bau-babyg

[bau-babyg]

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐬

You’re in love with Spencer from the minute he gets you in his bed. [4k]

c: fem/afab. smut mdni, p in v sex, oral, fluff, aftercare, early intense feelings, spencer in sweetheart mode, flirting.

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It’s a cold day in November when you see him across the bar. He’s sitting at a table of friends drinking from a tall glass of coke. He’s normal. Non-imposing, undeniably cute, laughing with a smile that shows his teeth. His tie is to his belt and his suit jacket’s been thrown over the back of the chair. 

He looks like he might have fun with you, if you can catch his attention. Something about him seems… eager to please. 

You watch him, and you watch his friend. He seems more your usual type, muscled, confident. He’s the key. You let your gaze linger on the curly-haired boy until the friend glances your way. You give him a look. Hey, who’s your friend?

You look away once you see an arm rise. There’s elbowing, arguing. You sit relaxed at the bar and twists your straw through cherry spritz, ice cubes tinkling. After a minute you think, Oh, come on. After two you worry you aren’t his type. 

Then comes salvation. The curly haired boy slots between your seat and the next, beckoning the bartender forward with a nearly perfect, “Excuse me?” 

“Right there with you.”

You wait. He seems cute, but you’re not trying to take him home if he doesn’t have the chops for it. And not because you see yourself as some deadly thing to be pleased, but you can’t spend another night fluffing someone else’s feathers. 

“Hey,” he says finally, surprisingly without the nerves you’d read before. He must’ve breathed through them. “How’s it going?” 

You lift your gaze from the dark purple of your spritz. The first thing you notice are the beauty marks you couldn’t see before, along his cheeks and hiding among a light shadow of stubble. “Hi, handsome,” you say softly. You can’t imagine him liking a firm touch, but that might become more apparent later on. “Nothing’s going on, I suppose I was just waiting for you.” 

“Yeah?” he asks. 

“Mm-hm.” 

He puts one arm on the bar. You let your eyes dawdle on his hand. “Are you here alone?” 

“I was with a friend,” you confess, lifting your gaze to his, making steady eye contact for as long as he’ll allow you to. His gaze flits to your mouth as you continue. “But she met somebody. I was told not to wait up.” 

“So you’re in need of company?” 

You tip your head to give him the best glance at you, all eyes and gentle smiles as you nod. “Would that be you?” 

“What are you drinking?” 

“Cherry spritzer.” 

“Can I buy you another one?” 

“Just one, please.” You believe in the overarching reach of sexuality, of being with someone, but you don’t believe in drinking and sex, nor allowing a man to pave the way. “This is my first. If I have more than that I’ll be too tipsy to do what I want tonight.” 

“What’s that?” he asks. 

You tap your nose. The boy —the man— to your delight, seems to like the gesture very much. 

The bartender approaches. Your unknown, lovely looking man asks for a coke and a cherry spritzer, extra cherries, though you didn’t tell him too. He nods to your little plate of cherry stems and asks, “Can you tie a knot?” But before you can answer, he adds, “I’m good at it.” 

Spencer proves to be good at a few things. Kissing, touching, his face in sweet places and his spit-wet thumb to a nerve. One moment you’re sitting at the bar wondering if he’ll take you home and the next you’re taking a taxi, you’re lying in his bed being stripped of your stockings, being laid on top of. You didn’t know he had it in him, this sweaty, adoring kissing in the dark; there’s a difference between kissing for hunger’s sake and kissing with love, and for some strange reason Spencer doesn’t seem to know the difference. 

“Have we met before?” you ask, the ache between your legs sharper than ever as his hand flirts with the boundary of your stomach and the apex of you, begging to go back there and prolong what he’d started. 

“No.” His lips are on your neck, kissing as he slips a finger behind your ear. “I’d remember.”

His chest pushes into yours again, triggering a breathy gasp as the button of your nipple takes the brunt of him. He turns your face, that flirting hand abandoning your wanting cunt to squeeze at your sides, your ribs, the soft hill of your breast. 

“Do you wanna cum again?” he asks softly. The best part is that he’s earnest, not a second of bravado in it as he lays his lips against your cheek. 

You could. He’d done stuff with his mouth you’ve never experienced before, fingertips teasing your wetness as he told you something about tantrics and pleasure, his hand under your knee, holding you open. You’d felt so suddenly out of control and —and honestly, you’d thought yourself half in love with him for the way he was kissing you alone. No shyness, but softness. No rushing, no annoyance when it took you time to tip into pleasure. He’d been delighted when you seized, had sat up to draw the climax out with circles, matching pace to your rising chest. 

You slip a hand into his curls and treat him with the same sweetness he’d given you, kissing him like you love him: for whatever time this is, you really do. He’s the prettiest boy you’ve ever fucked. All it took to meet was a snowstorm and a need to escape the rigid cold. 

“I think you should fuck me now,” you say, scratching his scalp lightly, not so frantic, no more pulling. “Please.”

He kisses you, kisses your jaw, and doesn’t pretend he isn’t eager as he snatches the condom from the dresser. For a while things are giggly and breathless, nervous for a pause, then achingly tight. You stay and Spencer wraps his arms behind you, kissing your neck as you let your leg fall to the side. 

“When did you tell me your name?” you ask, breathless again as his kiss matches his rhythm, slow grinds of his hips, flirting as his hand had been, just a few inches from filling you completely. 

“I don’t remember,” he says through a kiss.

“Spencer.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I just thought I’d try it,” you say, covering your eyes with your hand as his hips flex and he touches that worst part of you over, and over, and over. 

Spencer turns your face to take your hand, slowing to a crawl. He checks your gaze, and sinks into you again. Slow fucking, long kisses, his hands rubbing up the juncture of your neck and down again, then stroking your arms, comfort for a pain you don’t feel. 

“What do you want me to do?” he asks quietly. 

“Just this.” 

“No, but what do you want?” he asks, lips pulled into a smile that didn’t quite make it into a laugh. “What feels best? I can get you there again.” 

So you end up more on your side than your back. He helps you lift a leg over his hip and then he’s back to kissing you senseless. You can’t think of anything but being kissed, being fucked, it doesn’t just feel like an okay pastime with a vaguely handsome guy heightened by a drink, it’s fucking with intent. He curls an arm behind your back to hold you against him and he lets you have everything. 

Something must give you away, a shaking leg, the way you breathe; he knows you’re ready before you do, kissing down your chest as his hand sinks between your hot thighs. Slick or not, he finds where he wants to touch, your eyes filling with heat as he slows. 

He draws it out. The second his lips find your chest you trip into cumming for the second time. You hadn’t realised he was close but you cum and he quickly follows, his nose at your collar. He sounds insane. Beggy, breathy moans, a shade from laughter.

“Can I keep going?” he asks just under your ear. 

You can’t say yes fast enough. He’s kind, ignoring your desperate tone. 

You don’t count the number of times you fuck that night. It’s not clear, really. They aren’t separate occasions. You come down and he’s stroking the skin of your neck as you catch your breath, drawing lines down your arm, murmuring, “You okay?” as you nod and slip a hand behind his back. 

He hugs you like he’s known you for years. When you kiss his blushing chest, kiss downward, he turns breathless. It goes on like that for a while. Afterwards, he situates himself between your legs and lets his weight force your thighs into your abdomen, just enough to feel the pressure, searching kisses pressed to your knee. 

It’s not that you fuck all night, it’s just different than before. And when he encourages you under his sheets to lay behind you, there’s a part of you that wants his hand to stray between your legs again, no matter how tired you are. 

“I’d say sorry for keeping you up, but you sounded like you liked it,” he murmurs in the dark, wrapping a solid arm around your stomach and pulling you tightly to him.

You have no regrets. For perhaps the first time ever, it feels as though all your gasps and teary sighs were adored, and not just smugly kept. “You didn’t notice me falling asleep?” 

He laughs at your teasing, his breath kissing the back of your neck. “When did that happen?” 

“…I don’t want to fall asleep, now.” 

“You don’t have to… I can make you a cup of tea, or…” He draws another line down your arm, ending in a swirl before your elbow. “You could shower.” 

Both sound nice, but no. Your legs are still weak from being held, the ache of a good fuck taking home in your stomach. Truthfully, nothing could make you wanna leave whatever it is he’s doing to you now. The shape of his lips warms your shoulder. 

“That was amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” he says, wrapping you up all over again. He can’t decide how to hold you. You grab his hand and keep it there under your breasts, letting your eyes flutter closed. 

How can he say that? He has this strange way of touching that’s making you feel yards prettier than you usually do, and he’d just fucked you like a dream. You couldn’t manage that sort of pleasure alone. 

“Where have you been hiding?” you whisper, toying with his fingers. Might as well do everything you can while you can. 

“Nowhere.” 

“So where have you been?” 

He takes a breath. “Turn around?”

You begin turning and he takes you like a dance, leaning in slowly to kiss you, until his smoothness gives way to a smile. He pulls back. In the barest lick of light from the window, you can see a blush spreading across his nose. 

“Sorry. I should ask, I shouldn’t just kiss you,” he says, cupping your cheek. 

How might you go about marrying this boy? You decide to play it cool, kissing him until you fall asleep in his arms, your lips still parted for another lazy press of his as he pulls the sheets over your shoulders. 

—

You wake to something new. There isn’t a man against you hinting for a morning tryst, nor an empty bed, a note to let yourself out when you’re ready. There’s a real, gentle hand on your neck. It slides to your shoulder and rubs. 

“You okay?” a voice asks. 

You force your eyes open, blurry vision further occluded by a face. 

His hair is damp. Like he showered a while ago. Spencer’s hand travels to the back of your neck and touches accordingly. “I wouldn’t have bothered you, but it’s almost one. I was worried you might be sick.” 

You close your eyes, smiling, better when he scratches the back of your neck with short nails. “I was up late.” 

“I know, I’m  sorry.” 

You wait for him to tell you why you have to leave, any manner of excuse, but nothing comes. 

“So are you? Okay?” he asks gently. 

“I’ll leave soon.” 

“That’s not what I’m trying to say. If you’re not sick, you can go back to sleep.” 

“And just lay in your bed all day,” you murmur, disbelieving. 

“If you wanted to. Or… you can shower, and I can make you something to eat.” His thumb takes to your cheek. One night stand sex can’t be something he does often, or there’s a real possibility that he’s the first man to ever do it right.

His eyes are so much bigger than you realised. “Do you wear glasses?” 

He stammers, embarrassed, “How would you guess that?” 

You raise a hand to his face and draw a short line against his nose. “You have the marks here. Were you reading?” 

“Just while I was waiting for you.” 

“What do you do?” 

“What?” 

“I didn’t ask what you do, I don’t think we managed to ask each other much of anything,” you say, rewarded for your vulnerability with a chest-aching smile, his canine teeth peeking from under his lips. He still looks kissed, lips a shade of sore you’re sure you’d see on yourself in the mirror. 

“I work for the government,” he says, catching your hand to cradle your wrist, “for something called the behavioural analysis unit.” 

“Like, statistics?” 

He lets your hand fall against his chest, a thin grey t-shirt under your knuckles failing to hide the shapes of him, of which you’d explored at length last night. You kissed as much of his chest as you could and it hadn’t felt like enough, Spencer leaner than you’d realised with a stomach on the soft side, easy to kiss relentlessly. 

Your mouth is drying thinking about it. Spencer watches you wordlessly, before saying, “I guess it is like statistics, especially for me. We try to think about serial criminals in terms of their motives. It’s an attempt at math for something not usually quantitative.” 

“And you’re good at it.” 

“I’m good at math, yeah.” 

“Probability of a,” —your breath betrays you, slightly too hopeful as it catches— “morning kiss if I brush my teeth first?” 

His eyes light up. He leans down carefully, and gives you a chaste, firm kiss. 

You forget that you’re naked, not worried about being shy. The sheets fall away from you as you lift up to meet him. He holds them to your naked waist, the other hand skirting just below your breast. You wish he’d touch you like he did last night, but he isn’t so forward. His kiss is kind. You frown as he pulls away. 

“I had a really great time, last night,” he says, tip of his thumb setting your nerves aflame as it drifts over your skin. “Really great.” 

“Me too.” 

“And you’re okay?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Nothing hurts?” he asks. 

“No, of course not.” Your confusion clears. “No, you weren’t like that. I think my legs might be aching but that’ll go away in the shower.” 

“I can run you a bath, if you want. It’s a half bath so you might not be able to stretch out, but it’ll help.” He gives you a smile. The familiarity between you doesn’t want to ebb. 

“Shouldn’t have showered without me,” you say, soft, lest playful be something he doesn’t want on a new day. 

“My hair was greasy. Someone kept touching it.” 

You sit up. Spencer’s hands fall to yours.

It’s hard not to play with someone’s hair when it’s in their face, and when they’re trailing kisses in warm places. He doesn’t blame you really, you can see it in his eyes. 

For a pause, you just sit. 

This is nice. Not being thrown out, left with that aching gap in your chest like you gave something you hadn’t intended when it started. Sex will never be easy again, you realise, not when you know it can be good. 

“You’re not working today, are you?” you ask. 

“No, why?” he asks in turn, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. 

“Maybe we…” He waits. He’s pretty enough to force your hand. “We could get to know each other,” you say, gaze taking refuge on his hands. “If you want to.” 

”Really?” 

“I’ve never had that with someone. Maybe we’re, I don’t know, compatible in more ways than one.” You remember yourself, lifting your head, startled by the sheer want in his expression as he holds your fingers. “You’re handsome, and you seem kind. We could have fun.” 

“We could have so much fun,” he says, that flushed blush already spreading across his nose again. 

You draw a line up his chest. “I might need help getting my back, in the shower. That’s not a tight squeeze, is it?” 

“We might have to stand very close.” 

You giggle wildly as he pulls you up, worse when he drapes a sheet over you worrying about the cold. It’s treatment you could grow used to. 

— 

Spencer’s trying to figure out how he got here. You, across the bar sending him looks —Derek swore you were— and the second he got to your chair he realised you were out of his league, but he had nothing to lose beside his pride. 

Then there was you, in bed, pulling on his tie murmuring sweet somethings, sweet pleadings, really, taking another kiss as he moved as you asked. 

Then you, the morning after. You’d slept for long enough to scare him, but when you woke you were exactly the girl you’d been the night before, only slower. Ever so slightly bashful. We could get to know each other. 

Spencer’s not sure how he managed it, but you don’t go home. And on Monday you go to work and come back. On Tuesday he meets you outside of your building to take you for dinner, and you come back with him again, another night up in his arms, tangling his hair with enthusiastic fingers. The sex is good, it is, not just ‘cos his past catalogue of lays were with women who wanted casual experiences solely, or those few times with Ethan where it ended too fast and left him useless. You fuck him like you love him. It’s crazy, except he’s acting the same way. 

When you’re not fucking you’re in his lap, or sitting at the coffee table with your face on his thigh driving him crazy, or you’re laying with your feet tucked under him telling him something about you. He is desperate for the details. 

Like, this is it. You’ve pulled your chair as close to his as humanly possible and thrown both legs over his, basically sharing his seat as you laugh around a messy mouthful of Thai noodles. 

“Don’t look, I’m being disgusting–”

“You’re never disgusting, let me–”

He’s heard you pee. He’s kissed you all over. The human aspects of you don’t bother him. 

“Spence, can you–”

“It’s going up your nose–”

“–stop, holy s–”

He pinches your nose clean. “Tada. Kiss now?” 

“You wanna share?” 

“Yes!” 

“No.” You press your hand to your mouth before he can lean in.

He lets you swallow your mouthful. Your ankle is cool in his hand. When people talk about love, it’s about meeting someone, the dates and the phone calls, the big questions. Spencer didn’t know you could do it like this. Every time you go home, you’re asking if you can come back or pestering him to come your way. 

“Can I kiss you now?” he asks imploringly. 

“No, we’re done kissing for a bit. I want another one of those massages.” 

He can’t joke about it or he’ll turn crimson. You enjoyed a polite leg massage, until he got to your thighs, and things got out of hand. 

“No massages.” He taps you under the chin, letting his hand travel wherever it wants over the side of your face. 

“Fine, no massages. Unless you want one?” 

“No, we agreed tonight we’d just– sleep. My boss is onto me.” 

You wink involuntarily as he cups your cheek, his fingers pushed lightly over your eyes.

You aren’t fiends, but finding someone who matches as you do makes it hard to abstain from the fun. Last night was tame, though; he’d made sure you were happy and fallen asleep to grateful neck kisses. Tonight, he won’t say no, but these all-hours affairs have to stop. Derek’s suspicious of him, Hotch has the situation entirely sussed, he's sure, and Spencer’s sixty percent sure Rossi saw you both outside of Quantico tonight kissing against a toll booth.  

Not that it matters. Spencer has a good feeling you’re not a fling. 

“I got you some stuff earlier,” he says. 

You pull his hand from your face and ask, “What stuff?” 

“Like, stuff you need here. I don’t know what you like, but there’s a cleansing balm– are you allergic to chamomile?” You shake your head. “Um, it might be weird, I got you underwear, just ‘cos of the situation yesterday–”

“I liked wearing boxers, they were snug in a certain region is all–”

“–and some shampoo. That sort of stuff. Just so you can stop suffering with mine.” 

“You know what shampoo I use?” 

“I deduced it.” 

“Ah, yes, mister profiler,” you mumble, bending into your knees to hold his face. “If I hadn’t looked you up online I’d think you were a stalker. How can you guess my favourite ice cream flavour when I never told you?”

He smiles shyly. “I just can.”

“Is there anything else you’ve guessed about me?” 

“Every meal with you takes a half hour. You’re easily distracted.”

He laughs as you protest, “You’re distracting! You don’t need to guess that.” 

“You distract me, too.” 

You gather yourself up and stand over him to kiss his nose. “Spencer,” you whisper, your fingers sliding into his hair, “thank you. You don’t have to buy me stuff, I could’ve just gone home.”

“I don’t really want you to.” 

You raise your head to see him eye to eye. “I don't want to either. This is… I like you.” 

He hums, wrapping his arms around you. The hugs are rarer than kisses, but only because you’ve shared so many of the latter in the dark. He’s been thinking of kisses as the extension to fucking, that they’re okay as long as it’s done in bed, but the more time you stay, the more kisses you’ve shared for no reason at all. You kissed his cheek on the train earlier and he felt it like a shock, tipping his chin down to peck you on the lips, your arm curled behind his back as the traincar rattled over a bend. 

“I like you too,” he laughs. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, of course I do.” 

“Not just…” 

“It’s not just the sex,” he says, waving his hand behind your shoulder as you curl into him all over again. It feels amazing. 

“Should we go out, then?” 

“We do.” 

“No, should we date? We could be partners, officially.” 

Spencer can’t take it, scooping you into his lap, though you do sit obligingly on his thigh. He shifts to take the weight. 

“Please, let’s be partners,” he says softly. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t, it’s still soon.” 

“Five days and counting. That’s longer than some marriages, you know.” 

“Maybe we can be, like, tentative boyfriend and girlfriend. If you change your mind, no hard feelings.” 

“And if I don’t?” he asks. 

“Then we get married in Vegas.” 

“You could meet my mom.” 

“I’d love to meet your mom.”

“Do you really wanna be my girlfriend?” he asks. 

“I mean… there’s not such a big difference in dating and what we’re doing, right? This is relationship stuff, we just sort of skipped the awkward first dates.” 

“We did,” he says, failing to hide his grin. 

You stroke his cheek with your nose.

Your attempt at abstinence doesn’t last, but neither party is to blame. You have to celebrate somehow. So you finish your takeout dinner and wash dishes bumping hips. He locks the door for the night and you, giggling, struggle to change his A/C. When he drags you by the sleeve to the bedroom, he doesn’t intend on jumping right into it, and for a while he doesn’t. You lay on top of him between his parted legs and he spends a sluggish hour stroking your hairline, listening to you talk. But his devotion turns to your ear, and he’s kissing behind it, and you’re hitching yourself up his chest soon enough. 

“That cherry spritzer was worth it, huh?” you ask lowly, scratching his jaw as you sit over him.

You really are pretty, amplified by your syrupy smile. 

“I guess that depends what you think. Was I as good at making knots as I promised?” he asks. 

“I can’t remember.” 

“I can remind you?”

“That might be prudent, Dr. Reid.” 

“I never should’ve told you about that,” he murmurs, your lips atop his, ready to be parted. 

“I would’ve found out eventually. I’m gonna find out everything about you, honey.” 

Spencer lets his eyes shutter closed. Me first, he thinks, giving in to another endless kiss. He has the advantage, after all. 

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thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed please consider liking reblogging or leaving a comment/reply it makes my day and I am so grateful<3 

[bau-babyg]

˖ ࣪⊹ ౨ৎ 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ࿐ྂ 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Hello, I'm Vênus!

Welcome to my first Kinktober! I chose to write this challenge with two versions: Criminal Minds and House of the Dragon. Each version will be posted every other day.

This is the Criminal Minds Edition. I will update this masterlist and the HOTD Edition every day starting from October 1st, with the AO3 links to the fics. I apologize in advance for any (probable) delays, because I'm gonna try to be consistent but I can't assure you it will really happen. If something goes wrong, don't worry because I will keep writing even after the end of October.

I'm really excited to start, so I hope y'all enjoy! Anyone who wants to be tagged, tell me the specific days you want. And if you want me to tag another or more blog, tell me the usernames.

Each oneshot will have their own trigger warnings. All of them were written with female reader.

— day one (01, oct) squirting + overstimulation w/ Spencer Reid

— day two (03, oct) lactation kink w/ Aaron Hotchner

— day three (05, oct) face-sitting w/ Spencer Reid

— day four (07, oct) bath sex w/ Emily Prentiss

— day five (09, oct) size kink w/ Derek Morgan

— day six (11, oct) threesome FFF w/ Emily Prentiss & Jennifer "JJ" Jareau

— day seven (13, oct) pet play w/ Derek Morgan

— day eight (15, oct) safeword use w/ Spencer Reid

— day nine (17, oct) gun play + dubcon w/ Cat Adams

— day ten (19, oct) foursome FMMM w/ Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid

— day eleven (21, oct) edging play w/ Spencer Reid

— day twelve (23, oct) orgasm denial + strap-on w/ Elle Greenaway

— day thirteen (25, oct) deepthroating w/ Aaron Hotchner

— day fourteen (27, oct) dacryphilia w/ Spencer Reid

— day fifteen (29, oct) praise kink w/ Spencer Reid

— day sixteen (31, oct) knife play + CNC w/ Spencer Reid

[bau-babyg]

She’s looking down because I’m bout to be down between her knees- WHAT? 🫢

shes sat like that so i can sit on her lap 😋

[bau-babyg]

STOP! These are so good! I’d do pin this up on my picture wall!! 😆

And yes @lover-of-books-and-tea omg! They do give ATLA vibes!! 🌀

Right…started drawing again after like way too long…so here’s a silly little sketch up of the lesbian icon herself…

Proportions are my arch enemy, please be gentle…but I wanna post more so 🥲

[bau-babyg]

I love when sketchbooks are full like this! It’s like chaos but in the perfect way!!! 🫶

Right…started drawing again after like way too long…so here’s a silly little sketch up of the lesbian icon herself…

Proportions are my arch enemy, please be gentle…but I wanna post more so 🥲

[bau-babyg]

NO BUT I SEE THE VISION!!! 🥲🫶

Right…started drawing again after like way too long…so here’s a silly little sketch up of the lesbian icon herself…

Proportions are my arch enemy, please be gentle…but I wanna post more so 🥲

[bau-babyg]

AWEEE thank youuu sm!!! 🥲🫶

Right…started drawing again after like way too long…so here’s a silly little sketch up of the lesbian icon herself…

Proportions are my arch enemy, please be gentle…but I wanna post more so 🥲

[bau-babyg]

Right…started drawing again after like way too long…so here’s a silly little sketch up of the lesbian icon herself…

Proportions are my arch enemy, please be gentle…but I wanna post more so 🥲

[bau-babyg]

This is so Garcia of them ✨

[bau-babyg]

if u need me y will find me scavenging for every little boop button on this app

hello tumblr

[bau-babyg]

stop- stop- I can’t >-<

Soft fluffy wife!emily aaaaahhhhhh i just want her to wrap me up and hug me forever

And her saying I love you anyways I can’t that’s so her…she just knows it can’t be said enough

She needs kids istg we were robbed of Emily with children…she just is pure comfort :,)

Matilda (Emily Prentiss x Reader)

"You can start a family who will always show you love"

Summary: In which Emily Prentiss comes home to her wife and daughter after a week-long case.

Warnings: None

EMILY LET out a sigh of relief as she walked into her house and dropped her to-go bag. After a week-long case, all she wanted to do was curl up in bed with her wife. She made quick work of putting away her gun and credentials, trying to be quiet so she didn't wake anyone up.

She was in the kitchen filling up a glass of water when she heard soft footsteps walk into the kitchen.

"Mama!" Charlotte said as she ran over and wrapped her arms around Emily's leg. Emily smiled as she put the glass down and bent over to pick up the three-year-old.

"Hi sweet girl," Emily said as she kissed her daughter on the head, the smell of her shampoo already calming her senses. She smiled as she saw Charlotte's pink onesie, ever since the two of you bought it for her, she refused to wear anything else to bed.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Emily asked as she tickled the little girl's stomach. Charlotte giggled as she threw her small hands around her mother's neck.

"I'm thirsty." She said as she looked up at the raven-haired woman.

"Well, let's get you some water, and then you can go back to bed." Emily smiled as she opened another cabinet to grab a small plastic cup.

"I want apple juice." Charlotte pouted as she looked up at her mother.

She knows she shouldn't, but she could never say no to the perfected pout of her daughter. Emily knows it's because that pout is one hundred percent inherited from you.

"Don't tell Mommy, okay? It'll be our secret." Emily says as she holds out her pinky.

"Our secret!" Charlotte giggles as she wraps her pinky around Emily's. Emily adjusts the little girl to sit on her hip as she grabs the apple juice from the fridge and pours it into the light pink cup.

After Charlotte was done Emily left the cup on the sink to clean tomorrow.

She carried Charlotte upstairs and wasn't surprised when the toddler was starting to fall asleep in her arms. She smiled as she tucked her daughter into bed and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before heading to her bedroom.

As soon as she walked in she saw your sleeping frame curled up against her pillow. She smiled as she immediately walked over to you and gently brushed some hair out of your face, not wanting to wake you but needing to feel the warmth of your skin. You unconsciously nuzzled your face into her hand. "I love you," She whispered, knowing that you were still asleep, but if she had learned anything from you, it was that she could never say those three words too many times.

She quickly changed out of her work clothes and into shorts and a sweatshirt before heading to the bathroom. When she came out a couple of minutes later she saw Charlotte curled up next to you with her small arm protectively on top of your five-month pregnant belly.

Emily's heart melted at the sight.

She never thought that this would be her life.

She never thought that love like this could come so easily.

That being loved was so easy.

"You're back." You murmured as you slowly sat up, carefully placing Charlotte's head onto the pillows without waking her up.

"I am." Emily smiled as she quickly got into bed and pulled you in for a soft kiss. Your lips tasted like home and Emily never wanted to leave.

"I missed you." You mumbled sleepily against her lips.

"I miss you too," Emily said as she rested her forehead against yours. "How's the little one?" She asked as she placed her hand softly onto your stomach.

"Good. She was hungry for a new combination this week though." You yawned and Emily raised her eyebrows. "Oh, she was?"

"Mhm. She insisted I eat tuna and peanut butter every day."

Emily wrinkled her nose at the thought, "Gross."

You just shrugged as you leaned your head against Emily's shoulder, "How was the case?" You asked quietly, knowing that Charlotte could sleep through anything but not wanting to take any chances.

"Let's just say I'm very happy to be back with my girls," Emily murmured as she rested her cheek on the top of your head. You knew this meant she didn't want to talk about it yet, so you didn't push. You remembered what it was like returning from a case, the heaviness in your heart making you want to do nothing but curl up with the people you love.

You still worked at the BAU, but after having Charlotte you decided you didn't want to be in the field anymore so you mostly worked on cold cases and consults over the phone.

"I love you." You said as you fought to keep your eyes open. You wanted to spend time with your wife after not seeing her for a week but your exhaustion was getting the better of you.

"I love you more." She smiled as she kissed the top of your head. "Why don't we go to sleep? We can talk more in the morning." Emily murmured and then immediately heard your soft snores from her shoulder.

Emily held back a laugh as she gently laid the both of you down on the bed. Your ability to fall asleep anywhere and anytime had surely been passed to Charlotte.

Emily buried her face into your neck as she lazily put her arms over your stomach. She never slept well without you, so as soon as she inhaled the scent of your body wash her eyes drifted closed.

●・○・●・○・●

Emily's eyes fluttered open to the feeling of small hands on her face.

"Mama." Charlotte's soft voice whispered.

"Mhm," Emily said sleepily as she rubbed her eyes and slowly sat up. The little girl immediately crawled into the brunette's lap and looked up at her excitedly. "Pancakes!"

Emily chuckled as she brushed wild hair off her daughter's forehead. "You want pancakes?"

"Yeah!"

Emily happily agreed, knowing that the two of them could surprise you with breakfast in bed since you were still fast asleep.

By the time they got downstairs, Charlotte was already chasing Sergio around the kitchen. The black cat had taken a long time to warm up to the little girl, but now he was at least tolerant of her antics.

Emily put on soft music as she got out all of the ingredients. She easily whipped together the batter in minutes and then went to find Charlotte so she could put in the chocolate chips.

"Char! It's chocolate chip time!" Emily called out as she walked into the living room.

As soon as she saw the two of them she couldn't help but laugh. "Very pretty, Serg," Emily said as she looked at the pink crown Charlotte had put on his head.

"He needs a dress!" Charlotte said excitedly as she bolted from the living to the playroom and came back with a pink, doll dress less than thirty seconds later.

"Why don't we play dress up after breakfast, okay?" Emily said as she scooped the little girl up, giving Sergio time to knock the tiara off with his paw and scamper upstairs.

"Okay," The toddler sighed dramatically, another thing that Emily claims is all you.

By the time they get into the kitchen, Charlotte has already forgotten about the dress and is squirming in Emily's arm to reach the chocolate chips.

"Remember, not too much," Emily says as she hands the bag to the little girl.

"Not too much," Charlotte repeats before dumping almost half the bag in.

"Well, it's a good thing you and your mommy love chocolate chips." Emily chuckled as she took the bag from her. Before she could put it away Charlotte stopped her, "Do the trick mama!" Charlotte says excitedly as she claps her hands.

The trick was just Emily seeing how many chocolate chips she could throw into her mouth but Charlotte was insistent that she do it every time they make pancakes.

"Okay, let's see if we can break the record, Char!" Emily smiled as she placed the toddler in her high chair next to the counter.

"Yeah!" She cheered. Emily's current record was 27 consecutive chocolate chips thrown into her mouth. It would have been more if they hadn't run out of them last time.

"Alright," Emily said as she grabbed one out of the bag and then tossed the chip high and easily caught it in her mouth.

"One!" The mother and daughter counted at the same time. The game went on for another three minutes, Charlotte had stopped counting at 20 but right when Emily threw the 27th one into the air, Sergio scurried passed Emily's leg causing her to fall backward and land right on her ass, missing the chocolate chip.

"Ow," Emily grumbled as shot a glare at the cat who looked smug as he ran away. The brunette could have sworn that was the cat's payback for letting her daughter dress him up.

"Mama hurt?" Charlotte asked as she looked down at Emily with sad eyes.

"I'm okay, sweet girl." Emily smiled as she ignored the crack in her knees as she stood up. "We'll beat our record next time, yeah?" She said as she gave her daughter a high five. "Yeah!" Charlotte giggled.

Thirty minutes later, all the pancakes were done and Emily had cut up some fruit and made you tea. She put everything on a tray as she and Charlotte walked up the stairs to surprise you.

"You want to wake up Mommy?" Emily asked and Charlotte nodded excitedly.

"Surprise!" Charlotte said as she ran through the room and jumped onto the bed, shaking your shoulders with her small hands.

"Mmm, good morning Char," You mumbled as you rubbed your eyes.

"We made breakfast!" She said excitedly as she pulled on your arm for you to sit up.

"Oh, you did?" You said as you looked over and saw your wife holding a tray with a big smile.

"Mama let me put in the chocolate chips!" Charlotte said as Emily gently placed the food onto the bed and then crawled next to you.

"Wow, they look good, Char! You and your mama are the best!" You said as you gave her a quick kiss on the head before turning to your wife.

"Thank you." You smiled, giving her a quick kiss on the lips before carefully pulling the tray onto your lap.

"Always," Emily said as she placed her chin on your shoulder. She watched lovingly as Charlotte burrowed into your side, stealing fruit from the tray as you cut the pancakes.

The three of you spent the rest of the morning in bed rewatching Charlotte's favorite movie for probably the fifteenth time. But neither you nor Emily would have had it any other way.

[bau-babyg]

Omg it’s been so long since I’d done a picrew this was actually fun lol •v•

Nearest thing to knowing what I look like lmao :P

No pressure tags 🤗: @section-chief-prentiss @spencer-reidz @elleminds @softhairedhotch @cosmicblogs x

Picrew challenge. It's easy, just make a you from this picrew lol

No presh tags: @jadore-andor @emilykaldwen @massivecolorspygiant @theradioactivespidergwen @bouncehousedemons @em-likes-to-lurk @moongirldreamer @corrabell @ohhstark @selfproclaimedunicorn @humanpurposes @thesunfyre4446 and anyone else! Go nuts

[bau-babyg]

I have resurrected 🧍🏼‍♂️

[bau-babyg]

Why is this video 5 hours long……? opp-

What do you mean I made a compilation of his kiss scenes? Uhh I would never????

[bau-babyg]

I love the new team too but s2/3-s7 was the best team :(

glass shattered on the white cloth, everybody moved on…

i stayed there, dust collected on my pinned-up hair

[bau-babyg]

It is criminal how good he looks…sir. plsssss. I can’t take it any more. 🥲🥲🥲

Also there is something so damn slutty about a man in a henley shirt like- I’m on my knees tg pls

[bau-babyg]

AGHH DAD AARON JUST MELTS MY HEART I LOVE HIM SM!!! 🥹🥹

This and ‘Baby steps’ is so stinking cute like- girl dad Aaron being so sweet and protective, having to let his little girl go out into the world omfg 😭 and no doubt being just are teared up for Jack growing up too! 🥹

katie this is sauuurrr adorable the last part LMAO what if when babygirl is off to kindergarten and rossi jokingly asked aaron so does she have a boyfriend yet and aaron just 😐😒https://www.tumblr.com/ssahotchnerr/735008130361081856/aaron-and-reader-on-their-daughters-first-day-of

bittersweet remarks

awww thank you hehe 🥰 and omg aaron would NOT have it cw; fem!reader, girl!dad aaron, dave being dave LOL - cont. from baby steps

when your daughter started preschool, aaron knew he had a year to mentally prepare for the next milestone: kindergarten. but come september - had he? absolutely not.

in addition, you were more on the emotional side this time around, tears flowing fast and freely the night before in bed. you had been curled into aaron's side, your tears dropping onto and wetting his t-shirt, voicing how is it possible your baby's starting kindergarten.

you were thrilled for her, of course, but next you'll blink and she'll be in college, and then it'll be her wedding day (aaron had paled at that). in summary, it's all going way too fast and you're both losing your little girl right before your eyes and there's nothing you can do about it.

this morning when you awoke, again you were rather sniffly. and while aaron was experiencing the exact bittersweet feelings as well, he didn't express so for your sake:

the last thing he needed was more tears on your end, which on any given day could easily bring him to tears. and if baby girl saw you crying, she would grow unsure and cry herself, and he definitely would cry.

this year, he would be the pillar of strength you needed.

luckily, both of you were able to put on a brave face for your daughter; displaying high spirits as you got her dressed, taking first day of school pictures. then dropping her off with bright smiles, tight hugs, and the confident words that you both know she'll have the best day and cannot wait to hear all about it.

you held it together saying see you later, while walking down the school's hallway away from her classroom, out into the parking lot. but once in the privacy of the car, tears.

aaron was more than aware of the grey cloud following him as he entered the roundtable room for morning's debrief. his heartstrings continued to pull in all different directions; the excitement he held for your daughter's big next step, but she was growing up. his insides ached for you and your rough morning, but he succeeded in consoling you and getting a smile out of you before heading in.

aaron felt the team's eyes as he sat down, as he got settled, as he shifted through his case files as he searched for the words to begin.

the demeanor was clear and obvious, aaron's normal frown more distinguished. morgan's expression immediately fell into a yikes - widening his eyes for a split second, his eyebrows raised - a silent signal to the others to not piss him off today.

"how'd it go this morning?" jj gently broke the silence, by her motherly nature. compared to the team, she had a very good understanding on how his morning had probably went so far.

"it was fine." aaron answered simply, continuing to look down as he spoke. he also vaguely and shortly explained you had a rough morning letting go, penelope audibly aw'ing in return.

"so, has she got a boyfriend yet?" dave asked, just tossing it out there casually as he raised his coffee mug to his lips and took a sip. his statement was all for the sake of fun, knowing he'd get a strong reaction out of aaron.

rossi also received very aghast, nervous faces from the others, all questioning: are you out of your mind?

without fully lifting his head, aaron's eyes rose from his paperwork. as his gaze met dave's, a lethal expression. his prominent glare was more hardened than usual, eyebrows drawn into a strict line above his eyes, silently shooting sharp daggers.

he'd find it slightly humorous within a day or so, just not now. the timing was poor, especially due to your wedding comment the previous night.

"ah," dave leaned back in his chair, amused and chucking softly. "i'll take that as a no."