maximoffwitch

[maximoffwitch]

⎯⎯ LOVESICK

visual is for vibes only, reader’s appearance is nondescript!

pairing: emily prentiss x fem!reader

summary: your allergies kick in at the worst possible moment

warnings: mentions of oral sex, interrupted sex

word count: 1.2k

a/n: a tiny, silly emily piece to get the creative juices flowing for kinktober 😈💭 enjoy!!

“Fuck! Yes, yes, yes! Em, right the-“

Achoo!

You flinched as you sneezed, your leg jerking out violently and smacking Emily in the back of the head.

“Ow!” she groaned, pulling back from between your legs with a sarcastic smile, “Romantic.”

You stared, horrified for a second, before you burst into laughter, “Oh my God, Em, I’m so sorry.”

You pulled your feet up and away and she knelt in front of you, rubbing the back of her head, eyebrows raised but smirking.

You sat up and reached out for her, cupping her face gently with both hands, still entirely bare in front of her and flushed for more reasons than one.

“You okay?” you rubbed your thumb along her cheekbone.

She tentatively pressed her fingers to her scalp, wincing slightly, “I’ve been-“

Achoo!

You doubled over with another sneeze.

Emily sighed, “Better…”

You bit back a laugh, covering your mouth with the back of your hand as Emily looked up at you questioningly, “Oh my God, I don’t know what is wrong with me.”

She studied you, head tilted slightly, and drew your legs back to her, by the ankles, as if scared that they might lash out again, “You allergic to orgasms now?”

“Seems like it, yeah.” you sniffled, reaching blindly for a tissue as you laughed.

Your heart swelled a little as you met Emily’s eyes again. She was looking at you, in both exasperation and awe and it made your heart flip a little.

Even naked, mid-sneeze, with red eyes and a damp tissue crumpled in your hand, she was looking at you like you were the hottest thing she’d ever seen.

“You sure you’re not allergic to something in here?” she asked, tousling her hair as she looked around the room, “Incense? The cat? Me?”

You raised your eyebrows at her, looking thoroughly unconvinced, “You think I’m allergic to you?”

“Stranger things have happened,” she shrugged, getting up from the floor to grab the box of tissues and bring them over, “You didn’t sneeze at all until I got between your legs.”

You groaned and flopped back against the pillows, letting your legs fall open dramatically, “This is so unfair. I was so close. Orgasm denial, via allergies.”

Emily’s gaze dropped instinctively - and lingered - as she dropped the tissue box at your side.

“I can work around them.”

Noticing her gaze growing heated again, you looked at her sternly, “Emily…”

“I’m just saying,” she said, moving to settle between your legs again, face just above your navel, “I’ve got combat training, I’m prepared.”

You snorted, then coughed as another sneeze threatened to come out. You quickly turned away, grabbing another tissue, just in time.

Emily paused, watching you, fingers idly stroking your thighs as she waited for you to settle again.

“Okay,” you huffed after blowing your nose again, “It’s official. I’m disgusting.”

“You’re not disgusting,” she said, sitting back on her knees, “You’re just a little gross right now. A bit of a biohazard.”

You gave her an unimpressed look.

“A sexy biohazard,” she amended with a sweet smile.

You swatted at her side, but Emily only caught your wrist and pinned it down to the bed.

“You sure you feel okay?” she asked, tone softer as she searched your face.

You nodded, “Yeah. Just… I don’t know. Something in the air, maybe. Or it’s the candle. Or the detergent. Or you.”

Emily smiled amusedly as she hovered over you, “So it is my fault?”

“Possibly. I can’t say for sure…”

Her brows lifted as she let out a little laugh, “Oh, you can’t, huh?”

“Nope,” you smirked, sliding your arms around her neck and running your hands over her shoulders, “Guess it’ll have to be trial and error.”

She laughed, mouth ghosting over your jaw. “Mm… if you insist.”

Emily didn’t need a second invitation. She kissed you slowly at first, waiting for you to sneeze again. When you didn’t, her hand slid down to your hip as her body settled half on top of you.

You moaned into her mouth, threading your fingers through the hair at the base of her neck and praying that your immune system could hold it together for a few minutes longer.

Her mouth trailed back down your body, picking up where she left off. She was taking her time with you now and you didn’t know how long you could stand the torture.

You bit your lip, breath catching, toes curling and-

Achoo!

“No! -my God!” you cried, your fists hitting the mattress, as your nose betrayed you again.

Emily immediately pulled back, laughing so hard she had to cover her face against your thigh.

“I can’t!” you whined, your own laughter joining hers, eyes teary with frustration, “What is wrong with me?!”

Emily’s forehead was still pressed into your thigh, her shoulders shaking as she tried to pull herself together.

When she finally did look up, her face was red from laughing. She swiped her hair away from her face.

“I don’t know,” she said, between breaths, “but I am never going to be able to hear you moan without thinking about you sneezing in my face.”

You groaned in embarrassment, immediately hiding your face behind both your hands, “That’s it. I’m never having sex again.”

“You’re giving up on me that easily?”

“Yes… No… I don’t know!” you pouted at her, letting your hands fall down at your sides.

Emily’s fingers slid just beneath the curve of your ribs, teasingly, as she asked, “Well, which is it?”

Yes,” you sighed pitifully, pouting up at her.

“Alright, drama queen, you just sit there and look pretty until I come back.” Emily gently squeezed your wrists and stood up.

You whined, propping yourself up on your elbows, “Where are you going?”

“To get you some allergy meds,” she said, pointing at you with a smirk, “I’ll only be a minute. Promise.”

And with that, she padded off into the kitchen. You huffed again, flopping back. From the next room, you heard her laughing.

You shook your head, as if she could see it.

When she returned, she knelt over you and wiped your nose for you, tossing the antihistamines onto the bed.

“There you go, you big baby. All better.”

You squeaked in protest as she exaggerated her wiping, dragging the tissue across your face over and over until you were writhing.

“Stop!”

“What?” she grinned, “I thought you were sick! I’m helping.”

She wrapped you up in your patterned duvet, smothering you in it.

“Em!” you laughed, trying to wriggle out from under her.

“Oh no you don’t. I’m going to keep you here and nurse you back to health.” she patted around your head, pretending to fluff your pillow.

You shook your head, wriggling in her arms, “I’m fine! I’m fine! It’s gone now, I’m-“

Achoo!

“What was that about being fine?” Emily teased, pressing a kiss to your cheek and then your nose.

“Unfortunately for you,” she added smugly, “I have the rest of the day off. Which means… I’m keeping you right here.”

Wrapped up in her arms, eyes still a little watery, you let yourself relax into the covers. You couldn’t help but smile, even as you sniffled, “I guess there’s worse ways to spend a day.”

“Exactly.” she kissed your cheek again.

“I love you.” you hummed softly, tilting your head to meet her lips in one, two, three soft pecks.

“I love you. Even covered in snot.” she grinned.

You rolled your eyes, unable to resist a smile. It was so incredibly Emily to have to have the last laugh.

[maximoffwitch]

Emily Prentiss x non BAU girlfriend so when her girlfriend asks what “SSA Prentiss” stands for, Emily smirks and casually says “It means super sexy agent Prentiss”

[maximoffwitch]

Thanks for reminding me how dangerously obsessed I am with your writing by reposting your what is a milf story 😭😭😭😭😭

teeheee you’re welcome 🤭 one of my fav things ive ever written so glad you enjoy it too! :))

[maximoffwitch]

STUNNING AMAZING GORGEOUS BEAUTIFUL PERFECT writing!!!! the pining and yearning is off the charts 📈🙂‍↕️ and i absolutely love the way the ending of this part and part one mirror each other 🥰

went looking for a creation myth (ended up with a pair of cracked lips) | e.p

Tags: assistant!reader, unit chief emily, reader has a shit date, kinda plotless except for the pathetic amount of yearning, fluff, emily's not an asshole yay, I love writing these guys so much they literally possessed me to fully write two fics in two days

Summary: You find Emily waiting when you come back from your disaster of a date. She apologizes, and takes you for ice cream. Requested here.

Word count: 1.4k

Part one

The date is a sham. 

He offers you half the bill, ducks out halfway to bum a cigarette, and claims your house is far too much out of his way home—despite the fact that he picked you up, the fucker. It should have been apparent, when he’d honked to let you know he arrived and kept consistently cutting off the waiter to layer his own words on top. 

Stupid. You never should’ve let Penelope talk you into this. 

You grab an uber home and try not to sulk at a perfectly good Friday night otherwise wasted on some undeserving asshat in fakely woven Louis Vuitton and a too-loose Rolex. At least you look good, you think dully as the car pulls up at your apartment. You pay the driver and get out, heaving a breath as you make your way to the door. Your heels make the only sound on the street, until another car door slams and footsteps sound behind you, a velvet voice making you startle.

“Y/N.”

“Jesus!” You whirl around, nearly toppling. Emily stares as your chest heaves, her bitterly dark eyes sweeping from the top of your head to the shiny heels on your feet. She’d shed her blazer and stiff posture along the way; swallowed by the night, she looks far smaller than she does in the office, far softer. 

You feel your shoulders shrink, a weird, hot humiliation curling in your gut. She doesn’t know, you tell yourself.

But…

“What are you doing here? Have you been…waiting for me?” That’s not right. Emily Prentiss doesn’t wait around for anyone. But her chin dips just slightly, the smallest fraction of acknowledgement. Your mouth drops wider. “How long have you been here?”

“Not long. I—” she inhales a deep breath, “I wanted to apologize.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry. For the way I acted. It wasn’t fair to you, and there’s no excuse.”

It’s kind of cute that she thinks you haven’t handled enough of her sharp remarks to let them roll off your back. You’ve gotten used to it. She’s bitchy sometimes, no time or headspace for manners, but she always softens right after. It’s not that you accept it, you tell yourself. You don’t. You just know she’s always stretched thin and two pascals of pressure away from snapping in half. 

I don’t need you rushes back in loud and clear. But she didn’t mean it like that. Right? She just didn’t need you then.

Or so you tell yourself.

God, this woman.

“Don’t sweat it, honey.” You wave a flippant hand, your spine crumbling. “You weren’t any worse than my date.”

She winces. “How’d it go?”

“Shittily.” You sniff. “I’m never calling him again. Waste of a perfectly good weeknight.” You cross your arms over your chest, sulking. You’re not even sufficiently drunk.

You’re close to it, though, a low buzz in your bones at her close proximity. She’s an arm’s length away, haloed by light as if in a dream, her face smoothed from the stress lines of work.

“Night’s not over yet.” Emily says softly. “Can I…can I make it up to you? Do you wanna get ice cream, maybe?”

You do have a sweet tooth.

____

Of course her car smells nice. It’s clean and sleek, the faint, familiar scent she carries around clinging to the stitches in the leather. Her perfume is woven into your soul now; it’s caramelly and smooth, something you’d bet is golden, bitter where it rests on the jut of her collarbone. 

You shake your head just barely, forcing the thoughts to disperse. Your eyes leave the road and naturally latch on to Emily’s side of the car, following the pale ridges of her knuckles on the wheel. She holds it firmly, her other hand lying on her thigh, slender fingers ghostly on top of her dark slacks, the dark shadows pouring into the car. You trace the straight line of her nose from light years away.

Her voice comes low and sudden, startling you though she doesn’t even turn an inch your way.

“What?”

Shit.

“Nothing.” 

She gives you a sidelong glance. 

“It’s just—you’re out of the office.” You blurt.

“Well, I don’t actually live there.” Emily says dryly, “Contrary to popular belief.” She flicks the signal on and makes a turn. Streetlights illuminate her for a split second, pouring gold over black.

“Was it too boring without me?”

You earn the slightest twitch of her lips. “Something like that.” She murmurs. Silence reigns for a beat, then, “Not nearly as motivating.”

A grin splits your face. From Emily, that’s practically a love confession. 

“Aw, boss. Maybe next time I offer to stay you should just let me.”

Her eyes flick over to you, her brow arching. “Careful now. Don’t let it get to your head.”

The thing is, just this is getting wonderfully, ridiculously to your head. Her silky, warning voice; the intoxicating smell of her car; the feeling of, briefly, being on even footing with her. You physically have to press your legs down to keep them from kicking, pursing your lips to stop the smile from tearing your face down the middle. Goddamn your perpetual need for approval. Goddamn Emily fucking Prentiss.

She buys you ice cream, insists on it being her treat, and catches the glow of lights like some absurdly alluring mythical creature. The shock of cold ice cream on your teeth is the only thing that distracts from the long tilt of her lashes, the effortless elegance to her gait, the way her lipstick begins to blur, bit by bit at the edges, smudged by ice cream and her tongue. She’s otherworldly beautiful. You already know that, god do you know it, but here, half shrouded in shadow and half in syrupy light, she’s entirely unreal. 

Staring at her feels hedonistic.

“Sorry about your date.” She says as you’re walking along the storefronts, her eyes skipping over cracks in the empty sidewalk.

You chance a glance at your watch. It feels like forever ago.

“Would it be shallow of me to say I forgot it already?”

Emily smiles softly. “No. That was kinda the point.”

“Not because you had to grovel?”

“I don’t grovel.” She frowns.

“Maybe a little bit.” You grin. “You did come all this way.”

“And I think I’ll be going back now.”

“No, no!” You laugh, tugging on her arm to bring her back. She doesn’t stumble, exactly, but she does shift too close, leaning a little too hard into your clasped fingers. It brings you face to face, her ridiculously long, ink-black spidery lashes close enough to count.

Her eyes really are a world of their own.

Emily blinks, and the illusion shatters.

“I really do have to get going, though.” She says quietly. You have to pretend you don’t feel her sweetened breath across your skin, sugary with two pounds of whipped cream and an ocean of chocolate fudge. 

You want to taste it. Lip to lip, mouth to mouth, you want to drag your tongue over the gentle, heart-shaped bow of her upper lip, want to taste chocolate and coffee and collapsed clouds of cream from her teeth. As if she’d ever let you. You know that now, she’d taste sweet, ounces and ounces of sugar crystalizing along her molars, coating her tongue though it’d never coat her words. 

Something about it makes you feel dizzy. This sharp-eyed, tightly wound Unit Chief of the BAU, whipsmart and waiting for someone to doubt it, her mouth the sweetest part of her and her tongue the sharpest. It would nick yours, undoubtedly, and you feel insane for wanting the blood to pour from your tongue and onto hers.

Your limbs feel thick as molasses.

“I’ll drop you off.” She says, as if there’s any other option. But you know that with her, there’s not. She wouldn’t leave you on the street. She wouldn’t let you catch a cab or an uber or a helicopter ride back to your apartment. No, she feels a measure of responsibility for you; she brought you here, and she’d take you back.

You can’t manage anything but a jerky nod, your eyes dropping to the melting river of ice cream in your cup. Every single bone in your body is attuned to hers.

Emily Prentiss takes a step back, your pulse leaping with the distance, and you know you’re terribly fucked.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @storiesofsvu @ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi @temilyrights @professorsapphic @decadentcatcrusade @piiinco @jareavsheavn @mourningthewicked @heartoreadallthequeerthingz @rustnroll @slutforabbyanderson @maximoffcarter @cns-mari @daddy-heather-dunbar @lcvessapphic @wlwoceaneyes @yoyo-w @upsidedowndanvers @wittygutsy@emilyprentissmylove@pastesfactory @whoreforolderfictionalwomen

[maximoffwitch]

i can literally FEEL the tension. it’s SO good. the yearning but also the fragility of the relationship is chefs kiss. AGHHHH i love this so so much and your writing is beautiful 🥹🥹🥰

half return

emily prentiss x gn!reader

summary: things haven't been the same since emily's return: fragile & delicate. you won't allow your friendship to fall apart, not when you finally have her back in your life.

word count: 1.9k

disclaimers: set in season seven. emily is emotionally repressed and deflecting (naturally). case mentioned. kinda character study (i know its canon that emily rushed to repair her relationships after her return in s7 but i wanted to explore what it might look like with a reader where their relationship was deep. you know? someone emily had previously opened up too. because i think that could look very different - i could talk about this for hours. i may have to make a post).

You actually quite enjoyed research. There was something rather ritualistic about sifting through old records, jotting down notes in the process, and slowly trying to peace together a profile. It was slower, and the looming pressure of new victims didn't cease, but still it felt good to pause for a second in the otherwise constant chaos that was working at the BAU.

The mountains of boxes and loose paper currently spewed across Baltimore's stuffy filing room did however momentarily make you regret all your prior comments. As the towers threatened to topple over, crushing you under their inhumane heights.

Morgan had taken one look, muttered “Oh, hell no,” and legged it out the door and honestly you couldn’t blame him. Even you had winced.

Still, you weren't one to back down from a challenge. You squared your shoulders and with help from Spencer and Emily, slowly started to make progress. However, two hours in Hotch decided he needed Spencer back on the geographical profile and couldn't afford to send anyone else to assist you. Spencer apologetically waved his goodbyes, and you watched him go with only slight desperation.

Just you and Emily left.

Which was fine.

Good.

Normal.

You eye her over the police file. Things have been… not awkward exactly since her return, just delicate, maybe? Fragile. Like you were both waiting for the moment a mild gust of wind came and blew away the tattered remains of your friendship.

It still felt so surreal seeing her. The woman you'd spent seven months grieving was now sitting in front of you, brows furrowed as she tiredly flicked through a file, the biro in her hand tapping absentmindedly on her notepad beside her, ready to add to her collection of scrawled ideas and half-formed thoughts. Her hair slips into her eyes and she tucks it behind her ear as she turns a page in the file.

She often had her raven hair tucked back behind her ear now. You've always loved her full bangs, but the side part felt like a gift; revealing more of her face to you and allowing you to silently marvel in her beauty.

"Did you always imagine yourself doing this?" You ask as you grab the next report. Aiming for casual, but unsure if you succeed as your heart beats rapidly. Your fingers restlessly drum against the file, a nervous habit you've never been able to kick.

You feel sixteen again, like she's the popular girl in school you're desperately trying to impress, apart from this time it's worse. Your emotions are all caught up in the mess and you're hopelessly wanting for any sort of connection or normality.

There hadn't been this much of chasm between you in years and you don't know what to do with it. You weren't even sure why it was there. Everyone else seemed to be finding their rhythm with Emily again, and yet you kept missing your step, your heart reaching your throat each time.

She looks up, her brows rising and lips spreading into a smirk, “Sitting surrounded by hundreds of mind-numbing police records trying to track down what happened to our victims when they were teenagers in the off chance it's connected to the case? Oh yeah, that’s what I dreamed about every night as a kid, didn’t you?”

You roll your eyes, your lips twitching. At least some things stayed the same. “I more meant working at the BAU, or even the FBI. Is it what you always wanted to do?”

She bites her lips, her gaze rolling around the room playfully as she hums. A bid for time while she decides whether to answer truthfully or not.

Because while the chasm exists, like this, you're pretty sure you can still read her.

You try not to shift in your seat, hoping for just one small disclosure. Something new, something real.

“I had no idea. Not until college.” She admits, shaking her head, her lips pressed together. “Not until the world felt a bit more open.” Her mouth twitches, a hint of a self deprecating smile appearing, before she pulls it back, hidden.

You nod, lips tilting up just slightly. “You studied Criminal Justice, right?”

“Yes, which as you can imagine, my mother loved." She laughs wryly, her eyes meeting yours from across the table. You hold her gaze knowingly, a part of you wishing you could take her hand and soothe away the hurt. This wasn't the first time in the years you’ve known her that the Ambassador had come up.

"I used to think maybe if I'd gone into law she’d have been happy but I think she just likes to criticise my every choice.” She huffs and discards the file into the growing pile before selecting a new one, her lips twisting in silent displeasure before she can shrug away the sensation.

She looks at you as she opens it, her eyes curious. “What’s with the twenty questions?”

You shrug, “Making conversation I guess.”

Emily hums, her eyes continuing to watch you for a moment before she accepts the answer with a nod and returns to the report in front of her.

You can't do anything to stop the pleased smile on your lips as you look back to the report spread out in front of you.

June 2000. Elderly woman was car jacked.

Definitely nothing to do with the case. You throw the file easily onto the corresponding pile and select a new one. The silence feels lighter, warding off the stuffy air of the room which moments before had been clogging up your throat and making it difficult to breathe. Now, you feel settled, a warmth encompassing you and your confidence building.

Emily's watchful eyes land on you more than once. You can hear the cogs spinning in her head, but you let the silence stretch and give her the space to come to you. Eventually she turns the page of her report, eyes still trapped on the words below her as she murmurs, "What about you then? Was this the dream?”

You squish your lips together to hide the pleased smile threatening to take over your face, but when you look up and notice Emily's expression flicker you're certain she caught you anyway.

"Uh," You push forward, shrugging. There's curiosity in her gaze, but behind that you can see the assumptions beginning to form, the profiler at play.

“I think I just wanted to help people. Whatever form that took.” You admit with another shrug, feeling exposed as you bite your lip and duck your head just slightly.

Her gaze softens, a hint of a smile lingering on her face as she shakes her head in disbelief. "Of course you did. You’re good.”

You choke on your tongue, her sincerity flooring you. "What?"

"Oh, come on." She scoffs, "I'm not saying it again. You heard me and you know it's true."

"Emily," You shake your head, mouth opening and closing as you try to find the words to explain how she'd just split your chest open.

"I—" You blink. "Thank you."

She ducks her head, eyes scanning back to the file. "Have you found anything related to our victims?" She asks, the crease between her brows the only indication that your conversation has left an impact.

You know the case is important, but you hate when she does this: hides behind professionalism. It's not new, it's always, for as long as you've known her, been one of her go to tools when someone gets too close. But her tolerance for vulnerability seems to have weakened. It's like the second you try to inquire past the surface her walls slap you in the face.

It's the reason for the chasm. It must be.

Emily's never been an open book but there used to be some understanding between you both. On her bad days she would come to you, and although she'd rarely find the words, she'd sometimes let you see the tears, let you sit beside her until the world felt a little more steady. But since her return that trust had not been restored. She was going at it all alone.

And you just couldn't have that.

You sigh, eyes kind but knowing she's going to hate every word. "It's okay, you know. To stay in this moment. You don't have to always hide behind work."

She snorts, defensive. "Yeah, how much did you pay for a therapist to tell you that?"

You roll your eyes, sharper this time, but breathing through the hit. "Does it make it any less true? I feel like we hardly talk anymore."

That makes her blink, the file finally dropping. "We talk all the time."

"It's not the same. You must feel the distance."

She stares at you, mind spinning. Words forming and dying in her throat before she dares to voice them... And then, finally, a quiet, almost broken. "I'm trying."

You shake your head, heart aching. "No, Em. That's not what I'm—" You stand up and quickly round the table, file discarded carelessly in the process. You perch on the table beside her. Her gaze is fixated on the wall, distant and forlorn, and you carefully reach out and touch her arm, caressing the soft cotton of her t-shirt.

Her eyes rise to meet yours, guarded but powerful. She's never been weak, not even now when you've touched a part of her she's terrified of. She holds your gaze ready to take whatever blow comes. It makes you nauseous.

"You're not alone anymore." You promise. "I'm here. You can come to me with anything."

She looks away, her creased brows a dead give away to her pain even if she tries to deflect with a flimsy laugh. "Yeah, alright."

"Emily, listen to my words." Your hand slides up, caressing her face and delicately cupping her jaw, bringing her eyes back to yours. "I've already lost you once. I'm not doing it again."

She stares at you. Dark brown eyes, vulnerable and with a spark of something that might just be hope.

"It's dark in there." She croaks, voice choked with emotion and barely louder than a whisper.

"That's okay. Let's handle it together."

She stares at you for a long time. And you hold her, steady and purposefully. Trying to reassure her in the silence that you would not leave. Even as tears ghost her eyes, you stay; your fingers stroking the line of her jaw soothingly.

And eventually… one singular nod.

You smile.

You should pull away, you know. But you haven't been this close to her in forever so you linger. It's too intimate to be anything casual, but you can pretend, can eat up the moment greedily while she allows it. She closes her eyes, leaning into the pressure of your hand, just slightly, for only a moment. So short you think you might have imagined it.

And then she pulls away, humour dancing in her dark irises. The intensity of the moment fading away. "See, told you. You're too good."

You tut and close the distance again to place a careless kiss on her forehead. Neither of you are ready right now for more, you're too scared she'll disappear and she's too uncertain in her safety. But it's enough for now just to kiss her forehead and pull back. To smile at each other and feel the ghost of her hand, a silent squeezing thank you, almost like a promise, like you're both saying some day.

Considering five months ago you still moved through your days with the grief of her death weighing heavily on your shoulders.

Some day felt like a dream.

[maximoffwitch]

Survivor (BAU X Reader)

Hi BAU-ties! I’m back from the dead with a request fill! This is an angsty team fic requested by anon who wanted “an imagine where you’ve been kidnapped when you were a kid and now you’re an agent on the fbi and the bau has a similar case with yours so Rossi(the one who helped with your case back then)calls you to help out?but the rest of the bau doesn’t know that you have been abducted and they realize it when you show them similar scars as the victim’s on the wrists” Unbeta’d! I hope you all enjoy it! 

Warnings: This fic does include some heavy topics such as kidnapping young girls, hostage, death, and more. I tried my best to keep it close to an episode of CM! - xoxo, k

“Good morning, Agent Y/L/N,” your supervisor, Agent Harriman greeted as you walked in, handing you a case file. “You have a call from David Rossi at the BAU waiting on your desk.”

“Alright, thank you, sir! Has he been waiting long?” You asked, hoping Dave wasn’t.

“No, we touched base for a bit and he insisted that he needed to speak with you right away. I’ll be in my office if you need me.” He informed you, heading back to his door.

You scurried over to your desk and picked up the line and warmly answered, “Hey Dave!”

“Y/N,” Rossi began, his tone uncharacteristically somber, “I needed to talk to you, did Harriman hand you the case file I sent?”

“He did.” You responded, nervous and caught off guard. “What’s going on?”

“The BAU-” he paused, “I mean, I need to ask something of you, something I have no right to ask of you but we have no real leads.”

The anxiety you felt turned into full blown nausea as you opened the file, knowing the subject of the contents from the first picture. Current photos of a girl who was mutilated and killed, her wrists scarred just like the ones under your blazer cuffs. You took a shaky breath, “This can’t be right. David, it’s been over twenty years.”

Keep reading

[maximoffwitch]

You Can Never Go Home - Masterlist

My first fic! The Reader left her hometown fifteen years ago after being accused of a terrible crime. Now an FBI agent, she and the BAU are called back to investigate a series of brutal stabbings while dealing with hostile locals and buried secrets.

Part One: The Case Part Two: That Girl’s Not Right Part Three: In The Cracks Part Four: Ghosts From The Past Part Five: Close To Home Part Six: Torn Asunder Part Seven: From The Other Side Part Eight: Who We Are In The Dark Part Nine: Home Is Not A Place

[maximoffwitch]

I love you shy!reader fics so much!! And I kinda have a request? It's alright if you don't like it. But I was thinking about a shy buff reader that wears loose clothes and suits that dont really show much, until one day they have an emergency and r bursts into the office wearing a tank top and shorts. And obviously, Emily can't stop staring and when they get alone she comes to r saying she'd always imagined what was like under all those clothes, all flirty and feeling r's bicep, While r is almost combusting.

You can do wtv you want with this !! I just couldn't get it out of my head

Thank you for the request 🤭, I hope you like the way it turned out.

That's what I thought

Word count: 1.9 k Tags: buff!reader, shy!reader, flirty!Emily

You’ve always hated tight clothes. Not because you were ashamed of your body, at least, not exactly, but because attention made you uneasy. There’s a kind of safety in soft fabric, in the looseness of suits and sweaters that hide what’s underneath. People see what they expect to see: the quiet one, the assistant who keeps to herself, the analyst who doesn’t talk much unless she’s asked. And that’s fine, you never wanted more than that. Until today.

You were in the middle of making a highly needed coffee when the call came in, an emergency override code from the FBI’s internal systems, something rare enough to make your heart jump before your brain even caught up. You work in Cyber Operations, low visibility by design, but always on call, especially when the network starts to burn. Five minutes, that’s all you had. Five minutes to throw on whatever was clean, shove your badge into the side pocket of your small bag, and race across Quantico under the suffocating heat of summer that seemed determined to cling to every inch of exposed skin. You’d just finished your morning run, still warm from the rhythm of motion, your breathing not yet fully returned to baseline. Even in this inappropriate clothing, you never wear this type of clothing to your work. But there hadn’t been time to change, only time to move.

Now you’re standing in the middle of your division’s floor, pulse still high, breath unsteady, dressed in black running shorts and a gray tank top that leaves nothing to the imagination, and everything open to scrutiny. You’re explaining the nature of the breach to your supervisor, trying to sound like the professional you are, while silently willing the weight of a hundred glances to disappear. Not all glances. Her glance. Emily Prentiss.

She doesn’t work directly with you, to be exact not in your department, but you’ve had enough contact over the past months to know her presence before you even turn your head. She’s a senior agent, composed, intuitive, always five steps ahead of the room. And though she’s never unkind, there’s a gravity in the way she looks at people, like she’s reading the parts of them they didn’t mean to show. You’ve spent enough late nights untangling system logs to know what it looks like when someone reads between the lines, and she? She makes a profession of it. She’s a profiler. And everything you’ve ever heard about her? She wears it like a second skin. She doesn’t miss much and she’s more than earned that reputation.

You’ve been trying not to think about her too much. About the way her voice wraps around your name like she’s not even aware she’s saying it softer than the others. About the way your skin tightens when she enters the room, even if it’s only for a briefing or a glance over your shoulder at a screen. A quiet, persistent ache you’ve buried under layers of fabric and unspoken hope.

And now she’s staring. In her defense, she doesn’t look rudely or intrusively. She looks with interest. With a kind of quiet, analytical wonder, as if a long-held question has just been answered, and the answer is far more intriguing than expected.

You finish your explanation, voice clipped at the edges despite your best efforts, and mutter a soft, “Sorry,” as you shift your weight and cross your arms in front of your chest, an instinctive motion that has nothing to do with modesty and everything to do with the sudden rawness of being seen. The AC hums, ineffective against the heat, but you still feel cold. There’s something about her attention that makes your skin feel peeled back, not exposed, exactly, but held, like she’s reached out and touched something she shouldn’t have known how to find.

Your supervisor waves you off with a distracted nod, too preoccupied with the data unfolding across his tablet to notice the tension crackling just beneath your skin. You glance back just once, against your better judgment, and she’s still watching. Still wearing that almost-smile, the kind that’s invisible to anyone not already looking too closely.

You leave. Not because you’re supposed to, not because your part is over, but because staying would mean unraveling, and you’re not sure how much more of yourself you can afford to show. You retreat into motion, burrow into the pulse of your work, into the logic and code and protocol of failure recovery. You don’t stop until the system stabilizes, until the panic recedes into manageable dullness and someone in admin offers you a hoodie two sizes too big and doesn’t ask questions.

By then, it’s too late. The image has already lived its life. Your phone vibrates with a message from a colleague you barely speak to: Did Prentiss just STARE at you for two whole minutes or am I losing my mind?

You don’t respond. Not because the message doesn’t matter, it does, more than it should, but because words feel too sharp, too definite, and you’re not ready for any of them. So instead, you sit. Tucked into the hallway just outside the server room, one leg drawn up to your chest, the back of your head resting against the wall’s cool surface. The coffee in your hand is long since cold, and your heart refuses to be reasoned with.

“Hey.”

You hear her before you see her, though the voice has lived in your head for days now, no weeks, if you’re honest, and it still manages to draw your breath inward like a secret.

You look up slowly, careful. She’s standing a few feet away, suit jacket gone, her sleeves rolled to the elbows, the sharp lines of her shirt catching just enough of the light to make her look taller, calmer, a little more human than usual. Her hair is tied back. She’s holding a water bottle she doesn’t seem to need, her posture relaxed in a way that feels rehearsed.

“I figured I’d find you here,” she says, her words wrapped in something gentler than amusement. “You slip out when the spotlight hits.”

Like instinct. Like self-defense. Like muscle memory you never meant to train. A breath escapes you, half a laugh, half a confession. “Is that what I do?”

“It’s not a bad thing,” she replies quickly, like she’s afraid of saying too much. “Just something I’ve… noticed.”

Her gaze moves to the hoodie, lingers there. “You changed.”

You nod. “It felt… weird.”

“Why?” She tilts her head, just slightly, and takes a step closer. “You looked good.”

Your pulse stumbles so hard it hurts. “I—uh… thanks.”

She doesn’t say anything right away. She just sits down beside you, close enough to warm the space between your shoulders but not so close that you feel cornered. The silence stretches, slow and heavy, but not uncomfortable.

“I have to admit,” she says after a pause, tone dipping into something almost teasing, “I’ve been curious.”

Your chest tightens. “About what?”

Her lips curve barely, like the shadow of a thought, and she looks at you sideways, eyes dark and unreadable. “What’s under all those suits.”

You blink, too stunned to respond, but she doesn’t seem surprised by your silence. Maybe it’s because this moment has been building, not in words, but in everything else. In all the times she’s lingered by your desk longer than necessary. In the questions she’s asked that didn’t quite belong in a case file. In the small, careful glances that always seemed like accidents until now. It’s not the words, not exactly. It’s the way she says them. Soft. Honest. Dangerous in its quiet intimacy.

You want to sink into the fabric around you, the wall behind you, the floor beneath your feet. Anything to escape the sudden, impossible lightness in your chest. She notices.

“I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.”

“I know,” you whisper, not looking at her. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

You stare down at your hands. At the calluses that never quite fade. At the strength you don’t show, the discipline you don’t speak of. You wonder if she’s seen any of it, really seen it, or if it only became real to her today.

“It’s just… you’re Emily Prentiss.”

There’s a quiet laugh, soft and whole and without mockery. “And?”

“And I’m me.”

She leans her head back against the wall, eyes closing for a moment. When she opens them again, she looks at you with something warmer than understanding.

“The quiet, brilliant, unexpectedly ripped analyst,” she murmurs, “who somehow thinks I haven’t been trying to flirt with her for a month.”

You turn to her, stunned. “You what?”

She meets your gaze directly, and for a long, suspended second, nothing moves. Then her hand lifts slowly, with the kind of deliberate patience that undoes you, and trails along your arm, her fingers brushing the curve of your bicep like she’s confirming a theory she’s carried in silence.

“Yeah,” she says, voice dipped in velvet. “That’s what I thought.”

You can’t move, can’t breathe. Your thoughts scatter like leaves caught in sudden wind, chaotic and weightless, all logic pulled from under you like a thread yanked too fast from a seam.

“I—” It’s barely a sound, more breath than word, and it dies the moment it leaves your mouth.

She doesn’t press, and doesn’t ask. She only watches you for a moment longer, her gaze steady but unbearably gentle, like she’s cataloging every fragment of your reaction, the twitch in your fingers, the way your shoulders tense under the weight of her nearness, the way your eyes can’t decide whether to meet hers or flee. Then she smiles. Not for show, not for power, but with the kind of quiet certainty that makes your stomach fold in on itself.

“I’ll let you catch your breath,” she murmurs, her voice so close to tender it almost breaks you. She leans in, not much, just enough that her presence brushes against yours, barely a whisper of distance between you, and you catch it, that flicker of mischief tucked beneath her control, as if she’s enjoying the way you unravel.

“But just so you know…” Her hand lifts again, fingers ghosting along your forearm with maddening softness, trailing heat in their wake. “You’re not as invisible as you think.”

Your breath stutters at her words, and you have no idea what you’re supposed to do with your hands, your eyes, or your heart. The moment hangs, too full, too close. Heat lingers where her fingers touched, where her voice folded between syllables like a secret not meant to be heard. It shouldn’t matter, it’s just a sentence, a glance. But it does.

She straightens slowly, her movements as fluid as ever, not rushed, not dramatic, just measured, like she knows exactly how to leave a room and make it feel like the air followed her out. And then she’s gone. No grand exit. No footsteps echoing. Just the fading hum of presence and the quiet burn of where she touched you.

The borrowed hoodie is too warm now, clinging to you like it knows what just happened, and your body feels too small to hold the way your heart is hammering beneath your ribs.

You don’t know what terrifies you more: That she saw right through you or that some part of you wanted her to.

taglist: @imightbethewriter @frazzled-fairy @daddy-heather-dunbar

[maximoffwitch]

past memories | criminal minds x fem!reader

a/n: i’ve been rewatching criminal minds and i forgot how much i love jj and elle and it inspired me to write a fic about the show. (also, I wrote this in like half an hour and didn’t spell check)

warnings: references to assault

word count: 2.5k

masterlist | request list | request rules

reader finds that she has to go back to her home town to face a familiar unsub and memories that she had had locked away for a long time resurface

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Sorry your date was a bust, baby girl.”

You moved your head to face the large man, aptly named ‘Chocolate Thunder’, who was leaning against your desk.

“It’s alright. He was a dud anyway.”

You felt bad lying but the truth was, you didn’t even turn up to the date. You convinced yourself not to go believing that he would end up becoming like every guy you had ever met.

Well, not every guy.

The men on your team were the best. They were your family. They had never hurt you.

Though the same couldn’t be said for-

“Guys, briefing room.” JJ ordered, dropping case files on all of your desks.

You all got up and made your way to where Hotch and Rossi were waiting before JJ grabbed your arm, stopping you from joining the rest of the team.

“What’s wrong, J?” You looked at her eyes which seemed to display…apprehension?

“This case is based in Litchfield.”

You sucked in a breath, instantly understanding her wariness.

You were going back to your home town.

Keep reading

[maximoffwitch]

open up your heart | emily prentiss x fem!reader

a/n: i need to write more emily fics tbh. there was no specific request but I’ve had a few people tell me they wanted another emily x reader fic. and considering it was this beauty’s birthday yesterday, this is dedicated to her

warnings: mentions of blood

word count: 4.3k

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reader eagerly accepts the offer to work at the bau but is shocked to find that her boss is her once ex-girlfriend

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

There’s always something about the first.

In anything.

Somebody you used to know said that.

Who knew how right she’d be...

                ✧── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

“Good Morning, Agent L/N.”

“Good Morning.”

You reciprocated the greeting as you used your credentials to enter the federal building. You walked through the security barriers, collected your weapon and looked down at your welcome pack. As you read through the pages, you didn’t notice the person in front of you and you knocked them forward slightly.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m such a klutz.” You began spouting your apologies at the blonde woman in front of you.

“Hey, don’t worry, it’s fine. We’re all klutzes sometimes.”

The woman who was dressed in a colourful outfit, completed by her orange glasses, said. The latter then excused herself when she saw someone else she knew.

When she walked off, you walked up to the lift and pressed your floor number.

The lift pinged as the doors opened. You stepped inside alongside a few other agents and made your way to your destination.

You never thought you’d be here. Never in a million years.

But before the old Unit Chief had retired, he had asked you to join his team and you couldn’t reject an offer like that. You’d be a fool to do so.

So you had uprooted your life. Left Britain. Left what little friends and family you had and moved to the US to become a member of the BAU.

As the lift stopped at each level, your nerves increased. You had no idea who the new Unit Chief was, having only been told that the new UC still wanted you on their team.

As the doors opened, you stepped onto the floor and mentally psyched yourself up for your first day.

Get it together, y/n.

You’ve dealt with assassins and murderers before. Starting a new job should be easy in comparison.

You pushed through the glass doors and made your way over to the bullpen where a group of agents were gathered around a desk, chatting away. As you approached, all conversation ceased and their attention turned to you making you slightly uncomfortable.

Before you could open your mouth to introduce yourself, you heard footsteps behind you and found yourself staring at a familiar face.

“Hey, I know you. From downstairs. The-”

“Klutz.” You finished, smiling as the woman giggled. “I’m Y/N L/N.” You stated, shaking the woman’s hand.

“Oh, right. The new team member. Well, I’m Penelope Garcia. This is Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi and Spencer Reid.” Garcia said, pointing to each member of the team when she named them. Finally, you could put faces to names.

“Did you know the word ‘klutz’ actually derives from the Yiddish term ‘klotz’ meaning ‘a shapeless lump’ hence someone who is ‘all fingers and thumbs’?”

The man named Spencer explained as the rest of the team failed to hide their smirks.

He was clearly the genius on the team and you thought you’d give him a run for his money.

“Well, etymologically, it’s the same word as the modern German word ‘kloß’ as well as the modern English words ‘clot’ or ‘clod’ which was originally from an old Indo-European word meaning ‘round like a fist’.”

When you finished, the team’s faces dropped as they stared at you with a mixture of shock and innate curiosity.

“Oh, god, we’ve got another Reid.” The man named Derek said, causing the rest of you to laugh.

“So...y/n, tell us a bit about yourself, like what brings you from the UK.” JJ prompted.

“Nothing much really. I just needed a change.” You replied, shrugging your shoulders.

“Where did you work back in England?” Rossi asked curiously.

“I was a ranking agent at Interpol. I was recruited straight out of uni, which would be college here, I guess, so around about 6 years ago.”

“Interpol?” You turned your head to face the colourful woman beside you as you tilted your head in question. “You must have known-”

Before Garcia could finish her sentence, your head glanced up when you heard someone call your name.

When you located the source, your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

It couldn’t be.

How?

She’s not meant to be here.

You couldn’t believe it.

“Emily?” You gasped.

The team followed your gaze and turned to face the dark-haired woman currently standing at the top of the stairs located in front of, what looked to be, the briefing room.

Emily walked down the stairs, towards you and the rest of the team, and stopped a few feet in front of you.

Questions running frantically through your mind, you opened your mouth to speak but it was she who spoke first.

“How am I here? Why am I here? Why didn’t I tell you I was here?”

You closed your mouth and your brows burrowed.

“I hate it when you do that.” You said, crossing your arms, feigning annoyance.

Her eyes narrowed, “You love it really.”

You narrowed your eyes in challenge, “Do I?”

A smile painted her face causing you to grin as she moved to put her arms around you, pulling you close to her.

You sighed, wrapping your arms around her, and rested your head against her neck like you used to. It felt right.

When you both pulled away, she gazed into your eyes and then smiled once more.

“I missed you, y/n.”

“I missed you too, Em.”

Then in the corner of your eye, you saw JJ and the others staring at you. Now just realising your display of affection in front of the others, you cleared your throat and spoke.

“So...aren’t you gonna answer your questions, Prentiss?”

She laughed heartily making your chest clench as warmth spread through you. You’d missed that sound.

“Same old y/n. Well, to answer my questions, Hotch asked me to take his position as Unit Chief. I’m here because I loved being head of Interpol but it felt right coming back. And I didn’t tell you, one, because I wanted it to be a surprise but two, because I couldn’t contact you whilst you were undercover. Speaking of which, how’d the op go?”

Your eyes widened at her first answer and then softened at her second answer but at her final answer, you stiffened. The memories of the op you had just finished coming to the forefront of your mind.

“Uh, it went well. Wasn’t without a few hiccups, though.”

Her eyes bore into your eyes, searching them and realising you didn’t want to talk about it here, she nodded with understanding and then turned to face the rest of the team who stood quietly, watching the interaction between the both of you.

“Guys, I’m gonna brief Agent L/N on the BAU. Can you guys go to the briefing room where Penelope will discuss the newest case we have? I’ll do the same with y/n.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” JJ said and satisfied, Emily began to walk off and signalled for you to follow her into her office.

When the both of you entered her office, JJ turned to Garcia and put her hand on her shoulder.

“I dunno, Garcia. I’d say they definitely know each other.”

Garcia turned and replied, “I’ve never heard Emily laugh like that.”

“Neither have I, babygirl. Come on guys.” Derek said and then they all walked up to the briefing room.

                ✧── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

Shutting the door behind her, the dark-haired woman moved to sit in her chair and patted the table, prompting you to sit on the corner of the table, legs crossed, facing Emily.

“I still can’t believe you’re here, Em.”

“Me too, hun. So have you been, honestly?”

You sighed wearily, “I’m okay. But God, Em. It was bad. Like really bad.”

“What happened? Last I heard, you were on bodyguard detail.”

Your mind flashed back to a year ago...

“Hi, Em.” You sighed.

“God, it’s good to hear your voice. How are you? How’s the op going?”

“Good, I guess. I can’t really talk that long because otherwise they’ll get suspicious but it’s a bit tedious at the moment. I’m still stuck on bodyguard duty looking after Hart.” You said quickly, glancing around, ready to act if a danger presented itself.

“What have you found out so far?” Emily’s voice crackled down the phone.

“Not much. But there have been talks about...”

“Y/n?”

“Talks about human trafficking.” You let out on a breath, feeling sick to your stomach. “I’ve heard whispers about it but the only way I’m actually going to find anything useful is by moving to the books.”

“Shit, y/n. How are you going do that?”

“My handler and I have a few ideas of how to make it happen but nothing is set in stone as of yet. We just have to act quickly because if the business is really a front for trafficking, we’re gonna have a major problem on our hands.”

Emily hummed in agreement. She knew if it turned out that the global enterprise you were currently infiltrating were actually dealing in trafficking, then it meant there was an international ring on Interpol’s radar.

Silence filled the air for a few moments before you spoke again.

“Em, I need to ask something of you and I hope you understand where I’m coming from.”

“What is it, y/n?”

“I think we need to take a break. Nothing is wrong between us at all.” You added quickly, when Emily began to protest. “I just need to put all my focus in this mission and if I’m constantly worrying about them listening to my calls and finding out about you and then doing something to...hurt you, I wouldn’t be able to take it.”

“I can take care of myself, y/n. I am the head of Interpol, you know.”

“I know. I just...I need to maintain a clear mind and I can’t risk losing you. I’ve already lost everyone I care about. I can’t lose you too. Never you. Please, Emmy.” You whispered, your voice breaking slightly.

Emily sighed, as much as it hurt to admit it, she knew what you were saying was right. You did need to remain rational and logical for the remainder of this mission. Besides, as the Head of Interpol, she would still be able to keep tabs on you which would make her worry a lot less.

“I know. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you either.” She sighed again, her heart breaking as she continued to speak. “I’ll monitor your progress through your handler but...please be careful, y/n.”

“I will. I have to. Not just for the potential victims but for you too. Because I am coming back to you. This isn’t a goodbye-”

“It’s a ‘see you soon’.” Emily finished. “Take care. I love you, Y/N L/N.”

“I love you too, Emily Prentiss.”

When Emily disconnected the call, you pulled the phone from your ear and stared at it in your hand until it became blurry.

No, that wasn’t your phone. That’s your eyes.

You rubbed your tears away and sucked in a harsh breath. Get it together. Take down these bastards. Then you can go back to Emily.

You looked up at Emily, pushing the previous memory to the back of your mind, and saw her do the same.

“I was on bodyguard detail but I did end up going to the books not long after we spoke.”

“How?”

“I got shot.” You said quietly, dreading Emily’s reaction.

“What?!” Emily screamed, jumping out of your chair.

“Em, it’s fine. I’m okay.” You said quickly, and when Emily saw you really were okay, she sat back down.

“Anyway, as I was saying, I got moved to audit and even though they only put me on the legit books, I noticed a few discrepancies and took my findings back to Mr Hart.”

Even his name brought a scowl to your face.

“After a while, he began to trust me and then put me on the real books. And he told me what he was doing.”

You shuddered, bile rising through your throat.

Emily placed her hand over yours and you clutched it, her touch bringing you back to reality.

“God, Em.” You closed your eyes, the memories rushing back.

She didn’t say anything. She just held her breath, waiting for you to continue.

“Kids, Emily. Kids. They were trafficking women and children. Both labour and sex trafficking. They were selling them. Girls who were practically the same age as Lacy.” Your voice broke as tears of anger filled your eyes.

Emily’s heart split in two when you mentioned your sister whom you had lost when you were barely a child yourself.

“How can people be that sick?” You choked out.

Emily stood up from her chair and moved to sit beside you on her desk. She then pulled you back into her arms and you wrapped your arms around her waist, seeking comfort.

“It’s okay, y/n. You’re okay. So are the victims. Because you saved them. You helped take down the ring and imprison those assholes who are now stuck behind bars for the rest of their lives without a soul to talk to. You did good, y/n.”

Emily soothed, running her hand through your hair and down your back. After a few minutes, your sobs stilled and you stayed huddled in her arms, not wanting to leave.

“My first day here and I’m already crying.” You joked, laughing dryly through your remaining tears.

“I’m glad you’re here, Emmy.”

“Me too, y/n.” Emily replied, resting her chin on top of your head.

                ✧── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

After you composed yourself, Emily gave you a breakdown of the BAU as well as the new case that you were going to be investigating.

An unsub based in Arizona was targeting couples, murdering them and then dumping them in a deserted area.

And now you were currently with the rest of the team in Arizona’s local PD precinct where you were standing in front of a whiteboard covered in photos.

“So what are your thoughts, y/n?” JJ asked.

“Sorry?” You blinked, having been interrupted from your train of thought.

“About the unsub? Why do you think he’s doing it?” She explained.

“A number of theories, really. He could be jealous of their happiness. He could have recently been dumped.”

“But?” Rossi prompted.

“But, I think one theory is much more likely.”

“And what’s that?” Derek asked, now curious.

“These couples. Though they’re of different races, they all hold similarities. For example, the first two vics are both white with a young child, just like the fifth and sixth vics. And the third couple are young and in the same socio-economic bracket as the seventh and eighth couple,”

“I’m not following, y/n.” Emily asked, confused.

“Okay, so. These couples are all parents, relatively young, and from the same social and economical background. And their children have no family other than their parents. Meaning-”

“They’ll have to be put into the system.” Spencer interrupted, now understanding your theory.

“Exactly. Maybe the unsub was one of these kids. He probably lost his parents when he was young, most likely unexpectedly.”

“And was then put into the foster care system because he had no one else to care for him.” Emily continued.

“I’ll get Garcia on it.” She said, taking her phone out of her pocket, presumably to do just that.

“Good catch, y/n.” JJ said, smiling as you did the same, thanking her.

                ✧── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

After your revelation, you were alerted that another couple had been murdered. Their bodies having been found in their homes this time, rather than in a deserted area.

You picked up the bed sheet that was covered in blood and sighed, “He’s gaining confidence.”

“But he’s also getting careless. Killing the victims in their homes may be bold but it leaves more room for error. He’s more likely to make a mistake.” JJ said as she snapped photos of the crime scene.

“One can only hope.” You muttered under your breath.

Then you both joined the rest of the team who were outside the house, standing behind the yellow tape. You stood before the growing crowd, assessing their behaviour. The unsub hadn’t returned to any of the crime scenes but there was a first time for everything.

As you all huddled in a group discussing your thoughts and findings, you glanced over to the large news van that had pulled up and saw something that caught your attention. It was a man wearing a baseball cap that covered the majority of his face. And as far as you could tell, he didn’t appear to be there with anyone and wasn’t conversing with any of the neighbours.

“Em, 12 o’clock. Blue cap, grey jeans.” You murmured under your breath, just loud enough for the Unit Chief to hear.

“I see him. You go, I’ll cover you.”

You nodded and began to walk towards the news van pretending to act as if you were going to make a statement about the crime scene. You pulled the yellow tape over your head and glanced at the man. He locked eyes with you and then his brows narrowed.

Shit. He made you.

He started to back away slowly and when he saw you still looking at him, he began to run.

“Federal agent!” You shouted, running after him as you heard Emily calling your name behind you.

You took off in a sprint and followed him down a narrow alleyway, jumping over a few fences to catch up to him. You chased him into a playground where kids were playing.

When he jumped onto a wall by the swings, he drew a gun from behind him and aimed at you and the young girl in front of you. You hurled yourself and covered the girl as you heard the gun go off and screams follow.

You looked up and saw the man had disappeared. Sighing, you glanced down at the girl who was around 7 and asked, “You okay?” She nodded, clinging to your waist.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” You soothed, wrapping your arms around her.

“Y/N!” You heard a familiar voice call out.

“I’m good.” You shouted back before standing up, turning to face Emily and the rest of your team.

Then you turned to face the girl, “what’s your name?”

“Nancy.”

“Hi, Nancy. I’m y/n. Nancy, can you do me a favour and point out your mum to me? She must be worried.”

She pointed over to a young woman who was looking around frantically until her eyes landed on her daughter and she came running up to you and the young girl. She gathered the girl in her arms and thanked you before walking away when your team appeared.

“He got away. Son of a bitch was about to shoot that baby.” You grabbed your arm and winced lightly. You must have landed on your arm when you protected Nancy. You pulled your hand away and was surprised to see it covered in blood.

“Oh my god, you were shot! JJ, get a medic, now!” Emily ordered as she ran to your side, taking off your jacket to assess the injury.

“Emily. Em. Emmy.” You finally got the raven-haired woman’s attention when you rested your unbloodied hand on hers. “I’m fine. It’s just a graze.”

“You’re going to the hospital.”

“No, I’m not. I’m helping you catch this bastard.”

“Y/N-”

“I’m okay, Emmy. I’ve had worse bullet wounds than this. I got shot whilst undercover, remember?”

“You got shot undercover?” JJ asked, joining you and the rest of the team with a paramedic following closely behind.

“Yeah, I had to get my handler to shoot me so I could infiltrate this trafficking ring I was trying to take down.”

“Oh, I heard about that. The Hart guy ran it, right?” Derek asked as you nodded before falling quiet when you saw Emily’s pale face.

“What? What is it?” You asked, concerned about her change in behaviour.

“You had Agent Crawley shoot you?”

“Em-”

“You got shot on purpose?!” Emily shouted, outraged at the carelessness for your own health and well-being.

“I had to.” Your jaw hardened, now getting annoyed at her outburst in front of the team.

“You had to? No, you didn’t. That was stupid. You hurt yourself on purpose.”

“Emily Prentiss!” You said loudly, effectively shutting the former up as the team continued to watch the both of you.

“A word. Now.” You ordered.

“Do not make me repeat myself, Emily.” You added when she didn’t move.

You both walked away from the team and the medic who stood awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable. When you were alone, you started talking.

“Emily, I did what I had to do. You would have done the same in my position.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I figured Crawley would have told you. Besides, it was a minor wound. Barely a scratch. But enough to convince Hart to take me out of bodyguard duty and put me on the books. If I had to, I’d do it again. Same goes for just now with that young girl.”

“You need to stop.” Emily said.

“I’m sorry?” You asked, folding your arms.

“You need to stop seeing every child as Lacy.”

“How dare you?” You whispered, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“Y/N-”

“No, Em. I don’t want to hear it.”

You angrily wiped the betraying tear that fell from your eye and walked away, pushing past the BAU agents who just stood dumbfounded.

                ✧── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

After your confrontation with Emily at the playground, you had driven back to the precinct where the team joined you.

You looked at all the evidence that had been collated so far and realised that all the victims’ children had attended a youth centre to take part in extra curriculars. You assumed the unsub had to have used that as his hunting ground.

You deliberated with Garcia who was able to locate the man responsible for the murders as he used to attend the youth centre up until his parents were killed in a mugging outside the centre when he was 12. After that, he had been bounced around several foster homes before finally taking a job at the youth centre as an arts and crafts teacher.

You all geared up and teamed up, you with JJ whilst Emily teamed up with Derek. You hadn’t spoken to her since earlier that day, still hurting over her words.

As you infiltrated the youth centre, you located the unsub and managed to disarm him and restrain him. He was now resting in a jail cell and the rest of you were back at Quantico, standing in the bullpen.

The team all gathered up their things and headed to the lift, ready to rest after a draining day. You went to follow them before being stopped by the call of your name. You turned and saw Emily standing at the top of the stairs, similarly to when you first arrived 2 days ago.

Wow, how had it only been 2 days. It felt like a month had passed.

“Give her a chance to explain, y/n. I’ve never seen her like this. She must really care about you.” JJ said, smiling softly as she rubbed your arm in a comforting embrace.

You nodded lightly, heeding her advice as you made your way up to Emily’s office. Entering the room, you slumped your bag against the wall and walked up to the desk where Emily stood.

“I’m sorry.” Emily said, breaking the silence. “Not for what I said but for the fact that it hurt you.”

“Emily-”

“No, it’s my turn to talk.” She interrupted, gesturing for you to sit in her chair as she sat on the desk in front of you.

“I meant what I said, y/n. You do need to stop seeing everyone as Lacy. She’s gone. And I’m so sorry that she is. But if you continue seeing her face in every child you encounter, whether it be ones you save...or the ones you don’t, nonetheless, you’ll burn yourself out. Soon all you’ll see is her and that’ll consume you and ruin you.”

“How can I not see her, Em? I lost her.” You whispered, your voice breaking.

“I know. And I’m so sorry you did. But if you continue like this. If you continue purposely putting yourself in harms way, at some point, you’ll get hurt to the point of no return. And then I’ll lose you. And I can’t lose you. You’re the first person who’s ever meant this much to me. You’re all I have, y/n.” She continued, tears falling from her eyes making your heart break.

You stood up and wrapped her hand in yours, “You’re all I have too, Emmy.” You replied, bringing your joined hands to your lips.

A few beats of silence passed before the tension lifted and Emily’s hand moved to cover your cheek. She brought your face closer to hers and placed her lips against yours.

It was a gentle but passionate kiss. The first one you had shared since before you had gone undercover.

You wrapped your arms around Emily’s waist and rested your face against her neck.

“I love you, Emmy.”

“I love you too, y/n. With all my heart.”

[maximoffwitch]

kindly asking for any tara x reader fic recs? 🤲🏼

[maximoffwitch]

after about 45 minutes of deep scrolling.. I FOUND IT!!!

hiiiiii does anybody know that jj x reader fic where jj is picking between you and will and in the end she picks you and to prove it to you she takes off her ring??

[maximoffwitch]

oh this is absolutely EVERYTHING. 🙂‍↕️😵‍💫😋

A Job Offer

One Shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds 

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!Reader

Genre: Angst and Smut

Words: 5.2k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, NSFW, smut, cursing, fingering, oral, overstimulation, strap on use (JJ!recieiving)

Summary: Despite you and JJ not being a couple, you do share nights together, nights that are not so innocent. However, when a job offer comes your way, you have to decide whether it'd be better to stay at the BAU or accept your new position, and like it or not, JJ has a part to play in this choice.

A/n: Hi, the kids don’t exist in this timeline. Also the timeline doesn’t timeline cause JJ ain’t really liaison, but I care not. Also, leaving it on a sorta cliffhanger without a part 2 cause I’m mean xoxo

"I'm going to cum!" JJ screamed up to the ceiling, her hips moving erratically to and from the mattress, "Fuck baby, so good."

You were fucking her just how she liked it, dirty, rough and hard, pounding the strap in and out of her so fast it became a blur of skin slapping against skin, the dildo only appearing in rapid intervals. JJ's hands were encouraging your every thrust, her nails etching their distinct curved signature into the supple skin of your ass. 

"Do it," you encouraged, soaking up every desperate moan. With a slip of your hand between your bodies, you rubbed the older woman's clit, gently enough so that the sensitivity gained from the last hour of fucking was not piqued but hard enough so that the pressure would give her the needed edge over her impending orgasm, "Cum for me JJ." 

"Yes!" She cried out, her release simultaneously sparking life into every cell in her body and freezing it in its tracks. Her hands stayed stagnant but firm, keeping you fully sheathed inside her as her body shuddered and her hips ground in circles, lengthening her orgasm to its full extent. 

Slowly, a steady breathing pattern was adopted between the two of you. The hands holding you close slackened, allowing you room to pull out and fall back onto the mattress with a content sigh falling from your lips. The moment was only made better when soft blonde locks tickled your chest, and you glanced down to see JJ's head settling on your shoulder. Metal clacked quietly - fingers expertly unbuckling the harness from your hips, allowing you to shuffle it off and place it aside. 

A comfortable silence soon fell over your bedroom, warm and lulling. Your fingers traipsed mindlessly up and down JJ's spine whilst she wrapped an arm around your waist, nestled closer into your neck, and planted light kisses over the salty skin. It was easy in times like these to lose yourself, forget the daily struggles that fed your sullen mind, and imagine that life could always be filled with the contentedness you were given a brief taste of. A daydream come true, but the reality was much crueler. 

"I've got to go," JJ sighed after a minute or two, showing no intent or want of moving, "Will's back in an hour." 

"A few more minutes," you grumbled, running a hand through her hair and pulling her body in a little closer. 

No argument was made, and JJ wholeheartedly accepted her fate, shuffling her body half atop yours and moving her kisses higher to the fine line of your jaw. The finite moment lingered with sweet kisses and caresses shared, and soon, you succumbed to sleep. It's a simple but treasured thing, sleeping next to the person you've found yourself undeniably falling for. It's seeing another side of them and letting them see a secret side of you when you have no control over how you look - peaceful or softly snoring from the exhaustion of a long work day, as JJ often did. 

The cold woke you, alongside the quiet shuffling from the far side of the room. It was never a fond sight to sit up, rubbing well-earned sleep from your eyes, and see JJ dressing herself, going over what excuse she'd come up with to tell her fiance. 

"Shit," she groaned, walking over to the bed and placing a chaste kiss on your forehead, "I didn't mean to wake you." 

"It's okay," you smiled, "What time is it?" 

"Almost eight. We slept for about an hour," JJ rushed to say, double-checking her phone before tossing it into her bag, "I've got to go, but I'll see you tomorrow." 

You tried your best to give her a convincing smile and a cordial nod, though you knew it was anything but. She was trying to hide the obvious stress running through her system from sleeping in too long and, most likely, being late back home. So you - as always - found yourself empathising.

"Drive safe," you said, your false smile still intact. 

It wasn't hard to fall back asleep once you heard the front door to your apartment close. You'd become accustomed to warding off unpleasant thoughts after encounters and partings with JJ. The two options were either to feed them and entrap yourself into believing a false reality or to acknowledge that life just isn't pretty or straightforward, it's a brutal battlefield, and the only way to survive is to face the truth of a shitty situation. That acceptance kept you strong and tactile in how you responded to the predicament you'd found yourself in. So, sleep came easy, knowing you'd already surmounted the horrors that fought to keep you awake. 

The following morning was, as it turned out, not so ordinary. The routine check of your emails had you up on your feet and pacing, overcome with utter bewilderment. A job offer to run the Washington FBI office for counterterrorism had landed in your lap a while ago, and you'd taken a gander in submitting your name into the mix. In honesty, it was a drunken gander, and you had never expected to be considered, let alone chosen. But life had a funny way of surprising you then. 

Though the start of the day was somewhat unexpected, you treated it as any other, getting breakfast, driving to work, and sitting down at your desk to sift through mountains of paperwork. You'd worked in the BAU for a while, and it only dawned on you with thoughts of leaving that the work grew to be tiresome, cases were exhausting, each taking its toll on your psyche. Yet the gratification of putting shitty ass people behind bars just couldn't be matched. Plus, you adored the team. They were your family; you settled down in Virginia, and, well, there was JJ. The pros seemed to outweigh the cons, but you hadn't had time to do more research, so assuming that staying at the BAU was the better option wasn't exactly foolproof. 

"You're moving to Washington?!" A high-pitched squeal came from behind you, and you felt everyone turn to look at you as Garcia stormed towards your desk. 

Soaring from your chair, you yanked the blonde by her arm and pulled her into the hallway, ignoring the curious looks from the rest of the team.

"First of all, stalking me… Not cool," you bitterly whispered before taking a deep breath and quelling your tone. In times like these, it was hard not to find the technical analyst's snooping infuriating, but at the end of the day, the truth was her checkups came from a place of worry, "Second, I haven't decided yet." 

A flash of hurt crossed her features, "So you are considering it?" 

There was no use playing coy, "Yes. It's a good job, Garcia and I'd be stupid not to." 

"I just," she said, briefly pausing and giving you a watery smile, "I know. I'm happy for you. I just don't want to see you go." 

It was safe to assume every little outburst this woman had was down to her rampant emotions and her fundamental problem with change. That's why it was hard to stay mad at her. She honestly didn't want to see you go and was most likely beating herself up for feeling so conflicted. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't known what that felt like. 

"Come here," you open your arms to her, and she gladly accepts the gesture by falling into them, "I promise I'll tell you what I decide. Plus, I'd never let you miss the opportunity to throw me a killer goodbye party." 

"You better not," she grumbled, pulling back to fix her hair, "We've got a case, by the way. Hotch is waiting in the briefing room." 

"Well, rally the troops, and I'll see you there."

The briefing went as briefings do: information was handed out, and vivid imagery was shared and imprinted into your head forever. However, the presence of JJ next to you did help. She had a calming aura, and all you'd have to do when you felt as though the world was a shitty place - which it very much is - was turn to her and admire how her smile could be so warm, how her fleeting reassuring touches would pacify your sunken mood and how throughout her whole time at the BAU she'd remained so strong and still so loving, and you'd feel fine. 

"You okay?" JJ asked as you walked to the car, "I heard Garcia this morning, and you seemed off during the briefing." 

"I'm all good," you lied, giving her a smile when she opened the passenger door for you, "I have a lot on my mind, that's all." Not a lie. 

She appeared sceptical, her eyes zoning in on you and creasing every so slightly at the sides. But she must have pushed it aside whilst closing the door and making her way around the car because the next thing she said was, "Well, I'd be happy to take your mind off it later." 

You chuckled at that. It was no secret that JJ had a high libido, and hell, if you didn't love it, particularly in times when she'd ravish you all night and would still have the energy to go again the following morning. It made you feel the most wanted you'd ever felt during the entire duration of your hapless life. The passion bred in nights spent together was mind-numbing. It felt like you found your escape with each other - away from the team, your home lives and the constant strain of cases. Somehow, even the mention of your nights together, previous or upcoming, had a way of putting your mind at rest and eliciting a beaming smile to grace your lips. 

"You know I'd never say no," you said, smirking, admiring how JJ mirrored your facial expression as she started the car and headed to the airstrip.

It was the truth; you'd never found a good enough reason to decline her offers, and the likelihood was you wouldn't. She had a way of twisting you around her fingers and never letting you forget it. Lunches, catch-ups, and, even once, a weekend trip away had been cancelled, and to think all it took was one phone and a particular husky voice at the other end of the line requesting your company. 

So, true to word, after a long day, you snuck into JJ's hotel room and found a pleasant surprise. She lay sprawled out on the bed, stark naked, a tantalising smirk adorning her lips. One index stretched out then curled in a come hither motion, and you practically leapt. 

"Someone's eager," JJ chuckled, cutting herself with a moan as your lips descended to her neck.

"Can you blame me?" You said, words slightly muffled, with you nipping and sucking at JJ's throat. 

"Mmmm, I'm not complaining," she hums as she tilts her head back and grabs the neckline of your t-shirt, "Though I will complain about you still wearing clothes," she moved her hand down to the lining of your shirt and tugged, "Off." 

Sitting up, you rid yourself of your shirt and bra, much to JJ's delight. No matter how many times she's seen you naked, she still looks at you like it's the very first time, and that in itself gets you wetter than the thought of all your exes combined. 

By the time you were done revealing your upper body, hands were already grasping at the waistband of your trousers. The irony of her earlier comment staring you right in the face was too hard to ignore, so you let out a breathy laugh whilst saying, "Now look who's eager." 

To that comment, JJ stopped her efforts to take off your trousers and instead used them to yank you forward, the tip of her nose brushing against your stomach. She darted her head down and harshly bit the side of your hip bone with a growl. You had to hold your bottom lip between your teeth to stop a moan from spilling out. 

After her display of dominance, you knew two things: JJ wanted to be in control tonight, and by the look in her eyes, if you weren't naked soon, you'd face some heavy consequences. 

"Okay, okay," you surrendered, helping her remove the last barriers between your naked bodies. 

Instantly, she had you on your back. Stationed between your legs, she looked down at you with blown-out pupils, shamelessly taking in the sight of your bare body on display. 

"Stunning," she whispered, sounding more like she was talking to herself than to you, but you seemed to blush regardless. 

JJ left you no time to repay the compliment before her lips crashed down on yours, and her tongue demanded entrance, which you readily granted. She swirled the muscle around your mouth in a practised dance, stopping now and then to nibble at your lips, then going right back in. The way she kissed was addictive, and often, you thought you could come undone just from it alone. She'd perfected the art of being rough yet gentle, fast yet slow, passionate yet loving. It set your whole body alight, made your throat dry, and your knees weak. Even when laid down, you felt your body failing you, the mattress against your back a reassuring fail-safe. 

Tender kisses fell lower, marking an invisible path to your collarbone, where they took their time dotting an array of scarlet blotches into your skin. JJ knelt back, smirking as her eyes darted over the canvas of bruising marks before she got back to work, lowering herself back down to the juncture of your breast. There, she became softer, pecking lightly from side to side till she was close enough to encapsulate a firm nipple into her mouth and lather it with her tongue. She knew your body so well - too well, you sometimes thought - you hadn't even needed to mourn the isolated attention to one breast before a warm hand cupped neglected flesh and began to knead. 

"Oh god," you whimpered, pushing yourself further into JJ's mouth and hand. 

You felt her lips curl around your breast, likely proud of herself for getting you worked up so fast despite knowing perfectly well she could do so with much less in her arsenal. Gloating put aside, JJ brought her free hand resting beside you to your thigh, squeezing the muscle - her thumb skimming the outskirts of where you almost certainly needed her. She continued to tease, and a protest lingered on your tongue, watching JJ brazenly settle on paying homage to your stomach, planting kisses high and low, but never as low as you wanted them. The pit in your stomach grew bigger, and the ache between your legs became more painful, yet the blonde paid no attention to your dejected whines. 

Finally, when even the rutting of your hips did nothing, and the wriggling about only brought JJ back to your neck, you half huffed, half moaned, "Do I need to beg?"

Oh, so pleased with herself, JJ retorted, "I'd like that very much."

Choosing your release over your pride, you grabbed the sides of JJ's face, pulling her up so she was at eye level before confidently saying, "Please fuck me, JJ. I want to feel your fingers inside me. I want you to make me cum so hard that I can't walk tomorrow."

"Mmm," she hummed, her hands squeezing both your breast and thigh, "Well, since you asked so nicely." 

The cursed thumb that had been endlessly teasing you moved, brushing lightly over your clit. As brief as the stimulation was, it was enough to cause you to jolt and grip the bedsheets. JJ retired her hand from your breast and clung to the pillow behind you, fingers running through the wet mess between your legs. 

"I love how wet you get for me," she husked, placing a quick peck on your lips and ignoring your disapproving grunt to being denied more, "I want to watch you." 

Just as she made her plans known, she thrust two fingers inside you and watched your mouth open in a gasp, biting her lip at the erotic sight. You burned, not only from her eager gaze but from the biting pleasure that ran its way along your spine and caused all your muscles to tense. The room faded to dark, your eyelids drooping, letting you hone in on the sea of sensations swimming through your body. Your chest rose and fell with every sharp intake of air you took, and it only became worse when JJ started to move, sliding her fingers out and then plunging them back in. She did this over and over until you felt as though you might burst. There were bulbs of sweat forming over your brow. Your lips were permanently parted. Your jaw shook with each breath. You were so close to the edge but not close enough. Then a thumb began caressing your clit, and you almost screamed in relief. 

"Yes," you hissed, hips bucking up and down as JJ angled her fingers to run over ridged flesh, "I'm going to cum."

"Open your eyes," she tenderly whispered, kissing your temple, then leaning back again, "Look at me." 

You did as instructed, watched JJ sway above you, saw the reverence in her eyes, and gazed into them as you felt the knot loop tighter and tighter in your stomach. She moved faster, using her hips to fuck into you harder. In a flash of white, your legs were shaking, your fingers tearing into the bed linen as your release poured out of you right onto JJ's fingers. All you could do was loop your arms around JJ and muffle your shaky cries into her neck, praying you wouldn't be heard. 

The two of you stayed intertwined like that for a while, her fingers still inside you, moving slowly and steadily until you winced from being so sensitive, and she delicately withdrew. You had to blink to make out the room decor again: a wooden bedside table with a flickering lamp atop it, a sorry-looking armchair sitting idly in the corner and a dainty coffee table beside it. 

"You okay?" JJ smiled above you, brushing strands of hair out of your face. 

Returning her smile, you gave her a nod before pulling her down for a passionate kiss. You threaded your hands through her silky hair, scratching at her scalp and enjoying the content sighs she let out. There was a harmony to how you and JJ fucked. Where you'd often find in relationships one person getting off a significant amount of times more, a giver and receiver dynamic if you will, that was nothing like what you two had. Together, you walked the line of balance well, but at that moment, feeling her above you, tasting her tongue in your mouth, and remembering the way she looked at you whilst giving yet another brain-numbing orgasm, it made you want to give her more - give her everything. 

You wanted to make sure that come the following days, she'd be so sore she wouldn't even consider letting Will touch her, let alone fuck her. Trying to eliminate the possessiveness and jealousy that lay dormant within you was useless, so in times like these, you used it for good. You could show JJ that no one else could do this for her. Her body was painted into your mind so clearly that you could be blinded and still tell it was her from touch alone. You could have your memory taken away, but with a pencil and paper, you'd draw the dips of her hips, the creases beside her eyes, and the jutting knuckles that run along her slender fingers. No one else knew her body like you; the need to remind her of it was dire. 

Using her kiss befuddled mind to your advantage; it was easy to flip the tables and trap JJ beneath you. The move earned you a shocked yelp, though the second your lips found a dusky nipple, no complaints were heard. Only sultry moans warmed your ears. 

Palms pushed the back of your head down whilst JJ arched to fit more of herself into your mouth, and you dutifully took her in. It didn't matter that you could hardly breathe, not when you could feel and hear how JJ's breath was catching in her throat and how her heart was hammering against her chest. 

After giving the older woman's breast the much-needed attention they deserved, you sought your sights lower. Leaving a shimmering trail down JJ's taut stomach, you crawled back on the bed and positioned yourself comfortably between two muscled thighs. A sharp inhale from above, and hands fisting in your hair were sign enough for you to drive forward and deliver a long lick along JJ's slit, closing your eyes to enjoy the bitter flavour of her exploding over your tastebuds. 

It wasn't long before you worked JJ up into a wiggling mess. It was painstakingly evident from the tireless efforts of the blonde's buckling hips that the lack of notice of her clit was becoming a problem. Taking pity, you sought to eradicate JJ's frustrations. With one final up swipe of your teasing tongue, you brought your lips to her needy clit and sucked. The gratification echoed around the hotel room as JJ slapped a palm over her mouth to keep quiet. 

You kept going, alternating between sucking and licking, occasionally moving south to tease JJ's cunt with the stiffened end of your tongue, then returning to her clit. 

"Don't stop," JJ breathily begged, "Don't you dare stop."

And you didn't, not for a second. You continued lathering JJ with unbridled pleasure, coaxing her body into a quivering mess until the muscles in her stomach were painfully tense and only then did you ease two fingers inside her. The pace you immediately set was vigorous, thrusting in and out of her so quickly her body was struggling to keep up. With her head flung back, JJ came with your name on her lips, breathily panting. Yet, still, you wanted more. 

Sitting up, you waited for JJ to regulate her breathing as she held tight to your forearms and only then did you start moving your fingers again. Nestling your head in her neck, you moved faster, finding and hitting a spot deep inside JJ that had her digging her nails into your skin, marring you with crescent moons dotted in red. The pain only motivated you to keep going, fucking into her harder until she was all but screaming and sure to be heard. You didn't care. She was perfect like this: panting, out of control and solely focused on what you were doing to her. 

Your arm began to protest; it ached and cramped, but you fought hard against it, using your body to drive in and out of JJ's exhausted pussy. Over and over, she spoke your name, hushed this time, as her awareness of where she was prevailed. 

Sensing JJ's orgasm from the pulsing clenches around your fingers, you snuck your thumb over a tender clit and added another finger to your thrusts. The additional force sent her toppling over the edge, but you didn't stop even then. You continued to fuck her right through her orgasm, biting into the flesh of her neck to keep her crying out. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!' JJ cried out, "I-"

She never finished, a third orgasm rapidly washing over her, snapping her spine and leaving her motionless, half off the bed. Her jaw was trembling, and her eyes wedged closed, but the starting of a contented smile was tugging the side of her lips. When she slumped down on the mattress, she was boneless and limp, her chest heaving as she struggled to draw in steady breaths, "Fuck," she finally whispered, her eyes still closed and a tear falling down the side of her cheek, "Fuck." 

Settling down next to her, resting on one elbow, you mindlessly traced patterns along her glistening stomach, smirking proudly to yourself. Aftercare had always been a big thing between the two of you, and after what you'd just done, she looked like she needed it. So you stayed that way for a while, laid down together, occasionally sharing innocent kisses and soft smiles until you wound up in each other's arms. JJ lay atop you, her leg becoming a blanket to your waist, her head and breath a chest warmer. 

"When were you going to tell me," JJ asked, and you looked down to see her eyes already on you. 

Moving strands of silky blonde hair behind JJ's ear, you give her a questioning look, "Tell you about what?" 

The question seemed to infuriate her. She shuffled out of your embrace and leaned back against the headboard, giving you a blank stare. "You don't want to go," JJ proudly stated her opinion as fact, arms folded across her chest as a finger steadily taps away at her forearm, "You know you'll get bored sitting behind a desk so much."

Brushing off the fact she had a point and focussing on remaining civil but not coming off as a pushover, you held your ground, "It's a good opportunity, and I'm not not considering taking it," you were silently begging her to understand, your eyebrows knitted together and lip wedged between your teeth.

"Come on, you can't be serious," she humorlessly laughed. The audacity of her tone gave you half a mind to walk out. You didn't, though, because this had to happen at some point, be it now or in a few days. 

"What's left for me here?" you asked, eyes trained on the blonde, your finger under her chin keeping her from looking away and trying to escape. If she wanted you to stay, so desperately as she seemed to, she owed you this, "Give me one good reason I should stay." 

Her lips parted, her jaw moving up and down in small increments. It was like the words she wanted to say were there, but she was fighting to get them out. You gave her time, looking at her with expectant eyes, softening your gaze to encourage whatever was trapped in her bobbing throat, but nothing came. Then her mouth snapped shut as though someone had tugged on an invisible string sewn through pink velvety lips, permanently sealing them. 

The silence became too loud. It sought to engulf you, swallow you up so that all you'd hear was the sound of your own broken heart beating so painfully loud it made your chest ache. Your arms felt limp as you slung them to your side and rolled on your back, staring at the ceiling. It felt cold and bare without the promise of another comforting embrace because somehow you knew there was an unspoken realisation that this was truly the end of something. 

The stinging behind your eyes had made itself known fully, and you couldn't handle JJ seeing you like this. Straightening yourself out with a roll of your shoulder and a lengthy exhale, you stood up, threw on your clothes while ignoring the awkward atmosphere that circulated the room and made your way to the door. Turning back before you exited, you sneered, "I thought so," and slammed the door shut behind you. 

To say the next day was awkward would be an understatement. If the team had noticed the tension between you and JJ, which they most likely had, they used their better judgment to ignore it and focus solely on the case. From the corner of your eye, you noticed their regular stares, but you knew it was their way of ensuring you were okay. Once you caught on, you offered small smiles and brief nods that told them all was well, and you were thankful that that was enough to ease their curiosities. 

It wasn't till much later in the day, when you were packing up to head back to the hotel, did JJ acknowledge your existence, and you weren't having any of it. She approached you as you slung your bag over your shoulder and started walking out with Reid and Emily. Instead of doing the mature thing, which would have been to wait for JJ to catch up and deal with your suffocating predicament, you gave her the cold shoulder, ignoring her presence completely and walking out. 

A faint sigh came from the room you'd just vacated, and you fought against your better judgment to head back to the hotel and put the whole day behind you. It was for the best; you needed time to think, and you still had a looming decision hanging over your head. It was a life-changing decision; you couldn't afford to cloud your mind with a frivolous affair. 

With what comfort a shabby mattress could offer, you settled back, opened your laptop, looked at some apartment listings, checked over the job description a couple more times, and re-read the email, indeed confirming you had been offered the job if you wished to take it. Despite your best efforts, the god-forsaken argument continued to play in your head: JJ's dejected look when she was unable to voice her true feelings, the razor-sharp tone she used to admonish you and most of all, her inability to give you the one thing you needed that would have turned the tables and made your decision for you. 

A knock at your door pulled you from said incessant thoughts. You'd have been grateful for the distraction had you not sensed who would likely be your 'knight in shining armour'. Rising and looking through the peephole confirmed your suspicions, and an involuntary groan slipped free. 

"Real mature," JJ quipped. Taking a deep breath and then staring pleadingly into the peephole where she knew you were standing, she tried again, "Sorry. Please, can we talk?" 

The door fractionally opened, enough for you to slip your head out and huff, "I'm exhausted, and I don't think I have the energy to deal with this now." 

"I'll give you one," she muttered under her breath.

"Give me what?" You huff. 

Opening the door to let her in, already fed up with where this conversation was inevitably headed - which was most likely an argument - you move over to lean against the outdated armchair. 

JJ watched your movements as she shut the door and stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, "A reason," she began, looking down at her left hand. You curiously followed her gaze. There on her finger sat an elegant diamond ring, glinting in the lamplight. It was a sickly sight, and the vexing thing was it never used to be. Your stomach lurched, forcing you to avert your gaze to keep yourself from spewing your dinner onto the atrocious carpet. Honestly, it was a mystery that the team wasn't investigating who committed this interior design crime. 

"I don't want you to go. I want you to stay," she took long strides towards you, and you shot your head up to see, in the blink of an eye, JJ was standing tall right above you. Her fingers fidgeted with her engagement ring before she slipped it off and let it fall to the floor. The boldness of the move left you momentarily frozen until you were pulled to your feet by your waist and felt a pair of lips ghosting over yours, "And if you'll have me, I want you."

Tags: @aws-l @babygirlscout @red1culous @7thavenger @sapphicprentiss @five-bi-five-mind @12fluffybunny12 @asensitivecookie @summoned-lust-demon @maxinehufflepuffprincess @whosprentiss @imlike-so-gaydude @taylorswiftsboyfriend @jareguiromanoff @lovelyy-moonlight @patronagrona @paulilvsremus @lostenby @waitaminutebaby @jarexuslover @iliketozoneout | click here to be added to my taglist

[maximoffwitch]

incredibly adorable

request: and if it’s not a bother I’d like to see prompt 5. “Please, look at me. Breathe, god please, breathe” with JJ saying the line after reader gets severely injured during a case. A happy little fluffy ending where reader is doped up on meds in the hospital and starts telling JJ that’s she’s really pretty and being an absolute flirt a/n: hey anon, thank you sm for requesting this! i've decided to write both fics, you can find the other request here! i hope you like it! enjoy <3 warnings: angsty, reader gets shot, fluff, reader is high on pain meds pairing: jennifer "jj" jareau x reader I 1222 words special prompts I special masterlist

This should have been just a regular take down. It was a bit risky, the unsub had barricaded himself into an old warehouse witha currently missing woman, but nothing the BAU hasn't done before.

Well, it should have been.

It all went smooth, you and Derek went in through the back, Hotch and JJ thrugh the front and the rest of the team either covered or went to a side entrance.

The moment you stepped into that warehouse you had a weird feeling. It seemed to be not just completely empty, but also completely clean. The walls were white, the floors were smooth and there wasn't any trash laying around like you'd expect it in an empty warehouse.

You and Derek started to check out every room, never splitting up in the never ending maze of the warehouse. Thankfully, it didn't have too many stories, the three floors being managable to cover for you and your team.

The further you went in, the more you felt that weird pit in your stomach. The two of you went up the stairs, telling the others over your ear piece that your part of the first floor had been clear.

Where the first floor was an endless maze of rooms and corridors, the second floor was completely empty.

No walls, no rooms, no corridors, only a chair with the unsub and his next victim tied to it.

Derek immediately demanded the unsub to drop his weapon, the gun that he was holding against the victim visibly glistening in the cold light from the lamp obove them.

The unsub didn't seem to back down though, the evil sparkle in his eye now falling onto you.

The way his eyes raked over your body, halting at the curve of your hip and the swell of your breasts made the hairs on your body stand up uncomfortably.

Derek and you took another step towards the two, the unsub pressing the gun harder into her temple.

It all happened in a flash, suddenly the gun wasn't pointed at the victim anymore but at you.

The sound of the shot still rang in your ears when you fell down to the floor. There was immediately another shot, probably Derek shooting the unsub, though you couldn't pin-point anything at the moment.

You could hear shouting around you, though your mind was too hazy to think clear. After a moment you could feel a hand on your shoulder slightly shaking you, a hand on your cheek mirroring the movement shortly after.

Even though you could hear what the person was saying to you, it all felt like it was so far away. In a moment of clarity, your eyes opened and you saw your girlfriend, Jennifer Jareau, leaning over you, pressing against your shoulder.

When JJ and Hotch entered the room and she saw you getting shot, she thought that she died in that moment. Her heart dropped, her mouth went dry and she could feel her knees buckle.

She caught herself though, immediately running to you once Derek had taken down the unsub. If it had taken a moment longer it would have been her who shot that son of a bitch.

Once she reached you, all she saw was blood. It wsa everywhere, in your hair, on your face and covering your vest and clothes. She leaned down and pressed her hands over the wound on your shoulder. Tears were in your eyes when she tried to shake you awake.

She wouldn't know what to do if you died now, her whole world now in your hands.

Suddenly your eyes open, just a little bit, and a groan left your lips.

JJ called your name, trying to get your attention.

"Please look at me. Breathe, god please, breathe."

Your head rolled to the side and finally JJ could hear the paramedics arriving at the scene. Derek had to gently take her by the shoulder, pulling her away from you, so the paramedics could get to you.

The blonde didn't leave you ot of her sight for even one second, insisting on riding in the ambulance with you.

She tried to get information out of the emt's, but they didn't know if you would make it either.

They wheeled you into the operation room and JJ could do nothing but wait if you would ever wake up again.

~~~~

The first thing you notic after waking up, was that you were, in fact, not dead. The second thing was your girlfriend - who was currently sporting a very worried expression - looking at her phone, sitting by your bedside. A frown was evident on her face, her eyebrows drawn together and her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

You had to admit that she looked incredibly adorable. Oh? Did you say that out loud?

Suddenly her attention went to you, the worried expression on her face not faltering for a second.

"Baby, are you alright? Can you hear me?" The dazed expression and loopsided smile on your face did nothing to calm JJ's nerves. She looked at you expectedly, waiting for an answer.

"You look so pretty right now, JJ," was all you said before continuing to smile at her again.

"Well, thank you. But I wanted to know if you are in any pain or need anything." JJ still tried to get at least some kind of real answer out of you, but you were still pretty out of it. It made sense after what happened that they gave you some pretty intense pain killers. If she was being honest with herself, JJ was just releived that you didn't seem to be in too much pain at the moment.

The blonde leaned forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Your gaze followed the movement, tears gathering in your eyes with all the love you were feeling for your girlfriend at that simple gesture.

Seeing the tears in your eyes, JJ panicked. "Oh no, why are you crying? Are you hurting? Do you want me to call a nurse?" JJ was rattling off questions while the tears slowly started to make their way down your cheeks. Her hands immediately went to cup them, her thumbs gently wiping away your tears.

"Baby, please talk to me. What's wrong?" JJ was close to calling the nurse when she heard your quiet voice. Almost sheepishly you admit.

"I just love you so much JJ. Thank you for taking care of me and just... being there for me i guess. I really appreciate that."

At that JJ almost broke out in tears herself. Just 12 hours before you were shot, almost dying and now you were so out of it that the only thing on your mind was babbling about how much you loved her and how thankful you were for her.

"I love you too, baby. How about you get some more sleep, huh?" Your girlfriend suggested, slowly stroking your hair in an effort to get you to sleep.

"M'kay, but only if you lay down with me." You were already scooting over and holding up the blanket so she could slide in next to you, all while making the biggest puppy dog eyes at her.

She couldn't help but comply, having grown way too soft since you first started dating.

"Of course baby, anything."

the requests for this event are OPEN! here are the prompts!

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated! i’d like to write more with criminal minds characters, so if you have any ideas/requests lmk!!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueeen

requests open!

taglist: @silvermagnolias@milywatermelon@bigbananaa

[maximoffwitch]

I cried reading your fic. Not because there was anything sad bout it, but it was so beautiful and I’m a sap so I cried. 😭💀

omg ur too cuteeeee i am also a sap so i totally get it 🙂‍↕️ sometimes the fluff is too overwhelming 🥹

[maximoffwitch]

for your eyes only | e. prentiss

summary: you want to find out if your crush likes you back. who better to help you than your four-year-old daughter?

word count: 2.4k

tags: momily!, pure fluff

The bullpen was unusually quiet, the team busy with the more mundane tasks the job required—filling out paperwork, clicking through online trainings sent by cybersecurity, answering miscellaneous phone calls.

You were bored out of your mind, the words on your computer screen starting blur together. Glancing over at your daughter—who joined you at work today due to a lice outbreak at her preschool—you saw she was deeply concentrated on the coloring book in front of her, her tongue just barely sticking out between her lips as she did her best to color between the lines. You knew, at this point, there was no saving your attention span if a four-year-old was more focused than you.

As your eyes looked around for a distraction, scanning over the objects on your desk—the framed photo of you and your wife, the half-empty mug of coffee Penelope dropped off earlier this morning, the miniature Doctor Who phone booth figurine Spencer gave you before he left—a stack of bright pink sticky notes caught your eye, and an idea popped into your head.

After quickly scribbling a few words onto the Post-It, you softly got your daughter’s attention. “Hey, munchkin.”

“Yeah?” Frannie looked up, the marker stilling in her hand.

“Can you do me a favor and bring this to mommy?” You held up the folded piece of paper for her to see. “It’s very important.”

“What is it?” Her nose scrunched as she squinted at the doodled “E” that adorned the outside of your note, and you knew she could tell it was nothing work related. Sometimes she was too smart for her own good.

“It’s a question,” you explained, lowering your voice. “It’s a secret, but do you want to see?”

“Yes!” She exclaimed excitedly and bounced off her seat.

Unfolding the sticky note, you leaned down to show your daughter the writing.

“What’s it say?” Frannie frowned, her excitement dimming just slightly as she remembered she couldn’t yet read.

“It says, ‘I like you. Do you like me? Yes or no?’” you read as let her take the note and examine it. “Mommy will then check one of those boxes, and we’ll find out if she likes me back.”

“You have a crush on mommy?” She looked up at you with awe like she’d just been let in on the biggest secret in the world.

“Shhhh.” You put your fingers to your lips, causing Frannie to do the same. “It’s a secret.”

“Sorry, mama,” she whispered as she moved closer so she was standing in between your knees. “I won’t tell. I promise.”

“I know you won’t, sweet girl.”

“Mommy definitely likes you back.” Frannie covered her mouth slightly to ensure no one could hear her or even read her lips. She was in a room full of FBI agents after all.

“You think?” You bit your lip, pretending to be nervous but actually biting back a smile.

She nodded emphatically, her loosely tied pigtails bobbing up and down. Carefully, Frannie refolded the note and tucked it in her pocket. “Where’s mommy?”

“She’s in her office, upstairs.” You pointed towards your wife’s office, where the door was shut but the blinds were open, and you could see her typing away on her laptop. Knowing her like you did, you knew she could use a break right about now. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, mama, I’m a big girl,” she replied before quickly turning on her heals and scampering away from you.

“Walk please,” you called after her, causing her to slow her footsteps. As you turned your attention back to your computer, you watched out of the corner of your eye as Frannie crawled up the stairs, her tiny legs too small for the steps in a federal building, and you stifled a giggle.

“Hi, sweetie.” You heard JJ’s soft voice address your daughter. “Are you going to find your mommy?”

“Auntie JJ!” Frannie paused her climb and threw herself into the blonde’s arm. Luckily, JJ was prepared for the toddler and caught her with ease. “I go find mommy!”

“You are?” JJ hoisted your daughter onto her hip and walked up the remaining few stairs. “Do you need help finding her?”

You saw Frannie pause, looking over her shoulder back at you, as if asking for help was against your rules. Continuing to type away, you kept your eyes trained on the screen in front of you, knowing the idea of peripheral vision was too complicated for a four-year-old.

“Yes please, JJ,” she admitted quietly, burying her face into JJ’s neck. “Can you help?”

“Of course, honey.” JJ gave your daughter an encouraging smile as she carried the young girl over to her mother’s office.

“Knock, knock.” She tapped her knuckles against the unit chief’s door, doing the best she could with a toddler on her hip and a handful of paperwork in between her fingers. “You have a visitor.”

“Hi mommy!” Frannie squirmed in JJ’s arms, causing the blonde to set her down. As soon as she was free, she ran over to her mom.

“Hi, baby!” Emily greeted, matching her daughter’s enthusiasm as she immediately shut her laptop and lifted the young girl by the armpits and into her lap. “What are you doing here?”

“I have something for you.”

“You do?” Emily gasped before sparing a questioning glance over to JJ, who remained in the doorway and could only shrug with amusement and ignorance.

“Mhmm,” Frannie hummed as she leaned closer to her mother. “But it’s a secret.” She peeked over at JJ, not wanting to share your secret in front of her.

Knowing the language of toddlers all too well, the blonde chuckled and pushed herself off the doorframe. “I’ll leave you two to it. Bye, Frannie.”

“Bye bye, JJ.”

“Can you say thank you to Auntie JJ for bringing you here?” Emily encouraged quietly, her question more of a suggestion.

“Thank you, JJ!” Frannie called out, waving her small hand goodbye.

“You’re welcome, sweetie,” JJ said with a grin before closing the office door halfway behind her.

“So–” Emily slightly shifted her daughter in her lap– “what did you bring me?”

As an answer, Frannie reached into her pocket and pulled out the pink sticky note, which was still folded up but not without a few crumples in it. “It’s from mama,” she said as she held it out for Emily to take.

Emily raised a brow, amused and also curious, and accepted the piece of paper. Despite knowing what it said, Frannie maneuvered herself around so she could see the message as it was unfolded.

Reading your neat but loopy writing, Emily chuckled, her eyes rolling fondly, which was missed by the four-year-old in her lap, who was taking her task quite seriously.

“Mama asked you to give me this?”

“Yes.” Frannie leaned her head back so she could look up at her mother. Her little body was vibrating with a mix of anticipation and excitement. “You like her too, right?”

“Well.” Emily, always one for dramatics, kept her daughter hanging and reached over to grab a pen. Frannie followed her mom’s movements with her doe-eyes, which widened in horror as Emily checked the “No” box.

“Mommy!” She cried as she tried to grab the pen. “Wrong! You do like mama!”

“Frannie, we don’t grab things from people.” Emily craned her neck so she could make eye contact with the miniature version of herself. “I wasn’t done writing with my pen. If you want to use it, you can ask nicely.”

“I’m sorry, mommy,” Frannie said, pouting, her eyes glossy.

“Apology accepted.” Emily gently wiped a stray tear from her daughter’s cheek and pecked a kiss to her temple. “Now, do you want to see what I was going to write?”

“Yes, please.”

Emily did her best to fit her reply on what little room was left on the Post-It, but your note was clearly not meant for an open-ended response. Setting the pen down, she held up the piece of paper so Frannie could grab a hold of it.

“What’d you write, mommy?”

“I wrote, ‘I love you.’”

“Love?” Frannie gasped, her eyes lighting back up with excitement. “You love mama?”

Emily’s heart melted at the innocent eagerness radiating off of her daughter. Oh, to view love through rose-colored lenses.

“I do,” she said softly.

Frannie grinned, exposing her mosaic of baby teeth, and clutched the note to her chest like it was her most prized possession.

“I have to tell mama!” She squealed as she tried to slide off of Emily’s lap.

“Hold on, munchkin,” Emily laughed, tightening her hold playfully. “What happened to keeping secrets, hm?”

Frannie stilled, her tiny hands curling in the fabric of Emily’s blouse. “But it’s a good secret,” she reasoned. “And mama will be so happy!”

“Alright, alright,” Emily relented, releasing her daughter not without a kiss on the top of her head. “Go on, chérie.”

Trotting towards the door, pink sticky note in hand, Frannie waved over her shoulder. “Bye mommy!”

“Bye baby,” Emily called after her, the corner of her mouth quirking up as she watched her daughter march off with pure determination.

As soon as the toddler was out of the room, Emily swiveled in her chair to face the bullpen. Her eyes scanned past the rows of agents until they landed on you, still pretending to work, though she could tell from the not-so-hidden grin twitching at your lips that you’d been watching everything.

Resting her chin on her hand, she gave you a knowing smirk accompanied by a wink. You caught her gaze and lifted a single brow, a gesture half way between challenging and smug.

Emily chuckled under her breath. How you had roped your daughter into your playful antics, she didn’t know, but nonetheless, she was absolutely charmed.

As Frannie approached your desk, you quickly minimized the window on your screen, images too graphic for a toddler to see.

“I did it,” she whispered as you lifted her into your lap. “She wrote back.”

“She did?” You took the note with a mask gasp, like you weren’t watching the whole interaction from your desk. “What’d she say?”

“Read it,” Frannie insisted, tugging on the sleeve of your cardigan as you unfolded the sticky note.

As your eyes landed on the page, your chest tightened at the three words written in all-caps your wife had squeezed beneath the check boxes: I LOVE YOU.

No matter how many times Emily had said—or written—those words to you, they never failed to make your heart flutter. Biting your lip, you tried to suppress the stupid smile threatening to overtake your whole face. Frannie, meanwhile, looked absolutely thrilled.

“She loves you,” she repeated emphatically, as if you hadn’t just been swooning over those three words. “That’s even better than ‘yes.’”

Wrapping your arm around her, you pulled her tightly into your side. “You’re right, sweet girl. It is.”

“Does that mean you’re gonna kiss?”

You choked on a laugh. “Excuse me?”

“If you love each other,” she said slowly, like she was the one explaining something to a toddler, “then you’re supposed to kiss. That’s what happens in Tangled and Frozen and the one where the dogs eat spaghetti.”

“Lady and the Tramp?” You provided, thoroughly amused.

Frannie nodded with grave sincerity. “So, are you gonna kiss mommy?”

You stole a glance up towards your wife’s office, and sure enough, Emily was still watching, her signature Prentiss smirk dancing on her lips. You knew all too well that she could hear your conversation with your daughter, and your suspicions were confirmed when she lifted her brows just enough to say: “Well?”

“Maybe,” you whispered conspiratorially as you tucked the note into the top drawer of your desk for safe keeping. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Frannie agreed, then tapped her finger against her lips.

“That’s my girl.” You nuzzled your nose against hers playfully before lowering her down onto the ground so she could go back to her coloring book.

Just then, your phone pinged with a text message from your wife.

Do you want to kiss me? Yes or no?

Your cheeks warmed, and you felt like a teenager all over again. Immediately, you typed out a response: Yes. Always a yes.

As soon as the message delivered, you heard the telltale sound of Emily’s boots clicking against the linoleum floor as they descended the stairs. You watched as Emily approached your desk, her expression composed and professional, but you could see the smugness shining in her eyes.

“Mommy?” Frannie looked up from her coloring page, her head tilted slightly.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Emily crouched beside her. “Can you cover your eyes for a second?”

Frannie gasped and dropped her purple marker, not even bothering to put the cap on. “Are you gonna kiss mama?”

Emily lifted her gaze to meet yours, playful and daring. “That okay with you?”

You could only nod, any words you could say lost in your throat. Standing up from her squat, Emily leaned over your desk and kissed you. The kiss was slow and soft, both of you still aware you were at work and your daughter was sitting a mere two feet away.

When she pulled back, you wore matching grins, and you were sure you looked like a love-struck idiot.

Frannie peeked between her fingers. “Ewww, gross!”

“Gross?” You laughed at how quickly a four-year-old could change her mind.

“Kisses are yucky!”

“Yucky?” Emily gasped as she pushed herself off your desk and kneeled back down in front of your daughter. “My kisses are yucky?”

Frannie nodded, scrunching her nose.

“Are they yucky now?”

Before Frannie could respond, Emily’s lips were everywhere, soft little pecks on your daughter’s cheeks, her forehead, the tip of her nose. Frannie squealed with delight, wiggling every which way, trying to escape the tickling but clearly loving every second.

“Mommy! Stop!” She giggled, her laughter echoing through the bullpen.

Emily relented, pressing one last kiss under Frannie’s chin. “Never. You’re my little choupinette.”

“Alright, munchkin.” She stood back up, brushing a stray strand of hair from Frannie’s face. “Time to get back to your coloring before Mama and I get in trouble for playing too much at work.”

As if she wasn’t the boss.

Frannie nodded, still glowing, Emily’s lip gloss decorating her face. Catching your wife’s gaze one last time, you smiled softly and pulled open your drawer, glancing down at her handwriting on the sticky note one last time.

It was safe to say she liked you back.

[maximoffwitch]

hiiiiii does anybody know that jj x reader fic where jj is picking between you and will and in the end she picks you and to prove it to you she takes off her ring??