#emily prentiss blurbs

[reidsaurora]

"Night Mama" ~ E. Prentiss

Summary: Just a cute lil blurb about Emily and her partner as new parents 🫶🏻

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x GN!Reader

Word Count: 623

Content Warning: very mild swearing, mentions of breastfeeding but nothing in detail, mentions of pregnancy, lmk if I missed anything!!

Genre: domestic fluff, what else would you expect from me

Extra Notes: this is one of the cutest things i've ever written and you can fight me if you say otherwise 😤 /j

Based On the Request: "How long has it been since you slept?" (requested by @lcvingprentjss)

Originally Written: 01/29/2023

Beta Read By: @lukeclvez

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

ofwilliamandwalter's 1K cocktail party

🍸 Spencer's Sauvignon Blanc - send me a character + prompt and i'll write you a small blurb!

It wasn't until I rolled over and felt that the other side of the bed was empty that I realized Emily wasn't there.

My heart raced with panic. What if one of the killers she's arrested has come back for revenge? I thought. Quickly, I decided I couldn't take any chances and reached over on the nightstand for my phone.

It wasn't until I had dialed up 9-1-1 that I heard soft coos coming from the baby monitor. Thank goodness I didn't press the call button. I let out a deep sigh of relief before forcing myself up from the bed and trodding off to the nursery.

A tired Emily blinked at me, her voice coated with a sleep-deprived drawl as she asked, "What are you doing awake?"

"I rolled over and you weren't there," I answered, reaching up to wipe the sleep from my eyes. "How long has it been since you slept?" I asked, noticing the purple underneath her eyes and her near inability to keep them open.

"Nearly five hours since I got a nap in but since I got a full night's sleep? Um, about three weeks. The last couple weeks of my pregnancy kicked my ass."

"Babe, three weeks?" I questioned before walking over to her, holding my arms out for the baby.

"No, it's fine, really. I have to get up and nurse her every two hours like clockwork, just like Dr. Beckett, and Dr. Reid, said. Besides, she just finished eating. All that's left is burping her."

"Then you give Lilly to me and get yourself to bed."

"But-"

"No buts, Emily. You are working so hard. I am so proud of you. I mean, your body just carried and made an entire human for ten months, you're healing from all the postpartum stuff, you've been trying to get back to work already. Thank God that JJ put an end to that idea."

I took a deep breath, sitting down on the ottoman across from her. "All those things are amazing, Em. But it doesn't make you any less of a mom if you ask for help sometimes. So please, let me take Lilly and you get to bed."

She let out a soft groan, but stood before placing Lillian in my arms and shuffling toward the door. "Please come get me if anything goes wrong."

I looked up at her with a raised brow. "Em, I love you, otherwise I wouldn't have married you, but respectfully, I will not be doing that."

She let out a soft huff but turned and headed down the hallway. I could've sworn I heard her snoring before she ever even passed the doorway.

"Come on, Miss Lillian. You think you can give me a big ol' burp, sweet girl?" I cooed, patting the baby on the back.

She was nearly a replica of Emily. She had her brown eyes, the same jet black hair Emily had before she stopped dyeing it, that same freckle on her shoulder that Emily never knew about until I told her. Lillian was just like her mother, beautiful and perfect in every way.

After about five minutes, Lillian finally burped, and just like her mother, she nearly fell asleep as soon as she was finished.

Upon reaching our bedroom, I spotted Emily, who had successfully made it back to bed, quiet puffs escaping her parted lips. I giggled at the sight before placing Lilly back into her bassinet on Emily's side of the bed, leaning down to give her a kiss on her nearly bald head.

I crawled into bed beside the sleeping lump of Emily, leaving a kiss on the exposed freckle of her shoulder. "G'night, Mama," I barely got out. "Sweet dreams."

I AM ABSOLUTELY IN LOVE WITH HOW THIS TURNED OUT, I LITERALLY CANNOT

I hope I wrote this as gender neutrally as possible. I actually imagined Emily having a sp*rm donor while writing this for some reason because I just love the idea of Emily going through lists upon lists and hating every sp*rm donor because she thinks they're all ugly (because she's a lesbian and hates men) so maybe I'll make a second part about that because I just absolutely love the idea of lesbian!Emily still wanting to be a mom and still wanting to do all the work 🥹

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☆𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒☆

[emilys-bangs]

sweet nothing | emily prentiss x reader

Tags: established relationship, fluff, use of scissors, hair cutting, use of pet names, no use of yn

Summary: It’s the weekend, and Emily’s bangs are overgrown. You offer to cut them.

Word count: 1.5k

You wake to Emily wrapped around you like a vine. 

Her nose is buried in your neck, her even breaths steadily hitting your skin in warm puffs. One of her still-chilly hands has slipped under your shirt and is lying on your stomach, and her leg is hitched over your hip, the baggy tee she’s wearing rising and exposing the skin of her thigh so that it directly touches yours. The fuzzy material of her socks brushes against your bare legs. For lack of a better word, you’re trapped.

And you never want to move.

It’s the weekend and the room is warm with golden sunlight, the slant of it through the windows telling you it’s still much too early to be awake. You don’t mind, really, but the dozing brunette in your arms never gets out of bed strictly before she has to. And you hadn’t made any plans, so you let her sleep. 

You try to wait her out, but some traces of exhaustion still linger, so you close your eyes again. You sink into a light doze until Emily begins to stir.

As always, this part takes forever.

You’re already back awake as she stretches slowly, unlatches her thigh from your hip and straightens her legs. Her hand leaves your stomach and she bends it until her elbow cracks, then wraps both her arms around your neck with a yawn.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you murmur, unable to stop yourself from being soft with her in times like these. “Finally ready to wake up?”

Emily’s responding hum vibrates through your skin. Even that is low and lazy as she sighs, rubs her eye with her knuckles.

“You’re comfy.” She says, her voice smoky and clouded with sleep. A small shiver runs down your spine at the rasp in the back of her throat, the way her tongue languidly wraps around those two words.

“And you’re lazy,” you run your hand over the curves of her waist. Your fingers find exposed skin above her hip and you poke it lightly, softening your words with the tender touch, “I’ve been awake for ages.”

It’s technically true.

Emily tilts your face toward hers. You smile when you meet sleepy, dark eyes, her lashes long and sweeping, her lips a little swollen from being tucked into your neck almost all night. Hi, you want to say, because sometimes she makes you want to say unnecessary shit like that, but she cradles your face before you can, bringing you closer.

“Sue me.” Emily murmurs, and leans in to kiss you. 

Time slows. It must, because she slips her hand in your hair and you slip it under her shirt and though the two of you spend decades in this moment, saying hello in the early morning light, only ten minutes pass by the time Emily’s eyes have lost their drowsiness.

Emily doesn’t say it, but you can tell she’s missed this. She clings to you, wraps arms and legs around your body and presses her cheek to yours, then kisses, then trails her hands and lips under your jaw. You sigh and soak up her attention, savoring the feel of her for when she’s later gone.

It’s hard when her job takes her away for too long. In brief stretches like these, days that she tries to twist and warp into weeks are when she recharges. Spending time with you, idly doing nothing, content with sitting around all day in your pajamas is how life is breathed into her again, after the BAU takes her and gives her back a hollowed shell.

Which is why both of you are always extra clingy when she’s home. Skin always pressed together, bodies always intertwined, no more than a few feet between you at any given time.

Her head is on your pillow now, the tips of your noses touching as you lightly trace the swollen outline of her lips. She has far, far encroached into your space, and what wouldn’t you give for her to do that every day.

Gently, you smooth her overgrown bangs behind her ear. They almost reach her lobes now, not much shorter than the rest of her hair, and you like the way the difference in length chips away at her polished, perfect exterior.

She doesn’t, though.

“I need to cut them,” Emily murmurs, a small furrow to her brows because she’d been saying she will for the past three months.

“Then you’ll go through the whole process again.” You point out needlessly, reaching out to play with a strand that hangs over her right eye.

Emily hums. “I’m liking the bangs right now. I think I want them for a little while longer.” 

You grab the bangs between your fingers, tuck the spiky ends out, and bring them up to brush her lip. Emily flinches away and you laugh, soft and low. “I’m liking them too.” Tucking those behind her ear, too, you cup her jaw and bring her down so her lips can meet yours in a soft kiss; an apology.

“Hm,” Emily grumbles against your lips. The strands behind her left ear loosen and fall across your face. You screw your eyes shut as Emily tucks them back behind her ear; she kisses your closed lids, signaling for you to open them again.

Your gaze is blissfully hair-free when you open your eyes again. “Y’know, I can cut ’em for you.” You offer.

Her gaze turns suspicious. “Can you?”

“I can.” Indignation drips from your tone as you cross your arms, feigning offense at her insinuation; you’ve had plenty of practice with your mom.

Emily’s eyes light up as she smiles. She bites her lip to try to hold it, but then it turns into a laugh, one that’s soft and so full of love you briefly flush with warmth all over.

“Okay, dolcezza.” She kisses your forehead. “I trust you.”

Her bangs fall across your face again.

You sigh and tap her hip. “Bathroom. Right now.”

Emily laughs as she gets off of you.

——

Even with her hair clipped back and her bangs hanging in wet threads across her face, she looks beautiful.

“Can’t you do it on my lap?” Emily teases, half joking, but her hands are intent as they wrap around the backs of your knees.

An amused huff leaves your lips. “Not unless you want to look like you got styled by Edward Scissorhands. Now,” you take her hands off your legs and grab the scissors, “keep those hands to yourself, Prentiss. You can’t keep distracting me.”

“You’re easily distracted.” She complains softly.

You bend down to be more level with her head, her seat on the closed toilet lid shortening her a considerable amount. “Sorry, my girlfriend has a magic touch.” You quip, taking the comb from her lap and quickly running it through the bangs over her eyes.

Emily begins to say something and you shush her as you gather the hair in your hands. “Quiet, love,” you murmur, brows scrunched in concentration as you snip off the edges of her bangs. Emily sucks in a breath and goes quiet, but the abrupt movement tilts her head.

A small smile tugs at your lips. “Stay still,” you chide lovingly. She obeys, not moving as you slowly trim off length, shortening the bangs from mid-cheek to slightly above her brows. Your back hurts from the angle but you ignore it, steadily cutting until you feel the weight of coffee-brown eyes stare right into your soul. 

“Why hello there,” you grin, winking at Emily as her face finally comes into view, “whose pretty eyes are these?” Twisting the bangs into a rope, you cut away from her face.

Her cheeks tint red. “So you can talk and I can’t?” She grumbles, her mouth barely moving. Heat sears your skin as her eyes travel up, up, roving over your face with unashamed abandon.

Humming, you carefully slide the scissors between Emily’s hair and her forehead. “You get a kiss for each minute you stay still.” A few strands still hang over her eyes, so you lift them and trim a bit.

Those eyes of hers flutter shut, and the heat of her gaze disappears. A small smile plays at her lips, and a smile of your own appears when you see her dimples. A few more snips and you’re satisfied, placing the scissors on the sink and gently tilting Emily’s chin up, kissing her with her eyes still closed.

She responds with a sigh, one of her hands finding its way to the back of your knee again. “Think that was ten minutes, wasn’t it?” She mumbles against your lips.

The angle is hurting your back, so you crouch down in front of her. “Five, at the most,” you roll your eyes, brushing the damp bangs off her forehead to properly see her eyes. They shine, beautifully dark, and your heart stumbles. “But I don’t need an excuse to give you ten kisses, do I?”

“No,” Emily sighs, fisting her hand in your hair and bringing you up to her. For all her hurry, when she kisses you it’s sweet, reverent, and you smile against her lips. 

When she leans back, you press a finger to her dimple. 

9 more to go.

taglist: @suckerforcate

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Support your authors and lmk what you think <3

[thedelusionalbitchgianna]

Emily: ARE YOU-

Morgan: Fucking.

Emily: KIDDING ME?! YOU-

Morgan: Fucking.

Emily: IDIOT!

Spencer: …What was that?

Morgan: Hotch banned Emily from swearing, so I’m helping her out.

[httpjupiterbby]

i hate it here so i will go to secret gardens in my mind (fictional women)

[thir10th]

clothes-emily prentiss x fem!reader

summary: a slow morning with Emily when you've just started dating tw: make out, no smut, just domestic fluff w Emily A/n: i was just in the mood for a little drable, what can i say

You feel a paw lightly patting your face, the soft fur tickling your nose

"Serge, please, 5 minutes" you groan at the cat that has already set on your pillow, wrapping himself in a little black ball, you'd find it incredibly cute hadn't he just woken you up an hour before your alarm went off.

You decide it's a lost battle and move to leave him occupy your pillow, burying your face on the other one, it smells like Emily's shampoo.

The woman feels your body pressing against hers, and she turns around to meet your face, her naked body pressing against yours closer now.

Her eyes still closed, she's still half asleep but she gives you a soft peck on your lips "mh-morning" she mutters.

Her silky black hair tickles your face, but you don't move, you let it cover your forehead and you inhale the scent.

"why doesn't he wake you up? he's technically your son"

"because you spoil him too much" she twists around trying to grab part of the sheet falling off the bed due to last night's activities.

Her nose scrunches in comfort, you think it's adorable and can't help but to kiss it. She barely reacts, which makes you think she's probably still too asleep to correspond.

Last night had been your 3rd real date with Emily, the familiarity you already felt being the result of the time you had spent being "just friends" until you finally gave in on your attraction to each other. You wouldn't have it any other way.

It had been Emily's turn for last night's date, after getting back from work, she cooked, opened a bottle of wine, and you ended the night making out in the coach, and the bed, and the shower, and then the bed again. You felt exhausted in the most perfect way.

"so what, i give him a little too many him treats, he deserves them" you sigh, giving up on sleep coming back to you.

You stand up, unwrapping your body from Emily's strong grip around your waist, she whines, but ends up giving it up and wrapping herself around the pillow.

You scratch Sergio behind the ears, and move to pick up something to put on so you can go make breakfast

you grab the blue shirt that she wore yesterday, and a pair of her boxers, both were laying on the floor, scattered around along with the rest of both your clothes.

You follow the trail that was left on the corridor, you find your pants and Emily's, your bra, your shirt, all the way to the living room. You pick them up, leaving them on the couch, then following to the kitchen.

You secure your headphones in your ears and pull up a favorite playlist. Coffee percolating. Music going. You hum along and gather the ingredients you need to make pancakes, the easiest recipe you could ever memorize.

You crack the eggs carefully, making sure no shells fall into the mixture, you swing around to the music in your ears, dancing to it as you cook.

One by one, the stack of pancakes gets bigger until you run out of mix, you sip on your coffee, turning around to set the table, but when you do, you jump.

"Jesus!" Emily leans on the wall, she watches you with a grin on her face "How long have you been standing there? You almost killed me"

"just enough, are you making pancakes?" she asks, you can't help but to feel embarrassed, she says she's been there enough, which probably means she's seen all your musical number, at least most of it

"Yes, you can get this there until I'm done here" you tell her, turning around to finish up, but instead of doing what you asked, she comes around you, wrapping her arms around your waist, hugging you from behind.

"you smell so nice" she whispers, her head rests on your shoulder, she kisses you there, and on your neck, leaves a trail of small, sweet kisses along your shoulder.

Her hands caress your waist, "you’re wearing my shirt" she says, pressing her lips against your pulse point which makes you chuckle "i am" you say.

Her fingers slowly brushing the bare skin behind her boxers "and my boxers" she nibs at the soft skin on your neck, the smile on your face doesn't fade, you turn to face her, surrounding her neck with your arms

"do you mind? that- that i wear your clothes- I mean"

"no, no, of course not" her hand moves to take a couple of hair strands off your face, placing them behind your hear in a loving gesture

"in fact- you look really good in my clothes" the bright smile on her face turns into a devilish one

her lips crash against yours, lips and tongue, the wetness in her soft lips making you groan on her mouth, she swallows your sounds, her hand grabs your face, yours wrapping around her waist, gripping the flesh.

You separate you lips from hers to much of your distaste "let me just finish this ok? can you wait just a second?" you ask, but she doesn't let go off you, her hands on your waist lower to get your ass, giving a light squeeze

“Maybe. We’ll see,” Emily chuckles, the intensity of her kisses and touches increasing now, tugging you back into her chest. Emily kisses the side of your head, and groans about having to wait to have you.

You finish all up as fast as you can, trying to ignore the woman-koala that's wrapped around your waist, kissing your shoulder where the shirt keeps falling off.

"ok, I'm all yours now, try not to burn me, the stove is still warm" she lets out a devilish laugh

“mh, I like how that sounds, mine”

she loves hearing you’re hers, and you know it. She bites at your earlobe possessively.

she presses you into the counter, her kisses get heavier, hotter, deeper. "Ems-" you say breathlessly "mh?" she asks, her lips back onto yours.

"don't start something you can't finish" you say taking a moment to get away from her lips, but she's back at it in no time

"who says i'm not finishing this?"

Before you can even react, she lifts you up to the counter, you wrap your legs around her waist, your ankles pressing on her ass.

"I let you in my pants a couple of times and now it's all you can think about, who would've said SSA Prentiss was such a needy woman" you joke, her lips still kissing your neck, she snatches at you and kisses you again, biting your lip a little harder than usual

"well, i guess i just can't get enough of you" her lips crashing against yours once more "you're just lucky you're so cute, or i wouldn't let you get away with something like that"

Her words have an immediate effect on you, making you whine aloud "oh, please, don't let me get away with it"

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

I can write a thousand of this if you like them! I’m a sucker for intimacy and domestic Emily!!!! 😭😭😭

Like and reblog <3

[mwahmimi]

Telling secrets, there on the mattress. 💋

Taking another sip of the Merlot that Emily had kindly poured out for you into your lipstick-stained glass, you felt dizzy. You were somewhat seeing double in your inebriated state, but you didn’t mind, what’s better than one Prentiss? A second, obviously.

Tenderly she leans forward, you gaze into her eyes, each coffee coloured iris just sparkling under the big central light. Her lips pin up into a smirk, exposing her dimples on either side. Intoxicated and confident, you match her movement but let Emily lead the way. She was always the one in control, every time you met up, she took care of you.

It’s a dance the two of you have done for years, she takes to dinner, douses your stomach with too much red wine and pasta, shyly holds your hand down the street as she brings you home. It’s always the same excuse; “come and see how much Sergio has grown!”

In all fairness, you do get to cuddle with Sergio every time. But he lays between the pair of you, both of you, exhausted and nude, with the light from the cheap nylon curtains peeking through and gracing your bodies in sunlight.

This evening was no different, her crimson nails trailing up your wrists leaving your arms decorated with goosebumps under her fingers.

“You look so gorgeous tonight.” Emily all but purrs her compliment into your ears, her breath tickling over your neck causing you to shiver. She always knew how to get to you, her touch made your body ignite, no matter how little or gentle it was.

Her hands find your thighs, squeezing softly and skittering her nails in between them, feeling the pudgy flesh under her fingers and your conscious collapsing underneath her. Her smirk only grew wider with the knowledge you were hers, putty in her hands once again. With her lips marking your neck, biting heart shaped bruises into your porcelain complexion, you shuffle closer. Tearing her lips from your throat, crashing your lips into hers.

She tastes like the wine you shared and your fondest memories, no matter how much you try to deny her, you can’t deny the hold she has over. Pushing the thoughts of what your mother would think of you right now, your tongue makes its way into her mouth. Oh you could never resist her, and with her kiss she calls for you like a siren song. Every single brush of her tongue more sensual than the last.

“You missed me?” Emily teases, letting her knee push against your heat when she notices you squirming. Holding you closer and undressing you like you were the best present on Christmas morning. Watching her pupils widen as she glances over your now-bare breasts, she shakes her head and chuckles, leaning down to suckle over your rosebud nipples.

Unable to escape the pleasure, you rut yourself against her knee like a bitch in heat for as long as you’re allowed before Prentiss pushes your back to the mattress. Pinning you down with her hips as she plants gentle, wet kisses over your belly. Taking her time to tease around your belly button, twiddling with the piercing that resides there as you gasp and groan. With each kiss she travels further and further south, before her mouth meets your underwear-clad cunt.

Peeling away your already soaked thong, she brushes her finger over your clit, her touch featherlight and teasing. Noticing the way your head falls back in ecstasy as she taunts you with what you were both wanting.

“Tell me you want me.” She husked, twirling her fingers either side of your heart, just touching so close to where you wanted her most. The sensations were maddening, your core clenches around nothing as if it was asking for her fingers itself. You mewl out a few sweet nothings about how you’ve waited for this since the last time, how you can only get yourself off if you think about her standing at the end of your bed. With her hair tied up and her makeup a little messy, her strap-on tied tightly around her hips as she orders you to suck her dick. How the only thing that can make you cum alone anymore is the thought of looking up at her through your lashes and reminiscing of the feeling of her hand scratching your scalp as she praises you.

“Then you can have me, all of me.” The taller girl cooed before her fingers find your pussy once more. She traces circles over it softly, knowing how much you enjoy the build up and how much it drives you crazy when you get needy and beg for more. Your hips jerk up, searching for more of her, needing all that she could give you. She complies, making herself comfortable between your thighs before she tilts her face forward and passionately begins making out with your pussy. Each gentle stroke of her tongue flickering over your bead makes you beg. Thighs wrap round her head like a spider caught in a web, but Emily is not the prey and you are not a spider. For as long as you’ll let her, she’ll eat you out until you cry for mercy. You belong to her.

Emily flattens her tongue and licks stripes up to your clit, swirling her tongue around it with every stripe, completely unfazed by the bucking of your hips up into her face. They crash and collide like waves in the ocean and you were desperately to ride that high, your orgasm approaching quicker and quicker. When it hits it’s a tsunami, the mental memories flash before your eyes when the fireworks go off inside your belly, rutting your hips into her lips begging for more whilst your hands tug at her hair and caresses the back of her hair as gentle as you could be.

“P-Please.. Em please.. Again… Need to so bad.” You choked on your own words, sobbing in pleasure as you clench your thighs around her. Her hands make their way to your waist, pushing her thumbs into the depths of your hipbones, forcibly restraining you with her strength. Looking up at you through her eyelashes and nodding her head, you let go.

Coming undone on her tongue like it’s what you were born to do. You groan and writhe on her bed, soaking into her sheets you feel paralysed in pleasure. And she just won’t. Let. Up. She knew your maximum was two, you were never able to reach a third peak, by the end of your second orgasm, especially with Emily, you were exhausted.

Prentiss sucks on your clit through your orgasm, pushing your limits to see if she could get another one out of you. Over sensitive and now over tired you lay back, defeated. Letting her toy with you, using you as her very own sex you, you feel it. That familiar, wobbly feeling deep inside. You shriek, “N-No more, it’s too much.” Your demands fall on her deaf ears, lapping over your heat and suckling on your clit harshly.

Lightening strikes inside you again as you orgasm a third time. Convulsing, arching your back high off of the mattress you practically scream out for her. “Oh fuck Em! Yes! Right there!” With each word your pitch gets higher and squeakier, your thighs go limp underneath you and shaking through the after-shocks. You look down at the wet patch you’ve made on Em’s bed sheets, peeking through your squinted eyes, you examine her. Her lips now plump and swollen but still oh-so kissable, pussy drunk on the mix of her own saliva and your juices. Pulling her in for a gentle, you taste yourself on her breath.

Still blissed out, you fall back onto the mattress beside her. Her arm sneaking around your shoulder, pulling you close to her chest and letting your face rest on her breasts. Giggling softly with your noses rubbing against each others, all because you called her breasts your pillows. Taking turns being the little spoon to each other because how can you not want to hold her after she’s given you everything. Emily flutters her eyelashes against your cheek, butterfly kisses under the moon light with her would bring world peace, you thought silently.

You slip your hand into hers once more, interlocking your fingers and turning off the light. You sleep in her arms, her musky scent filling your nostrils and you just wish you could bottle it to keep forever. When you wake up, she’s gone.

A post-stick note on the bedside table reads, “Called into work early, I’ll be home around 6. Make yourself at home.” With a badly drawn love heart underneath the emergency contact number, you smile. This time, you’re not her’s for one night.

[halfwayhearted]

season 2 Gf!Emily Prentiss blurb where she and reader are having a cuddling together after emily’s first case with the team and reader is just comforting her and its like a cute domestic moment and they have a cat that insists on sitting with them!

Sailor Song — Emily Prentiss.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

Summary: After one of her first cases with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, Emily wants nothing more than to be by your side. Your cat, Bambi, seems to feel the same.

Word Count: 595+

Disclaimer/s — Just comfort and fluff!

A/N: So! I actually didn’t follow this request through for the first part and only noticed when I reread… hey… I also need this woman so bad, it’s actually becoming concerning.

Late. It was so, so very late.

It was the middle of the night when your phone rang. Groggily, you fumbled around in the dark. Your fingers finally closed around your phone, and you squinted at the screen, ready to decline the call until you saw who it was – your girlfriend.

Quickly, you answer, “Hi, are you okay?”

Sounds of shuffling are heard on the other end before she replies, “Yeah. Hey—I’m sorry, I��m fine. I just wanted to call and let you know that I was on my way home. Did I… did I wake you?”

Yes. “No, no, no,” you told her, “I’ll be waiting.”

With that, you exchange small ‘I love you’s and hang up. Rubbing your eyes, you sit up and move to grab one of her sweaters – her brown one, to be exact. It was comfortable and, well, her. Once it was on, you made your way into the living room.

After about twenty minutes, you heard the door unlocking and swinging open, and in walked the woman you loved and hadn’t seen for the last couple of days. You smile, “Hey, Em.”

She says your name in return, sounding so tired. You knew the lack of sleep she’d be getting from now on would be inevitable, but it still didn’t stop the pang of hurt from going through you.

Sliding off her shoes, she drops her bag onto the side table and moves to lock the door. That’s when you got up and walked toward her, wasting no time in sliding your arms around her neck. “Missed you so much,” you mumbled.

Emily lets out a deep breath, her hands sliding around your torso and pulling you closer. Burying her face into the crook of your neck, her warm breath tickles your skin. That was a reply in itself.

‘I missed you too.’

A couple of long seconds of silence pass when you reluctantly pull away and grab her hand, guiding the both of you to the couch. You plop down and look up at her with expectation. With a huff of laughter, she settles down beside you.

Gently regrasping her hand in yours, you trace the palm of her hand. “So, how was it?”

“It was… stressful, to say the least.” She sighed, “Very, very stressful. How were you? Good?”

You frowned at that, “Stressful, huh? I’ve been okay, worried about you, of course. How was everybody? Did they treat you well?”

“I don’t know, I think it’ll take them a while. But, they were professional. They were fine.”

Humming softly, you watch how she moves to rest her head on your shoulder, brings her knees up to her chest, and closes her eyes.

“You’re strong, you know that, right?” It was something you had always told her. She was so strong, and you just hoped she knew that at the end of the day. You were very proud of her.

She smiles against your shoulder, “I know.”

Just as you’re about to get comfortable, your cat, Bambi, meows from beside you, making you sigh. “It looks like Bambi thinks so too.”

“Of course she does,” the raven-haired woman chuckled, extending her arms and gently lifting your precious cat onto her lap, admiring how she nestled in between the two of you. “Look!”

Your eyes shone with affection, and you knew this moment would stay with you for days. You pressed a kiss to Bambi’s fur, then placed a tender kiss on your girlfriend’s temple, continuing what you had intended before the brief but welcome interruption, your eyes fluttering shut.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @pedrilcvr ! ౨ৎ (I love you, my beautiful…)

[violetrainbow412-blog]

How about Morgan discovering something inappropriate in Spencer's stuff and the team laughing because it's the reader's? 👀

send me more ideas for blurbs if you want!

“Can someone lend me a buck?” Morgan asked, walking into the desks in the bullpen, where Emily, Spencer, JJ and you were sitting. “The machine doesn't accept mine.”

“Try another day, I only bring three dollars in coins for the subway back,” you laughed, as you signed the report you had just written.

“I always fold my bills in half to fit in my wallet, sorry.”

“I'll lend you one,” muttered Spencer, who was too busy on the computer participating in a heated discussion on a blog about Carl Sagan “Look in my jacket, it's there.”

Morgan followed his friend's pointing finger and when he found the garment on the back of a chair, he searched the right pocket, but found nothing. He then searched in the left one and although he felt the leather box that housed the man's money, a piece of cloth next to it also caught his attention. Captured by curiosity, he took it and when he took it out he couldn't help but utter a surprised whistle.

“Look what we have here,” he laughed.

Spencer had no idea what it could be and turned to look at him, but when he realized what it was he rushed to snatch it from his hands and jealously keep it in his pants pocket. Unfortunately, everyone present had noticed that it was a piece of black lingerie, which obviously did not belong in the doctor's wardrobe.

“Weren't you looking for the money?” Spencer cleared his throat, under the watchful eyes of his friends.

“Well, my hands touched that before!” Morgan apologized, but without a hint of guilt in his words.

Prentiss and JJ had always believed that there was some unresolved tension between you and the man, so they looked in your direction thinking that the fact that he carried women's underwear in his pocket would negatively affect you. However, they were both surprised when they noticed that you were completely blushing and pretending to pay attention to some documents that, in fact, you had already reviewed. Both of them shared a knowing look of understanding and JJ suppressed a smile.

Spencer walked to his wallet to get the money his friend needed and handed it to him without saying anything, but clearly embarrassed by what had just happened.

The mistake that ended up giving away both of you was when, almost as if it were planned, his eyes met yours and a nervous and almost imperceptible smile crossed your face.

“I didn't think you were the type to collect those kinds of trophies, Reid,” Emily murmured, clearly trying to touch a nerve, but not intending to be rude. All she wanted was to joke a little about what had definitely been going on between you for who knows how long.

JJ, on the other hand, kept an eye on you, noticing in all your body language the embarrassment of having been caught.

“Shut up,” he snorted, but as soon as she started laughing Spencer did too and then you joined them.

“I just asked myself: who will be the lucky one?” Morgan muttered playfully “Y/N?” you froze and looked up at him, debating whether to admit guilt or lie.

"Yeah?"

“Do you want me to bring you something from the machine?” he murmured, pretending to be friendly, but from the smile on his face it was obvious that he had deduced the truth.

"No. Thank you, Derek.”

"It's no big deal. We have to be cordial with our co-workers, don't we, Reid?”

A new wave of giggles filled the atmosphere and even you, the most affected, ended up joining in the mockery.

Spencer could only think that from now on if he wanted to keep a memory of you, he would have to be more careful with where he left it.

[allisluv]

criminal minds thought about emily: her having come home from a tough case that reminded her of you and being super clingy and protective of you even though you’re sat at home doing nothing: she’ll always be holding your hand, stroking your hair etc!!

pairing: emily prentiss x fem!reader

content warnings: fluff with a little bit of hurt/comfort (emilys had a bad day), an innuendo that could be interpreted sexually but it's not intended that way.

word count: 200

you know emilys had a bad day when she comes home from work with a frown on her pretty face and a slump in her shoulders.

almost on an instinct, you put your book on your bedside locker and open your arms. when emily comes to you without an ounce of stubbornness in her body, you know it must have been really bad. emily flops onto the double bed, and curls up next to you, her arms slung over your stomach and her head resting on your chest.

you let out a small sigh of sympathy. "that bad, huh?"

emily nuzzles her face into the valley between your breasts, and breathes in the scent of lavender. somehow it grounds her. "ive had better days," she admits as she pats the other side of the bed.

you understand what she's trying to communicate through the action and lace your fingers with hers. "that sucks. i'm sorry, baby," you murmur, peppering kisses along her hairline. emily grunts non-committedly and intertwines her legs with yours, too. "do you want me to make some of that pasta i know you like?"

"no!" emily whines when you try to get up and she clings to you, tightening her hold on you. "just wanna lay here for a while. stay here with me?"

you kiss her forehead and lie back down. you always like when emily's clingy. it's a side of her that you don't rarely see. "of course i will."

[samuelsdean]

WooPea!

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: you start your day right, cracking science jokes & making spencer reid smile. the other bau team members be damned! or, you crack the worst jokes in the planet & emily has had enough of it.

genre: fluff

word count: 481

author's notes: one thing about me is i enjoy spencer's tangents so i hope you'll enjoy this one.

MAYBE IT WAS A LITTLE BIT IMMATURE OF YOU TO CRACK THE SILLIEST SCIENCE JOKES TO GET THE ATTENTION YOU WANTED FROM THAT ONE COWORKER OF YOURS. But who cares? One smile from Dr. Spencer Reid, and you’ve turned into mush, a completely melted piece of goo. What makes you want to crack stupid jokes is the fact that right after smiling brightly like he was the sun himself, Spencer would go off on one of his tangents, explaining the mechanics and science behind whatever it is you just joked about. 

And so, you do it every single day as soon as you enter the bullpen, Spencer quickly rushing to your side to hear what you have to say while the others—Emily, Derek, and JJ—are quick to reach their invisible soundproof headphones—ready to muffle the sounds of yours and Spencer’s giggles.

It’s surprising to them that both of you still haven’t realized that one is in love with the other. It’s cute but irritating. The amount of mutual pining and stupidity from two of the brightest minds in the FBI, being able to profile prolific criminals but not the person who’s always two steps away from the other. At this point, both of you were joined at the hip. If they saw you, there’s no doubt Spencer is right behind you, and vice versa. 

And today is just like any other day, you arrived with a new joke in mind, and Spencer rushed to your side ready to hear you. 

“What did Gregor Mendel say when he founded Genetics?” You perkily asked the man beside you handing you your coffee. “And thanks for the coffee, Reid.”

“What?” Reid questioned as he nodded at your thanks. 

“WooPea!” You laughingly replied as you could hear the simultaneous groans of three other people behind Reid. “You do know I could hear all three of you, right?” You frowned jokingly.

“We know. That’s why we’re groaning.” 

“Oh, come on, you guys!” Spencer came to your defense. “It was a funny joke! Gregor Mendel would’ve definitely said that. The Pisum sativum, or what we commonly know as the garden pea, helped him carry out a lot of key experiments that studied inheritance. Even geneticists still use that nowadays.”  

Spencer continued babbling which you encouraged as you both sat down at your respective tables. Both of you too lost in your bubble to hear the others, Emily sighed and turned to Derek and JJ.

“I’ve had enough of those two.” She muttered a bit bitterly. “If not one of them confesses by the end of the week, or so help me God! I will take it in my hands and lock them inside a closet to figure it out.”

Both Derek and JJ broke out in fits of laughter, catching both yours and Spencer’s attention.

“Hey! Fill us both in on what’s going on!” 

[rainydayathogwarts]

Suspicions - Spencer Reid

wc: 600 ish Summary: Spencer finally outs his and reader's relationship to the team, who inevitably already knew about it.

It wasn't as though Spencer was a public person. In fact, when it came to his coworkers, he was quite the opposite. Since you were always with each other, why not have some aspect of your life to yourselves? But when it came to him being sat in a vehicle that Hotch was driving whilst you and Morgan were in the unsub's house all alone, there was nothing he wanted to do more than yell at his boss to go faster because the love of his life was in danger.

He had been there before, he knew the risks, and he wasn't about to let the same mistake happen to you. Spencer sat silently, his eyes trained on Rossi who sat in the passenger's seat, tuning out Emily's voice on the phone with Garcia. Spencer's fingers uncontrollably tapped against his thigh, his thoughts racing a hundred miles per second. The second Hotch parked the car, Spencer had his gun by his side and was running into the house, despite Hotch's cry for him to stay put. Three pairs of footsteps followed him; Hotch, Rossi and Prentiss, who had his back regardless of his reckless action.

The house was eerily silent which had Spencer's heart beating increasingly fast. "Back door's open!" Emily called, and Spencer spun on his heels to find her sprinting out the open door. He followed her suit. Him, Prentiss, Rossi and Hotch stopped when they lost track of the footsteps, looking around the empty plane to see where you could possibly be.

The sound of tackling followed by a scream perked their ears up. Your scream.

They all hurriedly followed the sound, where they found you on top of the unsub, holding him down as you cuffed him in spite of his lack of consciousness. Spencer ignored Derek, who was crouched down on the floor, hand on what looked like a man made gravestone, instead rushing over to you as you rolled off the man. You let out a tired sigh, but your attention was caught by your boyfriend who was running towards you before falling onto his knees in front of you to grab your jaw and press his soft lips to yours.

You let out a squeak of surprise, but shut your eyes, hands coming up to grip Spencer’s shirt, poking out from underneath his bullet-proof vest and deepening the kiss slightly. You broke the kiss, leaning your forehead against your boyfriends, opening your mouth to say “He bit me.” Spencer shot away from you, eyes immediately searching for where the unsub hurt you, but you were too busy noticing the looks from your coworkers. Hotch was trying to hide his smile, looking away from you and Spencer when your eyes widened and your jaw went slack as though you were trying to find some excuse to tell. He shook his head, walking towards Derek, who had a wide grin on his face despite the situation. Emily and Rossi similar looks on their faces and Emily walked over to you, patting you on the shoulder and stating “About time! It’s been what, a year of you guys dating behind our backs?” 

At her words, Spencer looked up from your forearm that he was gripping, looking at the nasty bite mark which had started to bleed, his face going a dark shade of red. “You knew?” They all hummed in unison, Rossi adding “We had our suspicions but they were confirmed when we saw you guys kissing in the parking lot about two months later.”

Then Morgan's amused "... God, I have to tell Garcia."

[reidsaurora]

hi hi. :)) me annoying my writer friends, so of course i have to come find you.

emily x cj (of course, i think jay has the tag, so it’s a thing 😂)

an angsty, happy ending birthday fic. everything is up to you.

"A Not-So-Happy Birthday" ~ E. Prentiss

Summary: Somehow, word gets out that it's your birthday, and the response is not at all what you're expecting.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x GN!Reader (that's of course implied to be CJ)

Word Count: 883

Content Warning: overall angsty, mentions of food, slight family drama but not really, lmk if i missed anything!!

Genre: Angst to implied Fluff

Extra Notes: i hate the summary too akshsjhs

Based On: the aforementioned request from CJ, my beloved 🫶🏻

Originally Written: 01/23/2022

Beta Read By: @ssahotchnerr

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

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"Why didn't you tell anyone it was your birthday?"

A simple enough question, but it was enough to finally break you. The tears you'd been holding back since you woke up that morning finally released, fat droplets of repressed tears soaking your heated cheeks.

You'd worked with the BAU for three years now, and not once had you made it a point to tell them what day your birthday fell on. After all, what was there to tell? Your own family never made it a point to celebrate your birth, why would your colleagues who you hardly knew?

But by the time your birthday rolled around again, the third one you'd celebrated as a BAU agent, you'd come to know your colleagues as much more than that. By this point, they were your closest friends. You knew that if you told them, they'd go all out and decorate the whole office in decorations for you.

But maybe that's why you never said anything. Penelope would cover the office in streamers and balloons while JJ would spend the night before baking every sweet thing known to mankind. And don't even start on Spencer's impeccable taste in gifts.

You'd planned on treating this day like you would any other. You'd wake up, have breakfast, get to work, and get things done. If you were lucky, you'd treat yourself to one of those single slices of vanilla cake from the grocery store.

But somehow, word had gotten out that today was your birthday. When you arrived at the office, someone had left flowers and a blue balloon with "Happy Birthday" written in the curliest cursive font you'd ever seen.

When you walked in, you locked eyes with Emily, who had quite the questioning look on her face. And when you spotted Penelope and Spencer standing by your desk and eating cupcakes, you knew. Someone had figured you out, or rather your birthday. And from the looks of it, they either loved you a lot or (your more likely scenario) this was some kind of sick joke.

You turned on your heels and sprinted out of the room, but not fast enough to beat the clicking of Emily's favorite black boots following behind. She grabbed your wrist, her fingertips heating your skin like a matchstick, and pulled you into one of the empty offices.

"Why didn't you tell anyone it was your birthday?" she asked, her tone soft but inquisitive.

You were rendered speechless. How could you possibly explain not telling them about your birthday? No matter what you said, you knew you'd end up embarrassed and insecure.

You sat down in the lone office chair, hanging your head in your hands. Tears gushed out of your eyes, sobs wracking your body.

Emily stooped down in front of you, placing a kind and comforting hand on your knee. "Y/N?"

You managed to look up, wiping away some of the excess tears on your face. "How did you find out?"

"Penelope did," she answered. "Her own birthday was last week, so she got curious and looked up yours. She hated that we've never celebrated you so she wanted to change that."

Your heart panged with a slight feeling of selfishness. You knew they'd never understand why you hated your birthday, but you also knew they'd respect your feelings either way if you'd just told them.

"Why didn't you tell us it was your birthday?" she repeated, lifting your chin with her index finger, wiping away a one-off tear that had slipped down to your chin.

You let out a long breath, thinking over your response in your head. Finally, you answered, "Ever since I was younger, I've hated my birthday. Most of the time, my family just forgot about it, but when they did remember it, they never made a point to make it special. Once I moved out, I just decided I didn't have a birthday. Or rather, no one would know that I did."

Emily took a small breath before helping you up from the chair. Her hands sat on either side of your face, her chocolate eyes nearly burning a hole straight through you. No matter how hard you tried, you could never pull yourself away from her gaze. "Y/N, you should know by now that we would never do that to you. You might be blood-related to those people, but we're your real family. We love you. I love you."

Her words shouldn't have shocked you, but they did. The way she made it a point to protect you on cases, the way she always took your extra paperwork, the way she knew exactly how you took your coffee. She did love you, and some part of you probably always knew that, but now it had been confirmed for all of you.

She pulled you in for a feather-light kiss on the forehead before her arms wrapped tightly around your torso. "Please don't ever hide anything like this from me again."

You gave her a half-smile before leaving a ghost of a kiss on the corner of her mouth. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Now then," she said, a toothy grin appearing on her face, "why don't we go make up for lost time and celebrate all those birthdays you never told me about?"

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ok yeah i can't decide if i love or hate this but!!!! happy birthday, @lcvingprentjss!! i hope this year is the best one yet! i hope you get everything you wished for and that you get to wat a big ol' slice of vanilla cake! (maybe even eat an extra piece for me, ok?)

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[emilys-bangs]

The last thing you reblogged gave me an idea !

Touch starved Emily who is friends with you but would never dare ask you for unnecessary hugs etc., you two are close but she doesn’t want to cross that bridge since she definitely likes you a lot more than just a friend and also she’s scared of being so open and vulnerable that she admits she needs a hug and a cuddle.

You two are on a case once again, end up rooming together and there’s only one bed. You both don't really mind and go to sleep, each one on their respective side of the bed - except when you wake up in the middle of the night, Emily is cuddled around you, having subconsciously seeked your touch while she’s asleep.

You can decide how to go from there if this idea is any good to you, no worries if not and I hope you have a great week 😘😘

Tysm for requesting, I hope you have a great week as well! I sincerely thank that one post about touch starved Emily that made us all go insane <3

----

Midas touch | emily prentiss x reader

Tags: touch starved Emily, room sharing, bed sharing, fluff, a ridiculous amount of yearning

Word count: 2.5k

You’d have to be blind not to notice Emily’s affinity for touch.

It’s something you’ve picked up on after a mere week in the BAU, and honestly, you’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like she craves touch, physically needs the added comfort of hands wrapping around elbows, arms slung across shoulders and casual side-hugs. In the more lax confines of Rossi’s living room or o’keefe’s, it’s not unusual to see her wrapped around somebody, or at least closely sharing what’s meant to be personal space. 

At work, however, it’s different; a bit more subtle, but still palpably flowing with love—the way she sneaks behind Garcia’s chair and wraps her arms around her neck in hello, Emily’s cheek pressing against the analyst’s. How she runs her fingers through Spencer’s messy curls, and how—despite his protests—he lets her, almost imperceptibly leaning into her hand before she pulls away. Her hip is frequently attached to JJ’s, their temples touching as she slides her palm into the back pocket of JJ’s jeans. Rossi is given paternal kisses on the cheek, Morgan dragged around with his hand in hers, their fingers interlocking in a weave of pale and dark. Even Hotch gets his fair share of physical affection from her, though more subtle but no less loving; a tugging at his belt loops, a nimble fixing of his tie, the brush of her fingers along his elbow.

Everyone gets a piece of Emily’s attention. 

Everyone except you.

It upsets you in ways you can’t fully explain—at least not without admitting to yourself that you’re falling deeply and helplessly in love with her. None of it remotely makes sense; despite her very deliberately withholding her touch from you, she’s been nothing but lovely, always having your back and gently correcting you when you slip up. 

But still, when an overbooked hotel forces Hotch to relay the unfortunate news of doubling up and she turns to you, surprise renders you silent. 

“Me and you?” Emily asks, paying no mind to JJ next to her.

You speak through your dry throat, “Um—yeah, sure.”

Hotch places the key in your hand, glad to have one pair down. You dig it into the flesh of your palm.

“I’ll take that one, thank you.” Rossi plucks a key from Hotch’s hand and turns away, leisurely walking to the elevator as protests rise behind him.

Hotch shakes his head, exasperated. You almost feel sorry for him. “Morgan?” He says, looking at him. Morgan nods, which leaves JJ with Reid.

Reid looks pleased; JJ less so, but she doesn’t protest as she takes the key from Hotch.

“Aww, good luck, pretty girl.” Emily coos, cupping JJ’s cheek and tapping it playfully. Jealousy stirs in your stomach, hot and acidic as JJ shrugs off her hand with an eye roll, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

The key is in your hand so you turn on your heel, a bad taste in your mouth as Reid starts to protest, the sound getting lost somewhere between Emily’s soft laughs.

She knows them longer than she knows you, you think as you take the stairs two at a time, trying to outrun the beating of your heart. Your somewhat blurry eyes pick out the door with the matching number on your key. Your legs take you to it, almost on autopilot.

“Hey, wait up,” Emily’s voice carries, reaching you in a cloud of spun silk. There’s a rush of air behind you and you feel her creeping over your shoulder, the scent of her perfume choking you sweetly. “You don’t want me to sleep in the hall, do you?”

You can’t bring yourself to rise to the teasing in her voice. Fitting the key in the lock with unsteady fingers, you mumble, “Would’a let you in if you’d knocked.”

But trying to keep your distance doesn’t work, because the one bed in the room glares at you as soon as you push the door open.

Your throat goes dry. 

Emily hovers impatiently at your back and you swallow as you take a step into the threshold of the room, wondering how the hell she’d share a bed with you when she seems reluctant to touch you in the first place.

Panicked, you take your bag and head into the bathroom before Emily can say anything, desperately needing a moment to compose yourself. It’s safe to say you spend more time in there than you usually would, lengthening your short routine to busy yourself.

Only when you’ve semi-calmed down do you go out, finding her perched on the edge of the large—king sized, at least—bed.

“Hey. Are you okay with this?” Emily’s eyes are wide and dark, shining with concern. 

There’s no place for you to sleep anyway if you said no, but somehow you get the feeling she’d make it work if you were uncomfortable. A confused rush of emotion runs hot under your skin; lingering jealousy and ever present bitterness and confusing pleasure at her concern.

God, you need to go to bed.

“I’m fine with it,” you force a smile. It must not be very convincing, because Emily frowns, a delicate pull drawing her brows together. Just before she says something, you speak. “Are you okay with it?”

That snaps her out of it. “Yeah,” Emily murmurs, a dimple winking at you as she gives you a small smile, “as long as you don’t kick.”

You didn’t expect her to agree so easily. Some part of you wonders if she’s lying, but you can’t look at her eyes long enough to decipher that—you’re mildly afraid if you sunk into their depths you’d never be able to claw your way out.

“I haven’t had any complaints,” you try to shrug casually. “Do you prefer a side?”

“No, go ahead. It doesn’t matter what side I sleep on, I always somehow find my way in the middle.”

That makes you crack a smile.

The bathroom door clicks shut behind her and you press your knuckles into your eyes, wondering if you can possibly get through this night without losing your already delicate composure.

It’s just a bed, you tell yourself as you take out a pair of sweatpants to serve as pajamas. And it’s just for one night. It’s fine.

It’s fine. Sure it is.

You’re already in bed and beneath the sheets when Emily walks out of the bathroom. It’s a mistake to look at her, because you think you’ve just fallen deeper in love.

She’s shaking her hair out from the confines of its ponytail and it falls in soft waves around her shoulders, curling at the ends where the water sprayed it. A cotton tank top gently hugs her body, and pale blue shorts skim the tops of her thighs.

She’s not wearing a bra.

You’re staring.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to share tonight,” Emily smiles sheepishly as she lifts the covers and climbs into the bed. A lump is lodged in your throat at the sight of her bare legs slipping through the sheets, shimmering softly from her lotion. It smells sweet, she smells sweet—like warm cocoa butter—and it takes everything in you not to inhale deeply like a creep.

“Neither was I.” You croak. Emily settles her head on her pillow and you try not to stare at her lashes, so naturally long and thick even without her usual mascara.

She’s literally going to be the death of you.

“G’night,” you mumble and turn away before she can answer. The heat in your cheeks burns, and you dig them into the pillow in hopes of cooling them down.

“Night,” Emily whispers back. The sheets rustle as she presumably turns, too.

Needless to say, it takes a while for you to fall asleep. 

It must happen at some point, though, because something wakes you. You open your eyes to the darkness of the room, unsure what it is. You just know that you’re abnormally warm and trapped beneath something smelling like cocoa butter.

Emily.

Your sluggish brain slowly puts the pieces together. Her arm is around your neck, cutting across your chest; her thigh is hitched over your hip. Cold fingertips are hooked into the collar of your t-shirt and you shiver despite the warmth of your own body. Slow breaths puff across your neck, warm and even.

Briefly, you think you’re dreaming, but just as quickly that thought dissipates. She’s too real, too warm—and anyway your imagination could never come up with something as divine as this.

You’re not completely innocent either. Your arm is hooked around her waist, your skin directly touching the warm skin of her waist. Her tank top has risen up and your blurry eyes catch a tattoo on her hipbone; a faded butterfly.

You should let her go. 

It’s an internal battle, because she fits there, perfectly, and even though you know it’s wrong, you close your eyes and continue holding her. 

It’s wrong, it’s so wrong. She doesn’t want your touch. She’s made that perfectly clear, but her warm body, the soft tickle of her hair, they cloud your senses, fog your brain and hide all traces of reason or sensibility.

But still, half asleep or not, you can’t betray her trust like this.

You’re just about to force yourself to let go when Emily snuggles closer, a long sigh escaping through her nose. Her lashes tickle your skin, wispy and light across your neck as she nestles into your collarbone.

Fuck.

You hold still and wait for her to move again. She doesn’t, other than the steady rise and fall of her chest, so you close your eyes too. You would’ve thought it would be difficult to fall asleep with almost every inch of her body touching every inch of yours, but you’re encompassed in warmth and softness and the scent of cocoa butter. 

Really, it only takes a minute before you’re asleep again.

———

She’s still in your arms when you wake up. Your alarm didn’t ring yet—it must’ve been a combination of Emily’s warmth and your internal clock that woke you up.

Her head is now on your pillow, one of her knees slotted between yours and her arm around your waist. She’s like a clingy koala, even in her sleep, and it only makes your heart ache.

Through the blurriness in your vision you see the small freckles that dot her cheeks. They’re tiny, almost unnoticeable, scattered over the bridge of her nose and under her swooping lashes. Her fingers tighten in your shirt and again the guilt surfaces, but it’s so slow to rise in the pale morning light, when you’re sluggish with sleep.

Emily’s eyes flutter open. 

Shit, you freeze, your muscles stiffening. 

You’re caught.

Suddenly you’re staring into dark chips of obsidian, clouds of sleep swirling through them. At first Emily gives no reaction, but then her brain evidently catches up and her eyes widen, her fingers letting go of your shirt.

Just before you apologize, she does.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts. Her voice is raspy and you fight the shiver before it travels down your spine. “I get really—”

“Clingy,” you mumble. “Yeah, I know. It’s obvious.” Your voice is soft, mainly because you’re too tired to fight with your own demons so early in the morning.

“I’m really sorry,” Emily whispers again, mortified. Her cheeks flush a pretty pink as she retracts her arm and her leg, curling back into her side of the bed. The sheets she leaves behind are warm, and you fight the urge to place your hand where she once was.

“S’okay. You do it with everyone, I know that.” Then, because it’s the morning and your brain is half asleep and still fogged from holding her, you ask, “Why not with me, though?”

Her teeth chew down on her lip. “Why not you, what?” She mumbles.

“Emily,” you sigh, “it’s too early for you to mess with my head. You know what.”

Emily gives a sigh of her own. She doesn’t look at you as she fiddles with the hem of her tank top and drags it back down, hiding the exposed sliver of her torso. It doesn’t help that your eyes follow her movements, because her shorts have ridden up her thighs.

“It means…more when it’s you.” She eventually says, her voice quiet. Your breath hitches and she continues looking down, frowning at the hem of her tank top. “Everything does. Can’t touch you like that and pretend it means nothing.”

The slight slur to her voice makes her confession all the more intimate. As does her bed head, the red sleep lines on the underside of her arm. This is a soft Emily, a vulnerable one, and she’s laying herself bare for you in the morning light while sleep still lingers in both your eyes.

It only confirms your love for her.

Your relief is palpable; it quickly shifts to affection, something flowery crowding the back of your throat and making it hard to swallow. She doesn’t hate you, she doesn’t think you’re disgusting or repulsive. 

She couldn’t touch you because it would give her away. Because it’s the most genuine aspect of her, one she can’t dampen or hide any more than she can stop her heart from beating.

It seems almost too big a revelation for this small hotel room bathed in morning light. Still, your hand reaches for hers. You wrap your fingers around her own, both of them now resting gently on her stomach.

“It doesn’t have to mean nothing.” You whisper.

Emily’s eyes snap to yours. They’re like the black, bitter coffee you have no choice but knock back in precincts all over the country. They make your heart race, because they come closer—she comes closer—until both your heads are resting on the same pillow again. Emily cups your joint hands with her free one, reverently protecting the tenderness of your touch.

“You’re…” Her breath hitches and she falters, then sucks in a breath, “You’re telling me you want this?”

You squeeze her fingers. “More than anything.”

Emily blows out a low sigh. You bring your free hand up to trace the curve of her brow; she leans into it. “I do, too.” She confesses. “More than anything.”

Your thumb travels down to the corner of her mouth. “Then there’s nothing stopping us. Is there?” You ask gently.

“No.” Emily sighs. “Nothing.”

She tilts her head, lets you continue exploring her face with your fingertips. Her features are gently traced; the bridge of her nose and the outline of her lips and the shape of her brows. Slowly, her knee worms its way between both of yours.

You smile and Emily smiles back, a shy dimple in her cheek. 

“Be clingy. With me,” you murmur, keeping your voice low because you’re afraid love already spills from it, “I want you to be.”

Her nose nuzzles into your cheek. “You’ll soon regret saying that.” Emily mumbles, the vibration of her voice reverberating through your skin. It fills you with strange peace.

“Never.” You whisper.

Until the alarm rings, the two of you spend your time erasing away the boundaries, learning the lines of each other’s bodies with your fingertips with slow confidence.

Because now, you have all the time in the world.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism

[webdollzz]

sub!spencer, overstim, crossword puzzle, slight dumbification. teasing??? slight degrading??? idk. un-protected p n v, (don't do this!!) . that's it?˚

·:*¨ ¨*:·.·:*¨ ¨*:·.·:*¨ ¨*:·.·:*¨ ¨*:·.·:*¨ ¨*:·.·:*¨ ¨*:·.·:*¨ ¨*:·.·:*¨ ¨*:.

"okay.. okay. how about this one, spence? 'Common malapropism used to mean 'nonetheless'." You ask reid, your crossword puzzle on his chest, the paper laid flatly as your pen taps it. you roll your hips against reid, making him whine.

"i-..I dont know!" he says, voice filled with desperation.

"hm..no that's not it. 12 letters." you reply, your pen scribbling on the paper.

Reid let's out a soft cry, his hands gripping at your hip. "please- I cant- wanna cum. please?" He babbles, looking at you with the biggest puppy eyes he can spare. you laugh gently.

"No, not yet baby. cmon, last one. 'Common malapropism used to mean 'nonetheless'." You repeat, as you begin to slowly bounce up and down on spencers already overstimulated cock. he grips harder at your hips- if that's possible.

"I c-cant! it's too- much.." he whimpers.

"Here I thought you were some kind of genius, Spencer..." You tut. "think." you say, making his mind cloud over, trying his hardest to think, so he can finally cum.

"i-irregardless?" He mumbles, and you check over the crossword, gasping gently as you write it down.

"Yes! irregardless. Good boy Spence." you say, disregarding the crossword and speeding up your movements, drawing a loud whine from spencer.

"I knew you could do it, baby."

[kenzirr]

The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing across the walls as the night deepened. You were wrapped in Spencer's arms, your bodies pressed together in the most intimate of ways. His lips trailed soft kisses along your neck, making you shiver with anticipation.

"Did you know," Spencer murmured against your skin, his breath hot and enticing, "that during intercourse, the human body releases a surge of oxytocin?"

You let out a soft moan as he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate.

"Oxytocin, huh?" you managed to say, your voice trembling with pleasure.

"Yes," he continued, his voice steady despite the intensity of the moment.

"It's also known as the love hormone.

It helps strengthen the bond between partners."

He punctuated his words with a deep thrust, making you gasp. "So, we're bonding right now?" you asked playfully, your fingers digging into his back.

"Absolutely," he replied, a smile tugging at his lips. "It's fascinating how our bodies are wired for connection."

His movements picked up pace, each thrust driving you closer to the edge.

"Spencer," you breathed, "you're amazing."

He kissed you deeply, his lips capturing yours in a passionate embrace. "You make me want to learn more," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "About you, about us."

[thedelusionalbitchgianna]

Emily: *gets a text* Oh! It’s Morgan.

Spencer, excitedly: Did he get me the stuff?

Emily: Yeah, he says he got you the clown costume, the power drill, and 12 gallons of blood.

Spencer: Wow! Where’d he find 12 gallons of fake blood?

Emily: You wanted fake blood?

Spencer:

Emily: I’ll go call Morgan