#emily drabble

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Baby Fever [Emily x Reader]

Photo Credits Left and Right (@meditando-en-paris) Center (@emily12o1970)

Prompt: The reader asks Emily if she wants to have a baby together. While this is a surprise, Emily has a little question of her own for the reader.

Pairing: [established relationship] Emily x Non-BAU!reader. The Reader uses she/her pronouns 

Category: fluff/comfort

Word Count: 6.8K

Content Warnings: Slight angst, talk of getting pregnant, food and alcohol are mentioned, implied intimacy, discussion of politics. If I missed any, please let me know.  

A/N: Hi all! I’m so sorry it’s been a while since I’ve posted any fics in a while. The end of the semester has been wildly busy. However, I return with an Emily fic for @imagining-in-the-margins March and April writing challenge. I made my own prompt that is, a member of the couple isn’t sure they’ll make a good parent; they are reassured by a friend that they will be perfect. This is a continuation of my Moschino and Muddy Water series. You can find parts one, two, three, and four here (linked) You can read this as a stand-alone as well, you just need to know the reader works for a senator. This story kind of humbled me and challenged me as it took a long time to write and I needed to do lots of edits on it. But that is a good reminder for me. Writing can be hard, but it is worth the result to see you can come what you can come up with. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories 

y/n = your name 

y/s/t = your skin tone 

_y/f/s_ = your favorite scent

Emily walked into the living room of her apartment. y/n and she had recently repainted it a neutral beige that Derek had described as “sad sand” at brunch with Penelope, Spencer, JJ, and Will last month. y/n had nearly choked on her drink as he made the remark. It had been y/n’s idea to repaint their space to a more relaxing color. When y/n had suggested it, Emily had said, “Oh, what brought this on lover? Wasn’t it you last week who mentioned the security deposit on this place?” Em liked teasing y/n about these things because y/n was always a little more impulsive about things. Their dynamic remained light despite the hectic nature of their jobs. The ability to relax and joke in their off time kept both y/n and Prentiss sane. However, they were good at reading each other, most of the time. When things felt heavy or the job was pushing them to the edge of a breakdown, the jokes and teasing went out the window. 

Only once had y/n made a joke in poor taste about a case that Emily had not yet fully described, and the tall brunette had snapped. y/n had looked at her girlfriend with shock. Prentiss never spoke to her in this tone nor with the angry expression she had on her face. The silence in the room after Emily's outburst was deafening. Emily instantly felt guilty for how she had reacted. Prentiss cleared her throat and tried to apologize, but y/n said, “Save it. I need a minute.” y/n had moved back to their room and closed the door, and burst into tears. ‘A minute’ turned out to be a long sleepless night for the couple. y/n tossed and turned and wondered if she was overreacting and what she had missed about Emily when she came in with her go-bag. She had seemed fine to y/n as she came in with a smile and normal attitude. Meanwhile on the couch, Emily wondered why she had reacted with such venom. y/n was only trying to lighten the mood, and she hadn’t said how horrible she felt. If she had, Emily knew y/n would hug her and kiss her and make her feel better inside of cracking a joke. Prentiss sat up and looked out the open window onto to the street as a few cars drove by. Emily wondered what brought those driving out so late. Who were they and where they were going? She wondered if they were happy. She slumped back into the couch cushions and missed the warmth of y/n’s snuggled up in front of her and the cool feel of their sheets over them. 

In the morning, both Em and y/n had gotten up at the same time. Prentiss moved into their room which she found unlocked. y/n looked up at her. Em could see that she had been crying and the lack of sleep on y/n’s face. Before Prentiss could say anything, y/n stated, “I’m sorry, Emily. I’m sorry for how I acted. Immature and like a child. You didn’t deserve that.” Emily dropped her head and replied, “I’m sorry too. It was wrong of me to shout at you like that. You were just trying to make me happy.” y/n swallowed and said, “I was, but I must have been missing something. Would you tell me about the case, or what caused you to act like that?” 

Prentiss nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed taking y/n’s hand in hers. “Yes. Let me explain. Thank you for giving me the time and care to listen.” After a long conversation, the pair set up some boundaries about not keeping things inside after cases for Emily and taking time to check in after she got home for y/n. y/n knew Emily had been acting okay, but in reality, she wasn't. y/n noted that if she was in Emily’s shoes, she might want to laugh after work and a case and y/n thought Emily might feel the same way. So after they had talked and kissed and made up, they both felt a bit crusty and decided to take a shower together. 

It felt wonderful as Emily’s strong hands moved down her y/s/t’ed shoulders and back. The soap suds moved down y/n’s back and Prentiss rubbed them over her lush behind and thighs. y/n sighed into the touch. When Emily had finished rinsing y/n off, y/n turned and had Em face the water. y/n placed a dollop of her shampoo that smelled of rose and juniper berry in her palm. Prentiss smiled as y/n’s fingers brushed through her silky dark strands of hair massaging her scalp and then making sure that all of her locks were coated in shampoo before turning Em to rinse off her shoulder-length hair. After a few more minutes the water started running tepid, and y/n and Emily got out and dried off. They spent the rest of the Saturday morning lounging around and getting coffee from the fancy place two blocks over. It felt lovely to be back and not have an argument hanging over them. As y/n opened the door for Prentiss, she thought about how they worked together. They had their moments and arguments like any couple, but all in all, they were steady. It seemed that steady was something new to both of them, and it made them happy and secure in one another. It had made y/n so happy and secure that it had got her thinking about roots, about the future. 

A few weeks later, y/n woke up early and realized that Emily was up. She snapped her laptop shut. The sound had Em turn around and look at y/n with just a hint of concern in her dark eyes. y/n smiled and got out of her seat saying, “Good morning, baby. How did you sleep?” Emily’s face broke into a soft smile and she replied, “I slept well. I love it when you’re the big spoon. It makes me sleep like a baby.” y/n got up and wrapped Em in a hug and whispered in her ear, “Well, I’ll have to do that more often then.” y/n inhaled her smell and tried to hide the blush on her face before pulling back and saying, “Do you want some breakfast and coffee? Or maybe a mimosa. I feel like cooking something if you want.” Prentiss nodded and said, “I think I could go for some blueberry or chocolate chip waffles if you’re down to make them.” y/n nodded and replied, “Of course. What are we feeling for drinks?” Em let out a small laugh and said, “Well, how about I make us lattes and you pop open some prosecco? We’ve still got juice in the fridge too. I’ll get the glasses.” y/n nodded knowing that Emily didn’t like popping corks --  a quirk that y/n thought was so cute. Em turned away to get the fluted glasses for the mimosas and while her back was turned she considered how y/n had been acting the last few days. It was like she was holding some secret. When y/n’s computer was in front of her, y/n always seemed to close it quickly or move it so she couldn’t see the screen. It wasn’t only that. Sometimes she was on the phone and talking quietly to someone she didn’t know. The pit in Emily’s stomach grew. And yet when she looked back at y/n who was humming her new favorite song while pulling eggs out from the middle row of the fridge. 

This was so unlike y/n to hide things from her. When it had first happened, Emily thought that maybe y/n was cheating but that wasn’t something that y/n would do unless she had really misread her girlfriend and their relationship wasn’t going anywhere. This bothered Prentiss because she was planning on asking y/n to marry her in a month on their second anniversary. Even if things weren’t good with them, which y/n’s behavior indicated otherwise, Prentiss was uncomfortable with y/n hiding things from her. Em had a good way of feeling out people, and y/n had seemed more excited to be with her recently, so all of the messages both verbal and nonverbal were throwing her for a loop. Prentiss was going to talk to JJ and Penelope about it on Monday to see if they had any insight into what was going on. At this point, y/n and the rest of the girls on the BAU were thick as blood. Em took a breath and decided to not let her self-doubt ruin their relationship. She had let that happen before, and even though it had turned out to be a good thing, Emily didn’t want to do that here. She loved y/n, and she knew y/n loved her. If y/n needed to tell her something, Emily knew she would, even if it was something difficult to hear. Prentiss fixed her face and took a breath before setting the glasses on the counter for y/n who leaned in and gave her a kiss before she moved to the coffee maker. 

y/n started mixing up the waffle batter. y/n didn’t like keeping things from Emily, but this was such a big subject to even bring up, and she wanted to have all of the facts beforehand. Not so that she could try and argue her point with Emily, but so she was sure it was what she wanted. But the more y/n looked at their options of getting pregnant, the firmer y/n was about her desire to start a family with Em. It was a conversation they had had before. A shared desire to have kids and raise them in a house full of love and tenderness that neither y/n nor Emily had had as children growing up on opposite sides of the globe. So the topic of wanting kids wouldn’t be a shock, just how quickly y/n was bringing it up. And if Emily said she needed more time, y/n would wait, but she couldn’t deny that her baby fever was growing thanks to JJ’s pregnancy and some recent laws passing. The whole idea made y/n’s stomach flutter in both delight and worry. Thankfully y/n was almost ready to tell Em, and again there would be no secrets to hold, just a future to plan, whatever that looked like for them. 

         The following Monday at work, Emily found Penelope in her office with its room full of screens and trinkets. Prentiss smiled at how Garcia’s personality shone through wherever she was. Em found the tech whizz inspirational in that way and many others. Garcia was busy typing something on her laptop and Emily had called her name twice already. Without any other options apart from pulling the plug on one of Penelope's babies, Emily tapped her on the shoulder instead. The genius shot out of her seat and Prentiss was eternally grateful that Gacria wasn’t holding one of her large cups of soda. “My God Emily, are you trying to get me out of my skin?” Penelope retorted when she had caught her breath. Em smiled and said, “It was that, or pull the plug on your computer. I thought you’d appreciate the latter. I did call your name twice.” Garcia let out a shaky laugh and said, “Okay, well lord, I have to stop listening to music so loud when I’m at work. Hotch got mad at me for it once already and somehow he’s always right because I don’t want to be scared like that again. So what brings you to my cave today dear? Need me to cast a love spell on you?” Prentiss laughed and replied, “Well I’m okay on that front. A clarification spell might be more in order. Are you back on the RPG game again?” Garcia blushed and said, “Maybe, maybe not. Anyhow, does the team need my presence?” Em nodded her head no, sat down on the ledge of Penelope's table, and said, “Not right now. I was just wondering if y/n had talked to you recently. She’s been acting kind of strange in the last three weeks and I just wanted to know if she has something planned?” 

Penelope was buzzing in her seat because she had an answer but had promised y/n that she wouldn’t say anything to Emily about it. y/n had discreetly asked around the office if anyone knew someone who had IVF treatments before and would be willing to talk candidly about the process, how much it cost, and the pros and cons of the procedure. The only other person who did know someone who had gone through In Vitro Fertilization was Rossi, but Dave didn’t think that person would want to discuss such an intimate part of their lives with a stranger, even if it was a friend of his. However, Penelope had a good friend named Shayla back from her college days who was now a happy single mom and had moved to the Virginia area last year for a new job with her little boy. y/n had met Shayla once before, and when Garcia brought her up as a possibility, y/n almost begged her to ask Shayla if she was comfortable talking about the long process. When Pen brought it up in their next catch-up call, Shayla happily agreed to share her knowledge. She had done plenty of research before deciding to move forward with having a child on her own, understood the great sacrifice and fears that could come with it, and was happy to give any helpful information she had. Of course, this conversation had prompted Penelope to ask y/n why she was asking and y/n had revealed that she was thinking of asking Emily to have a baby with her. Garcia had freaked out, jumping up and down in excitement. y/n had to stop her from running out of the room and shouting at anyone that her friend was getting pregnant. Once the blonde analyst had settled down, y/n took a breath and said, “Now Penelope. I know you’re excited but I’m just in the research stage which sounds calculated when I put it like that, I haven’t told Emily about this yet and I need to be sure I feel confident before I spring this on her. Could you please please, please not tell her?” Garcia nodded seriously and said, “My lips are sealed. I pinky promise.” y/n let out a sigh of relief. 

But as Garcia was faced with Emily now, it wasn’t as easy as telling y/n her secret was safe. It was threatening to burst out of her seams and she needed to come up with an excuse fast or risk losing a dear friend in y/n. Penelope cleared her throat and said, “Hey, Em. I kinda stayed up all night playing that game and well as you can see I’m running numbers for Stan’s team….” She gave her best pleading eyes that seemed to work on everyone. Prentiss let out a soft laugh and replied, “Alright, What flavor do you want grape, Cola, or orange?” Pen smiled brightly and said, “Orange, please. You are a lifesaver!” Emily patted her on the top of her blond head and said, “Well just hope Hotch or JJ doesn’t call a new case while I’m gone. You should get someone to install controls or something on your system at home to stop you from staying up twenty-four-seven.” Garica scoffed, looked at Emily’s retreating form, and said, “Baby, if anyone could crack into my harddrive, I’d let them.” As Emily moved out of the office and toward the 7-11 to get Penelope’s soda, she felt relieved. Not that she fully believed nothing was happening with y/n, but if the team hadn’t noticed anything, then, it made her feel better. Once Emily was out of sight, Penelope whipped out her phone and texted y/n: “Emily is asking questions, baby girl. I’d start thinking about asking her soon or she might find out what you’re doing.” 

The week moved by quickly with lots of paperwork for Emily and the start of a new campaign cycle for y/n who moaned about it as much as possible without being annoying to Em. It didn’t help that the senator y/n worked with had gotten themselves into another scandal that was rocking their office and party. When y/n was going on a rant about corruption on Friday night Emily hugged her from behind, kissed her temple, and said, “I’m sorry sweetheart. I know it’s annoying, but you're good at your job even if it’s a bad system. But that doesn’t make you bad.” y/n relaxed into Prentiss’s embrace. y/n let out a sigh and said, “I’m sorry for going off. I know it’s annoying.” Emily nuzzled her face into y/n’s neck to relax her further as she whispered, “Don’t apologize y/n. Work can be agonizing sometimes, I know that as much as anyone. If it bothers me I'll tell you. Now, how about we do something fun tomorrow? We could get brunch at that place we like in midtown. You know the place where you asked me out officially?” y/n’s face broke out into a smile and she said, “I’d love that Em. Sorry if I’ve been a little distant right now. I’ve been thinking about some things and I want to share them with you in the morning. It’s nothing bad or anything, but something I just want to discuss with you. You’re everything to me love, and I’m so happy we’re together.” Prentiss’s heart fluttered knowing that y/n was finally going to tell her what was going on. Her words were reassuring, that it ‘wasn't’ bad’ or ‘anything bad about her,’ but even so, her nerves sang inside as they both headed to bed. 

In the morning, y/n woke up slightly early for a Saturday and got into a hot shower. She washed her body in _y/f/s_ed body wash. She then moved to her hair and shampooed and conditioned it. Lastly y/n shaved so her legs were smooth. When she stepped out of the shower, Emily was up. y/n walked into their room in a towel, and Em looked up from the bed, Her brown eyes got wider and she said, “Well, good morning, love?” y/n smiled and said, “Morning sweetheart.” y/n dropped her towel, and lazily crawled on the bed. Emily followed her with her eyes and her tongue slipped out of her mouth and wetted her lower lip subconsciously. y/n grinned and moved over Emily’s body and kissed her gently at first and then with more passion. Em snaked her hands around y/n’s hips. Once y/n’s tongue was slipped into Emily’s mouth, her fingers moved to y/n’s hair and tugged it gently at the root. After y/n and Prentiss were desperate for air, y/n pulled away and moved onto her knees before saying, “Maybe we should get dressed or we’ll miss brunch sweetheart.” Emily whined and said, “Do we have to?” y/n laughed and replied, “I think so. I’m in need of a good mimosa and waffle. Plus, we can get right back to this when we get back if we want.” Emily sat up and brushed her thumb over y/n’s jaw before saying, “Alright love. Give me a few minutes to get ready and we can go. It’s good if we go sooner though because you know how crazy that place gets after 11:00.” y/n nodded in agreement as she moved to the closet to pick out a spring dress and some matching jewelry while Emily used the bathroom and vanity to get ready. Emily chose a pink jumpsuit that fit her curves perfectly and was strapless showing off her lovely shoulders and neck. 

y/n and Emily got to the restaurant before the big rush and were seated outside at a quiet corner table surrounded by a fence and hedge that gave the space a cool and calm feeling away from the bustle inside and the rush of cars outside. A waiter came and got their drink orders and while he was there, Emily and y/n also ordered pain au chocolat. Emily got a glass of white wine and y/n got a pomegranate mimosa, and they both got coffee. The lean man noted what they wanted and moved away. The wait time at this spot was longer giving people time to relax and talk. y/n looked at Emily wondering if she should start the conversation. Emily returned y/n’s smile, her face looking radiant in the glow of the midmorning sun. Prentiss shifted in her seat and said, “You’ve been looking so happy the last few days. Whatever it is you have to tell me I just want to say I’m so happy to see you like this. I wish every day could be like this. That there wasn’t the stress or worry of our jobs looming over us. But you make me feel safe and seen every day, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

Once Emily said the words aloud, the idea in her head sprang so full and bright that she felt like she might be bowled over by a small breeze. The idea had been there for a few months but she hadn’t planned it. Certainly hadn’t even dreamed of it being like this, but it felt so right. When she looked over at y/n who was clearly saying something, Emily thought for a brief moment that she might be looking at the sun, blinding it it’s light and radiance. Prentiss cleared her throat and mind and finally heard y/n repeat, “Are you alright darling? You were in your own world there for a second.” Emily nodded now knowing what she was going to do and said, “Yeah I’m good. I just had an idea. So I suppose I have something to tell you too. But you go first. What was it you were wanting to tell me today that you’ve been so secretive about?” y/n blushed and felt better now that they both were going to say something, though she had no idea what Emily had up her sleeve. y/n replied, “Well why don’t you go first.” Prentiss shot back teasingly, “No you first.” They repeated this one more time before they both blurted out at the same time: 

“I want to have a baby with you.” 

“I want to marry you.” 

When Emily and y/n both registered what the other had said they were stunned into silence. y/n felt her chest tighten with emotions that threatened to bubble over. She composed herself first and asked in awe, “Emily Prentiss, are you proposing to me right now?” Emily took a shallow breath in at what y/n had said about wanting a baby and y/n’s question and, she said, “I am, sweetheart. It just felt right right now. I don’t want to spend another day without you being mine in the most real way possible. Time just goes by so fast and as soon as we know it we’ll both be grey and have bad knees. We’re both gone so often from each other so I’d like you to be mine if you’re willing to be. y/n, will you marry me?” Emily got out of her chair and onto one knee. Again she was glad they were in a quieter part of the restaurant. y/n nodded her head yes and fell to her knees next to Em embracing her in a hug and saying, “Yes, Oh of course I will. I love you so much, I want my whole life with you.” They both stayed there for a moment on the brick floor before Emily raised her head from y/n’s shoulder wiping her own eyes of the salty liquid at her corneas before pulling back and helping y/n to her feet. They hugged properly with a tight embrace that said they would never be apart for longer than they had to be, and even when they were apart, they would still be together. Em pulled back and said, “I’m sorry I don’t have a ring for you, but it just felt right to ask you now. I promise I’ll get you one that’s just perfect.” y/n smiled and said, “I know whatever you pick out will be perfect love.” She leaned in and planted her mouth on Emily’s and they both let go of each other with a feeling of lightness and ecstasy that neither had expected this morning in bed. Just as they both sat down, the waiter returned with their pastries and drinks on a tray. He set all the plates and glasses down and said he’d be back in a bit to see if they needed anything else. 

Once he had gone, y/n and Emily raised their glasses to their engagement and y/n said, “To the best fiance I could ever ask for!” As they clinked glasses Em added, “And to my favorite person in the whole world.” They both took sips of their drinks and what y/n had said resurfaced to the front of Prentiss’s mind after the euphoria of y/n saying yes to her proposal dimmed slightly. Em leaned forward and asked, “y/n you want to have a baby?” y/n flushed and nodded sheepishly. Suddenly talking to Emily about this made her feel nervous. With a steadying breath y/n replied, “Not just a baby Em. I want to have your baby. I’ve been researching reciprocal IVF. Looking up what the procedure is like for both parties, how expensive it is, and where there are clinics nearby that we could visit and consult with. I even went as far as talking to some people who’ve done it before to see how their experience was for them. That’s what I’ve been researching for the last few weeks. And I know this sounds so fast. Like I’m rushing. I don’t mean to pressure you into making a choice now or next week or month or even year. I just want you to know that I’d love to build a life with you. A life that might include children in the future if that’s something you're interested in. I just wanted to have all the facts I could about what that would possibly be like before springing something this big on you” Emily absorbed the information and took a sip of her drink. She said with a smile, “Look at you doing your research. Not that you don’t research, but I think we’re rubbing off on each other. You’re making me more comfortable in making big moves like proposing while I’m making you research a topic as much as possible.” y/n laughed and said, “Well, I guess that makes us pretty compatible, huh.” Emily chuckled and continued to think about what y/n had just said. 

It wasn’t something they had talked about recently, but children was a topic of discussion they had had and it made Emily relieved to know that y/n left that secure in their relationship that it was something she was seriously thinking about. Now that they were engaged, it only made more sense, even though y/n couldn’t have known that coming into today. For a moment Emily pictured y/n cradling their baby, and then a toddler running around their apartment, and the child grown up and going off to school. Prentiss pulled herself from the film playing in her head. As lovely an image as it was, it was a lot to think about. She lifted her eyes up to y/n’s nervous gaze. Prentiss moved her right hand to y/n’s and held it across the table saying, “I think that’s a beautiful idea y/n. It is a lot to think about. I do appreciate that you’re comfortable enough to tell me something that’s really important to you. Would you mind if I give it some time to think through?” y/n squeezed Emily’s palm and replied, “Take all the time you need love. There’s no rush.” Prentiss felt a surge of warmth move through her not associated with the fact that she was sitting in the sun. Having someone as passionate and who understood her so well was the best thing that could have happened to her. Emily did wonder if something had prompted y/n into her desire for children. She’d never been one to have baby fever before now and the shift was interesting to her. 

Emily watched y/n sip her drink and relax in her chair a bit. Prentiss asked, “Sweetheart, what sparked your desire for kids if anything? Or did it just sort of happen?” y/n sighed and said, “It’s been coming for a while I think, but things have made it speed up for me I suppose.” Emily nodded her head as if to say, “Keep going, love.” y/n placed her palms flat on the table and continued, “I guess that so much crazy stuff has been happening in the country recently. I know you know that. We both do as we work in the government, but the upturning of Roe V. Wade and all the crazy abortion bans popping up all over the place. I suppose I just don’t want to be too late. Like one day we both decided it was time and by then we didn’t even have that option. I don’t mean to sound melodramatic or to push you in any way, we have time, it’s just made me prioritize some things in my life that I hadn’t given too much thought to before now. I mean if Alabama can almost stop IVF then I’m afraid of what might come after that. I suppose having a child became more important to me the more things like that happen here.” 

Emily gave a soft smile, she could more fully see where y/n was coming from and it made sense with her personality. Em moved her hand across the table and stroked her cheek gently before saying, “That makes sense darling. I’m going to have to think about it for a while before we do anything, but maybe when we get home, you can tell me a bit more about the process, and the cost. If we commit to something like this we’re going to need to be saving for some time.” y/n chuckled and said, “Take all the time you need darling. We can save money for that and a wedding too.” Emily paused and said, “Do you mind if I don’t tell the team right away about the engagement? I just want to get a ring and have it be a bit more put together because once I tell them, we’re going to be swamped with questions from JJ, Garcia, and Rossi.” y/n snorted and covered her mouth at how accurate Emily was. She could picture that conversation happening and how Garica would pounce on Em and then how she’d get ten calls for Penelope and then some texts and another call from Dave congratulating her. Since y/n had gotten to know the team more, Rossi had become a father figure which made her heart warm. y/n replied, “Yes, of course sweetheart. That will be a day to remember. Almost as exciting as getting to say yes to you Mrs. Prentiss.” 

Shortly after this their waiter came back and got them a second round of drinks and they ordered some plates to share. The weekend flew by as always, and Emily showed up at Quantico with an excited air about her. The team slowly rolled into the bullpen on work days like they normally did. Em and JJ passed through security at the same time, and JJ who was now very pregnant asked Prentiss, “You seem preoccupied today. Is something up?” Emily tried to stay cool and said, “Nope, well apart from the fact that y/n and I had a late night last night.” Em gave JJ a wink and JJ shot her a sly smile replying, “Well that would make you pretty tired I suppose.” Emily laughed and the two women moved up to their floor. Prentiss hadn’t been lying about y/n and her last night. They’d spent a few pleasurable hours both in the shower and the bed solidifying their bond. Telling one truth and omitting two others felt better than a flat-out lie. Emily was a mix of emotions today and it did make her feel and perhaps look different which she was trying to hide. She was incredibly happy about the unofficial engagement but nervous about y/n’s question. It was more than a question, it was a whole new part of their life if they pursued it. Emily spent a good deal of the morning telling Spencer and Penelope that nothing was wrong and that she was fine but tired. Even Aaron gave her a look saying that he knew something was up. But Hotch didn’t always have the time for gossip and he trusted and knew Em enough that if she was having a serious problem, she could come to him anytime night or day. By lunch time, Prentiss felt a little bit more emotionally drained than she had coming into work. She hardly noticed Derek sneak in behind her to use the microwave when her leftover pasta was finished reheating. 

Morgan said over the hum of the microwave, “So you told Spence and Garcia everything is fine and you gave Hotch that look that it’s all cool and they left you alone, but you're one of the most put-together people on the team and something is off. Keeping secrets is a burden and I’d think you’d like at least one person to know what’s playing in your mind on repeat. Listen if we go on a case or something then it might make you slower. Would you please tell me what’s going on? I won’t tell anyone else. You know I’m also good at keeping a secret.” Derek’s appearance startled Emily, and she jumped at his first few words but calmed quickly as she listened more intently to what he was saying. She bit the inside of her lip. The problem was she knew Derek was right and somehow that bothered her. However, Morgan would be as good a person to tell as any. Their bond was strong, but not as interwoven as the rest of the team. And he was good at keeping quiet. Prentiss deflated slightly and decided to be honest with Derek saying, “Okay but this stays between us, please?” Morgan nodded his consent and indicated for Em to continue. Emily thought of the proposal but knew the issue that was bugging her was what she should say. Finally, she stated, with a slow caution, “y/n wants to have a baby with me.” 

That response was far from what Derek had been expecting, and he blinked a few times just to ensure he’d heard correctly. Slowly a smile crept to his face replying, “That’s amazing, Em!” Emily nodded lightly and Derek was confused as to why she wasn’t showing the same joy he was. He cleared his throat lightly and asked, “Do you not want that Emily?” Prentiss let out a long sigh and said what she’d been thinking about since last night: “I do think I want kids in time. And y/n and I have talked about that before now. We talked about it before we became serious.” Derek was confused by her hesitation and asked, “Is y/n like, rushing you into this?” Emily nodded no and replied, “No not at all. She knows me too well for that. She did a bunch of research beforehand and told me there wasn’t any rush. And also that if kids wasn’t something I was interested in she and I could talk about it.” This reply left Derek even more confused and he scratched the back of his head. Finally, Morgan asked, “So, why are you upset exactly?” Em came out with it and said, “What if I’m a bad mom? I can see y/n being the most loving and caring parent in the world, but my track history with my mother just doesn’t indicate that I’m going to be that competent a parent.” 

When Emily got to the point of contention, Derek couldn’t help but chuckle, and Prentiss lightly slapped his board arm and said, “Don’t laugh at me, Morgan.” Derek managed to stop his chuckling and say, “I’m mainly laughing at your wording, Em. I don’t think any parent would say they are ‘competent.’ And if you’re going to question me on that, ask Hotch if he thinks he’s a competent parent with Jack or JJ with her baby. I swear no one has it all figured out.” Emily was still hesitant and Derek continued, “Emily no matter what you decide it’s going to be the right thing. I know you and y/n won’t jump into anything, but if you ask me, I think you’ll make a fantastic parent.” Emily could tell that Morgan was no longer joking and she asked, “Why do you say that?” She was genuinely curious to hear how he would answer. Morgan leaned against the wall and replied, “Well you could just call it intuition, but the other sign to me is how in tune with yourself and y/n you are. You notice things about everyone, especially y/n. If you decide to have a kid together that will be the most loved child ever. You may not have it all figured out, but with how much you care about each other, I know you and y/n will figure out the rest. You’ll be a great Mom Em.” Emily felt her heart warm slightly and the original image of a child running around her and y/n’s apartment, or the park, or a variety of other idyllic scenes came back in a rush. She knew this wasn’t always going to be the reality, but she felt encouraged and replied to Morgan, “Thanks, Derek. I appreciate that. And thanks for letting me ramble.” Derek smiled again and was happy to see Emily happy. He said, “You got it Em. And my lips are sealed.” Emily felt much better the rest of the day having one person know what she was thinking about. It helped so much that after she had talked about it, she found it much easier to work. 

It was a few weeks later as Prentiss had found the right ring for y/n, and she and y/n had talked about breaking that set of news to the team that Emily came up behind y/n who was standing at the kitchen counter. Prentiss hugged y/n gently from behind and said softly in her ear, “y/n, I want to try. I want to try for a baby with you.” y/n froze and then turned around slowly in Emily’s arms and said, “Really?” Emily nodded and replied, “Really baby. I want some time before we go for it, but I want to be with you.” y/n felt her eyes well with tears of happiness. Her life had felt so empty and barren before she met Emily. Now life felt so full. She was getting married to the best woman ever, and they were planning a family. A lot was yet to come in their journey, but for now, everything was perfect. As the tears started rolling, y/n mouthed, “I love you so, so much Emily,” as she leaned in with her tear-stained face and kissed Em with all the love she could give. Emily wrapped her arms around y/n and kissed her back. Yes, time went quickly, but together they would make the most of every minute there was between them and the family they were planning.

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[uranometrias]

✮ꜜ : ❛ you're still a traitor : criminal minds x fem! reader [ pt. 1 ]

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau! reader (unrequited) | spencer reid x bau! reader | s7 team x bau! reader (platonic)

summary: being in love with your boss was hard. especially when there were so many factors surrounding you that made the possibility of being with him, out of the question. for starters, there was your age gap, and hotch was a stickler with baggage that he couldn't quite disclose to you. hotch was a fantasy, always out of your grasp, that is until emily dies. in the four months that followed emily's death at the hands of ian doyle, you found yourself living a life that you'd only ever dreamed about. hotch was careful, but the proof was right in front of your face as he went out of his way to care for you while you grieved. how stupid of you not to realize something was horribly wrong. but now emily was back, and hotch was back from reassignment in pakistan, and you were all on trial, and absolutely nothing makes sense except for the bitter understanding that you were a pawn in a game that in so few words was "way bigger than you." but at least you had spence.

content warnings: this is literally a barrel of angst. reader breaks the skin of her palms with her nails. mentions of slight! anxiety. follows the plot of "it takes a village" aka the iconic "this is calm, and it's doctor" episode. flashbacks x present day! spencer has been crushing on reader for as long as she's been crushing on hotch. hotch is NOT romantically interested in reader. slight! hotchniss vibes (but that's up to your interpretation. jj x reader angst! reader does not react to emily's return well. mentions of unit transfer / bureau resignation. spencer confesses to reader... open ending making room for a part 2! heartbreak, drinking, crying. best friend! penelope garcia + derek morgan. reader has a sister & niece.

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Your leg shakes violently as you sat just outside the court room, hands balled into tight fists as your nails press deep into the callousing skin of your palms. You couldn't say you were nervous, as far as the previous case was concerned you'd done everything you could to save Declan. You'd take whatever suspension they'd throw your way without batting an eye. You didn't regret the part you played, no, you just regretted the team that you were apart of.

It had been a crazy seven months. You remembered when things turned left, back when Emily started acting weird. She was shorter, snappier, she had less patience with any of you. Long gone were the days of wasting your time with jokes and innuendos. She had a lot on her mind, a lot none of you were privy to, and you remembered how you'd stretched yourself. You'd all tried so hard to show her you were there, to let her know that you could be trusted.

Your face contorts into a scowl, it had become your new resting face in the last few weeks. God, you hated how stupid and naive you'd been back then. Now that everything was out in the open, it was almost too obvious where the deception began. What was the point of taking care of people who had no trouble treating you like some disposable pawn piece to be moved to fit their whims. Damn. You were crying again, you'd been doing that a whole lot too lately.

You scrub furiously at your face, and you hate your teammates a little bit more. JJ had gone first, face devoid of any timidity or uncertainty. Long gone were the days of Jennifer Jareau the Liaison, she was a profiler now, one of you. When she'd come back, you'd been ecstatic. The unit hadn't been the same since she was transferred, you'd missed her so gravely. But now, now the sight of her just reminded you of the secret you'd been holding on the tip of your tongue.

Hotch wasn't the only one who had known about Emily.

You feel a hand moving to rest on the top of your thigh, and you flinch violently. You sniffle audibly, eyes moving to rest on Penelope, your God-given solace. Your best friend. She, Derek, and Spencer were the only ones who wholeheartedly understood what you felt. But even still, Hotch hadn't used their feelings to make them blind, the way he had done with you. He'd played you like a goddamn fiddle, and you'd let him. Because you were weak, stupid, grieving, and in love.

Hotch had never been in the cards for you, not that you weren't beautiful, gorgeous, an amazing agent. You had the stamp of approval of both Agents Gideon and Rossi. Erin Strauss had been (by your request) rejecting every request of transfer any other unit had tried to offer. You were an asset to the bureau, and a major part of this team. You'd been around since the beginning. You'd witnessed doe-eyed Spencer Reid join at age 23, full of facts and anxiety.

You'd seen Derek blossom and break out of his play-boy persona, and become someone that other branches of the law fought to have. You'd been around for so long, you'd witnessed so much, and Hotch knew that. Which you suppose is what you allowed yourself to believe was the reason he'd never shown signs of reciprocating your feelings. He was respecting your future, leaving your options open. But those were the delusional musings of a girl in love with someone she can't have. Hotch wasn't into you, and you knew that.

So why, why, why did you let him convince you of the opposite? For even one measly second? And, yes, of course in the grand scheme of things you understood why he did what he did. But it didn't make it hurt less. In fact knowing his duty to Emily outweighed his duty to anything else just made this whole ordeal feel more like a slap to your face. Penelope gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze, and you're pulled from your running mind. You blink, registering her worry.

"Are you alright?" she asks, and it's the first time anyone's asked you that since the first day. You know they were giving you space to cope, which only seemed to reaffirm your feelings of betrayal and loneliness. "We'll get out of this, alright? And we'll-we'll be able to be a complete family again." she proceeds, and serves you right for believing someone understood what was going on. They'd all misunderstood you. They thought your behavior was fear of the team being dismantled. Some profilers you were surrounded by.

"I'm fine, Garcia." you say, and you can't bite the snippiness if you wanted to. "I just want to get this over with, and get the hell out of here." you add, and you're standing up, Penelope's hand dropping limply as you move your seat. You find a more isolated corner, plopping back into the uncomfortable seat, as the legs squeak slightly. Your leg is back to shaking, only now you've taken to chomping on your bottom lip. You don't imagine Penelope's hurt expression, you know without a doubt that you'll cave. And you can't.

Not this time.

Your phone chirps in your pocket, and you jump once more. Your jumpiness was a new attribute triggered by the amount of sleep you hadn't been getting. Pulling it out you see that it's a call from your big sister, and you curse under your breath. You were supposed to be watching your niece so your sister could pick up an extra shift. None of you had really expected for things to go this far.

"Hey..." you wince, because you can hear the heaviness of your feelings ladled over your words.

"Hey, are you alright? I got a call from Spence." and you're surprised. You look up, searching for the brunette anywhere in the vicinity, and find that he hasn't shown up yet. It's a bit of a shock, especially for someone as punctual as Reid. You did however spot JJ still meandering about, and she's not looking tense at all. Despite your anger towards her, you couldn't deny that she'd quickly fallen into the role of a profiler. It fit her almost like a glove.

"Spencer called you?" you ask, and you hear the tension in your sister's sigh. You imagine that she must be exhausted. Your sister did a lot, and managing a blossoming family was hard. Your niece was five, and she had a new addition to the family on the way. Which was why it was so important for you to be there on the days she needed you to watch your niece.

"Yes, he said something about..." your sister lowers her voice. "Emily." she questions, and you find your head nodding despite the fact she can't see you. "Are you alright?" she asks again, and this time she emphasizes how important it is for her to hear directly from your mouth the state of your wellbeing. Your sister seemed to always see right through you, it was a wonder she wasn't the one in the FBI.

"I'm-" you trail off before you can lie. "I'm sure if they could they'd disband the unit." you whisper, and you look up just as Derek is exiting the court room, Penelope looking terrified as she takes his place. Derek scans the room before he spots you, and his eyes soften. JJ approaches him and the two seem to chat animatedly. Still they look so serious, there was no room for smiles and banter today.

It's not long though before they're looking at you again, and you know that they know. Your self isolation wasn't something you were exactly being subtle about. You immediately look away, focusing in on what your sister was saying. "Bad decisions or not, they're no good without your unit." she says, and pride still manages to swell up inside of you. "You guys do good work. You work because you're together, everyone plays their role." she proceeds, and it's then you shatter.

Play your role. What role exactly did you play? Hotch was the stoic leader that somehow seemed to play the role of pseudo-father so well for every member of the team, with the exception of Rossi and Derek. Derek, was the shoe-in for promotion. The older brother who teased you relentlessly, but would fight til his last breath to protect you, and he always did. JJ, the pretty girl. The one who everyone on the team at some point had been attracted to. But more than that, she was resilient, a subtle glue that kept your unit running.

You quickly slot through everyone else's roles in your head, and huff. What were you except the odd-woman out. The dummy with a crush on your unit chief, and too much knowledge for your own good. You supposed that was why Hotch had to distract you with exaggerated gestures. If you got out of your feelings and really thought about it, you knew that if anyone on the team was going to see through the smoke, and uncover the truth about Emily, it would be you.

So he had to handicap you. What better way than by hanging the possibility of a romance in your face. Still, it was cruel. Just more proof that this was not the family you made them out to be. "Yeah, I'm not so sure." you reply, and you can hear how disgruntled you sound. It smacks you like a ton of bricks, and it's then you truly realize just how hurt you were by everything. Your sister sighs deeply, and it makes you second guess yourself. Were you being irrational? Unfair?

"I know what Hotch did." she begins, "And it was awful to play with your feelings like that." she expresses, and you feel validated. "And nobody's expecting you to just welcome Emily back with open arms after months and months of thinking that she was dead. You were deceived, and I want you to feel however you want, okay?" she says, and you don't respond, mostly because it feels rhetorical. "Just don't do anything rash without thinking it through alright?"

You don't know what she means by that so your eyes roll. "I think we're well past that, if they find us guilty I could lose my job." you remind her, and she chuckles. You don't find it funny, you can't. Your love for the job outweighed a lot of things, so it had been a no-brainer to help Derek seek out Ian Doyle. You wanted his head spinning on a pike, and you weren't planning to take no for an answer.

two weeks prior.

You were sitting across from Derek, steaming mug of coffee in your head that was more french vanilla creamer than anything else. You held the staged photograph of Declan and Louise. Derek's holding an identical photo, a heady sigh escaping him as you both rack your brains for some sort of bullseye. Something that would point you right in the direction of Declan. "Okay, Emily needed to get Declan a new identity." Penelope says as she walks into the office. She sits in the chair right beside you, arm full of stress balls and files. "So she must have used someone that she trusted." she proceeds.

"Alright, well that's a short list, but it's probably not even written down." is Derek's tired reply.

"Even if it was, she's been so many places, with so many different points of contact. " you speak up, and you take a sip from your coffee, praying it kicks in and wakes you up a bit. "It's not gonna be super easy to track and narrow them all down." you say, and you realize your mistake just as Penelope is placing a file in your hands.

"Oh, tell me about it. Two columns, domestic and imports." she says as she passes the other to Derek, who's looking at you with an amused smile stretched across his face. Serves you both right for underestimating the genius of Penelope Garcia. "I accept your apology, cutie." she says, leaning into you as you grin, smacking your lips in a kiss.

"Hey." JJ's at the door of the office, all three of you turning to look her way as she beams brightly. "Have you guys seen, Spence?" she questions, and you remember how you'd offered to bring him a coffee as a respite from the garbage water they served in the bullpen. He'd shut you down politely asking to reschedule as he was going to be spending his day at the Firing Range. You understood the need, he wanted to protect himself, and the team. He had to get better.

"He's at the firing range." you and Penelope speak in unison, making eye contact, as hers narrow. You knew instantly she would have questions about why you of all people knew Spencer's whereabouts.

"Again?" JJ questions as you shrug your shoulders, her eyes flitting towards you.

"Ever since Prentiss died, he..." Penelope speaks your thoughts.

"Right." JJ nods her head. "Uh... did you guys just get a new case?" she questions, hands clasping together in front of her.

"It's just an old one." Derek answers.

"Do you want some fresh eyes?" she asks, and it's painfully clear that she's still figuring out how to feel more like the team again.

"Not just yet." Derek denies, and he's polite, but you knew why he was being this way. You were all for keeping anything related to Doyle under wraps until you were further along.

"Ok. Um, well let me know." she hums, and then she looks back at you. "Y/N, can I..." your eyebrows raise as she trails off. "Can we talk? It'll only take a second." she hopes, and you look to Derek and Penelope for a moment.

"We won't do anything big without you." Derek promises, and you nod, closing the file, and handing it off, before you stand to your feet. You follow JJ out of the office, and down the hallway, stopping just before you reach the heart of the bullpen. You look to her expectantly, a bit confused, but not on edge. You had missed JJ, and in the two months she'd been back, it'd been pretty hard to get some real time with her. You'd hoped a break in the case would help to change that.

"Everything okay, Jaige?" you ask, and you witness how she exhales in relief right in front of you.

"God, it is now." she says, and your eyebrows jump up. She seems to understand the confusion on your face as she lets out a chuckle, dispelling more of her own tension. "You've been calling me Agent Jareau since I got back... not JJ and definitely not Jaige." she explains, as it seems to register for you. "I guess I was just a little worried I'd done something to make you mad at me." she admits, and she's clearly sheepish.

"Oh." you chuckle yourself, and you reach out to hold her shoulder. "No, you've done nothing wrong." you promise. "I've just been a bit in my head these last few weeks, but I'm really glad you're back." JJ beams at your words, and all the remaining tension in her posture dissipates instantly.

present day.

"Hey, everything alright?" you look up, pulled from your thoughts at the presence of Spencer Reid. He's holding a medium cup of a steaming liquid that you can only assume is coffee, and you find yourself smiling despite yourself. "I remember you asked me a few weeks ago about coffee." he holds it out, and you're quick to press your phone to your shoulder, neck craning slightly as you take it.

"Thanks, Spence." you mumble, and you can practically hear your sister's smirk from the other line. "Could you just give me one second, I'm talking to my sister?" you question, and Spencer nods his head, eyes widening in understanding. You smile politely, and he beams back at you, pretty eyes seemingly brightening before he's making his way over to Derek who's smirking like the nuisance he is.

"Hey." you mumble once he's gone, and your sister is snickering. For some odd reason she'd been dropping hints that maybe the guy on the team you should be setting your sights on was Spencer. To your defense, it wasn't like he wasn't attractive. You'd be an idiot to deny his boyish charm and good looks, but after he'd sat you down and admitted he had a crush on JJ, back during his second year, you'd sort of blocked any potential attraction towards him out of your head.

Now he was just Spence.

"Hey, I should go. I just wanted to check in, Spence made me aware of everything so I've got everything figured out on this end." she promises you, and you nod once more despite yourself. "Just think about what I said, alright? It'd be a shame for you to leave behind such a good job." she finishes, and you don't know how to respond to that, so you don't. "Call me later?" she questions, though you know she's telling you more than asking.

"I will." you reply, and she sounds pleased as she exhales.

"I'll talk to you soon." and then the phone is clicking. You adjust your grip on your coffee, using your free hand to grab your phone, and place it down on your lap. The coffee smelled good, it was from that cute shoppe that sold different pastries and always smelled like cinnamon. You'd been there with Spencer and Penelope a handful of times, and they always made your coffee exactly how you liked it. Still, Spencer had never ordered for you so you await a mishap.

The first sip warms you up instantly, and you're knocked flat on your ass by how on point the drink was. Your eyes snap upwards, looking across the lobby towards Spencer, who's awkwardly sitting in a seat, Derek beside him. JJ was gone now, but you figured she was probably with Hotch and Emily, the three of them had been attached at the hip since the team was "back together". You're certain them being gone was what led you to standing to your feet.

You walk towards Derek and Spencer quietly, slipping into a seat next to Spencer as Derek leaned up against the wall. "I didn't know that you knew my coffee order." you whisper, and Spencer turns to look at you. He offers a half smile, you were certain you'd be passing a lot of those back and forth until the court proceedings were done with.

"Of course I do." he shrugs his shoulders. "I pay attention when you talk." he promises, and you wonder why he had to like JJ, and why you had to like Hotch. On paper, and off paper Spencer Reid was the perfect candidate for boyfriend, plus he never pretended to be into you to keep you from finding out the truth. You both fall into silence, there's not much else to say, but you let his words repeat in your head. I pay attention when you talk. It makes your stomach twist.

"You alright over there, pretty girl?" Derek's voice barely reaches over a whispered volume. It seemed you all were feeling the dreary aftershocks of an ordeal like the one you'd found yourselves in. You look up at Derek tiredly, and you don't understand why he's asking you this, not until you feel the scalding heat of hot coffee singing your skin. Two sets of worried eyes are drawn to your cup, it's squished in your palm, brown liquid streaming everywhere.

"Shit." you hiss, and the cup falls to the floor, you're quick to clutch your burnt hand. God, you were really torn up over this.

"I'll get this cleaned up." Derek promises, and he looks at Spencer as if he was communicating something he didn't want you privy to. Spencer falters, only for a second before he's reaching out for your forearm, and guiding you to your feet. You trail after him, walking down the long corridor, listening out for the telltale sign that Penelope was done, and they'd be calling you next. On your route you pass JJ who looks concerned as she looks between the two of you.

"Spence, Y/N?" she says, and you avert your gaze, you're not sure if you're more angry or embarrassed.

"Sh-she spilled some coffee." Spencer explains, but he doesn't stop walking. "Shouldn't be more than a first degree burn, if she soaks her hand for five minutes, everything should be fine." he is passive as he speaks, eyes never quite meeting hers as he continues to lead you.

"Let me take her." JJ offers, and both you and Spencer are quick to offer denials. She looks hurt but masks it quickly. "It's not like you can go into the girl's bathroom with her, right?" she says and it's then you both realize you've got no other choice. He looks to you, trying to gauge how you'd feel about it, and you sigh. Maybe this was for the best, you could finally get things off your chest with JJ. It was only fair. He seems to clock the instant you've decided, and concedes.

"I'll be right out here." he promises, and you nod slowly. He looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn't get the chance to.

"Spence." JJ says his name a bit more sternly, and he resists the urge to cut his eyes in her direction. He ignores her long enough to take in your ailed hand, he saw the way the skin began to redden and swell. He seems cross as he passes you off to JJ, and you feel a bit silly being fussed over for something as minute as a coffee burn. JJ's earnest in the way she takes you to the nearest women's restroom. You hiss the second the cold water comes in contact with your skin.

You don't say anything to JJ though, losing your nerve the second the two of you were alone. She looks like she's waiting for you to say something though, eyes brimming with some sort of unease. She was reading you, using her new skills to profile you. You suppose that's exactly what pushes you to finally speak. "We said we'd never profile one another." you remind her crossly, and she's sheepish. "Just because you're doing it in your head doesn't make it any less invasive." you keep your wrist in place, hissing silently.

"If you would just talk to me I wouldn't have to go that far." she counters, and you blink. Fair, but you had every right to keep your distance from her. Just because the rest of the team was still more or less unaware of JJ's role in harboring the secret of Emily, you'd read right through her.

"What's there to talk about exactly?" you ask. "None of us want to be here dealing with this." and you take the route of the naive girl.

"I'm not talking about with the trial... and the senators." she shakes her head, and she's almost pleading as she tries to catch your eyes in the mirror. "I'm talking about Emily." she deadpans. "Everything that happened?" she proceeds. "You've hardly said a word to her since she came back." she doesn't want to come off like she's scolding you, and so she takes in a breath before her tone can become defensive.

"I don't speak to ghosts." and it's a quiet little dig that she hears all the same. It forces a tense silence to wash over the restroom, the only sound slicing through the awkwardness is the water rushing from the spout. JJ clears her throat, blinking a few times as she adjusts your wrist, allowing the water to evenly coat your burn. Only a few more minutes of this and you could make your grand escape.

"That's not fair." she finally voices her thoughts with a deep sigh.

"Isn't it?" you snap. "Seven months we thought she was dead." and you suppose that was a mistake of hers, getting you started. "Pretty lucky that you were off at the Pentagon, right?" you ask sourly. "Or was it lucky that you were in on the whole scam? I mean you were at the funeral, but you didn't have to cry, you didn't have to grieve." you accuse, and JJ's jaw slackens, clearly surprised at your outburst.

"I lost my friend too, okay?" she counters and you scoff.

"Did you?" you argue. "All those nights I called you crying, all those texts, those check ins... how long did you know Emily was still alive?" you demand, and JJ's feeling cornered, and her heart rate is picking up. She knew there'd be mixed feelings about this, but she'd never expected to ever be at odds with you. You, Spencer, and JJ rounded out the younger crowd on the team, it was your job to stick together. "Answer me." you insist, and you sound so crushed as you speak.

"I knew the whole time." she answers, and you nod your head, because of course you already knew.

"Exactly." you sneer. "You're a liar." you hate how angry this whole thing makes you, but you can't deny it. They'd played with your feelings, all of them, and now you were meant to behave like nothing was wrong. "Did you know about Hotch?" you ask, and JJ flinches. She doesn't answer for a while, and the water seems to rush even louder in your ears.

"I told him it wasn't smart." she finally answers. "But we needed to ensure that Emily wasn't at risk, it was harmless... just some flirting to keep you from getting too close to the truth." and JJ is speaking as if this wasn't some major breach of your position as coworkers and alleged friends. "He'd never cross the line." she reminds you, and the reminder that yeah, Hotch would never be with you makes you wince.

"And he didn't." she says this like she knows for certain. "It was flirting, Y/N. it didn't mean anything, we just needed you to..." and she trails off when she sees how destroyed you look at her admission. "Y/N..." she trails off, and you inhale sharply.

"Don't." you exhale, and you snatch your hand from her grasp. The cool air of the bathroom immediately attacks the welts blooming on your hand. You don't have time to pay them any mind.

"We just wanted to protect you... and keep Emily safe in the process. The more of us that knew Emily was alive, the more of a liability we'd be while Doyle was still on the run." she says, and you suppose in the grand scheme you understand. As profilers, as special agents working for the FBI they'd done great work. As your friends, as people you'd considered family for years... they'd betrayed you.

Plain and simple.

"Congratulations, you did exactly what you meant to." you say dully, and you sniffle, though no tears are set to come. Instead you feel more anger blossoming in the pit of your gut. "I hope it was worth it." and it's dramatic, but you deserve the dramatics, sidestepping the blonde and leaving her behind just as Emily is stepping inside. She looks at you wide-eyed, before she sees JJ standing there seemingly frazzled.

"Is everything okay?" she questions, and you don't offer her an answer, instead leaving the restroom as your earlier words ring in your head. I don't talk to ghosts. And you don't, and despite your history you'd never allow yourself to. You find your way back to the seats that led to the courtroom, Derek was gone, the only person still there was Spencer. He stands up as soon as he hears your shoes.

"Where's Derek?" you ask quietly.

"He left with Garcia." he answers quietly. "I guess they're dismissed for now. They're in with Dave now." he explains, and your eyes shift to the door. More than likely you or Spencer would be next.

You sit down, and Spencer follows you, sinking back into his seat as his legs just barely brush against yours. "Are you scared?" you ask, and Spencer's head shakes.

"Are you?" he shoots back, and you look away from the door.

"Not of this." you admit. "But of what comes after." you add and Spencer's pretty brown eyes are swimming with confusion. "Can we really all bounce back from something like this?" you ask, and it's rhetorical, but he answers you all the same.

"We've come back from worse." he reminds you, and that faint smile is worming back onto your face.

"Sure we have." you agree numbly. Spencer's eyes drop to your hand.

"How does it feel?" he asks, and you follow his gaze with a shrug of your shoulders. He doesn't look pleased by this approach, and it makes you sigh.

"Just feels like I ran some water over it." you admit, and Spencer chuckles. "A bit anticlimactic if I'm honest with you, Doctor." and you're partly teasing, mostly because it's so easy.

"You'll need some sort of petroleum jelly... there's some pretty good products that aren't at all carcinogenic like the leading brands." he begins on a tangent, and it makes you smile a bit bigger. "That with some gauze is the perfect remedy for such a mild burn." he proceeds and you look down at it. There's a moment of silence between you, before he's talking again. "Can I ask what happened?" he whispers.

You hum, almost like you're pretending you can't hear him.

"With the coffee? Was it not good? I tried to follow your order exactly." he says and you squeeze your eyes closed.

"It wasn't you or the coffee, Spence." you promise him, and without thinking you reach out, small hand resting on his shoulder. "The coffee was perfect." you insist, and he relaxes, but not enough. "I guess I'm just thrown about all of this." you proceed. "No matter how much I try to remind myself that they did this to protect Emily... that their deception was for a good reason, it just makes me angrier. Why is it that I have to rationalize being angry?" you question.

"I have to reign my feelings in for the sake of the team." you're careful not to grow loud. Spencer's eyebrows are pressed inwardly, head shaking.

"You don't." he denies you quickly. "You shouldn't." he corrects.

"You're right." you agree, and your silent for only a second. "I wish everyone could be like you, Spence." you say, and your words surprise him. He feels this familiar wave of adoration that always seems to swallow him whole whenever he was around you.

"Really?" he knows it might be pathetic, to be hopeful for something like this. The chance to hear what popped in your head whenever you thought of him.

"Yeah." you say firmly, and he tries not to look too eager. "You're so smart." you tell him, and he knows this, but it still feels nice hearing it from you. "And you're always nice to me." you add with a quiet laugh. "And you'd never lie to me would you?" you ask, and in truth, it's not a fair question. Spencer wasn't in the position the others were in.

"What do you mean?" he asks, and he fears it may be the wrong response. You don't even react, at least not that he can tell.

"Nothing." you settle on, head shaking from side to side. "Forget I mentioned it." and he doesn't really want to remind you that his memory quite literally makes that impossible. "I heard that you weren't fighting the suspension." you say conversationally, and he's surprised, mostly because the only person he'd told about that was Derek. Which meant you had been talking about him when he wasn't around.

"I guess I just stand by everything we did." he tells you, and your hand still hurts a bit, but it's definitely a problem for a later version of you.

"Me too. I'm glad we got Doyle, and Declan's safe." you exhale, and despite your anguish towards the team, you meant every word.

"And the team's back together." Spencer himself doesn't sound so convinced. You look over at him at this, your own unconvinced expression slowly cracking through his attempt at a cool facade.

"Is it?" you ask, and Spencer's face softens, a small little frown taking over his otherwise usually content face. He couldn't admit it now, mostly because it didn't feel like the right time, but he paid attention to you. He knew all about your complicated feelings for Hotch "I don't want to be on a team with people who purposely keep me in the dark about things." you ask, and Spencer pauses.

"I'm sure they wouldn't if they had another choice." he offers, and it's not how he feels at all, but it's what you need to hear.

"You don't believe that." you deny, and Spencer can't fight his chuckle. "Or maybe you do, you've always been good at seeing the best in people."

"Oh, do you think so?" it's a bit of a surprise. With your job description it would've made more sense for you to tell him that he saw the worst in people. He felt it was a fair thing to say that he was exceptionally good at his job, but it's then he recognizes what it is you're truly saying, or at least alluding to. It makes his face heat up immediately, cheeks blossoming a rosy red that makes him want to roll his eyes.

"Of course." you promise, and then you're looking at him again. Your face is one of the prettiest he's ever seen, and it's not even subtle. You seem a bit uncertain of your own allure though, which to him is a major shock. "You're like the best person ever." you add, and he expects you to snicker or show some sign that you were joking, but you don't. Bad for him, because his deluded mind full of fantasies starring you would take words like those the wrong way.

"I think you're the best person ever..." he's whispered this, but you hear it all the same, and he's lucky enough to witness the way your entire face morphs. Despite the bleariness in your eyes, you beam brightly. He hates though, that you start to cry. It starts with one tear slipping down your cheek and dripping into your lap. The onslaught comes right after, and before you know it, you're choking on sobs.

"God..." he hears the bitter tang of self-loathing that attaches and weaves itself into your otherwise honey-filled tone. "You're making this so hard, Spencer." you huff, and you scrub at your face harshly. He doesn't understand, but he's too frozen in place to ask you what you mean. Lucky him, you seem to know that you've got explain a bit, so you do. "I'm gonna resign." you say this quietly, sniffling as more tears fall. Spencer feels like he's misheard you.

He wants to have misheard you. He flounders a bit, and he's mentally scolding himself, because he has to hurry the fuck up and say something. "You can't!" and he's scolding himself again for sounding too eager. You jump a bit at the outburst, and he winces right along with you. "We just got everyone back." he reminds you, and you exhale, head nodding in understanding.

"I know." you promise him. "Why do you think this is so hard. You think I want to be the asshole that turns the unit on its head?" you ask. "But I can't stay here and pretend that everything's fine... or act like I don't feel thrown about all of this." you proceed, and of course, Spencer understands, he's upset he was lied too as well.

"I understand." he admits with a sigh, and you let out a quiet noise of relief, almost like you were worried he'd be upset with you. He assumes this is just him being delusional again. You look like you have something sitting on the tip of your tongue, so he stays silent to give you the room to say all that you need to.

"Have you ever had feelings for someone?" you ask. You chuckle at the look he shoots you, "Not just for a second, Spence." you proceed. "I mean like... take your breath away, kind of almost-in-love feelings." you indulge, and Spencer's keen to shut his mouth. Yes, is the loud and resounding answer that rings in his head, because foolishly he'd allows you to captivate him like the siren you were almost three years prior. He'd be a dummy to tell you such now though.

"I-" he blinks harshly, eyes feeling too dry. "I can't say I have." he lies, and he remembers your words from earlier, how you'd praised him for being someone who would never lie to you. You don't seem to notice his deception though, and if you do, you're too in your own head to comment on it.

"Good." you say with a shuddered breath. "They're nothing but a headache, especially when the person doesn't want you back." you exhale the words, and it's like a dagger is being lunged into his chest. How dense could you possibly be with all your super smarts?

"Did something happen with Hotch?" he asks, and now it's your turn to be embarrassed, face pinching up as you choke on a breath. "I don't mean to pry, if it's personal... it's just that-" he trails off, seemingly waiting for you to berate him or tell him to back off. You don't, instead your nose twitches, and you begin to look at your shoes. "Y/N?" he nudges you with his elbow, and it's light.

"No." you finally say, head shaking. "I thought maybe..." you trail off, more embarrassment slicing at you as you cringe. "But it was all a ruse, just a way to keep me from getting too close, and figuring out everything about Emily before they wanted us to know." you say and Spencer's eyebrows furrow.

"They?" he pries, and you look at him like he's silly.

"Hotch and JJ." you answer plainly, and it takes Spencer a second. JJ who he'd went to for comfort for ten weeks? He blinks at you, and you shrug. "So you see... anyone that could take my feelings and use them to manipulate me... are they really worth sticking around for?" you ask, and Spencer doesn't want to validate you in this way. He wants to be selfish, he wants you to stay on the team.

He thinks about how devasted everyone would be. How devasted he would be to walk into the bullpen and find that your desk was empty.

"I don't want you to go..." he admits, and it's quite pitiful, the sadness that soaks the words like gasoline. You find yourself chomping on your lip again, nails pressing into the cuts of your palms, and Spencer's catching your bad habits in real time.

It's a bit invasive, the way his hand surges out, and stops you in your tracks. "Please don't do this." and you're not sure if he's talking about leaving the unit, or if he's referring to the gashes littering your hands. When he holds your palm out flat, and rubs his thumb across the bleeding indentations, you find that you understand quickly.

Every few seconds it's ebbing with more droplets of blood, and he's quick to wipe them away like they offend him. Just as he's moving to say something else, the doors to the courtroom are opening, and Dave Rossi is exiting, his eyes immediately on you and Spencer. You must look foolish, hands intertwined as you stare wide-eyed at the team's senior agent. It's probably why Spencer is dropping your hand as you're snatching it away from his grasp.

You still find that your eyes are quick to appraise one another. He's looking at you, and you're staring back, mouths parted as if you'd been caught. Had you been caught? Had there really been anything to catch? You don't have time to answer, because you're being called next. You frown at Spencer, standing to your feet as he feels his pulse threaten to leap to disrespectful speeds.

"Y/N..." he calls after you, and you stop for a second. Eager eyes fall back on him, and he's trailing off, because the look in your eyes says it all. If you got out of this without being fired, you could imagine a world where quitting the FBI no longer made you sick to your stomach. Silence befalls the space, and he shakes his head after a beat. You look disappointed but not surprised, inhaling deep and audibly as you march towards the court room.

Spencer doesn't know what you're going to say, but he hopes recalling all you'd been through in the last few weeks will be enough to make you stay. At least until he has the courage to ensure that you leaving the team doesn't equate to losing you entirely and completely.

[em-prentiss]

Ice cold

————

In which you have freezing hands, and Aaron warms them up for you.

Cw: fem!bau!reader—I think it could also be read as gn reader, getting together, fluff, first kiss, no use of yn

Word count: 1.7k

This is my first time writing a reader insert, so please be gentle with me lol. I’ve been wanting to write an Aaron x reader for ages and this idea finally came to me last night. Idk if I’ll continue writing these, but if you have any prompts let me know! It took me ridiculously long to come up with this one haha <3

————

The cold bites at your exposed hands and you shiver, dropping your pen and notepad into your coat pockets because they’re all but useless now, your fingers close to snapping in half. You leave Aaron to jot down notes of the crime scene you’re in, keeping your hands in your equally freezing pockets in a poor attempt at keeping them warm.

Who has the energy to dump and mutilate a body in the woods in the middle of January, anyway?

“Isolated and hard to find, safe to say he’s a local.” You murmur, tucking your chin into the collar of your coat. You curl your numb fingers into your palm, cursing quietly at the stiffness in them.

“Yeah,” Aaron agrees. “One with experience, too. No blood spatter, no drag marks. He could’ve wrapped them in tarps.” He clicks his pen closed and slides it into his pocket along with his notepad, making you sigh in relief at the thought of leaving soon. “We’ll know more once Morgan and Rossi come back from the ME.”

You nod silently, clenching your fingers around the cold fibers of your coat pocket as you shiver again. Aaron’s gaze slides to you. 

“You okay?” He asks.

“It’s fucking freezing,” you grumble, hunching your shoulders and trying to wrap your coat tighter around your body. Your hands have gone fully numb now, clenched into icy fists inside your pockets. “My hands froze over. They’re like ice blocks.” You frown, your jutted bottom lip scratching against the wool of your coat.

Aaron smiles amusedly, his heart warming at the sight of your furrowed brows, your chin tucked into your coat for warmth. You shift slightly from foot to foot, subconsciously huddling closer to him and his endless, blazing warmth. 

He turns his back on the deserted crime scene and focuses instead on you, his eyes lingering on the flush on your cheeks, your skin bitten from the cold. He looks perfectly warm, you think grouchily, in his stupid large coat and his stupid neatly wrapped scarf.

“And yet when we went to literal Alaska you didn’t have any complaints,” he says. 

You huff indignantly, “Excuse you, at least in Alaska I knew it was going to be—” You cut off as his fingers wrap around your wrists and gently pull your hands from your pockets.

Immediately the cold bites at them again, but that’s not what makes you falter. “What are you doing?” You ask as he cups both of your hands between his. Distantly, you think it’s a stupid question. But his hands are so warm, large and completely engulfing yours, making you feel like you just stuck them in an oven. You let out an involuntary sigh, your brain going blank at the sudden heat from his hands.

Aaron ignores your question. “You weren’t lying,” he says mildly, bending his head to look at the way your nails were turning blue. He brings your hands up to his face and blows warm air on the blue tips of your fingers, massaging them with circular motions to force the cold out of them. Your heart picks up at the way your hands disappear beneath his, what’s visible of them looking small in his gentle grip.

Your skin is icy beneath his own. “Jeez, are you anemic or something?” He looks up at you and his lips tilt upward at the flush on your cheeks, deeper now than it was before, and you both know it’s not from the cold.

“No,” you squeak, the excessive heat of his hands rendering you incoherent. His thumbs rub gentle circles onto your palms, slowly forcing the warmth back into them. “Just terrible circulation.”

Aaron hums and looks back down at your hands, massaging them thoroughly until you start to regain the feeling in your fingers. You waggle them experimentally and he smiles a little, moving his thumbs up to your knuckles and rubbing them slowly.

You can feel your blush deepen as you look at him. His gaze is fixed on your hands, utterly focused on his task as if it were the single most important thing on his mind today, as if you didn’t have any pressing concerns like a team waiting for your feedback or a serial killer needing to be caught.

By the time he’s moved to your wrists your whole body is warm, your blood buzzing under your skin. He’s involuntarily shifted closer to you, your hands held so close to his chest your fingertips ghost against his shirt. 

His warm fingers brush over your wrist, catching your fluttering pulse, and your breath is trapped in your throat. Aaron presses your palms together and secures his hands over yours, finally done with his task. The warmth of your joint hands travels to your cheeks, the way his thumbs absently skate over the heel of your hands making your whole body flush. “Warm enough now?” He murmurs.

Just about to catch fire, actually. But you nod. “You’re a useful partner in conditions like these, Agent Hotchner. What with your furnace-like hands.” You try to joke through your racing heartbeat.

He chuckles lightly, his dimples digging into his cheeks. His hands are still holding on to yours. You’re glad for that, because otherwise you’re sure you would’ve risen on your tiptoes and pressed a thumb to each dimple, watching the way your fingers dip into the crevice. 

“Happy to be of service. Anything else I can warm up for you?” His eyes are like sun warmed honey, gazing into yours, and the words leave your mouth before you can think about them.

“My lips are cold too.”

Oh god.

You drop your gaze as your cheeks start to flame, a jittery nervousness suddenly making your stomach hurt. You try to tug your hands out of his grip but Aaron holds on tighter, his fingers wrapping around your wrists and holding you in place. 

You’re still looking down at your joint hands when he clears his throat. “I can help with that,” he says evenly, as if his own heart isn’t racing abnormally fast.

Your head snaps up. “What?” You breathe, frozen in place as he lets go of your hands. You don’t even register the sudden cold, your whole focus on the way he takes your face into his palms, his warm fingers pressing against your cold cheeks.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Aaron asks. His face is serious, all hints of his previously playful smile gone. Briefly you start to wonder if this is one of your many dreams about him, but his hands sear your skin, the icy air burns your lungs as you raggedly breathe in and out. 

You swallow, your throat unbearably dry, and nod. “Yes.” You grip the lapels of his coat, feeling the soft fibers between your fingers.

His face transforms. The hard lines soften, his seriousness melting away as he smiles again. The breath returns to your lungs. “Thank god,” he says bluntly, and you laugh, butterflies in your stomach, in your veins. You grin at him as his thumbs stroke your jaw, his fingertips sliding into your hair as he tilts your face up to his.  

“Your efforts at flirting are tragic, by the way,” he murmurs, just before he presses his lips to yours and steals your indignant reply. Immediately you melt into his arms, one hand slipping into his coat and the other resting on the hard line of his jaw. You always wanted to touch it, and as your fingers skate over it, wander over the skin that meets his neck, you feel his erratic pulse beating.

It’s good to know you’re not the only one ridiculously affected.

Aaron reluctantly pulls away when you both are breathless, his lips turning up into a grin at the sight of your dazed eyes. He leans in close and presses soft, gentle kisses on your lips—just to make sure they’re properly warmed up. 

You slip your hand into his hair and sigh—the cold has nothing on you now—just about to kiss him properly when his phone rings.

Aaron steps back and the biting cold replaces his warmth. You shiver as he digs his hand into his pocket and takes out his phone, your lips abnormally warm and your hands slowly returning to their once freezing state. 

“Yeah Dave,” he answers, his eyes still on you. You jut your bottom lip and he grins, his hand reaching for yours. He links your fingers together and softly runs his thumb over yours, making your cheeks flush again. “Sorry, we ran into traffic on the way. We’ll be there in an hour or so.”

Aaron ends the call and you laugh as he tugs you to the car, your fingers still linked. “What?” He smiles and you beam back.

“Traffic?” You raise your brows. 

He rolls his eyes. “What did you want me to say? ‘Sorry I got carried away kissing my beautiful subordinate’?” You reach the car and he opens the door for you, but you don’t get in. 

Your heart skips at his words. He smiles and you finally reach up and place your thumb into his dimple, your own smile spreading. “Yes,” you say simply, unable to believe you can finally do this. “You know they have a running bet on us.” You murmur, leaning forward to kiss the divot in his cheek.

Aaron’s skin warms beneath your lips. His hand falls to the curve of your waist and he squeezes lightly. “I know,” his voice comes out a little tight and you smile. He clears his throat and gently pushes you into the car. “The faster you get in, the faster we can collect. And we’ll use that money for our date, yeah?” 

“Deal.” You grin and get into the car, Aaron’s gentle hand guiding you into the seat. He can’t help but give you another kiss before he closes the door, your lips sweet and soft between his own.

You sigh as he climbs into the driver’s seat, your cheeks delightfully warm and your hands only slightly chilly. Aaron pulls out onto the road and his hand finds yours again. 

You thread your fingers between his and look out the window, feeling absurdly grateful for the cold woods you were in.

[reidsdaisies]

༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; emily prentiss x fem!reader

༉‧´ˎ˗ summary; Derek and Emily are the last to get back to the hotel. Derek kicks Emily out for the sake of his ‘beauty sleep’, and she’s left to have to share a room (and bed) with reader.

༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; bed sharing, cuddling, mention of emily’s nail biting habit.

༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 1.0k

𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

The smile you give at her presence is a sweet one, though you do look a little dazed as you were just awoken from your slumber. It was a good dream you were having, snow flurries slowly falling on you, the world around you calm. Her knock was what had pulled you from that dream. Instead of lying on top of a cushion of thick snow, you woke up on the same stiff hotel mattress you fell asleep on as soon after you got back from the local police station.

“Em, wh-what are you doing here.. so late too?” you squint your eyes, vision still blurry and adjusting to the light coming from the hallway she stood in.

"I just drove back with Derek," the raven-haired woman sighs, one hand stuffed in the pocket of her dark striped pantsuit, the other holding onto the strap of her bag that's slung on her shoulder. She’s not able to contain her grin as she takes in your state, the sleep-mussed hair, plain grey sweatshirt, fuzzy heart patterned sleep shorts that are indeed very short, one sock missing. "Derek kicked me out of the room, made up some bullshit excuse about how he can't sleep properly with another person in the room and that if he doesn't get enough sleep, he'll be completely off his game tomorrow.”

“..and you want to sleep here?” Your voice is groggy and your eyes have just begun to adapt to the light. Those same eyes dart down to the bag she carries, and know it makes sense why she’s carrying it.

She nods.

“If it’s not too much of a burden, that is.”

“N-no, you’re never a burden.. come in.”

You open the door wider, gesturing with your arm for her to step inside. Emily’s eyes flicker from the inside of your hotel room back over to the door of the room she was supposed to stay in with Derek.

“Are you sure it’s fine?”

Before she even finishes getting her question out, you're nodding.

“Im sure.. and I’m also sure I’m very tired.”

She huffs, a barely there smile appearing on her lips at your whine, knowing that if you get too well adjusted to being back awake, you won’t be able to get any rest tonight. You shut the door behind her after she enters and watch through the darkness as she sets her bag down at the end of the bed and gets out her pajamas as well as a makeup wipe, hairbrush, and her toothbrush and paste.

You fish around under the sheets for that other sock, putting it on before climbing under the covers. You can hear her getting ready for bed, distant noise coming from behind the bathroom walls. It’s only another 7 minutes before she’s done and striding back out in her own set of pajamas, placing her toiletries back in her black bag.

“Thanks again,” she says in a hushed tone, slipping into bed next to you. The bed shifts, dipping slightly with the additional weight.

“It’s no problem.” Your voice is a barely there whisper, and you’re already close to drifting back to sleep.

Another few minutes of silence pass and you open your eyes back up, witnessing as she fidgets with her fingers above the comforter. You glance down at her fingers, silently inspecting her fingernails. Even though they’ve always looked chewed up, you can tell she’s bitten them quite recently, maybe even today.

You’d put two and two together the first time you met Emily when you originally joined the team and figured she had a habit of biting them. You were right, and she confirmed the suspicion a couple of months into knowing each other when she made an offhand comment about your nails when you came into work after getting a manicure that weekend about how well-kept your nails always were and about how if she didn’t have this nasty habit of biting hers, they could be that same way.

“Em..?” You whisper her nickname, breaking the silence.

“Hm?” She hums, stopping her fidgeting and turning her attention over to you.

“I thought you said you haden’t bitten your nails in a while..”

Emily goes quiet. Her memory takes her back to just a week prior, when she had told you her weekend went well, and that she hadn’t bitten her nails since that last Friday, 2 days. It’s been 11 days now, and it seems like she broke that streak.

“Yeah, I did.. This case has just been really stressful, for all of us I’m sure.”

You nod in agreement. You know that’s not the whole truth, and she can tell you know by it being clearly written on your face.

“I.. I’m not in the mood to talk about this right now.. sorry.”

“Well if you ever change your mind, and you do want to talk, you can talk to me if you’d like.”

Emily lets out a soft sigh, appreciating the understanding in your eyes. She shifts slightly in the bed, finding a comfortable position as she brings her arms closer to her chest, tucking her hands inwards.

"Thank you," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. "It means a lot."

You offer her a gentle smile in return, your eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and empathy.

She takes this moment of calm between you as an opportunity to shimmy closer to you, hesitating slightly before draping her arm over you. “Is this alright?”

You answer her with a small nod, letting your eyes fall shut as you curl up into her. She rubs your back languidly, softly lulling you to back to sleep against her as she rests her head gently on your shoulder, the shoulder your hair is draped over, and moves her leg over yours, effectively spooning you beneath the covers.

“Goodnight, y/n.” She whispers beside your ear, and she can hear each soft breath you take and each beat of your heart with how close you are to her, no room between you, bare thighs pressed against her pajama bottom covered ones, her head right next to yours, pressing against the cozy material of your sweatshirt.

“Goodnight..” you mutter back, voice weak as you drift off.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Let Me Keep You Safe

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, mentions of child sexual abuse, flashbacks, panic attacks, PTSD, hurt/comfort, some explicit language Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: When Emily works a case that hits a little too close to home–a little too close to you–she has a hard time keeping her emotions in check. Takes place during S3.E5.

Your heart beat rapidly, desperately, as Emily pressed her lips into yours, hands roving over your body, the weight of her on top of you giving you just the right amount of resistance as you pushed your hips against her.

You moaned into her mouth and she grinned, grabbing your face and kissing you more, deeper, harder, until you could barely breathe.

You snaked one of your hands down the waistband of her shorts, and she grabbed your wrist.

"Nope," she said, smiling, snatching up both your hands and holding your wrists together with one of hers. "Not this time," she said, kissing each of your knuckles. "This time, I take care of you and you..." You gasped as she slammed your wrists above your head, pinning them in place. "You stay still for me."

The moment your hands hit the bed above your head, it was like you'd been transported to another dimension, into a nightmare. You blinked rapidly, looking around, the layers of the world around you like a Viewfinder caught between slides. Emily's room, then the elementary school gym equipment closet. You coughed, feeling bile rise in your throat. You could smell the stale sweat, the rubber of the basketballs, the Juicy Fruit in the gym coach's mouth as he leered over you. You felt the gym mat–such a poor barrier between you and the hard tile floor–at your back, the coach's rough hands, huge against your tiny wrists, pinning your hands in place above your head. He sat on your legs as you tried to squirm away, shaking, tears leaking down your face as he roughly pulled down your shorts.

"Stop!" you yelled. "Stopstopstopstop."

In one layer of your brain, you saw Emily release your hands immediately, sitting up and holding them away from you, a concerned look on her face.

You breathed heavily and sat up, pulling your knees to your chest.

"What's wrong?" Emily asked gently, looking you over frantically. "Did I hurt you?"

You covered your ears with your hands, rocking back and forth.

"Y/N," Emily prompted, growing more concerned by the second. "Talk to me."

Your head shot up, looking wildly about the room.

"I gotta go home," you said, still rocking.

"What!?"

"I have to leave," you insisted, hyperventilating. "I have to– I have to go. Right now. I have to go, I have to leave."

Emily placed a cautious hand on your shoulder. "I'm not gonna let you leave, Y/N. You're clearly not okay."

You grew more and more distressed, your breathing haphazard and tears forming in your eyes

"Shit!" you yelled, slamming your fist into your head.

Emily grabbed your hands tightly in hers, deeply alarmed.

"Hey!" Her voice was forceful, worried. "What the hell is going on!?"

You started to shake, and Emily noticed that your pupils had dilated wildly.

"I can't–" you stuttered. "I- I have to leave. I don't- I don't want you to– see."

There was a moment then that Emily would remember vividly for the rest of her life. It was the moment that she got it. The way you hugged your arms around your body. The way you recoiled from her touch, and covered your head protectively with your hands, nearly in a fetal position. She'd remember later the way her stomach sank, the way her heart felt as if it had burst open and bled out. It was the moment she realized that something bad had happened to you. Something violating, something awful, something so horrific it would never let you go.

She inched closer to you, careful not to touch you. "Is it a panic attack or a flashback?" she whispered.

"F-flashback," you answered, shaky. "I h-haven't had one in a l-long time."

"Okay," Emily nodded, her voice soft and kind. "What can I do to help you?"

You looked at her then, your eyes huge, a tear streaking down your face. "Can you j-just h-hold me? Really t-tight? It'll get w-worse. I just have to r-ride it– out. I'm s-sorry, Em. I–" Your voice cracked, and you turned away.

"Shh," Emily cooed, pulling you close, wrapping her arms tightly around you. She pressed your head into her chest, a gentle hand on the side of your face. "It's okay," she whispered, kissing the top of your head. "I'm right here, baby." She ran her fingers through your hair, the rhythm soothing you a bit. "I'm right here."

The worst moments of your life played in your mind as if from a 4D projector, surrounding you with the smells, the sights, the tactile disgust of his hands on you, his body against yours.

You screamed, but your voice was muffled, as if it was stuck in your throat and only the echo of a scream could get out. You grasped tufts of your hair, pulling tightly.

Emily took your hands and placed them gently under her arms, so that they were stuck in her tight grip around your body.

"It's not real anymore," she whispered, for you and for herself. "Y/N, I'm right here." Her voice broke, and she looked at the ceiling, willing herself not to cry, not right now. "I won't let anyone hurt you. Do you hear me? I love you. You're safe. You're safe with me."

After a few minutes, the horror film in your mind came to a close. Your body shook, spent from the adrenaline rush. Panic took an incredible toll on the body.

After a moment, you pulled away from Emily, burying your head in your hands. "I'm sorry, Em," you said, voice rough. "I'm so sorry."

Emily caressed the side of your face. "Honey, look at me."

"I can't," you whispered, your voice small, like a terrified child's. "We can break up if you want to. I'll understand."

Emily held your face in her hands, tilting her head down to meet your eyes. "Oh, honey, I don't want that at all. I love you. It's gonna be okay."

You let her run her thumb back and forth along your cheekbone for a few minutes, letting your heartbeat and breathing match the rhythm.

After a while, Emily ventured a question, one she was terrified to ask. "Was it something I did?" Her voice was so quiet you almost didn't hear her.

You exhaled deeply, taking her hand in yours and rubbing circles into her palm.

"The man who hurt me," you started, letting out a shaky breath. "When he held me down, he..." You hated to tell her, but she needed to know. She needed to know it all. "He pinned my hands above my head."

Emily pressed her hand over her mouth, a look of abject horror on her face.

"Y/N," she breathed, her face wracked with guilt. "I'm so sorry. I–" Her voice broke, and a few tears slid down her cheeks.

You were quick to reassure her. "It's okay," you said. "You didn't know. How would you have known?"

"Still," she said, her brows furrowed, dashing tears from under her eyes. "I should have asked first. I should have–"

"I probably would've told you to go for it," you admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I didn't think about it until..."

The silence between you was heavy, with your shame, with Emily's guilt and heartbreak.

Emily looked awful, like she'd never forgive herself. "Emily," you said, pressing your body into hers and wrapping your arms around her waist. "It's okay, I promise. I'm okay. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I hurt you," she whispered, beating herself up.

You placed your hands on your face, your arms, your chest, as if checking for injuries. "Mm, I don't feel hurt."

"You know what I mean."

You lay down in the bed, beckoning Emily to you. She reluctantly obliged, pulling you into her so that you were snuggled into the crook of her neck, her fingers tracing back and forth over your arm.

"I'm okay, Emily," you assured her.

"No, you're not." Her voice was still thick with sadness.

It was in your nature to be bright, to try and combat the dark things with laughter and beauty. You'd had so much darkness in your life, so much hurt, that the only way through it was to seek out the bright spots, to avoid the dark ones. But sometimes the dark spots couldn't be avoided.

"I'm not, but I am," you tried to explain, then sighed. "I'll call my therapist in the morning."

Emily pressed her lips into your temple, trailing her fingers through your hair. After a few minutes, your eyelids grew heavy.

"Em, I'm tired. We should go to bed."

"Shh," she cooed, pulling the blankets up around you and leaning to turn off the light. Her arms were tight around you, secure. "You go to sleep, baby. I just want to hold you for a while."

You woke up screaming that night. And the next night. And the next. It was taking a toll on your health–mental and physical. Emily hated it. She hated that you woke up terrified, woke up hurting, woke up with the knowledge that it wasn't just a dream. It had really happened. It became her sole mission at night to make sure that she was there for you when you woke up, ready to wrap you up in her arms, to press kisses to your face, to let you know that you were safe, that she had you, that she'd never let anyone hurt you.

Therapy would help, you said, but it'd probably take a while. When the BAU got called in on a child abduction later that week, she was relieved it was in the area. She knew she'd eventually have to leave you overnight, but she wasn't ready to, not yet.

If there was one thing Emily was good at, it was compartmentalizing, and that served her well in the field. She managed not to think about you for most of the day, focused instead on the little girl who'd gone missing in a mall.

That is, until they started to suspect that the girl had been sexually abused. Emily seethed under the surface, trying her best to remain calm and collected. She needed to be calm in order to do her job.

She was calm as they broke the uncle, drawing him out, luring him into confessing that he had, in fact, been molesting his niece.

She tried to stay calm as they approached the aunt, but she hit her limit when she realized that the aunt had known. The aunt had known and had prioritized her comfort, her ignorance, over that little girl's safety and innocence.

Emily felt herself growing angrier and angrier as she grilled the aunt. Time was running out for the girl. And, now, every time Emily thought of her, she saw you. She saw you hurt and scared and betrayed with no one to help you. And it made her livid.

"She trusted you!" Emily spat. "She trusted your family, she trusted your husband. You need to tell me where she is!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," the aunt lied, avoiding Emily's eyes.

Fuming, Emily grabbed the doll Morgan and Reid had brought from the girl's house, the doll she'd desecrated and broken and dirtied as a reflection of herself. It made Emily sick to look at it. It made her sick to know that you, too, at some level, still thought of yourself this way. Because of what someone took from you, did to you.

She shoved the doll in the aunt's face, nearly spitting with rage. "This is how Katie sees herself! Self-loathing. Dirty. Disgusting. That is what your husband made her feel!"

The aunt shook her head, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

"Do you have any idea how terrified she must have been? How confused?! While you lay awake protecting an animal!" Emily railed, thinking of the nights you woke up screaming, shaking. The nights you ran to the toilet and vomited because you were that scared, that disgusted, even all these years later.

Morgan stood off to the side, watching, a concerned look on his face. Emily's impassioned questioning seemed to be working, but he could tell it wasn't just an interrogation tactic. Emily was losing control of her emotions. For now, it was working in their favor. But he'd be lying if he said he wasn't concerned.

"You robbed that little girl of her innocence!" Emily yelled, getting in the woman's face. "Are you gonna steal the rest of her life from her as well?!"

And with that, the aunt broke, revealing where she'd stashed her niece. Morgan sprinted out of the room, beckoning a team of paramedics to follow.

Emily, spent from her outburst, numbly handcuffed the aunt and led her to a waiting squad car.

Afterward, Morgan pulled her aside, making sure they were far enough away that no one else could hear their conversation.

"You alright, Prentiss?"

"Yeah," she replied tersely, looking at the ground.

"I don't mean to pry, but it feels like this one was personal for you."

Emily remembered suddenly that Morgan had been molested, too, and softened.

She met his eyes, and they just looked at each other for a moment.

"It's not me," Emily finally said.

Morgan waited, leaving her space to continue if she wanted to, and space for silence if she'd prefer that.

Emily briefly considered lying to Morgan, but he was her best friend and, honestly, she could use a friend in this with her. Especially one who'd understand like Morgan would.

"It's Y/N," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm sorry." His voice was sincere, heartfelt. It was a simple thing to say, but sometimes the simplest things said the most.

"It's... come back up recently," Emily continued, trying to toe the line between confiding in Morgan but not violating your privacy. "I think she has PTSD."

Morgan placed a strong hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "It gets better," he said. "It takes a while, but it gets better."

Emily nodded, breathing deeply.

"You know I'm here if you need me," Morgan said. It was a statement, not a question.

"I know. Thanks."

When Emily came home that night, physically and emotionally exhausted, you were in bed reading, scared to go to sleep, as you always were these days.

Emily climbed into bed, kicking her shoes off behind her, and plastering her body to yours, holding you protectively, tightly, as if she'd never let you go.

"Did they find the girl?" you asked. "Was she okay?"

"She will be," Emily whispered.

"Are you okay?"

"I will be," Emily said, resting her head on yours. "Just... let me hold you. Please. Let me keep you safe."

You leaned in and let her, and you'd never felt safer in your life.

[daydreamingqueen1]

Puppy eyes

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU! Reader (can be seen as platonic too)

Warnings: none. fluff, spencer being a bit of a germaphobe, no y/n, pretty sure is gn reader too

Summary: Spencer Reid vs puppy, need I say more

Word count: 1.3k

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It's the best day ever.

Your day had started pretty normal to be honest, you would even say it was kind of shitty since you had missed the subway you usually took for your daily commute to the BAU.

But, as wiser people say: Everything happens for a reason.

Because as you are making your way to work, your ears catch the soft sound of a creature whimpering. Trying to find the source, you give a couple tentative steps with your head turning from left to right like you are a hunting hound.

Ironically, behind the decorative bushes that surround the FBI building entrance, you find the origin of the sound.

It's not a hound but it's close enough. It's a puppy.

A beautiful, chocolate spotted puppy.

"Oh my god, sweetie, come here!" you gush automatically, your hand extending gently to reach for the animal currently crying between the bushes and the wall.

The adorable puppy looks up at you a bit hesitant at first, big brown eyes meeting yours. It gives a sniff to the air, checking the scent of your palm from afar, you almost squeal from how cute it looks.

Then it wags its tail.

You make kissy noises to coax him closer, your voice getting two tones higher, "Come here puppy!"

It works because soon enough it walks out of its hiding spot and nuzzles into your palm eagerly, tail wagging from side to side.

You practically lunge to grab the poor thing, "Look at you! You are so cute!"

The puppy doesn't seem to mind your cuteness aggression though, its fluffy body melting on your arms when you scratch behind its long ears, "You're coming home with me."

Best day ever.

But you can't just ignore your responsibilities and walk back home to stay with it, and it wouldn't be sensible to leave such a young puppy alone in your apartment either.

So you do the next most reasonable thing.

Your smile almost takes up your whole face when you walk out of the elevator with the puppy in your arms.

Penelope spots you first, immediately dropping the files on her hands on a random desk to come rushing to you, "Oh my god! Oh my god! It's that a puppy my eyes are seeing?!"

You giggle, pretty much vibrating with joy at this point, "Yes, isn't it the cutest thing ever?"

"Aww, my heart can't deal with this!" she cries, hands fanning herself dramatically.

"Where did you get it?" Prentiss chirps in, hers and almost every other head in the bullpen looking up from their desk to look at you. Well, at the puppy.

You keep walking into the office with Garcia looming all over you, "It was crying outside. This little thing was all alone in the bushes."

A hoard of agents are suddenly surrounding you, eager to get a closer look.

"You'll have to look if it belongs to someone," Morgan says, which makes you instantly pout.

"It doesn't have a collar, idiot," Emily argues quickly, "Such a profiler you are."

"I wanna keep it," you smile brightly, "I think it's a boy."

You turn the puppy onto it's back.

"Yep, definitely a boy," Morgan chuckles, he attempts to pet its head but the creature recoils in your arms, clearly overwhelmed at the amount of people.

Noticing the puppy is a bit scared, you pull back from the crowd, only then you notice a certain agent who remains seated on his desk.

“Don't you want to see it, Spencer?” you ask eagerly.

He shakes his head, his body leaning away slightly, “I can see it from right here, don't worry.”

“Oh, come on Reid, don't tell me you are afraid of dogs,” Derek never loses a chance to tease him.

Spencer gives him a flat look, “I'm not scared of dogs, I’m just aware of the amount of diseases they can transmit to humans.”

You tsk your tongue. “But he's so cute, and it doesn't look like it has rabies or anything,” you look down at the dog while approaching his desk, talking directly at it with a baby voice, “Tell me, do you have rabies, little puppy?”

It just stares blankly at you. Proof enough. “See?”

Spencer, ever the statistics expert, begins his rant, “Well, actually, rabies is not the most common disease dogs can carry, nor the only one. Illnesses that pass between animals and humans are known as zoonotic diseases and a 2007 study based in Finland shows that noroviruses are one of the leading causes of diarrheal diseases among people of all age groups and that these can survive in dogs and be passed along to– Please don't get that thing any closer.”

You chuckle at the panic look Spencer gives you when you reach his side. Truthfully, you aren't going to make him touch the puppy if he's uncomfortable with it, but a little bit of teasing is at the order of the day, “Oh, really? Come on, holding it for a second won't kill you.”

You pull the puppy up next to your face and give him your best puppy eyes, mimicking talking as the puppy, “Please? Am I not cute enough to pet?”

Spencer gives you a long look, “Yes, very cute.”

Forcing down your blush, you extend the puppy to him, “Then pet it.”

He presses his lips in a line, his hands coming up defensively as he rolls backwards on his office chair, “I think I'll pass.”

You chuckle and are about to back off when the puppy squirms in your arms, leaping out from your hands.

The scene unfolds in front of your eyes almost in slow motion. You watch how the pup flies in the air, its short body extended as a superhero.

Spencer catches it, thank god.

“Oh, no,” he squeaks when he realizes what he's done, holding the puppy as if it were about to explode, panickedly starting to name every possible disease, “Pasteurella, Salmonella, Brucella, Yersinia enterocolitica, Leptospira–”

His alarmed ramble gets interrupted by the enthusiastic puppy licking up his cheek.

You freeze for a moment, expecting him to die from a heart attack.

Spencer giggles.

“It's giving me kisses,” his face scrunches up adorably at the onslaught of affection, “It tickles, buddy.”

You can't help the relieved laugh that escapes your lips, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm going to have to wash my face with antibacterial soap though,” he chuckles as he puts the puppy down on his lap, away from further kisses.

Oh, and you've just fucked up so bad because your heart gets squeezed inside your chest at the endering sight of Spencer and the puppy staring at each other.

“You are right, he's cute,” Spencer turns to smile at you, the animal's tail wagging incessantly.

You fucked up good.

“Aww, look at you two,” Penelope says excitedly, “It even looks like you, Reid!”

Your gaze shifts back and forth from your coworker to the creature on his lap. Penelope has a point, you can kind of see the resemblance. The puppy has long ears with soft, brown curls covering them that look similar to Spencer's long hair. The cute, hazel puppy dog eyes go without saying.

Morgan snorts, “Babygirl, you are right, it kind of looks like the kid.”

You pick up the puppy and smile, “Seems like I got myself my own mini Doctor Reid,”

Spencer is about to say something back when Hotch’s office opens, both him and Rossi entering the bullpen.

“Agent, please tell me that's not a dog you have there.” Hotch gives you a stern look.

“It is not, sir,” you answer, smiling apologetically and holding the puppy closer against your chest.

He sighs, shaking his head. “Everyone to the meeting room, we've got a case.”

The puppy lets out a tiny bark, and you make your way to the meeting room before Hotch can tell you anything else.

Spencer sits next to you on the round table and whispers against your ear as everyone is filling in, “I'll help you take care of little Doc here if you decide to keep him.”

Not even the gruesome details of the case are enough to sour your mood.

Best day ever.

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yep, this was inspired by all of the MGG pictures with puppies. I am weak.

leave me a prompt if you want!

reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

hope ya liked it, byebye

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[bunbunbl0gs]

in love with spencer reid

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join my tag list here :)

[sluttywoozi]

congrats on 4k!!! it is very well deserved & i hope u reach another huge milestone 🫶🏾 for sleepover week i would just like to bring up husband joshua from sundress szn and ask what was their honeymoon like 👀

thank you so so much! omg husband joshua i'm beyond excited to visit him again

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~1.1k

Warnings: cockwarming, unprotected sex, marriage kink, petnames (honey, baby, wife, good girl), creampie

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina

Joshua wakes before you, his face buried in your neck and his body wrapped around yours. The sound of crashing waves travels through the open windows, as does the full force of the sun. He blinks slowly, raising a hand against the bright light flooding the room and scrunching his face when he sees the time. It’s early still, and he has no idea why he’s not sleeping. He kept you up late last night, christening nearly every surface in the hotel suite before finally letting you pass out after round who knows what.

He’s exhausted, his body worn out from the sex and his mind worn out from the wedding, and he can definitely feel it. He feels something else though: heat. Settled deep in his stomach, burning him up from the inside out, getting worse and worse the longer you- 

Oh. That’s why he’s awake. You’re grinding into him, your wet cunt searing hot around his hard dick. He forgot he fell asleep inside you last night and his cock feels so sensitive, but your pussy is so fucking good, he never wants to leave. 

He wakes you with a pinch to your hip and a slight thrust, murmuring a hoarse, “Morning, wife,” into your neck as you stir. You stretch, pushing back into him before you even fully wake before sleepily mumbling, “Hi, husband.” 

“Mmmm, what are our plans for the day?” Joshua asks in between kisses and nibbles along your throat. He gently cups your jaw, his hand big enough to reach from ear to ear, and turns your face to the side so he has more room to work. You pretend to think, tapping your chin with a finger, sunlight reflecting off your ring, before pushing into him again and whispering, “This?” 

He laughs into your neck, thrusting back and feeling his cock twitch when you giggle, making your sinfully tight walls contract around him. His head drops to your shoulder as he shudders, swearing quietly into your skin before wrapping his arms around your waist and bucking his hips hard against yours. You’re so fucking hot and wet around him, still fit him so perfectly even after he’s been stretching you out all night, and he has the sudden urge to thank you. To kiss you and hold you and fuck you and love you forever. And now that you’re his wife(!), those are all things he can do. 

Joshua doesn’t think he’s ever felt so giddy while having sex before, but there’s a first time for everything and he loves having his firsts with you. He wishes all of them were, but he knows that all the rest will be, and that’s enough. He’s getting strangely emotional, somehow just now fully processing what yesterday meant. What it means. 

That you’re his and he’s yours forever, and everyone knows thanks to the rings on your fingers and your hyphenated last names. 

“Love you so much, honey,” Joshua groans, releasing your face and pleading roughly, “Kiss me, need you to-“

You turn as best you can, kissing him and swallowing his words with a whine of your own as he slides in and out of you. He’s getting so deep inside, his dick bottoming out and his hips touching yours with every thrust, but he wishes he could get deeper. He wishes he could make a home inside you and live there, though he supposes making a home with you is just as good, if not even better. 

He’s getting close and he can sense that you are too, pulls you that much tighter into his chest before sliding one hand down between your legs to get you there before he does. All it takes to push you over the edge are your clit under his thumb and some words of encouragement (“Is my wife gonna cum for me? C’mon, I know you can do it, baby.”). The clenching of your cunt and your sweet, sweet sounds are enough to push him over too, and as his hot cum paints your walls, the only thing he can do is hold on tight and moan, “Love you, love you, love you, love you,” into your open mouth. 

His eyes are closed but he can feel you clinging to his arms as you come down, breathily echoing his love you’s and intentionally clenching your inner muscles just to be a little evil. He fucks into you in retaliation and opens his eyes, realizing that… he’s still hard. 

Fuck, but he came so much, he thinks, then wonders if you’d be up for another round. You met his thrust just now, even braced your hands on the bed to do so, but he figures he should ask, just to be safe. 

“Wanna go again?” Joshua whispers, pulling back just far enough for his eyes to catch yours. They’re gleaming, and you’re smiling that happy little bitten back smile, and he is so in love. 

And so, so hard. 

You nod, whispering back, “Absolutely, I do,” before he can even tell you to use your words. You really are his good girl. 

“On your back? I wanna look at you,” he breathes, struggling to keep his hips from bucking into you without his permission. His impatient body can wait until his wife is situated. 

He loosens his hold on you to let you wiggle onto your back, gathering you back up in his arms as soon as you get comfortable on the duvet. Missionary may be seen as a boring position, but Joshua thinks it’s one of the most intimate ways you can be with someone. He’s face to face with you, chest to chest, and he can look right into your eyes like he always loves to do. This is how he first made love to you, and it only makes sense to make love to you like this on your first day as husband and wife. 

He waits for you to spread your legs for him, waits for you to grow impatient and wrap them around his waist so you can pull him into you, and only when you throw your head back and whine, “Joshua!” does he line up and slide home. The warm wetness that engulfs him is blinding, intoxicating, new and exciting even as he fucks you for the nth time, and he knows he’ll never get enough.

Good thing you married him, he thinks, thrusting just a bit harder, just a bit deeper, knowing that he never needs to get enough. 

Find my masterlist here

Part 4

[twdxtrevor]

I'm just saying that's not the look I'd be giving If dsryl did that in front of me . .

[hotchnisslvr]

for her, i’d endure

pairing: emily prentiss x reader

rating: t

word count: 7.6k

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: torture, descriptions of blood/injuries, drugs

summary: When you and Emily are kidnapped by The Chameleon, an elusive unsub that team had been tracking for years, you’re forced to watch her endure torture at his hands. In the hospital, you reel from your own injuries and the guilt of not being able to stop anything from happening to her. Angst and hurt/comfort with a happy end.

It’s hard to keep them open from the pain it causes you to try. You can’t help the slow drowsy blinking that follows. If they’re closed it doesn’t hurt as bad. Maybe this is a dream. Yeah, a dream. Just close your eyes and go to sleep, you tell yourself. You’ll feel fine in the morning.

Someone harshly whispers your name. You stir, but ignore it. Closing your eyes, you murmur something that isn’t quite a response, and try to welcome the darkness to take over. You just want to sleep whatever this is off…you try to at least. The harsh rasping whisper returns. There’s your name two, three times.

“Huh?” is all you can muster as you crack your eyes open once more. There’s a fluorescent light somewhere to your left, casting strange shadows over your field of vision. Your eyes burn. You want to close them again.

“Yes, that’s it!” cries the whisperer, “stay with me!” There’s an urgency in their voice, and as you take a few measured breaths, you gain more and more control over your senses. “Are you hurt?”

Emily. That’s Emily’s voice.

“My head,” you complain about the throbbing in your temples. “I think I hit my head.” You move to touch the side of your skull to assess the damage when your wrists don’t follow through with the command from your brain.

“What the—” There’s a sudden clarity that takes over as you hear the clatter of metal against metal. Your wrists are bound behind your back. You kick your legs out, or at least you try to. They’re bound too with zip ties to the legs of a metal chair that’s bolted to the floor.

“Don’t panic.”

“Emily?”

Fingers brush against yours from behind your back and you cling to them, though it’s awkward as you try to reach them. You’d know the feel of her hands anywhere. He’s got you and her back to back.

“I’m here,” she says soothingly, despite the edge in her voice.

“What happened?” you ask as your field of vision begins to clear and the picture of where you’re being held begins to form. It's dark save the fluorescent light you noticed earlier. There’s a few panels in the ceiling still flickering to life, though most are dark. Wires and cables hang haphazardly from the ceiling and water drips from a cracked pipe that stretches over the width of the room. The floor beneath your feet is concrete. You can’t see a door and the only windows are two small rectangles high near the ceiling. You’re underground. “Where are we?”

“The Chameleon,” Emily says after a short while.

Your heart skips a beat and you have to take a few measured breaths to keep the panic from creeping in. “You’re sure?”

The Chameleon, nicknamed such by the local media, is a serial killer that you and the team had been chasing across the East Coast for the last two years.You and the team didn’t care much for these nicknames as they often sensationalize the killer and detract from the victims, but it the name was fitting due to his nature to blend in to every environment he’s been a part of. This is largely due to how he is able to gain his victims' trust. Some of his known ruses include posing as law enforcement, a member of the clergy, other first responders, caretaker for a “lost” elderly patient, and more. He’d feign a scenario that caused the victims to unlock their doors, stop their cars, or otherwise pull their focus under the guise of safety. Once their guard was down, that was all he needed to ensnare them in his trap. Victims were initially blitz attacked, as evident by the bruising to their heads and faces, but as he evolved he began to dose them with heavy sedatives before taking them to a secondary location where he’d hold them for twenty four hours. During this time, he tortured his victims indiscriminately; sometimes cutting, sometimes burning, sometimes removing pieces of them or utilizing a combination of all three before ultimately succumbing to his need to kill. He favored a knife, often slitting the throats of his victims once he’d grown tired of playing with them. Despite his ability to blend in and kidnap his victims undetected, everything else originally pointed to someone just starting out, unsure of their preferences. However, this unsub evolved quickly. Victimology stopped differing and he’d settled on a pattern for women in their thirties, dark features, and often in roles that provided some sort of power. Though methods of torture varied, the rotation or combination of torture implicated states similar enough to create a pattern. He stuck to the routine, though. One woman every three months for the last two years. That was until recently. Now, a woman had been going missing weekly, suggesting a major deviation. Something had changed for this unsub, increasing his need to kill quicker and more often. Emily fits the victimology, but taking you too? It didn’t make sense? He’d never taken in pairs before.

“Fuck,” you mutter. You pull at the cuffs around your wrists, but they’re clamped too tightly. They don’t budge. “How long was I out?” you ask.

“Hours,” Emily responds. She sounds tired. “I don’t know how many.”

You blindly reach for her fingers again, this time with your other hand. When you brush against them, they’re slick with something.

“Emily?” you ask, concern edging into your voice. “What’s he done to you?”

“Cutting,” Emily answers clinically. “Left arm, chest, and right leg. They’re superficial.”

Red clouds your vision knowing he’d hurt the woman you love, and that you’d not been conscious enough to at least try to do anything about it. When you get your hands around this bastard’s neck…you yank hard against your restraints and hiss when all it does is cause the metal to dig deeper into your wrists.

“Baby, stop,” Emily whispers, keeping her voice low in case The Chameleon can hear. “We’ve been closing in on this guy. We just have to hope the team recognizes we’re gone before…” her voice trails off as a door opens.

Your heart stops and then starts, it’s usually steady beat now pumping erratically against your chest. You remind yourself to breathe, to take measured breaths to slow your heart and fight off the instinct to panic. The body’s natural inclination for self-preservation is astounding, but you couldn’t just think about yourself right now. You needed to be alert and look for anyway to wriggle into this guy’s psyche, anything to keep him from hurting Emily any further.

There’s a metallic clank as whatever door that’s out of your eye line slams shut. Heavy footsteps echo in the space and you count. Twenty four. There’s twenty four steps. You can’t fight the way your body tenses as a silhouette begins to emerge from the shadows. As the figure comes into focus, your eyes widen in surprise.

“Surprised to see me?” the man says, a twisted smile curving on his

“You know him?” Emily asks as she attempts to crane her neck to look at him.

You take in the man before you: white, mid-30s, average build, dark curly hair, and blue eyes wild with evil intent. You don’t know his name, but you've seen him before. You all had. Your mind flashes to each body dump where the team had investigated and gathered initial evidence to further flesh out the profile. You close your eyes and let your mind’s eye expand your field of vision to include the gathering crowd of onlookers. As you mentally guide yourself through each crime scene, you can clearly see him.

“You were there the whole time,” you say with a surprisingly level of calm as you open your eyes and meet his gaze directly.

He extends his arms to either side, a look-at-all-i-have-accomplished gesture, though there’s no audience save the two of you to take in his performance. “What can I say?” he says. “The media named me for my ability to blend in anywhere I go. I like the nickname, I do.” He points his finger at you as he begins to circle around you and Emily like you’re an injured seal in shark infested waters. “Though you profilers don’t like when these major news outlets do that. It sensationalizes the killer while taking away from victims.” He stops in front of you and bends at the waist to look you in the eye. You muster as much contempt into your gaze as possible.

“Good,” he snarls. “Those sluts aren’t worth remembering anyway. Any thoughts on that, agent?”

You nod. “Yeah, actually, I think I’m pretty tired of listening to you whine about your mommy issues.” A fire ignites in his eyes as you say this. You smirk. “Ooo, that did something. Did that strike a nerve?”

His lip curls as he takes a shuddering breath.

“I think I did, didn’t I?”

His knuckles collide with your face and there’s an explosion of stars behind your eyes as you feel your lip split in two. Emily calls your name and curses the unsub’s. There’s a buzzing in your ears as you blink the fog away. You sit up as best as you can and spit blood onto the floor. If his attention is on you, it’s not on Emily.

“Is that the best you can do?” you say, leveling your gaze back on The Chameleon. “You had to hit me from behind the first time. Are you scared to face a woman head on? Too much of a coward to face them? Or are you just too weak?” You incline your head toward your lap. “After all, you’ve got us tied up. Untie me and we’ll see just how well you do one on one.”

The Chameleon seethes, nostrils flaring as his rage blossoms. “You know nothing!” he bites.

“We know, everything.” You answer. He may not have been on the team’s radar, but you’ve seen this type before; a man that’s been forced into a submissive role and emasculated his entire life finally snaps and turns the tables on innocent women to make up for the lack of care he missed out on from a mother figure his entire life. He blames them because he can’t take his anger out on the person he wants to most. Mommy.

“Do you?” he sneers and you don’t flinch away from his hot breath on your neck.

“You’re easier to read than a children’s nursery rhyme,” you taunt.

The Chameleon snarls and this time his knuckles collide with the center of your face and there’s a sickening crunch. Blood pours from your broken nose onto the front of your shirt.

“Enough!” Emily shouts. “She’s not the one you want.”

You blink through the haze and blaring pain. Emily’s name is garbled as you try to say it, but there’s too much blood in your mouth. Just like the flickering gaze of a reptile, his eyes shift instantly to her. The desire that alights his face makes you want to throw up. She’s the one that fits the victimology. She’s the surrogate, the object of desire in his twisted fantasy.

“I think,” he says slowly, and you’re surprised you don’t see a serpentine tongue flicker between his lips. “That this next part will be more fun with an audience.”

Your vision shifts in and out of focus as you follow his movements. He shuffles just out of view of your peripheral vision and trying to force your eyes to see farther than they can exacerbates the splitting pain in your skull and face. Everything throbs. You can hardly see straight.

He returns with a syringe in hand. He holds it up for you to see. “Maybe I am weak,” he says bitterly. “But I’m the one in control and there’s nothing you can do about it.” He pushes the syringe into your arm and a slow, metallic heat creeps through your veins. Your limbs quickly grow heavy and your senses begin to dull.

Behind you, Emily pulls at her restraints. “Hey! What are you giving her? Leave her alone. You don’t want her, you want me.”

A choked laugh escapes the unsub as he cuts the zip ties at your ankles. You want to kick out at him and knock that smug look off of his face but the signals from your brain are cut off. Your body won’t follow the command your mind is ordering due to the drugs scrambling your system. Your eyelids are heavy. You want to close them. The unsub recognizes this and slaps at your face. “No, no. You can’t close your eyes, now. You’ve got a show to watch.” His lips twist into a sickeningly delighted smile. He slips a key from his pocket and undoes both sets of cuffs keeping you bound to the chair. You slump forward against him and he catches your weight easily. He wraps his arms around your waist and grunts as he hoists you over his shoulder. There’s static coursing through your limbs and despite every wish and desire to lift even a finger, your limbs don’t cooperate.

You slide off of him like rain down a windowpane, though instead of coming to a gentle stop you hit the ground like a stone thrown into a pond; all of your weight crashing down. Your head rattles against the wall and stars explode across your vision once more.

Emily calls your name and you try to focus on that. You blink and her form comes into focus. She’s bound in the same manner that you were in a chair exactly like yours. There’s blood staining her clothes, her blouse cut to ribbons and her pant leg tattered from where he slit it open with a knife; the same knife he used to cut into skin. Blood drips onto the floor.

She smiles at you and her gaze is so tender as her eyes meet yours. “Whatever he does to me, it is not your fault.” She’s soothing you. She’s about to endure more torture and she’s trying to comfort you.

You want to speak, to tell her you’re sorry, that you love her. You want to stand, to untie her and take her to safety. Most of all you want to put that unsub in the ground. A single tear leaks from your eye as The Chameleon wheels a tray table near Emily. The soft eyes she reserved for you steel upon seeing him.

He picks up a scalpel, his fingers gentle as he curls them around it; a stark contrast to the violence he inflicts with it. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

Emily licks her lips and raises her chin to look him in the eye, defiant in the face of danger. “I’ve already come back from the dead once before. At least if you’re successful, I know whose ass I’m haunting first.” She narrows her brown eyes to slits. “Come on, lizard boy. Let’s dance.”

•

Tears leak down your cheeks as you’re forced to watch what he does to her. She continues to taunt him, but her voice has grown weak. She’s losing too much blood.

“I wonder,” Emily says, her breathing labored. She lifts her gaze to meet the unsub’s. “You love that knife.” She inclines her chin toward the blade in his hand and his fingers twitch. “Tell me, is it because you can’t get up? Are our mommy issues too severe?”

A wild scream tears from his throat as he backhands her. A sharp grunt of pain leaves her lips but no scream. She sheds no tears for him. She’ll show no fear to him and allow him to feed off of her emotions like he did with his other victims, but he knows she must be feeling the weight of the torture, of the exhaustion settling in.

Her voice is tired, but her words are dagger tipped. “You’re not a man,” she spits blood on the ground, her teeth stained with it as she bares them at him. “You’re just a coward, a little boy missing mommy’s hand to guide him through your pathetic, wayward life.” Each word is sharp and articulated, a needle digging a little deeper and deeper into his flesh with each cutting syllable.

“Enough!” he bellows, spittle flying from his mouth as he lifts his arm. In one swift downward motion, he plunges the scalpel into her thigh.

She screams, her voice ragged and raw. A panicked sound bubbles in your throat, but the drugs overpower your ability to call out to her. Your fingers twitch as you try to summon any amount of strength to them, but to no avail. You can’t move them anymore that. You try to wiggle your toes and only feel a tinge of movement from them. Tears leak down your cheeks and drip off of your chin. The tear stains left behind are cold overtop of the dried blood smeared across your face from your broken nose, still throbbing with pain.

Emily sits hunched over, her shoulders heave with shuddering breaths. She’s breathing. She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive. The thought plays on repeat in your mind. If she dies, there is no place this slimy, spineless creature can hide where you wouldn’t be able to find him.

A strangled moan rumbles from behind your lips as The Chameleon approaches Emily. There’s a smirk on his lips as he brushes his fingers along her jawline. Just as quickly as the smirk appears, it dissipates as he shoves her face away from him, disgust twisting his features.

“I think I’ve had enough of you,” he grits through clenched teeth. “You’re all the same. There is no place for women like you. I’m doing the world a favor by getting rid of you.” He picks up another knife off the tray table and moves to stand behind Emily, knife poised beneath her throat. His shifting eyes fall on you and his smile returns. “I hope you’ve enjoyed the show.”

You feel your brow pinch as a wash of emotion floods through you. Your hand twitches and you manage to ball it into a fist, but you can’t force much more than that.

“Emi—” your tongue lolls inside your mouth and you can’t get her name out but it’s enough to get her attention. Her wavering brown eyes fall on yours and you hope she can feel your full apology and profession of love in your eyes as you await the inevitable.

“I love you,” she mouths and a sob shudders free from your own.

A single gunshot cracks through the air like a whip.

As the unsub slumps to the ground, Derek’s hulking frame comes into view. “He’s down!” He calls as he holsters his weapon and rushes to Emily. His hand moves to the knife in her leg.

“Don’t!” Emily warns. “Let the medics handle it. The keys to the cuffs are in his pocket.”

As Derek squats beside the unsub Hotch and Spencer clamber down the stairs, spilling into the room.

“We need medics,” Derek says to them, eyes filled with concern. “We need them now.”

“Copy that,” Spencer states as he presses against his earpiece and relays the information.

Hotch holsters his gun and rushes to your side. Crouching down, his hands smooth your hair back from your face to inspect the damage.

“Can you hear me?” he says. You blink heavily as his face comes in and out of focus. He repeats the question and says your name. He’s asking you to talk to him, but you can’t.

“He injected her with something,” Emily says weakly as Derek works to uncuff her. “A sedative or a paralytic, I don’t know. She can’t move. She can’t, she can’t—” Emily’s eyes flutter and roll back in her head. Your eyes widen as she slumps forward. Derek catches her before she can face plant the concrete and risk dislodging the scalpel sticking out of her thigh before the medics can do their job to ensure she’s not at risk of bleeding out, if she wasn’t already.

Your hand twitches, fingers jerking against your palm as a sound of desperation eeks past your still lips. Hotch presses his hand into yours and squeezes. His hard eyes meet yours and there’s pain and understanding in them. He’s born witness to seeing the love of his life killed by an unsub. It was something he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. He had to hope that Emily would survive what she’d endured here tonight. He squeezes all of that hope into your palm as the medics crash down the steps, backboards and kits at the ready.

“She’ll be okay,” Hotch promises, though there’s a hint of doubt on the edge of his words. “You’ll be okay.”

As the medics make way and his hand slips free from yours, you can only hope and pray that what he says is true.

•

A gentle beeping is the first thing you hear as your senses slowly creep back to life. The sound is soft, but each punctuated tone sends a pulse of pain to the space behind your eyes.

Your eyes crack open and you squeeze them shut again as the bright white of the fluorescent lighting blinds you.

“Shit,” you hiss. Your voice is hoarse.

“Hey, you!” greets a female voice. Penelope’s voice.

“Too bright,” you grumble.

“Oh! Hold on!” Her heels click against the tile of the hospital floor, a switch flicks, and the light behind your eyelids darkens. You feel the relief immediately though the bruising around your eyes and throbbing pain reverberating through your nose and cheeks starts to overwhelm your senses as you become more alert.

You crack one eye and Penelope’s bright face comes into view. Her pink cat eared headband matches her glasses frames and lipstick. Her smile reaches her eyes and that only just eases some of the anxiety that floods your system, the only other thing you’re able to feel besides the pain. If Emily was dead, Penelope wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye right now.

“I need to see her,” you say, sitting up and immediately regretting it. The room spins and your hand flies to your head, fingers pressed against your temple in a poor attempt to stop the whirling sensation.

“Sweetie, oh my God, don’t—” she stands up and crosses the room, but you’re already pushing the sheets back.

You curse as you rip the IV from your arm, the tape holding it in place ripping out the hairs on your arm. Garcia tries to take hold of your hands, but you bury them inside the folds of the hospital gown as your fingers feel for the numerous electrodes tacked to your chest. Hooking the tips of your fingers around the wire once you find a place to bunch them together, one swift tug is all it takes to dislodge them. The machine beside the bed flat lines as it no longer receives your heart rate.

“Honey please don’t make me—” Her face scrunches as you move to stand. She sticks her arms out to block you from doing so “Oh, you’re going to make me, ok— Derek! Hotch!”

Her shouts are like a drill through your skull. You blink and black spots your vision as it blurs. The pain in your face is so intense, but you have to push through it. If Emily could endure what she did, you can push through this to get to wherever the hell they were keeping her in this goddamn hospital.

Hotch and Derek burst into the room, eyes frantic and scanning the scene. Morgan swiftly cuts through the space, swerving in front of Penelope and taking you by the arms. Garcia may have hesitated to stop you in your tracks but Derek has no reservations whatsoever.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asks sternly.

Two nurses rush into the room and Hotch placates them with a gesture implying things are under control . He says something to them in a low voice and they glance your way once before nodding and leaving the space.

“I need to see her,” you say as you push against Derek, but in your current state you may as well be trying to push the Leaning Tower of Pisa upright.

His grip around your wrists is firm, but gentle; his hands placed just above the bandages from where the cuffs had bitten into your skin.

“She’s not awake yet,” Derek says. His features soften as he looks into your panic filled eyes. “She’s stable. She’ll be okay, and I promise you that the minute she wakes up I will take you to see her.”

“But Derek—”

He clicks his tongue. “No buts. You’re no use to her if you’re not well. You nearly overdosed on the drugs that man gave you. He broke your nose so badly, they had to re-break it to set it correctly. You have a concussion. Are you hearing me? You need to get your ass back in that bed.”

“Honey, listen to him.” Garcia adds, her voice equal parts soothing and concerned. “You can barely stand.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as hot tears well in your eyes. They slip down your cheeks and seep into the medical tape plastered to your face and nose. You draw in a shuddering breath as Derek guides you back into the bed. He presses a warm hand to your shoulder before stepping back and putting an arm around Garcia.

“Come on, mama, let’s go get a coffee while the nurses get her hooked back in.”

Penelope’s mouth drops into an o-shape as if she’s about to protest.

“I’ll stay with her,” Hotch assures her. “Go. I’ll call if anything changes.” That comforts her enough to let Derek steer her out of the room and into the hallway.

As the sound of their footsteps fade away, Hotch exhales a heavy sigh. The heels of his loafers click against the tile as he crosses the room and takes the chair Penelope had been occupying at your bedside.

“How are you feeling?” he asks as he reaches over and presses the call button to summon the nurses.

“Like someone cracked me in the face with a sledgehammer.”

A hint of a smile passes over your supervisor’s lips and a ghost of a laugh passes your own. You wince as the motion sends a new wave of pain rippling throughout your face.

“How bad is it?” you ask.

“The doctors say it should heal fine. They’re baffled that the break didn’t do any damage to your septum. The bruising will take time but you won’t need surgery so—”

You lift your eyes to meet his. “Not me, Hotch.”

His lips press into a firm line. “She lost a lot of blood,” he says after a moment. “In total, he cut her about fifteen times before stabbing her. She was right to tell Morgan not to pull the scalpel out. It was dangerously close to her femoral artery. The unsub was either incredibly calculated in avoiding it or it was dumb luck that saved her.”

Your brow pinches as his words sink in. “What was his name?”

Hotch’s chin dips in response to your question. “Carson Peters. He was a Vet Tech on the perimeter of the geographic profile. We never even interviewed him.”

“The whole time we never knew his name,” you breathe.

“If I know Emily, I’m sure she came up with a few,” Hotch remarks, trying to lighten the mood.

Your lips twitch, but a smile doesn’t take shape. There is an entire slew of names you’d wanted to hurl at the unsub, to say anything that would have taken his attention off of Emily for even a second but you couldn’t because of the drugs he’d pumped into you. You squeeze your eyes shut as an image of him cutting Emily flashes through your mind.

Hotch says your name. You hear the deep tenor of his voice, but it’s as though you’re underwater. Emily’s cries of anguish echo in your ears.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as a tear leaks from the corner of your eyes. “Emily, I’m sorry.”

A firm hand slips into yours and you gasp, flinching from the contact. The image distorts and vanishes. You open your eyes and take a deep breath, dropping your gaze onto the hand in yours. You lift your eyes to meet Hotch’s hard stare. His fingers squeeze around yours and he nods.

“You’re safe,” he assures you. “Carson Peters is dead. He can’t hurt you, Emily, or anyone else ever again.”

Your fingers twitch around his as you blink back the onslaught of tears that want to pour out of you. “I couldn’t do anything.”

Hotch’s features soften. “I know.”

“I couldn’t stop him.”

“There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

You swallow the growing lump in your throat. Hotch squeezes your hand again, intentionally doing so to keep your mind from wandering. He’s keeping you grounded.

Your voice cracks when you speak. “I felt so helpless.”

“I know,” Hotch states as he levels his gaze on hours. His brown eyes waver as he speaks. “Witnessing a loved one’s abuse and not being able to do anything about it is a torture all its own. In our positions we have the authority to do something about it and in most cases, we can. When we can’t,” he pauses and takes a deep breath. “It’s natural to play it over and over again, to wonder where you went wrong, to think that somewhere along the line you could’ve done something, anything, to change the outcome.” His brow lifts toward his hairline. “We will kill ourselves ruminating on the what ifs and what could have beens.”

We. He’s not just talking about you anymore. He’s talking about his past when the unsub George Foyet killed his wife, Haley. You’d joined the team several years after her murder, but you’d been briefed fully on the case. It was well known to everyone in the BAU.

It’s your turn to squeeze his hand and you realize how out of the ordinary this exchange is. You’re as close to Hotch as anyone else on the team, but he’s not usually the touchy-feely type; the occasional half hug or handshake sure, but this level of vulnerability is uncommon.

A nurse walks into the room and Hotch stands to greet her. He shakes her hand and introduces himself formally; name, rank, and title. Establishing credibility for what, you wonder. He speaks in low tones and after a moment the nurse looks at you before looking back at him. She nods her head and he thanks her before she exits the room.

“What was that about?” you ask.

“A favor,” he answers as the nurse guides a wheelchair into the room.

“Five minutes,” the nurse says, aiming a pointed look at Hotch.

“Understood.”

The nurse leaves and Hotch pushes the chair up to the edge of the bed. He slips a hand behind your back to help stabilize you as he extends his other hand for you to grab hold of.

“Where are we going?” you ask as you take the proffered hand. You groan as you sit up and your head spins. You swear you can feel every bone in your face throbbing as pain threatens to split you in two.

“To see Emily.”

Your heart swells. You look at Hotch, eyes widening. “I thought—”

“I told the nurse you’d stay put and allow them to do their jobs and help you if you were allowed to see her. Hence, the five minutes.”

“Five minutes,” you repeat, nodding your head.

Hotch smiles reassuringly. “Five minutes.”

Slowly, Hotch assists with the transition from bed to chair. The shift exhausts you and it sinks in just how weak you are. However, the prospect of seeing Emily keeps you alert enough to push through.

The trip to Emily’s hospital room is short. She’s two right turns and one long hallway away from yours. The door to her room is cracked when you arrive and JJ opens it as Hotch reaches for the door.

“Sweetie!” JJ smiles brightly at you, though her eyes are tired. She leans down to pull you in a gentle hug, minding your face as she does so.

Her eyes flit between you and Hotch. “She’s in and out of consciousness. They’ve got her on some pretty strong painkillers, but she’s going to be alright.”

“Are you ready?” Hotch asks.

Your heart hammers in your ears, but you nod your head and whisper, “Yes.”

JJ steps out of the way so Hotch can wheel you inside the room. You raise your chin to peer over the threshold and whimper upon seeing Emily, hand moving to cover your trembling lips. She lies still beneath the sheets, which are pulled up over her lap. Her arms sit atop the sheet, her left arm bandaged from above the elbow to her wrist. Bandages peek out from beneath her hospital gown. An oxygen cannula is fitted under her nose and butterfly bandages hold close the split in her eyebrow. Hotch puts the brake in place after wheeling you right up to her bedside. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “JJ and I will be right outside. Five minutes,” he says.

Your eyes don’t leave Emily. “I understand.”

When the door clicks shut you let the floodgates open. You take Emily’s hand in yours, minding the IV jutting out from it, and cradle it to your cheek. “I’m so sorry,” you sob. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t do anything to stop what he was doing to you.”

You blink away the stars that dot your vision as each sob sends an intense wave of pain through the break in your nose and bruising under your eyes.

Emily’s thumb sweeps slowly across your cheek. You take a shuddering breath and swallow your tears as you turn your attention to her. Her eyes crack open and a small smile ghosts her lips.

You gasp and choke back a sob. The smile that splits your face sends a burst of pain through your bones, but you don’t care. It doesn’t matter. You’d feel this pain and all that she endured to see her warm, brown eyes on yours like they are now. Her smile, despite the pain meds dulling her senses, reaches her eyes and they’re so bright. As you look into them, for a moment you’re no longer in the hospital. You’re on a bench overlooking the Potomac and the sun is setting; its golden rays falling over Emily’s face and her eyes changed from brown to liquid gold. It was then you knew you’d never love looking into someone’s eyes as much as you loved looking into hers, that you’d never love anyone as much as you loved her.

You blink once and you’re back in the hospital. “I’m so sorry,” you blubber and clutch her hand to your chest. “Baby, I’m so sorry.”

Her voice is hoarse when she speaks, but the way she says your name is as soothing as ever. She shushes you and presses her fingers into your skin as she grips your hand. “Shh, baby, honey, look at me.”

You swallow and try your best to still your quivering lip as you raise your eyes to hers. Hers are focused as she looks at you. Her perfectly manicured eyebrows arch toward her hairline as she inclines her head toward you. “There is nothing that you could’ve done that would’ve prevented this, and that is okay.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head in refusal.

“Hey,” Emily says, pulling you back in. “Look at me.”

You sniff and take a deep breath as you open your eyes. “If anything,” she adds. “Your being there saved my life. He drew out the torture because he had an audience. If you hadn’t been there, there’s a chance he would’ve killed me before the team got to him. Do you understand?”

Your gut response tells you that she’s right, and you have to fight the part of your brain that’s telling you otherwise.

Her hand slips out of yours and reaches to cup your face, keeping her palm along your jawline to avoid your injuries.

She smiles and gestures to herself with her other hand. “Most of this is superficial anyway. The knife he jammed into my thigh will scar and take a while to heal, but that’s the worst that was done to me. I was,” she presses her lips together as tears glisten in her eyes. “I was so worried about you.”

Something between a laugh and a sob escapes your lips. “We make quite a pair, don’t we?”

Emily laughs in turn, the sound enough to make your heart swell three times over. “At least we’ll be able to spend our recovery together,” she says hopefully.

You smirk and tilt your head, considering. “My place or yours?”

Just then the door creaks open and Hotch steps inside. He smiles. “Sorry to cut the reunion short, but if I don’t get you back, I think the charge nurse will have my gun and badge.”

You all share a laugh. As he fixes the brake on the wheelchair, Emily tugs your hand toward her mouth and places a soft kiss to the backs of your knuckles. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You smile and nod as the tight feeling in your chest from before ebbs away. “Okay.”

As Hotch exits the room with you in tow, JJ hands you two cups of coffee. “For you and your watchdog,” she says with a nod towards Hotch.

You thank her and as Hotch pushes you back towards your room, you finally feel like things will be okay.

•

Two weeks later, you’re still on medical leave, but you feel as though you're getting back to normal. You’d been released from the hospital first and a few days later, Emily. Her apartment was bigger, so you’d gone to yours and with help from Penelope packed a bag. It was easier for you two to be in the same place knowing how often the team would be checking in.

Garcia had stayed over with you, helping you keep track of the medications the doctors had prescribed. She helped take care of Sergio too. The little guy had been all too happy to see you, weaving in between your legs and rubbing his furry head against your calves. When Emily returned home a few days later he couldn’t stop meowing. When she rested, he’d fall asleep beside her or curled up in her lap.

Just as expected, members of the team had been through in pairs, on their own, or as a whole. Penelope stopped in daily with coffees and pastries from the shop next to Emily’s building. Derek came by every other day, occasionally with Savannah when her work schedule allowed. She’d checked Emily’s wounds a few times from your insisting as you were worried about infection. Savannah assured you each time that Emily was and would continue to be fine so long as she kept up with changing her bandages and taking the antibiotics she’d been prescribed. Hotch had only visited once, which was unnecessary but still so kind of him. You knew he often stayed late working to ensure everyone else could go home on time. He did this all while balancing his responsibility as a father and the fact that he sacrificed a little bit more of his personal time just to check in on you two meant so much. Rossi had sent homemade Italian with Penelope or Derek. This week you’d been given enough carbonara to feed an army.

You’re fixing two bowls now for you and Emily, a late dinner as you’d both fallen asleep around 3pm and napped until 7pm no thanks to the pain medicines that kept you two on relatively similar sleep schedules. You shred some parmesan and sprinkle it over the top before sticking a fork into each.

“I’ve got dinner!” you call as you make your way back to the bedroom.

“Thank god, I’m starving.” You push open the door with your hip and place the bowls on Emily’s bedside table.

You lean down and kiss her, wincing slightly. The bruising around your eyes and cheekbones has gone down dramatically, but your nose was still bound and held in place by a splint and medical tape. The doctors say in about a week or so, it should be healed completely but to still exercise caution with day to day activities.

Emily rests on top of the covers. Her hair is up and out of her face in a loose ponytail, pieces of which had fallen out while sleeping and now stick to and around her face in various places. You try your best to smooth them down before cupping her chin in your hand. You smile and stroke your fingers along the smooth skin of her jaw before dropping your hands to pull the throw blanket down off of her waist, exposing her legs, bare except for the plaid pajama shorts she wears and bandages wrapped around her thigh.

She shivers in response to the air against her legs. “Sheesh, give a girl some warning!” she protests and you throw her a cheeky grin.

You open the bedside drawer and retrieve the supplies to clean and dress her wound. “We should finish the rest of that movie,” you suggest as you climb onto the bed to kneel beside her. Using a small pair of scissors, you carefully snip away the bandages to reveal the square gauze pad covering the wound. “I want to know how it ends and we keep falling asleep.”

Emily snorts. “That’ll happen when we both take narcotics before bed thinking we’ll make it to the end.”

“Yeah, but,” you remove the gauze and inspect the incision, searching for any signs of infection around the twelve carefully placed stitches. As you squeeze a bit of the antibacterial ointment onto your finger and gently rub it over the spiky black threads of the sutures, you can’t help but think of how much it resembles the caterpillars that used to invade the trees in your backyard as a kid, a story Emily did not care for your retelling when you first did this. “It shouldn’t be so hard to make it through a two hour movie.”

“I still can’t believe you’ve never seen The Parent Trap,” Emily says, bristling as your fingers rub over a particularly sensitive area.

You apologize as you lay a fresh gauze pad over the wound. Your fingers move quickly as you unroll and wind a new roll of bandages to keep the gauze in place. When you finish, you wipe your hands off and gently massage the skin around her thigh knowing it helps to stimulate blood flow to the area.

Emily moans in response to the treatment. Her head lolls to the side and she peeks at you from behind long lashes. “I can’t wait to show you how grateful I am for your incredible nursing skills.”

You arch a brow at her as a smile quirks at the corner of your mouth. “Down girl,” you tease playfully.

Emily bends her opposite leg, raising her heel to curve around your body. She pokes her toes up under your tee shirt and your back stiffens as they touch your skin. You reach behind your back and grab her by the ankle, chastising her as you laugh and place it back on the mattress. “Emily!”

“What??” she asks, laughter tumbling from her full lips.

“We’ve not been cleared yet for that!”

She pouts in response and you clamber over her, carefully, so as not to disturb the injuries of her leg. You straddle her waist and lean down to place a soft kiss along the curve of her jaw. “Trust me, I want to get back to that as much as you do.” Your eyes drop to the swell of her breasts, her nipples poking through the thin fabric of her camisole. “But you and I both know neither one of us are capable of having gentle sex, and I don’t think our doctors would be happy if we did anything to make this take any longer than it already is.”

Emily groans in frustration. “Stupid doctors and their stupid orders.”

You laugh as you lean down to grab your dinners off her nightstand. Carefully, you lift your leg and roll over her body to your side of the bed; passing Emily her bowl as you do so. You reach down and pull the throw blanket up over both of you as you snuggle into the uninjured half of her body. She turns and places a kiss on your temple as she grabs the remote and clicks on the tv.

As she twirls pasta around on her fork, she turns to you and smiles. “I’m glad you’re here with me,” she says, eyes twinkling.

You smile in turn. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be than with you here, right now, at this moment in time.”

“I love you,” she says.

“Not as much as I love you,” you answer.

“Impossible,” Emily promises.

[demonicbaby666]

Nap Time

one shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: BAU family x Reader

Genre: drabble/office fun

Words: 651

A/N- I legit hate the title for this but my brain is not working and I cannot think of anything else. Anyways enjoy!

It was already 7pm and you still had work to do, knowing exhaustion was already subduing your body you decided the best course of action would be to take a nap in your secret napping area. You were certain no one knew you’d often creep under your desk during long workdays and sneak in a little rest bite. You did a quick scan of the room to check if anyone could see you before ducking under your desk and draping a shawl over you. 

Setting a timer for 30 minutes, you let sleep steadily wash over your body, curled up nice and secure in your napping nook. When your eyes fluttered open, it was not by your alarm going off, the absence of the sound was reassuring as you had yet to feel fully rejuvenated. Though your head perked up when there was a flash right before your eyes and you squinted at the assaulting bright light. 

Laughing in front on you was Morgan holding up his phone, your chair was pushed to the side and realisation dawned on you that you had been discovered. The moment Morgan saw you becoming alert, he went into action mode and tried to run off. You grabbed his ankle trying to hoist yourself up and simultaneously stop him from running off with the embarrassing evidence he had just obtained. Hitting your head on the desk you still manged to trip Morgan, but he was quick on his feet to recover and threw his phone to Rossi unexpectedly.

When he looked at the phone and back to your disgruntled state a burst of laughter erupted from his lips. “Now that’s a keeper. Look you can see the pool of dribble!” He teased.

“Rossi delete that!” You called out, finally emerging fully from the once peaceful sanctuary of your desk. You power walked over to the older man trying to reach for the pesky device in his hand, but he didn’t give you the opportunity to grab the phone as he threw it to Emily. Who in turn bit her bottom lip trying not to laugh, her attempt was very unsuccessful. 

With the phone seeming to continuously be out of reach you felt like you were prey in a den of lions, they had you playing a game of cat and mouse. You darted from agent to agent, losing more and more of your dignity as they all beheld the image of you sleeping peacefully. 

“Reid come on!” you shouted as the phone was once again thrown, this time to JJ. Out of everyone in the team you believed JJ was the most sensible and considerate. So, what came next was a complete shock.

“I’m sorry.” She said with a tight-lipped smile looking sympathetically at you. Everyone’s phone in the office dinged and you threw her head back in frustration. Guess there was no more desk naps for you.

“I hate you guys.” you huffed, pulling out your own phone to look at the monstrous photo you’d yet to have the privilege of seeing. 

Beyond pissed off you made your way to JJ and whispered in her ear, “I’m going to get you back for this later. Sleep with one eye open you beautiful monster.” A chill ran down the blonde’s spine and when she turned to look at you wide eyed you couldn’t help but cackle at the fear plastered on her face.

Yanking the phone from her hand, you walked over and shoved it into Morgan’s chest, “You’re going to pay for this baldy. Big time.” 

Morgan burst out laughing and pulled you in, draping his arm around your shoulder, he ruffled your hair, “Whatever you say tiny.” 

When you sat back at your desk Hotch appeared above you sporting his signature smirk, “Good nap?”

Your reply came in the form of a groan as you defeatedly smacked your head against the desk. 

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Fear of Falling [Emily x Reader]

Photo credits: Center (@chanelmonamour) Left and Right (@foxy-eva)

Prompt: Emily and the non-BAU reader meet each other due to a game of truth or dare that does not turn out how either of them expected. 

Pairing: Emily x female reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns 

Category: Comfort/fluff/smut

Word Count: 13.3K 

A/N: Hi, loves! First off this story is 18+ Minors DNI. Please respect this boundary. Content warnings are below the cut. I hope you had a fun and relaxed Christmas/Holiday season. The lovely @shqtteredcrystql1 requested a fic with a reader who had never dated a woman before and is not very experienced with intimacy. I loved this idea and jumped on it, and it grew from there. It seems I’m not able to write anything short anymore. I also included a lot of “pick your own” options, but you can just jump into the story and go back when you get to one of those options. If you like this, I might write a second part. Lastly, my requests are open. If you'd like to submit a request/idea, please see this post, CM Request Post (linked) With all that being said, I hope you all like this, it was so fun to write! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! - Love Levi -❤️

Content Warnings: Drinking [reader and Emily], unwanted physical touch, mention of workplace harassment, sex [oral, fem receiving (reader)]. If I missed any, please let me know.

List with all stories 

_y/n_ = your name 

_y/c/h_ = your color hair 

_y/f/c/l_ = your favorite color lipstick 

_y/f/b/o/b_ = your favorite brand of bag

_y/f/s_ = your favorite scent 

_y/j_ = your job 

_y/h/t_ = your home town 

_y/f/c_ = your favorite color 

_i/s/p/h_ = insert special person here (mom/dad/guardian/friend/mentor etc.) 

_y/e/w/m/b_ = your experience with men before (if you don’t have any, then say that) 

_w/y/d/w/ys_= what you’ve done with yourself before 

The tap on _y/n_’s shoulder surprised her. _y/n_ was so absorbed in her own thoughts that the physical contact had her whip her head to the right. _y/n_ didn’t expect to see a very pretty, keen-eyed woman who was sporting a rather bashful smile on such a pretty face. Any annoyance _y/n_ had felt at being disturbed melted away and she relaxed as little. _y/n_ said, “Sorry, you scared me. Is there something I can do for you?” The woman flushed and replied, “Don’t be sorry. I should have said something before. I just wanted to give you this.” The woman handed her a small piece of paper that was folded into fours. Before _y/n_ could even ask the tall brunette her name, the woman was walking with a determined pace back toward the group she had come in with. With incredulity, _y/n_ opened the note. There were just a few words scribbled in semi-sloppy penmanship saying, “Emily Prentiss 512 - 198 - 4459. Call me if you’re interested/open.” The simple note had _y/n_’s head whip up once more and looked at Emily’s retreating figure. _y/n_ had noticed Miss Prentiss when she walked into the bar. _y/n_ thought, “I mean, how couldn’t you notice her? She’s the prettiest person in this joint.” _y/n_ had tried to not gawk for about ten minutes until she got a text that had soured her whole mood. Had pulled her mind away from the beautiful woman sitting at a table full of friends and laughter, unlike her own. Now _y/n_’s mind was fully back on Emily. Looking at Emily’s beautiful figure, _y/n_ thought that there was no way that someone so lovely would be marginally interested in her. Just as _y/n_ felt a spark of excitement, and hope after a very long week, it was snuffed out immediately when Emily got back to her table and a chorus of laughter erupted from her friends. _y/n_ didn’t see Prentiss’s face as she sat back down, or how flushed she was. All _y/n_ could interpret from that interaction was that she had, yet again, been the butt of someone else’s joke. _y/n_’s inner voice said, “What, you’re surprised? This isn’t new, _y/n_. Get a grip. It’s just the first time this has happened with a woman.” And though it was cruel, it was true. _y/n_ had been let down by lots of men before, but she had started to question if men were something she was even interested in. Not that she had much physical experience with men to begin with, but even with that being the case, _y/n_ had started to be drawn to women more. Those types of thoughts had always lingered in her mind, even since childhood, but she had suppressed them. Thinking, “That can’t be me. I must be making it up.” But the more, _y/n_ interrogated those thoughts, the more she realized she had feelings for women were just as strong, if not stronger as those she held for men. What this all meant, _y/n_ wasn’t sure, but her encounter with Emily did have her feeling very good about her chances. The bartender was perceptive to _y/n’s disappointment and asked, “You look like you need another drink, sweetie. What can I get you?” _y/n_ looked at him with half-blurred eyes from tears and said, “The strongest, cheapest thing you’ve got. Keep ‘em coming.” 

While this was all transpiring, Emily was blushing like a mad woman. The young lady who she had given her number to was pretty. There was a look about her, a sort of glow that permeated the space she sat near. If she wasn’t with Derek, Spencer, JJ, and Garcia, Emily would have happily planted herself next to the woman and basked in her glow for hours. But Prentiss, for heaven’s knows why, had agreed to play truth or dare with the members of the team. It was the moment that Derek had suggested the game that Aaron and Rossi agreed it was time for them to head out. Once their superiors were gone. Morgan smiled and said, “Alright, we draw straws to see who gets to ask the first question. Remember, you get to pick truth or dare, but once you’ve chosen, you’re locked into that choice.” Everyone nodded in agreement. Penelope had drawn the short straw which let her ask the first question. The questions and dares had started simple like asking about small embarrassing stories or minor challenges for the dares, but as the drinks flowed, the conversation had gotten more personal. There had been two rounds with Emily picking dare each time, and she wasn’t planning on stopping now. As much as she loved her friends, the team didn’t need to her about her sex life or dating woes. Revealing any of those details would only expose how lonely she had been for the last four months. So when it came down to her turn again, with JJ asking the question, Emily happily said, “Dare.” JJ had been expecting this and planned her dare well, saying, “Give your phone number to the most attractive person in this bar right now.” Emily’s eyes widened at the challenge. It was the best one yet. Derek doing push-ups in the corner was not nearly as interesting as making Emily pick the most attractive person in a bar. Emily shot JJ a small look. Just last week she and the empathetic media liaison had been talking about dating and JJ’s upcoming engagement party. Emily had revealed to JJ that she hadn’t even tried seeing anyone for months. That she’d slightly given up on the dating scene. JJ’s dare was a soft push to try again. The glow from the woman at the bar had drawn Emily’s attention again, and Prentiss pulled out a small notepad, tore out a page, and wrote a quick message. Emily had never had success with giving her number to people, but heck, she didn’t see how it could hurt now. The interaction with the stranger was quick, but whoever she had given her number to, was so beautiful with her _y/c/h_ and _y/f/c_ lipstick. Even though it was less than a minute-long interaction, Emily felt like some of the stranger's warmth had rubbed off on her. As Emily made it back to the table, the group cheered her on. Little did they know, their claps and laughter were having such a negative effect on the woman sitting at the bar and looking at Emily’s turned back with a deep sense of longing. 

A half-hour later, the BAU members had sobered up considerably and planned on heading out. As they all got out of their chairs, Derek looked over to the bar and said to Emily, “You might want to reconsider accepting messages for that girl you gave your number to.” Prentiss quirked an eyebrow in confusion. Before she could ask, Derek took her shoulder and turned her one-eighty degrees to face the bar. It took a microsecond for Emily to see the aforementioned woman at the bar laughing at some guy's joke. As Emily looked closer, the man had his large splotchy hand on the small of the woman’s back. Worse still the guy started slipping his hand under the back of the woman’s shirt. That was enough for Emily to want to step in. Something, be it intuition or personal experience, told Prentiss that if this lovely woman was sober, she’d have told the guy invading her privacy off minutes ago. As Emily stepped forward, Garcia asked, “Do you want me to wait for you?” Prentiss nodded her head no and said, “I’ll take an Uber back. Thanks for picking me up, Penelope.” Garcia smiled and said, “Of course baby. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Emily nodded and turned, but Penelope stopped her once more by saying, “And Emily, don’t bite his head off. I don’t think Hotch would appreciate that.” Prentiss gave her friend a small, reassuring smile before turning on her heel and moving quickly to the bar. 

Once Emily had reached the bar, she stepped between the man and the woman. Before the man could protest, Emily said, “Hey sis. Sorry, I lost you. Collin talked my ear off at the restaurant. You should have called me and told me you moved to a bar. I would have joined you a half-hour ago.” Emily mentally crossed every part of her body that could be crossed, and some parts that couldn’t, that her ploy would work on the man breathing heavily behind her. There was a tense minute before the man slipped away and back to the upstairs section of the bar. When the creep had gone, the woman turned her head toward Emily. Her cheeks were severely flushed and the woman said, “Good job, you had your laugh and white knighted. You can leave me alone in my misery now.” Emily’s brow furrowed a bit at the comment. She got the “White Knight” bit; she had swooped in like some kind of savior, but Prentiss didn’t like the way that guy had been touching the inebriated woman in front of her. But the bit that she didn’t understand was the laughing bit. Emily hadn’t laughed at the woman. The added comment about misery had Prentiss look at the woman more closely. _y/n_ kept Emily’s gaze. She might be upset, but that didn’t mean she was going to miss out on looking at someone as radiant as Emily. Even if she’d made fun of her, Emily was still brilliant. _y/n_ reasoned, “When am I going to get to see someone so pretty again? Might as well enjoy it.” The fact that _y/n_ was drunk was also helping. 

While the yet unnamed woman looked at Emily, the profiler took a closer look at her face. It seemed the cheerful facade from a few minutes earlier had slid off like bad veneers. The woman did look miserable. As Emily looked at her, she could see the apathy in the woman’s eyes. The dark circles from lack of sleep or stress. Prentiss asked, “Why did you say I was laughing at you? Is that what’s making you so sad?” Emily felt an odd desire to comfort the woman in front of her. To understand where the look of resigned desperation was coming from. _y/n_ sniffled and said, “Well you know. Go up to someone, get their hopes up, make them think that they’re something, and then go back to the table with your friends and have a big old laugh about it. Like ‘Hahaha Good one, Emily, I bet she bought that. Like I’d touch that with a ten-foot pole.’” _y/n_ was crying now, feeling re-humiliated. 

As Emily heard the story of JJ’s dare from the woman’s perspective, her face fell. She hadn’t meant her giving her number to come off as some kind of cruel prank, and Emily said, “Hey, …. Um, what’s your name?” _y/n_ murmured, “_y/n_,” into a napkin, as she wiped at her nose which was now unbecomingly dripping due to the crying. Emily placed a hand on _y/n_’s shoulder and said, “_y/n_. I am so, so sorry if me and my friends' actions felt like we were mocking you. Treating you like a game.” _y/n_ looked up at Emily, and with a sharpness in her voice, she said, “Well what was it then? Because it certainly felt like one to me.” Emily wondered how to phrase her next response. She felt horrible for making _y/n_ feel this way. In all honestly, Prentiss thought about lying and saying that her friends had just made a joke when she got back to the table, and everyone had laughed at the right time. _y/n_ was drunk enough that she wouldn’t remember the lie in the morning. But Emily didn’t believe in starting relationships, even friendships based on a lie. Emily took a deep breath and said, “Let me tell you what happened, please?” _y/n_ nodded that she was listening, even as her face still burned in shame. 

Emily swallowed once before saying, “My friends and I were pretty tipsy already. We decided to play truth or dare.” This had _y/n_ freeze, because it fucking confirmed that it had been a game. Emily continued anyway. “I’d been going on all night about being lonely and crap and then you walked in, and I kind of stopped talking. I was just captivated by you.” Prentiss remembered how Spencer had had to tap her to get her attention away from _y/n_. Derek had teased her, “Someone caught your eye, Em?” To which she had blushed furiously. Derek then said, “You should give her your number you know.” That was where JJ had gotten the idea for her next dare from. Emily blinked and said, “Well my friends had seen how I’d reacted to your very presence, and my friend dared me to give my number to the the most attractive person in the room. And that was you. I swear that my friends didn’t mean it as a joke. I didn’t mean it as a joke. You are the most pretty person in his building, on the block, in the whole city, I swear.” _y/n_ looked up at Emily, eyes, still red, and asked, “Then why did they laugh when you got back?” As _y/n_ reflected, given the new context, perhaps she had been overthinking again. But that didn’t explain the laughter. 

Prentiss sighed and said, “I have a bit of a tough guy reputation at work. It’s unusual for me to be so nervous about something. That’s why they laughed.” A hint of understanding came to _y/n_’s eyes and she said, “Why would you be interested in me? I’m nobody special.” Emily patted _y/n_’s hand and replied, “_y/n_, I know I don’t know you at all, but you’re certainly not a nobody. I think you’re far from nobody.” _y/n_ blinked back fresh tears and said, “Well you’re the first person to see me like that in a long time. I’m sorry I’m so emotional. This is so embarrassing. I think I’ll go home.” _y/n_ really felt like getting under her heavy covers and sleeping for two months, hoping to wake up and have her whole life changed, and particularly to forget tonight. 

Emily nodded, getting out of her chair to make room for _y/n_. Prentiss wasn’t sure _y/n_ had really sobered up enough to drive or even call a cab, so she was going to ensure that _y/n_ got back home, wherever that was, safe. Once _y/n_’s feet hit the ground, she listed forward. Emily could immediately tell that _y/n_ would need help getting home and said, “_y/n_, let me call you an Uber or a Lyft. You shouldn’t be trying to drive after, well, after tonight I think.” _y/n_ brushed Prentiss off and said, “I just live two blocks down. I didn’t drive here. I’ll be fine.” The false cheeriness was back and this didn’t make Emily feel any better. The agent replied, “Well, it’s good to hear that you’re not driving, but can I walk you back to your place? Just to your front door.” Emily knew this wasn’t like her, but she wouldn’t just let _y/n_ walk out of the bar while she was still pretty sloshed. Furthermore, Emily still felt bad about the dare. The unintended impact it had had on _y/n_ seemed to weigh Prentiss down. After a moment, _y/n_ nodded and slurred, “Yeah, sure.” Emily let out a small breath of relief. The pair moved out of the bar, and _y/n_ led the way on unshakey feet. Emily ended up having to keep _y/n_ up a few times, as they walked down the two blocks. As _y/n_ took a left at a red light, the luxury houses came into view. Prentiss knew the area was rich, but not that rich. Emily looked over at _y/n_ and gently, trying to be sensitive, asked “Are you sure this is where you live?” _y/_ scoffed and said, “Listen, I’m no Daisy Buchannan, alright. One of the older ladies who lives in the neighborhood had a mother-in-law suite that she never uses. She rents it out. I was lucky enough to find the advertisement before anyone else. I don’t think she understands inflation. I barely pay anything for it. I do help her with her yard when she asks me to make up for it. I get lucky because I could never afford it at full price.” After that, there was a soft silence as they walked one more block. Emily assumed the drinks had _y/n_ speaking so candidly. It wasn’t something Prentiss would do with a stranger. Even a hot one. At the end of the street _y/n_ stopped at a little gate that had an old-looking lock on the side. Emily watched as _y/n_ fished through her bag and produced a set of keys that jingled like a bell as _y/n_ attempted to find the right one. When _y/n_ had, she shakily put it in the lock, but her fingers trembled and she dropped the keys into a small dirty puddle on the red brick sidewalk. This happened once more before Emily stepped in and unlocked the gate for _y/n_. Prentiss put her hand on the small of _y/n_’s back and led her over the uneven stone path that went to a very small house that was in the shadow of a huge art deco style mansion. Suddenly the reference to The Great Gatsby made sense. _y/n_ didn’t even try for the two locks on her door. Instead, she found the right key and handed it to Emily to unlock. The brunette easily opened the door and helped _y/n_ to the couch in the space. She turned on the lamp on a small table. With the cozy space illuminated by the soft lamplight, Emily moved back to the couch and asked, “Do you have everything? Your ID, wallet, cell phone, or anything else important?” _y/n_ pulled her _y/f/b/o/b_ into her lap and rifled through it again. When _y/n_ pulled out all of the things Emily had said, there was awkward silence which Emily broke by saying, “I’m gonna head out now. I’m sorry again for tonight.” _y/n_ nodded and watched as the tall woman quickly left the room like this was the most normal thing that had happened to her this week. _y/n_ sighed in resignation and just sat for a few minutes once Prentiss was gone. 

When _y/n_ had composed herself, she moved to her bedroom, stripped, and moved to the bathroom to take a hot shower. As _y/n_ stepped under the shower head and lathered _y/f/s_ed soap over her body, she reflected on how the night had gone. Embarrassingly. Almost as embarrassing as when she’d been invited to a fraternity dance and then found out the day that her date had asked someone else behind her back. It had been humiliating. This night had been the same, except on this occasion, it had been her fault as she had partially misinterpreted the situation. Not that the situation was totally easy to understand, but still, it was awkward. When _y/n_ had taken off her tweed pants, Emiy’s phone number fell out of the pocket. _y/n_ had considered crumpling it up and throwing it in the trash, but her heart had told her to keep it in case she ever got the nerve to text Emily. Given how the night had gone, she doubted it would ever happen. But despite her negative attitude, _y/n_ folded the phone number in two and put it in the top drawer of her bedside table. As _y/n_ finished her shower, she hoped she would wake up feeling better or having forgotten the whole evening. Once the shower was over, _y/n_ slipped into her pajamas, and slumped onto the bed and under the covers. She turned off the light and quickly fell asleep. 

Unfortunately, in the morning, neither of her wishes had come true. Her head pounded from a hangover, and _y/n_ remembered the whole fiasco with Emily too. _y/n_ groaned and got up. She stumbled to the bathroom and drowned a glass of tap water and two aspirin. She’d overslept and she would need to rush to get to work on time. _y/n_ just barely made it to _y/j_. This had been happening more and more often recently. At the beginning of the year, _y/n_ had finally landed a job that she was excited about. But as it turned out with most things that seemed too good to be true, the job had ended up being more of a pain. There was a high turnover rate, and _y/n_ ended up taking on projects and work that weren’t under her purview. Because of this, her performance plummeted due to not being trained on her new tasks. And another problem had come up as well. Her manager, who had seemed cool and understanding in her three interviews had turned out to be more of a bother than a help. He had started making small comments about her appearance, and then he’d started offering to take her out to dinner or drinks, and he’d become more and more insistent about getting to know her better outside of work hours. Things hadn’t escalated too far. That was until the previous day. The older man had called her into a private meeting and threatened to cut her pay if her performance didn’t improve. And he’d personally told her he would train her on the things that she didn’t know, but only if she’d go with him to drinks that weekend. _y/n_ had wrestled all day with whether to contact HR about the man’s unwanted advances. Now that things had escalated to threats it seemed justified. However, she was so new to the job, and HR and everyone seemed to love her boss. That had led to a personal crisis, thus the night of drinking at the bar. As _y/n_ reflected, she steeled herself for the day and just decided for the moment to deal with it. To do her job, ignore everything and everyone, and solely work. _y/n_’s bosses harassment and threats, along with _y/n_’s avoidant behavior went on for another week. The man remained relentless. That afternoon he had even touched _y/n_. His hand trailed it down to her lower back. The sensation made _y/n_ want to scream. The tension built for the week and _y/n_ let everything in her personal life fall apart, including her house. 

That Friday she had a panic attack in the bathroom and decided enough was enough. She went to HR and told them about what had been happening. About her discomfort and the growing threats. _y/n_nwas eternally grateful to be taken seriously and the personnel team took her statement and promised to look into the matter discreetly. When _y/n_ got home that day, she decided it was finally time to clear up the mess she’d left behind. It took a good four hours with her bedroom being the last thing she decluttered, swept, and put back together. The top drawer of her nightstand had accumulated lots of junk and receipts, and _y/n_ quickly moved to throw them in the small trashcan by her bed. However, a folded slip of paper made it out of her hands and fluttered to the floor. _y/n_ sighed as she threw away the rubbish and bent down to grab the last piece of trash to get rid of it. _y/n_ didn’t recognize it and unfolded it. It was Emily’s note from a few weeks back. The instant _y/n_ saw the neat handwriting, Emily’s bright face flashed into her vision. Prentiss’s dark eyes and the way she spoke with a confidence _y/n_ lacked. The beautiful woman’s image seemed burned into _y/n_’s mind. Of course, she remembered the embarrassing parts of the evening as well, but something about Emily Prentiss had engrained itself in _y/n_’s head. _y/n_ held the paper in her palm and sighed. She moved to the kitchen and started cooking a simple meal. She sipped on a glass of wine and pondered if it was too late to text the woman back. _y/n_ realized that she’d never get Emily out of her mind unless she did something about it. _y/n_ pulled up her phone. She started a new message and input Emily’s number. _y/n_ tapped the counter before finally texting: 

Hey, Emily. This is _y/n_ from that bar on 6th Street. I’m really sorry if I made the end of your evening awkward or if you had other plans. You were nice to me, and I want to thank you for that. I hope you're having a good start to your weekend. - _y/n_. 

With that, _y/n_ hit the send button and then promptly moved her phone into her bedroom, not wanting to see if she got a response. Instead, she moved back to the kitchen, stirred her two pans with a wooden spatula, and metaphorically patted herself on the back. She’d done a brave thing, which for _y/n_ was not something that came easy to her. In fact, over the last few weeks, she’d been finding herself doing more and more brave things, and this was the latest of them. _y/n_ didn’t particularly like change, confrontation, or anything that would have made her stand out in any way. _y/n_ hadn’t always felt good about herself, and adding a spotlight to her actions was the last thing she wanted. But moving to D.C. from _y/h/t_ had been a change she had hoped would push her out of her comfort zone. It might have taken about eleven months, but _y/n_ was finally beginning to think, that maybe, it was happening. After dinner and some light reading, _y/n_ moved to her room. It was a bit early for her to go to bed, but she felt the call of the mattress. _y/n_ slipped into her pajamas and moved under the covers. Before going to bed, _y/n_ grabbed her phone to set an alarm. She’d sleep in, but she didn’t want to waste the whole next day in bed. As her phone blinked on. There was a text from a number she didn’t know. With her heart skipping a beat, _y/n_ unlocked her phone and opened her messages. There was a simple reply to her previous text to Emily. It read: “Hey, _y/n_. It’s good to hear from you. Unfortunately, work has me busy and out of town, but I hope you’re doing well and feeling okay. Keep your head up. Emily.” Although the text was short and simple and didn’t quite open the dialog for further conversation, that hadn’t exactly been _y/n_’s goal. The goal was doing the hard thing, and it had been done and there had been a nice reply as a cherry on top. So, with that, _y/n_ set her alarms and went to sleep contented. 

Emily looked down at the hard ice under her. It was glossy. So glossy that she could see her reflection almost. The sound of the other skaters' laughter and skates against the ice made her sigh. The ice had just been smoothed by the Zamboni. Emily had known it was a bad idea to go out on the ice when it was so slick. However, she had waited a whole half-hour for Benette from Hinge to show up. He had seemed nice, He had blue eyes and a kind smile. One that seemed normal enough to be someone real and not a catfish. They had texted for two weeks and spoken on the phone once before he’d offered to take her on a date to the ice skating rink. The idea had been a new one to her. Most of the people who she went out with on-first-but-never-second-dates, took her to bars or dinner. The prospect of not drinking or eating had been refreshing, and Benette had been original, which put him on the plus side of things. However, the fact that he was so late began to irk Prentiss. When the half-hour mark came and went, Emily gave up on the man in private equity, rented her skates herself, and ventured out on the ice. She was already here, why not take a lap or two? She had only made it halfway around the rink before she ate it. The ice against her legs reminded Emily that she wasn’t sixteen anymore. She was sure there would be a bruise on her hips in the morning. And when she got to work on Monday, Derek would ask why she was limping and she’d have to explain. Then Morgan would laugh and gently tease her about being a geriatric, and by that point, she would have forgotten how her second date in a row had stood her up. Emily rested her hand on the frozen water before getting ready to get up onto unstable, cold, wet, legs. Before she had a chance, a skater, who had been moving quite quickly over the ice stopped neatly in front of her. There was a pair of white skates and _y/f/c_ leg warmers. 

After a second, Emily looked up to see who exactly was offering her a hand up. From the attire, she highly doubted it was Benette unless he had a very big secret to tell her. But when Emily’s eyes settled on the person in front of her, she recognized the face. It took a second before she realized she knew that face. At this point, Emily was back on her feet thanks to the hand up, and only then did she say, “Hey _y/n_. Fancy seeing you here.” At this point, she was blushing and slightly embarrassed. _y/n_ smiled at her and said, “Hey, Emily. I never really expected to see you again. Are you alright? That looked like a nasty fall.” _y/n_’s comment only had Prentiss blush further, and she said, “Oh, well, you know, I’ll probably be sore for a week, but nothing’s broken.” _y/n_ noticed the flush on Prentiss’s face. _y/n_ didn’t take her hands off of Emily. Now it was _y/n_’s turn to worry that Emily might fall. Eventually, their hands grew warm, and they dropped them. _y/n_ looked over at Prentiss and asked, “Are you waiting for someone? I’ve been here for about an hour, and well, I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been here for a while. Sorry If I’m being nosy.” Emily sighed and said, “I was waiting for someone, but I don’t think they’re coming. That’s pretty depressing, isn’t it.” _y/n_ tipped her head and said, “I’m sorry. And sorry that you had to be out of town for work during the holidays. That always reeks.” Emily nodded. The case had been bad. Plus being stood up was never fun, but it was nice to see _y/n_ again. Nice to know that _y/n_ had made it past their shared night in the bar and their brief text exchange. Emily had forgotten how pretty _y/n_ was, but being in front of her again, she felt the unfamiliar pull toward _y/n__y/n_ pushed off the rink wall and moved to Emily’s side. Emily attempted to move forward, but she very shortly after almost fell again. Because of this fact, _y/n_ had stayed close by. As Emily nearly fell, _y/n_ skated in front of her and took her hands firmly. Steadying her. Emily watched with some surprise as _y/n_ skated backward with ease as _y/n_ kept her steady. After a minute of moving along the wall, _y/n_ asked, “Would you like me to let you go?” Prentiss considered it for a second and then said, “I’d rather you didn’t. If you don’t mind.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “I don’t mind.” Emily nodded. 

There was a short silence before Emily said, “So, um, are you feeling better since the last time I saw you?” _y/n_ flushed thinking of the last time they’d seen each other, but _y/n_ had grown since then, and replied, “I have actually. Well, at least I haven’t gotten so slooshed that I can’t tell when a pretty woman tells me that I’m the pretty one and that I matter for some inexplicable reason.” The bluntness with which _y/n_ made the statement had Emily chuckle and she said, “Well it’s true. You are pretty, and  you do matter.” _y/n_ felt a flush bloom over her face, and to divert the attention from her, _y/n_ asked, “So, what asshole decided to stand you up? I might just give them a kick in the teeth.” Where this confidence was coming from, _y/n_ couldn’t say, but the small shine in Emily’s eyes made it all worth it. Prentiss sighed and replied, “Hinge. I should learn that my luck with dating apps is cursed. I’ve been stood up on four dates from Tinder and Bumble in the last three months. Talk about a track record. Also, you’re very good at staking backward. If that was me, I’d be on my ass already.” _y/n_ chuckled and said, “Well they’re all idiots for standing you up. And the ice skating thing, that was more of my _i/s/p/h_’s idea. You know, every kid needs a hobby, and they stuck me in skating. It wasn’t a very practical choice on their end. It’s not like I’m going to the Olympics or anything.” Emily smiled and replied, “Well, you say that, but it’s proving a very practical skill to me right now. And it’s gotta look cool if nothing else. My mother had me in language schools since I was five and then after all that, she had me practicing piano for three hours a day.” _y/n_’s eyes grew wider at the revelation. Emily Prentiss didn’t exactly seem like the type of person to just open up, but she had said something about her childhood, and perhaps Emily was simply reciprocating. After a beat, _y/n_ replied, “That sounds, lonely. Do you find either the languages or music skills still helpful to you?” Emily thought back to her first case with the BAU and how her Egyptian had helped the team. How it had bought her points with Gideon and Hotch. Of course, both men saw her for more than that after she’d become a permanent fixture on the team. Sometimes Emily wished she’d had more time with Agent Gideon. She felt like they could have been friends, but, the past was the past, and she let out a sigh before saying, “The languages come in handy when something comes up at work. However almost everyone in my department is multilingual, and if they’re not, well, I’ll just say that they make up for it with an abundance of talents in other areas. As for the piano lessons. Like most little girls and boys, I hated the practice. I gave it up in high school, and I regret that now. I have a keyboard at my place and if I ever find the time, I tinker, but not much more than that.” By the time Emily had finished talking, the pair had made it back to the opening of the rink. Prentiss had hardly noticed as she looked into _y/n_’s eyes and talked like they were friends. _y/n_ had made it easy to glide along the ice unafraid of falling or bumping into people, or worse, taking down some kid with her as she fell. _y/n_ stopped just beyond the opening, giving Emily a prime place to step out. However, Emily was hesitant to let go for a second, either from fear of falling or something else, she couldn’t say. 

_y/n_ looked at Emily and asked, “Would you like to go around another time?” It was the only reason _y/n_ could think of why Emily would still be holding her hands. Prentiss seemed to snap too, and replied, “Oh, no. thank you.” _y/n_’s face fell a little, But Emily was still looking into her countenance, and she was thinking that she did want to spend more time with _y/n_. Talking with her had been so calming. So easy. Like they were good friends who just hadn’t met yet. It took another second before Emily realized that she hadn’t shared the second part of her sentence aloud, and she blushed madly as she said, “But I’d like to hang out, maybe. Just someplace where I’m less likely to break a wrist or hip. There’s a cute coffee shop down the street if you’re down?” The words came out in a jumble, and Prentiss wondered why she was suddenly so bad at talking to women. Why did every attempt at flirting or a friendship with _y/n_ come off as vaguely insulting? She hadn’t dated a woman in a while, but Emily wasn’t that out of practice. It’s not like she’d been dating men in the recess. All Prentiss could do was wait and see how _y/n_ responded to yet another botched attempt at flirtation. After a second, _y/n_’s face broke out into a soft smile and said, “Yeah. I’d like that.” Emily beamed, and once she was off the ice, Emily helped _y/n_ step off the ice even though she clearly didn’t need her help. Emily asked, “Did you get a locker for your things?” _y/n_nodded and said, “Yes, right over there.” _y/n_ pointed to a row of lockers on the far side of the space. Emily’s purse and black boots were in a locker on the other side of _y/n_’s and they both moved in that direction chatting about the weather over the last week. A conversation that was easy to cut off when they both got to a place where they needed to split up for a second. Emily moved close to her locker and sat on the wooden benches taking off her skates. Emily moved to her locker and slipped the finicky key into her locker’s lock. She grabbed her shoes and zipped them up. The last thing she needed to do was sling her handbag over her shoulder, and then she’d go over to _y/n_ and they’d walk over to the coffee shop together. Just as Emily was walking over to _y/n_. She looked at the ground, trying to avoid the numerous puddles that spotted the ground. She didn’t want to get her leather Hermes shoes wet. However, the sound of _y/n_ shouting, “Hey, hey! Let go of it,” and then the sound of a sharp hand on flesh snapped Emily’s eyes up. Prentiss watched as the man ripped the purse from _y/n_’s hands, as _y/n_ moved her hands to her face which had just been hit. The fact that some punk had tried to and was now running away with _y/n_’s bag was bad, but the fact that the whippersnapper had hit _y/n_ had Emily running after him with a determination she would on a case. She flew past _y/n_ and tossed her purse over to the half-stunned woman to allow her to run unencumbered. 

Emily’s footsteps pounded on the half-frozen ground. She deftly avoided the slick patches of ice that peppered the sidewalks and street. The vandal was not so lucky and took a few falls which slowed him down. The young man did make it past the crosswalk just before the warning hand popped up. The man had realized he was being followed and hoped to put some space between himself and the agent hot on his heels. Unfortunately for the thief, Emily was undeterred by the flashing orange hand and oncoming car. She wasn’t letting this punk get away with _y/n_’s things, or the fact that he had hit _y/n_ in an attempt to do so. Prentiss moved into the two-lane street and dodged a small Kia that honked at her furiously to get out of the way. She didn’t pay attention to the angry driver, as she made up some distance with the man. Emily felt her breath coming fast inhalations and exhilations as the man quickly, dangerously rounded a sharp corner in an alley full of trash and gunk. Prentiss was close enough to tackle the man, so she did. They both went down with a smack on the pavement, but the man had it worse as he went face-first into the street while Emily’s face and chest were padded by his legs. The man groaned, “Goddamn it. Where do you get off taking a guy down like that? Who the fuck are you anyway, J.I. Jane?” Emily smirked and said, “Who I am doesn’t matter. Maybe don’t try stealing shit in the open. Better yet, don’t try stealing anything at all.” Emily hauled the man up and toward a still police car that she had passed in her foot chase. Prentiss tapped on the window and flashed her badge. Thankfully didn’t take long for the officer to her statement and number for a follow-up call if he had more questions. _y/n_ watched as about twenty minutes later Emily came back into view. Her cream-colored pants looked dirty, like she’d rolled in some mud, but the smile on her face, as she held up _y/n_’s purse in triumph, had _y/n_ smiling as well. When Prentiss, who seemed to be out of breath, reached _y/n_ they both asked in unison, “Are you okay?” Emily repeated the question first and said, “Did that guy hurt you? Is your face alright?” _y/n_  nodded yes and said, “It’s fine, just a split lip is all. Nothing to write home about.” Even as _y/n_ said this, Prentiss looked more closely at _y/n_’s face, softly running her thumb over her mouth. _y/n_ cringed ever so slightly and let out a breath, as Emily’s warm hand brushed over her face, and the rush of warmth she felt as the brunette checked over her for any damage was something she hadn’t felt in months. The sensation was not unwelcome. When Prentiss had composed herself, _y/n_ gently brushed over her pants, trying to clean them a little, and see if Emily was hurt too. But the tall woman did not react. She just let _y/n_ fawn over her for a few minutes before Emily took _y/n_’s hands in hers saying, “I’m alright _y/n_, really. I just need to get these pants clean once I get home.” _y/n_ nodded, no longer in a daze from the events, but now by the woman in front of her. _y/n_ looked at her and asked, “How did you just do that, exactly? Are you often running down random pickpockets?” Prentiss chuckled and said, “Maybe. How about we talk about it over coffee? We seem to be continually interrupted by stuff, but I’m not going to let this stop us. Not even these dirty pants.” _y/n_ nodded and they exchanged purses and walked the short way to the quaint coffee shop named Doubles. Emily got them a seat and _y/n_ took her order of a flat white with vanilla. _y/n_ insisted on paying for her drink because she’d saved her purse. At the counter _y/n_ got her favorite winter drink and Emily’s. The line was shockingly short, and _y/n_ had their beverages in a few moments. 

They sat in relative silence as they blew on their drinks and then sipped them with trepidation and fear that their mouths would be burned. As the drinks cooled, _y/n_ looked at Emily and asked, “What is it you do exactly? You seem so capable. Like you could do anything in the world.” Prentiss hesitated. She wasn’t one to disclose her job easily, but when she looked at _y/n_, she felt the openness she had when they were on the rink, like old friends. And Emily said, “I work for the FBI.” _y/n_ seemed surprised and she said, “And I’m guessing it’s not the tax fraud department?” Prentiss laughed low, and replied, “Yeah, not tax fraud, that’s for sure.” _y/n_ thought for a second and asked, “When you said you were out of town for work, was that FBI-related?” Emily nodded and said, “Yeah it was. We kind of just get called in and we go where we’re needed.” _y/n_ reflected on what Emily had said about her childhood. It seemed like a controlled childhood, and now a demanding job, _y/n_ had to ask, “Do you enjoy it? Your work?” There was a tense pause before Prentiss sighed and said, “I do. I know I’m making a difference, in my way. Both to my team and to society. But we all have our regrets about work, don’t we?” _y/n_ nodded in agreement. 

Her recent work affairs had tainted her image of the company as HR had contacted her manager and he’d made a big stink about the whole affair. He’d blamed _y/n_ for coming onto him and not the other way around. HR had taken her side of things in the end. There had been too much evidence to prove anything that _y/n_’s boss had said, but whatever the case was, it was still uncomfortable. Emily saw _y/n_ retreat into herself and asked, “What is it you do, _y/n_?” _y/n_ snapped out of her head and said, “Oh. Nothing important. Just _y/j. Nothing like what you do, I assure you.” Prentiss noticed her uncertainty, the way _y/n_ spoke down about herself again and said, “_y/n_. Your job isn’t any more or less important than mine. We all have to work in this economy unless you're an heiress or something. But as long as it doesn’t drive you crazy and you get paid then I think that’s enough.” There was a pause and Emily asked, “Do you enjoy it?” She couldn’t be sure, as _y/n_’s face shifted into an uncomfortable look. Prentiss quickly tacked on, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” _y/n_ sighed and replied, “I don’t mind talking about it. I’m just disappointed. I moved here a few months ago for this new job, and my boss turned out to be a real ass. It was a whole ordeal last month and the start of this month. I just lost the joy I had for the company I guess.” Emily frowned and said, “That sounds disappointing. I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it more?” Emily realized that she was dancing around a potentially sensitive subject and wished she’d kept her mouth shut. _y/n_ shifted in her seat a bit and said, “It’s getting better actually. I’ve been trying to stand up for myself a bit more. To be honest I’ve been a bit of a doormat most of my life and I’m sick of it. I’m not quite at tackling a guy that steals my purse yet. I think that’s when you graduate from beginner-level non-doormat status. That’s why I’m lucky to have someone like you around. Even if it is serendipitously. But, maybe there are nicer things we can talk about?” 

Emily smiled and nodded, acknowledging how open _y/n_ had been with her. However, she realized that having a lighter conversation would be more enjoyable. And they’d get to know each other better that way. So, for the next hour and a half, they talked about everyday things. Like the worst movie they’d seen that year, or the best album they’d listened to. What had made them laugh so hard that they’d cried. And by the end of the conversation that flowed with ease, as Emily asked _y/n_ if the bar on 6th street was her favorite, or if she just went there out of convenience because it was so close to her house, when Prentiss held out her hand on the table in front of her, and _y/n_ took it. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. _y/n_ and Emily finished their conversation and _y/n_ looked at the woman in front of her. She wasn’t sure what was going on. If this was flirting or friendship or something else entirely, but as things seemed to be wrapping down, _y/n_ didn’t want it to end. So _y/n_ asked, “Emily, would you want to do this again sometime? Like, sometime soon? I don’t know if you can tell or not, but I don’t have many friends, and talking to you, well talking to you is so easy.” Prentiss squeezed _y/n_’s hand slightly and replied, “Yes. I’d like that. Is there a day in the next two weeks that works well for you?” Emily was very happy that _y/n_ had asked, because if _y/n_ hadn’t, then she would have had to, and that somehow felt like pressing her luck. But _y/n_ had asked, and they agreed on a day, and then Emily explained how, due to her work schedule, she had to be very flexible with plans. And if she should have to take a rain check on their next meeting, that it had nothing to do with _y/n_ and everything to do with work. And, although if a statement like that had come from anyone else but the enigmatic Emily, she would have thought they were canceling on her already. But with Prentiss _y/n_ believed her. Or at least she wanted to believe her, and _y/n_  hadn’t had that kind of hope in anyone in a long, long time. So _y/n_ chose to believe Emily and see where it went from here. _y/n_ and Emily said their goodbyes until the next time, and Prentiss gave y/n_’s arm an affectionate rub just before she hopped into that taxi that would whisk her away like a sprite in the wind. 

Both Emily and _y/n_ thought about the other on and off between the next time they would meet. To _y/n_ it all felt new. As she pondered their first and second meeting, _y/n_ contemplated how her stomach fluttered in a way it had in high school, but not since then. _y/n_ wondered if it was love, lust, or something secret thing that she’d not learned about yet that happened when one liked women. She also wondered if it was too fast to be falling head over heels for someone she barely knew. It felt like Twilight but make it homoerotic. _y/n_ wished she was more sure of herself. Wished she had the confidence to just be honest with herself. But for now, she was just happy to be seeing Emily again. And if things went well, which she hoped they would, then she would ask the most beautiful women she’d ever laid eyes on, what exactly it was that they were trying to be. 

Even just as a friend, Emily Prentiss seemed like a good person to have on one’s team. Emily, on the other hand, was trying to figure out how a stranger had gotten her to drop her walls with no prompting, prodding, or intrusive questions at all. Prentiss’s mother had instilled in her, from an early age, a ‘personal none-disclosure policy, no matter what the personal cost.’ And the astute agent stuck to it for the most part. But _y/n_ had managed to weave her way past her barriers so easily, without even trying. And, as Emily thought about it, she realized that _y/n_’s not trying had been the key. If anything, she had been the one that had pressed _y/n_ for information, and _y/n_ had answered honestly. At least all of her tells had indicated honesty. So many of her previous lovers and would-be lovers had pressed and pressed, and pressed, like those accusing witches in Salem. But _y/n_ hadn’t done that. There was just a kindness to _y/n_ that seemed to permeate the air she inhabited. _y/n_ seemed to have a genuine desire to know her, but in a gentle way that didn’t make her feel like a thing being examined under a microscope. Her internal and external flaws were being picked apart one by one via vivisection. No. getting to know and being known by _y/n_ was like gentle hands running up her body, discovering every part of her. Letting herself be known. 

Suddenly Emily felt flushed all over. She was sure she was red in the face because Derek had come up beside her with Garcia nearby and said, “What are you thinking about, baby girl?” Morgan had Emily nearly jump out of her seat, and she said, “Geeze Derek, you didn’t have to scare me to death.” Morgan laughed and said, “Well, if you’d been paying any attention, you’d know I called your name twice before speaking louder. What’s got your mind so busy? You have another hot date last night with a guy?” Morgan couldn’t help but notice Emily’s flushed state, and that her breathing had picked up ever so slightly. Emily sighed and rolled her eyes. Garcia, as if she were a profiler herself, commented, “She rolled her eyes, so it’s probably not a boy. Is it a girl? It could be that or someone who’s non-binary. Oh please Em, spill the beans. My love life is as dry and old bones right now, and I need someone vicarious to live through to make it through the drought.” Now Prentiss rolled her eyes because of Penelope’s antics. Emily had reigned in her straying thoughts and her flush. Morgan chimed in, “I’m siding with Garcia on this one. I haven't heard you complain about a bad date in ages Prentiss. You finally find someone worth your time?” Emily replied, “You know ya’ll two are the biggest gossip’s in this building, right?” Garcia grinned and said, “Guilty as charged. Now spill the tea.” Em sighed again and said, “Listen I don’t even know yet. This is very new and I’m trying to understand my own feelings about the whole situation. As for the gender of this person. I think that can wait. Last time I told you both the restaurant I had dinner with on a second date on Penelope had found that dude’s Insta by the afternoon, so I’m not making that mistake twice.” Before either Morgan or Penelope could protest, Hotch called the team into the conference room to debrief the newest case. It was a mercy for Emily, and she let her mind wander back to the image of her and _y/n_ being that close, or exploring a deeper intimacy together before she fully pushed it aside to focus on the case. 

Emily was back in the David Copperfield Bar, the one on 6th that she’d met _y/n_ at. The last week had been rough. The case was a hard one, bumping right up to the Holidays. Then after that, she got word from her mother that she wouldn’t be able to visit her in London because her mom had to go to an emergency security council meeting in Brussels which had been a big bummer. Emily hadn’t seen her mom in over two years, and this was going to be her chance, but fate had other plans. Plans that even Emily was unaware of. She had found herself in _y/n_’s neck of the woods because she was doing some retail therapy. She’d bought a new dress which she wore out of the Prada. Rossi had offered for her to come and celebrate Christmas with him, but as the rest of the team was mostly away with family or friends, Prentiss felt that it was a little sad and had said no. So she had spent the holidays alone. That depressing fact was still catching up with her. As  Emily sipped on a Cosmo, the doorbell jingled and she was surprised to see _y/n_ step inside and shake off some snow from a warm-looking coat. Her and _y/n_’s next meeting slash date was set for next week on Friday, and Emily hadn’t expected to see her again until this. But the sight was far from unwelcome.

_y/n_ noticed Emily too. _y/n_ moved across the mostly empty space to where she was sitting and said, “Well fancy seeing you here, Emily. Did something drag you to this side of town during the holidays?” _y/n_ couldn’t imagine a person like Emily drinking alone. There must be some other reason. Prentiss sighed and said, “No it’s just me. I was spending my Christmas money, as you can see.” She pointed to her Prada bag, and _y/n_’s eyebrows went up. _y/n_ jokingly asked, “Wow, if the FBI paying that well. I should consider a career change.” _y/n_’s joke didn’t seem to land and Emily still looked glum after. _y/n_ tipped her head to the side and said, “Mind if I join you after grabbing a drink?” Prentiss nodded yes, and _y/n_ was quick to grab her standard drink and then sit down across from the demure woman. After a few moments of silence, _y/n_, “What’s the matter, Emily? You seem so sad.” Emily looked into _y/n_’s empathetic eyes and sighed before saying, “It’s nothing really. I had a bad week at work and then I was supposed to fly out to see my mom but that got mixed up. I’m just throwing myself a pity party by having a cheap drink and having some retail therapy. I’ll be alright, _y/n_. I’m just going to finish this round, closeout, go home, and sleep for a solid eight hours. I’ll feel better then.” Emily was feeling sad, and she didn’t want to dampen _y/n_’s evening with her mood. However, _y/n_ worried about Emily a little. This wasn’t her confident, chipper self. _y/n_ replied, “Do you want to be alone tonight? You can come over to my place. It’s two days after Christmas. If you don’t want to be alone, you don’t have to be Emily.” The words came out of _y/n_ like water. Like they’d been there all along and they’d finally slipped out of her mouth for good. _y/n_ didn’t mind them, but they seemed like something someone far more confident than her would say. Emily similarly seemed taken aback, but mostly because it sounded so nice after all she’d been through that week. To be in _y/n_’s company felt like a balm. Prentiss said gently, “_y/n_, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want to take time away from your life, or if you’ve still got friends or family around.” _y/n_ smiled and replied, “I’ve spent time with the people that matter to me. If I couldn’t see them in person then we called. And I managed to mostly avoid the people I hate. But my house is empty, and you’re welcome in it even if it’s just for an hour so you don’t feel alone.” Emily looked at _y/n_ and again there was no dishonesty in her countenance. Emily wasn’t sure if _y/n_ could tell a lie. And because she badly wanted to feel seen, Prentiss nodded a small yes. They both finished their drinks, and _y/n_ paid for both of them with Emily softly insisting to pay _y/n_ back, but it really didn’t matter either way. 

The pair took their time walking to _y/n_’s house as the flurries floated down in soft waves that made a satisfying crunching sound beneath both _y/n_ and Emily’s feet. Neither spoke as neither knew what was going to happen once they got to _y/n_’s place. But they made it eventually and _y/n_ unlocked the gate and then the door and then she was turning on the lights and telling Emily, “Make yourself at home? Would you like something to drink? Some water or a glass of wine? I’ve got cold brew if you like that at nine p.m.” That finally got Emily to laugh as she took off her coat and rather unceremoniously slumped down on the couch. Hearing Prentiss laugh had _y/n_ turn her head back and say, “Now that’s the girl I know.” Hearing those words had Emily flush. She cleared her throat and said, “A glass of wine would be nice, _y/n_. Thank you for having me.” _y/n_ nodded, and as she poured two glasses red. _y/n_ set the glasses in front of them and then sat next to Emily. She sat so close that she could feel the heat radiating off the brunette beside her. They both took their glasses, gave them a small clink and Emily said, “To friends, we didn’t know we needed.” _y/n_ smiled, placing a hand on Emily’s thigh. _y/n_ took a small sip of wine and then asked, “Is that what we are Emily? Friends?” Prentiss’s eyes had gotten wider, pupils slowly blowing out. Emily softly ran a circle with her thumb over the soft flesh of Emily’s upper leg.

_y/n_ felt like she must be possessed by Aphrodite with the confidence that had up until now, never emerged like this before. _y/n_’s desire for Emily was strong, stronger than it had ever been, and more shockingly was the fact that Prentiss wasn’t pulling away from her touch. She was leaning into it, into her. And before _y/n_ could fully understand what was happening, their lips were meeting and the scent of Emily’s perfume filled her head like a hallucinogen. Emily similarly reveled in the sensation of _y/n_ soft lips pressed against hers. She snaked her hands into _y/n_’s hair, just to make sure this wasn’t a dream. When they had to pull back, Prentiss took a quick breath. She kept her hands woven in _y/n_’s smooth locks and then kissed her forehead tenderly. Emily didn’t consider herself a woman of lust, but the feelings that _y/n_ had pulled out of her made her want more. Made her want to get drunk on _y/n_ alone. Finally, she pulled back, and _y/n_ was flushed and her chest rose and fell more rapidly as if she was still trying to regain her breath. Emily placed a hand on the side of _y/n_’s face. She wanted to ensure that there was consent for everything going forward, so she asked, “_y/n_, do you want to keep doing this? Doing more? I’d like that with you _y/n_, but only if you're comfortable with it. I don’t want to move too fast if it’s unwanted.” Emily’s words seemed to zap all of _y/n_’s confidence from her, and she pulled back a little. Prentiss took this as a “Yes, let’s stop for now,” but didn’t understand the internal conflict _y/n_ was having. Didn’t understand why _y/n_ felt like she couldn’t say yes even though she desperately wanted to. But how could _y/n_ admit that she’d never been with a woman before to someone as pretty and cool as Emily? What would Emily think of her after that? But Prentiss could see _y/n_ look aside, the loss of confidence that had looked so good on her. In a gentle voice, Emily asked, “Penny for your thoughts, _y/n_.” _y/n_ bit the inside of her lip and realized if she was going to be brave with anyone in this area of her life, Emily was probably the best person to do it with. After all, it was Emily, she had just been making out with like it was nothing. So risking whatever there was between them, _y/n_ said, “I, I want to be with you like that Em. It’s just, well, I’ve never been with a woman before and I know, I know it’s stupid, but I don’t know how. I don’t want it to be mediocre. Not for you. With guys, it’s whatever, but not with you. You deserve the best, and…” _y/n_ realized she was rambling and cut herself off, embarrassed. 

Emily nodded a bit in understanding and replied, “_y/n_, did you think I was going to laugh at you or something for not being experienced?” _y/n_ turned her head back to Prentiss and gave a small affirmative nod. Emily sighed and took her hands saying, “_y/n_ we all have to start somewhere. My first time with a woman wasn’t great, I can tell you that. It was all teeth and tongue.” Emily flushed at the memory. She’d grown a lot since then in her sexuality and experience. _y/n_ knew where Emily was coming from but said hesitantly, “Yes, but you’re my first woman to be intimate with Emily and I can only imagine that it will be tongue and teeth when I reciprocate.” Emily squeezed _y/n_’s hand and said, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I want to make you feel good _y/n_. Making you feel amazing will make me feel very happy. And if you want to try with me, I can tell you what I like. Show you what to do? But you don’t have to. You make me feel so open, _y/n_. And I’d like to share that with you, for you, if you’ll have me?” _y/n_ looked at Emily. _y/n_ thought about everything, about how she didn’t know what this relationship was, but how good it had felt to kiss Emily. How natural it was. How Prentiss had booked after a robber just to get her purse back with her. Yes, _y/n_ felt the nerves in her stomach clench in apprehension, but the desire to have something more with Emily gave her the courage to nod and eventually say, “Yes. I want that with you too, Emily. Would you show me how it works?” Emily softly smiled and said, “Of course. I’d be happy too. How would you feel about moving to your bedroom? I think this might be more comfortable there than on the coach.

_y/n_ nodded and stood. Emily placed a hand on her lower back, as they moved a few feet to _y/n_’s bedroom. _y/n_ turned on some lamps and then stood in front of Emily, hands down in supplication. Prentiss moved toward her and said honestly, “You can tell me to stop at any time. If at any point you want to stop, we stop, alright?” _y/n_ nodded yes, and Emily asked, “Please tell me yes.” _y/n_ cleared her throat, a blush rising at the idea of what was about to happen, and said, “Yes. I promise.” Emily smiled and said, “That’s my girl,” before leaning down and kissing _y/n_ again. This kiss was more passionate. Now _y/n_ ran her hands through Emily’s dark hair, while the agent's hands slipped behind _y/n_ back and shoulders. Pulling _y/n_’s body more flush with hers. Prentiss ran her tongue over _y/n_’s low lip and _y/n_ opened her mouth in surprise at the warm, wet sensation. Emily pulled back ever so slightly and looked at the hazy gaze of desire in _y/n_’s eyes. Emily whispered, “Can I slip my tongue in your mouth? I want to taste you here before I taste you down there?” _y/n_ flushed further and nodded her consent. _y/n_ more excitedly pressed her lips to Emily’s opening her mouth again. Emily moved her tongue inside _y/n_’s mouth and softly explored the dark space. Feeling the concaves and upper palette of the space. Emily savored this small step, as she felt _y/n_ press her body even closer to her own as the intimacy and trust grew between them. When _y/n_ let out a soft moan, prompted by Prenitss slipping her hand under her shirt, and to her bare back, Emily pulled away. 

Whatever hesitation or fear had been in _y/n_ before was slowly seeping away as she longed for more sensation from her guide in this new realm or pleasure. Prentiss asked, “Is it okay if I help you out of these things you’re wearing? You get to choose how much you want me to see.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “I’d like you to see everything. And I’d like to see all of your too,” as _y/n_ began undoing the buttons of her shirt while Emily moved her slender hands to _y/n_’s skirt waistband. When the zipper was undone, it slipped to the floor along with _y/n_’s shirt which she cast aside. Emily looked over _y/n_ in her semi-naked state. She was luminous, glowing under the lamplight in _y/f/c_ bra and panties. Emily affirmed her as she had the first night they met. “You are so, so beautiful, _y/n_. With your clothes, without your clothes. You’re like a sun, like a light.” _y/n_ chuckled and moved softly behind Emily, with the profiler watching her graceful steps. _y/n_ said, “May I get you out of this dress?” Prentiss nodded and _y/n_ pulled down the zipper on the back. The gold teeth unwound one by one down to Emily’s lower back Once there, _y/n_ pushed either side of the body off of Emily’s arms. The outfit was formfitting and it took one or two more tugs to get the dress to join the rest of _y/n_’s clothes on the floor. When it was off, _y/n_ moved to face Emily head-on again. Now _y/n_ looked over the goddess that was in front of her and said, “Have you considered that I might just be a mirror and that you’re the one that’s the sun, Emily?” _y/n_ really hadn’t allowed herself to consciously think about Emily like this. Or even look at her that closely until now because an insecure part of her, deep inside, had told _y/n_ that someone like Emily would never be interested in her. But now the most beautiful woman in the world was in front of her, in only a white lace bra and matching underwear and it was all a bit overwhelming in the best possible way. It felt like the relief of getting a breath of oxygen after being pushed underwater by a big wave for too long. It didn’t even take Emily asking to get _y/n_ to take her hand and lead them both to her bed. Once they were on the mattress with _y/n_ laying up on her elbows and Emily slightly over her, Prentiss kissed her mouth and then down her jawline and neck. Once between the valley of _y/n_ breasts, Emily slipped her right hand behind _y/n_’s back and easily undid the clasp of _y/n_’s bra while her left slipped the straps off _y/n_’s shoulders. _y/n_ helped in removing the intimate article. _y/n_’s nipples upon exposure to the cool air formed their taut buds, ready to be rubbed or sucked. However, before Emily moved forward, she sought clarity, 

Emily sat up a bit, and _y/n_ looked slightly disappointed as Prentiss said, “_y/n_. Just so I know, how much experience do you have with sex and intimacy? Be it with men or yourself?” _y/n_ flushed but replied honestly, “You know, I’ve messed around. Had a boyfriend or two. It was mostly _y/e/w/m/b_, but not much more than that. As for what I’ve tried myself is just _w/y/d/w/ys_.” Somehow _y/n_ had imagined that sharing her history with Emily would be embarrassing, like saying she’d never been with a woman would be embarrassing. But Prentiss took it in stride and said, “Thank you for telling me. I’m going to go slow for now. If you want more or less, or to stop, all you have to do is tell me.” _y/n_ nodded and watched as Emily dipped her head down to her chest, taking her right nipple into her mouth and swirling her tongue over the sensitive area.” Almost instantly _y/n_ moaned and closed her eyes. As _y/n_ tipped her head back, Prentiss used her left hand to rub over _y/n_’s left nipple and used her right to trace down _y/n_’s side, and then between _y/n_’s legs. With practiced pressure, Emily rubbed circles over _y/n_’s clothed sex. _y/n_ let out another moan, and Emily knew that if she slipped her right hand under _y/n_’s panties, she would feel the beginnings of desire slick her fingers. But she worked slowly, making sure _y/n_ was ready. After a few minutes and many more needy sounds for _y/n_, Emily asked, “Can I taste you down there? It’s not invasive or overwhelming generally speaking like traditional sex. I think you might like it. It’s a good starting place for this type of intimacy.” _y/n_ stopped herself from recounting how the one time she’d asked a partner about cunnilingus, they had said, “That stuff’s gross,” and instead said, “Yes, please.” Because _y/n_ had wondered what it felt like, and if it was Emily's offering, it had to be mindblowing. Everything else the brunette had been doing to her body had been ecstatic. Eliciting feelings and responses she’d never felt before. Emily nodded and again, saw the desire in _y/n_’s eyes. Prentiss kissed down _y/n_’s stomach and navel and then made it to the elastic of her underwear. Because Emily had been continually teasing and applying appropriate pressure to _y/n_’s clit, she knew that _y/n_ was soaked already. That it wouldn’t take much to get her over the edge. Prentiss pulled off _y/n_’s last piece of clothing with _y/n_’s help by lifting her hips. It was just the sound of their shared breath as Emily positioned _y/n_’s legs apart and slightly bent. Emily repositioned herself on the bed and gave one final look to _y/n_ between her legs. _y/n_ nodded her final consent, and Prentiss moved her mouth to _y/n_’s most intimate area. 

Even as Emily’s tongue made its first pass in tasting _y/n_’s arousal, the new sensation had _y/n_ clench her stomach in the most pleasurable way. Similarly, Emily loved the taste of _y/n_ so much that she lapped up and down _y/n_’s sex from her entrance to her sensitive bundle of nerves, taking everything she could with each pass. _y/n_ gripped the sheets of the bed with clenched fists; saying Emily’s name as she struggled to get the word out around her pleasure. Emily slowed her mouth a bit, realizing she was getting ahead of herself with her desire. As Prentiss started to draw small circles up and then down _y/n_ weeping sex, she used her other hand to run up and down _y/n_’s side. After a few minutes of this, _y/n_was panting. The tingling in her core had built up to a fire that was daring to be let out. To flare with just the smallest addition of oxygen. Emily’s mouth and nose were wet with _y/n_’s slick, and when _y/n_ said, “Please, Emily. I don’t think I can take it much longer.” Prentiss moved her attention to the _y/n_’s clit. Emily sucked and licked the area in tight circles. That was all it took for _y/n_ to intensely climax. _y/n_’s orgasm felt like water finally coming to a boil. The sensation was so strong that she spasmed uncontrollably for a moment and then collapsed into the bed. The euphoric feeling was so filling that _y/n_’s mind went blank for a few moments. It took _y/n_ a few minutes to realize that Emily had moved from between her legs and was now by her side, checking in on her, and running a hand up and down her arm to ground _y/n_. When _y/n_ opened her eyes, she said, “That was so good Em. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I want to give that to you too. I’m just not sure if I can do it tonight. My brain, it’s like, turned into soup or something.” _y/n_ chuckled, closing her legs and saying, “Maybe you broke me. I’m not sure if humans are supposed to feel that good.” Prentiss smiled at _y/n_’s words and how flushed she still looked, even minutes after her release. Emily ran a hand through _y/n_’s hair and said, “You deserve to feel that way often, _y/n_. I’ll make it your new normal if you’ll let me. I feel drawn to you in a way I’ve never felt pulled to anyone before. I’d like to show you more. Get to know you more. Keep spending time together.” _y/n_ nodded and said, “I’d like that, But only if you promise to show me how to make you feel this way too?” Emily nodded and said, “It would be a pleasure.” There were a few moments of silence before _y/n_ said, “Spend the night with me, please? It’s late, and I need my sun near me for a warmth I never knew I needed.” Emily smiled and nodded, wordlessly nestling close to _y/n_’s body, finding solace in their proximity. 

After composing herself a bit _y/n_ moved, turned off all of the lights, and lay down next to Emily again. With an arm draped over Prentiss’s waist. _y/n_ asked in the darkness of the room, “What are we exactly, Emily? Is this what people always talk about with love at first sight?” Emily’s laugh reassured _y/n_ that she felt the same way about that trope as her. Emily replied softly, “I don’t know yet. I don’t think this feeling I have around you has ever happened to me before. But maybe we can figure out a label tomorrow if it will bring you comfort. All I know is that I love you, _y/n_, and I don’t want to let you go.” As _y/n_ felt Emily fall asleep in her arms. _y/n_ whispered, “I love you too, Em.” As _y/n_ slipped into oblivion, she pondered how she’d never really allowed herself to fall in love before. Because it could hurt, because she’d been rejected before. The fear of falling seemed so stupid now that Emily was nestled next to her, and with that, she slipped into sleep.

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[luveline]

hi jade! i hope you're having a good day. i wanted to request reader breaks a mug or something and accidently cuts herself but she's scared of blood so emily patches her up and comforts her bc i am in need of comfort rn and your writing always cheers me up <3

hi! tysm ♡

"Emily?" you call, panic sharp in your voice. "Em! Can you come here, please? I need help." 

A thunk. Hurried footsteps and Emily appears in the kitchen doorway, laundry basket still in her hands. "What did you do?" she asks worriedly, sliding the basket onto an island. 

"I dropped your Steelite mug, I'm sorry, I cut my hand–" 

"I don't care about the mug!" She sidles up to your side without fear of blood like yours, taking your hand into hers delicately. You turn your head and neck as far away from it as you can, the sting of your cut a blaring alarm in your head. Blood dribbles hot between your fingers. 

You don't know why blood scares you so much, even when the cut is small, but it always has. You feel sick at the idea; the reality is worse, your pulse like a hammer struck under your ribs. "Is it bad?" you ask, almost yelling. 

"No! No, it's not bad, don't worry." She rubs your arm. "You don't have to look. Come to the sink." 

Emily walks you with care to the sink. Your breath comes in quick pants no matter how hard you try to calm down, hand shaking hard in her grip. "Hey, it's okay," she says, "you're panicking, but you don't need to. You don't have to see it. I'll cover it up." She nudges you. "It's like you don't trust me to take care of you." 

"Of course I trust you. I just– I saw the cut happen, it freaks me out seeing it–" Split open, you want to say. You nearly gag instead. 

Emily shushes you gently, drawing your hand under the faucet as she turns it on. The cold water stings at first, but soon you feel the temperature more than the pain. She leaves you for a moment by yourself to retrieve her first aid kit, a fairly substantial box of sterilised bandaid and disinfectant from atop a kitchen cabinet. 

"Alright, hold still. I'm gonna spray it. Don't seize up, it's not that bad!" she says, laughing sympathetically. You wince as the spray makes contact with your cut, and again when she dabs your small wound. "I'm sorry." 

"Please hurry." 

"Okay, jeez." Plastic tears. You squeeze your eyes closed tight as she places a square of gauze against the cut and wraps it tight with a cotton bandage. "Tada!"

You peel your eyes open reluctantly. Emily drops a hand on your shoulder, then her cheek, the tip of her thumb rubbing the unbroken skin just below your cut. Your hand shines with damp, but not a speck of blood remains to be seen. 

"See? All done. Does it hurt?" 

You shake your head, giving your hand an experimental squeeze. It twinges, but it doesn't hurt. 

Blowing out a breath, you bend slightly under Emily's weight. "Oh, my gosh…" You press your face into her shoulder, forcing her to hug you. "Thank you, Em. That was… queasy." 

Emily kisses your cheek, your chin, and the very corner of your mouth. "You're welcome," she says, her nose pressed to your skin.

You pull apart to offer your hand. She takes the hint, planting a soft kiss atop your bandage. 

[thedelusionalbitchgianna]

Therapist: Now what do we say when we have anxiety?

Emily: My anxiety may be chronic but this ass is iconic

Therapist: No!

[reidsdaisies]

PROTECTIVE EMILY WITH READERRRRRR

i would love to witness emily go a lil feral if maybe the unsub punches reader or something. the things that woman makes me feel 😩😩😩 i wanna be held by her and have her kiss my tears away

‘𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭’

༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; emily prentiss x gn bau!reader

༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; guns and typical cm case stuff, reader is shot in the shoulder but is okay, rephrasing of the iconic “I’ve got a Glock leveled at your crotch. What’s to stop me from taking you and the little ones out?” line, stressed emily :( and concerned emily, she blamed herself :(, you don’t blame her, kissingg<3.

༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 1k

༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; i don’t think this is the exact situation you wanted, but this is the direction i took it. not proof read.

𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

“Honey, don’t.”

You gave a silent nod, pressing your lips together in an attempt to keep your mouth shut. Her hand was pressed against your chest, the chest protected by the bulletproof vest you were wearing. She gave you a light pat before drawing her gun and swiftly turning the corner.

Two shots from her Glock is all it took before the unsub was out cold. You all knew he would try to ambush the two of you, just like he did with his victims, and so Emily needed you to be quiet in order for the situation to go the right way. Fortunately, it was easier than you guys had anticipated, and as she bent down to confiscate the perpetrator's weapon, she was taken aback when she looked up to see you turned around the other way, standing beside her with your gun drawn.

“Drop your weapon!” You yelled to the unknown man, but it was too late because he had already fired his shot at you. Luckily, his aim wasn’t too great, and even though you were hit by the bullet, it was in your shoulder, nowhere where the damage couldn’t be undone. You yelped, pushed back slightly by the force, hitting the brick wall behind you, completely caught off guard.

He doesn’t have a chance to redo his shot, because Emily is on it, aiming her gun at a particularly low area on his body.

“I’ve got a Glock leveled at your crotch. Nothing is stopping me from taking you and the little ones out right now, so I’d advise you to listen to my partner and drop your weapon.”

The second unsub falters at that, clearly not wanting to sacrifice his private parts just for the opportunity to maybe shoot two FBI agents and have even more charges against him than he already has. With her words, he slowly lowers down to the ground, placing his weapon down and sliding it across the ground to her.

She stops the gun while still never taking her eyes off him. “Now, hands behind your back.”

“Two unsubs? Two of them! How didn’t we know there were two of them?” She thinks aloud, pacing back and forth right in front of where you sit in the back of an ambulance. She runs a hand through her hair, sighing deeply.

“Em,” You drawl, looking at her with a look her brain, clouded by anger towards the man who hurt you, convinces her is betrayal, but in actuality is just concern.

“It’s my fault, you’re hurt and it’s my fault because I was so sure there was only one unsub.”

She winces at the memory of watching you get shot injury, her vision flashing back to the sight of you leaning yourself up against the wall, hand pressed over your shoulder, blood seeping through your fingers and down your sleeve.

“Emily, sit down and take a breath before you pass out and hit the ground and I’m no longer the only one sitting in the back of an ambulance, getting treated for a wound.”

“Right, you’re right, y/n,” she swallows, moving to sit down next to you on the edge of the ambulance. “It was just your shoulder, and we’ll be going back home soon. I didn’t mean to stress you out, it’s just I can’t stand seeing you in pain like how you were when he shot you.”

The EMT who’s treating your shoulder wound moves to your side, making room for Emily who’s now sitting on your left. You were shot in the right shoulder, so the EMT is still able to work on bandaging you up.

“I know Em, and you should know that it’s not your fault. None of us could have seen that turn of events happening, not even Reid, so don’t beat yourself up for it. And I also know you’re salty that Hotch won’t let you go over to the station to interrogate the man, but that’s most definitely for the best. I know what you’re like when you’re upset with someone for hurting the ones you love, and the guy seems like a pussy, I’m sure he would crap his pants.”

Emily lets out a small chuckle at your comment, the tension slowly dissipating from her features as she leans into your side. "You’re probably right, y/n," she admits, her voice softening with gratitude. "As much as I want to give that guy a piece of my mind, I know it's probably for the best if I leave it to Hotch, just this time."

You offer her a reassuring squeeze with the hand of your uninjured arm, a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity.

She meets your gaze, her eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion as she leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

She pulls back, smiling at you.

“You’re very strong, you know that y/n?”

You nod. “You remind me all the time.”

Emily breathily chuckles. “I mean it. You don’t let things like this phase you, and I admire that quality.”

This time you’re the one leaning in, pressing a kiss to her darkly-colored lips.

“Thank you for noticing, and for caring so deeply for me to the point that you get yourself all worked up about it. But also please don’t let your concern get to the level where you’re stressed like that, especially over something you didn’t have control over.”

“I can't make any promises.. but I will try, for you.” She seals her words with another kiss to your lips, the lips now tainted by her lipstick.

“All done,” the EMT says with a smile, pulling you two from your little shared moment.

“Let's get back to the station, y/n,” Emily says, hopping down from the vehicle and offering her hand to you, which you very gratefully accept.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Lentil & The Blueberry (The Surprise, Part 2)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, NSFW, sex, fingering, mention of vomiting (for my emetophobia babies), established relationship, fluffity fluff, worried Emily has my whole heart Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Weeks six and seven of your pregnancy are underway, and you are struggling. But maybe not as much as your wife? Wildly overprotective Emily will do anything to help you feel better during your pregnancy. And I mean anything. 😉

Week 6: The Lentil

Emily had known about the baby for less than 12 hours, and she’d already gone into full Overprotective Dad™ mode. You’d slept in the morning after telling her, jerking awake to find Emily towering over you, watching with her eyebrows furrowed.

“Jesus, Emily!” you exclaimed, stretching. “You scared me!” You glanced at the clock. “Don’t you have to be at work?”

Emily continued staring, a look of deep concern on her face. “I really don’t want to leave you here like this.”

For a brief moment, you forgot you were pregnant. You scoffed. “I’ve had jet lag before, babe. I think I’ll be okay.”

“No! Pregnant.” She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, absentmindedly running her hands through your hair as you moved to rest your head on her lap.

“I’m fine, Em,” you assured her. “I’m a little tired and sore, but that’s probably just from moving.”

“Maybe I should call and tell them I can’t make it in today…” She was speaking more to herself than to you.

Your voice was stern, decisive. “You can’t take off work for nine months just to sit around and watch me be pregnant. Even if you could, I’d rather you take the nine months after the baby’s born.”

She sighed deeply, looking down at you as if she was making the hardest decision of her life.

“You promise to call me if you need anything?” she asked.

“Promise.”

She gently placed your head back on the pillow, then knelt down in front of the bed so her eyes were level with yours.

“Please don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” she whispered. You could tell she was trying to lighten the mood, to make herself feel better about going to work, but she was too worried about you for it to sound anything other than terrified and pitiful.

“Like what?”

“Ladders, lifting things, falling in the shower...”

“Well, I wouldn’t fall in the shower on purpose,” you argued.

“Just…” She leaned forward and kissed you so gently, so softly, running her thumb slowly along your brow bone. “Be careful. Be safe.” She stood, then leaned down to kiss you on the head one more time.

“I love you,” she said, then lifted up your shirt to kiss your stomach. “And I love you.” She shot you one last desperate, anxious look before leaving.

“Promise you’ll call?”

“Go, Emily.” You shooed her out of the room, laughing. Who would’ve guessed that managing your wife might be the hardest part of being pregnant?

Week 7: The Blueberry (18+)

You leaned back into Emily as the warm water swirled around you, the sound of the jets and the movement of the water soothing your aching body. Morning sickness had started in full force, and your abs were sore from mornings spent heaving over the toilet. Your head was killing you most of the time, and you were constantly bloated. All in all, the first trimester was kicking your ass.

Emily kissed your shoulder, pressing her face next to yours and wrapping her arms around you to gently cup your breasts, mindful of the pain you’d been experiencing.

You sighed contentedly as she ran a thumb lightly over your swollen nipple.

“Better?” she asked.

“Mmhm,” you nodded, eyes closed. When Emily had called this afternoon to check on you, you’d told her how gross you felt from puking all morning, how sore your body was. She’d stopped at Bath & Body Works on the way home to buy every single kind of bath bomb they sold, just to be sure you’d have a fragrance that didn’t make you feel sick. She’d brought Epsom salts and fancy body butters and a new candle because the one you usually had in the bathroom smelled like coffee, and coffee triggered your gag reflex right now. She’d come determined to do whatever it took to help you feel better.

“And to think you said paying more for an apartment with a fancy jacuzzi bathroom was, and I quote, fucking dumb.”

“I take it all back,” you said, whining softly and involuntarily pushing your hips forward as Emily continued circling your nipples, her touch light as a feather.

“Honey,” Emily breathed behind you. “You can say no, but…” Her breath was hot against your ear. “Can I touch you?”

Your body wanted it, but your mind was struggling. “I don’t know, Em…”

Emily gently turned your body around so she could look in your eyes, her thumbs running back and forth along your hands. She leaned close, placing a hand gently on your cheek.

“It’s okay if you really don’t want to, but..” She watched you squirm a bit under the water. “It feels like you do. Can you tell me what’s going on in your head?”

You avoided her eyes, following a stream of bubbles as it made its way around the tub. “I don’t feel very pretty…” you mumbled, looking away.

“What?” she said, and you couldn’t tell if she hadn’t heard you or if she couldn’t believe what you’d said.

“I don’t feel very pretty. I feel gross.”

“Y/N.” Her voice was heavy with love and care and you felt a little like crying, not because you were sad, but because she loved you so much it was overwhelming in your current hormonal state.

Emily pulled you onto her lap and wrapped her arms around your body, pressing kisses into your face and neck. “You are so pretty. What are you talking about?”

“I’m pukey and bloated and my hair is greasy because I’m too tired to shower,” you confessed, resting your head on her shoulder. “I feel disgusting.”

“Baby,” she said, chastising you and gently guiding your face so you had to look at her. “You’re beautiful. You’re growing a whole human right now. You’re incredible. You have never been more beautiful to me.”

Almost unconsciously, you started to grind your hips into Emily’s, your breath coming fast, rhythmic. You sighed, wrapping your arms tightly around her neck.

Emily grinned. The words were working! She left a trail of kisses along your shoulder, placing her hands on your hips to guide you.

“You are stunning, Y/N. You’re growing eyes for our baby this week, did you know that?" She thought for a moment, morbid curiosity getting the better of her. "I wonder what it looks like in there…”

You stopped abruptly, as if a record had been scratched. “Not sexy, Emily. I don’t want you thinking about what the inside of my uterus looks like.”

“Sorry,” she replied sheepishly, an embarrassed smile playing on her lips. You pressed your hands to the side of her face and kissed her, your body hungry for hers for the first time since you’d returned from London. You couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t get close enough.

“Emily,” you said breathlessly, pulling away to look at her. She was nearly as out of breath as you were–and significantly more flushed. “Touch me.”

“You’re sure?”

“Please.”

You whimpered as Emily’s thumb brushed over your clit, the warm water soft and comforting around you. She rubbed slow, indulgent circles, sensitive to your sensitivity, and your hips rose to meet her each time, even as exhausted as you were.

She kissed you deeply, passionately, her tongue desperate and gentle as it roamed your mouth, your neck. You moaned into her as she slipped two fingers inside of you, your body pulsing urgently around her. She kept her hand still for the most part, letting you control how hard, how fast, how deep.

As your breath grew ragged and your body clenched, surging against Emily’s, she moaned into your mouth, pressing into you. “Oh, god,” you breathed, Emily’s sounds nearly driving you over the edge.

“Come on, baby,” she begged, gasping. “Come for me.”

You drove your hips into Emily as your body convulsed, whimpering while your orgasm washed over you like a waterfall of static electricity. She fucked you through it, only removing her fingers when your breath started to calm and you fell against her, spent.

“Feel better?” she asked, kissing the side of your head, and pushing a string of wet hair out of your face.

You nodded, still too out of breath to speak.

You dragged yourself into a sitting position a few minutes later. “Here,” you said, clearly exhausted. “Let me do you.”

“It’s okay,” Emily told you, grinning.

“I can,” you insisted, pulling her toward you for a kiss.

“No, Y/N,” she said, laughing a bit as she pulled away. “I’m good. As in, I already came.”

“What!?” You giggled, blushing a bit. “Jesus Christ, Em! You were horny as fuck.”

She blushed and kissed you again, then poured some shampoo into her hand and grabbed your head playfully. You sighed happily as she massaged it into your scalp.

“I can’t help it,” she shrugged. “Look at you. Your boobs are fucking huge right now.”

“Well, don’t get used to it.”

Emily stared at you for a minute. Your soapy head. Your arms crossed defiantly over your chest. The slight pouch in your stomach that she knew would grow into her child. The way your eyes shone, holding so much love, so much purity of spirit and heart. What had she done to deserve you? She felt tears forming at the corners of her eyes, and she used her thumb to wipe them away.

“Are you crying?!” you asked, leaning forward to take her hand in yours.

“I just love you so much,” she said, her voice heavy with emotion.

“Oh, god,” you complained, sniffling yourself. You had a hair trigger for crying these days. “If you cry I’m gonna cry.”

She exhaled firmly. “I’m pulling it together, don’t worry.”

“I love you, too,” you said quickly before dunking your head under the water to get rid of the suds. And because if you thought about it too much, you'd start sobbing and god knows when you'd stop.

You popped back up, flipping your hair over so you looked like a founding father. Emily laughed, and all was right in the world.