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#yes most are emily because: emily prentiss.
spencestiel-michelle · 4 months
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All the Criminal Minds character’s incorrect quotes & incorrect one liners that i abandoned in 2023: 
Rossi: i couldn’t help but notice, a certain level of stupidity coming from this side of the room. 
Penelope: the amount of phone alarms i need to set to wake myself up at an ungodly hour is beginning to look like a Christmas tree. 
Emily: to be completely honest: i don’t want to be completely honest. 
JJ/Em/Pen: my favorite form of disassociation is making imaginary monster sundaes on buzzfeed quizzes. 
Emily: i’ve stopped drinking coffee because i’ve seen what it does to Penelope and Spencer and i’m scared for my life.
Emily: Scooby Doo taught us that the real monsters are humans.
JJ: for the love of Pete, go to bed! 
Emily: if you’re gonna steal, steal big. 
Hotch: Emily, no. just no. 
Hotch: no. 
Penelope: sweetie. i’m not pleading anymore, i’m demanding. get help. 
Emily: that story would make a cup of coffee fall asleep.
Emily: i am utterly and devotedly in a relationship with malicious compliance. 
Emily: new year, new me.
Derek: since when?
Emily: since… fuck you, Derek.
Derek: ah, there she is. 
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pathologicalreid · 6 months
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If your down could u write an imagine where reader is new to the bau and Spencer is just coming back from jail and he makes reader nervous and when he notices he starts to mess with her nothing to wild but he teases her every now and again -🖤
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drop | S.R.
in which reid seems to be there every time you drop something
who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader
category: fluff
content warnings: fluff, lighthearted teasing, clumsiness, obliviousness, reader is mentioned to be shorter than 5'7" (sorry it just worked for the story)
word count: 1.1k
a/n: hey anon! thanks for requesting, i think i may have verged away from the request on accident. also this is the one i posted about earlier that had been deleted by word so i had to rewrite it and therefore it's not very thoroughly proofread. hope you enjoy.
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It came as a shock, most people needed to apply to the BAU and even then, they spent years trying to get in. You had gotten a call four months ago and were told you were leaving IOD in the Hoover building and would be expected at the BAU the next morning.
Years ago, you had a run-in with Emily Prentiss while she was heading Interpol in London, but you didn’t think she remembered you – let alone wanted to work with you. She brought you on to the team to help catch Peter Lewis
Now, Peter Lewis was dead, and Spencer Reid had been exonerated. You thought your time with the team was done, but when Emily caught you packing up your things, she told you she had no intentions of sending you back to the International Operation Division.
So, you made yourself comfortable at your desk across from Luke’s, even adding a picture of your family, just to make it seem a little lived-in.
It was something you’d had drilled into your head by your father: if you’re not early, you’re late. That was the reason why you were usually the first to the BAU, only sometimes being beaten by Dr. Reid.
Penelope said he was harmless, but that didn’t change the fact that he made you nervous. Not nervous in the sense that you were scared of him, but nervous in the way that he was something of a legend in the FBI.
Even more so since his recent release from prison.
You felt a sort of disconnect from the team when it came to them trying to get Reid out of prison, whenever Nadie Ramos came up in conversation, you picked up your files on Mr. Scratch and distracted yourself. Of course, you helped where you were needed, but you didn’t know him like they did.
This particular morning, you had beaten him to the office, taking your spot at your desk and flipping through a file you had abandoned in the name of sleep last night. A slight crash made you jump so badly that you fumbled with the papers in an attempt to not drop them. You looked up to see Spencer had dropped his bag on his desk, “Good morning, Y/N.” He greeted you.
Blankly, you stare at him for a moment before giving him a half smile. “Good morning, Dr. Reid,” you responded.
“I told you that you could just call me Reid, or Spencer,” he said, sitting down at his own desk.
Nodding, you found yourself interested in your coffee cup. “Yes, you did,” you took a deep breath. “Good morning, Spencer,” you tried again, offering him a fuller smile.
That seemed to appease him for now because he flipped open his own files and started inspecting them.
As you were preparing for the 10 o’clock debrief, you found yourself in the office kitchenette, pouring a cup of coffee from the pot that had been brewed an indeterminate number of minutes ago. Vaguely aware of the person standing behind you, you turned around to find Spencer, holding his own mug in both hands. “Oh! Hey,” you said, mentally smacking the palm of your hand to your forehead.
You moved out of the way as you added cream to your mug, watching as Spencer poured his coffee and followed it up with an almost equal amount of sugar. As you were about to make your way to the round table room, Spencer spoke, “You know, before 1975 you wouldn’t even have been able to be an FBI agent.”
Furrowing your eyebrows, you stopped in your tracks and turned to face him, “Wait, what? Why?”
“Before 1975 people shorter than 5’7” couldn’t be FBI agents,” He responded plainly, but there was a bit of mischief in his eyes.
You looked at him curiously, warmth flooding your cheeks. You stammered something about being late and rushed to the roundtable room, taking your usual spot next to Luke, and watching what Garcia presented to you—pretending not to notice Spencer across the table from you.
The BAU had been asked to consult on a case, but there were no precincts that had asked the team to make a trip to them. You had finished the paperwork on a recently closed case and got up to bring it to Emily, stuffing the papers in a file folder, you turned around and ran into Spencer. “Sorry!” You squeaked out, dropping to the floor to pick up the papers. To your surprise, he crouched down next to you and helped to pick up the papers. “Oh, jeez, now they’re all out of order,” you moped, setting the papers back down on your desk.
“It was my fault,” Spencer said. The honesty in his voice made your shoulders slouch.
Shaking your head, you smiled at him, “It’s okay, Spencer. They’re just papers.”
He looked at you like there was something more he wanted to say, but he didn’t, he just turned from your desk and walked out of the bullpen, leaving you staring.
When you finally brought your papers to Emily, she asked you to close the door behind you. Patiently, you stood in her office while she added your file to the menacing pile she kept on her desk. “I’ve been meaning to ask how you’re doing. With the BAU, I mean,” she told you, leaning over her desk.
“Good, I think. I’ve gotten very few complaints so far,” you told her, unable to help the uneasiness you felt. Had someone said something?
Emily nodded, her dark hair shining with the movement, “Good, I haven’t heard anything negative about you at all. Which is actually uncommon for the BAU.”
You let the rest of the day pass, but as the team trickled out of the bullpen, only you, Emily, and Spencer were left.
At the sound of rustling, you looked over to see that Spencer was packing up his things and putting them into his familiar leather bag. Resting your cheek on your hand, you went back to your case file, marking thoughts in the margins.
Jumping when something hit your desk, making the metal rattle, you dropped your pen on the ground. Peering up to see Spencer giving you a lopsided smile before he bent down to pick up your pen, “Hey, at least you didn’t drop a bunch of papers again.”
You flushed as your eyes followed him out the glass doors of the BAU, turning around to see Emily watching on, leaning on the railing outside her office, looking between you and Spencer as if she knew something you didn’t.
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demonicbaby666 · 9 months
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Babe. Please teacher/student Emily and fem reader. I beg of you. Smut galore!!!
Professor P
One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists
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Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader
Genre: Smut and fluff
Words: 4k+
Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, fingering and oral (r!receiving), semi-public sex (lecture hall), teacher/student, a little sprinkle of praise, swearing
Summary: Professor Prentiss has been coming to deliver weekly lectures at your university. You’ve mainly kept to the back and been weary of getting in her bad books. When you turn up late to class one day, things take an interesting turn, and you find the dynamics between the two of you drastically change.
A/n: i cannot find the gif I want, so we are going with a new layout. I scavenged everywhere for footage to make one and found fuckall :(
You're late. It's only five minutes, but that doesn't matter. Emily Prentiss does not appreciate tardiness, which is why your pulse is racing and your feet are rapidly slamming against the varnished floor.
When you reach the daunting lecture hall door, the handle mocks you with its screeching, causing you to grit your teeth. Great. Heads turn to the back of the room and watch as you clamber to find a seat, and no matter how hard you try not to look, you can feel Emily's pointed glare burning a hole straight through you.
The hall is relatively big. Sounds transpire effortlessly. It benefits whoever takes the class, their voice seamlessly carrying to the back. It offers no such advantage for the odd student who comes in late because the same principles apply. No matter how hard you try to keep quiet, the silence in the room does nothing to mask the ruffling of papers and pens.
"Thanks for joining us," Emily calls out once you settle, forcing you to meet her eyes.
You know better than to challenge her, so you grimace and mutter your barely audible apology.
"See me after class." she says, and murmurs scatter across the dotted ocean of students, "Let's continue."
It's torture. With each passing minute, your palms grow clammy, your knee shaky, and your breath heavy. Emily's picking on you more than anyone else, and though you know the answers, getting them right doesn't alleviate your nerves. She does offer a smile when you prove your lateness is by no means an accurate reflection of your intelligence. However, it's not a proud, candid smile that does little to calm you, simply because the browns of her eyes are tinted with something hungry and predatory that sends shivers through your body.
Time passes, and you continue to blossom into a colossal mess. Students dart out whilst you gather your things and nervously await your fate. On your way down the broad steps of the auditorium, fellow peers you've spoken to in passing offer their sorry attempts at comfort by leaving taps on your shoulders. It feels more like you're being sent off to the front lines rather than having a reprimand from your professor.
When you approach her desk, Emily's fingers tap away at her keyboard. Aside from a brief upward glance, she barely acknowledges your presence, and then she's back to typing, leaving you with nothing else to do - other than awkwardly fiddle with your fingers and wait.
What feels like an eternity later, Emily finally stops typing and turns the computer off. Though she may have still sat down, giving you the advantage of being on the higher ground, her piercing stare leads you to believe she most definitely is at no disadvantage and is solemnly aware she garners all your attention.
"What's the excuse?" she asks, looking you up and down.
"Excuse?" you nervously question.
"Yes, excuse," She rolls her eyes, stands up, then walks around the desk. Standing tall and remaining a few steps away, she continues, "Why were you late?"
Ice runs cold through your veins, and your mouth feels drier than the desert. You swallow the dry lump in your throat, "Library," you manage to choke out, "I lost track of time."
The answer doesn't seem to amuse her, and she rolls her eyes as she pulls up the left sleeve of her blouse. A silence bathes you both, though it seems only to take hold of you. Emily is too busy fiddling with her watch to notice or care.
It glints in the light when she steps forward, throwing your body into fight or flight, or the lesser of both, freeze. You stand stark still despite everything in your body telling you to back away.
"Hold out your wrist," she instructs, taking off her watch. You do as told and watch in astonishment as the leather straps clasp around your wrist. Emily's face remains unreadable until her eyes move from your wrist to your face, and you pick up on the slight curve of her lips and something unfamiliar in her eyes that almost resembles amusement, "Don't be late again."
Words aren't coming to you nearly as quickly as they should, and the hint of amusement that dances in Emily's eyes intensifies. Then, she grabs her things like nothing unusual has occurred and steps forward, whispering in your ear, "Next time, I won't be so nice."
A shiver runs down your spine, and before you can turn around, Emily's already out the door.
"What the hell just happened?" you ask the empty room, staring down at the watch on your wrist.
A week passes before you see Emily again, and in that time, there isn't a day that goes by when you don't wear that watch. The habit of looking down and smiling at it creeps up on you. Often, you look around to see if anyone else has noticed, then pull your sleeve over it as though it needs to be kept a secret.
Maybe you want to keep in on the down low because the thought of having anyone else know would tarnish what seems to be, or you hope to be a treasured memory shared between you and Emily, or maybe it is something else entirely. All you know is that you want the exchange to remain between the two people who were present for it. Thankfully, it does.
The leather straps of the watch itself have lightened ever so slightly with time, and a bubbling sense of warmth comes in late nights of your dorm room, looking at it and thinking of who it belonged to and how long it had adorned their wrist. You trace your fingers over the metal frame of the clockface and toy with buttons, all the while relishing in the hints of perfume that appear hellbent on remaining ever-present.
As the week drags on, you find yourself more excited than you've ever been for Emily's class. You're one of the first few to show up.
Though you usually favour the back few rows, the thoughts from the past week have you walking down more steps than you're accustomed to. Being at the front is far too much of a statement, you tell yourself. You settle for the middle.
With a clear view and no heads in your line of sight, you watch Emily stand by the computer and set up the necessary slides whilst she likely waits for the room to fill up. The side exit door is open, letting in a cool summer breeze that ruffles sitting papers on the brunette's desk—the touseling sound of crisp paper dances across the room.
The gusts of wind sweeping in aren't entirely strong, but they're blowing wisps of Emily's hair into her face. So much so she reaches a hand to brush them away and hypnotically tucks the loose strands behind her ear.
One of the first things you'd noticed about Emily, or rather, hadn't, was her fringe. Unlike in pictures you'd seen of her online, she now wears her hair down, parted in the middle with feathered layers subtly framing her face. It suits her. Then again, anything would.
Her attention falters, and she tears herself away from the screen to glimpse over the room. Eyes jadedly pass by you, then dart back and raptly take you in. Emily's gaze falls to your wrist. Her lips curve into a satisfied smirk, and there's no stopping the tension in your stomach that twists and coils in looping knots. Butterflies swim through the remains of cold brew coffee - that should be thanked for you getting to class so early - and the heat from the unforgiving sun feels like it's waited to peek through the window until this very moment to cast warm rays of light on your already flushed face.
Emily meets your eyes briefly. You mirror her smirk despite the nerves setting your body on fire and wait till she resumes scanning the room before shakily pulling out your notebook and pen.
It's not until she's looking back at her computer that you dare to look at her again. Your eyes traipse lower to her blouse. The light grey - if not off-white - colour of it is brought out by the occupying white blazer Emily has now flung over her chair. She's wearing black suit trousers, secured low on her waist by a simple belt, yet, with the buckle placement being off-centre, it becomes the heart of her outfit.
The last couple of students come in, dangerously close to being late, but no one else enters once the short clock hand takes its place next to the number nine. Emily moves to stand before the large white projection screen and begins speaking. Her hands move in time with what she's saying, gesturing to what's being displayed. Clasping together now and then.
You've always paid attention to how she carries herself, though now, you were really noticing it. Her walk, her posture, the way she needn't ask for silence or for anyone to focus because she simply demands it in the way she speaks. It's enticing. She's enticing, pulling you in like a helpless fish to bait. Everything becomes background noise from then on, and all you know is Professor P.
Words bellow through the room, and you try to focus on what's being said. It's not that you don't hear; it's that this lecture doesn't register as being nearly as crucial as Emily's newly popped button - revealing a whole new ocean of skin your eyes aren't quite sure they should be allowed to see. It takes dragging your eyes to the blank lined paper on your desk to find the will to breathe normally again.
Minutes pass. You don't dare pry your eyes away from the utter mess of words littered before you. Not being able to pick on anything being said coherently means going through the slides later, but it can't be helped. Every time you glance at the front of the room, you're entranced and sure that drool may be slipping from the sides of your lips. Somehow, Emily's loose shirt has managed to cling to her in all the right places, and you can't advert your eyes from her chest.
She clears her throat, and you break away from gawking at her breasts to see she's looking directly at you, trying not to smile. Thankfully, she moves on without drawing any unwanted attention from other students your way, but the damage has already been done. Your cheeks burn under the unbearable heat of the blaring sun and pure and utter humiliation.
For the remainder of the lecture, you keep your eyes glued to your desk. Thoughts racing, heart pounding, you think of how best to sneakily pack your things before Emily is finished so that you can flee the scene of the crime as fast as humanly possible.
That decision, unfortunately, is taken away from you when Emily makes her closing statement, "Come and collect your marked papers, and then you're free to go."
After tripping over flights of stairs rushing to be first, you end up fifth in the queue, straining to watch Emily search through a hefty pile to locate the corresponding paper to the student next in line. It moves quickly, and soon enough, you're face-to-face with the professor. Staring into her cedar eyes, you wonder why she's almost to the bottom of the papers and still hasn't found yours.
"Wait to the side, and I'll look in my bag once I've handed out the rest," Emily says, gesturing to the space beside her. So much for getting out as fast as you can.
There's not much for you to do but watch Emily delicately continue handing out papers. At times, she'll bring a finger to her lips and briefly run her tongue along it. Every morsel of your body lights up at the sight, and there is a need to discover what else that tongue could do. How fast can it move? How deep can it go? Would it delve in or torture you with teasing flicks until you're shaking with want?
The last student is given their paper, and you and Emily watch them leave. It's a hopeful thought to think that you're waiting because Emily wants to have you all to herself, and if that is indeed what she wants, you have no qualms.
The brunette leans down to grab her bag, making it incredibly hard not to notice the generous amount of cleavage on offer and the beginning of what looked to be a navy blue bralette, "You seemed less focussed today," she mindlessly says, looking through the contents of her bag.
Still flustered from the view, you shake yourself out of it and search your sluggish mind for a reasonable excuse that doesn't remotely sound anything like, 'Sorry, I was busy checking you out.'
"Sorry, I got a little distracted." It's not a lie. That does little to settle your nerves and level the uneasiness of guilt settling in your stomach.
Pulling out a sheet of paper, Emily places it on her desk and steps forward. The space between her desk and the wall is slim, so when you take the necessary action to keep your body at a distance, you feel the solidity of plaster against your shoulder blades.
In an effort to disguise your growing anxieties, you relax your back against the wall and push your hips out to place your sweaty hands against cooling white paint. Resting the straining muscles in your jaw, you hope to convince the profiler that this interaction does not affect you in the slightest despite it doing precisely that.
Emily studies your pose, and it appears for a few seconds she may have bought the whole, 'I'm waiting against the wall like any other normal student would' until she, once again, places one foot in front of the other and stands a hand's width away.
"What were you paying attention to then?" she asks, her tone unmistakably changing. It's raspy and playful, filled with the prowess of an experienced sweet talker.
She reaches out and lightly skims a finger down the outside of your arm, looking expectantly into your eyes for an answer.
Breathing has suddenly become incredibly hard. Electrical currents are running up and along the length of your arms, and they're ebbing their way across your chest, down your stomach to wake up an aching between your legs. There's no doubt what she's doing is passing the appropriate boundaries, but you can't deny the fact you want to entertain it.
"You." It was meant to come out confident. Instead, the word is whispered and almost cut short by your bottom lip slapping up to meet its counterpart.
The brunette's lips curve into a devilish smile, and she steps forward, resting one hand on the wall next to your head, "Interesting. And what about me were you paying attention to?"
"Emily," you whisper. It's unclear what you're hoping to achieve with her name tumbling out of your mouth in a manner that resembles both a beg and a warning. A faint tremor echoes through your body, and a surge of fear penetrates your mind, screaming that this could all be a wild dream within your psyche's hidden depth.
The professor's left-hand rests on your cheek; she bends her left elbow to draw her face nearer yours, and you see the eye of the storm in view.
Trudging through the muck of thoughts, you stand in the clearing. It greets you with visions that you've long since yearned for. Bodies tangled together, hands clawing along a muscled back, dark hair sprawled over exposed creamy skin dotted with botches the colour of wine.
"Please," you close your eyes and send your plea into the slither of space between you, a slither that feels more like a vast ocean. The need to know if this is real has you asking for one thing, "Kiss me."
The words linger, and weeds of doubt sprout. A pair of soft lips grab them from the root and plunge them from the earth with a kiss and firm hands now moving down to wrap around the small of your waist.
You part your lips and allow your hands to find their new anchor. They loop around Emily's neck and pull her in, and she, in turn, deepens the kiss, reaching out with her tongue to seek passage into your mouth.
Complying almost immediately, your tongues meet in a brief battle of dominance, where you quickly and selfishly decide it's best to surrender. Both of you are happy to let Emily take the lead.
Moans echo over the rows of seats, hands wander frantically under layers of clothing, and soon enough, Emily has you turned around and pressed against her desk. The shirt she's wearing has been fully unbuttoned, revealing a canvas of skin ready to be devoured: milky shoulders, sharp collarbones, full breasts, nipples straining underneath a cage of lace, and the soft outline of muscles running along her stomach down to the beginnings of her trousers.
"Up," Emily growls.
Taking it upon herself to carry through her order, she holds the backs of your thighs and props you atop her desk.
She wedges herself between your spread legs, pushing her taut stomach directly over your clothed cunt. The wetness of your underwear presses against your clit, and the realisation that no one had ever gotten you this wet from merely kissing and touching dawns on you. It makes you want her more if that's even possible.
Reaching out, you take her breasts into your hands, kneading them in your palms, then push the offending material away to give direct attention to her hardened nipples. One, you take between your lips, sucking intently, the other between your thumb and index finger, pinching and twisting it. When you switch sides, Emily lets out a crackled groan and threads her fingers into your hair. Your thumb brushes over her wet nipple, pressing it lightly into her breast. You circle her tit carefully whilst mirroring the same action with your tongue.
"Fuck. That mouth," Emily moans, the cords in her neck straining as she throws her head back in pure bliss.
Once satisfied, the brunette pulls you up into a needy kiss, desperate to show her gratitude. It doesn't last long, and soon, her mouth strays along the sharp edge of your jaw, down to your neck. Her fingers skim down your shoulder, chest and stomach, down to the buttons of your trousers, where she swiftly undoes them and delves her hand in.
You grip her shoulders, leaving moon-crescent indentations into her perfect skin, and let out a spluttered gasp. Emily runs her fingers through your glistening sex, leaving you breathless, "I love how wet you are," she says into the curve of your neck.
Using the arousal gathered on her fingers, she lathers your clit, circling it with a teasing barely-there pressure. Meanwhile, her hand sneaks under your shirt to toy with your nipple.
"More," you whimper, rucking your eyebrows and jostling your hips, striving for pleasure that will break through the surface of small shocks and leave you elated.
In unison, she bites down over your thrumming pulse point and pushes her fingers knuckle deep into you. A guttural moan roars and bounces off the tall confines of the amphitheatre. As the pleasurable cry ricochets back to the small desk, Emily shows no signs of stopping, too stubborn to care or too proud to acknowledge the severity of what the sound could lead to.
The walls of your pussy clench around Emily's fingers, heightening the stretch and feel of them slipping in and out of you. The abundance of wetness allows for no friction, and the fluidity aids the brunette to pick up a faster pace.
"You're taking my finger so well," she praises, thrusting deeper and faster.
Your nails must feel like talons to her at this point, clawing and etching at her back. She makes no complaint, only latches her lips to yours and groans whilst she fucks you fervently.
"I'm going to come." You breathlessly announce.
She pulls out abruptly, and the built-up pressure dissipates into thin air, leaving you simultaneously star-struck and confused.
A protest forms but has no time to leave you because Emily pulls you into a fiery kiss. It's fast and uncontrollable, tongue darting around your mouth, teeth gnawing at your lips, until she finally breaks away to catch her breath.
"I want you to come in my mouth," she says with a ravenous grin that instantly has you nodding your approval.
"God, yes." You moan.
Emily's quick to loop her fingers through the waistband of your underwear and trousers, leaving you half naked on the desk as she places your legs over her shoulders and runs her tongue up your right thigh, leaving a shimming saliva trail.
With one clean swipe of her tongue, the professor licks the entire length of your slit and moans as the first taste of you hits her taste buds. Hungry for more, she stiffens the muscle and plunges it inside you, lapping your juices straight from the source.
If the possibility of screaming wouldn't get you caught, you would do so. For now, you settle on nestling your hands into silky brown hair whilst quietly chanting Emily's name, encouraging 'yes's' and anything else that would keep her from letting up.
The muscles in your abdomen tense almost painfully from holding your body upright. You lay back on the desk, not wanting the sensations flowing through your body to be dulled in any way. Relief floods through you, and your actions are rewarded with waves of pleasure, crashing over every fragment of your being.
The room fades away as you close your eyes and feel the professor's tongue curve inside you, running along the rough edges of your g-spot. Too afraid you'll draw blood with the continuous raking of nails through her scalp, you settle your hands above your head, wrapping your fingers over the edge of the wooden desk.
Faint voices of students walking past the doors muffle in your ears, mingling with the rushed thudding of your heartbeat. Thud, voices, thud, clambered footsteps, thud, the sound of your moan, thud, then Emily's thumbing your clit, and every sound fades to nothingness, and you stop breathing.
Tremors render you useless. Your hips are grinding erratically, Emily's tongue is pressed inside you, and your clit is twitching. Sparks linger in your vision as your eyes fly open and find lust-darkened orbs - pinning you down with their fervour and watching you fall over the edge of your orgasm.
Somehow, through the haze of your orgasm-muddled brain, you tear your hand from the desk and slap it over your mouth to silence a shrilling sob. Your chest burns. Your legs shake. And finally, you arch your back, going joint-breakingly rigid.
The older woman slows down and runs soothing circles over the sides of your thighs. Two small pecks are placed on your hip bones before Emily stands up, and you all but fling yourself upright to devour her lips in a desperate kiss. Your aroma and sharp tang linger on the tongue, sliding into your mouth and causing you to stifle a moan at the taste.
"That was amazing," you murmur over her lips.
"Mmmm," Emily hums agreeingly, breaking away and resting her head on your shoulder to catch her breath.
"I still get to keep the watch, right?" You playfully ask, though there is some room for reassurance, "I've grown quite attached."
Emily chuckles into your neck, and it's single-handedly the most beautiful thing you've ever heard. Her laugh penetrates your skin and worms its way directly into your heart.
"Yes, it's yours," she replies.
"And…"
"And?" She pulls back, looking confused.
"I don't need to worry about you handing out other watches to students, right?"
The brunette tentatively meets your lips again in a sweet kiss, stopping only for a second to whisper, "Not a chance."
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on-my-vigilante-sht · 11 months
Text
Sparring Matches
Aaron Hotchner x Reader
Summary: The BAU undergoes PT evaluations, that includes sparring matches. And in the ring will be the secret couple, tipping off the rest of the team.
Warnings: Canon level violence secret relationship, slight suggestive language
Word Count: 2.7k
Masterlist
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The BAU were all sat in the bullpen trying to get work done when their Unit Chief, and Y/N’s secret boyfriend, walked out of his office, overseeing his team. “I have some bad news,” he announced, catching everyone’s attention.
“Another case?” Rossi guessed, coming out of his own office.
“No, the new Section Chief wants us to perform physical evaluations.” That earned groans from Spencer and Garcia. Meanwhile Derek and Emily were already placing bets about how each other would perform in each activity.
“But we haven’t had to do physical training in years because of field hours!” Reid protested.
Internally Aaron chucked at the doctor’s childlike protest, reminding him of Jack when he didn’t want to do something. “I’m sorry but he’s insistent and won’t be allowing waivers for any of you… except Rossi as well as Garcia because she’s never in the field.”
“Whoo!” she cheered, earning another groan from Spencer.
“And due to a recent incident… we will also be evaluated in hand to hand combat.” Everyone on the team turned to look at Y/N.
“He snuck up on me!” she defended for the millionth time. “I still beat him.”
“Still got a broken rib out of it,” Derek informed tauntingly.
“You’re one to talk,” she scoffed. “You throw yourself through doors even if they’re unlocked.”
“Oh yeah? We’ll see who fairs better in the ring.”
Before Y/N could get another jab in her boyfriend spoke. “Seeing as we are one of the most hands on units the Section Leader wants us to compete with each other so he can get an idea of our capabilities and because we are the most evenly matched. Thank you,” he dismissed, promptly walking back into his office so he didn’t have to witness anymore bickering. As much as Aaron loved the team, especially Y/N, he didn’t enjoy their bickering for prolonged periods of time.
Later that night at home, Aaron and Y/N were discussing the upcoming PT tests. “Why does he want us to fight each other?” she asked, plating their dinners.
“He said that based on reports we end up in physical combat a little too often,” he answered, setting the table. “He said that if we struggle too much then he’ll make it mandatory for us to have SWAT more often and no one will be allowed to move in on an unsub without SWAT presence.”
“That’s absolutely ridiculous,” Y/N cried, carrying over the food. “Stupid bureaucrats thinking their ideas are god’s gift to the FBI without even being in the field within the past five years.”
Aaron chucked, taking his seat across from her. “Well an evaluation isn’t too bad of an idea considering…” his voice trailed off as both recalled the weeks Y/N spent lying in bed waiting for her rib to mend itself enough so she could walk.
Y/N blushed, always getting intensely embarrassed whenever anyone brought that up. “He was twice my size and snuck up on me. And then I still managed to pin him with a broken rib,” she pointed out.
“Yes you did,” Aaron agreed, admiring her scowl.
“So do you know who will be fighting who?”
“Yes, it’s a mix of someone you’re fairly evenly matched with and someone who’s very different. You and Prentiss will spar, as will JJ and Reid, then I’ll be against Morgan. As for the opposites I believe it will be Prentiss and Reid, JJ and Morgan, and then you and I?”
“You and I will spar?”
“Yes, don’t worry I won’t blindside you,” he chuckled.
“Oh I’m not worried about that,” she smirked coyly. “I’m a bit younger than you, a bit more spry if you will.”
“Well I don’t know that I can call you younger considering you just used the word ‘spry.’ Besides it’s not a competition.”
“Sure,” she hummed sarcastically.
That only egged on the normally cool Unit Chief. He put his utensils down, forgetting his meal before hardening his expression. The same look he gave the team when he needed them to stop behaving like children, causing Y/N to squirm. “I guarantee you I’ll have you pinned by the end of it. I’ve never had difficulty pinning you before.” Y/N choked on the sip of wine she was drinking at that comment. Before she could say anything her boyfriend was at her side with a napkin. “Be careful, Y/N,” he said slyly, bringing the napkin under her chin. She stared at him in disbelief at his ostentatiousness as he backed away, trailing the napkin across her skin with a smirk.
~
After a week of intense sexual tension it was sparring day. Everyone was stretching in the FBI wrestling room except for Spencer who looked like he’d pass out. “Don’t worry Spence, I’ll go easy on you tomorrow,” Emily smirked.
He looked dissatisfied but took it with a sarcastic “Thanks.”
JJ and Spencer were the first to get in the circle but as soon as the whistle blew and JJ started advancing at him he dropped to the ground. “I yield,” he pled, raising his hands.
“C’mon pretty boy, you gotta do better than that,” Derek called. But Reid was completely unwilling to fight if there was no real danger so JJ was declared the winner.
Next up were Y/N and Emily. “Be careful, Y/N. I’m kind of infamous for hand to hand combat,” Emily bragged.
“I was a marine for four years,” Y/N shrugged arrogantly.
“Whoo girl fight,” Derek jeered from the sidelines.
“Shut up, Derek,” both women called, not moving their gazes from each other.
Also from the sidelines Aaron was resisting the urge to tell Prentiss to go easy on Y/N. Not only would it infuriate Y/N, it would clue the team into their relationship. Hiding a relationship from profilers was difficult but so far Aaron felt that they had managed. As the whistle was blown, Aaron watched in mild horror, keeping his expression hardened, as his girlfriend fought another very highly trained FBI agent.
Derek and Reid came to their boss’ side. “My money’s on Prentiss, she’s stronger,” Derek bet.
Aaron stayed silent, worried he’d betray some sensitive information while being so focused on the fight. Fortunately for him, Reid chimed in with his analysis. “While Emily was a part of Interpol, a very specialized group of agents, Y/N’s younger and more agile. Her training in the marines, while not having as much focus on hand to hand combat, will help her and I’d argue makes her stronger than Emily considering the amount of carbo loading they do.”
Before Morgan could disagree Aaron watched as Y/N pinned Prentiss by literally sitting on her back and pulling Emily’s arm behind her back up in the air. When the whistle blew, declaring Y/N the winner she simply stood up, helped her teammate stand, and went to the bench for her water bottle without a word, not wanting to humiliate her teammate anymore.
Next it was Aaron and Derek stepping onto the mat. Y/N watched them with unwavering eyes, hoping her expression wasn’t too worried. Aaron was tough, he got into more than his fair share of scraps with unsubs and he was still strong and fit. But Derek was well… Derek. He practically lived at the gym when we weren’t on missions and had the most takedowns on the team, preferring to throw himself at the unsub rather than shoot.
Y/N forced herself to look away from the mat, turning her attention to JJ who was approaching. “This should be interesting,” she commented, observing the flurry of fists.
Y/N hummed in agreement, busying herself with the objects in her bag. “Yeah but Derek’s got him. Hotch is tough but Derek’s favorite pastime is taking down unsubs.” Looking up Y/N couldn’t help but cringe as Derek landed a punch on Aaron’s face but he took it like a champ, barely even flinching before pushing Derek back.
The match was long and bitter but it ended with Morgan pinning his boss to the mat. Both were exhausted with labored breaths as the whistle blew. The second it did, Derek moved off of Aaron, sitting at his side trying to catch his breath. Emily went over to Morgan, leaving Y/N the opportunity to go over to her boyfriend without making it too obvious.
“C’mon,” she said as casually as possible, helping him off the mat. Helping him over to the bench she brought him his water bottle, as did Emily for Morgan.
“We’ll continue onto the next portion tomorrow,” the ref informed us before taking his leave.
At Aaron’s house, Y/N was trying to treat his cuts and bruises as best she could. “Are you sure you’re up to sparring tomorrow?” she asked, placing an ice pack against his bruised jaw.
“I’m fine, just some superficial cuts and bruises,” he dismissed.
“Still that was pretty brutal, I could hardly watch.”
Aaron took the cold compress she had been using on him earlier, pressing it to her visibly bruised collarbone. “Was hard to watch you too,” he murmured, feeling a little embarrassed about being so sentimental and protective.
Y/N smiled softly, trying her best to hide it so her boyfriend wouldn’t get too embarrassed. “Let’s get you to bed,” she suggested, helping him up. “This is the longest we’ve gone without a case in a while. You should enjoy it.”
“By sleeping?”
“Yes, sleep is one of my favorite things.”
~
By the next morning Aaron’s face was mostly healed and it was time for the other sparring matches. First up: JJ and Morgan.
While JJ was far more agile and quicker than Derek, all it took was him getting a grip on her and she was pinned.
Next up were Reid and Prentiss. Spencer didn’t immediately collapse but after she swept his leg he never got back up.
And finally it was the two secret lovers. “Don’t worry, L/N, I won’t blindside you,” Aaron smirked just like he did when he first told her they’d be fighting. This was also the first instance of teasing the team had ever seen from their stoic boss.
“You couldn’t move fast enough,” Y/N sneered in return.
With the blow of the whistle both advanced, trying to gain the upper hand. As Aaron tried to grab Y/N she dropped down, kicking him in the legs. It wasn’t enough to knock him down though, only sending him stumbling a few steps. As Y/N was scrambling up, Aaron had already regained his footing. Approaching her again he grabbed her wrist giving him the opportunity to punch her in the face but he hesitated, not wanting to hit a woman much less the woman he loved. His hesitation gave her enough time to twist her arm from his grip. Taking the opportunity once again, she kicked at his legs, sending him sprawling on the ground. She then straddled his abdomen, smirking in victory. But Aaron wasn’t done yet, easily flipped her so now she laid on the mat with him straddling her hips. He watched in amusement as her eyes widened in shock and she tried to struggle free but it was no use seeing as Aaron was twice her size.
The whistle blew again bringing both back to the present. Keenly aware of the position they were in in front of the entire team, Aaron immediately scrambled up onto his feet. Reaching a friendly, professional hand down, he helped Y/N up. “Good match,” he said awkwardly before scurrying off to the bench where his water bottle sat.
Y/N took a second to catch her breath, trying to figure out what would be the least awkward and obvious next move. Fortunately for her, JJ was already bringing her her water bottle. “Thanks,” she wheezed.
“Yeah, how’re you feeling?” JJ sympathized, also just having taken a bit of a beating.
“Aside from having the wind knocked out of me? Fine. I’ll just need a few minutes,” Y/N coughed out.
On the other side of the gym Derek had the biggest grin on his face, very much enjoying teasing his boss. “That was quite the match. Interesting method of pinning L/N.”
Hotch was trying to quickly think of a way to dismiss Morgan without drawing too much attention to him and Y/N. So he just gave him the stern Unit Chief look that instantly shut everyone up. “That’s not appropriate,” was all he said before exiting towards the locker rooms, eager to be back in the safe authority of his suits.
On his way out it took most of his willpower not to think too much about the way he had his girlfriend pinned.
~
The sound of Aaron’s ringtone jolted the two FBI agents up. Aaron grabbed the phone from his nightstand, keeping an arm wrapped around Y/N as she pulled the sheets tighter, cuddling into his chest. She let out a soft groan at being woken up as Aaron answered it. “Hello?” he answered in his groggy morning voice. After a few seconds of muffled information from Garcia he spoke again. “Okay call the rest of the team. I’ll be right there.”
“Another case?” Y/N asked, not even thinking.
“Yeah, sounds like a serial killer in SoHo,” Aaron informed as he hung up. Realizing what just happened he cursed. “Shit.”
“What?” Y/N asked, still gaining her bearings.
“I hadn’t hung up yet.”
“Shit,” Y/N cursed as well. “Okay it’s fine, if anyone says anything you fell asleep on the couch with Jack.”
“Yeah, okay,” Aaron agreed beginning to get dressed in the dark.
Y/N’s phone then went off. “Hello?” she answered, already knowing who would be on the other line.
“Good news, we’re going to New York City, bad news there’s a serial killer,” Penelope announced.
“Okay, I’ll-”
“Ow!” Aaron deep yell and a crash cut Y/N off.
“Was that Hotch?” Penelope gasped in shock.
“No!” Y/N answered too quickly. “Uh no,” she tried to answer more nonchalantly, “it was a guy but definitely not Hotch.” She cringed at her words.
“Ooh details,” Garcia begged.
“Another time,” she promised. “I have to get dressed. See you in 15.” And with that she hung up. She groaned, throwing herself back onto the pillows. “They’re definitely going to figure it out. I don’t have my car and I live on the other side of town we won’t make it.”
“We’ll walk in a few minutes separated. We still have plausible deniability,” Aaron tried to soothe Y/N. “It’ll be fine.”
“You’re surprisingly calm about this,” she observed, getting up to find her clothes.
“Would it be such a bad thing if they found out?” he asked shyly.
“No,” she answered, “not the team. I worry about the Section Chief and others.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it if I have to,” Aaron promised, wrapping his girlfriend in his arms before pressing a kiss to her temple.
Once they pulled into one of the far parking lots, the couple scoped out the other cars as best they could from their seats. “I think we’re good,” Y/N informed. “Follow me in like 3 minutes later?”
Aaron nodded as Y/N opened her door but the second she opened the door, Derek’s car pulled up with Garcia in the passenger seat. “I knew that was Hotch’s voice!” she yelled.
The couple groaned. “Not a word to anyone outside the team, got it?” Y/N immediately demanded.
“Of course, of course,” Derek promised.
“When did you know?” Aaron asked.
“We all had our suspicions but we knew during your sparring match. You were way too comfortable sitting on top of each other. And then my lovely Ms. Garcia’s phone calls confirmed you spent the night together,” Derek smirked.
Meanwhile Garcia was already group calling Emily, Spencer, JJ, and Rossi. “Hotch and L/N confirmed,” she squealed.
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hotchs-big-hands · 10 months
Text
What did you call me?
Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|4.9k words
Aaron Hotchner x plus size fem!reader
NSFW Minors dni please
Warning(s): some angst, yearning, details about graphic crime scenes, strip clubs/sex clubs.
When Dom/sub couples begin to show up murdered mid-coital, the BAU team is brought in to solve the case. But as more couples are found and the unsub remains undetected, it becomes an undercover mission. The posing Dom/sub couple in question? Your intimidating, attractive boss and you.
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Hey everyone, welcome to my first fanfic! I used to write and post stuff back in 2018ish but it was a different fandom. I've not written and posted anything tho since then so I'm a bit nervous! But idk I just got back into cm recently and I saw Hotch and my brain was like oh yeah 👁️👁️ (I used to be a Spencer girlie) and I've mostly written stuff for myself but I decided imma start doing stuff on here too! I hope you enjoy and lemme know if you wanna be tagged in future writings 🥰 side note, I'm a fat gal so I will probably centre most of my stuff around plus size readers cuz there's not enough of it for plus size Hotch girlies 😔 but technically anyone can read and enjoy it! This was getting extremely long so I'm splitting it into three parts so here's the first one! Anyway, enjoy 💅
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The feeling of something blunt lightly bounced against your forehead, making you blink a few times and rub the area with your hand.
"Hey... Who did that?" You grumbled, eyes darting from one face of your coworkers to the next. Three of them all pointed towards the culprit and as your eyes drifted back to him you were met with a cheeky grin on the charming, dark-skinned man's face.
"You were spaced out, sugar." Derek Morgan said. "Got a lot on your mind?"
"Got a lot of him on her mind, more like." A voice cut in smugly, flustering you in an instant, your heart beginning to race. Your eyes flicked to Prentiss, the pristine raven haired woman was smirking at you, her eyes glinting. You squeaked and shifted in your office chair nervously.
"No, Em! Just... couldn't sleep last night."
The weak explanation didn't help, it only widened the smirk on Prentiss' face as she leaned forward.
"Oh? Do tell us more."
"There's nothing to say!" You abruptly turned to the casefile that lay open on your slightly messy desk and tried to ignore the movement at the corner of your eye; Emily was shuffling her chair over to you, no doubt still with that annoying smirk on her face.
"Oh it sure sounds like there is though."
Before you had the chance to defend yourself an all too familiar voice demanded everyone's attention and subsequently caused a shiver to trickle down your spine. Your hands gripped onto your chair.
"My team; in the conference room now. We have a case." Your unit chief spoke. All heads turned to the direction of a slightly elevated walkway where a sharply dressed man stood for a mere moment, locking eyes with yours, before he began walking briskly towards the mentioned conference room.
Fuck. Hotch was wearing your favourite suit and tie today and a few stray wisps of his short, dark hair stubbornly lay over his forehead, no matter how often he must have tried to push them up off his face. Everyday was harder than the previous working with that man. The moment you'd attended your interview months ago, sitting in front of the brooding man, you knew you were fucked. Yes, you had been eager to join the famed BAU unit and were grateful for the opportunity that arose but you'd be lying if another reason you eagerly answered all the questions prompted to you in that interview wasn't because you were instantly attracted to Aaron Hotchner. However, that was almost a year ago now and you were struggling with your growing attraction to the man the more you were around him. Your coworkers and friends certainly were no help, given they'd soon caught onto your crush.
A hand waved in front of your face and you blinked.
"Time to go, lovergirl." Prentiss teased and you sighed, quickly joining the others as they made their way to the case briefing. You needed to focus.
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Landing in Chicago a few hours later, the team were thrust into a gnarly investigation involving couples being murdered in their hotel rooms mid-coital. The crime scene photos were hard to look at, to say the least. Setting up a base of operations in the police department didn't take too long and currently you were in the midst of interviewing family members of the deceased along with Hotch at his insistence. It wasn't often that you took part in these interviews, even less often did Hotch ever team you up with him. Quite frankly, it made you feel a little nervous, but there was no way you'd question his decision. And certainly, you did not miss the subtle smug look Emily gave you as you trailed after the man you thought about way too much.
Sitting beside him in the SUV, just the two of you alone made your head feel a little bit floaty as you tried your best to remain as stoic as possible, reminding yourself of the details of the case so far and of the little bits of information from the families you'd spoken to. Even with the effort there was no preventing the permeating scent of his cologne and a hint of his own natural musk from scrambling your brain. He smelled good, too good, and the way his hands gripped the steering wheel from the quick glances you dared peek developed a heat to coil within the depths of your lower abdomen.
"Are you alright?" His voice brought you out of your thoughts. You felt flushed.
"H-huh?" You felt dumbstruck, all because of him. He exhaled through his nose sharply, clearly dissatisfied with your response.
"You're distracted."
Oh. Of course he could pick up on it. You shifted in your seat, subtly rubbing your plump thighs together.
"I'm okay, I guess I've not had enough to drink today though. I'll get some water when we head back to the station." Not a lie, technically. You'd forgotten your bottle of water you normally had ready to fill up to take on cases. Hotch hummed, the sound deep and making you clench between your thighs.
"I did notice you didn't have your water like you usually do. I should have said something." He said. Wait, he noticed? You didn't think he picked up on things about you, he didn't often appear to pay attention to you besides on a strictly professional level. But as you turned your head to him in surprise his brows were furrowed in frustration, as though annoyed with himself for not saying anything.
"Oh no, it's fine. I've been a bit of a scatterbrain as of late." You admitted sheepishly, a little smile on your lips. Hotch glanced at you, eyes flicking down to your lips, then back to your eyes, making your breath hitch.
"Anything I can do to help?"
You bit your lip, your mind flooded with a whole array of thoughts that you knew you shouldn't be having about your boss. He didn't know he was the reason you were so distracted, desperate to feel his lips on yours, on your body and his hands on your skin, his fingers inside you. Fuck. You needed to get it together, for goodness' sake. You quickly glanced back towards the road.
"Ah, no. I'm okay, sir. I'll sort myself out." You murmured, missing the way his knuckles whitened under the pressure of his grip on the wheel.
"Don't hesitate to come to me if you need anything."
You tried not to think of what you wanted him to do to you, instead humming in response.
"Thank you, sir."
You needed to get out of this damn car as soon as possible.
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Immediately upon returning to the station you rushed off to find a vending machine so you could grab a bottle of water. As soon as you had your hands on the cold, plastic bottle you were gulping down the cool liquid, not realising just how flushed you felt.
"Whoa, slow down there, (L/n)!" You heard JJ's voice from behind you and you turned, pulling the bottle from your mouth wide-eyed. The blonde woman looked slightly alarmed. "Are you okay?"
You nodded.
"Yeah, yeah. I just forgot to bring water so I kinda got a bit dehydrated I think." You explain quickly. JJ frowned a little.
"You'd better be careful next time. And don't drink too quickly, you could accidentally choke."
You smiled sheepishly under her scolding and screwed the lid back on.
"Sorry, I'll drink slower."
JJ led you back to the office where you found the familiar sight of Spencer pouring over a map of the area. Pieces of string had been wrapped around pins indicating the last locations victims were seen and the scenes of their murders, no clear pattern in sight as there sometimes was. On one of the tables lay several empty paper coffee cups, a few rings of spilled coffee staining the surface top. He was speaking quietly to another member of the team, David Rossi, and Hotch; of whom stood beside the young Doctor with his arms folded across his chest, inevitably tightening the suit over his physique. You forced yourself to focus on the map.
Not long after your arrival you heard two sets of footsteps trudge into the room.
"No employees or frequent customers that are of note. We have nothing." Derek huffed as he made his way over to one of the chairs and slumped down into it. Emily joined you and JJ, her face appeared neutral but you could tell there was a hint of annoyance behind it. You heaved a deep sigh and felt eyes on you which made you instinctively seek out who it was, only to be startled when your eyes met deep brown ones, almost black in the artificial lighting. Hotch didn't look away, instead holding your gaze until you quickly turned away, feeling embarrassed.
"There has to be something that connects them all." Rossi said. Your eyes drifted across the map, narrowing a little. There had to be a mutual place that all these couples had been to in the final week leading up to their deaths. Somewhere that couples who enjoy sexual relations more than the average couple would go. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and quickly scrolled through your contacts until you found the one you were looking for. As you pressed dial you put the call on loudspeaker it merely rang once before there was an answer.
"Hello, you've reached the hotline for the simply fantabulous Penelope Garcia; how may I assist you?" A bubbly voice filtered through. All eyes were on the phone as you placed it on the table in front of you.
"Hiya, babe, I have a request for you. We're trying to find a link between the couples but so far nothing has cropped up. But I have a theory," you spoke, feeling a little awkward at what you were about to say. "Uhm, do you think you could try search for any strip clubs or even straight up sex clubs in the area? Easily accessible or possibly a more hidden club?"
You could feel his eyes on you again but you tried hard to stare at the phone. Garcia gasped from the other end of the line, but the sound of nails on a keyboard reassured you she was already on the case. Beside you, you felt Emily poke you and you lightly shoved her with your wide hip.
"Oh wow, I did not think I would be looking at this sort of thing today. But lucky you, I have a whole list of places! I-" there was clicking, followed by another gasp. "Oh my! That is certainly a homepage! You have no idea about the things I'm seeing right now, well, I mean I'll be sending these to you anyway but gosh! I'm going to do a thorough clean of my history once this case-"
"-Garcia, focus." Hotch said firmly and you heard a quick apology from the other end of the line. He moved to lean over the table, propping himself up with his hands as he took charge of the phone call. "We need security footage from these locations. Whatever you can give us, we'll take it."
More clacking of nails, you tried not to stare at your boss as he leered over your phone, forcing yourself to look away from his straining suit, the dangling tie, his large hands. Horrifically, you instead met eyes with the oldest of the group, Rossi, who had clearly caught you ogling Hotch from the glint in his experienced eyes and the twitch at the corner of his mouth. Shit. You could only hope no one else had witnessed your blatancy. Thankfully, Garcia's voice came through again.
"I'm sending over whatever footage I can find as well as the addresses to the establishments now."
You reached across the table, hyper aware of how close you were to Hotch as you took hold of your phone. He studied you carefully when you hurried backwards, swallowing thickly. You cleared your throat.
"Thanks, babe, you're a star." You said.
"Well of course, I'm your star." Garcia responded cheerily and the line went dead. Hotch straightened up and pulled his suit back into place, turning to address everyone.
"We need to review the footage and find out which location all the victims visited at some point within the last few weeks, then we can make a plan of action." He was stern as he spoke, hands in his pockets and his shoulders squared. There was a mutual noise of agreement from everyone and you all split into smaller groups around the monitors in the room. Hotch disappeared off to find the chief of police and you couldn't help but let your eyes follow him as he rushed out of the room, eyes transfixed on the tight fabric of his dress pants.
"Girl, you aren't even hiding it." You heard Derek say and you huffed, walking over to Spencer and sitting down next to him. He offered you an awkward smile and shuffled his chair to the side so you could get closer to the computer he was working on.
"Shut up, Derek." You muttered and he chuckled.
"I'm just saying, you should probably talk to him."
Your eyes widened in horror.
"Excuse me?"
Spencer cleared his throat.
"I agree, It's a bit obvious that he's interested in you too." He said softly and you huffed, shuffling your chair closer to the table and leaning towards the computer screen.
"Stop saying ridiculous things like that, both of you. We have work to do anyway."
Derek stepped back with his hands raised in surrender before retreating back to the computer he was situated at whilst Spencer simply watched you carefully, frowning a little.
It was dangerous for you to even dare think of such things. There were so many reasons why you couldn't let your mind go there. If not for the ethical reason due to his and your job statuses, then maybe because he was much older than you with a son. But also you'd seen photos of his ex-wife and ex-girlfriend and you certainly didn't look like his type. Not slender, not sleek like they were. You didn't think he was a shallow man but you'd also dealt with disappointment after disappointment with how others had treated you based on your appearance. You had to keep yourself safe, so your attraction for your boss would remain nothing more than a secret from him. You sighed softly as the young man beside you clicked on the first video footage from one of the private sex clubs. There was no more time to waste.
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The following few hours were downright miserable, viewing video, after video of footage from various clubs until you felt as though your eyes and your brain would melt out of your head. Finally, however, Emily made a noise of alarm, mouth full of cheap coffee, and alerted everyone to her computer. Swallowing the burning, bitter liquid, she retracted the footage a little and replayed it.
"Look, It's the Smiths! The first couple to be murdered. They came in to this very exclusive private sex club at the end of last month." She said hurriedly. In the slightly fuzzy camera quality indeed the couple waltzed into the lobby of the facility and approached the reception desk.
"Fast forward the feed." You heard Hotch say, causing goosebumps to bristle across your skin. You knew he had returned at some point but didn't expect him to stand right beside you. Someone made a call to Garcia and she confirmed with her database that it was indeed the couple. Further analysis of the footage from days afterwards showed that every single of the other couples had also been to this sex club too shortly before they were murdered. And yet they had no indication still of who was the murderer.
The day was drawing in at this point but as a final task before anyone would return to the hotel, Hotch sent out Morgan and Prentiss to the club to ask some questions, something that you couldn't help but chuckle at. The raven haired woman narrowed her eyes slightly at you.
"Laugh all you want but I'd be careful if I were you." She warned but you simply smirked.
"Don't have too much fun now, you two." You said cheerily, Morgan raised a brow at you and then the two were off begrudgingly. You felt JJ sidle up beside you.
"You know she will get you back." She murmured and you shrugged.
"She doesn't scare me."
"She scares me a little." Spencer said aloud, causing the two of you to turn your heads in his direction. He flushed, ducking his head slightly. "I- uh, well you know how she is."
"I wouldn't think you were intimidated by her, Spence, I mean you're the one who won the prank war with Morgan." JJ said, chuckling. A small smile tugged at his mouth.
"I wouldn't cross Emily, though."
You hummed and pushed up out of your chair.
"Well anyway, either of you want a hot drink?" You offered. JJ smiled.
"Oh no, thank you." As Spencer opened his mouth to respond she lifted a finger up at him. "Ah- you definitely don't need anymore coffee at this time of day."
A quiet giggle passed your lips and you turned to head to the kitchenette of the station.
"I'm not getting involved."
Walking out of the office you crossed the police department, avoiding any officers who still remained within the building, and came to a pause in the entryway of the kitchen, dipping away from the doorway out of sight. The two oldest members of the team were in a deep conversation, Hotch with his back to the door and Rossi facing the direction you were in. They spoke quietly, you knew you shouldn't listen in and yet you couldn't help it.
"Stop being absurd. What makes you think I'd even consider doing that?" Hotch hissed, his voice barely audible from where you were.
"Come on, Aaron, you can't keep this going forever. You know that." Rossi countered. There were more words said but were too quiet for you to decipher. That was until Hotch spoke a little louder again, sounding more frustrated.
"I am not currently wishing to be involved with anyone like that, Dave. I just can't."
In an instant you felt your heart in your throat, your eyes stinging.
Oh.
You felt stupid. Of course he wasn't interested in dating anyone. Even despite closely guarding your feelings for Hotch to be nothing further than a personal crush that he would never find out about it still hurt knowing you never had a chance to begin with.
Walking a few steps away from the kitchen, you made a point of entering the kitchen area, feigning surprise as your eyes landed on the two men in the room. Clearly, your entrance startled them, particularly him, who looked a little guilty before the slight expression glossed over with stern stoicism. Hotch glanced away, turning to Rossi.
"I'll see you at the hotel." He muttered and then he was brushing past you, his hand grazing your arm slightly and his scent consuming your senses. And then he was gone, all that remained was the slight coolness of his absence. You swallowed thickly but tried to mask your emotions from the seasoned agent still remaining.
"Coffee? There's some left still, maybe enough for one last cup." Rossi said softly. You smiled slightly as you approached him but shook your head.
"Ah no, thank you. I'm going to have tea. It's way too late for coffee, don't you think?"
The man hummed, watching you carefully. You suspected he had seen you earlier, that you'd heard the conversation but you didn't feel like talking about it.
"I hope you know that if you ever need someone to lend an ear that I'm always willing to listen."
Your hands faltered slightly during sorting out putting a tea bag in a clean mug. Your eyes flicked to the side at Rossi briefly.
"I know that."
"I know you heard what you think you heard but-"
"-Let's not- We aren't talking about this." You cut him off shakily, stopping yourself before you poured the hot water into the mug. "There's nothing to say about it."
You turned away from the kitchen counter to lean against it, rubbing your tired eyes with your palms. Rossi sighed quietly.
"You didn't catch the whole conversation." He tried after a moment. You scoffed.
"It wasn't for me to hear. I only did so by accident. I'm not going to read into it because the only people who were meant to hear what was discussed was you and-" Your throat felt tighter still, an unseen coil constricting you, just as the man you longed for constricted your heart and soul. You didn't say his name, couldn't. Mercifully, the man before you understood.
"I know."
You nodded. The mug of tea wasn't appealing anymore; the quiet promise of solitude in a hotel room called to you more than all else.
"I.... I think I need to call it a night. I don't feel well."
Rossi placed a hand on your upper arm and squeezed lightly.
"I'll inform the others and grab your stuff then I'll drive you to the hotel we're staying in," he fished out the keys to one of the SUVs and handed them to you, the metal clinking together. "Go, wait in the car for me." He said. The corners of your mouth tilted upwards in appreciation and you hurried out, eager to have even a moment to yourself.
The moment you pushed the doors of the building open and stepped outside you exhaled, grimacing slightly at the still, warm air of the night. You'd hoped it would have cooled down more, now that the sun had long since settled behind the horizon, but you felt stifled, the heat doing nothing to soothe the tightness in your throat and chest. Breathing shakily, you unlocked the car and climbed into the passenger seat, laying your head back against the head rest.
There was no reason for you to feel so upset about this. It wasn't as though you intended on ever approaching your boss about your ever growing feelings for him, you wouldn't dare do that. And yet you felt almost physically sick from heartbreak and the worst part was he didn't even know the pain you were in. Hell, you didn't even know where he was right now after he rushed out of the kitchen.
You knew the moment Rossi obviously had retrieved your belongings judging the way your phone had begun to vibrate from text notifications, no doubt from your coworkers. You'd answer them when you made it to the hotel, you decided. A few minutes later you spotted the older man exit the station and approach the car you were in, your bag and coat in hand. The sight made you smile even the tiniest bit, something that he noticed. You felt the car jolt a little as he opened the trunk so he could put your belongings down and jolt again when he slammed it lightly. A second later he was climbing in on the driver's side where you held out the car keys to him.
"Thanks." He took the keys and inserted them into the ignition, the engine roaring to life and you slipped your seatbelt on. Rossi glanced at you. "Let's get you to the hotel. Best thing about this is if there aren't enough rooms for one each you can have first pick on if you want the single or not." He said as you pulled out the station parking lot. You scoffed.
"Oh you know I'm absolutely taking the single this time." You retorted. In any other scenario you would have risked sharing a room, risk being paired with him. Now the thought made you want to cry. Your little smile faded and you turned your head to the window, resting on the cool glass. Sensing you were finished talking, Rossi didn't say anything else for the remainder of the drive.
🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑
A little groan escaped your lips when you collapsed backwards on the single bed in your hotel room, exhaustion overrunning your very being from the long day. For a moment you simply lay there silently, staring at the dulled white ceiling whilst your mind raced. You knew this wasn't ideal, you couldn't let yourself be distracted from the case.
Huffing, you remembered that you needed to respond to messages to let the others know you would be alright by the morning. After pulling your phone out of your pocket, the screen lit up and your eyes flicked across the notifications on the lock screen. Lots of messages from your worried coworkers. You unlocked the phone and set about answering them one-by-one. JJ and Emily offered to stop by your hotel room to check in on you, not knowing you'd been feeling unwell up until this point, but you reassured them you would be okay.
Just as you finished your nightly routine and pulled the covers back, there was a knock on your door. Your brows furrowed slightly. Who would be knocking at this time? Sighing, you approached the door and leaned close to the peephole, expecting to see one of the ladies or maybe even Rossi.
Standing tensely with his shoulders squared was Aaron Hotchner. A quiet gasp escaped you and you jolted backwards from the door. What the fuck was he doing here?! With shaky hands, you pulled the door open and slightly covered yourself with it, hyper aware of your clothing situation. Hotch perked up and stared down at you.
"Rossi informed me that you weren't feeling well and had to retire early." He murmured gently, his face stern. You swallowed and silently invited him into your room by stepping back, pulling the door with you. He cautiously walked into your hotel room and you closed the door behind him, wrapping your arms around yourself in a feeble attempt to cover your body up. Why, oh why did you have to wear shorts that barely covered your ass and an old tee that wasn't as baggy anymore from being washed one too many times?
You cleared your throat and avoided looking in Hotch's direction.
"He's right. But I'm sure I'll feel better by tomorrow though."
You offered a little smile, eyes flicking to his face and realised he was staring. Except he wasn't staring at your face, no, his eyes were focused lower down at your chest. Christ. You quickly looked away again before he realised you'd caught him out and he hummed, the sound making you clench.
"What's wrong?"
Oh no. You couldn't answer that. Your eyes met his and you opened your mouth, hesitating with no response to give.
"I.... Just felt sick, that's all. I'll be okay though."
You never were good at hiding how you were really feeling, the deepening frown on the man's face before you merely evident of this.
"Are you certain? You can tell me anything, you know that." He said softly as he stepped closer to you. You nodded and tried smiling again at him.
"I know, sir. I promise I'm alright though." You tightened your arms around yourself until your flesh dipped under the pressure of your fingertips. Hotch's eyes trailed over you from head to toe, clearly unsatisfied with your reluctance to tell him the truth, but didn't push the matter further. You inhaled as he stepped closer still, his scent once more overwhelming you. His fingers flexed at his side as though he was conflicted and you wished he would reach out and touch you. Eventually, he sighed quietly and retreated a step.
"Alright. But I will be keeping an eye on you now."
Not good. You nodded though, then yawned and your cheeks flushed with warmth. Despite the tension, a small smile tugged at Hotch's mouth.
"You should get some rest." He said. You chuckled.
"Yeah, you as well though. I know what you're like."
He raised a brow at you.
"Really now?"
Your eyes widened and you stuttered.
"W-well I'm just saying, you do leave the office last, you're up earlier than everyone else too-" you cut yourself off, not wanting to dig your hole any deeper. You dared a quick glance his way and he was still slightly smirking.
"Get some rest, your boss is going to be up early again tomorrow to call everyone in."
A little chuckle escaped you and you followed Hotch to the door, grabbing the door as he opened it and hiding behind it again as you watched him make his way out into the corridor. He turned back to you and gazed down at you again.
"Good night, (L/n)." He murmured. Your eyes met and you gripped onto the door.
"Good night, sir."
He shifted, as though debating something in his head, then he turned and stalked down the corridor. You didn't close your door until he disappeared from sight. When you returned to your bed you collapsed down onto it whilst your mind raced. That night your dreams were filled with forbidden touches and kisses from the man you loved.
🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑
And that's part one for now pls lemme know what you think and if anyone wants to be tagged in future works! Thank you for reading 💖💖
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daydreamingqueen1 · 7 months
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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
My masterlist
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The Kumquat (The Surprise, Part 4)
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Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: pregnancy times, established relationship, fluff on fluff on fluff, some references to past sexual trauma (nothing graphic), a Pap smear (aka the WORST medical exam and I will stand by that) Word Count: 1.4k
Summary: It's Emily's first non-local case since finding out you were pregnant, and you're both struggling. Especially because it means she'll have to miss you first prenatal appointment–and the first sound of your baby's heartbeat. Maybe there's still a way to share the moment, though...
Week 10: The Kumquat
Your heart beat wildly as you pulled into the parking lot of the OBGYN’s office. You wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans and checked your phone. Nothing. You groaned and rubbed your forehead.
You had a hard time with doctors, particularly with gynecologists–a stubborn remnant of past trauma. Emily knew that. Emily knew it was your first appointment and that you’d be scared. She’d wanted to come along; she would have asked all the questions you'd forget.
But duty called. It always did. You’d gotten lucky over the last month since finding out you were pregnant. The BAU hadn’t caught any huge cases and, even the cases they did catch had been local enough that Emily still made it home to you most nights. But, of course, your luck had run out.
You were angry with Emily for leaving, but you knew that was unreasonable. This is what you’d signed up for. Her job was important to her. It was important to you. The fact that she was so passionate about and dedicated to her team and the work they did was one of the things you loved most about her. You were always sad to see her leave and, yes, sometimes frustrated when she had to miss things you’d planned together, but at the end of the day, you knew she loved you, and that was all that mattered.
But this time. This time you were struggling. You tried not to take it out on Emily too much; it wasn’t her fault that your hormones were going wild. You were more everything than usual. More angry at her for leaving, more sad while she was gone, more terrified of going to the doctor.
You glared at your message-less phone for a few minutes before taking a deep breath and texting Emily.
Headed into the OBGYN🤞 I wish you were here. Be safe love 💗
You waited a few minutes with no response, taking a deep breath to swallow your rage. For all you knew, she could be in a bulletproof vest trying to talk down a murderer right now. She loves you, you reminded yourself. If she could be here, she would.
In the office, you were assaulted with the smell of rubbing alcohol and Lysol. You filled out what felt like a full novella of personal and family medical history. When they finally called you back, you felt like a science experiment–poked and prodded and measured. When the doctor pulled out the stirrups, you flinched.
“Is that necessary?” you asked.
She nodded at you. “Sorry. It’s just been long enough since your last Pap smear that I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
You hated it. Hated the whole process, you always did. It was painful and invasive and it made you remember things you’d really rather not remember. Emily usually went with you, to let you squeeze her hand and to whisper that it was okay, you were safe.
You clenched and felt tears prick at your eyes as the cold metal forced its way into you. Hands gripping at the paper covering the seat, you tried your very best to imagine Emily’s voice, her face, the smell of her hair. And you tried not to feel too furious that she wasn’t there. It’s not her fault, you repeated like a mantra.
They took some blood, they asked about running tests to screen for the baby’s health.
“Yes,” you said. “Run all of them.”
“The good news,” the doctor continued, “about these tests is that you also get to find out the gender earlier if that’s something you want.”
You knew you’d need to talk to Emily about it, but part of you didn’t want to know. Emily stubbornly calling the baby he, so sure was she that it was a boy, and you calling the baby she out of pure spite, had become an endearing part of your pregnancy to you. You might just rather be surprised.
“Now for the fun part!” the doctor said, clapping her hands together. “Would you like to try and find the heartbeat?”
Your stomach fluttered with excitement. “Really!? Isn’t it too early?”
“Sometimes we can hear it early with Doppler.”
You nodded vigorously, lifting up your shirt. It was the only time in your life you’d voluntarily had a doctor examine you.
She pressed the device to your lower belly, searching for sound. You waited rapt, barely breathing, so scared were you that you’d miss it.
But then: a whooshing sound and a quick, urgent, pattering heartbeat. Your baby’s heartbeat. You grinned wide.
“That’s her?” you asked, giddy.
The doctor nodded.
You felt like crying, from pure joy, but also because you wished Emily was here. She would be so sad, so sad, to have missed this. But maybe you could bring the heartbeat to her.
You took out your phone. “Can I record this?” you asked. “I want to send it to my wife.”
“Of course,” the doctor said.
You pressed the record button on your Voice Memos, and recorded a good thirty seconds of the baby’s heartbeat, knowing that Emily would listen to it again and again and again.
When you finally left the office, proud of yourself, you hopped in the car and checked your phone. Still nothing. You sent off another text to Emily.
Must be a hard day. ❤️Here’s something to cheer you up! 👶🏻🫀I miss you. Call when you can.
Later that night, as you lay in bed reading, your phone started buzzing. You smiled wide. Emily.
“Good evening, Agent Prentiss,” you joked.
“The heartbeat!” she squealed, so loud you had to hold the phone away from your ear.
You grinned and gushed. “Isn’t it the most beautiful heartbeat you’ve ever heard!?”
“Yes! After yours, of course.”
“Wow, you’re laying it on thick.”
“I’ve got a lot to make up for.” Emily sounded genuinely sad. “Honey, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”
“It’s okay,” you said, most of your anger dissipating the moment the words I’m sorry left her mouth.
“It’s not okay. I should’ve been there. You hate going to the doctor, and it’s our baby. It’ll get easier after we tell my team. Then I can take a step back.”
“It’s really okay, Em.”
She sighed, and you could tell there was nothing you could say that would alleviate her guilt. She’d carry it with her until she was home again, until she could scoop you up and hold you and take care of you the way she wanted to.
“Was everything okay? With you and Little Kumquat?”
“Kumquat looks good. Healthy as a horse. I–” You thought about the Pap smear, the taste of metal seeping into your mouth. “I’m okay, too.”
“You’re lying.” Emily’s voice shifted, now deep and concerned. “Y/N, what happened?”
“I’m not lying!” Sometimes you really hated being married to a profiler.
Emily grew more panicked. “Is something wrong? Honey, do I need to come home?”
“No! Em, it’s just…” You sighed, picking at your fingernails. “They had to do a Pap smear.”
The line was quiet for a moment before Emily spoke, her voice thick with emotion. “Oh, honey. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you answered, shaky, afraid if you tried to say more you might start crying.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I know how hard those are for you.”
You stayed quiet, willing yourself not to cry. Emily felt guilty enough; you crying would make it ten times worse.
“Listen, I’m at a hotel tonight, okay? I’ll have my phone by me all night. I know sometimes you get nightmares after, so just call me if you wake up, okay?”
“Emily, you don’t have to do that,” you said softly. “You need sleep.”
“I won’t sleep one wink if I’m worried about you all night, so promise me you’ll call.”
“Okay. I promise.”
“Thank you. Ugh, Rossi’s waving me over. I gotta go, but I love you so much, and I miss you every second, and I can’t wait to get home to you.” 
“I love you, too.”
You slept with your phone on the pillow next to you that night, and it wasn’t the same as having Emily there, especially when you woke up gasping in a cold sweat. But her voice lulling you back to sleep was pretty close, and you were so, so glad to have her–even from far away.
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emilyprentissluvr · 2 months
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How You Get the Girl (Emily Prentiss x Reader)
"And that's how it works. That's how you got the girl"
Summary: In which Derek and Hotch give you advice for your first date with Emily.
Warnings: None
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YOU STUDIED the chessboard in front of you, happily occupying your thoughts with the number of moves it would take to checkmate Gideon rather than your most recent case. If you played it right you would be able to take him down in five moves.
"Oh, I almost forgot. I have something for you." Gideon said, pulling your attention away from the board as he handed you a small, wrapped gift. "Forgot to give it to you at the party." He added as you took it from him.
"But you don't give birthday presents." You said as you looked down at the box and then back at him with a soft smile. He just nodded and gestured for you to open the gift, so you did.
You pulled the ribbon off and ripped the gift wrap before opening the box. When you looked inside you saw a sheet of paper with reservations to the nicest French restaurant in DC.
"Wow. Thank you." You smiled as you looked up at him. It was not what you were expecting but you were excited nonetheless.
"You're gonna love it," Gideon said with a rare smile.
"We are. You're coming with me right?" You asked.
"No. I hear someone else on the plane is a huge French food connoisseur." He answered.
"Who?" You questioned quietly.
"The only person that willingly watches those cheesy romance movies with you." He said with a chuckle which caused your eyes to widen. "Emily?" You questioned nervously as your fingers began to tap on the box.
It was no secret to anyone that you admired the brunette.
You were often caught staring at her which resulted in endless teasing from everyone else. The only problem was that you didn't know how Emily felt about you. Sure, she was flirty with you and very protective, but that was the case with everyone else. So it was safe to say you were in the dark about what the brunette felt for you.
"She spent the summers up there with her grandfather," Gideon said calmly, which was the complete opposite of what you were feeling at the moment, "Wh-what should I say?" You asked anxiously as your eyes darted from Gideon over to Emily, who was sitting in the window seat absorbed in her book.
When you looked back he just raised his eyebrows. You sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to help you. Gideon then gave you a small, encouraging nod, so you took a deep breath before standing up and walking towards Emily.
As soon as you sat down in the seat across from her, Emily looked up and closed her book, "Hey birthday girl," She said with a big smile. She had been calling you that even though your birthday was a couple of days ago. But you were in no rush to tell her to stop because, in all honesty, you loved the way her voice sounded when she said it.
"Hey," You said softly, matching her smile. "I- uh- wanted to ask you something.' You said nervously, as you rested your hands and the box on the table.
"Okay," Emily said softly she clasped her hands together on the table and leaned forward with an encouraging smile.
"I have reservations for that French restaurant downtown on Friday night. So, if you aren't busy I was wondering if you wanted to go with me? I mean, no pressure at all if you don't want to go but I just thought it would be nice and-" You rambled trying to avoid eye contact with Emily before the brunette spoke up, "Y/n!" She interrupted, causing your gaze to finally land on her.
"I would love to go with you." She smiled and your eyes lit up excitedly, "Really?!"
"It's a date." She chuckled.
"A date," You repeated, biting the inside of your check to try and hide your elation.
Emily reached across the table to give your hand a small squeeze that sent butterflies through your stomach.
"I'll pick you up at six?" You asked, trying to hide your nerves and surprise at the fact that she said yes.
"Sounds perfect." Emily smiled before removing her hand from yours and reaching for her book again. You couldn't help but bite your bottom lip to keep you from smiling as you turned your attention from Emily to the window. Although, if you had been looking, you would have noticed that Emily was more invested in watching you than the book in front of her.
●・○・●・○・●
It was Friday morning and you were tapping the kitchen counter waiting for your coffee to finish brewing. "There you are, lover girl!" Morgan said with a grin as he walked over to you. "You ready for your date tonight?" He asked, giving you a friendly bump on the shoulder as he stood next to you.
"Uh-huh," You said unconvincingly as you poured the coffee into your mug.
"What do you mean uh-huh? You've been following Prentiss around like a lost puppy for the last year and now you finally have your chance to win her over!" Derek asked raising an eyebrow.
"I don't know, I'm just..." You trailed off as you finished pouring your coffee. "Just what?" Derek asked confused.
"I want Emily to know how I feel about her." You said which only caused Derek to chuckle. "Trust me, she knows, you aren't exactly subtle."
You glared at him before stressing your concern, "But I'm not good at all the 'dating stuff'. I get nervous and don't know what to say," You continued with a sigh as you poured the coffee into your mug.
"Hold up! am I hearing this correctly?" Derek asked with a cheeky grin.
"Hearing what correctly?" You asked confused.
"Are you asking THE Derek Morgan for dating advice?" He said cockily as he pointed to himself dramatically.
"I- what?! No!" You spluttered.
"Ah ah, I think you were babygirl!" Derek said as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder teasingly. You were about to protest when you realized that maybe Derek could help, even if it was by a long shot, probably a very long shot.
"Okay fine," You muttered as you removed his arm from your shoulder, "But if you tell Emily, I swear to god I'll kill you."
"My lips are sealed." He said pretending to zip his lips closed. You rolled your eyes at his theatrics, "Alright, where do we begin?"
"Where do we begin what?" Your boss's voice said from behind you.
"I'm giving Y/l/n dating advice." Derek grinned and you sighed in embarrassment because once again your business was being aired out to the entire team.
"You're taking dating advice from him?" Hotch asked, only furthering the flush on your cheeks. "I- um." You started before Derek cut you off, "Of course she is! Who wouldn't want Derek Morgan's step-by-step guide on 'How You Get The Girl'?" He said cockily.
"Maybe you need to make a guide on How You Keep The Girl," Hotch said as he poured the coffee into his mug.
"Ouch, bossman," Derek said feigning pain while you laughed.
"I could give you some pointers, Y/n," Hotch said and you and Derek both looked at him in surprise.
"What? It's a slow day." Hotch said with a shrug. You knew the files on his desk would say otherwise but the fact that he was willing to help you despite being busy brought a smile to your lips. "Yeah, I would like that."
And that's how you found yourself sitting on Hotch's office couch while he and Derek stood in front of you, giving you pointers from the opposite ends of the spectrum.
"You don't need to rush anything, it'll come organically. Just enjoy yourself and don't put too much pressure on the night." Hotch said.
"Be bold. Women love that." Derek said.
"Just be yourself." Hotch added.
"You have to reel her in, but leave her hanging a little bit at the end so she'll come back on the next date wanting more." Derek said and your brain was starting to spin a little bit.
"Wait, so am I supposed to be bold or be myself? Because those two can't happen at the same time." You questioned.
"Be boldly yourself." Hotch said causing you to furrow your brows, "What does that even mean?"
Before anyone could answer the question you heard a knock on the door before Emily's head peaked through the door. "Hey, I hope I'm not interrupting but I have some casefiles," Emily said to Hotch as she walked in and looked at the three of you slightly confused. You immediately sat up straighter and Derek had to stifle a laugh.
"Hey, Emily." You said nervously. "We were just- um- you know..." You started, already mentally chastising yourself for your lack of words.
"We were just giving Y/l/n some pointers for her firearms requalification next week." Hotch said, easily lying and you let out a sigh of relief for his quick thinking.
"Uh huh." Emily said she put her files on Hotch's desk and immediately walked over to you on the couch. You could feel your heart rate pick up as she stood less than a foot away from you. "You know I could give you some pointers at the range this weekend. I find a hands-on approach usually works best for me." She said with a smile as she reached out to squeeze your shoulder.
"Yeah! I would like that." You said, probably way too quickly as you felt your cheeks go red at the thought of her doing a hands-on approach.
"Great, I'll see you later tonight. I'm excited" She said quietly as she used the hand that was on your shoulder to brush a stray piece of hair out of your face.
"Y-yeah me too." You stuttered which earned a small chuckle from the raven-haired women. She gave your shoulder another small squeeze before heading back to her desk.
"A Hands-on approach, huh? Can I join?" Derek teased, pulling you out of the trance that you were in.
"Shut up," You groaned as you fell back onto the couch, "Now back to the advice please."
Derek began to open his mouth but you held your hand up, "Preferably from the man who has years of marriage under his belt."
"You both wound me." Derek said as he mimed his heart being stabbed.
●・○・●・○・●
You blew out a deep breath as you stood in front of Emily's apartment door. Derek and Hotch's advice felt like they were moving a hundred miles per hour in your head. You tried to push them down as you knocked on the door.
Footsteps gradually got closer to the door before you heard the doorknob turn and were met by Emily's smile. You couldn't help but stare at her as she opened the door completely. "You look beautiful." You murmured as you admired the way her floor-length red dress clung to every curve perfectly. Her hair was curled and sat above her collar bones that were on display.
"And you look gorgeous." She said softly as she closed her door and grabbed onto your arm so you could lead her to the car. You had chosen to wear a suit to dinner, and you had never been more thankful for your intuition that you decided on a red corset underneath your blazer.
The car ride there was peaceful, chatting about work and other random things. That was one of the things you loved about Emily, even though she could turn you into a stuttering mess, she could also put you at ease better than anyone else ever could.
When you got to the restaurant you were shocked by how fancy it was. With your job you rarely had time to go out, especially not to somewhere like this. You both sat down but frowned as you opened the menu. "It's all in French." You stated with a small frown as you looked at words you didn't know the meanings of.
"Well, luckily for you, I'm fluent in French." Emily said with a wink and you decided that you truly never had been luckier.
After you both had ordered and almost lost consciousness at Emily speaking French, she reached over to grab your hand.
"Can I ask you a question?" She said.
"You just did, but you can ask me another one." You said with a teasing smile causing her to roll her eyes playfully.
"What were you doing with Hotch and Morgan, earlier?" She asked intrigued.
"Oh um, I thought we already told to you." You spluttered and the tiny hint of confidence you had two seconds ago was completely gone.
"You're a perfect shot, Y/n. If anything they need pointers from you." She chuckled and you just looked up at her, cheeks red from embarrassment.
"Well, the real reason is slightly humiliating." You muttered
"You could never humiliate yourself to me." Emily said with a small squeeze of her hand.
' I beg to differ' You thought.
You started to think back on Derek and Hotch's words from earlier, 'Be boldly yourself' was what Hotch said and you decided it was now or never.
"I really like you, Emily!" You blurted out and you saw Emily's smile grow so big her dimples were popping out. "Should I be offended that you think liking me is humiliating?" She asked.
"I- Oh my god! No! That's not what I meant-" You rushed out before Emily let out a deep laugh, "I'm kidding. Take a deep breath, honey."
The way the pet name easily fell from her lips almost made you forget what you were even talking about. Eventually, you were pulled back to your senses when you felt Emily gently playing with the rings on your finger.
"Promise me you won't laugh." You said seriously.
"I would promise you whatever you want." She smiled and if hearts could melt, yours would have in that moment.
"Well, Hotch and Derek were kind of giving me dating advice..." You said with a wince and watched as Emily fought off a smile.
"You said you wouldn't laugh!" You practically whined and Emily shook her head.
"I'm not laughing!" She said, "I just happen to find you so adorable I can't help but want to smile."
"You think I'm adorable?" You questioned, hardly believing that Emily could feel the same way you felt about her.
"I think you're a lot of things. And I happen to like all of them." Emily said with a smile so big her nose scrunched a little.
The rest of dinner couldn't have gone better. You couldn't remember the last time you had laughed or smiled this much. By the time you left the restaurant, you were both a little tipsy so you decided to take a walk in the park to sober up a little bit. It was spring time so the flowers were blooming and you two were surprisingly the only people out.
"Say something to me in French." You giggled as you clung to Emily's arm.
"Je n'ai jamais eu autant envie d'embrasser quelqu'un qu'en ce moment". Emily murmured as she looked at you.
"What does that mean?" You asked softly as you gazed up at her.
" I said 'I have never wanted to kiss someone more than I do right now.'" Emily repeated as she stopped walking so she could fully admire your features.
"What's stopping you?" You asked as you glanced down at her plush red lips.
You smiled as she pulled you closer, her soft hands cupping your cheek as your lips met. You could taste the champagne you both had from earlier and the smallest hint of her coconut chapstick as you deepened the kiss. You pulled her in by the waist, trying to get impossibly closer as you both smiled into the kiss. It was passionate, but soft, a kiss that took all of your worries off the weight of your shoulders.
Eventually, you pulled away with a smile on your lips. "You know," You started as you moved your hands from your waist and wrapped them lazily around her neck, "Derek said that I should leave you hanging a little bit so you'll come back on the next date wanting more." You smiled as she pressed a couple of quick kisses to your lip.
"Does this mean there's another date after this?" She asked as she wiped smudged lipstick off your bottom lip.
"Only if you speak French" You giggled as you admired the way her eyes shone in the moonlight.
"C'est un rendez-vous alors" (It's a date then). She said as she placed another kiss on your lips.
"I hope that was a yes." You murmured and Emily smiled, "Of course it was. How could I ever say no to you?"
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mxmmyprentiss · 2 months
Text
your ivy grows
Summary: It’s unfair, Emily thought. Emily loves you and you’re in love with JJ. And to make it even more complicated: JJ loves Will but she lives in your bed some nights and leaves you the next morning. Genre: Angst (with happy ending) Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader ; Jennifer Jareau x reader Warnings: none Word count: 6.6K
A/N: 2 fics in 2 days because my brain is trying to avoid other feelings. Also, this does not follow any canon timeline in the show. All likes, shares and comments are very much encouraged and appreciated. Thank you! Enjoy!
AO3
It all starts when you join the BAU.
You walk past the glass doors and immediately feel eyes on you. Of course, you’re a new face. They have never seen you before. You are instantly intimidated by the suits and the files on the desk and the dark brown eyes staring at you.
“Hello,” A tall raven-haired woman approaches you. The one with dark brown eyes. “Do you need help with something?”
You bow your head a little as a sign of respect. “Hi, I’m here for the unit chief? Agent Aaron Hotchner?”
“Oh, sure. Let me show you to his office. You must be the transferee from the Hostage Rescue Team.” Emily offers her hand for a handshake. “I’m SSA Emily Prentiss.”
You shake her hand firmly and smile. “I’m Y/N.”
“I’m looking forward to working with you.”
“You too.”
When Emily leaves you at Hotch’s office, something in her ribcage hurts and her stomach suddenly feels weird. And when you mouthed a thank you and flashed her a smile that reached your eyes, Emily thought her heart might drop to the floor.
After a short talk with the unit chief, Hotch introduces you to the team. You meet all of them - Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, David Rossi, Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia.
“Where’s JJ?” Hotch asks.
“I’m here, I’m here,” A blonde blue-eyed woman approaches the team. She’s carrying tons of files in her arms. “Hi, I’m Jennifer Jareau, communications liaison. Everybody calls me JJ.”
And the way your eyes twinkle as you and JJ shake hands doesn’t get past Emily’s scrutinizing eyes.
Emily has yet to know why but her rib cage might explode because of how fast her heart goes.
---
Your adjustment with the team isn’t easy at all. They have known each other for years and you’re the newcomer after all. But all of them have been kind and welcoming to you so far.
You are partnered with Emily and Derek most of the time. You spend a lot of time sitting at the back of the SUV and listening to them talk about their theories regarding the UnSub, which you have been fond of because you learn a lot from their insights.
Emily has always been considerate of you though. She always asks your opinions which you assume she does so you won’t feel left out or unheard.
“You can always speak your mind, Y/N. You’ll never know what might help our case.” Emily says to you, tapping your shoulder.
“I will try. Thank you, Emily.”
Emily has never loved her name until you said it and Emily knew she’s a goner.
---
It is the first time you accepted an invitation for drinks from your colleagues. It’s not the first time they asked though. If you’re not wrong, this would be the third. 
Spencer was the first person who invited you but you politely turned down the invitation due to your throbbing migraine at that time.
The second time, it was Emily. She told you the team is gathering for dinner and drinks at Rossi's and everyone would love it if you would come. But you feel something’s off. You didn’t deserve to dance with their victory just yet. You haven’t earned it yet. So, you told Emily you can’t make it because you’re meeting your parents that night and you haven’t seen them in a while, which is technically true. (Hint: Your parents died when you were sixteen.)
Tonight though, the third time, JJ approaches you. Her smile is so radiant that the sun would be so jealous.
JJ sits on your desk. “So … we’re betting who could make you say yes to drinks with the team.” JJ speaks faintly, but still just loud enough for the people on the next desks to hear. “I need the cash.”
You snort. “What’s in it for me?” You ask boldly.
Derek wolf-whistles. Spencer watches the scene unravel. And Emily tries to hide a glare by playing minesweeper on her computer.
“Pasta, wine and my eternal gratitude and friendship.” JJ folds her arms. “So, what do you say? We’ll split the cash?” She wiggles her eyebrows.
“Deal.” You shake JJ’s hand.
Groans are heard and JJ does a mini dance while collecting 20s from her friends. You catch Emily’s quick stare. She’s probably pissed at you for losing the bet.
---
Since that night at Rossi’s, you and JJ start spending more time together, both in the field and at the office. It’s not your fault though. It’s just something that happens. After all, Hotch declares who goes with who.
During your work travels, JJ always chooses you to bunk with her at the hotels you stay at while the others mix and match with their own roommates. Nobody else complains and so you don’t either. You like spending time with her and it’s not so bad when you hear her sleeping soundly at nights that leave you awake.
You and the team are in New Orleans for a case. New Orleans PD has requested the FBI’s help about a series of murders involving several - twelve, so far - white redhead women.
There’s something reserved about JJ’s smile when she approaches a certain policeman you don’t recognize. He introduces himself as William LaMontagne Jr. and you catch the way JJ’s shoulder brush against his multiple times when he discusses the case.
“He and JJ had a thing,” Emily tells you as you both proceed to the crime scene. “On and off, I guess.”
“Oh.” You frown. You don’t know why Emily is telling you this. Maybe you should try being more subtle.
Emily wishes she didn’t tell you this instead because the frown on your face has been more frequent as the days of this unsolved case pass.
---
JJ invites you to a pub near the hotel. The BAU and New Orleans PD just caught the serial killer this morning and somehow, everything feels right again in the city. You happily accept her invitation and put on your coat, walking past the rooms of your colleagues who must already be asleep.
JJ links your arms together the whole time of the walk to the pub. The only time she lets go of you was when you saw a familiar face waiting for her at the counter.
Will.
JJ kisses him on the cheek and he holds her wrist when she places a hand on his chest.
You want to vomit. Must be the acid. But you haven’t had drinks yet?
You go back to your hotel alone that night. JJ and Will dropped you off at the lobby, claiming they will just take a walk around and he promises to bring her back early tomorrow for your flight.
So now, you’re in the hotel lobby watching people pass by.
“Y/N?” Emily calls you. She’s still wearing her clothes from this morning and from the looks of it, she hasn’t slept yet either. Emily sits next to you. “What are you doing here?”
“Just … thinking.” Emily glances at the way you’re clicking your thumb and middle finger. “I’m okay. I just can’t sleep yet.”
“Does JJ know you’re here?”
“She’s with Will.” You respond impassively.
Ah.
Now, Emily knows why you’re here.
“Do you play scrabble?” Emily asks.
“Yeah.”
“I have one in my room.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
It’s the first time today that Emily saw you smile without restraint.
---
“So, where are you staying now?” Spencer asks JJ one afternoon in the bullpen.
“Well, that I’m still trying to figure out.” JJ sighs. “I might stay here for the meantime.”
“Here at the office? How are you going to sleep?”
“You can stay at my place.” You offer out of nowhere causing your friends to look at you. “I mean, if you’d like. I have a spare room.”
JJ’s eyes light up. “Are you sure?”
You nod. “I’ll help you pack. Whatever you need.”
It happens frequently now - Emily’s heart sinking to her stomach when she thinks about you with someone other than her. She might need to puke later.
Her jaw tightens as she rewrites a finished report. To hell with this paragraph and typo and this ugly font. 
---
The plan is for JJ to stay for three months at your place while her apartment is being renovated. You and the team help her move to your spare room.
You prepare dinner for them and your new roommate. Everyone is taking a look around your place and luckily, you cleaned up yesterday so the house isn’t at all a mess.
Emily joins you and JJ in the kitchen. “Can I help?”
“You can set the table.” You suggest.
“Sure.” Emily washes her hands in the sink. “Where are your plates?”
“The plates are on the drawer beside the fridge, spoon and fork on the next drawer to the left, glasses are next to the water dispenser.” JJ replies.
“You already know your way around here.” Emily states the obvious, trying to mask the pang of jealousy.
“I already slept here a couple of times before.” JJ admits and Emily wants to combust.
“I should have already charged her by the hour for rent.” You joke but Emily doesn’t laugh. She proceeds with setting the table instead.
It takes every ounce of self-control Emily has not to break the plates.
---
You and JJ quickly adapt to living with one another (not together, you cautiously remind yourself). JJ wakes up early and makes coffee. She doesn’t make breakfast though. Caffeine is all she needs in the morning. You, on the other hand, like to cook a little something to start your day.
Since JJ stayed in your apartment, the two of you always arrived at the bureau together. It’s no surprise to the team really. But since you and JJ established that routine, Emily hasn’t smiled much at your arrival to the office like she used to do.
You kind of miss it - being welcomed by a warm smile knowing the day you’re all about to have.
---
“Y/N,” You hear JJ’s voice in the dark. “Y/N.”
Your eyes flutter open and see JJ sitting on the edge of your bed. Even in the dim light, the bags under her eyes are noticeable and her cheeks are flushed.
You sit up. “What’s wrong, JJ?”
“Can I … can I stay with you? Just for tonight. I don’t want to be alone.”
Of course, this would be crossing the very thin line of boundaries you have left with her. If she sleeps beside you, she will be near you and if she’s near you, your thoughts will be filled with more of her and that’s … well, that’s just wrong - harboring thoughts about your friend.
But you are yet to learn to say no to Jennifer Jareau.
So you let her crawl to your bed and slip under the covers. You turn your back on her and face the lamp on the bedside table, praying to a God you don’t believe in to let you sleep without JJ running through your mind.
You wake up to an empty space beside you the next morning.
---
The wall comes crashing down when the thin fine line becomes a teeny tiny dot.
It has become a habit now - JJ crawling to your mattress when she’s sad and scared. You don’t get much sleep from that point forward because you feel her snuggling towards you while she’s asleep and the tiny noises she makes rewires your brain. Only for you to wake up early in the morning with a fixed set of pillows and JJ’s scent on the empty side of the bed where she used to lie.
This leads to you having additional caffeine intake every day.
“That’s your fourth cup today. Are you okay?” Emily asks you in the break room.
You massage the back of your neck. “I’m okay, Em. Just haven’t been sleeping very much lately.”
“JJ snores loud?” Emily jokes but the sharp pain in the pit of her stomach says otherwise.
“She doesn't snore.” You say.
And the pain in Emily’s stomach surges into something else entirely. Because how do you know? You have separate rooms. Your rooms are on the opposite sides of your apartment. You don’t sleep next to each other.
Unless …
“You two sleep together?” The crack in Emily’s voice is enough to make you stifle a giggle.
“Not in that way.”
Emily is tempted to ask in what way do you want to sleep with JJ. She’s also tempted to chug a hot freshly brewed cup of coffee to stop herself from further talking about this. She doesn’t need to know. She doesn’t want to know.
“She and Will are fighting a lot lately. She sleeps next to me when she’s sad, which is every night now I guess.”
Emily’s head is spinning and her ears are ringing and maybe her eyes are bleeding? She’s not sure. But it feels a little bit like that.
You watch Emily gulp her scalding hot coffee then spray it to the nearest sink. You rub her back gently, worried she might have burned her tongue.
---
Your apartment feels empty.
JJ flies back and forth to New Orleans during the weekends and weekends are the only days you can stay at your apartment for longer than a night’s sleep.
It’s too quiet now that JJ isn’t around. Your Law and Order marathon is left on its last episode that you two watched. You have no energy to continue it now.
You lie down on the couch and scroll through your phone. The online scrabble app that Emily installed catches your eye and you open it. Emily is online and you invite her to play. It lasted for almost a whole day before Emily calls you up and invites you to dinner at her place.
You accept.
You show up to Emily’s door 30 minutes later, bringing your promised take-out foods. Emily welcomes you into her home. A black cat purrs on your leg.
“Hi, buddy!” You excitedly pet the cat’s head. “Who are you?”
“That’s Sergio. He’s the boss around here.” Emily chuckles.
“Emily Prentiss, how come I didn’t know you’re a cat person?”
She smirks. “I’ll tell Hotch you need to be re-evaluated.”
You roll your eyes. You pick Sergio up and he doesn’t fight. He settles on your shoulder and purrs. “He’s so cute!”
“And expensive to have around.”
“I want a cat.” You blurt out. “I realize I want a cat.”
“You sure? You can’t take him though.” You and Emily share a laugh.
“Not this guy.” You squeeze-hug Sergio and he meows. “He will miss you.”
“Your apartment getting lonely?” Emily senses.
You nod. “JJ hasn’t been around much. I know she’s not going to be around forever, too.” You swallow, glancing to the floor where Sergio just jumped. “She and Will are working things out, I think. She’s flying out to New Orleans every other weekend.”
“JJ must like him a lot then.” Emily watches your lips purse.
“JJ loves him.” You correct her. And in a way, remind yourself of the fact.
Emily’s eyes dart towards your fingers involuntarily clicking. She observes you a lot of times and she knows your little tics by now.
“Let’s eat, Y/N.” Emily ushers you to her living room where the food is already prepared and the TV is already being set up. “What do you want to watch?”
“I want some light comedy if you don’t mind.”
“Modern Family?”
“How do you know?”
Emily recalls the Claire Dunphy Defense Squad button pin on your shoulder bag when you first attend the team gathering at Rossi’s. “Lucky guess.”
It’s halfway through the sitcom’s season when you fall asleep. Emily gazes at your head bobbing up and down as you try to keep yourself awake and failing. She gently cups your cheek and rests your head on her shoulder. Emily thinks you’re waking up when your body moves but you just shift in a more comfortable position which ends up lying your head on her lap and hogging the blanket you’re supposed to share.
Emily lovingly gazes at you, fixing your hair that falls out of place as you sleep.
Emily wishes this moment will stay forever.
You. Her.
Emily never felt more at peace.
---
“I have news.” JJ announces one morning in the kitchen. You are cooking breakfast for yourself and she’s brewing coffee for both of you.
You raise an eyebrow. “Good or bad?”
“I’m not really sure.”
You scrunch your nose. “I’m not a fan of news like that.”
JJ beams. “I’m pregnant!”
And your world stops.
Gravity is pulling you to the ground. Your feet feel heavy.
You almost burn the egg.
“Y/N?”
A tear falls on the pan. Additional salt, I guess.
You turn off the stove and approach JJ with open arms. “I’m so happy for you.” You hug her tightly. “This is good, JJ.”
“It is.” She hugs you back. You don’t let her go for a while until you can control your tears from dropping. “Thank you.”
You blink rapidly, pursed your lips then smile widely. “Congratulations, Jennifer.”
“I have to tell the team.”
“Of course.”
JJ looks so happy and she’s in a glow you have never seen before. You wonder if it’s the pregnancy or the fact that she’s in love.
Regardless, you’re happy she’s happy.
Even if the weird tightening in your chest says otherwise.
---
JJ announces her pregnancy to the BAU 3 days after she told you. Everyone is excited and happy for her. Hugs are happening left and right from the team.
But Emily is looking at you.
And from the corner of your eye, you see her too.
Suddenly, air is not enough. You excuse yourself from the celebration for a minute. You’re suffocating and you need to breathe.
“I knew you’d be here.” Emily’s voice startles you.
You’re sitting in a block on the rooftop. You don’t respond to her and instead, you light a cigarette from your pocket.
“I didn’t know you smoked.”
You frown. “Just when I feel like it.”
“You can talk to me, Y/N.”
“She told me 3 days ago, if you’re wondering why I wasn’t surprised.”
“How do you feel?”
“It doesn’t matter what I feel.”
“It matters to me.”
“Why?”
“Because …” Emily pauses. Overwhelming number of scenarios running through her head in a second. “Because you’re my friend.”
You blow smoke into the wind. Emily smells it.
“That’s what I seem to be to everyone. Just a friend.” You say bitterly. “I mean, I’m not really surprised. I’m basically disposable.”
Emily wants to storm to JJ’s office and she doesn’t care what the hell she’s doing in there, she wants to slap JJ hard; put all the pain you’re going through - because of her - in one hard strike. Sure, JJ is still one of her closest friends and she loves her to death but God -
It’s unfair.
Emily loves you.
If you were ever caught in a crossfire, Emily would come running to protect you in a heartbeat, no questions asked and all orders and protocols be damned. She will gladly take all the bullets for you until she loses her own heartbeat.
Emily loves you.
If anyone ever spoke of you wrong, Emily will be there to defend you with all her might. She will flip tables and look them in the eye and tell them how you're the kindest, most genuine, charming person she’s ever met and they’re lucky to even breathe the same air that you breathe.
Emily loves you.
If you were crying and out of breath, she would drop everything and give you the air she breathes if it means you will be okay.
It’s unfair, Emily thought.
Emily loves you and you’re in love with JJ.
And to make it even more complicated: JJ loves Will but she lives in your bed some nights and leaves you the next morning.
Emily loves you.
And not just as a friend. Because friends don’t treat friends this way.
Emily wants to tell you how she desperately wants to hold your hand especially when it’s cold so she could warm them up, to kiss your lips every time you bite them and every time you don’t, to hold you close when you need to be held, to arrange your hair when it’s turned into a mess.
But the anger and dejection bubbling in her chest take over instead when she hears how you describe yourself.
“How dare you.” Emily speaks in a monotone voice.
“What?” Your head turns to her, confused.
“How dare you call yourself disposable when all I ever wanted was you!” You are both caught off guard by her sudden outburst. All caution is gone now and Emily takes a deep breath in before continuing in a calmer but more desperate tone, “I see you, Y/N. I see you.”
“Em …”
“I see your fingers click when you’re uncomfortable. I see you watch sitcoms on your phone during breaks and once while Hotch was giving the team another talk. I see you care for others. You gave Garcia a unicorn mug just because it reminded you of her. You bring Morgan homemade lasagna when he told us he misses his mother’s cooking. You bought Reid the book he couldn’t find at the bookstore. You drink Rossi’s wine even when you hate it so he wouldn’t feel bad for offering. You fix Hotch’s ties when it’s messed up. For fuck’s sake, you always give me the last piece of pizza every damn time even when you’re still hungry! I see you talk to the victims’ families with so much love, care, and regret that you couldn’t prevent the crimes. I see your nose scrunch when you smell Morgan’s overwhelming perfume in the car. I see you grinding your teeth when you’re in deep thought.” Emily sighs, running out of breath. “The point is: I see you, Y/N.”
“Em …”
“It’s not your fault you don’t see me that way.” Emily walks out and closes the door behind her. 
You hear the strain in her voice over and over in your head and it almost makes you want to jump over the ledge.
---
The past few days have been awkward to say the least.
Emily is clearly avoiding you. She gets coffee a little later than she used to just so you won’t meet at the break room. She sits far away from you during the briefings. When you were lying on the couch in the jet, she moved to the other end so you would be out of her sight. She doesn’t look you in the eye when you have to talk about the cases.
And truthfully, it hurts.
---
You walk into the bullpen and slouch in your chair. Spencer greets you and tells you about the book he’s reading and a fun fact about its author. You smile in acknowledgement but don’t say anything else.
Your eyes scan the room to look for the woman who sits on the desk in front of you.
“Emily’s in Boston for a conference.” Morgan says when he notices your eyes wandering the bullpen. “She might be gone for a few days.”
“Okay.” You lean back on your chair and open the reports you've been working on since yesterday.
It’s quiet, you realize, when Emily’s not around.
She’s the only one who frequently talks to you even when you’re both busy. She brings you coffee twice a day - one in the morning and one before going home - and she knows just how you like it with two teaspoons of sugar and three teaspoons of cream, not milk. She sends you online game invitations through your personal email so you can play them on your computers when Hotch isn’t looking. She sends you playlists based on your mood after each case.
You let out a deep sigh you have been holding back.
It’s awfully quiet when Emily is not around.
---
JJ moves out of your apartment. Derek and Spencer help her and Will with moving and driving to their new place. Will has relocated to be with JJ. Even from afar, you can sense that they’re happy about starting their family and being with each other.
You are happy for her. JJ deserves the whole world and Will gave it to her.
When they leave, you don’t waste time sitting around. You change your bedsheets and pillowcases and throw them in the washer. You vacuum the bedroom, then the living room and the room JJ stayed in. You wash all the dishes and rearrange everything in the drawers and cabinets. You throw all the leftover food from the fridge. You deep cleaned your entire home.
And it feels good.
You feel an overwhelming liberty when you finally sink in your bed, hugging your pillow, and it no longer smells like JJ.
---
Emily comes back from Boston a week later. It felt like months for you though.
You spot her sitting on Spencer’s desk beside Derek. She’s giving out souvenirs she got from her trip and they laugh about something Spencer said.
As you come near to your desk, Emily hasn’t glanced at you, not even once.
You settle down on your chair and it’s Derek who spins your chair around to face them.
“Emily’s got something for you.” He passes you a couple of button pins and a dark green mug with BOSTON printed on it.
“Thanks.” You say.
“Tell her, not me.” He stands up and squeezes Spencer’s shoulders. “Let’s go, pretty boy.”
“Where?” Although confused, Spencer still follows him.
That leaves you and Emily just a desk away from each other.
“How’s Boston?” You finally ask. You couldn’t take the silence anymore. “Uh, the conference?”
“Boston was humid. The conference was boring.” Emily answers. You see her pick her nails and your hand hovers her hand. She instantly stops. “You’ve been busy?”
You shake your head. “It’s honestly refreshing to not have a case for a while. It’s better than finding dead bodies for breakfast.”
“It is.” Emily agrees.
Then, it gets quiet again. Emily is refusing to look you in the eye while you are hopelessly trying to get her to.
You can’t do this anymore.
You can’t stand having Emily so close and tiptoeing around the thing you need to talk to her about.
“I bought scrabble.” You blurt out. You don’t know why you said that.
Emily raises an eyebrow. “You bought  scrabble?”
“Y - yeah. I did.”
“Okay …”
“Do you want to play?” Emily stares at you. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just … I’m inviting you. If you’re not busy and have nothing to do, that is. I - I -”
“Y/N, breathe.” Emily chuckles. “Are you inviting me over?”
You exhale loudly. “Yes. Yes, I am.” You puff out your chest to gain some resolve. “Do you want to come over tonight? Uh, 8pm?”
You finally meet her eye to eye. Dark brown orbs meeting yours. You’re instantly weak at how soft and gentle she’s looking at you.
“I’d love that.” Emily replies.
---
You leave work earlier than you’re supposed to. You tell Hotch about needing it for personal time. He didn’t pry and let you go, only reminding you that you need to be early tomorrow.
“You going home?” Derek asks when he bumps into you at the elevator.
“Yes, I might have a date.”
“Might?”
“I’m really not sure what it is. I’ll find out. Gotta go!” You press the elevator button to the basement, walking back and forth inside the elevator.
You haven’t thought this all the way through. What the hell were you thinking asking Emily Prentiss over to your apartment? Your fridge is literally empty aside from your stash of electrolyte drinks.
Then, it clicks. You can think when you shop for food. You need to buy groceries.
---
You end up buying a lot more than you can carry.
When you got everything sorted out, you open your ipad to search for recipes. You’re not entirely sure what Emily would enjoy and frankly, you’re just winging it, hoping that whatever you might end up cooking would be good enough for her.
You lay out the scrabble board on the center table in the living room. You also prepared nachos and homemade salsa dip and laid it next to the board game.
When the doorbell rings, you make a startled jump. You peek at the peephole and see Emily standing outside, hands in the pockets of her coat.
“Hi,” you say as soon as you open the door. “Come in.”
“You have -” Emily brushes her thumb against your cheek to wipe the sauce off your face. She licks her thumb. “Salsa dip?”
“Guilty. Let me get changed. I just finished cooking.”
“Okay.” Emily’s eyes follow you to your room. She laughs lightly when she hears you curse because your foot caught a shoe and stumbled.
---
You and Emily sit across from each other at the dining table.
“This looks delicious, Y/N.”
“Let’s only hope it tastes as delicious as it looks.”
Emily hums in approval upon tasting the shrimp pasta you made. “Are you sure you’re not a chef?” She teases.
“You have homemaderecipes.com to thank for that.” You giggle.
The dinner went better than you could imagine. Emily complimented the dishes you made, hinting that you’re trying to make her gain weight with how many dishes you made just for  tonight. In your defense, you like being prepared and having options in case she has food allergies.
Emily insists on helping you with the dishes and putting the leftovers on tupperwares. You tell her she’s a guest and she didn’t have to. But you know better than to argue with her.
“Did you rearrange your kitchen?” Emily asks after opening every drawer and cabinet trying to figure out where everything goes.
“I did. When JJ moved out.”
Emily doesn’t say anything. She places the last fork on the drawer.
“I cleaned up everything after she left.” You continue. You’re waiting for Emily’s response but it doesn’t come. “I changed the sheets and vacuumed.”
Emily is leaning against the countertop, holding the glass of soda she has yet to drink.
“There’s no trace of her left here.” You say confidently.
“Y/N,” Emily murmurs. “I don’t want to be your rebound.”
Your head snaps fast and you stare at her with terrified eyes. “No, Emily, no.” You move closer to her, just enough to not invade her personal space. “It’s not what I want.”
“Good because neither do I.”
“When JJ left, I cleaned the entire house. I rearranged everything, I’m not even sure where everything goes exactly right now.” Emily listens to you intently. “And I didn’t feel sad when there were no traces of her left behind.”
Emily looks at you with a much softer, more hopeful expression on her face. She hopes that you won’t crush the tiny little hope that she’s holding on to.
“I just felt … free.” You continue. “And when I saw them walking to their car, Will had his hand on her belly and I felt genuinely happy for them.” You start to pace back and forth at the kitchen aisle. “But then, this past week without you, I realized that it’s quiet.”
“Quiet?”
“It was too quiet that I could hear myself and Spencer next to me thinking. And you know how he thinks a lot.” You continue your pace, hands flailing uncontrollably at times. “Then I kept seeing the empty space in your desk.”
“Y/N, you make it sound like I left you.” Emily lets out a scoff.
“I mean, I can’t blame you if you did but the thing is: I see it now.”
“See what?”
“You.”
You stop.
Emily stares.
There’s a long pause and though it may be silent, it isn’t awkward at all. Something shifted in the air, you could feel it.
You speak again, “I see your smile light up the room when I come in to work. You didn’t do it as much when I started arriving with JJ. I didn’t tell you how much I missed it. You have always been so welcoming of me, making sure I’m comfortable. You always ask for my insights when I wasn’t confident to share them with the rest of the team. You always make sure I have water and candies in the backseat when we’re investigating. You saved me that one time a police officer tried to hit on me. You leave aspirin on my table when you see me rubbing my head when I get migraines. You know the little things that mean so much to me.” You sigh, shoulders falling. “I see it now, Emily.”
Emily wipes the tear that fell to her cheek.
You take Emily’s hands and grip them, making sure she feels the intensity of sincerity radiating in your body. “And, I think, by now, it’s a reflex that I’d go looking for you in a room full of people.” You tell her. “I’m sorry it had to take not seeing you to actually see you.”
Emily pulls you into a hug. She wraps her arms around your neck and you hear her sobs. You tighten your arm around her waist, giving everything you had to that hug.
Because this, right here, is an entire universe you’re holding.
You stay like that for what felt like an eternity.
Emily is the first one to pull away. She places a hand on your cheek, caressing your face. “We’re going to do this right.”
“We’ll take it slow.” You agree. “We’ll go on dates.”
She nods. “That we will do, Y/N.”
---
It took a month for you and Emily to memorize where things are in your kitchen. Not only that but she has made herself comfortable knowing where everything is in your apartment.
You learn about hers as well.
She has invited you to her place more than a few times over. Her air freshener smells like lavender. Her lamp lights are always cool and never warm, she says it hurts her eyes. Her bathroom reeks of luxurious bath bombs especially during the weekend. She likes having dark curtains in her bedroom and light ones in the living room.
Emily adores Sergio. She has a whole list of reminders about him - his feeding time, vaccination dates, neuter date, etc. - stuck on the refrigerator door.
Emily also doesn’t have framed pictures of anyone at her place but as of two days ago, she has one on her bedside table - a photograph of you and her sharing ice cream from one of your dates.
---
It takes another month when you tackle Emily, your hands protecting her head before you both fall to the ground. The UnSub was taking a shot at her but you got her just in time. You watch Derek and Hotch go after the UnSub, leaving you and Emily on the muddy ground.
“Em, are you okay?” You muffle under your breath.
“I’m good, I’m good.” Emily sits up and checks on you. Her face instantly turns pale when she sees blood flowing on your left arm. “Y/N, you’re bleeding.”
“It’s not that deep.” Emily takes off her FBI vest then her coat. She uses it to put pressure into your wound to stop the bleeding. Curses of different languages leave your lips.
Emily calls an ambulance. She doesn't leave your side on the whole way to the hospital. She waits as the doctor and nurses finish patching you up.
“How’s Y/N?” Hotch asks Emily when he arrives at the hospital with the rest of the team.
“I’m still waiting for an update. She’s still in the ER. Probably getting some stitches.” Emily says, biting a nail.
Spencer puts a hand on Emily’s shoulder to calm her down.
---
The doctor says recovery will take at least two weeks. You wear an arm sling and are stuck at a desk job for the meantime. You don’t hate it. And even if you weren’t a tech genius like Penelope, she is fun and entertaining to be around during case consultations.
But every time the team leaves, your heart sinks knowing Emily might fall into another danger. You worry about all of them, of course, but Emily …
It’s five months later that you’re in the unit chief’s office talking about your budding relationship with a coworker.
Emily has your heart and you will wreak havoc if something happens to her. You wish the universe won’t test you.
---
Emily is sitting on the opposite chair. Hotch is behind his desk.
“I can’t say I’m surprised.” Hotch tells the both of you. “I’ll have HR send me the files that you need to sign. It won’t be complicated.”
“Are you sure none of us needs to be transferred?” You ask him again, scared that the answer might change.
“I’ll make sure of it. You’re both an asset to this unit and it would be a damn shame if we lose either one of you.”
You and Emily can finally breathe.
“Thank you, sir.” Emily says.
“Thank you. I promise this won’t affect anything, especially work.” You tell your boss.
Hotch nods. “It hasn’t, so far, and we’ve known for months.”
You choke on air upon seeing Hotch’s smug smile.
“You’d literally take a bullet for her, Y/N.”
“Which I told her was stupid and reckless.” Emily adds.
Maybe you and Emily aren’t so subtle after all.
---
It’s a year later when you and Emily are throwing a housewarming party. The team arrives one by one. Spencer brings you an espresso machine. Derek hands Emily a toolkit in all pink; he gets a jab on the shoulder from Emily. You happily accept Penelope’s cheese board set. Hotch sets up the money tree he bought by the door. Rossi brings white and red wine for dinner. Will, JJ and little Henry arrive last. Will is carrying their son on his arm while JJ brings out their gifts.
“I come bearing gifts,” JJ announces.
She bought a lot of healthy and unhealthy snacks for you and Emily but the personalized cushion for Sergio with I Love My Moms embroidered in it is your favorite. You excitedly show it to your cat and he immediately lies on it.
“It’s Sergio approved!” You squeal.
JJ takes a picture of Sergio enjoying her gift.
“Hi, little buddy!” Emily takes Henry to her arms, cooing the little boy. “God, you’re heavy.”
“You’re a big boy now, aren’t you, Henry?” You slightly pinch his cheeks. “What are you feeding this kid? He grows up so fast.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me I will cry.” JJ chuckles.
Everyone gathers on the table. You and Emily have one rule during the dinner though: No Work Talk.
Rossi compliments your pasta and you thank him. Emily opens the red wine that Rossi brought tonight.
The rest of the night goes better than expected. You have no idea why you and Emily were ever nervous about hosting.
When everybody left and everything was cleaned up, you and Emily found yourselves cuddling in your bed. 
Yours and Emily’s bed. 
“I love you,” you whisper against her chest. Your fingers are fidgeting on the button of her pajama shirt.
Emily’s eyes widened. Everything stops and her heart feels like it’s going a hundred miles per hour.
“I know this is the first time I said it,” you say, hearing how fast her heartbeat is going against your ear. “But I have felt it for a long time now.”
Emily pulls you closer to her, leaving a kiss on your forehead. “I love you too.”
Whatever the future holds, you’ll be fine as long as she’s in it. Everything finally feels good and right in the world.
Because Emily Prentiss loves you.
And you love her.
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ilovehugslikealotalot · 2 months
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She Was Only Ever Mine
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(not my gif)
WARNING: MINORS DNI, smut suggestive ending, jealous!emily, angst, mean!emily, flirty!emily/r, possessive!emily, alcohol consumption, brief mention of firearms, blood, one bed trope
req: So it’s Emily Prentiss x fem!reader and this is one of my first asks so idk if I’ll get picked or wtv but I appreciate your time anyway! :) So, maybe there’s a one bed trope somehow in this? But maybe during a case r and Em have to be roomies :) the team has just finished the case and is out for drinks, r suspiciously keeps getting alerts on her phone which the team is obviously curious about. Basically Emily hates r’s guts and r never figures out why despite her attempts at trying to befriend the woman. Bar after the case and Tara flirts with r because she knows Emily will get jealous and most likely confess
Long fic! Buckle up! (Not my best fic and was rushed pls forgive me)
Emily grumbled as she board the plane. This was absolute nonsense, of course she had to share a one bed hotel room with y/n. The woman was insufferable, smiling and prancing everywhere she went.
No words could describe the dread she felt everyday walking into work and seeing the prissy Princess, thank the Lord JJ would leave a coffee on her desk every morning, though, it’s strange she only started doing it after y/n came on the team..
Emily shook the thought off and continued her last page of paperwork. Signing off on it and pushing it aside. Checking the time she place a few more extra things in her go bag.
Knock. Knock.
“Come in!” The Unit Chief exclaimed, never lifting her eyes from her bag, a certain ‘prissy princess’ popped her head in with a bright smile. “Care for coffee?” she quipped, hoping for a yes, although, deep down, she knew she’d be rejected.
“I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out with you in public, princess” She had assigned her that nickname the minute she walked through the doors of the BAU. Her demeanor had screamed Disney Princess. Y/n frowned but slapped inside holding two coffee cups, “Thought so, I got you coffee anyways, Wicked Witch of the West” The younger woman smirked, when Emily’s mouth dropped open, “I’ll let you take that one, but I will get you back for that.” She warned, taking a sip of the warm liquid, she hummed in approval, “you know my order…do you stalk me, Princess?” Emily teased, y/n rolled her eyes as she sat down on the chair infront of the chief’s desk. “I wouldn’t dream of it”
—————
“Ugh, why are you so annoying?” The unit chief complained, the Young woman behind her bit her lip to hold back from saying something that could land her at a desk job, “why are you so mean?” Y/n retorted, crossing her arms as she stormed past the woman for what seemed like the 40th time that day. Not even the slightest moment of peace lasted, not when these two were in the same room. JJ and Tara looked at each other and sighed, “y’know, Em, you’ve gotta be nice to her some day” JJ lectured, her motherly tone popping out, Tara followed y/n into the jet.
Lord knows what’ll happen now that Emily and Y/n have to room together.
”Hey, y/n, you okay?” Tara cooed, noticing y/n’s angry gaze and sniffles, “I’m here if you need to talk.” Sitting down she gave the woman a sincere look, Tara had always been kind to her since her arrival at the BAU, even showed her the ropes and policies. “It’s just..I dunno, I’m so frustrated!” she exclaimed, picking at the skin around her nails, “I haven’t done anything to her! At least nothing that I know of”
JJ and Emily entered the jet last and Emily sat quietly next to y/n with an angry look, they both tensed, refusing to look at each other in any way. Clearly both JJ and Tara were weirded out with the tension and moved to the seats next to them, just to give them a little room. The guys were upfront talks about who knows what, while the back was as silent as a mouse. Emily glanced over to seeing y/n looking out the window and picking around the skin around her fingers. The older woman hated to admit it but she felt bad, she always did, but being the stubborn woman she was, never apologized, at least verbally.
Placing a soft hand on y/n thigh, she gave it a little squeeze as an ‘I’m sorry.’ Looking at the hand, y/n only scoffed, “Y/n..” Emily pleaded softly, looking at her with sincere regret in her eyes, “What, Emily?” Y/n turned, her eyes filled with annoyance, “Look, I’m-“ Emily looked down to see a red substance start to seep out of y/n’s finger, “Hey! Don’t pick at it, here, I’ll get you a band aid, she hurriedly dug in her bag for one and unwrapped it carefully, “I told you to stop, you’ll hurt yourself!” She tsked, trying to get the medical wrap to stick, “there, that’s better,” she smiled softly trying to not show too much tenderness, looking at the woman infront of her who held a curious expression, “Thank you, Emily.” The gray haired woman simply nodded, not saying another word.
Time passed quickly and upon landing, the team was debriefed by local police men, “and you’ve confirmed that this is him?” Emily stated, pointing to their Unsub who’s face on the paper, which was very clearly out in the open, “Yes Ma’am, we have agents stationed outside of his living area within a 100 acre radius.” The investigator replied, handing her the file, the team all sighed, they all could rest tonight, after weeks of intel gathering and tracking down some of the most evasive killers they’ve got their Unsub bagged. Tommorow was the night of a gala were several owners of various big name companies would attend. It was there where they would make an arrest.
It just so happend that their Unsub was Damian Frazier, a very charming man who killed his way to the top of the food chain. He had some connection which is how he evader for so long, but now they had to only wait one more day.
———
“Alright, I think I’ve about finished my report, I’m gonna call it a night” JJ groaned, Spencer following swiftly behind, Rossi sneaking with him. Tara stood up and straightened her shirt, “Yeah! I think I’m gonna hit the hay too, Luke, Matt” she said through gritted teeth, they looked at the woman confused before mouthing ‘ohhhhh’s. Sometimes, the two shared the same brain cell and it took for them to look at each other before realizing. The last three quickly excused themselves, getting the Assignment.
The team had took it upon themselves to start Project Cupid, amazing name, right?
Well, Garcia thought so, she made it up with an excited expression on her face. The plan was to do everything possible to get Emily and Y/n to realize their feelings for each other. That meant booking hotel rooms so the two had to room together.
“Ugh, why am I always stuck with you?” Emily sneered, writing a little more aggressively on her paper, y/n stayed silent, tired of the woman’s antics. She only tried distracting herself, in this case, it was by texting someone to keep her occupied.
Isobel Castille had been a good friend of hers for a while, they dared for precisely 3 months before moving on with their lives, realizing that they weren’t meant to be. That didn’t stop them from being close, no, it encouraged them to confide in each other. Y/n laughed at a joke her friend sent, Emily lifted her head and her jaw clearly tensed, “Holding out on me, Princess?” She commented, seemingly not caring about who was making her smile brightly. “Huh? Oh, it’s no one. You done?”
———
It was obvious now that the two had a…special relationship, they argue but it never got too heated. Prentiss had known when she crossed a line and apologized, non-verbally most of the time. But over this, said time, Emily developed a few feeling that she might’ve shoved down. It had just been 2 days after their last case, and Emily began to freak out about The events that unraveled at the hotel.
~~~ “You sure you don’t want me sleeping on the floor?” Y/n asked, making sure that she wouldn’t be making the gray haired woman anymore grump in the morning, “Yeah, Princess, just sleep so I don’t have to hear you squeaking.”
Y/n shrugged, pulling the covers over her as Emily silently read her book her glasses resting on the brdge of her nose. Before they knew it, both were fast asleep, the issue was, in the morning they had awoken tangled in each other’s arms, both also afraid to admit that it was the best night’s sleep they’d gotten in a while.
They very quickly pulled away, Emily being the first to zoom out of the comforting bed. Y/n laid motionless for a few minutes, replaying the memory of Emily’s warm and soft skin on hers. She knew this was messed up, Emily hated her, why should she be so attracted to someone who wouldn’t want her in a million years?
Before she started to spiral she brought up the courage to get out of bed and dress. It wasn’t flashy but she wore a tight fit long-sleeve and boot cut jeans that fit her well. She finished it off with a necklace that Tara had gifted her for her birthday and earrings.
Emily came out of the bathroom and tried to stop her lingering gaze, but she couldn’t hold back the way her eyes took in the sight before her. “What? Is it that bad?” Y/n questioned, crossing her arms in discomfort, clearly concious of the way Emily thinks of her.
The profiler immediately sense a change in tone and posture, “No, you look, good.” The corner’s of her lips turned up slightly in a almost invisible smile, not waiting for her response but swiftly moving across the room to retrieve her phone and badge.
———
The day went by quickly with the arrest going smoothly actually, not wanting to embarass himself further than he already had. Damian took the cuffs willingly but not without cursing the government, of course.
“Drinks on me?” Rossi asked, smiling as the team cheered, the weeks had been long but all became worth it in the end. It was safe to say that, good work was done and a reward was certainly due.
“Hey, y/n can I talk to you before we leave for the bar?” Tara asked, gently placing her hand on the woman’s bicep. “Uhm, Yeah, sure!” She smiled, walking with Tara away from the group, JJ smirked as she elbowed Garcia signalling that their plan was in motion.
The bubbly blonde spoke up, “Oh, aren’t Tara and Y/n just so cute?” Penelope felt excitement rush through her veins as Emily looked over with a blank expression. It was clear she was trying to stay composed, but her tensed jaw betrayed her. “I guess so, but y/n could do better” she said through gritted teeth, JJ cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eye, “Like who, Em?”
“Erm-“
“Em! You ready?” Y/n seemed a bit more joyful which made Emily worry about what they talked about. “Uh, Yeah, Princess, let’s go” this time, Prentiss said it with a softness in her tone, which of course made y/n’s heart race. Tara had pulled y/n aside to tell her the plan, Emily did like her, you couldn’t hide anything from a team of profilers. Now, y/n just had to play along like she didn’t know anything.
Emily shockingly accompanied y/n home since she knew she had left some clothes at her place. “You still have this shirt? No wonder why I couldn’t find it” Emily laughed as she brought the shirt up to her body and made a duck face. Y/n snorted as she put on some flare leggings and Emily’s old sweat shirt. “Okay, this is nice!” She said in the mirror coming into the bathroom where Emily was fixing her hair.
“Uhm, excuse me, miss, that’s my sweatshirt” she teased, pulling at it, slowly bit her lip as she took the woman in front her in. She ran a hand down her arms and gave a cocky smirk. “well, you look good in it” she assured, y/n couldn’t help but bask in the section cheif’s affection. Something that felt so foreign, yet, meant to be.
——
“There they are!” Luke beamed, everyone turning their heads immediately to the two. “Hey, y/n” Tara friendly greeted, but her stance suggested she wanted something more. With a deep breath y/n ripped herself from Emily’s hands and gravitated toward the doctor. “Tara, I’m practically peeing myself right now, what if if doesn’t work!” Y/n exclaimed, though her tone was hushed careful not to let Emily hear.
Speaking of the woman, she was conversing with Rossi and Simmons while she almost always had her eyes on you and Tara. It angered her the way that Tara could make her seem so comfortable and free so quickly. Perhaps it was a consequence for not dealing with her feelings sooner.
“Emily, if you keep staring I think you’ll actually burn a hole through her.” Rossi chuckled, giving the woman a nudge, she only chuckled half-heartedly, Simmons spoke up with a hand to her shoulder.
“What’s up?”
“I think I like y/n, it’s just that I know she doesn’t like me, I mean look at her and Tara” she admited, looking down at her drink swirling it around her cup. Rossi and Simmons looked at each other like they just got a coldblooded killer to confess to their crimes.
“Well, maybe if you just talk to her. It’ll help, before Tara makes a real move” Matt said, slowly pushing her over, Tara noticed a certain woman coming over and placed a hand on y/n’s waist and pulled her closer, “play along” she whispered, y/n nodded slightly and let out a laugh.
Emily scoffed, it should be her holding you like that not Tara.
“Oi, Princess, over here!” She stood with her arms crossed, y/n giddily walked over, but of course conceal if her excitement.
“Yeah? You okay, Emily? We can leave-“
“I want you, Y/n. I need you! I know I was so rude to you and I never told you why, but I just didn’t know how to handle my feelings. I love you, I mean it and I get it if you like Tara because she’s just amazing and I’m an asshole, I hope you can-“ as Emily rambled, not meeting y/n’s loving gaze, she kissed her first to shut her up. “You’re good, I like Tara, really. But, I love you”
Emily couldn’t stop the heat growing in her cheeks, or the way her lips bended into a wide smile.
Maybe this could work.
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Text
The beauty hidden underneath
Summary: You are not comfortable wearing a swimsuit/bikini and Emily is there to help you love yourself.
Ship: emily prentiss x fem!reader
Promt by: @emberfrostlovesloki
TW: body dysphoria
—————————————
You’ve been at it for what seems to be hours. It, being standing in front of a mirror, staring at yourself and trying to not cringe or flinch at every scar, every curve and every hint of cellulite. If you stare too long, if you think too much, a new wave of tears will make its way down your face and no matter how hard you try, you can’t stop it.
You try to remind yourself that this body has suffered great pain, has survived many tragedies. That every scar is a story, every dip is a love mark. But you can’t, because this body, this woman staring right back at you, is not a woman that’s pretty. It’s a woman whose thighs are touching, whose belly is slightly protruding, whose glutes are covered in stretch marks.
You turn sideways, you look at how your lower stomach is sticking out. You suck in a breath and hold it, you arch your back, you look thin. You need air, you release that breath and then it starts all over again. The loathing, the tears, the sobs. You punch at the extra fat on your arms, on your belly on your thighs and you try so hard to somehow make it disappear.
You don’t even know how all this started in the first place because you’ve been so good for so long. But as you think about it, you know exactly when it started; when Emily suggested you and her take some time off and go to the beach for spring break.
You’ve been dating for almost six months now and you’ve finally let the team know, which means you can be open about it and be in public without fear of someone seeing you. So when you finally told Hotch and the team on the way home from yet another grueling case Emily suggested you two go to LA, enjoy some time alone, out and proud. You didn’t think twice before saying yes, because she looked so happy and you didn’t want to ruin it for her.
That was two weeks ago. Two weeks of you trying your best to feel comfortable in your own skin. Two weeks of you trying to remember how to swim because in reality, you hate your body so much you haven’t been to the beach in three years. It’s been fourteen days of trying swimsuit after swimsuit, seeing what covers most her skin and what hides her shames.
“Y/n?” Your head has never snapped faster towards the direction of a sound before.
You grab your robe from the bed and turn around as you wrap it around yourself, trying to hide your face from Emily, not wanting to alarm her. “Hey, I didn’t expect you home so soon.” But you didn’t even know what time it was or how long you’ve been standing there.
“Honey, look at me.” You hear Emily asking you softly as she steps closer to you. You shake your head, your body still turned away. “Y/n, please.” She says softly.
You cannot say no to her when her voice is so sweet, so soft, so concerned. You turn around, tears still streaming down your face and you lock eyes with Emily. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” You say, words coming out in broken sobs as you lay your head on Emily’s shoulder.
“Talk to me, sweetheart.” She says, leaving a kiss stop your head. “What is it?”
You raise your head and you look at her; this gorgeous woman you get to call your girlfriend. “I can’t go on vacation with you. Not at the beach, I can’t.” You confess as you pull yourself away from Emily’s embrace.
You watch as Emily blinks several, her expression not hurt but confused. But she seems to put the pieces together quickly after taking one look around and revisiting the scene she came across moments prior; her girlfriend looking at herself in the mirror and crying.
“Oh, honey.” She says, approaching you once again and this time taking you by your wrist and positioning you in front of the mirror while standing behind you.
“Emily, please don’t.” You beg her looking away from the mirror.
“Y/n, do you trust me?” She asks you.
You look in the mirror then, only then, and you look at Emily. You look into her eyes and you smile at her trying not to blink, the bangs too close to her eyes tickling her. “With my life.” You respond, the question not needing to be pondered.
She kisses your cheek and slowly unties the robe around your waist and pulls it down gently, allowing it to fall on the floor. Her hands caress over your stomach, across the jugged scar in the right side of your abdomen. “This on is from when you were twenty three, when you had your appendix out.” Emily says her voice low and sweet as honey. “You told me that you couldn’t stop picking at it because you needed something to do with your fingers.”
“You should know by now, I can’t stand still.” You say with a small chuckle and you feel Emily nod against you, leaving a kiss on your right shoulder.
Her hand doesn’t stay there, she moves the scar on your chest. “That’s from last year. And also the day that I realized how deep my feelings for you went. It took almost losing you to understand. To see.” And then her hand goes and rests on the part of you you hate the most. “And this, this little bump right here is gonna host our future babies.” She says with a small chuckle as her thumb caresses your still empty belly.
“Oh yeah?” You ask her with a small laugh. “So I’m the one who gets pregnant?”
“Oh, absolutely.” Emily says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re the stronger one between the two of us. Can you imagine me walking around being kicked and punched? I so don’t have your strength. Or your patience.” You find your hand resting on top of Emily’s and for once you can actually imagine it. And the image of you gaining all this weight has never made you happier.
“How many are we gonna have?” You ask, your smiling growing upon gazing into Emily’s loving brown orbs.
“We’ll start with one. Hopefully they are twins, but if they’re not we can always adopt.” She says with a shrug. “And you’ll carry them with these strong arms and you’ll run after them with these strong legs that chase criminals.” She reminds you, now both her arms wrapped around your waist. “And you’ll put them on those shoulders that always seem to carry the world’s weight on them.”
You turn around in her embrace and you wrap your arms around her neck lazily, planting a kiss on her lips. “I love you, Emily Prentiss.” You say against her lips.
“Good.” She replies. “‘Cause I love you, too.” She kisses you once more, before pulling her lips away and placing a strand lick of hair behind your ear. “And if you don’t want to go to the beach that’s okay. We can go somewhere else. Or we can go to a vacation house I have in the Hamptons. It was it’s one pool and only I’ll be able to see you.”
“You’d go through all that trouble for me?” You ask, your insecurities somehow still getting to you.
“When are you going to understand, y/n?” She asks with a sigh. “I’d go to the ends of the earth for you if it meant you would smile.”
And smile you do, lunging forward and kissing her once more. “The Hamptons sound nice.” You say eventually, because you realized that so long as you had Emily, you had all you needed.
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maybege · 11 months
Text
Big Dick Energy: The Sequel
Summary: An investigation takes you to a mall but it is Aaron Hotchner who takes you to a lingerie boutique.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader
Wordcount: 4.9k | Rating: E (18+ only!)
Warnings: explicit sexual content, dom!Hotch, sub!Reader, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, verbal degradation, (semi)public sex, cream pie, then some unexpected fluff
Rewatching Criminal Minds has reminded me of how much I actually thirst for Aaron Hotchner. Other than that, I have absolutely no excuse for this. Read, enjoy, and pretty please leave a comment and tell me what you thought because the possibilities with this dynamic are endless and I am very excited to share it with you! (Though I will need to think of a better title.)
masterlist | crossposted on AO3
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Looking for unsubs truly was a task that looked different every single time. Sometimes you had Penelope work her magic until you could pinpoint them, sometimes you were in direct contact due to a kidnapping situation. Other times you felt like you were playing spies on a big playground. Like right now.
The team had determined that the most likely spot for him to strike next was at a mall and with the entire sheriff’s office playing dress up, you were posing as unsuspecting shoppers on a calm Tuesday morning.
Hotch had decided you were all to split up into little groups. Reid and Prentiss had grabbed the bookshop as their assigned spot and you were sure Derek was somewhere. But before you could choose which area of the mall you wanted to call your domain, Hotch had instructed that you join him. Pretending to be a married couple. In a lingerie boutique.
For a moment, you thought you were hallucinating.
But sure enough, a few hours later, you and Hotch were browsing through the aisles of lace and tulle and mesh and the most delicate of undergarments you had ever looked at. And his presence did not make it any easier not to drift off into any daydreams.
You hadn’t really spoken after what happened on the plan and you weren’t sure if you were glad about it or not. It is like it had never happened. But it had happened. Because your jaw was still sore and you could still hear the way his voice dropped when he had hit the back of your throat. Or how gentle his fingers had been when it was all over. How he had taken care of you.
But by the time the plane had landed, he was back to his cool professional self and you were back to your pining, needy pile of infatuation you became when he was around you.
“I don’t think he is going to show up,” Emily’s voice sounded in your earpiece, “He would’ve hit by now. Maybe we should look at other possible targets before we waste too much time here?”
“I am sure pretty boy is holding his tongue about how time in a bookshop can never be wasted time,” Derek teased and you grinned. He was not wrong.
There was a hint of a smile on Hotch’s face and when his eyes met yours he looked much lighter than before. You watched him, waiting for his decision on the matter and he looked so damn calm, returning your gaze with so much ease. As if you did not affect him at all.
Which in turn made it all the more frustrating to feel your body react to him at the slightest stare. Your heartbeat started going faster, your breath heavier and everything felt so much more heightened when he was around.
How hopelessly did you want to crush on your boss? Your body’s answer, apparently, was a resounding: Yes.
But after the airplane incident, you had no more courage left. You had (kind of, if accidentally) initiated the first time with him. Now, you had to calm yourself with the thought that it was up to him to show you if he was interested.
A ringtone brought you out of your thoughts and you flinched. The young woman at the register picked up her cell phone, not even sparing another glance at you before she started off on what sounded like a very detailed retelling of her last weekend.
Hotch cleared his throat and your eyes fell on him, still waiting for his response to Prentiss’s suggestion.
“I agree,” he finally said, standing so close to you that it looked as if he was talking to you and you only, “We should regroup in a bit. I will see everyone at the office in two hours.”
“Sir, are you giving us a break?” not even the subpar sound quality of your earpiece could hide Garcia’s excitement.
“Yes,” he grinned at you, his hand reaching out and hovering over yours. Your breath caught in your heart because how could one man be so handsome? “I am giving you a break.”
The clicks of everyone disconnecting their microphone were only overshadowed by the sound of your heartbeat in your own ears. Hotch’s intense gaze was still on you and you could not shake the feeling that something big was about to happen.
“What’s your size?”
“What?”
“You have been staring at this piece for the better part of an hour,” he stated, “So I think you should try it on. And I think I should see you in it.”
Your mouth gaped open, not expecting such a blatant statement from your boss. Especially not one who was usually so tight-lipped on all things personal. You swallowed harshly, trying to find the right words that did not betray your eagerness but only ended up nodding at him.
You threw a look at the tags of the set he was holding, making an effort not to also stare at how big his hands were and subsequently wonder what his fingers would feel like inside of you.
Hoping he did not notice, you pressed your thighs together in an attempt to take care of the pulsing that was stronger than you would have liked it to be. But the way his gaze dropped let you know he certainly did notice. You swallowed again, “This, uh, this one should fit.”
Hotch nodded once, turning around while holding up the hanger.
“Excuse me, my wife would like to try –“
Before he had finished his sentence (you tried to ignore the strange skip your heart made when he had called you his wife), the cashier motioned somewhere to the back of the shop without even looking at you. Her phone was still pressed to her ear and her face was turned toward the glass front, probably observing the people milling about instead of the (in her mind) boring, business casual-wearing couple that tried to spice up their equally boring sex life.
If only she knew …
You followed the tall man to the little back room where a row of changing rooms was decorated with lush carpet and velvet drapery. If it did not look so plasticky cheap, you might’ve found it luxurious. Much like the showroom of the boutique, the rooms were completely abandoned and so quiet, the blaring mall music seemed even louder here.
Your eyes drifted to the corner of the curtained entrance.
“There are cameras here.”
“It’s not like we are going to do something inappropriate,” Hotch quipped as he strode to the end of the aisle, hanging the piece of lace into the last cubicle.
For some reason that disappointed you.
By the way he knowingly smirked at you, you knew that was exactly the kind of reaction he had wanted from you. And that gave you a little bit of hope.
You were still questioning what you were doing by the time you had reached him. Was this really happening? And what was this anyway? What was he planning?
Aaron tilted his head, his eyes mustering you up and down and just before you stepped inside, his hand landed on your shoulder. It was warm and heavy and you cursed yourself for how aware you were of him. How everything he did seemed to register in your brain as something of the utmost importance. Especially when he was touching you like it came naturally to him.
“You do not have to do this if you do not want to,” he said firmly, his eyes as serious as ever, “And if you ever want to stop, say Iceberg, understood? None of this will ever affect the way I see you at work.”
You nodded briefly, taking a moment to find your voice. “Understood … sir.”
The corners of his mouth quirked up and his hand smoothed from your shoulder to the very low of your back as you stepped into the small space. “Good girl, let me know when you are ready.”
Your pussy practically throbbed at his words but before you could do anything to embarrass you, he had left you alone, the curtain pulled between you.
When you were alone, you were highly aware that he could still hear you. Still, it afforded you a few precious moments to look at yourself in the mirror and realize that holy shit Aaron Hotchner wanted … something with you. And even if you were not sure what that specific something was, yet, you knew it would be more than worth it.
You rushed to get out of your silk dress and shoes, even going so far as to slip out of your underwear. If there was any time to be brazen it was now.
The piece Hotch had so rightly picked out was a mint green lacey two-piece with a kind of corset bra and high-waisted panties. It looked like the kind of thing one might see on a giant billboard or on a suggested Instagram post. It made you feel like you could have the kind of life where you surprised your (non-existent) boyfriend with some new lingerie or where said boyfriend would take you on a weekend trip to luxurious hotels with good food and even better sex.
Putting on the bra was easy enough but looking at that plastic sticker inside the bottoms made you hesitant. You really did not want to put them on without them having had at least one laundry cycle.
“You decent?”
Granted, he had given you enough time to get out of your clothes. But in your half-dressed predicament, you panicked and threw the panties back onto the hanger. There was no way you were going to try them on like this.
“Kinda,” you replied, feeling a little insecure but also figuring that whatever he wanted to do with you, you would not need panties for that anyway.
In the mirror, you could see the curtain moving and you turned around, facing him.
Aaron Hotchner was way too big in that little entrance of the small space. The dark colour of his suit bled into the dark velvet curtain and his hand looked way too big, the way he gripped that little piece of curtain. He was so close, you felt crowded but also like he was not close enough. Like you needed him closer still.
He did not say anything but just looked at you. His silence made you nervous and you shifted on your feet, crossing your arms in front of your chest and the apex of your thighs.
“Don’t.”
You let your arms fall again.
He remained silent but you watched as his dark eyes took you in. His mouth was in a straight line and you could spot the five-o’clock shadow setting in on his cheeks and jaw. You wondered what it would be like to kiss him like this. His brows were furrowed like he was displeased and for a moment you were afraid he was displeased by you. By your appearance.
Then he met your eyes.
“Do you have any idea how much self-control I invest every fucking day not to bend you over my desk and make you come seven ways till Sunday?”
Hearing him curse (You had made Aaron Hotchner curse, nobody was ever going to believe you.) was such a surprise, it took you a moment to register everything else he said.
“I – I am sorry?” you offered.
“Don’t be,” he murmured, taking a step towards you. The curtain fell closed behind him, leaving you two completely cut off from the world. “When I see you like this, it is more than worth it.”
Your breath caught in your throat. “What happened on the plane …”
“… is definitely something I would like to repeat,” he finished your thought, “If that wasn’t clear before.”
“I – I didn’t think you noticed me like this,” you confessed.
“You’re a good profiler,” his finger brushed over your cheek and he tilted his head, “You really did not notice?”
With wide eyes, you shook your head.
He smirked, “Maybe because you were too busy hiding how needy you were.”
He leant forward, then, his breath ghosting over your face and you were sure you had never been more nervous. The scent of his cologne was in your nose, his neck was so close, all you wanted to do was to reach out and loosen his tie.
And so you did.
“I don’t think I was that needy,” you tried to protest before pressing a kiss to his jaw. The stubble scratched your lips but that only added to the excitement in you. A low rumbling sound came from his chest and you gasped in surprise when he pulled you back, keeping his hand on the back of your neck so you had to look up at him.
His mouth brushed yours in a half-kiss and you could see a twinkle in his eyes. “Well, I’d like to think there were some obvious signs.”
He let his fingers wander down your cheek to your neck before they ghosted over the lace of the bra. Your nipples pebbled at his attention, the lace just adding to the pleasant sensation, and his mouth quirked up in that half-smile again. “Like when I could see your nipples get hard when I was with you in that elevator.”
“That – that was one time,” you protested weakly, arching your back so he could touch you more.
He hummed, “Maybe. But all I wanted to do was this.” His thumb brushed over your nipple again and again until all you could do was squirm against him, trying not to beg him to finally fuck you.
But even in your precarious situation, Aaron Hotchner did not make the impression of a hurried man. His eyes flicked from your chest to your face, completely mesmerized by the reaction he got out of you. And you could tell he liked it when he rolled your nipples between his fingers and your knees buckled when he pulled on them.
“Not to mention that time you sucked my cock on a plane,” he reminded you in a low voice and you could feel the heat rise into your cheeks, both from arousal and embarrassment, “I have dreamed of all the things I could do to you. Have you warm my cock in the office, suck my cock under the desk, hell, maybe keep you in bed all weekend long and make you come until you can only say my name …”
There was a very prominent bulge pressed against your hips, confirming these fantasies turned him on just as much as you and that only fuelled your fire. You let your head fall back, your eyes closed as you tried to imagine yourself just as he had described. Sitting in his lap in his office, feeling him inside you while he worked? That sounded like a dream.
Using the exposure of your skin, Hotch dropped his mouth to your neck, kissing and licking and sucking and just making you feel oh so good. It was so easy to just wrap your arms around his neck and pull yourself closer to him.
When he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot, you gasped out a moan, immediately trying to cut the sound off for fear of the chatty cashier hearing you.
His hands continued their exploration of your body and landed on your ass, effectively grinding you against his cock. Your core pulsed, everything in your body thrumming with desire. You knew how big he was, you knew what he looked like and how heavy he was. The sheer idea of feeling him inside you made you feel absolutely shameless.
Which meant there was still one thing you needed to address before there was no going back.
“There are still cameras here,” you whispered against him, panting when he rolled his hips against yours again. Gosh, he was big.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, just as quietly, and without hesitation, you nodded.
“Then I will take care of it.”
And that was all he needed to say.
Feeling encouraged, you let your hands wander and cupped him through the front of his pants. You could feel the weight and the size of him and a new wave of wetness rushed down your thighs.
Hotch groaned low in your ear, a sound that was even better when he made it just for you. His hand landed on yours, making you massage him through his clothes.
“You were so good for me on the plane,” he murmured in your ear, his other hand kneading the soft flesh of your ass, “Felt like a dream come true having you on your knees for me.”
You did not say anything. Both because you could not say anything and because you wanted to hear what he had to say. Hotch was always such a closed-off person, to hear him speak to you so tenderly and so openly … It made you feel like you needed to keep it close to your chest and cherish it.
“Always had the suspicion there was something bubbling under the surface of the good girl you were pretending to be,” he continued kissing his way down your neck until you could feel his teeth tugging on the bra strap. “But there is nothing quite like finding out you were a good girl all along … but only for me.”
He straightened up to his full height. You had always been impressed by how big of a man he really was (and how good he looked in a suit) but now it seemed even more intense.
Because Aaron Hotchner’s dark eyes were staring right into your soul when he asked, “And you are a good girl for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.”
And then he kissed you.
It was passionate and hard and he dominated the kiss so easily, it just made you melt into him even more. His lips were soft and a contrast to the stubble you could feel on his chin. His teeth tugged on your bottom lip, then, and you gasped, following him until he let it fall away.
He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your neck, “Now put your hands against the wall so I can inspect that little pussy. I bet you’re already wet for me, hm?”
Never in your life had you moved so fast.
And he was right, f course. When his fingers rubbed over your cunt, you were embarrassingly wet already. But you could not care less. Not when you were about to be fucked by the one man you had been pining after for months.
You squeaked when a spank landed on your ass, “I’m gonna buy this and so much more just to see you wear it,” he growled, his fingers rubbing over your folds, seeking out your clit, “Just to fuck you in it.”
“Will you fuck me now?”
“That depends,” he murmured, pushing a single finger inside you, “Can you be quiet for me?”
You bit your lip so hard, you were half-expecting to have drops of blood running down your chin. The truth was you did not know but you knew you could try for him. You would try everything for him.
Your eager nod was rewarded with a kiss to your shoulder blade and his fingers went back to circling your clit before dipping inside you again. He hummed, clearly pleased at that and you arched into him, wanting to feel more of him.
The man behind your continued playing with you for what felt like an eternity. Your inner thighs were smeared with your slick, you were sure, and when he pressed his crotch against your ass, you could feel his hard-on distinctly.
“Fuck,” he hissed, adding a second finger as he thrust inside you, “Can you feel how your little pussy is gripping me? It is so so empty without someone filling it, isn’t it?”
“Feels so good, sir,” you whimpered, “Please don’t stop.”
“Oh, stopping is the last thing I am going to do,” he chuckled, his lips brushing over your lobe, “Don’t worry, I am going to take care of you. After all, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t take care of my little whore?”
His words echoed in your mind and settled in your core. He did not say it like an insult, he said it like an endearment. Like he was praising you. And you craved it. You wanted him to call you his, you wanted him to call you anything he wanted to as long as you would be his good girl. Because you know, you just knew, he would reward you for it.
“You really just need an older man to make you come on his cock, huh?” he asked you, his cold belt buckle digging into your ass. His fingers pulled out of you and you pushed your hips back, trying to keep him inside you for as long as you could, the loss of his touch making you whimper.
But then you could feel him undoing his zipper and the anticipation built in your core.
“Uh-huh,” you nodded, pushing out your ass, “’m your whore, sir.”
Your walls squeezed around nothing and, then, finally, you could feel his hand on your inner thigh, pushing your legs apart.
“Deep breath, it’s gonna be a big stretch,” he warned you, rubbing the tip of his cock over your folds. The tingling sensation spread from your core all throughout your body until you could feel it in the tips of your fingers.
Said deep breath get caught in your throat when he pushed inside you.
Hotch was big. You had known that already. But there was a difference between feeling him make your jaw go sore and feeling your walls stretch to accommodate him. He went with slow, small thrusts at first. The kind that allowed you to get used to his size and the kind that made you want him to go deeper and faster and just –
“More,” you did not recognize your own voice, “Please, sir, more.”
“You’re greedy,” he replied smoothly, his hands gripping your hips, “Begging for more as if it isn’t enough having your boss fuck you in public.”
You tried to hold back the whimper but did not quite succeed. But it was sheer impossible to remain quiet when he thrust inside you with control and such precision it made your toes curl. He was large and hit a spot you had not even known existed.
It was even better than you imagined. And you had imagined it a lot …
“C’mon smile into the camera for me,” he angled your head up, face to face with the lens of the camera in the corner. Your adrenaline spiked and despite wanting to pretend like it did not turn you on that someone could just see you absolutely getting wrecked, you could not control the way your walls clenched around him.
“Thought as much,” Hotch rumbled behind you, one hand coming around to your front and finding your clit again, “Got myself the perfect little cock slut.”
“’m gonna come,” you gasped when he tapped your clit, “Sir, please, I –“
“Please what?” he mocked you, his hips snapping against yours, “Don’t forget your manners or I’ll have to punish you.”
The thought of him punishing you almost pushed you over the edge but Aaron Hotchner was right. You were a good girl …
“Please, sir,” you gasped, “Please let me come. PleasepleasepleaseIwannacome –”
He quickened his pace, his cock driving into you again and again while his fingers circled your clit. His lips pressed against the spot under your ear and you pushed back against him, trying to meet his thrusts, trying to get closer to him.
“You can come,” he whispered, his big hand coming up to cup your jaw, “You can come on my cock, right now.”
“You too,” you gasped, trying everything to hold on to that feeling that was just out of reach, just beyond that cliff that you were hurling towards, “You come, too, sir, please, in-inside me.”
“Fuck,” he cursed behind you, his hips stuttering, “You really want that? Want me to fill you up with my come? Think that would tide you over for a while until I can have you sitting on my cock again?”
“Uh huh,” you nodded eagerly, your fingertips flexing against the wall, barely listening to a word he was saying because it only took a couple more thrusts until you came around him.
Hotch swallowed your moan with a kiss and you gripped onto his forearms, anything to keep you standing and somewhat lucid. Everything was a blur and your body felt like it was convulsing and relaxing at the same time. You had never come so hard in your life, you hardly even noticed when he groaned into your ear, his hips stilling against yours as he filled you up. Just like he had promised.
Your heart beat so fast in your chest, you could hear it in your ears and you were pretty sure Hotch could hear it too. But he did not comment on it. Instead, his hand went from your jaw to your chest, softly grazing over the green lace.
“Good fucking girl,” he rumbled, “Knew you would be such a good girl for me and only me.”
Hotch kissed you again, softer this time, and you allowed yourself to properly breathe. “You okay?” he asked you quietly, his hands smoothing over your hips, “Was I too rough?”
You shook your head. “No, it’s just … it’s a lot,” you whispered, closing your eyes to try and slow your breathing, “And – and we need to be back at the station soon.”
“That we do,” he agreed and carefully pulled out of you. You winced at the sensation, feeling his come dripping down your thighs almost immediately. Before you could even worry about leaving any evidence on the carpet, you heard some rustling and then a soft handkerchief was at the mess between your legs, cleaning you up.
You turned your head, finding Hotch kneeling behind you with that furrow between his brows again.
“You look angry a lot.”
You did not know where your words had come from but hell, you might as well run with it now.
The dark-haired man looked up at you, looking unusually amused. “I suppose it might look like that to some.”
When he pulled away and you felt somewhat taken care of, you turned around and grabbed your clothes. Hotch remained standing there with you, his
“Then what is it, really?” you asked him as you slipped your dress over your head. The fabric covered your vision and when you could see again, Aaron was standing again, looking at you with a genuine smile and a twinkle in his eyes.
Damn him for being so handsome.
“I am focused,” he replied, his hand landing on your hip to support you as you slipped back into your shoes. Your hand landed on his forearm, his hand gripping your elbow, keeping you steady.
“Focused on what?”
“On you.”
Your hand froze on his arm. “Oh.”
Suddenly, he was closer again. Standing chest to chest, you could not help but look at his mouth because it was right there and his lips looked so soft and what if this was the moment? What if you could kiss him again and –
“Yeah,” he echoed, his nose brushing against yours, “Oh.”
His mouth ghosted over yours and you closed the distance, kissing him just as softly as he had done before. He did not wait to reciprocate and with his hand still under your elbow, he pulled you flush against him.
He opened his mouth but in a cruel twist of fate, his phone rang and he pulled away. An annoyed exhale left him and you could feel the disappointment when he picked it up. “What’s up Morgan?” he asked, his eyes still on you. his thumb brushed back and forth on your hip and you smiled, feeling elated and excited and so … so …
“Yeah, we’re on our way,” he said sharply, “I thought of getting us some lunch. Have the others text me their order and I will pick it up.”
And with that, he ended the call.
“Picking up lunch, huh?” you teased him, “How very generous of you, Agent Hotchner.”
“What can I say,” he smiled, opening the curtain for you, “I am in an exceptionally good mood today.”
*
When you returned to the main room of the boutique, the woman was still talking on the phone, not paying any mind to you. Relief filled you at the realization that she really had not noticed. Thank goodness because while it was the experience of a lifetime, you would have surely died of embarrassment.
Hotch’s hand burned at the low of your back but this time it did not cause any anxiety. This time it felt like both of you knew it belonged there.
He led you to the register, the woman only interrupting her conversation long enough to glance at both of you, looking very unimpressed.
“My name is Agent Hotchner, FBI,” he said, showing his badge, “We are on an active investigation. I am afraid I need to confiscate your security footage from the last 12 hours.”
“Also,” he added, putting the two-piece on the counter, “We would like to purchase this.”
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little-diable · 5 months
Text
A complicated man – Professor Aaron Hotchner (Profiling 101 Series, Part 5/?)
Chapter five, here we go! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader enrolls in professor Hotchner's class "Profiling 101", a man she has always looked up to, a man who treats her like an asshole from day one. Will her need for academic validation manage to push the two closer together? Will her bright mind push her into the world of Aaron Hotchner and the BAU team? Will he manage to keep his distance before the world he tries to protect her from can get its grasp on her?
Warnings: 18+, some heated making out, Aaron is a big asshole in this, mentions some typical CM violence
Pairing: Professor!Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader (2.3k words)
Profiling 101 Series Masterlist
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Six
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“Yes, Emily, I am on my way. I promised you I’ll show up, didn’t I?” A tired sigh left (y/n) as she watched the houses and streets blurr by, being driven to the BAU. Her heart was aching, mind racing, still hooked onto her last conversation with Aar- Professor Hotchner.
She wasn’t proud to admit that she had cried through most parts of that night, cursing herself, but mostly cursing the older man. Deep down she had expected the situation to go south, very well aware of his stoic self and the lines both had crossed.
And yet a small, pathetic part of herself had believed that everything would work out, that he’d want her as much as she wanted him. Fuck, how foolish she had been, how naive she had been, all because of a man who was almost twice her age. A man who should be more mature than how the professor was acting at the moment. 
Emily had called her a few days later, quietly begging (y/n) to find her way to the BAU, since JJ was sick and they were desperate for any help they could get. It hadn’t taken much convincing, even though (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder how crossing paths with him would play out. 
The brown haired agent was waiting for (y/n) to arrive, smiling at the young woman with a visitor’s badge already in her hand. Both shared a bit of small talk as they made their way upstairs, momentarily managing to distract (y/n) from her nervousness. But the second they stepped into the office, (y/n)’s blood ran cold, eyes instantly drawn to Aaron Hotchner’s dark ones.
An expression of confusion, annoyance, and anger crossed his features, instantly forcing the young woman to slow down the speed of her steps. Of course Emily hadn’t told the others about her plan, a fact (y/n) shouldn’t have been surprised about, and yet her insides didn’t stop churning. 
“(Y/n)! It’s so good to see you.” Penelope was the first to break the few awkward seconds of silence, pulling the young woman into her grasp as Derek and Spencer also stepped closer. She tried to stop her eyes from searching his as her professor growled a loud “Prentiss, a word please”, but the second he had turned away, her eyes had snapped towards his frame once again.
“We missed you, sweetheart, you’re just the woman we need on this case.” Derek’s sweet words managed to make a smile tug on (y/n)’s lips, a smile that grew even bigger as Spencer quickly hugged her, and as Rossi squeezed her shoulder. But there was no time left to exchange any further pleasantries, falling quiet as the two others stepped back into the room. 
“Alright, let’s focus on our case. Reid and Morgan, I need you to go back to the crime scenes, go through the events that have happened, maybe we missed something. Rossi and I will talk to the people who worked at the slaughterhouse. Prentiss and (y/n) talk to the families again, dig deeper with Garcia's help."
……
“Why didn’t you tell him?” (Y/n)’s voice filled the car, fingers wrapped around her hot drink as Emily drove them back to the BAU. With a sigh leaving the agent she let her eyes flicker towards (y/n), taking in the sad expression the young woman couldn’t shake off.
“Listen, I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but he knows that we need you, we shouldn’t let go of this chance to have you on the team. But I knew he’d be too stubborn.” A laugh left the both in unison, momentarily taking some weight off (y/n)’s shoulders. “Do you want to tell me what went down between you two?”
“You can’t tell this to anybody, I need you to promise.” A hum left Emily, wordlessly promising that she wouldn’t spill (y/n)’s secret. “We, uhm, that night where we went to that bar and he picked me up, I stayed at his place. The next morning we did some things, but then he was called back to the BAU, and it was as if the switch had been flicked, he was such an asshole to me. Fuck, I’ve been crushing on him for so long and was so happy that something had finally happened, but now - I don’t know, Emily.”
It took the older agent a few moments to ponder over (y/n)’s words, letting the story sink in before she shared her perspective on Aaron’s behaviour. 
“He’s been hurt a lot in the past years, I can’t tell you what goes on inside his head, but I think he’s scared. He is clearly into you, we can all tell, but he’s your professor too, and probably your future boss. Aaron is very compliant to rules, I’d say he’s currently fighting some inner battle.”
(Y/n) didn’t know what to do with Emily’s insight, didn’t know how to accept the truth the woman had just shared. Her heart was pounding, and yet it was weighed down by what had happened, unable to shake off the worries clouding her mind. Aaron Hotchner had her trapped, perhaps without fully realising what he was doing to her with the way he kept behaving.
……
“Let’s recap what we got so far.” Aaron's voice boomed through the room, drawing all eyes to his tall frame. With one hand he smoothed his tie, eyes focusing on the picture he was holding, avoiding (y/n)’s eyes at every cost. “We know that our unsub stabbed our victim in the slaughterhouse, but the victim tried to escape, making it about a block before our unsub stabbed him again and finally killed the man. His stomach was cut open and he was beheaded, the head was left at another man’s house. Prentiss, (y/n), anything you can tell us?”
Emily’s eyes met (y/n)’s, wordlessly encouraging the young woman to speak up, leaving her to clear her throat before she took over, “Nothing we weren’t already aware of, but to me it seems like this was about a love interest that connects our victim to our unsub.”
“We first need to rule out other options before we take that route.” It felt as if Aaron’s words cut through her skin, almost forcing bile to rise in (y/n)’s throat. His eyes were cold, now staring at her as if she was their unsub, interrogated by every single member of the team.
“But why? If I remember correctly you didn’t deny my theory the last time you presented this case in class, what changed?” The unfamiliar undertone of her voice even managed to surprise (y/n) herself, not used to hearing herself speaking this coldly, challenging the man. She was too focused on him to pay attention to the others, not feeling their curious eyes on her, wondering how this would play out. 
“If I were you I’d watch my tone, (y/n), you’re not part of this team, and if you keep on behaving like this, you’ll never be. Either accept my decisions or leave, I certainly won’t stop you from doing so, you’d all do us a favour.” A silent gasp ripped through (y/n), followed by the sound of David Rossi warningly murmuring Aaron’s name. For a second neither of them moved, till (y/n) pushed her chair back, rising to her feet with a trembling “Excuse me” leaving her. They watched her leave the room, back turned to them as she moved towards the bathroom.
(Y/n) had to blink her tears away, not wanting to give Aaron the satisfaction of crying over his hurtful words. A few deep exhales left her as she stepped into the bathroom, both hands placed down on the cold sink, trying to calm herself. She couldn’t tell what she was feeling, torn between anger, embarrassment, and heartbreak, hearing him speak to her like that had felt like daggers being pierced into her heart, tearing her last strings of hope. 
“(Y/n)?” Her eyes snapped up towards the mirror, finding Aaron’s frowning features. Without speaking another word, he stepped into the small bathroom, locking the door behind himself. She watched him approach, only turning towards him as he came to a halt in front of her. (Y/n) didn’t dare move as his warm hand slowly cupped her warm cheek, didn’t dare move as a deep sigh left the tall man, eyes burning straight through hers. “I’m sorry.”
“Well, there’s nothing to be sorry for, if that’s how you feel I guess. I don’t understand you, and frankly speaking, I no longer want to. You’re too old for these childish games, professor.” His frown deepened, but he didn’t pull back, kept holding her as (y/n) rambled on. “You played me, but hey, I guess you got what you wanted, huh? It was easy, too easy, but you should know that breaking my heart-” 
She didn’t get to speak another word, shut up by his lips finding hers, silencing the young woman with a heated kiss. Almost instantly her hands found his dark hair, tugging on the roots to pull him even closer. (Y/n) melted against him, eyes fluttering close to relish in the feeling his touch elicited. 
With a gasp leaving her, (y/n) found herself pressed against the sink, small of her back coming in contact with the cold metal. The sounds he drew from her left the man smirking, tongue fighting hers to once again prove the power he held over her. She was his puppet, allowing him to toy with her how he pleased, pushing and pulling her around without caring about what he was doing to her – at least that’s what he wanted her to believe, not speaking on his true feelings. 
“Fuck, Aaron.” His name slipped from her lips as he kissed his way down her throat, hands finding her behind, squeezing the soft flesh. Both were panting, riled up by the still somewhat unfamiliar touches. And yet neither of them wanted to escape this very moment, finding comfort in the racing beats of their hearts, in the heavy breaths leaving one another. 
“I wish I could understand what you’re making me feel, but I can’t.” He kissed her once again, urgency dripped from his words, making her toes curl in excitement. But (y/n)’s mind was still hooked onto his words, wondering what he meant by them, ripping her out of her blissful state. Slowly she parted from him, hands placed on his chest, forcing them to give into the once again growing distance.
Aaron’s lips were just as swollen as hers, pupils dilated with lust swimming in them, but the glance she threw at him seemed to prepare him for the words that were about to roll off her tongue. With a sigh clawing through him, Aaron let go of (y/n), taking another step away from her.
“I don’t get you, I don’t get what you are trying to do, what you want me to do. You need to figure that out before you toss me around like that again. Do us both a favour and come clean with your feelings. Till then I’ll step away from this case, and the team. I can’t be around you, if you keep acting like that.” Wordlessly he watched her leave, not throwing one glance back at the heavily sighing man. 
……
The sound of her keys being tossed to the small side table placed near her door echoed through (y/n)’s dark apartment. Her heart was heavy, shoulders slouched, clearly projecting the emotional chaos she was fighting against. Deep down she had hoped that he’d stop her from leaving, coming clean with his feelings right there and then, but she knew him better than that, all too aware of the struggles he was fighting against.
She didn’t bother to light her apartment, glassy eyes unable to focus on anything as she poured herself a glass of water, drowning the sips one by one. Exhaustion clung to her, body tormented by the battle she kept fighting, hoping that she’d eventually get out of this very mess. 
A groan ripped through (y/n) as she pressed her forehead against her kitchen counter, palms pressed flat against the cold surface. Fuck, she’d do whatever she could to get rid of her longing for Aaron Hotchner, the man who had claimed her heart all these years ago. Nothing would manage to break the spell, chaining her to him as if she was the Titanic itself, sinking to the dark ocean ground without any help coming her way. 
Her exhausted body carried (y/n) to her bedroom, plopping down on the mattress the second her phone beeped, gaining her attention. (Y/n) reached for it with another yawn clawing its way through her throat, a sound that got stuck in her throat the second her eyes focused on the message that had been sent to her, from an unfamiliar number. 
It took (y/n) a few seconds to take in the picture that had been sent to her, some blurry screenshot that pictured a kissing couple. A gasp left (y/n) as her mind finally realised that it was a picture of her and Aaron, lips locked in the bathroom at the BAU. Attached to the picture was a short message, words that left the young woman shuddering. 
“You’re mine, you belong to me, (y/n). Now you’ll have to pay for betraying me with him.”
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slvt4em1lyprenti2s · 4 months
Text
Sweetheart
Summary: Emily and you have had tension for a while, and she's always had a soft spot for you and while at her apartment true feeling come to light.
Word Count: 1.2k
Fluff, slight angst, kissing
Pairings: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader
!NOT PROOFREAD!
Legal but significant age gap
(a/n: omfg this is so shit i'm so sorry)
Emily's pov:
"Wait you like her!?" JJ asked me for the millionth time since I told her since I told her I had a crush on the new agent that joined the team. Her name is Y/n Y/l/n, she's perfect. Her laugh is captivating and simply angelic, she's got such a lovely personality that just pulls me in, and she's so goddamn gorgeous.
"Yes, JJ I like her." I'm starting to think telling her wasn't a good idea.
"Oh you so have to ask her out!" JJ squealed in delight.
"Are you insane!? She's like half my age and my subordinate jayj, I can't do that!" My face starts to heat up just thinking about telling her.
"Okay we'll please, think about it! She definitely likes you back em I promise you that much. Before you even try to argue, have you seen the way she looks at you? She's basically in love!" JJ's smile was infectious, naturally I started smiling as well (and because I can't think about y/n/n and not smile).
"I'll think about it okay? Deal?" She looked happy with that answer as she began to leave my office.
"Oh and JJ please could you get everyone into the meeting room, we have a case." I asked politely.
"Yeah of course." She smiled as she closed the door.
I let out a sigh and actually thought about the deal I had just made. I'm going to have to talk to her before JJ (and most likely Garcia and Tara at this point) get to her first. 
I leave my office and go to the round table where everyone is slowly filing in.
"Hello my furry friends, we -clearly- have a case!" Garcia says, her usual chirpy voice echoing through the room. "There has been a serial killer targeting specifically lesbian couples right here in Virginia." Damn. This is going to be a long case.
Time skip to when they've arrived
Reader pov:
Jeez, this case hits way too close to home. Just let us girls love girls. You know?
"Okay, Tara, Rossi you go to the first scene and see what you can find, Derek, JJ and Reid go to the local PD set up and talk to the families, Y/l/n you're with me, we're going to the second scene." Everyone scrambled off to their respective SUV's as we got off the jet.
Just the thought of being alone with Emily was making me nervous. She's so amazing in every way, her smile, her laugh, her nose, her personality. She's perfect. And her hair, the grey hair is doing something to me. But she's my boss and she's older than me and ugh, it'll never happen. Emily always been really close to me though, staying late to help me with paperwork, talks over coffee at lunch, her hand grazing over my back, our fingertips brushing as she hands me a file... I know I'm reading too far into it but I wasn't.
"You ready?" Her soft voice snaps me out of my trance.
"Yeah, I'm ready." I smile at her as we get in the car. I sit down and she looks over at me, making my cheeks flush a light pink.
"You alright?" Emily asked, gently placing her hand on my thigh. My cheeks flush and even deeper red at that simple touch and she seems to cotton on. This is going to be a long day.
"Yea-yeah I'm fine don't even worry" I see her lips pull up into a smirk as we begin to drive, she doesn't show any sign of moving her hand so I just let her be, enjoying the feeling of her warm touch.
Time skip to after the case (cba to write a case sry)
"Hey you." Emily said as she came up behind me and trailed her fingers over my lower back as she came to stand beside me.
"Hey, you okay?" She smiles at me and my knees almost buckle right then and there.
"Yeah I'm okay sweetheart are you?" Oh. My. God. The nickname, you see that puddle on the floor? That's me.
"I'm good." My cheeks flush a crimson colour as she pressed her fingers against my face.
"You're feeling a bit warm, you sure you're okay? Actually don't answer that, you're going to say yes not matter what. You're coming to mine tonight." This wasn't an uncommon occurrence as she's always been protective over me.
"I'm not sick I promise." I say slightly embarrassed because she's the reason my cheeks are so warm.
"Okay but you're still coming to mine, okay?"
"Not gunna argue with that."
"Good, you shouldn't."
We both gather our stuff and get in the car to drive to Emily's.
Time skip to when they're at Emily's
I walk into her apartment and put down my bag, turning to face em.
"What? Do I have something on my face?" She laughed as she spoke.
"No, no. You're fine." I smiled as I shamelessly studied her features, not bothering to hide anymore.
"Honey come on, why are you staring?" She moved closer as she said this holding her hands on my hips and gently guiding me closer to her.
"You're just so beautiful em." I mutter, my breath fanning over her face.
"Oh sweetheart please don't do this to me, I want you so bad but we both know it can't happen. I'm your boss and, I'm so much older than you." She bent forward and placed our foreheads together.
"Emily please-" she interrupts me,
"No love, I want nothing more than to be with you but be realistic. I'll get old faster than you and you'll loose interest and then.." I don't let her finish as I smash my lips onto hers.
My head is spinning as her lips glide over mine in perfect sync. My hand threads through her silver hair and rugs her closet to me, her tongue grazes my bottom lip asking for entrance and I grant her exactly what she wants. Her tongue slips effortlessly into my mouth and she instantly takes control of the kiss. She backs me into a wall and holds one hand on my waist and the other holding my cheek.
We pull away after a while and she still doesn't look like she thinks this can go anywhere.
"Why won't you let me love you?" Tears well up in my eyes, I was trying not to be too emotional but the fact that Emily was denying herself live and happiness because she thought she wasn't good enough broke my heart.
"Oh my love, please don't cry, I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry, just let me love you em, please."
"Okay."
"Really?"
I pull her into my embrace and she taps the back of my thighs signalling for me to jump. I'm now clinging onto her koala style, still against the wall, and her head is buried in my shoulder, I'm placing tender kisses along her hairline, telling her how much Ill take care of her and how much I love her.
"I love you."
"I love you too sweetheart."
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midnghtprentiss · 11 months
Text
dating emily prentiss - headcons
pairing: ssa emily prentiss x pediatrician!femreader
warnings: fluff content, sugestive smut, cm horrors (children abuse), emily being a softie
no descriptions of hair, skin color, body shape
i'm thinking about making this idea a series. what you guys think?
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You meet Emily for the first time because of Hotch. She drove him and Jack to your office in the middle of the night 'cause the poor child had a bad fever. She wasn't expecting to find you. Pink scrub with flowers and bees all over it, white shoes and a funny tiara in your hair. 
"Dr. Y/L/N. This is my coworker Emily, she drove us here." You nod, taking a quick glance at her. 
"Nice to meet you, Emily. Shall we go Jack?" 
That was the first time she was hypnotized by a woman like you. How you treated Hotch and especially Jack. She wouldn't mind spending hours watching you work. 
The second time she saw you was during a case. They were rescuing abused children and the pediatrician the BAU chose was you. Reid, Morgan and Emily stayed at the clinic while you did your best to save those children.
"Excuse me. My team stabilized four of the seven children, they're severely dehydrated and malnourished. With the right work and care everything will be alright." You lead them to the rooms. "If you're going to make them talk, be gentle and calm. No loud voices and movements. Remember, these children just experienced a lifetime trauma. If you need me I'll be in the other room."
"Yes ma'am." Emily answered quickly and received a smirk from Morgan. 
"Ask her out, Prentiss, don't be so shy." 
"That's inappropriate Derek, we are working." 
She asked you out after the case was over. She stopped by at your work to thank you for your help and asked if you wanted to have a coffee next time you're free.
You learned that Emily was addicted to coffee, that she loves fudge brownies and most of her clothes have cat hair. You were so entertained by the way she rambled and how her brown eyes sparkled when she got excited.  She laughed at your 'no sex on the first date' — you failed so bad. When both of you noticed you were breathing heavily in Emily's car. 
"I don't know why that's funny. This rule used to work every time." You gave her a look.
"I'm just too hot for this waiting thing and you weren't even complaining thirty minutes ago!"
The months were passing and you two got very involved. Phone calls when she's away, dinner at her or your place, waking up tangled in the sheets. The schedules work just fine, the cases were longer like your shifts. There wasn't pressure on labeling the relationship that was building, but was serious. This woman had you wrapped around her finger.
Long phone calls or voicemails when she's at her hotel room.
"Hey, I can't even imagine how rough the shift is today. The case is evolving to the right direction, we got different clues today and are close to catching the unsub. I saw a bookstore next to the precinct with the book you told me about, so I bought it to discuss with you on the next date. Reid said the book is fantastic and he told me a lot of curiosities about the author, can't wait to tell you everything. Anyway, call me when you can. I miss you." 
She surprises you with your favorite food when she picks you up at work. You commented that you wanted to eat sushi and the next day she showed up with sushi just for you. Or when you slept at hers she makes your favorite breakfast (with Rossi on the phone just to make sure she's not giving you food poisoning).
Emily is a morning person, you're not. Waking up with this woman looking like a golden retriever, walking around, rambling and trying to make you wake up. 
"You know Ems, if you're doing this to get into my panties you are not getting. Let me sleep." 
"It's a beautiful day, sugar. Let 's go!" She comes closer, stroking your messy hair.
"I hate you so much." You looked at her with the most evil smirk ever. 
When she started to think about the idea of marriage, kids and white picket fence she almost had a stroke. She changed her whole life plan since she met you. The idea of a love that is so light and free wasn't even a real thing in her head. The greatest part of her day was talking to you, thinking of you. You were the reason she was more caucareful at the field, she was being more open about her feelings to her closest friends. 
Girls night!!!!!!! Penelope and you bond right away. She was so excited to see the girl that was making Emily look like a love pudding.
"You are so made for each other, look at that! The way she looks at you!" 
"Penny, calm down!" You drunkenly laugh at her and pass your arm around your girlfriend.
"I think we should get shots for this moment. Y/N help me!" You give Emily a kiss on the cheek and follow Penelope. 
"How do you feel?" J.J asked Emily that answer with the brightest smile.
"I am in love with that woman and it hurts that she has no idea of how much it is." 
"She feels the same way, the lovesick gave. I'm happy you found your half." 
"I bought a ring." Dead silence between them. 
"What? Oh my God!" 
"Keep this down, ok? I'm waiting for the right moment and right now it's not. Hotch went with me and yeah, that's it." 
You slowly moved with Emily and started to have a life together. You share bills, you do chores together, buy things together. Even adopted another cat. Life was amazing, couldn't be better. Until the day she proposed.
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sprinkler-ashes · 8 months
Text
king of my heart // aaron hotchner x reader
king of my heart
pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
words: 1.9k
warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, sexual implication
description: in which emily prentiss finally puts the pieces together one night. inspired by king of my heart by taylor swift and that one scene in tsitp (“it’s too sweet” and “i thought cocoa was your speciality”)
a/n: writing this from emily’s pov was so much fun!! this is a simple and fun fic, but i loved writing it. expect lots of fics coming from me in the next couple days/weeks because i literally can’t stop writing. much love and happy reading <3
up on the roof with a school girl crush
drinking beer out of plastic cups
say you fancy me, not fancy stuff
baby, all at once, this is enough
Emily Prentiss liked to think of herself as your best friend.
The two of you had instantly hit it off from the moment you started working with the BAU only six short months ago. She took you under her wing, showed you around, and helped you get acquainted with a new work environment. From the first day you started, the friendship began and the rest was history.
In addition to thinking that you and her were best friends, she also liked to think very highly of herself in terms of being a profiler. She saw things. She could read body language. She knew things just from observations.
However, as she sat back into her seat at the bar, her eyes fluttering from one team member to another, Emily couldn’t help but feel like she was missing something when it came to you – specifically relationship-wise. She didn’t like to call herself a nosy person, but she definitely was.
It was a Saturday night, and the team had decided to go out for drinks in celebration of finally catching an unsub that was particularly difficult. The team was currently separated at the moment with you, Emily, JJ, and Garcia talking on your own at the table, Derek was on the floor trying to hook Spencer up with a girl, and Rossi and Hotch were chatting by the bar while waiting for their drinks.
Emily wasn’t sure how many drinks you’d had. You weren’t stumbling drunk, but it was evident you were under the influence.
“Emily, you have to try this,” you told her after you tried the drink in your hand. “It’s so good. I would marry this drink if I could.”
“I’m good, but thanks,” she replied to you. “That looks… interesting.”
Emily could always get down with a cute and fun drink, but she was so confused as to what you were drinking. It was pink with specks of blue, and the rim of the glass was covered in what looked like some kind of blue sugar with a small umbrella for decoration.
You laughed. “I have no idea what it is, but it’s so good. It’s called the Boozy Bee.”
Emily cocked an eyebrow. “The Boozy Bee?”
“Yes,” you said, pausing to take a sip of your drink. “Created by the bartender whose name I learned is Beatrice. You can’t even taste the alcohol, Em.”
She laughed. “That’s the most dangerous kind. Take it easy, Boozy.”
“Let her get her booze on, Emily.” Derek Morgan had sauntered over, a signature grin on his face. “If you will all turn your attention over to the left, look what I did.”
Emily turned her head to find resident genius Spencer Reid, who looked to be in an uncomfortable situation, talking to a very pretty girl. She had to laugh. Spencer was a great guy. Any girl would be lucky to be with him, but the poor guy didn’t know that.
“How long until he pulls out his magic tricks?” Emily joked.
You nudged her, your lips sucking on the black straw that was in your drink before putting it down. “Spencer is a total sweetheart. And magic is hot – don’t diss it.”
Derek raised his eyebrows. “Got a thing for pretty boy, do you?”
You shook your head. “He’s cute, but I like my men older.”
Emily turned to you, a slight frown on her face. You never really talked about anything pertaining to relationships, love, or even casual crushes. Emily had tried to get you to open up about it before, but you never mentioned anything – not even your preferences, so she dropped it. Until now. Apparently alcohol would make you talk.
“What did we miss?” David Rossi asked, him and Hotch finally coming back to the table, both nursing glasses of amber-colored drinks. “They took forever getting our drinks at the bar.”
“Derek set Spence up with a girl, and he now looks like he’s going to either run or vomit. Y/N likes older guys and is drinking a Boozy Bee,” JJ told Rossi.
If Emily wasn’t paying attention, she would’ve missed the way your eyes fluttered up to Hotch, back to your drink, then back to him again before sitting up straight in your seat after JJ mentioned older guys. She furrowed her brow, discreetly glancing between both you and Hotch. However, Hotch didn’t give anything away as his eyes were focused on JJ who was talking.
“Boozy Bee?” Rossi questioned, watching you take yet another sip of the drink.
“It’s so good, Rossi. Do you want to try it?” You asked in your tipsy state, holding the half-empty drink up to him with a smile.
He chuckled. “I’m good, kid. I’m going to go see if Reid needs saving. He looks like he’s uncomfortable.”
You frowned as Rossi walked away. “Why will no one try my drink? Derek, how about you?”
Derek shrugged. “Sure.”
Emily watched as Derek bent down, his lips closing around the straw in the glass you were holding. He drank a small sip of the colorful drink.
Taking another sip of her own drink, Emily just happened to look in her boss’s direction who was standing across from her and beside Derek who was beside you. She hid behind her glass, eyes analyzing Hotch who didn’t look happy standing there in his blue button-up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
He watched Derek drink from the same straw your lips had been on all night. Emily made a mental note of the way Hotch immediately looked away with a small huff of breath that no one else noticed. It was almost as if Emily detected… jealousy?
No, she thought to herself. She decided it must have been the alcohol in her system – despite the fact she was still on her first drink – that put the idea that Hotch was jealous in her head. 
Emily felt weird overanalyzing her friends, especially since there was a general rule among them to not profile each other, even though they often broke that rule either unintentionally or with full intention.
However, she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the interaction in front of her. She glanced over to JJ and Penelope who were watching with amusement as Derek tried the drink. They hadn’t picked up on Hotch’s behavior in the current situation.
After what felt like ages to Emily and presumably Hotch, Derek finally stood back up.
“What’s the verdict?” Penelope asked from the end of the table.
Derek had a look of surprise embedded in his features. “It wasn’t bad at all. A little sugary.”
The straw was back in your mouth as you took another sip. The drink was a little under half-way full. “Going once, going twice, does anyone else want to try the best drink ever created before I finish it off?”
“Hotch, you should try the drink,” Emily said while trying to act nonchalant.
She didn’t want it to be obvious that she was attempting to figure out what was going on with him, and she hoped he hadn’t noticed her watching him only a minute prior.
Hotch didn’t say anything because words were rolling out of your mouth before he could even open his mouth to form a response. “Hotch isn’t a fan of anything sweet, and this drink is pretty sweet.”
Before anyone could say anything, Hotch was leaning over Derek, using one hand to sit down his own drink before laying it flat on the table to steady himself while his other hand wrapped around yours that held the glass, bringing the straw to his lips.
Emily was glad she didn’t have anything in her mouth because if she did, she would’ve spit it out in shock. The whole thing was strangely intimate. She frantically looked around at everyone, but no one was paying attention as they cheered on Aaron Hotchner, of all people, as he drank the entirety of what was left of the pink and blue drink that you swore he wouldn’t enjoy.
She was surprised to find that no one else was seeing this in the way that she was. A table full of profilers and no one just profiled that behavior?
Aaron finished the drink off. “I don’t hate everything sweet.” He moved his hand off of yours before anyone could notice the way his hand lingered – Emily already did – and moved back to where he was standing before making his way back to the bar. “I’ll buy you another drink.”
Derek, JJ, and Penelope were laughing and talking about what had just happened. Penelope had even taken a picture zoomed in of Hotch holding the drink, claiming they could always use that picture against him. Derek had moved down to the section of the table with JJ and Penelope to look at the photo, leaving you and Emily.
“Holy shit,” you muttered to no one in particular before locking eyes with Emily, still holding the empty glass in your hand. “Did you see that?”
“Older men, huh?” Emily asked nonchalantly.
You looked at her like a deer caught in headlights and narrowed your eyes. “Emily, I swear if you tell anyone-”
“Tell what?” She grinned. Emily then lowered her voice, moving in closer to talk to you. “So this is why you refuse to talk about anything to do with guys? I knew there was something. He was totally jealous of Derek.”
“What? No way,” you scoffed. “He’s not into me like that.”
Emily resisted the urge to roll her eyes at you. Based on the last five minutes alone, everyone at the table should have known what was going on. Unfortunately, no one was paying enough attention.
“From what I noticed, I’m just saying you could get dicked down on this table right now if you just bat your eyelashes at him when he comes back.”
“Emily!” You whisper-screamed. “You can’t say stuff like that when we’re-”
Before you could finish your sentence, Emily noticed Hotch coming back with another drink for you. She motioned for you to stop talking before he got to the table.
He sat your drink down in front of you, another Boozy Bee, before stealing the seat across from you that Spencer had originally occupied earlier before Derek took him out on the floor.
“Thank you,” you managed to say without giving away what you and Emily had just been talking about.
He nodded at you before returning back to his drink. When Emily was sure he wasn’t looking as he turned to speak with Penelope who was further down the table, she looked at you, mockingly batting her eyelashes.
Your eyes went wide as you shook your head before whispering, “I will kill you and make it look like an accident.”
Emily said nothing as she grinned for what felt like the hundredth time of the night. Her eyes flickered from Hotch and then back to you, enthusiastic that she had pieced something this exciting together.
In addition to thinking of herself as your best friend, she liked to also think of herself as the best matchmaker of the BAU.
Emily couldn’t wait for the upcoming week at work.
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