as Penelope’s excited shriek filled the air, announcing that you’d arrived. 

You squinted through the window, shielding your eyes against the soft, bright snow that blanketed the landscape. There, nestled in the distance, was a massive wooden house with a smoking chimney, decorated in twinkling fairy lights. The scene looked copy pasted straight out of a Christmas movie. Spencer leaned in beside you, his curls brushing against your face, eager to see the scenery. When he pulled back, his eyes sparkled with excitement. 

“Come on, let’s go,” you said with a smirk, pushing open the door. Everyone piled out of the car, the crisp air biting at your skin. Derek moved to the trunk to grab the bags, handing them out one by one. The hum of the engines of the other SUV echoed in the distance as Hotch waved from the driver’s seat, pulling up alongside you. 

“Ha! I told you it was a shortcut!” Penelope teased, giving Derek a playful punch in the arm.

“I know, I know. Never doubted you, baby girl,” He responded, holding his hands up in surrender.

You turned to Rossi as he slowly emerged from the other car with a huff, stretching his legs in exaggerated motions.

“You doing alright there, Rossi?” you asked with a grin.

He groaned, bending down to touch his toes. “I didn’t sign up for a six-hour car ride,” he muttered. 

“Poor passenger princess,” you shot back, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips. 

Emily and JJ stepped out of the car, their boots crunching softly against the snowy driveway as they approached you.  

“How was the ride?” JJ asked, her breath visible in the crisp winter air.  

“An eventful one, that’s for sure,” you replied with a knowing smile. “What about you? What did you two get up to?”  

“Well, we took a trip down memory lane,” Emily smirked. “Rossi finally spilled the tea on what really happened with all of his ex-wives.”  

“No way!” you exclaimed in disappointment. “I’ve always been curious about what went down with his third wife.”  

JJ chuckled, her arm slipping through yours. “One of these days, I’ll give you the whole story—over wine, of course.”  

The group moved toward the house, and as you stepped inside, the scene before you took your breath away. If the exterior had been magical, the interior was nothing short of a Christmas dream come true.  

The vaulted ceiling soared high above, its beams adorned with twinkling lights and garlands of fresh pine. In the corner stood an enormous Christmas tree, its branches heavy with ornaments that shimmered in the golden glow of soft fairy lights. The very tip of the star-topped tree nearly grazed the ceiling.  

One wall of the living room was a seamless expanse of glass, framing a picture-perfect view of the Winter Wonderland outside. The warmth of the room drew you further in—a handwoven rug stretched across the wooden floor, anchoring a cozy sitting area arranged around a roaring fireplace. The flames crackled and popped, casting flickering shadows over the deep brown leather couches and armchairs.

Hotch and Derek, ever the gentlemen, were already gathering the luggage toward the grand staircase, Penelope instructing them on where to place everything.  

You laughed softly. For a moment, the scene around you felt overwhelming. Being surrounded by people who felt like family, people who cared enough to include you in something so meaningful—it was almost surreal. You couldn’t help but feel a little out of place, like you were stepping into a picture-perfect moment that wasn’t meant for you. 

The thought brought a bittersweet pang, memories of past Christmases creeping in. You remembered locking yourself in your room as a kid, trying desperately to block out the shouting from the other side of the door. And later, when you lived on your own, how the silence of those solitary holidays had felt just as loud.

You blinked back the sting in your eyes, unwilling to let the weight of the past overshadow the beauty of the moment. JJ squeezed your arm lightly, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You okay?” she asked softly, her eyes kind and knowing.

You nodded, managing a small smile. “Yeah,” you said, your voice a little uneven. “Just...taking it all in.”

JJ returned your smile. “She really outdid herself, huh?”  

Your gaze flicked to Garcia, now descending the stairs with Hotch and Morgan, their laughter filling the space. “Oh, she really did,” you chuckled, the aching feeling being washed away by gratitude.  

“My brilliant, beautiful people! Let’s gather around!” Garcia announced, her hands fluttering theatrically as she beckoned everyone closer. She reached into her coat pocket, taking a notebook out with on the cover a pug wearing a Santa hat. 

Clearing her throat with mock importance, she held the notebook up. “First of all,” she began, “I want to say how ridiculously happy I am to be surrounded by all of you today. Truly. I mean, look at us! My fabulous crime-fighting family, all gathered in one glorious Winter Wonderland!” She placed a hand over her heart dramatically. “I’m especially glad I managed to convince you all that spending the holidays here is way more important than whatever terribly mundane plans you had in mind for the weekend.”

Her announcement was met with a round of chuckles and a few amused groans.

“I won’t leave you hanging for that much longer, I know everyone is excited to go wander around, so now, I will be announcing the bedroom arrangements for the next two nights.” 

She flipped open her notebook with a dramatic flair. “For our fearless leader and our Italian stallion,” she began, gesturing dramatically toward Hotch and Rossi, “I’ve selected the room on the far left—peaceful, secluded, and far away from the rest of us loud, lovable lunatics.”

This earned some chuckles. Hotch and Rossi exchanged a nod.

“Next,” Garcia continued, “Emily and JJ, my glorious goddesses, you’ll be sharing the suite next door to them. Roomy, cozy, and perfect for midnight gossip.”

“As for me and Hot Stuff over here,” Garcia said, flashing a grin at Morgan, “we’ll be right next door to the goddess suite. And last, but certainly not least,” she declared, looking over at Reid and you, “my beautiful geniuses will take the far-right room. Bright minds need a quiet place to rest after dazzling us all day long.”

The group clapped and cheered as Garcia snapped her notebook shut with a satisfied nod. There were no surprises in the arrangements—everyone naturally gravitated to their usual pairings. With that, everyone began to disperse, laughter and easy conversation filling the air as they made their way toward their assigned rooms.

“I hope we get a room with a window,” Spencer said as the two of you walked toward the stairs, his tone light with anticipation.

“Oh, me too,” you replied with a dreamy sigh. “Imagine waking up to that view.”

When you reached the door to your room, you gestured for Spencer to open it. “Go ahead, Dr. Reid. The honor is all yours.”

Spencer turned the handle and stepped inside, his gaze immediately drifting to the far wall. “We did get the window room!” He said, his voice tinged with genuine delight.

But while Spencer was marveling at the view, your attention went straight to the king-size bed dominating the center of the room.

You froze. Then you heard it—the soft, innocent “Oh” from Spencer as he realized it too.

“Uh... yeah. One bed,” you said, your voice tight.

Spencer turned to you. “Well, at least the window is nice,” he offered helpfully.

You blinked at him, then quickly turned on your heel. “Wait here. Don’t move,” you ordered, making a beeline for the room next door.

Three sharp knocks later, Penelope swung the door open, her expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Is everything okay?”

You peeked into her room, your eyes landing on the two neatly made single beds. “Oh, everything is not okay,” you replied, crossing your arms.

“What’s up, sweet cheeks?” Penelope asked, feigning innocence.

“What’s up,” you said, voice rising slightly, “is that there’s one bed in our room. One!”

Penelope scrunched her face in mock surprise. “Oh no, that’s so weird! I could have sworn all the rooms had two beds.”

“Pen,” you groaned, narrowing your eyes. “How could you do this to me? I can’t share a bed with Spencer!”

“Why not? You have a crush on him!” Penelope replied, dropping the act. “I thought I was doing you a favor.”

“Yes, a crush!” you hissed, glancing nervously over your shoulder to make sure no one could hear. “Crushes are for daydreaming about, not for... for sharing beds! That crosses all the boundaries—professional, personal, existential! All of them!”

“We’re not at work, darling. We’re just a group of friends having a fun weekend together. Friends can totally sleep in the same bed without it being a big deal,” she tries to encourage.

You groaned again, burying your face in your hands. “This is a nightmare.”

Penelope stepped closer, her tone shifting to something gentler. “Okay, okay, calm down. How about this? Derek and I can swap rooms with you two. We’ll survive the whole one-bed situation, no problem.”

You peeked up at her through your fingers, your heart racing at the thought. “Oh, uh, no, no,” you stammered. “That’s not... necessary.”

Penelope’s eyebrow arched slowly, a knowing smirk creeping onto her face. “No?”

“No! I mean, we’re professionals, right? It’s just... sleeping. Innocent, completely normal sleeping, next to each other, in the same bed. Totally manageable,” you babbled, the words tumbling out in rapid succession.

Penelope crossed her arms, smirking even wider. “Uh-huh. I’ve never met two people more professional than you and Spencer.”

“Exactly!” you squeaked, nodding so fast it felt like your head might fall off. “I’ll, uh... I’ll just let him know we’re keeping the room.”

“Great plan,” Penelope said, patting your arm in encouragement. “Go get ‘em, babe.”

You shot her a panicked smile and turned back toward your room, heart pounding as you steeled yourself for the next step.

With a deep breath you entered your shared room again, seeing Spencer seated on the edge of the bed, playing with his tie. He looked up as you creaked open the door.

“Hi, I—uh, Penelope made a mistake with the beds,” you said, stepping into the room.

Spencer faintly smiled. “I assumed as much.”

“Is it okay if I grab a quick shower before the whole Secret Santa thing?” you asked, hoping to keep things casual.

“Of course!” he said quickly, nodding a bit too earnestly as he shifted on his feet.

“You can stay here, you know,” you offered, gesturing to the bed. “Watch some TV or something. I won’t take long.”

But Spencer was already shaking his head, waving off the idea. “No, no, it’s fine. I, uh, still have some things to take care of.”

“Alright,” you replied, trying not to overthink his reaction. Was the whole one-bed situation making him uncomfortable?

Spencer grabbed his bag and slipped out of the room as you headed for the connected bathroom. The moment you stepped inside, your annoyance with Garcia melted away.

The bathroom was like something out of a dream. Hanging lamps casted a warm, golden glow, and the walls were made of rich oakwood, giving the space a cozy yet elegant feel. The floor was cool stone tile, and to the left, a matching wooden vanity stood under a large mirror. On the right, a sleek glass shower. But the real showstopper was the round bathtub at the far end of the room, set under yet another window with a breathtaking view of the snow-covered trees. Judging by the controls on the side, it looked like it doubled as a hot tub. Either Penelope had blown the entire budget on this trip, or this was her attempt at matchmaking taken to the next level.

Shaking your head, you stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away your tension as you tried to stop obsessing over the sleeping arrangements for the night.

Meanwhile, Spencer was spiraling. The second he left the room, he raced to Penelope and Derek’s room, knocking urgently.

The door opened a crack, and Penelope peeked out. “It’s just a bed, don’t stress about—oh! Spencer!” she squeaked, clearly expecting you.

“I’m not worried about the bed,” Spencer said in a rush, his eyes wide and earnest. “I need to talk to Derek.”

Penelope blinked, thrown by his sudden intensity. “Uh... okay? Pretty sure he went outside to look around.”

“Thanks!” Spencer called over his shoulder, already halfway down the stairs.

Penelope watched him go, her curiosity piqued. “Oh, boy,” she muttered under her breath. “This is going to be so good.”

Spencer’s eyes darted frantically around the room until they landed on Derek. He sprinted toward him, halting abruptly when he saw that he was in the middle of a conversation with Emily.

“Derek,” Spencer called, getting his attention. “I need you.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. “Now, I was expecting you to confess to me one of these days, but certainly not like this,” he joked, making Emily stifle a laugh behind her hand.

Reid rolled his eyes, his voice tinged with impatience. “I’m serious. Please, just come with me.”

Derek glanced at him, clearly confused. “Alright, man,” he said slowly, trying to figure out what got Reid so worked up. Emily waved them inside as she stayed behind.

“What’s up?” Derek asked once they were inside. 

“You picked Y/N for Secret Santa.” Spencer stated.

Derek blinked, still processing. “Yeah, I did. Why?” His eyes widened as the realization hit him. “Oh, you peeked, didn’t you? Penelope’s going to kill you.”

“She doesn’t have to know,” Reid replied quickly, his voice almost pleading. “Look, I need to swap with you. I got Garcia.”

“What?” Derek asked, clearly offended. “No way. I already bought something for Y/N.”

“I’ve got something for Garcia too,” Reid said, lifting his bag as if to prove it, “it’s probably better than anything you could come up with.” 

Morgan shook his head, refusing to budge. “I’m sorry, man. I don’t know what you’ve got against Garcia, but it’s not happening.”

Spencer paused, pursing his lips. “It’s not about Garcia,” he began, thinking his next words through. “I’ve got something special for Y/N, and I really want to give it to her tonight.”

Morgan’s eyes widened in surprise. He had a thousand questions ready to ask, but over the years, he'd learned not to press Reid when he got this sincere. He’d be sure to get the full story from Garcia later.

After a long pause, Derek sighed. “Alright. Fine. But you owe me big time.”

Spencer exhaled in visible relief, a genuine smile flickering across his face. “Thanks, Derek.”

You’ve got yourself all cozied up on bed, a book in your hands and wearing the matching Christmas pajama set you got with the girls. The door creaks open, and you look up to see Spencer standing there, a small smile tugging at his lips. His posture is less tense than before—his shoulders are relaxed, and the frown on his face seemed to have melted away. The time spent alone seemed to have calmed the both of you.

You turn fully to your side, facing him. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he replies. “How was the shower?”

“Oh God, Spence,” you sigh, the memory of it still fresh in your mind. “I swear, you need to give it a try. It was the most heavenly experience of my life.”

He chuckles in response. “I can’t say no to that.”

Spencer places his bag down on the chair by the door before heading into the bathroom. Your fingers flick through the pages, content when you find the sentence where you left off. 

Suddenly the peaceful silence is interrupted by a piercing scream. You’re sure you’ve broken a world record, because in a split second, you’re off the bed, gun in hand, and racing toward the bathroom door. 

You quickly scan the room, finding no danger. But there, standing under the shower, is Spencer—completely naked, eyes wide in panic, hands clutching at his skin. The glass shower walls don’t hide anything, and in a blur of horror, you realize everything is on full display.

You join his screaming, and instinctively, you spin around, covering your eyes even though your back is already to him.

“I didn’t see anything! I didn’t see anything!” you stammer, not sure whether you’re trying to convince yourself or him. Because, well, you definitely saw a thing.

Both of your screams come to a halt. The silence that follows is thick with awkwardness, and after a beat, Spencer’s voice cracks through the tension.

“You—you set the water temperature to 115 degrees!” he says, sounding somewhere between panicked and utterly exasperated.

You blink, still trying to recover from the shock of what you just witnessed. “I thought you were dying!” you blurt out.

“My skin was dying! You’re stripping away the natural oils your body produces to protect itself. You know the skin is an organ, right? It’s not some random thing you can just ignore. Plus, your body’s not a furnace—it can’t handle prolonged exposure to that kind of heat. It messes with your blood vessels, makes your heart race, drops your blood pressure. It’s like you want to dry out your skin and potentially knock yourself out.”

You throw your hands up in frustration, running your fingers through your hair. “Spencer, it’s freezing outside,” you argue.

He sighs dramatically, as if this is the least logical thing you could have possibly done. “Cold is a much better option—it buys you more time to either get to safety, or, well, succumb without experiencing rapid organ failure.”

You’re about to respond when you hear him turning on the water again—this time at a much lower temperature—and with a hasty glance over your shoulder, you quickly avert your eyes again.

You shake yourself out of the random exchange, your heart still racing. “Whatever. I’m going downstairs. I’ll meet you there.” You hurry out, hoping the quick exit will help shake the awkwardness.

Downstairs, Rossi is waiting for you in the open kitchen. He places a bottle of wine on the counter, offering you a glass with a smile. “A 2008 well-chilled Pouilly-Fuissé for the lady.”

You take it gratefully, letting out a soft sigh of relief. “Thank you. You have no idea how much I needed this.”

“Wine time already?” Emily asks, her voice filled with curiosity as she strolls over, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Every time is wine time,” Rossi replies with a wink, pouring her a glass as well.

Emily takes a sip, her sharp eyes immediately flicking over you, scanning you in that way she does when something’s off. You feel your cheeks flush, and of course, Emily notices.

“Alright,” she says, her voice dropping a notch, “spill it.”

You take a slow sip, swirling the wine in your glass. “I don’t think I should. You know, very expensive carpet and all that.”

Emily rolls her eyes but smiles. “Don’t try to outsmart me now. You’re rarely this flustered, and no—” she points a finger at you, “—you can’t blame it on the alcohol.”

You hesitate for a moment, then give in with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. Just… Can we go somewhere a little more private?”

Emily’s grin widens as she leads you to the living room, and you both sit down. “So. You’re gonna tell me why you look like a deer in headlights.”

You glance around, making sure no one’s close enough to overhear. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, you say, “I just saw… Spencer’s…”

Emily raises an eyebrow, urging you to go on.

You take a deep breath before muttering, “Penis.”

Emily almost chokes on her wine, letting out a wheeze and nearly dropping her glass.

You quickly hush her. “Oh, come on. It wasn’t a big deal.”

She recovers, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “No? So he’s…?” She makes the universal ‘small’ gesture, her fingers pinched with a tiny gap between them.

“No!” You blurt out, suddenly defensive. “No, no, not at all! He was… he was good.”

The look on Emily’s face is pure delight as she bursts into a fit of laughter. “I cannot believe this. You just—wow.”

“It really isn’t that dramatic,” you mutter, hoping to deflect the tension. “I accidentally saw him in the shower.”

Emily’s eyebrows lift slightly, an expression that mixes curiosity with a touch of amusement. “Did anything happen?” she asks with interest, aware of the dynamic between you and Spencer.

“No,” You scoff with a short, dismissive laugh. “Especially not after I almost burnt his organs to a crisp.”

Confusion flickered across her face. You see it, but before she can ask for clarification, you wave off the subject.

Emily leans back on the couch, her eyes softening as she studies you, a calm yet knowing look settling on her face. “Look, I get it,” she says, her voice lower now, almost reassuring. “This was an awkward moment, but it’s not the first time you’ve wasted an opportunity in showing him how you feel. You’ve been tiptoeing around this for long enough. Come on, it’s Spencer. If there’s one person who you should feel comfortable with to confide in, it’s him."

“I know that,” you answer, the words coming out as a quiet sigh, the weight of it all pressing down on you. “It’s just not convenient. We’re colleagues, and on top of that, great friends. If I wanted to pursue something, I should’ve done it when I first joined the team. It’s too complicated now.”

She leans in slightly, her voice becoming more direct. “It’s only complicated because you’re making it complicated. You like him, and from what I can see, he feels the same. He’s probably just waiting for you to make the first move.”

You shift uncomfortably, not meeting her eyes, your fingers tapping nervously against your knee. You want to argue, but it’s hard to deny the truth. You’ve been tiptoeing around Spencer for so long—too long—burying your feelings beneath the surface where they could never cause any disruption.

“And if you don’t do something about it,” Emily adds, her tone soft but heavy with meaning, “you’ll regret it.”

A shaky exhale escapes you, as the reality of her words sinks in. “I don’t know, Em. There’s so much that could go wrong.”

Her gaze lingers on you, but it’s not pitiful. She sees right through you—sees the fear, the hesitation, the walls you’ve built up. The truth is, you’ve spent years convincing yourself that being close to Spencer was dangerous. Not just because of your professional relationship, but because of the way he anchors you—keeps you grounded when everything else feels unstable. He’s always been there, the rock you cling to when everything else feels uncertain. And the idea of stepping into something deeper with him, risking that connection, terrifies you more than anything.

Because if you lost him—if you let yourself love him and then something happened to him... you’re not sure you’d survive the fall.

The words you’ve been avoiding finally spill out of you in a quiet, strained whisper: “I’ve kept him at a distance, you know? I’ve always kept him at arm’s length because I’m afraid of what would happen if something bad happened to him. If I opened up, fully, and let myself love him… what if I lost him, Emily?” You swallow hard, the vulnerability in your voice feeling raw, exposed. “It’s a risk I’m not willing to take.”

For a long moment, Emily says nothing. She simply watches you, her expression unreadable, but you know she’s hearing you. When she finally speaks, it’s with a calm certainty that cuts right through your fear. “There is also so much that can go right,” she encourages, the words simple but heavy. “You’re not the only one who’s afraid of losing something. He’s been walking the same tightrope for as long as you have.”

Her words linger in the space between you, the silence hanging heavy. She doesn’t look away, doesn’t let you escape the truth that’s been right in front of you all along.

You open your mouth to respond, but your throat tightens, the words getting stuck. The risk of losing him is real, but so is the risk of never knowing what could be. And the more you think about it, the more you realize that the regret of not trying, of letting fear hold you back, would hurt so much more than anything else.

Emily shifts in her seat, clearly sensing the shift in energy. “Alright, enough of the heavy stuff for now. We’re supposed to be enjoying the holiday, remember?” She glances toward the doorway where the sound of laughter and festive chatter floats in. “It’s Secret Santa time. Now just look cute and pretend you’re excited before Penelope walks in.”

You chuckle, giving Emily’s hand a light squeeze, silently thanking her for steering the conversation in a lighter direction. 

One by one, the team filters into the living room, settling into the couch and chairs. Spencer walks in last, looking effortlessly beautiful as always, his hair still damp from the shower.  He offers you a sheepish smile as he sits down beside you, and suddenly, the anxiety that’s been gnawing at you melts away. Emily was right, it’s just Spencer. Your Spencer. Everything is fine.

Penelope takes her rightful spot in front of the Christmas tree, her arms outstretched toward the pile of gifts that are scattered across the floor. Her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Alright, everyone! Get ready, because it’s time for Secret Santa!”

“How exactly are we going to go about this? Any specific rules or guidelines we should follow?” Reid asks in interest.

“I am so glad you asked,” she responds in delight. “We’re keeping it simple—because let’s be real, our brains have been on overdrive and we all need a break. Here’s the plan: We’ll go in a clockwise order starting with Emily. Everyone can pick a gift from under the tree and open it. After that, you’ll have to guess who it’s from. And once you make your guess, the Secret Santa will reveal themselves!”

“Sounds easy enough,” Emily announces as she stands up, walking toward the tree. Her eyes quickly landed on a package with her name scrawled in sharpie. She sits back down on the couch, everyone’s eyes fixed on her with eager anticipation as she tears into the wrapping. Inside, she finds a leatherbound journal with a blackbird embossed on the cover.

“I love the song,” Emily says, running her fingers over the emblem. She looks up at JJ, a knowing smile on her face. “This could be from no one but you.”

JJ smiles in return. “It’s for writing down the thoughts—and everything else—you don’t always feel like saying. Sometimes putting pen to paper helps more than we realize.”

Emily's smile softens at the gesture, touched by the thoughtfulness behind it. Next, it’s JJ’s turn. She received a sleek organizer, and as she flips it open, the first page is a collage of photos—her wedding pictures, memories of Henry, and fun moments of the team.

“Only a parent would add a page like this,” JJ says, recognizing the personal touch. She looks at Hotch, and he nods, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I figured it might help with the chaos,” Hotch replies.

“You’re all too good at this guessing game,” Penelope complains playfully. “It’s no fun when everyone’s a profiler.” She bends down to pick up her own gift, the package heavy in her hands. She sits on the floor as she unwraps it carefully.

When she sees what’s inside, her eyes widen in delight. Inside the package is a DVD player that also doubles as a radio—something you've seen in ads countless times.  “Oh my god, please tell me it has the voice,” she says, fingers hovering in excitement over the buttons. She presses one, and suddenly, Derek’s programmed voice comes from the speaker, making you snort.

“Hey, baby girl. It’s December 24th. Ready for some music?”

Penelope’s face lights up, and she squeals in delight, wrapping her arms around Derek and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re the best!”

Derek shakes his head in amusement, giving her a quick smile before rolling his eyes at Spencer, who’s watching the exchange with an almost childlike excitement. 

Next, Derek gets a ticket to Vegas. “Once we have a free weekend, I’ll take you with me on my Sin to Win weekend,” she teases, and Derek laughs, already looking forward to it.

Just then, Hotch’s phone rings. “Excuse me,” he mutters, heading to the kitchen.

Penelope pouts. “It was his turn,” she says with disappointment.

“No worries, Garcia,” Rossi reassures her with a wink. “My present will be better anyway,” he jokes, making her smile.

He unwraps his gift—a vintage bottle of whiskey—and holds it up with a grin. “See? It doesn’t get better than this.”

Laughter fills the room, but your heart is pounding as it’s now Spencer’s turn. You watch him closely, knowing that this is the moment when he’ll open your gift. It’s a small box, and as he unwraps it carefully, his fingers pause when he sees what’s inside: an exclusive Doctor Who Time Vortex watch. The watch has a leather blue strap, gold-plated Roman numerals, and the intricate inner workings of the watch are visible through the glass. You’d spend ages hunting down this piece online, fighting off a dozen eager Doctor Who nerds, and paying well above the asking price just to secure it.

“Wow…” Spencer breathes, his voice tinged with awe as he examines the watch. His eyes flicker up to meet yours, immediately knowing it’s from you.

“How did you get this?” he asks softly, his eyes full of gratitude and wonder.

You smile, trying not to overthink your response. “It wasn’t easy, but you’re worth the effort.”

A blush spreads across Spencer’s cheeks, and for a moment, the two of you share a quiet, intimate glance. Just then, Penelope’s voice interrupts. “Hey, Y/N has two gifts! That’s not how this works!”

Spencer’s eyes narrow, shooting daggers at Derek, who unapologetically shrugs.

“Ooh, I’m special!” you tease, grinning as Penelope hands you two gifts—a big one and a small one.

“Big one first,” you say, excitement bubbling in your chest as you accept the pink box with a bow on top. You rip into the paper. A red lingerie set stares back at you from under the packaging, and you throw your head back in a laugh.

A few weeks ago, Derek had come back from another late-night fling, and the conversation still echoed in your mind.

“How come women only own the same three pairs of bras?” he’d asked, genuinely perplexed.

You’d just sighed, shaking your head. “Derek, you’re lucky you don’t have boobs. Finding a bra that fits—and is affordable—is probably the hardest task one could face.”

Now, with the lingerie in your hands, you raise an eyebrow at Derek. “Do I want to know how you got my exact size?”

Derek looks over at Penelope with a sheepish grin. “I had some help from one of Santa’s elves.”

Penelope mischievously adds, “I may have hacked your computer to check out your purchases.”

You raise your hand in a dramatic, 'there you go' gesture, not at all surprised. “Of course you did.”

“Well,” you begin, looking at the box in your hands, “just know that you're never gonna see me in this.” You wave the red lace and satin teasingly in front of him, feeling a surge of amusement as Derek’s face falls in exaggerated disappointment.

You laugh, then glance over at Spencer, who’s sitting beside you. You can barely make out his muttered, “Good,” under his breath, though it’s enough to catch your attention.

You’re about to take initiative, maybe throw some playful banter his way, when the sudden sound of footsteps in the hallway cuts through the light moment. The door to the living room opens with a soft creak, and you look up as Hotch strides into the room. His jaw tight, his posture all business, and you can feel the shift in the air immediately.

“We’ve got a case. A family is murdered twenty minutes away from here.”

PART TWO

[as-sweet-as-a]

mistletoe - bau

summary; how i think the bau would react to ending up under the mistletoe with you!! merry christmas!!

Spencer;

Bright. red.

Like so incredibly red

Would get flustered so hard

“I— Well.. We—”

You’d have to initiate

“Spencer, can I kiss you?” You ask, trying not to laugh too hard

He’d nod and chuckled. “Uh, yeah..”

You’d put a hand on the back of his head and pull him in for a short but sweet kiss

If you thought it would be hard for him to get more red, you’re wrong

Derek is clapping and cheering in the back

Derek;

He’d say some stupid shit like “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” 😏😈

You’d roll your eyes as he continued throwing teasing jabs

You’d cut him off by kissing him yourself

He’d laugh smugly, hiding how flustered he actually is

Taking your face in his hands, he’d give you a playful but deeper kiss

A lot of exaggeration to make you laugh

And it worked

The kiss kept breaking because neither of you could keep a straight face

Hotch;

He’d laugh it off softly

(You know the laugh.)

He wouldn’t make a big show of it like Derek

Or get all flustered like Spencer

He's a gentleman

He’d simply lean in with a smile and peck you on the lips

He would give a pause as he pulls back, still smiling

You don’t miss the way he’d look over you

After that, he’d just go on about his day

Silently calculating the chances of the two of you ending up under the mistletoe

Rossi;

He’d look up and laugh loudly

He’d pull you in for a big hug

Arms wrapping securely around your back

He’d rock you back and forth slightly in the hug

Then, he’d give you a kiss on the cheek

Definitely an exaggerated “Mwah!” sound on the end

Gideon;

Would look up and clear his throat

He’d give you a tight-lip nod

Then he’d just hold your shoulders as he moved past you

Maybe he’d give you a quick kiss on the cheek as he passes

ALTERNATIVELY!!!

If you were like Elle or Spencer level close

I feel like maybe a hug

And a small forehead kiss

And you’d even get a smile out of him

Bless him omg

Emily;

Again, she’s laughing

I can see her either;

Pulling you in for one of those really exaggerated fake make outs

OR;

Putting her hand on your chin

She’d slowly lean in for a lingering peck

Add to cart!!

Definitely telling Derek to either stop laughing or stop cheering

JJ;

Smiling

Giving you a quick kiss

One hand on your cheek

Probably because she’s holding files or some shit in the other

Giggling a little the entire interaction

Penelope;

Giving an exaggerated laugh

Lowkey squealing a little

Once she stops with the dramatics

You’d pull her in for a quick peck

In retaliation;

She is absolutely peppering your face in kisses

Elle;

Smirking

Huffing out a laugh

She’d look at you and raise an eyebrow

Tilting her head slightly

You’d just smile and put her hands on her face

Pulling her in for a kiss Her hand is somewhere on your body

Like your hip or waist

I don’t care. I need it.

Derek is teasing the both of you before, after and during

One stern look from Elle and he’s laughing and putting his hands up in mock surrender

[emilyprentissluvr]

Three Steps Back (Don't Blame Me: Chapter 6)

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Summary: Emily knew it was wrong. She knew you were the most dangerous woman the BAU had ever seen. Yet, she couldn't seem to stay away from you.

Warnings: Typical Criminal minds stuff, mentions of death

Words: 2.8k

Emily could feel the migraine forming behind her eyes. After hours of staring at the same case files, she still couldn't find anything. She let her head drop to her desk, hoping it would just swallow her whole and then spit her out when they made a break in the case.

"...Prentiss," At the sound of her last name, her eyes flitted to the person leaning on her desk.

"Your phone," JJ finished as she pointed to the buzzing device on Emily's desk.

"Oh, right," Emily mumbled as she gave JJ a small smile of appreciation before picking up the phone.  

When she saw Y/n calling her, she returned her phone to her desk. 

"Your mother?" JJ asked as she perched on Emily's desk. 

"I wish," Emily muttered. Then, cursing under her breath as her phone started ringing again.

"Someone worse than your mother? Yikes." JJ said as she tried to discreetly see whoever was calling Emily as the brunette completely shut off her phone.

"You could say that," Emily sighed as she tossed her phone to the back of her desk.

Emily looked up and saw JJ still perched on her desk, giving her the look. Emily hated that look because it meant JJ was about to pry, and she did not want to tell the team that she was talking to a serial killer.

A small part of her knew she should at least tell Hotch, but she couldn't risk him cutting off her only means of communication with Y/n.

"Did you need something, JJ?"

"Well, I was going to ask if you wanted coffee, but now I want to know who was calling you," JJ smiled, making herself comfortable on the brunette's desk.

"It's no one," Emily rolled her eyes, "And if you're going out for coffee, I'll take my usual."

"Em, come on, who else other than your mom would make you glare at your phone like that?" JJ inquired, completely ignoring Emily's request about the coffee.

"You want a list?" Emily snarked back.

"Oh! Oh! Was it, Hannah?" JJ asked, even more interested now. 

"Wait, Hannah, as in your ex-girlfriend Hannah is calling you?" Spencer chimed in from his desk across from Emily's. 

"I thought she ghosted you," Derek added from his desk. 

The two women whipped their heads around, not even realizing that Spencer and Derek had been listening to their conversation. The glare Emily shot the younger agent made him wish he'd never spoken in the first place. Derek, on the other hand, was more than amused.

"For the fifth time, Hannah did not ghost me! It was a mutual breakup!" Emily huffed. 

"Whatever you say, princess." Derek smiled, earning him another glare from Emily. 

"The term ghosting became popular in 1990's hip hop- Ow!" Spencer yelped as Emily launched the stuffed animal cat that Penelope bought her right at Spencer's face. 

"I wasn't ghosted! And I'm done talking to you guys!" Emily frowned as she turned her chair back to her desk and ignored the three other agents.

Derek and Spencer chuckled at her antics while JJ rolled her eyes. 

"I'll be back with your coffee, Ms. Grouchy," JJ said as she pushed off Emily's desk, earning a small grumble of gratitude from the brunette.

JJ was halfway to the door when Penelope came full speed through the doors, "BAU Assemble! I've got something!" She yelled, running surprisingly fast in her high heels to the conference room.

"I guess that means no coffee," Emily grumbled as they all made their way to the round table.

As soon as everyone sat down, Penelope turned the TV monitor on and passed out numerous case files.

"In 1991, there was a serial killer that operated in rural Virginia at the same time and place that Alex Painter was murdered," Penelope explained as she pulled up pictures of about 15 women on the TV. They were all of different races but looked around the same age. 

"All of these women were kidnapped, held for a week, and then dumped in the woods. They were all beaten, barely recognizable by the time their bodies were found." Penelope continued, making a point not to look at the crime scene photos.

Rossi looked between the case files and the TV when a spark of recognition came to his eyes, "I remember this. Gideon was the lead profiler on the case. They called the killer The Wood Stalker" 

Back then, the BAU members worked solo, only using each other as consults rather than working on cases as a team. "I helped Gideon build a profile, but he never found the guy." Rossi finished.

"That's right," Penelope agreed, "In March of 1992, The Wood Stalker vanished. And with no leads or suspects, the case went cold."

Emily frowned as she looked over the case. There was something off, but she couldn't put her nose on it, "So how does Alex Painter tie into this? She's not in any of these files."

"Ah, right! Thank you for the segway, my brooding brunette," Penelope said, and no one even batted an eye, used to the technical analyst's ways by now.

"While you guys are the profilers and I am the mere but mighty technical Goddess-"

"Garcia." Hotch intervened, raising an eyebrow to keep the blonde on task.

"Right." Penelope nodded, "I found it odd that Alex Painter wasn't mentioned in any of the files, especially since she matched victimology."

"Why did they rule her out as one of his victims then?" Derek asked as he flipped through the case file. "I mean, we know now that Y/n killed her. But if all I was looking at were these files, I'd agree that The Wood Stalker killed her.  It seems negligent to not even investigate her death."

"That's what I was thinking! And we all know Gideon is very thorough." Penelope said, and a slightly uncomfortable wave washed through the room.

"That's one way to describe him," Spencer muttered as he stared down at the table. 

Rossi was about to say something in his friend's defense, but Hotch shook his head, not wanting to further the conversation.

It had been less than a year since Gideon left without a word, and the team had mostly moved on. But it was still a touchy subject, especially for Spencer. 

"So, who investigated Alex Painter's death then?" JJ asked, and everyone was thankful that she had cut the awkward silence that had fallen around them.

"Well, this is where things get even more odd," Penelope said as she pulled up the picture of Alex's file. "Detective Anthony Scott was the lead on her case. So I did some research on the guy, and to an untrained eye, he seems normal."

"Well, you are far from normal, baby girl." Morgan complimented, and Penelope smiled. "Very true. Anyways, I dug a little deeper and found that Detective Anthony Scott doesn't exist."

"What do you mean he doesn't exist?" Emily asked, a skeptical brow raised.

"I mean that someone very tech-savvy created Anthony Scott. I'm talking bank accounts, birth certificates, marriage licenses, and more." Penelope continued.

"Why would someone go through all of that trouble to cover up who investigated Alex Painter's death?" JJ asked. And once again, the team felt like they were getting into something a lot larger than they were hoping for.

"Could it have been Y/n?" Derek asked.

"Why would she try to cover up something she already told us about?" Emily countered, more defensive than she would have liked, but she would think about that later.

"Yeah, and there's no way Y/n could have created an identity that thorough. There's only a handful of people I know that could do that, but they wouldn't have any reason to." Penelope agreed. 

Emily bit her bottom lip in concentration; she knew what this sounded like. Fake identities that seemed too good to be true. Seemingly unimportant cases swept under the rug...this had CIA written all over it.  And if the CIA was involved, it meant that whatever information they had now was all they were going to find. 

But how on earth did the CIA get connected to all of this?

Maybe she could make a couple of phone calls. Contact some of her old handlers and see if they could find anything pertaining to this case. 

"Why aren't Gideon's notes in here?" Hotch asked, pulling Emily out of her head as she realized she had missed whatever the rest of the team was talking about.

"Well, since it was before I came to the BAU, his notes weren't digitalized. And when I went down to the archives, almost everything about this case was gone." Penelope said regretfully as she took a seat, having no more information to give the team.

"His notes should still be in there, though. The case is still classified." Spencer said, and it affirmed even more to Emily that the CIA or some other agency has something to do with this.

"I feel like there's dead ends everywhere we turn with this case," JJ muttered, and the team silently agreed.

"I know we all feel a little discouraged, but we are further than we were yesterday. I'll call Gideon and have him come in as soon as possible. Hopefully, he can provide us with more information. But for now, let's get back to work," Hotch said quickly before dismissing himself to his office, leaving the team in a little shock. Hotch was never one to give a pep talk, so maybe this was even worse than they imagined.

"I'll give Gideon a call, too," Rossi said as he left for his office, not wanting to see the other agents' reactions. It was an odd situation, the complex feelings he had for his friend were different than those of the younger agents. 

But Gideon was also one of Rossi's oldest friends, and after everything they'd been through, he still had respect and loyalty to him. So, he did not want to hear what the other agents had to say about him.

"Has anyone talked to Gideon recently?" Penelope asked in the conference room, trying to break the ice since the topic of Gideon was now unavoidable.

"Since he left all of us with a note?" Spencer asked sarcastically, a tone that surprised everyone, "No," He continued as he gathered his stuff and practically stormed back to his desk without looking at anyone else.

"I was just..." Penelope trailed off sadly, not having predicted that reaction from the youngest profiler.

"It's not your fault, Pen, it's just a hard subject for him," JJ said as she squeezed Penelope's shoulder.

Emily had stayed relatively quiet on any subject that involved Gideon. She shared vastly different opinions on the older agent than her friends did.

She knew that Gideon didn't like her. In fact, everyone knew, because it wasn't like he tried to hide his disdain. 

Towards the end, he tolerated her, but the way he left and the effect it had on everyone just solidified her dislike of him, not that she would ever voice that aloud.

"I'll go talk to him," Derek said before leaving the room and leaving the three women to themselves.

It was silent for a moment before Emily's phone started to buzz. She sighed and ignored the look JJ sent her as she picked up her phone. 

Y/n (1:34 PM): Call me back tonight. I have a surprise for you.

Emily (1:34 PM): I don't like surprises. 

Emily typed back before pocketing her phone. She heard her phone buzz again, no doubt another text message from Y/n, but she did not want to deal with this right now.

"What was that?" Penelope asked as she motioned her hand towards Emily. 

"What was what?" Emily played dumb with a shrug.

"Don't even try, Pen. She's been like this all day." JJ rolled her eyes.

"Who is causing you to glare at your phone like that?" Penelope pressed, ignoring JJ.

"It's no one," Emily said as she grabbed her case files and started to stand up, not looking at either blonde.

"Emily! Indulge me in something that is not this case!" Penelope begged, always the one to get into people's business.

Emily scoffed, finding it quite ironic that the person she was texting was the reason for this case. "It's a personal matter."

"Even better!" Penelope continued, earning a stifled laugh from JJ. 

She rolled her eyes, knowing that no one was going to give this up any time soon, "Fine, you know what? It is Hannah! Now, can everyone just mind their own business?!"

"Hannah unblocked you?!"

"What? How do you know she blocked me?!" Emily gaped at Penelope and then instantly realized that was a stupid question.

"Never mind. I'm done talking. And stop hacking into my phone!" Emily practically growled before exiting the room, leaving the two blondes wide-eyed.

"Well, we know it's not Hannah," Penelope said, earning her a slap to the shoulder.

"She's going to kill you," JJ said as she gathered her stuff, and Penelope just shrugged it off. Emily had always been all bark and no bite. She was a secret softie once you got to know her.

"Where are you going?" Penelope pouted, not wanting to be left alone.

"I'm going to buy her a coffee before she kills me too."

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

It was after eight by the time Emily unlocked her apartment door. The team had been working nonstop for hours, but it felt like the more they uncovered, the more questions that arose.

Eventually, Hotch sent everyone home, stating that they should just wait for Gideon to tell them everything he knew before jumping to conclusions.

But Hotch and Rossi were having trouble reaching Gideon, and if they couldn't contact him, then this shitstorm of a case was going to take even longer to solve.

So when Emily fell onto her couch, she didn't even have the energy to take off her shoes, let alone cook anything. She stared at the ceiling for a solid five minutes before remembering Y/n's text.

She reached for her phone and opened Y/n's text from earlier in the day that she never looked at.

Y/n (1:35 PM): I promise you'll like this one.

Emily sighed as she debated whether or not she should call the younger woman. 

Ultimately, she gave in, knowing, at the very least, Y/n would reveal something new.

She quickly dialed her number before she could talk herself out of it.

"I was wondering when you were going to call," Y/n answered after the third ring, a cocky smile evident in her face.

"It was a long day at work, thanks to you," Emily answered shortly as she sat up fully on the couch, crossing her legs under her.

"To me? So you're thinking about me all day long?" Y/n grinned. Something was going on in the background of wherever Y/n was, but Emily couldn't decipher what it was.

"Don't flatter yourself. The only reason I'm thinking about you is because you've murdered 300 people." Emily scoffed.

"300 men, not people." Y/n corrected. 

"What about Alex Painter? She wasn't a man."

"Really? Is that all you've got on her so far?" Y/n chuckled. 

"Pretty much. And you knew that the information you gave us would only lead to dead ends." Emily remarked. 

"Alls fair in love and war, darling. And besides, I thought the BAU was the best. I have to say, you guys are disappointing me."

"Disappointing you?! That's rich," Emily scoffed and was reminded once again that she was talking to a psychopath.

"It is rich! Because I'm starting to get bored, and you know what happens when I get bored." Y/n started, and Emily heard the sound of a door slam on the younger woman's side of the phone.

"What was that?" Emily asked as she sat up a bit straighter, a knot starting to form in her stomach.

"It's your surprise! Or did you forget why I told you to call me?" Y/n smiled. 

"I told you, I don't like surprises." Emily gritted out as she heard the sound of a scuffle on the other end of the phone.

"Oh, you'll like this one!" Y/n chuckled, and then Emily heard the sound of a gunshot. 

"Y/n!" Emily gaped as she stood up, hoping this wasn't what she thought it was.

"His name is Howard Barnes. Oh, wait! My bad, his name was Howard Barnes." Y/n chuckled.

Emily was frozen for a moment; her usual fast thinking was nowhere to be found. 

"Don't worry, Emily. He's not your gift. He's just some perv that needed to die before he hurt anyone else. Your surprise is on his kitchen counter; I think you'll like it." Y/n smiled as she branded the angel wind behind the dead man's ear.

"I'm going to find you," Emily said, finally out of her frozen state as she shrugged her coat on and grabbed her gun from her safe.

"You have such a way with words," Y/n laughed, "Also, say hello to Gideon for me. And tell him I'm not afraid of the dark anymore." Y/n finished, and with that, she hung up.

Emily paused as she took the words in. 

Y/n knew Gideon? 

So Gideon had to have been involved in Alex Painter's investigation. Further proving that someone wanted this case covered up. 

But why?

Christ, everything is even more confusing now, Emily thought as she dialed Hotch's number.

"Hotch." He answered on the first ring.

"Y/n killed again. We need to figure out where Howard Barnes lived," Emily said quickly, trying not to think about the future conversation she was bound to have with Hotch, explaining all of this.

This was going to be a huge mess.

[bucker3911]

[natti-ice]

18+ mdni

that reality check hitting after reading smut

[flow33didontsmoke]

when y/n does something so bad/embarrassing you have to facepalm and close your eyes for a minute

[colmiillo]

me acting like I just didn't read the most filthy nasty hot smut fic of my life

[l0caltiredgirl]

when i want fluff/angst fics and all i’m getting is smut

the struggle is real

[in-another-april]

bitches will be like “this is my comfort show” and its a show where the characters have never felt a day of comfort in their lives (its me im bitches)

[cxrrodedcoffin]

me after spending 6 hours reading criminal minds fanfiction instead of sleeping:

[ddejavvu]

Could you do a criminal minds x reader where reader is viewed as super sweet and dresses brighter and stuff like Penelope but one day they have to come in like super late/by surprise so everyone is in their normal clothes and the bau sees that reader has a big ass, super cool tattoo? And they’re all surprised and stuff

You're looking less-than professional in your backless halter top when you take your seat at the round table, but no one bats an eye until you stand from the chair to leave. Hotch's call of 'Wheels up in 20' means that the room clears as everyone hunts for their gobags, and the second you turn your back to your coworkers a litany of reactions fill the space.

Of course, the most dramatic is from Garcia, but you hear enough to count all of your coworkers, except one. Hotch's brows are raised when you turn back to see them, though - apparently he's not above being startled.

"Woah, hot stuff," Prentiss calls, a grin spreading over her face, "You've got some nice ink back there!"

"I didn't know you had tattoos," JJ muses, staring at you with curious amusement like she's recalculating your image in her mind, "That's really intricate. I like it."

"Oh, it's-" You reach a hand up to stroke awkwardly over the inked skin, "I kind of forgot you'd never seen it before."

"Turn around again!" Garcia gushes, "I wanna look at it."

You spin on command, and Hotch and Rossi are kind enough not to gawp with the others, passing you on their way to the door.

"You've got guts, kid," Rossi grimaces, "I've been in a lot of pain before, but I don't know if I'd willingly sit there for all of that."

"I wouldn't," Hotch shakes his head with a good-natured smile, "Haley and I got small, matching ones in college, and I had a hard time with that one."

"Is that based off of Norse mythology?" Spencer pokes his head around your shoulder to stare bright-eyed at you, "Some of the symbols remind me of-"

"It's just a sick-ass tattoo, Reid." Morgan shoves at his shoulder. peering avidly at the art, "Don't ruin this for everyone."

Reid takes the shove like a champion, smiling kindly, albeit awkwardly at you as he moves for the door himself, "I like it."

"Thanks, Reid," You call, flinching slightly as a hand traces one of the symbols on your back.

"Ooh! Sorry, pumpkin," Garcia calls, the hand drawn away in a flash, "I got too grabby. I just think it's really cool," she takes your hand, leading you towards the door while the others follow to continue staring at your tattoo, "I'd show you my own body art, but it's not really in a spot that I can display in the workplace."

"Well this I've gotta see," Morgan teases, "Let's all huddle in the bathroom on the jet, babygirl, and see what you're hiding."

"It is not for your eyes, Derek Morgan," She huffs, though she's grinning at his attempt. The look in her eyes suggests that the tattoo is not for his eyes because it's something to do with him, and you're eager to giggle over whatever part of her body she's tatted 'babygirl' over later.

For now, though, you rifle through your gobag and shrug on a cardigan, effectively covering your back and its ink.

"It is a crying shame to cover up that artwork," Prentiss laments, "I bet it looks awesome peeking over tank tops."

"You'll see it again at the hotel," You laugh, "I have plans to use the jacuzzi before we leave."

"A jacuzzi sounds fantastic," JJ sighs, "But let's all of us agree that Morgan isn't invited - I wanna see Garcia's tattoo."

[pillowprincess4logan]

" We're looking for a white male, approximately mid to late 30s, between 5"6 to 6"2 "

" wheels up in 30 "

[guiltyc0nscience]

elle greenaway and spencer reid:

[thegirlinmaroonsweater]

Do y'all remember that one episode when Elle got arrested in Jamaica and Hotch have to fly there to take her in bail.

The moment he walked into that room he took in Elle's outlook (because she was arrested in her night dress) without missing a beat he removed his jacket and offered it to her.

That's it, that's the bar. That's what I look for in men.

I look for Aaron hotchener in men.

[patrickispinky]

Derek: are you the big spoon or the little spoon?

Emily: i'm the knife

Jj: *from across the room* she's the little spoon