#emily prentiss fluff

[emilys-bangs]

Emily x EMT!reader & stitches on a cheekbone🤍

Thank you for participating :) part of the 800 celebration

Tags: emt!reader, mentions of blood and stitches, the turns have tabled in this one hehe, established relationship, petnames

Word count: 0.6k

It’s strange being on the other side of this. Skin split, sutures pulling taut, the ridges of your teeth digging into your tongue as you bite down on the pain. It burns white-hot across the left side of your face, glazing your eyes with a thin film of tears you can’t hold back.

You blink in an attempt to clear the haze around Emily’s form.

“Is it gonna leave a scar?” She asks, somehow getting the words out while gnawing on her lip. Tension forces her body stiff under her sweater, hurriedly thrown on and half tucked into her pajama pants. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll still be pretty,” you rasp, trying to pull a smile from her. It doesn’t work, her frown slotting deeper, but your doctor does huff an amused breath. “Lily’s got me covered. She never leaves anyone with a scar.”

“Neatest sutures in my class.” Lily promises as she sews your skin shut. Blood pools on your tongue, skin splitting beneath your teeth. You’d refused the local anesthetic; 4 stitches, done in less than five minutes under a skillful hand—hardly worth the sting of the injection. 

Safe to say you’re starting to regret it now.

“You should’ve taken the anesthesia.” Emily says, words now muffled around the torn skin of her thumb. Mind reader, you think, then correct yourself. 

Profiler.

Polypropylene thread pulls against your skin. Sweat cools your neck.

“I’m okay,” you mumble, weirdly transfixed with the way the hospital light pools in her eyes. You always thought it an ugly, harsh thing, but swallowed up by coffee-rich brown it’s almost beautiful. “It’s okay, Em. Doesn’t even hurt that much, can I just—” you hold your sweaty palm out, “can I have your hand, please?” Never mind that you already have one in your grip, your knuckles grinding against each other from her hold.

Emily’s frown remains firm as she wipes her thumb against her sweater and takes your other hand, carefully shuffling close so your arm doesn’t stretch. Her eyes meet yours but don’t stay there for long before sliding to the half-open skin of your cheekbone. “Don’t look at it, hon.” You whisper, gently squeezing her fingers. Her gaze tracks its way back to yours.

That light again.

“I’m almost done, Emily.” Lily’s tone is soft with the compassion she spares for patients. “One minute and Y/N’s all yours, promise.”

“All yours,” you reiterate, desperately wanting to dissolve the frown between her brows. Sure, your eyes are watering, the inside of your cheek nearly shredded, but her pain cuts deeper. “Forever and ever, isn’t that nice, Em?”

A sharp arch of manicured brows. “Are you—?” Her mouth loses some of its stiffness, bending with incredulity. “Are you seriously trying to flirt with me right now?”

“Diabolical, isn’t it.” You deadpan.

Lily laughs.

“Careful.” Emily snaps. Her eyes immediately go wide, fingers loosening around yours. She opens her mouth, but Lily beats her to it.

“Sorry, Agent Prentiss. You, shut it please.” She says to you, trying to hide her amusement behind her professionalism. It’s always harder when you’re treating someone you know. 

This you know from personal experience.

“I’m trying to distract my girlfriend,” you murmur, rolling your eyes. “You just had to butt in—”

“I don’t need distracting—”

“—Em, honey, you were staring holes through my—”

“Done.”

Emily visibly wilts in relief. Her grip goes loose, her outline shaky as Lily puts the forceps down and snips the suture. She layers a bandage over the stitches and carefully tucks them away.

“You’re all good.” Lily announces, much too peppy for this time of night. She strips off her gloves and gives Emily a reassuring smile, then gives you a much more teasing one. “Mind the countertop edges next time.”

“And the water on the floor.” Emily murmurs. Her hands are lax around yours, restless fingers massaging over your knuckles. A lingering worry still hardens the corners of her eyes, so you swallow down a retort and nod dutifully.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu @ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi @temilyrights @professorsapphic @decadentcatcrusade @piiinco@jareavsheavn @mourningthewicked

[luveline]

this is very on the nose but have you done an emily prentiss fic when she “dies” and comes back and it’s just very messy with reader 😝 okay love you bye

—Emily comes home. You can’t keep it straight in your head, but she takes care of you. fem, 2k

cw depression, suicidal thoughts, disassociation

It begins with a text message. 

You can barely bring yourself to look at your phone. For months after she died, you’d open your phone and look for her contact, her quick text, Won’t be home tonight or What do you want for dinner? And then you’d remember she was dead and burst into ugly, wretched tears, your chest a sizable agony. 

You wish she’d come home. In the middle of the night, waking you up with one of those messy kisses that used to piss you off, and a softer one to say sorry. It would all be okay if she just came home, so when you get a text, you don’t want to look because it won’t be Emily, and she’s not on her way back from work. 

You open your phone reluctantly and click the unknown number. 

Hi, this is Jennifer Jareau. Do you have time to talk? 

You don’t want to talk to Jennifer, ever. The last time you’d seen her had been at Emily’s funeral. She was strange. Her coworkers Penelope and Derek had been far more comforting, rubbing your back when you cried, encouraging you forward to drop your rose on her coffin when you’d turned numb with the shock of it. She was really dead. She was never coming back. 

You don’t have any substantial grievance with Jennifer and you certainly wouldn’t try to define how she could grieve her friend, but something about her was off, and it’s not like you ever saw any of them again. Penelope asked you to coffee a couple of times, and Derek called, but nothing inside of you wanted to be in Emily's life without her. 

You don’t really want to be in life at all. 

What’s stopping me from following her? you’d think. Nothing mattered. You’d always felt like you loved Emily more than she loved you in return, not from any great sense of superiority or her lack of care, but Emily had more than you. She lived for her career, and you lived for her. 

It’s about Emily. 

You stare at your phone. Her text. It’s about Emily. What could she possibly have to say? Emily was killed in the line of duty by a bad man. She died before they could even try to fix her, stabbed in the chest, in agony all the way to the end. What could Jennifer have to tell you now to fix that, all your guilt, your desperation? 

Nothing. You ignore her text and turn off your phone to finish getting ready for work. 

Your head is clearer after your shift. You get Chinese food to take home with you on your walk and a bag of cat treats, sipping a cold drink, and you only think about Emily and her prawn cracker addiction for ten or so minutes. 

Your apartment is quiet when you return, as it always is. “Sergei?” you say softly, hoping to attract your timid cat with a gentle shake of the cat treats. “Baby, come have some dinner with me. I’m home.” 

Your cat mews from somewhere in the living room. 

“Come on, handsome,” you say, not bothering to hide the complete lack of energy in your voice. You feel better, but not good. You miss Emily, and it doesn’t go away. You lean against the kitchen counter and screw your eyes up tightly. You swear you can smell her, but you’ve read about it now. It’s grief. Thinking you can see her in public places, smelling her after her scent has gone from the bedsheets, it’s just the mind playing tricks on you. Worst of all is the dreams, where she holds you, where she lets herself in to kiss you again, just one more time. 

It hurts so badly you can’t wait it out. You sigh like you’re in pain and shift down onto your elbows. Unbidden throbbing cracks against your ribs. 

“Are you alright?” 

You gasp, wrenching your head around in shock. Immediately you back into the corner of the kitchen countertops, as far from the intruder as possible, scrabbling for your phone.

“It’s okay!” they say, forcing you to slam your eyes closed. Her voice is exactly like it always is, that first alright soft and measured, her okay! said with a laugh, though there’s something self-disparaging there. “I’m– sorry, it’s okay.”

It’s Emily. You know it’s her. Your grief has finally tipped into that awful, thieving ache, your head’s gone. You’re seeing her at home, because you can’t let her go. 

“It’s okay,” she says again, softer now. 

You shake your head without looking. 

“Can I come over there?” 

“No.” 

“No. Okay, I won’t. I’ll stay right here.” 

You shake your head. After a minute of quiet, heart unsteady where it aches in your chest, you squint through your lashes to find her still there, standing by your refrigerator. Sergei jumps on the counter and nuzzles at her arm.

“You okay?” she asks. 

“I don’t want to see you anymore.” 

“I’m real.” 

“No, you’re not.” You suck in a painful breath. 

It’s almost worse to think she’s real, because you buried her, because you’ve been hurting so much that you were gonna–

“You’re not real.” 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I couldn’t tell you. I was still a liability, I didn’t want to give them any reason to come back to you, I didn’t want you to get hurt.” 

She’s talking so strangely, like you’re a victim of something, like she’s practiced. 

You don’t feel good, then. You know you’re not gonna stand much longer, turning again to cling to the countertop, listening in apprehension as her feet pad over the floor. She’s not wearing her shoes. 

“You need to sit down, huh?” she asks quietly, lovingly, like she would’ve before. “Come and sit down with me. It’s gonna be okay, I promise.” 

“But you–”

“Please,” she says. “I don’t have any right to ask you to, but just trust me for a second and sit down with me.” 

Her hand closes around the top of your arm and your world fades to a blurred white. The next thing you know, you’re sitting at the kitchen table with your arm held between Emily’s two hands, Sergei rubbing his dark body against her shoulder, mewing desperately for attention. But Emily’s talking to you, a repeated, slow murmur, “It’s alright, it’s gonna be okay, just stay here. I’m right here with you.” 

“But you’re not,” you say hoarsely. 

“I’m sorry.” She rubs your arm. “God, you’re shaking so hard, I don’t know what to do.” 

“Why do you sound upset?” 

The anger is a lash. You can see her accept it, despite how sudden it was. “I didn’t want to hurt you like this.” 

“You didn’t want to hurt me, are you serious?” 

“Doyle escaped incarceration. I had to leave to know you’d be safe, so I could be safe. I couldn’t stay, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry. But we got him now. He can’t hurt you now.” 

“I know Doyle escaped, I’ve been here the whole time!”

“Okay,” she says, backing down as the tears in your eyes grow heavy, your vision blurring her sorry face. She rubs your arm gently, exactly like she used to, “I’m sorry.” 

You quieten, sniffling as tears escape your lashes and her face goes out of focus. “Are you real?” you ask under your breath. 

“Yeah.” 

“Because I’ve– I’ve seen you, I see you everywhere, I hear your voice. How do I know this is real?” 

“I don’t know,” she says, pulling at your arm, encouraging your hand to her chest. She holds your fingers to the skin above her beating heart. “Does that help?” She frowns in her way, delicate and too pretty. “Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.” 

That’s as sorry as she’s ever going to sound, you think. 

“Doyle’s gone?” 

She nods. 

“You’re safe?” 

“We’re both safe. I said I’d take care of you, and I did.” 

“I thought I’d have to die to see you again.” 

Emily pulls your hand to her mouth, kissing the back of it twice, three times, too many kisses to count before she buries her face in your skin. “I’m sorry,” she says, her tone pleading. “I knew what it would do to you, but I couldn’t find another way.” 

You run out of things to say. Emily keeps a tight hold on your hand as though she’s worried you’re gonna run away, but you stay. 

—

You’re not supposed to forgive her. You know there’s a part of you that needs defending —the months that she’s been gone have changed you as a person. She can see that easily, as could anyone who’s ever known you. 

But having her back does ease the pain you’d been in. You aren’t sure what you’re allowed to do, what’s fair to you, but you know you won’t sleep if she doesn’t come to bed with you, so you ask, and her warm eyes turn fully dark. When she’s cleaned off her makeup with a straggling pack of her wipes in the bathroom and changed out of her formal clothes, she’s every bit of the girlfriend you remember having. She pins her hair up with a clip and sits on the side of the bed, timid where she never was, her eyes following the line of you where you’re curled on your side. “I know I don’t deserve to say it, but I missed you,” she says.

“I missed you more.” 

She leans down. Mischief in her eyes, a softness to her mouth, she tilts her head to one side like she might kiss you, but she doesn’t. “I’m going to make it up to, I promise. I’ll try forever, if you want.”

“I don’t really believe you’re not something my head made up.” You drop your tone to an utterance. “I’ve finally gone crazy.” 

“You’re not crazy.” 

“There’s just no way–”

Emily shakes her head, cupping your cheek firmly. “We can call again. Okay? Derek doesn’t mind. He’ll tell you that I’m real until you believe it.” 

She has reason to worry. You’d felt disconnected from reality for hours, and while her being alive is still unbelievable, you feel settled for the first time since she left. “Can you hug me?” you ask, offering her a meagre, well-meaning smile. 

She tips your face up. “Can I kiss you first?” she asks tentatively. “I get it if you don’t want me to, but I– think I missed kissing you almost as much as I missed looking at you.” 

You settle back against your pillow and nod. “You can kiss me,” you say, glad when she takes the hint, holding herself over your body, and letting her stomach weigh against yours completely. You caress her cheek as she presses her lips against yours. 

When you cry, she brushes your tears away, won’t kiss you again until you’re sniffling and begging her for another one. Just one more, you say. You just need one more. 

[rana030]

[reidishh]

BUY ME PRESENTS!

These works are NSFW - any persons that are considered minors (under the age of 18) found to be reading/interacting with these works will be promptly blocked from this blog.

Now presenting a REIDISHH Kinkmas special: BUY ME PRESENTS! For fifteen days in the month of December, starting December 1st and ending December 31st, I'll be posting kinky fics and drabbles starring our favorite slutty little crime fighters.

Note: ON TEMP. HIATUS

"Fuck the jet, send the sleigh! It's a packed holiday and I've got options, babe!" - Sabrina Carpenter, Buy Me Presents

001 :: LOSS OF VIRGINITY with AARON HOTCHNER

002 :: COCKWARMING with RAFAEL BARBA

003 :: MUTUAL MASTURBATION with SONNY CARISI

004 :: KNIFE PLAY with EMILY PRENTISS

005 :: SEX TAPE with SPENCER REID

006 :: SOMNOPHILIA with AARON HOTCHNER

007 :: CNC with SPENCER REID

008 :: EDGING with EMILY PRENTISS

009 :: ORGASM DENIAL with SPENCER REID

010 :: THREESOME with SPENCER REID + SONNY CARISI

011 :: ROLEPLAY with RAFAEL BARBA

012 :: BREEDING with SONNY CARISI

013 :: BONDAGE with RAFAEL BARBA

014 :: VOYEURISM with AARON HOTCHNER

015 :: EXHIBITIONISM with SONNY CARISI

© reidishh 2024, all rights reserved.

[foxy-eva]

Full of Wonders

Summary: Dressing up as Catwoman for Halloween gives you the confidence to switch things up in the bedroom

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader 

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) nicknames, power dynamics, heavy kissing, nipple play, oral, use of strap-on (Emily receiving)

Word count: 2.6k

Author’s note: I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins Autumn Air Writing Challenge!

Masterlist

“Damn Emily, I think you’re in trouble,” Luke teased when he saw you walking through the door to join the Halloween party Penelope was hosting. 

Emily’s eyes found you in the crowd and she couldn’t believe what she saw. You had dared to dress up as Catwoman – certainly a reference to Emily confessing how sexy she thought the actress was when you watched the movie a few weeks ago. 

Your outfit was flawless – a skin-tight black bodysuit, a full face of make-up with perfectly done eyeliner and a hairband with cat ears. It took Emily a second to realize you even brought a black leather whip as an accessory. 

“Wonder Woman,” you giggled once you saw Emily in her costume. “Nice seeing you here.” 

“I wonder who’s gonna win that fight tonight,” Tara quipped while scanning the both of you. 

Spencer chimed into the conversation, “Considering that Wonder Woman has superhuman powers, including extraordinary strength and speed and the ability to fly, I don’t think that Catwoman would stand a chance. Did you know that–”

Luke placed his hand on Spencer’s shoulder to interrupt him from starting infodumping. “Reid, trust me when I say that’s not what she meant.”

You watched as an oblivious Spencer walked away with Luke to get some snacks before you turned to your girlfriend. 

“You look great,” Emily cooed before placing a brief kiss on your lips. “I knew that dressing up as superheroes was a good idea.”

“Are you surprised I chose Catwoman?” You teased as you swung your arm around her waist. 

“A little, yeah. It’s not like you to wear something so daring,” Emily confessed. 

“You’re right but seeing your face was worth it. Hulk would have been my second choice, by the way,” You joked. 

Emily took your hand to walk a few steps away from the crowd. When she was sure that nobody else was close enough to hear her, she leaned closer to your ear and whispered, “So, will you be a good kitten for me tonight?”

A smirk spread over your face. “You wish.”

“Huh,” Emily breathed. “I feel like this will be a very interesting night.” 

After leaving a featherlight kiss on Emily’s lips, you joined the rest of your friends to enjoy the party. Your girlfriend seemed especially affectionate tonight, holding you by your waist and kissing you whenever the others were busy talking to each other. 

It was unlike Emily to show so much physical affection in public. There was something in the way she looked at you, her eyes dark and filled with desire. It became obvious that your girlfriend wanted you and had a hard time keeping her composure. 

You wondered if it had something to do with seeing you in such a daring outfit. After Emily placed her lips on yours for the umpteenth time that night, you decided that you couldn’t wait any longer to find out. 

Even though the night was still young, you whispered into her ear, “I think it’s time to go home.”

The grin that spread over her face could only be described as mischievous. She nodded and grabbed your hand, wasting no time to lead you away from the party and towards her car. Before you could get inside, she shoved you against the side of the car to capture your lips with hers. 

This kiss was different from the ones before. There was no more holding back, no more need to act all demure in front of your friends. She didn’t waste any time to deepen the kiss, her tongue finding yours in an instant. Emily kissed you with a fervor that knocked the air out of your lungs. 

You felt like you could get drunk just from tasting her lips. The urgency in her actions made your heart jump. She held you against the car, hindering you from moving away as she got lost in this kiss. When she let out a muffled moan there was no more denying how much Emily needed you. 

She pressed her hips against yours and you could feel the heat radiating from her body. A similar warmth had already begun spreading over your own skin, too. In that moment you wished that you weren’t in public. Your fingers twitched against her waist, becoming curious what a mess they would find if they dared dipping beneath her skirt. 

“Let’s go home,” you mumbled against her lips. “I want to be alone with you.” 

There was no more time to be wasted to get to your destination. You felt like your entire body was on fire as you waited patiently on the passenger seat to finally be alone with your girlfriend. The tension between the two of you only grew the longer the drive took. 

Once you finally stepped inside her apartment, it was as if something inside you snapped. Usually it was Emily taking the lead in your encounters but you decided you wanted to switch things up this time. When she kissed you, it was as if you two began fighting a battle of who had the upper hand. 

Emily smirked against your lips when she realized what you were doing. She moved with you as you attempted to push her against a wall, breathing out a quiet laugh when you began kissing her neck. 

“You’re cute when you think you’re in charge,” she chuckled. 

Instead of responding, you bit down on her pulse point and Emily hissed a curse. 

“Careful,” she warned you, a playful tone laced over her voice. 

You found her eyes once more and almost got lost in their darkness. “You’re the needy one tonight,” you teased her as you pressed your thigh between her legs. “There’s no denying that.” 

“I can’t help it when you look so sinful,” she groaned.

Your tone was soft and loving when you breathed, “Let me take care of you, Emily.”

And just like that she gave in. With a nod she signaled her approval to follow your lead. A rosy shade had spread over her cheeks, making it obvious how turned on she already was. Seeing Emily like that almost drove you insane. 

She always looked incredibly beautiful when you were with her. But the way she almost seemed desperate tonight was something entirely new to you. She would have never admitted it but you were certain that she wanted you to take the lead all along. And you were eager to give her what she desired. 

You led her into the bedroom and slowly began ridding her of her costume. Each piece of clothing fell to the floor, revealing her skin to you. When she stood completely bare in front of you, you took a moment to take in her beauty. 

Your eyes lingered on the curve of her breasts, noticing how her nipples had already hardened. Reaching out your hand, you gently brushed your fingertips over her chest, paying close attention to the way her skin broke out in goosebumps. 

Emily reached out her hand to take off your hair band, letting the cat ears fall to the floor. You had long abandoned your whip and heels at the door but your tight bodysuit was still in place. Her hands began brushing over the smooth fabric until they found a zipper to pull down. You moved with her until you were only left in your black lace underwear. 

“God, you’re so sexy,” Emily groaned before she found your lips in a hasty kiss. 

With a firm push against her shoulders, you had her lying on the bed in an instant. A playful smirk was written over her face when you crawled on top of her. “Good kitten,” she cooed right before kissing you again. 

You remembered that you were the one in charge tonight. So you quickly grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head, a gasp falling from her lips. She could have easily overpowered you but had no desire to do that. Emily seemed curious about what exactly you had in mind for her. 

Your lips brushed over her cheeks before leaving kisses along her neck, gently biting down on her sensitive skin. Moving further down, you took one nipple into your mouth while your hand found the other one, taking it between your fingers and playing with it until moans began falling from her lips.

Emily began rocking her hips against yours, desperate to find some friction. Descending further down, you kissed along her stomach, her sides, her hips before settling between her legs. You had seen her many times before but each time she opened her thighs for you, you were mesmerized by her beauty. 

It was as if you watched the prettiest flower go in full bloom, each pedal layered perfectly over the other. She was glistening, as if morning dew had kissed her folds, leaving her honeyed wetness for you to enjoy. You took your time as you tasted her folds, relishing her heady scent and imprinting her uniqueness onto your tongue. 

What you were doing was more teasing than actually pleasuring her and you were both aware of that. It only aroused her more. When she began squirming underneath you, you stopped what you were doing and sat up between her legs. Emily whined in protest, a confused look on her face when she found your eyes. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” you purred as you leaned over her. 

She only sighed in response and it became obvious that she was starting to get impatient with you. You had no intention of teasing her any further, there was just something specific you had in mind. Something you had only done with reversed roles before. 

When you found her ear, you whispered, “I want to fuck you.” 

Emily’s eyes widened at your words. She understood what you meant but needed a second to process. Then, without a second thought, she groaned, “Do it.” 

Her words took you by surprise. A part of you thought that she would decline your offer and instead flip you over to take back control. You had not expected for her to submit to you to the fullest. 

Emily watched as you sat up to reach for the nightstand, opening the drawer to take out the strap. Your fingers shook with excitement as you slipped into the harness, adjusting the straps until it sat securely over your underwear. It was then that you noticed how wet you were, the soaked lace of your panties sticking onto your skin. 

Your girlfriend reached for the bottle of lube and squeezed a fair amount of it into her palm. She grabbed your strap to coat it with the liquid. The sight of her hand caressing this new extension of your body was captivating. For a second you thought about asking her to take it into her mouth but decided against it. That would have been a sight your poor heart probably couldn’t handle. Your heart was already beating uncomfortably fast inside your chest. 

It was as if Emily sensed your nervousness when she looked at you with a reassuring expression. 

“You look amazing,” she praised you. “I can’t wait to feel your cock inside me.” 

“Then lay back and relax,” you whispered as you positioned yourself between her legs. 

Before she did as you told her, she reached for the clasp of your bra to undo it. “Better,” she snickered as she tossed the piece of clothing aside and leaned back against the pillows. “Now I can enjoy the show.” 

Holding the strap at the base, you slowly let it glide through her slick folds. When you brushed over her bundle of nerves, she bucked her hips against you. You repeated the motion a few more times before positioning the tip at her entrance. Before you began pushing into her, you looked at her one more time for reassurance. 

When she nodded at you, you leaned over her and began pressing your hips against hers, carefully sliding into her body. You watched as the strap disappeared inside her one inch at a time, slowly stretching her open. Moans escaped Emily’s throat at the intrusion and she hooked her legs around your hip to bring you even closer. 

Your lips found hers in a desperate kiss once you were fully inside her. With your bodies connected like that and your tongues meeting one another, it became impossible to tell where your body ended and hers began. Then, you started tentatively rocking your hips to thrust into her but you found some resistance from her body. 

“Everything okay?” You wanted to make sure. 

“Yes,” she confirmed. “Feels good. Just take it slow.” 

You paid close attention to her reaction as you moved, so much so that it took you several moments to realize how sensitive your own cunt felt with all the pressure of the strap against it. As you rocked your hips against her, the friction you created almost became addictive.

You hadn’t expected to find it so physically pleasurable to fuck your girlfriend like that. She had been in that position many times before and you had never noticed it having such an intense effect on her. 

But you could not deny the fact that the longer you thrusted into her, the close you got to your own breaking point. Emily noticed that, too. When you moaned against her lips, you felt her smiling into the kiss. 

She reached out her hands to find your breasts, gently kneading them before focussing on your nipples. The added stimulation only brought you further to your downfall. This wasn’t exactly what you had in mind. You really tried to focus on her pleasure, really wanted her to fall apart this way but you hadn’t expected how good it would make you feel. 

Your motions became erratic when your body started quivering. “Fuck, Emily… I–,” you whimpered as you felt your orgasm approaching. 

“Do it,” she sighed as she pinched your nipples. “Come for me, kitten.” 

That was what pushed you over the edge. You ground your hips against hers, your strap buried deep inside her as you came undone. When you collapsed inside her arms, you realized that no matter how hard you tried, Emily would always be the one in charge. And you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. 

As you caught your breath, your girlfriend kissed your cheek. “My poor baby,” she purred. “So sensitive you can’t even fuck me without getting yourself off, hm?” 

“I can’t help it,” you admitted. “You make me feel so good.” 

Emily pushed on your shoulders until you were hovering over her again. Then, before you even realized what she was doing, she turned the two of you over with one swift motion. It took you a moment to realize you were the one lying on your back now. 

“You make me feel good, too,” she moaned as she ground her hips against you. 

The sight of her straddling your strap made you dizzy. Your hands flew to her hips, moving with her as she rocked back and forth on top of you. The sounds of her pleasure filled the room as she brought herself to closer to euphoria. One of your hands moved to where your bodies were joined to let your thumb draw circles around her most sensitive spot. 

The sudden stimulation made her motions falter and it took her a moment to get back her rhythm. Your name fell from her lips when she finally entered the sensation of pure bliss, her walls clenching around the strap as she rode out her high on top of you. When she collapsed into your embrace, you were ready to catch her and hold her tightly against your body. 

“That was fun,” she chuckled before kissing your cheek. “But I won.”

And she was right. 

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[eternlmoonshine]

morning light ☀︎︎ emily prentiss

summary: waking up next to emily is the safest, warmest feeling in the world. in the early morning light, with the world still quiet and slow, you allow yourself to simply exist in the moment, wrapped up in her presence. pairing: emily prentiss x reader warnings: pure teeth rotting fluff wc: 0.9k masterlist.

The world is soft when you wake up.

Not the world outside- not the city beyond Emily’s apartment walls, where car horns will soon blare, where people will rush to get to work, where the sun will rise higher and cast long shadows over everything it touches. That world is always moving, always demanding something. But here, in this room, in this bed, in the quiet cocoon of early morning, the world is soft.

And Emily is the softest thing in it.

Her breath is slow, steady, warming the air between you as she sleeps. Your bodies are tangled together, as they always are when you fall asleep next to her, like even in unconsciousness, neither of you wants to let go. One of her arms is draped over your waist, her fingers curled loosely around the fabric of your shirt. Her other hand is tucked under the pillow where your head rests, and you wonder if she can feel the way your hair brushes against her fingertips.

You don’t move, don’t shift, don’t even breathe too deeply. You don’t want to disturb this moment, don’t want to wake her. You want to stay here, suspended in this perfect stillness, where the warmth of her body keeps you anchored, where her presence is the only thing you need.

The room is dim, the first hints of dawn creeping in through the curtains. The light barely touches her face, just enough for you to see the way her dark lashes rest against her cheeks, the way her lips are slightly parted as she breathes. She looks peaceful like this, younger somehow, like all the burdens she carries have been set aside for the night. You know they’ll return when she wakes up- that the weight of the world will settle back onto her shoulders, that she’ll push herself too hard, that she’ll go out and fight battles no one else is strong enough to fight.

But not yet.

Right now, she’s just Emily. Just the woman you love, sleeping soundly beside you, safe and warm.

You let yourself drink her in. The curve of her jaw, the faint crease between her brows that never quite smooths out, even in sleep. The way her hair spills over the pillow, dark against the pale sheets. You could stay like this forever, just watching her, memorizing every detail.

You let your fingers brush over her arm where it rests against your waist, feather-light, barely a touch at all. Her skin is warm beneath your fingertips, impossibly soft. You trace gentle patterns against her forearm, circles and lines that don’t mean anything but still feel like love.

She stirs slightly, shifting closer, her grip on your shirt tightening for a moment before relaxing again. Her face nuzzles into the pillow, and a quiet sound escapes her lips- something between a sigh and a hum, content and sleepy.

A smile tugs at your lips. She’s always been a light sleeper, always on alert, but when she’s here with you, when she feels safe, she lets herself rest a little deeper.

You press the softest possible kiss to her forehead, barely more than a whisper of touch, just enough to let her know you’re here. She doesn’t wake, but her body responds- her arm tightening slightly around you, her legs shifting so they tangle even more with yours.

You think about all the mornings before this one. The ones where you had to wake up too soon, where alarms dragged you both from sleep and forced you back into the chaos of the world. The ones where Emily had to leave before the sun even rose, where kisses were hurried, where goodbyes were laced with exhaustion.

But not today.

Today, there are no alarms. No cases to rush off to, no flights to catch, no reason to leave this bed until you decide to. Today, you have time.

And you’re going to savor every second of it.

Your fingers move up to her hair, brushing a few strands away from her face. She shifts again, and this time, her eyes flutter open, just barely. They’re hazy with sleep, unfocused, the soft brown of them even warmer in the dim light.

A slow, sleepy smile spreads across her lips.

“Morning,” she murmurs, voice rough with sleep, the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

“Morning,” you whisper back.

She blinks lazily, like it takes effort to keep her eyes open, but she keeps looking at you, like she doesn’t want to look away. Like maybe she wants to memorize you the way you’ve been memorizing her.

“How long have you been awake?” she asks, her voice still thick with sleep.

You shrug. “Not long.”

She hums, unconvinced. “Liar.”

A quiet laugh escapes you, and Emily smiles like she’s won something. Maybe she has.

She shifts closer- like she wasn’t already pressed against you, like there was any space left to close- and buries her face in the crook of your neck. Her breath is warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Too early,” she mutters, her words muffled against your shoulder.

You chuckle, wrapping your arms around her, pulling her in even closer. “We don’t have to get up yet.”

“Good,” she says, already sinking back into sleep, already trusting you to hold her.

And you do. You hold her like she’s the most precious thing in the world- because she is. You hold her like you’ll never let go.

The world outside will wake up soon. The city will start moving, alarms will go off in other apartments, people will start their day. But for now, here in this quiet, warm space, there is only the steady rhythm of Emily’s breathing, the weight of her body against yours, the slow, steady beat of her heart.

And you don’t need anything else.

[thir10th]

hi love! i'd like to req emily smut, maybe a little more on the rough side if you'd be comfortable with that, where she gets jealous over reader and shows that through sex

if you want something less vague, it could be when reader brings emily lunch to her office and morgan keeps flirting with her, leading to some action in emily's office

I'll be doing these two together cause why not. I hope you don't mind! thanks for requesting, and I hope you liked it!!

jealousy - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

summary: see the asks, it's a mix of both, it kind of took a turn, but i hope you still enjoy it! tw: jealousy, a very poor try at dom Emily, fingering, breast play?, idk tws are so hard once you've finished writing🥲, i think that's it lmk if i'm missing smth a/n: no idea if there's a way for me to link both asks here, someone lmk if there is

It's only 8.00 am when you enter the police station, two bodies in the past 12 hours required the early hours, everyone had to be focused, your mind had to be only in one place. However, this wasn't the case for all the people on that room.

The local police officer at the head of the case had some other things in his mind.

He starts by boldly checking you out, looks at you up and down, stopping and staring at the short tank top you were wearing, which makes you uncomfortable enough to cover yourself with your arms as much as you can.

The look your girlfriend sends to him doesn't go unnoticed to you, you start to believe she will set him on fire just with her stare, she places herself covering your body to shake his hand, which she gripes a bit too harder than the usual.

If you didn't know her any better, you would say she is jealous.

But there was just no way, right? Emily Prentiss doesn't get jealous, she's too confident for that, she has you so well wrapped around her finger, she doesn't need to be jealous. Right?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"so you think this... unsub like you call him, could be on a killing spree because of his mother?" the agent asks you, staring at the last picture you just sticked to the board with a puzzled look.

"we're positive, we've seen this modus before, it's a clear pattern" you explain

"ugh, so talking about mommy issues" you can't help the little snicker that scapes your lips.

He looks triumphant, fully believes he's got you under his spell. He couldn't be more wrong.

The familiar hand that slides behind you on your lower back makes you jump, Emily comes around you, standing closer than she usually does.

"hey, what were you talking about?" she asks, tilting her head.

"oh, nothing just the case" you say, unbothered.

"just the case huh?" you turn your head to see how she's staring at him, as he walks away from you both.

"Em? what is it?" you ask suspicoisly.

"nothing, i just don't understand, what could be so funny if you were just talking about the case..." she says sarcastically

"oh my god" you try to keep your voice down, but the excitement is still noticeable "oh my god, Emily, you're jealous!"

"what? What do you mean I'm jealous?" her voice a couple octaves higher, making it so obvious to you she's lying.

"that's not even a real answer!" you say.

"ugh..." she lets out one of those little sounds she always makes when she knows she's been caught, you think it's adorable.

"ok, so maybe... maybe I just... don't like the way he looks at my girlfriend, so sue me!" she tries defending herself, but you couldn't take it seriously for your life, you find it adorable, the slight pink tinting her cheeks, her reassuring hand still resting on your lower back.

"Emily, c'mon, you know i love you" you kiss her cheek, she kisses you back but still doesn't look so convinced.

The thing is, you could not be any less attracted to that man, there was no way in the world you would find his flirting any appealing, but the idea of teasing Emily sounds too exciting.

A little fun never hurt anyone, right?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"...hellooo, earth to Prentiss?"

Morgan waves a hand in front of Emily’s face and she’s brought back to reality.

"what?" she asks.

"i said, could you please put your frown away, you're scaring Reid" Spencer doesn't even hear the comment, too focused on the case file to even pay attention to the conversation that was taking place right beside him.

"my frown is just where it has to be, thank you" she says raising an eyebrow at that.

Derek gives a scoff, and Rossi chuckles at the whole stupidity of the situation. “If y/n can’t feel your stare burning a hole in her back, when she turns and sees you, she’s sure gonna think you're planning a murder.”

"i might just be" she mutters

"I think I know what's going on" Rossi intervenes "she isn't looking at y/n" he explains pointing at you "I think someone might be jealous"

You are only a few feet away, discussing your last findings with the detective, trying to laugh at every little thing he says, making sure Emily is watching.

"I'm not jealous" she defends "she is so clearly not interested, but what if she needs me to step in?" her attempt to make up a good excuse isn't good enough for any of them to buy it

"if that helps you, but all i can hear is jealousy" a big, cocky smile spread on Morgan's face, it's only making her angrier

"c'mon, or we will too have to face the consequences of the territorial monster of jealousy when it explodes" Rossi says, dragging Morgan away

"yeah, mark your territory" Morgan laughs, while Emily gives him the finger "go get her lover!"

It's your loud chuckle that draws the line for her. When you finally get away from the persistent officer, you turn to see Emily isn't there anymore, taking your phone you see 2 new message from her.

From Em💕: you better knock your shit off baby.

From Em💕: That's it. You're so in for it later.

That one makes your heart throb, it shortly makes you wonder if you had taken it too far. This was not gonna end well for you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hotch decides to call it for the day, sending you off to start fresh in the morning, when a male voice you had heard enough already, calls your name

"Agent, I was wondering if you would be in for a drink with me?" he asks, eyeing you up and down yet again.

You are so sure you would find it just as disgusting if you weren't so gay, and so in love with your girlfriend.

"oh, sorry but no, actually, I-" a much more familiar female voice interrupts you "she's with me" Emily says.

He can't believe his eyes, Emily wraps her arm around your waist pulling you close to her body "hi babe" she says, kissing your lips, you return the kiss, a bit amused at her jealousy, but loving the possessiveness she was showing.

"Sorry, you were saying?" she asks, the man still open-mouthed, he can't bring himself to even speak.

"nothing... ugh, good night, agents" he dismisses you, and walks away defeated.

Emily and you head out of the bullpen, her arm still securely wrapped around your waist, she slides her hand on your back pocket, grabbing a handful of your ass possessively, making you chuckle.

"wanna talk about it?" you ask her innocently

"oh we are gonna be doing a bit more than talking you and me"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Emily doesn't even leave time for the door to close, and you have a split second to register your thoughts before she closes the door and walks over in one long stride and slams you into the wall.

Her mouth attacks yours in a hungry, desperate kiss, her tongue invading in a fight for dominance, that you just let her win, she is determined to have her way with you, and you aren't going to stop her.

She wasted no time in getting her hands on you, roughly rubbing her hands over your exposed skin. You, however, delicately placed your arms around her neck and when you both pulled apart to breathe.

"what's wrong, Em?" you ask her, breathlessly

"you know what? For starters, I didn't like the way he was looking at you" she starts, her breath warm against your skin, she lowers her head getting your neck, kissing it so sweetly you feel you could melt

she is quick to find your pulse point, mouth-opened kisses all over your skin, she nips all over your spot, which makes you moan

"but then imagine my surprise when i saw you, flirting back" her hand finds her way underneath your shirt, reaching for your breast, she finds no more resistance as you aren't wearing a bra, your other nipple peaking through your shirt in excitement.

She uses her free hand to grip your ass, you jump at the feeling whimpering on her mouth, her closeness only making you more excited.

"but you don't like him, do you, baby?" she asks, teasing you, she leaves a soft kiss on your lips

"he wouldn't stand a chance, we both know men aren't really your type" Emily says lowly, nipping at the tender spot behind your ear. 

She slips her leg between yours, a soft moan escapes your lips.

"so you just wanted to make me jealous" you're too deep in her dominance to even register anything, letting out soft whimpers every time her thumb brushes against the nub and grips the soft skin of your breast

"god... Emily" you let out, as Emily pulls your thighs apart with her hand.

"you know, baby, if you wanted me to fuck you, you could've just asked" she attacks your neck again, sucking hard enough to leave purple marks you couldn't care any less about now.

Emily presses her fingertips against the crotch of your jeans "your clothes. Take them off or I'll rip them off" she commands, taking a step back from you, leaving too little space to maneuver.

You knew better than to tease her when she was like this. A shiver of excitement runs through your back, and you comply.

You take your jeans off then, your shirt, quickly throwing them somewhere far on the room.

You move to kiss her again, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in for a kiss, but she doesn't let you, instead she grabs you by your thighs, lifting you up.

You wrap your legs around her waist, she carries you to bed, laying you down just harshly enough to make you even more excited for whats to come.

"you are gonna do exactly what i ask you to tonigh, you know why, baby?" you hold your breath, you're not sure if she actually wants you to answer, but you try nonetheless "because I'm yours"

Your answer seems to satisfy her, as she begins kissing her way down your body, taking special care to nip at your collarbone and stomach to leave more marks than the one's on your neck.

The soft cloth of her shirt rubs against your skin and as if just now realising she was still dressed, you grab the hem of her shirt and help her take it off, throwing it somewhere in the vicinity of the room, like you had done with your own clothes.

And not a moment later, she is back to kissing your body, stopping suddenly when she reached the hemline of your underwear.

Her hand navigates down them, she dips low enough to collect your arousal on her fingertips before rubbing your clit forcefully. Your body reacts immediately, curling forward. "Em!" you moan

"what's wrong baby? Cat got your tongue? use your words, if you want me to stop the teasing, just say it"

"fuck...Em, please, I'm yours, please Emily, yours" you confirm, closing your eyes and letting your hips rock against her hand.

“Who are you this wet for?” Emily demands, nipping at your earlobe.

"just you" you whimper, desperation starting to build in your lower stomach

"that's right baby" the cocky smile on her lips makes your eyes roll. You obviously loved slow, romantic love making with your grilfriend, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't love this side of her just as much.

She continued to move her fingers inside of you and you met each thrust but you almost fell apart when she pressed her thumb against your clit and rubbed hard.

She uses her free hand to play with your breast, you let out a gasp when her tongue moves over it spurred you on and she begins to gently suck on it while her hand still caressed your other breast. 

You melt into the mattress at her words. "let go, c'mon baby, I got you" you cum on the spot, as she fucks you through your orgasm, she let's you ride your high.

Emily lays down beside you as you come down from the climax, she kisses your lips softly, lovingly this time, less urgent.

"you know i didn't mean any of it right? I was just playing with you, i love you. He didn't stand a chance" you try to clarify

"yes baby, i know, i love you too, i wasn't so harsh with you right?" she asks concerned. Sometimes you can't believe how Emily's mood changes so fast, from all dominating, incredibly sexy, to concerned, soft girlfriend.

"Em, it was perfect" you say, grabbing her face and pecking her lips "you are perfect" you kiss her again.

"well, good, because we're just getting started, i'm not sure you've learned your lesson yet" she grins.

"Like i said, I'm all yours, agent Prentiss" she sits to straddle you, and you grab her face to pull her in for another kiss.

Emily caresses your neck with her thumb, looking at the purple marks she had previously left "this will be hard to cover tomorrow"

"who says I'm covering them?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Sitting on your usual spot on the plane, you lay behind Emily's amr, resting your head on her shoulder as she reads.

You aren't oblivious of the look on Morgan's face, right in front of you.

The shirt you chose had your neck and cleavage all on display, small and big purple marks cover your skin.

He stares bluntly at you, a cheeky smile covering his face "So y/n, looks like you and Prentiss had yourselves a good night. Care to share?"

Emily gives him the finger.

"in your dreams" you say.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

wow! a lot longer than i expected it to be! finishing this one gave me a headache so please like and reblog if you liked it, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated! <333 reqs still open as always!

[finelinevogue]

somebody else

summary - when you’re forced to kiss emily, you’re worried that you’re both kissing for different reasons

pairing - emily prentiss x bau-friend!reader

word count - ~1.5k

It was Friday night and the bar was busy.

‘Woody’s’ was a new bar downtown that was everyone’s new favourite place to go. It was a great place to have a casual drink but it also played great music for people who wanted to dance. There were darts and snooker too.

It was your team’s favourite place to go for post-case drinks, which is why you were currently there.

Hotch and Rossi were currently buying a round for you all. The rest of you were stood at a table, seeing as there were no booths free.

“How many women are going to give you there number tonight then, Derek?” Emily asked, raising her brows in tease.

“More than you’ll get.” He winked back.

“Ah, I’m only counting on one anyways.”

Whilst the rest of the team smiled and laughed over the comical dispute between Derek and Emily, you couldn’t help but feel sad about it.

You didn’t care what Derek got up to tonight, but Emily…

Well let’s just say, it’s hard to encourage someone to get themselves out there and show off when you’re the one you wish they were pursuing. In laymen’s terms; you liked Emily and wished she could like you back.

Feelings were a scary thing to have in your line of work. Even more so when the feelings were for someone on your team.

She looked so pretty tonight.

The white t-shirt fit her perfectly and her hair was in perfect curls framing her face. You couldn’t get over how perfect she was.

Hotch and Rossi came back over with a tray each. There were beers for everyone and a tiny shot of something too - probably a baby Guinness.

“You’re spoiling us, boss.” Derek cheered.

“Well, we’re off the clock and have had a successful week.” Hotch explained.

“Cheers to that.” Emily laughed.

Emily grabbed a beer and a shot off the tray but gave it to you. Only after you’d gotten yours did she grab her own.

“Thank you.” You said and Emily smiled at you. It was one of those smiles you could feel in your own heart that she genuinely meant.

“I know it’s been a hard year but weeks like this remind us why we do what we do.” Hotch raised his shot, making the rest of you copy. “So, to us.”

“To us.” Everyone copied before downing the shot.

It was in fact a baby Guinness, so it was nice enough to not feel ill afterwards.

“Reid, are you even old enough to drink?” Rossi teased.

“Actually yes, the legal age for drinking in the United States is 21.” Reid answered, which made everyone laugh because he had obviously taken Rossi’s question ad literal. It even made Hotch laugh.

“L/N, how are you spending your weekend?” Derek asked.

“Recovering from a hangover, no doubt.” You raised your beer glass.

“Lightweight.” Garcia teased.

“Hey, don’t be mean.” Emily protested, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you into her side. You kept up the charade by pretending to pout as you comfortably fit your head onto Emily’s shoulders for a moment.

“Aw, aren’t you two the cutest.” Garcia smiled, winking at Emily.

Clearly you had missed something.

Emily squeezed your shoulders before letting you go.

“Speaking of cute,” Rossi interrupted, “How did that date go the other night?” He questioned Emily.

You took the opportunity to reach for your drink so you wouldn’t have to watch the excitement take over Emily’s face. You had heard that she’d gone on a date earlier, last week, but you’d never found the courage to chase her up on it.

When you took a sip of your beer, your eyes met Hotch’s from across the table.

He was staring like he was trying to figure something out about your behaviour - or maybe he already had.

“She was nice.”

“Nice?” Reid questioned as if that was it.

“Yeah, Reid’s nice…” Derek pointed out.

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” Reid asked the table.

“Don’t ever change, Dr Reid.” Garcia laughed, giving him a little side hug.

“So she wasn’t… what?” Rossi asked.

“What is this? 20 questions about my love life?” Emily laughed, clearly trying to deflect from answering the question. “Why aren’t we questioning Hotch?”

You were sort of thankful that she didn’t answer, so you didn’t have to mentally list the ways that you weren’t her type either.

“Oh don’t worry. We’re getting there.” Rossi said.

“Right.” Hotch tutted.

Like your boss would reveal anything about his personal life…

“So….” Derek tried again with Emily.

“So what?” Emily asked.

“What was she like?”

You dared to look at Emily.

Even though it was horrible listening to her gush about other people, you didn’t want to seem like a bad friend.

Because a friend was all you’d ever be.

“She was…” Emily’s eyes caught yours and she stuttered for a moment. She cleared her throat and looked back at everyone else, “She made me really realise who I do want.”

“Which wasn’t her?”

“God no.” Emily laughed at the thought.

It was kind of sick how happy you felt hearing her say that.

“So who are you looking for?” Reid asked.

“Classified.” Emily said.

“But there is someone.” Rossi said what wasn’t being spoken.

Emily didn’t verbally answer. She simply looked down and smiled to herself, which was answer enough.

It worked you up a bit.

You tried so hard keep your emotions in check, but the reality of the situation was that it was hard pretending like you didn’t care about Emily’s dating life when actually it was all you thought about.

You thought about how lovely it would be to date her. To treat her. To hold her hand and kiss her in the quiet of night. How lovely it would be to hug her without an excuse or hold her hand just because.

There were all these things that you wished you could do.

But she was wishing them away with somebody else.

“Emily!”

The team lifted their heads to see where the voice had come from. A tall, blonde, girl was making her way over to your table from across the room.

She was having a hard time clearing the floor as there were so many people packed in here.

“Oh shit.” Emily swore under her breath.

“What?” You asked, worried.

“That’s Olivia.” She said.

Olivia.

Her ex-girlfriend who was a borderline stalker.

Everyone knew about her and how she had some serious issues relating to personal space. An ex shouldn’t be as clingy as Olivia was. Emily had confided in you time and time again about Olivia, so the anger bubbling in your veins was very real.

“What can we do?” Hotch asked.

“There’s only one thing to do.” Emily replied, but she wasn’t looking at Hotch. She was looking at you. “Forgive me.” She whispered.

Then her hands pulled on your jaw to bring your face closer to hers and she didn’t stop until that distance was closed with her lips crashing into yours.

You were surprised at first - not really comprehending what was happening - but then you started to lean into it.

Emily’s hands stayed firm on your jaw, guiding the kiss the way she wanted to.

Her lips were so pillowy soft and they tasted of the watermelon chapstick she constantly reapplied.

You heard what sounded like Derek whistling and Garcia cheering like this was the happiest moment of her life.

It was a happy moment.

You were kissing Emily. Emily.

That’s when it hit you, though.

Emily wasn’t kissing you for the same reasons that you were kissing her.

She was kissing you to make her ex jealous and believe that Olivia meant nothing now, but you were kissing her and it was everything.

So you pulled away.

Emily’s eyes looked shocked, like she couldn’t believe that had just happened. Her lipstick was a little smudged and her cheeks flushed red.

You gaped at her like a fish.

You’d forgotten all about Olivia. You’d forgotten about nearly everything thanks to that damn kiss. People often say that when you know, you know, but they didn’t tell you how right it felt when you did know.

“I-I’m sorry.” You said, picking up your bag and shuffling away from the team.

You couldn’t even look at them. It was too embarrassing to see the faces of your team.

They must’ve seen that you were so ready to sink into that kiss, whereas Emily was only using it as a distraction. God, you felt so stupid and blindingly insecure.

“Y/N!” Emily called after you.

You were too busy trying to push your way through the busy crowds of the bar.

The entrance to the door was through the dance floor full of customers.

You felt shaky and confused as you tried pushing your way through. You felt unsettled and uncomfortable.

“Excuse me.” You said politely.

“I’m not interested.” A man replied, thinking that you were trying to get on with him or something.

“No, I just want…”

The man then purposely nudged into you, making you shuffle back a couple of steps, “I said I’m not interested.”

“And she’s not interested in you either, pal. Now fuck off.” Emily appeared behind you, steadying an arm around your waist for balance.

She looked really pissed off with that guy, but made no move to start a bar brawl.

The guy backed off.

“Come with me?” Emily asked and you gave her a small nod.

Her hand took clutch in yours and she pulled you the rest of the way through the dancing crowd. She didn’t stop until you were both in the chill of the outside.

Emily walked down the side of the road so you weren’t right outside the entrance.

“Why are you crying?” Emily asked you.

You didn’t even realise you were until she just asked. You were about to check for yourself, but Emily beat you to it and used her thumbs to wipe under your eyes.

“I feel so stupid.” You said.

“Why, love?” Her eyes looked sad.

“I ruined that for you, I’m sorry.” You were finding to hard to keep your gaze on her, but you knew if you didn’t then she would be able to profile you easier.

“Ruined what?”

“That… thing… And Olivia.”

“I don’t care about Olivia. Nothing was ruined there.”

“No I know, but.. You… It doesn’t matter.” You shook your head, readying to leave again.

Emily took a step forwards, blocking you in against the building wall behind you.

“Talk to me.” She said softly.

“I didn’t kiss you to make Olivia jealous.” You said.

“I didn’t either.” Emily shook her head and you could tell by her eyes that she was being honest. “I don’t want to make her jealous. I’m so done with her, you know that.”

“I do, yeah. I just… I felt like I was taking advantage of you because… because…” Your eyes started to water with tears again. “God! Why is this so difficult?”

“Because you’re worried that I won’t feel the same way you do.” She said and it felt like a punch to the heart.

“Don’t do that. Don’t profile me.”

“Y/N, I’m not.” She shook her head, “I know how you’re feeling because I feel exactly the same way.”

“W-what?”

“I am… crazy about you.” Emily admitted.

“Me.” You said to yourself, like it would help her words sink in.

“Yes, you. I am borderline obsessed with you and it terrifies me to think that you might never have felt the same.. or that I’ve just ruined everything by forcing you to…”

You shut her up by kissing her.

The same way she kissed you. You grabbed her jaw and pulled her into you, kissing her with every ounce of adoration you could. She moaned as you kissed her a little harder, only for her to take control again by pushing you into the wall and kissing you for all she had.

Emily tilted her head to the side and you were forced to follow, not ready to give up this moment yet.

Her hands found the back of your neck, both protecting your head from the wall and keeping you close to her.

She had to pull away for air which you were thankful for, but kissed you a couple more times in between each breath. The little actions caused you to laugh.

You kept close to each other, your hands still on her jaw rubbing small circles with your thumb on her skin

“I really like you, you know?” She said, breathlessly.

“I kind of gathered.”

She rolled her eyes at your teasing.

“Garcia knows. I go to her office at least once a day to rant about how gone I am for you. Like, yesterday, I was so in awe of how you looked in that suit that I had to go and get it all out in Garcia’s office.” Emily confessed and it only made you fall for her harder.

“You’re such a nerd, oh my God.” You chuckled. “Can’t believe you like me.”

“Pretty sure it’s more than just like, but I won’t come on too strong too fast.”

“Aren’t gay couples kind of notorious for ‘too strong, too fast’?” You joked.

Emily nodded. “But I want to take my time with you.”

“Me too.” You smiled, “And for the record. I more than like you too.”

“I figured.”

“So… do we go back now?” You questioned.

“Couple more minutes.”

“Couple more minutes.” You agreed, before kissing her a few times more.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Coming Out

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: some explicit language, mention of an unsub hurting Emily 😱, vague insinuations of homophobia, mostly fluff on fluff, feat. loyal himbo Derek Morgan Word Count: 2k

Summary: Emily gets injured on the job, and all she really wants is you, her girlfriend. But she's not out to the rest of the team yet. Can she be vulnerable enough to share that part of herself with the team? Can she be vulnerable enough to let you take care of her? Takes place at the end of S3.E2.

Emily dabbed at her head and winced, checking her watch to see if it had been long enough to take more pain medication. But despite getting clocked with a plank of wood, she was glad to be on the jet, glad to be back with her team because they really were starting to feel like her team. Who was she kidding? She loved her job.

According to the pilot, the team would be landing at Quantico in a little over an hour. Emily grabbed her phone, discreetly shoving it into her pocket, before heading to the back of the plane. She needed to call you, but the rest of the team didn't know about you yet. Hell, the rest of the team didn't even know she was gay. It felt too personal, and she'd been hurt by people's reactions–people she loved and trusted deeply–too many times. She played her relationships and her sexuality close to the vest.

Reid tapped Emily's arm as she passed by.

"Oh! Are you going all the way to the back?"

Emily tensed. "Yep."

"Could you bring me a Sprite?"

She felt her shoulders relax, and she patted Reid on the arm. "Sure."

After knocking on the bathroom door to make sure that truly no one was around, she called you, her voice hushed as she rifled through tiny airplane soda cans, looking for Reid's Sprite.

"Hey, Em," you said, your voice bright.

"Hey," she said, a goofy smile spreading across her face. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing much. Saw a street rat earlier. I named him Guillermo. I think he's on the prowl for a girlfriend."

Emily laughed, covering her mouth.

"How was Milwaukee?" you asked.

"Good. Really good. We got the guy. We're on the plane now."

She could nearly hear how smug you were through the phone.

"You're glad you went back," you snickered, relishing in being right. She'd sworn that it wasn't a big deal, that it'd be easy to get another good job, but you knew her heart was with the BAU.

Emily sighed. "I am. You were right."

"You're gonna stay?"

"Looks that way."

"I knew it!" you crowed. "I'm glad. You're too good at your job to quit it."

"Thanks, love. Listen, Y/N, can I ask you a favor?"

"Of course! Anything."

Emily winced, touching the swollen bump on her head. "We land in about an hour. Can you pick me up and stay at my place tonight?"

"Wow." You drew out the vowel, milking the fact that Emily needed you for once. "You missed me that much, huh?"

"Well, yes, of course, but... I, uh... I kind of have a concussion?"

Your tone shifted immediately from smug to concerned. "What?! Why?! What happened!?"

"Unsub hit me with a plank of wood," she admitted reluctantly.

"Jesus Christ, Em! Are you okay!?"

"I'm fine, baby, I promise," she reassured you. "I just got a little banged up, that's all. But I'll need you to wake me up every few hours and make sure I'm cognizant."

"I think I have some soup in the freezer," you observed, your voice far away. You'd put her on speakerphone to rifle through the cabinets. "And I have a thermometer. I don't know, do concussions cause fevers? I've never had one."

Emily shook her head, smiling. She loved that your first response, always, was to take care of her. Emily was not used to being taken care of, and she didn't let many people do it. She certainly wouldn't let many people see it either. But she let you.

"No thermometers needed. Just you and your car and more you when we get home."

"You got it. When did you say you land?"

"In about an hour."

"Okay. I'll leave in a few."

"Oh," Emily added quickly. "And you're cleared to drive into Quantico. They know the car you drive and they've got your ID on file. Just show it to them at the gate."

You paused. "Well, that's a little Big Brother of them."

"I gave it to them a few months ago. Just in case you ever needed to come by. Sorry, I should've told you."

"It's okay," you decided, pulling on a jacket and a beanie. "It feels kind of badass to be on Quantico's list."

Emily laughed, almost excited to have a concussion because it meant you'd be snuggled right up to next to her for however long it took to get better. 48 hours at least.

"Alright, baby," she finished, Reid's Sprite in hand. "I'll see you in a bit."

"Bye, love."

Emily wiped the grin off her face before returning to the cabin with Reid's Sprite–it'd look suspicious if she was too happy coming back.

An hour later, the team was going their separate ways in the parking lot, waving goodbyes and slamming car doors under the buzzing lights.

Emily leaned on the wall outside the building entrance, relishing the crisp night air.

"You need a ride, Prentiss?" Morgan asked as he walked out, used go-bag slung over his shoulder. "You shouldn't be driving" He pointed to her head.

"No, that's okay," Emily waved him off. "I've got– uh... someone's... picking me up."

Fuck, she thought. The concussion was not helping her ability to lie well.

Morgan stared at her suspiciously.

"What?" Emily laughed, trying to act normal.

"Why are you acting shifty?"

"I'm not!" she protested.

Morgan smirked and waggled his eyebrows. "Do you have a secret boyfriend?"

"What?" Emily said, laughing a little too forcefully. "No!"

He crossed his arms and waited. "You're seriously not gonna tell me?"

Emily leaned against the brick wall, rubbing her forehead. On the one hand, she was tired of keeping you–and herself–a secret. And if anyone was going to be supportive of someone on the team getting laid, it would be Morgan. But on the other, did she really know that much about him? She didn't know his religious background. Sure, he'd defend a gay victim, but that was his job. This was personal.

Emily sighed before replying. "I have... I have a secret girlfriend."

The silence felt like it lasted hours, stretching between them until Emily was sure the chasm would never close again, and that with just a few words, just by being herself, she'd ruined any chance of a friendship with Derek Morgan. It wouldn't be the first time. It probably wouldn't be the last.

Morgan seemed to think deeply before leaning against the wall next to Emily, turning to look her in the eye.

"Prentiss, why didn't you tell us you were gay?"

Emily was afraid to look at him, but when she did, her heart soared. He looked at her with nothing but love and respect and appreciation, no hint of hatred or disgust. If anything, he looked sad that she'd waited so long to tell him.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I don't always get a good reaction."

"Well, you know nobody on this team would have a problem with that, right? Hell, Garcia'd probably hang pride flags everywhere."

"I know," Emily nodded. "I just... I don't think I'm ready yet. For everyone to know. Soon, though."

Morgan nodded, then thought for a few minutes before asking, "Is it serious?"

Emily chuckled. "Being gay? Yeah, I'd say so."

Morgan shoved her shoulder gently, mindful of the day's injuries. "No! The girl! How long have you been seeing her?"

"A little over six months."

"So, it's serious."

Emily grinned. She was glad to have someone to talk to about this. She'd held it so close for so long. She wasn't used to having anyone to tell about you. Maybe Morgan could be that person.

"Promise not to tell the others?"

Morgan put his hand over his heart. "Promise."

"I'd marry her tomorrow if she'd let me."

"Wow." Morgan raised his eyebrows, smiling lightly. "Prentiss is in love," he said, teasing her.

Emily fought a wide smile, but lost in the end. "Oh, shut up. And don't tell anyone. Especially her."

"Your secret's safe with me," Morgan reassured her. And she could tell he meant it. Emily trusted him, she realized. She trusted him to be a good friend, to keep her secrets. She trusted him not to out her to the rest of the team. He'd let her go at her own pace when it came to telling the others.

"She better be amazing," Morgan added. "I don't know how anyone could be good enough for you."

Just at that moment, a pair of headlights crept slowly into the parking lot, hesitant and unsure. It had to be you. Emily stepped forward and waved a bit, then turned to Morgan.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow?" she said.

"Not with that head, you won't," Morgan observed.

You put the car in park next to the curb and leapt out of the driver's seat, hurrying over to Emily.

"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, anger and concern washing over you. "I thought you you said you were fine!"

You gingerly touched Emily's face and pulled her head down to examine the butterfly bandage above her eyebrow.

"Look at this," you grumbled, more to yourself than anyone else. "It's already bruising." You glared at the butterfly bandage. "Did a doctor do this or you? If it was you, I think we should clean it with rubbing alcohol at home."

Morgan looked absolutely delighted, both because you seemed like a delightful person and because Emily was beet red at being observed with you.

"Y/N, I'm fine," Emily said firmly, grasping your fingers in hers and removing them from her face. "This is my colleague Derek Morgan. Morgan, my girlfriend, Y/N."

You looked Morgan over and immediately decided you liked him. Mostly because you could tell that he really cared about Emily. But also because he looked mischievous, like he'd tease her. And if there was anything you loved, it was teasing Emily. You shook his hand enthusiastically. "It's really nice to meet you," you said. And you meant it.

But you didn't have time to chat with Morgan tonight. You were too worried about Emily.

"You don't look fine," you argued, looking to Morgan for backup. "Does she look fine to you?"

Morgan grinned at Emily, raising his eyebrows. "She definitely looks like she could use some TLC."

"Oh, and she'll get it alright," you assured him, opening the passenger door for Emily. "Shall we?"

Emily bent gingerly to get into the car, and you were careful to guard her head from the ceiling.

"Derek, it was really nice to meet you," you said, shaking his hand one more time for good measure as Emily rolled down the window, staring bullets at Morgan.

"You too, Y/N," he said, looking over your shoulder at Emily. "I hope you all have a very marry evening."

Emily pointed at him aggressively behind your back, mouthing, "SHUT. UP."

"See you, Prentiss," he called as you pulled away. He laughed and called out, "I hope it's a real honeymoon from work!"

Emily's hand shot out the window, flipping him off.

Later that night, your alarm buzzed and you blinked awake. You forgot for a moment that you were at Emily's, but her strong arms wrapped protectively around your waist were enough to remind you where you were.

You turned slowly to face a sleeping Emily, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Em. Hey. You gotta wake up, honey."

She groaned, placing a hand on her head.

"Sorry," you grimaced. "Gotta make sure your brain's alright."

"My brain is fine," she growled.

"Oh, yeah?" you joked, checking the time before shaking a few pills into your hand from the pill bottle on the nightstand. "Who am I, then?"

"The love of my life, Whitney Houston."

You laughed, which made Emily laugh, too. But she quickly doubled over in pain, groaning.

"Here, take these," you said gently, handing her the pills and a glass of water. "It'll help."

She took the pills obediently and lay back down.

"You know," you said, pulling up the blankets to make sure they covered Emily's shoulders. "I may not be Whitney Houston..." You wrapped your arms around her and drew her to you, and she burrowed her head into the space between your neck and your collarbone.

"But I think I'm a close second," you finished, running your fingers rhythmically through Emily's hair.

She sighed contentedly, pressing into you, then moving one of your arms to wrap it more tightly around her.

"Why are you so good to me?" she asked, quiet. You couldn't quite tell if it was a joke or serious, but you'd reply the same either way.

"Because I love you, you nerd."

She leaned up, planting a kiss underneath your chin. "I love you, too."

Within minutes she was conked out again, and you were setting another alarm, ready to do it all over again in a few hours.

[lillmirey]

„The Weight of the Truth“

summary: in which Emily relays on her Girlfriend

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: Season 17 plot line used. fluff

Word Count: 1,2k

The BAU was quiet that night, the kind of silence that rang louder than the chaos the team usually endured. Emily Prentiss sat at her desk, the warm glow of her desk lamp highlighting the exhaustion etched into her face. You, her long-time girlfriend, had promised to meet her at Quantico to help her unwind after a particularly grueling week. You often joked that dating the Unit Chief of the BAU meant being her second-in-command when it came to maintaining her sanity.

But tonight, you could tell something was different.

The moment you stepped into her office, Emily’s eyes lifted to meet yours, and you could see the storm brewing behind them. Her lips quirked into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, closing the door behind you. You placed the takeout bag on her desk and walked over, your hands naturally finding her shoulders to knead out the tension. “You look like you’ve been carrying the weight of the world today.”

Emily leaned into your touch but didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she closed her eyes, savoring the fleeting comfort you offered.

“You always know,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“Of course I know,” you replied. “I know you better than anyone, Em.”

For a while, she let you work on the knots in her shoulders, the room enveloped in a comfortable silence. But then she spoke, her tone unsteady.

“(Y/N)… there’s something I need to tell you.”

You stilled, sensing the shift in the air. You moved to sit in the chair across from her, reaching for her hands.

“Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together,” you assured her.

She looked down at your joined hands, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “This week has been… complicated. The team found out some things about me that I’ve been keeping under wraps. Things I never wanted to come out.”

You frowned, your mind racing. “What do you mean?”

Emily’s gaze lifted, the vulnerability in her eyes cutting you to your core. “Before I joined the BAU—before I even met you—I was… recruited by an international organization. It was supposed to be temporary, just a few undercover missions. But those missions turned into something darker, something I’ve been trying to bury ever since.”

Your heart clenched at the weight of her words, but you didn’t interrupt.

“One of those missions involved planting false evidence,” she continued. “It was supposed to take down a dangerous criminal network, but the fallout… it ruined lives. And now, it’s come back to haunt me. Someone leaked my involvement, and the team—” She broke off, her voice cracking.

“They’re questioning you,” you finished for her.

She nodded, her jaw tight. “They say they understand, but I can see the doubt in their eyes. I’ve worked so hard to lead this team with integrity, and now it feels like everything I’ve built is falling apart.”

You let her words sink in, the gravity of the situation hitting you like a ton of bricks. Emily Prentiss was the strongest person you knew, but even she had her limits.

“Emily,” you said, your voice firm. “I don’t care about your past. I care about who you are now. And the woman I see in front of me is brave, compassionate, and willing to do whatever it takes to protect the people she loves.”

Tears glistened in her eyes, but she blinked them away. “You say that now, but what if—”

“No,” you interrupted, squeezing her hands. “I’m not going anywhere, no matter how messy things get. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

Emily’s lips parted as if to argue, but the look in your eyes stopped her. For once, she allowed herself to lean on you, the walls she so carefully constructed crumbling just a little.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

You stood, pulling her into a tight embrace. She clung to you, burying her face in the crook of your neck.

“I love you, Emily,” you murmured. “And we’re going to get through this. Together.”

--------------------------------------------------------

The fallout from Emily’s past continued to loom over the team in the weeks that followed. Tension was high, and trust was strained. You could see how it weighed on her, the constant scrutiny taking its toll.

One evening, you found her sitting on the couch in your shared apartment, staring blankly at the wall. You slid in beside her, tucking yourself under her arm.

“Bad day?” you asked gently.

She let out a heavy sigh. “They caught the leak, but the damage is done. I can tell the team’s still wary. And maybe they should be. Maybe I’m not the leader they deserve.”

“Don’t say that,” you said firmly. “You’ve saved more lives than I can count, Emily. You’ve made mistakes, sure, but that doesn’t erase all the good you’ve done.”

She looked at you, her eyes searching yours for reassurance. “What if I can’t fix this? What if I lose everything I’ve worked for?”

“You won’t lose me,” you said softly.

That night, as you lay in bed together, you held her close, letting her feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. It was a silent promise—a reminder that no matter what happened, she wasn’t alone.

--------------------------------------------------------

Months passed, and Emily slowly began to rebuild the trust she thought she’d lost. The team rallied around her, proving that the bonds they shared were stronger than any shadow from her past.

And you were there every step of the way, reminding her of her worth, of the love that surrounded her.

One evening, as you stood in the kitchen cooking dinner, Emily walked in, a rare smile gracing her lips. She wrapped her arms around your waist from behind, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“What’s this for?” you asked with a laugh.

“For being you,” she replied simply. “For sticking by me when I wasn’t sure I deserved it.”

You turned in her arms, cupping her face. “You deserve the world, Emily Prentiss. Don’t ever doubt that.”

In that moment, she realized that no matter how dark her past might be, the future was brighter because you were in it.

And for the first time in a long time, she felt at peace.

[0o-junebug-o0]

Soft Early Mornings

summary: Emily takes care you when you wake up.

genre: fluff and smut

cw: 18+ mdni! kinda softdom!emily, kinda sub!reader, dirty talking, praise, fingering (r receiving), reader has a vagina but nothing else is specified (the only word used to describe reader's genitalia is clit), reader is written as non-male because I can't imagine emily as anything other than a lesbian, cumming in pants (I guess it counts), no use of y/n, morning sex, crying during sex, soft/emotional sex

wordcount: 1.1k

You wake up to the warmth of the newly risen sun and Emily’s hand under your shirt drawing gentle circles on your stomach. You groan softly and she presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Hey, baby,” she whispers. Her voice is husky and quiet. She must have woken up not long before you did.

“Hi,” you whisper in response, pressing your back further against her chest.

She chuckles slightly and flattens her hand on your stomach to pull you closer until your body is completely flush against hers. She slips her thigh between your knees, parting your legs slightly, before once again dragging her fingertips softly over your skin.

You sigh with contentment and turn your head to look back at her as much as you can. Emily props herself up slightly, her hair falling over her shoulder and neck, and presses a brief and gentle kiss to your lips. You smile as she presses a kiss to your nose before tapping the tip of your nose with her own and settling back down into the bed. 

You can feel her shift slightly behind you as she knocks off the bit of the blankets that managed to stay covering you both throughout the night despite your squirming. Being this close to each other provides all the warmth you both need.

“I love you,” you mutter.

Emily presses another kiss to your shoulder. “I love you too, baby.”

You hum happily and she chuckles in response. Her hand slips further up your shirt, tracing swirls up to your sternum and back down with two of her fingers. You let your eyes slip shut as you focus on the feeling of her hand, her love and care for you apparent with every soft design she draws.

Emily flattens her hand on your stomach again, just resting it there for a moment before shifting it so the tips of her pinkie and ring fingers slip under the waistband of your shorts. Surprised, you shift your hips slightly, pressing your body harder against her.

She raises up and presses a kiss behind your ear. “Is this okay?” she whispers.

A shaky breath leaves your lips and you nod eagerly. 

Emily chuckles into your ear. “Words, sweet thing.”

“Yes,” you gasp.

She kisses you again and you can feel her smile against your skin before she settles back down. Her hand dips further beneath your shorts and you gasp as one of her fingers brushes over your clit.

“Such a pretty little thing,” she mutters. Two of her fingers settle over your clit and start rubbing gentle circles. The feeling makes you moan softly as little sparks of pleasure shoot through your body. The sound makes her chuckle.

Emily doesn’t increase her pace at all, even though you know she can feel how wet you are, moving her fingers just fast enough with just enough pressure to drive you crazy without giving you more. She peppers your back with gentle kisses as you squirm against her and you can feel her smiling at every little gasp and moan that escapes your lips.

She slides her hand further down and you whine at the loss of stimulation to your clit. The sound is quickly cut off by a groan as she sinks two fingers into you at once. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispers. You let out a little broken moan as she curls her fingers inside of you. The angle is perfect, allowing her fingers to hit that spot inside you while the heel of her palm presses against your clit.

“E-Emily,” you gasp weakly.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby,” she soothes. “I’m right here.”

You whimper desperately as she slowly starts to thrust her fingers in and out of you, hitting that spot and nudging your clit every time. She’s so gentle, making the pleasure build inside you slowly, burying deep in your gut and creeping up your spine. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible and you can feel tears pooling in your eyes. A soft and happy sob works its way free from your chest and Emily stills her hand but doesn’t remove it. She props herself up, leaning over you and tilting your head so she can press a long and gentle kiss to your lips. “You okay, sweet thing?” she asks softly. You nod and open your eyes to meet hers. You let your eyes slip closed again as she presses her lips back against yours and resumes the movement of her hand. Her fingers hit that spot again, making you gasp into the kiss. She pulls back and kisses where the tears have gathered at the corners of your closed eyes.

“You’re doing so good, baby. I’m right here,” she whispers. “I’ve got you.” 

Heat climbs up your body and you whine desperately as you feel yourself getting close.

“That’s it, beautiful, so good for me.”

Her voice and words are so full of love and care and they drive you crazy, making you whimper and squirm.

“Em–“ you moan.

“It’s okay, baby,” Emily whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Cum for me.”

As if on cue, you cum around her fingers. Pleasure washes over you and your body shudders. You moan and clench around her as she works you through it, whispering praises into your ear. When your orgasm subsides, Emily gently removes her fingers and you practically melt into the bed. It wasn’t a violent or overly powerful orgasm, but the slow build and gentle release of pleasure exhausted you. 

Emily slips her leg out from between your knees and you roll onto your back. You open your eyes and blink up at her with a dopey smile, uncaring of the tears still on your face. Emily wipes her fingers clean on her shirt and props herself up on her elbow to look down at you. Her hair falls over her shoulders and brushes against your neck and chin, making you giggle slightly.

You reach up and tuck her hair behind her ear, both to stop it from tickling you and so you can get a better view of her beautiful face. “Hi,” you say softly, lowering your hand to rest on your chest.

“Hey, sweet thing,” she responds. She presses kisses to each of the tears on your cheeks. “Did so good for me.”

You feel your cheeks warm. “Do you wa–”

Emily shakes her head. “No,” she says softly. “This was just about you.”

She kisses you softly and you raise your hand to cup the back of her head. When she pulls away for air, Emily rests her forehead against yours, pressing the tips of your noses together. She slowly opens her eyes to stare into yours.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you too.”

_____

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Taglist!: fill out this form if you want to be tagged when I post fics

[emilys-bangs]

take a seat | e.p

Tags: lap sitting (sometimes in inconvenient places), bau!reader, emily’s man-spreading, reader is insecure about their weight, multiple concerns about being too heavy, too many mentions of emily’s thighs, brief mention of nail picking, there’s a bar scene but it’s not mentioned whether or not reader drinks, a gross man as a plot device, getting together, personal space does not exist in this fic, the last part skips to uc emily (rated t? it’s a bit spicy idk), the usual use of petnames

Summary: Circumstances happen. Sometimes, the solution is to make yourself comfortable on your dizzyingly attractive coworker’s lap. She holds your hips, you hold your breath. Or, 5 times Emily’s lap makes for a good seat. Requested here.

Word count: 6.5k (woah!!) (this says nothing about me)

A/N: it’s not mentioned which seasons this takes place in but I imagined season six emily because…yeah…..yall already know. However the last part does skip to uc emily (and married reader and emily yey :3). Clearly I went wild with this fic lol. I hope you like it <3

1.

You’re the last of your teammates out the door of the precinct. 

Just as you were following Morgan to the car, you realized you’d forgotten your phone—which was lying on the bathroom counter, forgotten in your haste to finish up before everyone left—and circled back in for it. It took a bit to find, your head cloudy with exhaustion after four consecutive days of working on the case. You slide it into your pocket now and briskly cross the parking lot to the open door of the SUV, starting when you find Emily already seated at the edge. Reid sits beside her, trapped by Morgan on his other side.

You blink at the three agents already stuffed in the backseat. JJ took the other SUV to drive a shaken victim home, and most of the precinct’s officers have already retired for the night. Only a few other cars loiter in the lot, the lights in the building dimming fast, throwing the night in more shadows. You quickly do the math and cringe at the solution.

You’re a grown adult. You hardly weigh a feather. Reid would probably snap under your weight, Morgan’s slight smirk already hints at the teasing you’re in for if you sat on his lap, and Emily…

Sitting on Emily’s lap is the last thing you should be doing right now. Just the flick of your eyes towards her spread thighs makes you fluster, swallowing hard at the way her left knee encroaches onto Reid’s space and forces both of his neatly together in front of the center console. Heat gathers on your neck, intensifying with the force of everyone’s eyes on you.

“Reid should get up.” You blurt before anyone says anything.

“What? No—I’m already seated, why should I get up?” His voice goes high pitched, his bottom lip jutting out in a sulk.

“Because.” You press your lips together, waiting for someone to back you up. They don’t. Traitors. “You’re a stick figure, honey. I’m—”

“You can sit on my lap,” Emily offers.

Oh, hell no.

“What?”

“She won’t bite, cupcake.” Morgan drawls, grinning when Emily shoots him a glare. “But you’re plenty welcome to sit on my lap, if you’d prefer. I know Prentiss here can get a little intense.”

Her jaw ticks.

“Come on, Y/N.” Emily isn’t harsh, but she’s not exactly patient, either. “It’s just for a few minutes.” Her eyes flick up to Hotch in the driver’s seat. Yours do, too, but your boss says nothing about the probable—no, definite—laws you’ll be breaking by finding yourself a seat atop one of your coworker’s thighs. So you do it.

“Is nobody concerned about breaking the law here?” You ask, but the attempt is half hearted. Everyone’s exhausted, and the outside chill is starting to creep in through your thin shirt.

“It’s the middle of the night,” Rossi says easily. “And we just placed a serial murderer in custody. I think the sheriff will let us off the hook for an unlawful ride back to our motel—for some much needed rest, might I add.”

Hotch turns to look at you. “I could drop them off and come back for you.” He offers.

“What? No, that’s—it’s fine. Fine. Whatever,” you mutter, shaking your head. It’s fine. The motel is hardly 15 minutes away. You can survive that long, surely you can. Looking at Emily, you try not to let it show how nervous you are—if you do, she’d back off, steadfastly refuse to sit you on top of her, and probably get out herself and demand from Hotch that he come back for her later. Which is really more trouble than all this deserves.

Fine. You’ll sit on her stupid lap.

“Don’t blame me if your legs go numb.” You mumble as you climb into the car, feeling your voice tremble in the back of your throat.

“Give me a little credit,” Emily says dryly. Her hands settle on your waist, lightly steadying you as you close the door. It shuts with a loud thud, and you gingerly settle yourself on her thighs. Her knees, really. She’s closed them to give you more space—space you don’t use as you lean forward and hold on to the back of Rossi’s headrest. You all but hover above her lap, holding most of your weight up and leaning into the seat ahead of you. 

It hardly takes a minute before your thighs start to tremble with the exertion. Emily’s hands leave your waist; they leave behind a strange mix of hot and cold under your clothes. The absence of their weight is infuriatingly disappointing. 

Hotch glances at you in the rear view mirror. “All good back there?”

“All good, boss,” Emily replies.

He drives off. You grip the headrest tighter as the car lurches onto the road, the low speed knocking you off balance.

Shit.

Emily’s hands return to your waist. Her fingers dig into your sides, gripping firmly through your clothes. You swallow, hands going clammy even before she leans in, her chest just brushing your back.

“You can sit.” She says into your ear, the whisper of her voice so low it’s almost elusive. “I’m a big girl, I’ll be fine.”

Something tickles your neck. You think it could be her hair. “I’m not exactly light as a feather.” You mumble haltingly, the particles of her fading perfume swimming in your lungs.

“And I’m not Reid,” Emily shoots back a little too loud.

“What?” Reid asks meekly.

You both ignore him. When the car drives over a bump in the road, you teeter. 

Emily’s hands grip you tighter. She exhales a low, frustrated breath; it skims the skin of your neck, teasing the fine hairs at your nape to stand on edge. 

“Careful, Hotch,” she mutters, fingers flexing on your hips.

The car slows. Everything is starting to cramp—your fingers around the headrest, your thighs trembling with your own weight, the heels of your feet digging into the floor between Emily’s. Outside the window, the precinct is still in view.

This is ridiculous.

You inhale a quiet breath. You’ll move back when you let it go, you decide. Holding it for a beat—two, three—you let it inflate your chest before exhaling and slowly easing yourself back onto Emily’s thighs. Inching back as if she won’t notice, gingerly letting your weight drop on her lap the more you scoot further into her. Your back finds the rounded softness of her chest. The curve of her knees nestle under yours. 

You bite your lip, bracing yourself for her to push you back up to her knees—or hell, even throw you at Reid—but all she does is tug you up further into her. She squeezes once, lightly, clearly satisfied. You relax a fraction as her hands leave your waist and loop around your hips instead, a makeshift seat belt to keep you against her chest.

“This okay?” She whispers, a hand pressing against your ribs. You’re not sure if you imagined the shake of her voice or not.

You nod silently.

Muscles tense, back ramrod straight, you try to breathe in slowly and hope that Emily’s fingertips don’t catch the edge of your racing heart. They dig in lightly, much looser than the firm arm anchoring your hips to hers. You can feel the heat pooling between your bodies—doubling, spreading, scorching. 

You’re used to Emily touching you. But not like this. She squeezes your elbows, shoulders, gently nudges the small of your back and lets her fingers linger when she adjusts something for you—your vest, hair, swiping invisible lint off of your clothes. You like those touches, you seek after them and glow warmly from the inside when you earn them oh so easily. But this? Oh, this could just kill you.

“Relax.” She says quietly. You fight hard against the urge to squirm at the warm fog of her breath on your neck, a small squeeze to your waist going unnoticed. “We’re almost there.” The rumble of her voice vibrates through her chest and into yours. 

The car tilts. Or maybe it drives over a pothole.

Either way, you’re dizzy.

Blood rushes hot under your skin. You bite your tongue, refraining from snapping at Hotch to hurry the fuck up when a deep inhale from Emily jostles your chest as well. 

It’s a small miracle that you get out of the car without stumbling, knees weak and legs boneless. The cold air slaps your cheeks and gives you reprieve from the heat burning them. You don’t get a good look at Emily until you’re in the elevator, trapped between her and the wall; the moment your eyes fall on her, her gaze snaps up. 

The corner of her mouth curls imperceptibly. She wets her bottom lip, dragging it into her mouth with a shine of teeth, the shadow of a dimple flashing, there and gone in an instant. 

Her cheeks are pink.

Oh, heaven help you.

2.

Your whole body feels like it’s been rammed by a truck. Your feet throb in your shoes, your shoulders ache, and your lower back is finally getting back at you for the way you’d outrageously slouched for the large majority of the three hour car ride. Two agents, a few hundred miles—hardly worth a whole jet for their comfort, right? Sometimes you think the BAU has you spoiled.

But then again, here you are, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, leaning against the front desk of a dilapidated motel lobby because for some reason—in spite of the laughably low demand—yours and Emily’s rooms still aren’t ready yet. The scrawny guy at the front desk had looked at you confusedly, scratching his chin and mumbling, that’s tonight? much to your dismay. You hadn’t been hoping for a five star service, but the least you can ask for is a ready room by the end of the night.

He’d scampered off—presumably to get the rooms ready, but it’s been ten minutes and he’s not back yet which leads you to think he’s maybe avoiding the disgruntled glare you’re throwing at the wall. It’s not like you can help it at this point. Your hip aches where you lean it against the vacant desk, and every so often you enviously eye the lone chair that Emily occupies in the narrow stretch of space so generously called a lobby.

And that’s a whole other thing, because you’re trying hard not to stare. 

Emily’s bag rests in the wide open space between her spread legs. Her hands are on her thighs, fiddling with the creases in her slacks like she always does, idle, her head lazily tipped back against the wall but her eyes still razor sharp. 

You wish she would just close her damn legs. Every time your eyes fall on them, unabashedly staring at the flex of her thighs when she restlessly shakes them out, you’re reminded again of the car. The overwhelming heat of her body, the strength of her hands on your hips—protective.

It does nothing to help your massive, debilitating crush on her. Not when you now fluster every time you see her sit on a damn chair, gaze wandering to her thighs and the way they held you up, the smooth scent of her perfume settling down in your gut with each inhale. Talking to her is even worse. Somehow, the line has blurred more. You have no idea where you stand, what you are, or how you’re expected to behave. You’ve always been an overthinker, but this is bursting your head.

Safe to say, work has been hard lately. Especially with Emily’s amplified flirting. At least, that’s what you think it is. You can’t figure her out sometimes (most of the time) when her lips stretch into a smooth curve, eyes going sparkly with playfulness and words dripping charm you can’t tell is manufactured just for you or is mass distributed to everyone in bulk.

You snap out of your head when Emily lifts her head, arms crossing over her chest. Drawn to the movement, your eyes meet hers.

“You’re sulking.” She notices.

Her calm tone grates on you. “I’m tired.” You snap. “I’ve been on my feet for half the day.” And you’re hogging the only seat. But you’re mindful enough to hold your tongue on that one. She’s hardly the reason you’re in this mess.

But she is making it harder to deal with—in several aspects.

“I’m pretty comfortable if you want to sit on me.”

You blink at her, irritation wavering.

Her eyes go the slightest bit wide. Lashes blending into bangs, a deer in headlights look there and gone in a flash. The inside of her cheek moves with what you think could be a bite as her mouth opens, brows delicately drawing together. “I mean…” She begins then trails off, her usual silver tongue failing her.

You feel your mood lighten. Emily’s cheeks tint a faint red and you press your lips against a smile, trying to ignore your body’s reaction to her words. Because you know damn well how comfortable she is.

“How forward of you. Or you could get up,” you suggest, halfway torn between laughing and bursting into a ball of flame.

Where’s the stupid reception guy?

Emily’s chivalry fails her. “I’m not getting up, I’m tired, too.” She protests, bringing her knees together. Your eyes drop to them. “I’ve been in heels all day.”

Your lips purse in displeasure.

It only takes a few quiet beats before Emily sighs, bending down to reach for her bag. “Okay, fine.”

Your eyes widen when you see what she’s doing. Immediately, you back down. 

“Hey, no, don’t. It’s okay, I was just complaining—”

She gives you a docile smile. “I don’t mind, babe. I’ve been sitting for a while—”

“Emily, don’t you dare get up—”

She ignores you. Before she fully stands, you walk over to the chair and sit down, forcing her thighs back on the seat. 

Emily lets out a quiet huff; the flimsy chair almost knocks backward from your sudden assault, teetering on its back legs. She steadies it and grips your hip, long lashes fluttering up at you as her thumb digs in under the hem of your blazer.

Oh, god, what have you done?

The corners of her lips twitch, messing with the pattern of your already unsteady pulse. “See?” She says, her voice strangely high pitched, “Now we’re both sitting.”

Your arm is just shy of her chest. When Emily inhales a little too deep, the buttons of her shirt press against your bicep—a short kiss, then gone. 

You’re still numb with your own stupidity. Only your eyes do any good, scanning her face and watching as the blush deepens on her cheeks, fair skin blooming red in real time with the fast pace of your heart.

You move to slide off her lap. Emily holds you in place. “What, am I that bad of a seat?” She murmurs, her arm lightly circling both your thighs. If you weren’t so focused on trying to control the heat in your face, you would have lingered on the strange tremble of her voice.

You ignore how heavenly it feels to sit down. You also ignore the way the tips of her fingers rest on the crest of your ass.

“I’m making you uncomfortable.” You say, horrified and unsurprised to find your voice choked.

Emily shakes her head, mussed bangs slipping from their place. “You’re not, promise. Besides, it’s—uh, it’s not our first rodeo.” Her brows raise, a small arch. 

You flick your eyes away, overwhelmed by the small distance between your faces.

Her hands loosen their grip. “But if it’s—if you’re uncomfortable, I mean—”

“I’m not.” You say quickly.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Her hands disappear from your body. You try not to make it obvious you’re staring—or disappointed—as she hooks one arm over the back of the chair, her nail notching on the tattered skin of her thumb. She peels away at her cuticle, repetitively picking at the skin as she watches the open doorway of the lobby. Her nail digs in, twists, and draws blood.

“Stop.” You take her hand unthinkingly, wincing at the sight of her nails. Emily’s eyes are hot on your face. “Doesn’t that hurt?” You ask, your thumbs gently holding either side of her wrist.

“It’s an easy pain.” Her voice is breathless. “Manageable, I guess,” she shrugs, her eyes darting away.

You frown. Her cuticles really are a gnarly sight—uneven skin and jagged nails and blood on her thumb. 

Emily’s hand twitches in your loose grip. You look up, she looks away again, swallowing as her eyes return to the door. A visible pulse beats in her throat; the line of her jaw is sharp. 

Her leg starts jolting. You jolt with it.

“Emily—”

“Uhh, your guys’ room is ready.” The receptionist says as he walks into the lobby. He briefly stares at the largely inappropriate sight in front of him. You stand quickly, fixing your clothes.

“Room?” You echo.

“We only have one available.” He says bluntly.

Your eyes meet Emily’s. Any retort you expect from her dissolves into silence, the both of you staring at each other with similarly wide eyes, hot cheeks.

Well, shit.

3.

When you see the guy from the corner of your eye, you tense. He’s almost concealed in the shadows frothing at the corner of the bar’s walls, waiting just beyond the bathroom you came out of. You quietly curse and dodge through a group of giggly women in hopes of losing him. 

He’d been practically glued to you at the bar, sidling up to your side with lecherous eyes and overwhelming cologne, both of which left a sour taste on your tongue as you ignored him from behind your shoulder and placed the team’s orders. When JJ came over to help you with the drinks, he stayed behind, but the heat of his eyes followed you all the way back to the table, lifting the hairs on the back of your neck. You saw him while dancing—lurking at the edge of the floor, inching closer until you hid behind the broad line of Morgan’s shoulder. Now he’s materialized on your way to the bathroom, and still he’s on your tail. You could deal with him, you know that—and your friends would be more than happy to—but it’s not worth causing a scene over.

At the table it’s just Reid and Emily. Hotch and Rossi are both long gone, and everyone else is busy dancing as Reid rambles over a bowl of forgotten chips, mouth moving rapidly, hands gesturing wildly in excitement. Emily nods along and pops nuts in her mouth with smooth flicks of her wrist. Her hair is fluffed from her earlier dancing, skin gleaming under the lights. You see her, knees spread, arm hooked over the back of the booth, and it sparks your brain.

“Emily!” You gush, slipping into the area between the table and her body and promptly dropping into her lap, both your legs slotting in the ample space between hers. 

She stiffens, her body going tense when your ass perches on her thigh. You briefly hate yourself as you press yourself into her chest, draping an arm around her shoulder and pressing the flat of your wrist to the warm, smooth curve of the nape of her neck. “Behind me,” you breathe into her ear, the dark strands of her hair rustling to skim along her exposed collarbone.

Emily instantly relaxes. Her arm slides around your waist, heavy and strong, fingertips idly skimming along your side as if she’s been doing it for years. 

“Sweetheart, what took so long?” She murmurs sweetly, the warm drawl of her voice turning your knees to mush. Her eyes meet yours and you go almost nauseous with want, dizzy at the way the bar lights outline her irises and make them gleam, dizzy at the honey-thick pet name that burns in your blood. You draw a sharp breath, stomach clenching; it trips in your lungs when her slender fingers graze your jaw, teasingly getting a feel for the hard bone nestled under your skin. “You had me worried, I was about to come looking for you.”

You can barely think. You know you’re too heavy, all your weight on one of her thighs, probably numbing it beyond belief, but you’re fixated on the way she touches you still. The searing heat of her gaze is enough of a touch all on its own. Having her look up at you, lashes so glossy they look wet, is a strange high you can’t get over.

“B-Bathrooms were full.” You stammer. You’re sure your pulse beats through your wrist and right into the back of her neck. It’s too much, all of it—her warm hands, the solid muscle of her thigh flexing as she brings it, you, in closer. Turning your head, you accidentally meet the guy’s gaze, his looming form jolting you back into reality. 

You tense on Emily’s lap. 

She feels it. Her hand leaves your jaw to grab your thigh, securing you further into her chest. The inherent protectiveness of it makes you flutter. 

“Can we help you?” Her voice sharpens as she turns too, her eyes narrowing. It’s a tone you recognize—the unforgiving edge she serves to unsubs in interrogation rooms, cold and stripped of mercy.

You almost shiver. The guy certainly does, though he tries to hide it with a stony glare.

“I’m alright,” he snipes, dragging his now disgusted gaze up and down your body. Emily’s hands tense, flexing on your hip and thigh until he finally turns with a shake of his head, sulking away to the bar.

You straighten the moment he does, inching away from Emily’s chest. “I’m so sorry,” you say breathlessly, clambering to get off of her lap. “God, Emily, I don’t know what came over me—”

“It’s okay,” she says, her voice tender but her lips pressing together into a thin line. The edge of her jaw hardens. “How long has he been bothering you for?”

You grimace as you settle on the booth next to her, eyes flicking up to Reid. You’d forgotten he was there, honestly—he’d been observing in silence, and other than his concerned look he doesn’t give any other reaction.

“A bit,” you say, not really wanting to elaborate. Emily’s eyes look far too murderous right now, and, really, this was supposed to be a fun night out. The enjoyment has fizzled out like flat soda, and though you throw Emily a smile, your heart’s not in it anymore. Your head is too cloudy, stomach tangled and twisted in knots—half nervous, half lovesick. A small tremor rocks your hands. “He was just being bothersome. Really, it’s okay, Em.” Before you can think you’re leaning over, your lips finding her cheek in a quick kiss. 

You’re close enough to hear her sharp intake of breath.

When you lean back you find that her pupils are blown, her lips slightly parted. A fleeting rush of confidence brightens your smile. “Thanks for saving me.” You murmur.

Her tongue darts across her bottom lip. “Yeah,” she says. Her voice is gritty, the smoky remnants of a bonfire. Emily clears her throat, “Yeah, anytime.”

You seem to have shocked her out of any reprimand. But you haven’t distracted her enough to stop her from splitting a cab with you and dropping you off, though your apartments are on opposite ends of the city. 

Fully composed, she drops a similar kiss on your cheek. Your keys almost tumble to the floor.

4.

It’s a strange sort of exhilarating to be allowed to brush your lips over the raven strands at Emily’s hairline. Her skin is warm, and after months of teasing, months of relentless tension, stolen glances and sly touches, here you are, red string finally pooled loose on the floor between you.

It’s a rare weeknight. Takeout has been ordered, movie switched on, and you get to experiment with things like these. Finally.

Her hair smells like coconut. You sift your fingers through it when you straighten, smiling as Emily’s arms gently hug your waist, her forehead rubbing against your torso.

“What was that for?” She asks as she tilts her chin up, the lilt of her voice curving to match her smile.

You really have no clue.

“Just because I can.” You shrug one shoulder. “I can, can’t I?”

Her eyes trap you from beneath coal-dark lashes. “Honey, you can try to set me on fire and I’ll let you.” She drawls, warm and flirty. You’re briefly caught off guard, too distracted by the velvet-smooth cadence of her voice to notice her hands skimming until they find your hips. Fingers curling down around the backs of your thighs, she tugs gently, forcing you in until your legs hit the couch.

“That seems irresponsible.” You stammer a little, flustering under her stare. She does it so openly, eyes unabashedly burning holes into your skin and flaying you open. 

You somewhat thought that confessing to her would make it easier on your heart. You now know you were dead wrong.

Emily tugs more. You all but stumble into her, bracing a hand on her shoulder to keep yourself steady. It’s not hard to know what she wants, but you play dumb anyway, a roiling pit settling in your gut.

“Emily,” you say nervously, “what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” She indulgently squeezes the soft of your thighs. “Sit.”

“I’m good,” you blurt, tensing against her hands. “I don’t wanna bother you, plus there’s plenty of room over here”—you gesture to the couch—“your couch’s awfully comfy, I don’t know if you know—”

“You wouldn’t be bothering me,” Emily interrupts softly. “Not at all. Is something wrong?” She asks after a beat, when you’ve let the silence stretch. You chew on the inside of your cheek and shake your head, trying not to squirm away from the intensity of her gaze.

Her hands loosen on your thighs. “It’s okay if you don’t want to.” She says seriously, all previous mirth gone. “Just because we’re dating doesn’t mean I expect stuff like that from you.”

“I know,” you say, your skin itching. You fiddle with the hair that cascades down her shoulder, for some reason stuck here in front of her though she’s not holding you still. The truth is, you know how good it feels to be that close to her. To feel the strength of her beneath you, the warmth that glows in the gaps between your body and hers. There’s a certain…safety in the space between her arms. You can only imagine how it would feel when you’re both openly allowed to be affectionate with each other, all previous barriers crumbled and broken down at your feet.

Emily takes your hand and brings it to her lips. Her kiss is just a gentle press, the slightest pressure on your knuckles. “Okay,” she says softly, smiling as she pats a spot on the couch next to her. “C’mon, I want to start the movie.”

You love her for letting it go. It’s a comforting warmth under your skin, and it’s just enough for you to ignore the anxious churning in your stomach.

“I want to.” You say, voice hushed as you place the backs of your fingers along her jaw, dispelling nervous energy. “I want to be close with you like that, and it’s not…it’s not that it makes me uncomfortable—I mean, we’ve tried it before.” Your lips twist into an ironic smile.

“Then?” Emily nudges, her hands gently roving over the sides of your legs. The whisper of her too-soft tone is almost too much.

You puff out a small laugh, chest aching. “Come on, Em. I’m not exactly the lightest person in the world.”

Her expression doesn’t shift. “So?”

“What do you mean, so?”

“So, what does that have to do with anything? I’m not the lightest person in the world, either.” Her shoulders raise in a shrug, brows furrowed like you’re not making sense.

You can’t believe she’s making you spell it out. It certainly wasn’t something your previous partners were ever hesitant about, never mind the teasing tones they used in a futile attempt to soften the blow. Baby, my leg’s gone numb—with a squeeze of your waist, a condescending had any dessert today? masked by a smile, the way it pulls enough of a reason for you to clamber off with a bad taste in your mouth.

But stupid, kind Emily.

“I’m too heavy.” You say flatly.

“Not to me.” She shoots back, her palms hot on your thighs. “I can take it.”

Heat flares at her words. You gape, mouth dry, “Jesus—”

“I can.” Her voice drags into a half whine. Emily’s eyes flash, her nails digging into the fabric of your jeans. “Come on, give me a little credit here. You’ve sat on my lap before—”

“Because I had to.”

“And did I drop you? Did I complain? Honey—” She shakes her head, the drag of her tongue across her lip briefly distracting you. “Let’s get one thing clear here. You want to and I want to, right?”

You nod.

“Then all you have to do is worry about being comfortable. That’s it. I want you here.” She says clearly, enunciating every word. “You’re not too heavy, and you definitely won’t be bothering me.” Her eyes go soft, her fingers rubbing over your pulse where she’s still got your wrist clutched in her grip. “I got you. I promise.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “You really don’t mind?”

“Please.” She breathes, as if she might die if you don’t. 

Your face must give, because her hands are gently nudging again. This time you don’t fight the pull, letting her help guide your knee up to the edge of the couch, then further. Emily’s other arm circles your waist and tugs down to get your hips to meet hers. You hesitate, hovering above her.

“I’ve got you,” she murmurs. Her smile is gentle, reassuring. You return it nervously as you settle in the rest of the way, her hands never leaving your body even after you sit with a quiet breath. It’s awkward at first; you shift to get comfortable, moving your limbs this way and that, but Emily waits patiently until you do. You finally find the right spot, your knees settling on the sides of her hips, snugly hugging her narrow waist. Your heart pounds in your ears, just about drowning out the sound of her low, almost inaudible sigh.

“Hi, gorgeous.” She beams, all but throwing the light of the sun in your eyes.

“Hi.” You lean into her hand when she cups your cheek. Her other draws patterns on your hip. “I didn’t know you wanted me to sit on your lap that badly.”

“Are you kidding?” Emily places a small, singular kiss on your closed mouth. “The thought hasn’t left my mind since you first sat on me in the car. It was so hard to keep my hands to myself.” Her voice has gone smoky, low and rumbling through your chest.

She didn’t, really. You would’ve said just that, but you don’t think you can say anything. She’s overwhelming you—totally, completely. The hand on your hip moves gently, traveling and squeezing; her fingers trace up from your jaw to your cheekbone, sometimes reaching the corner of your eye before returning to carve the same path. And just—her. The scent of her perfume and the curves of her dimples and the exposed triangle of her throat all thanks to her form-fitting shirt. Her touch, the relaxed slopes of her posture. The way she smiles and leans in to nuzzle her nose into yours.

It’s not possible for her eyes to soften further, you think, but you’re proven wrong. “You’re thinking too much,” she whispers. “Don’t think.”

Her lips seal over yours, warm and sweetened with her saccharine words. She traces the seam of your mouth with her tongue, slips her hand under your shirt and palms the warm skin of your waist, aiming to distract. You hardly last before melting into her, muscles gone liquid. When she kisses you like that, you couldn’t form a thought if you tried.

5.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Emily only looks slightly guilty. She’s warm with the glow of the desk lamp washing over her, pen held between long fingers, hand stilling over yet another report. You blow out a huff as you cross the floor of her home office, trying to hold on to it and not let your lips twitch into a smile when she rolls her chair back automatically, leaving ample room for you to slot in between the desk and make yourself comfortable on her lap. Because really, there’s nothing funny about this. It’s nearing midnight. You’re sure she hasn’t left that chair in more than a few hours.

“You should be in bed.” Emily murmurs. Her hand settles warmly on your waist, her thumb tracing the slopes under your pajama shirt.

“You should be in bed.” You return none too gently.

“I will be,” she promises, dropping a kiss on your mouth, “in a minute.” 

You level her a look, knowing full well she’s lying. She’s trying to soften you up with kisses and touches, but this has happened enough times that you’re (mostly) unaffected. Emily sees the unyielding line of your lips, and she places another kiss there.

“I just want to finish this last one. It won’t take long.”

“It won’t,” you agree. “But then there’ll be the next one, and the one after that, and the one after that”—you ignore her sigh—“and that will sure as fuck take long.”

You hate how work-oriented she’s been. Emily loves her job—and you do, too, you get it—but this is more than loving. It’s obsession, perfectionism, working herself to the bone. She used to be the first one out of the office. Now she’s the one declining team drinks because she’s busy with her paperwork, the high pedestal of her looming office distancing her from everyone.

From you.

You miss your wife. You’re with her almost every day, your steps in time with hers, but it hasn’t been the same lately. The skin under her eyes is constantly dark with exhaustion, calluses hardening on the sides of her fingers from hours of continuously holding her pen, and she’s been trying to hide the strain in her neck but you feel the knots every time you cup the back of it, trying to coax her away from uncomfortable chairs and bloody files.

You shift on her lap, knees spreading to slot her waist between them. It’s become a natural move, smoothened with time. Now you bring your chest almost flush with hers, your pelvis to her hips, hands spread over her ribs—just to feel her here with you.

“You’ve been neglecting me.”

It seems a petty, selfish thing to say, but it hits home. The fight immediately leaks out of her, the skin between her brows creasing, her eyes going soft with regret.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes. “I know I have, I’m sorry. It’s just…”

She fidgets with the pen in her right hand. Hasn’t even dropped it, you notice, relying on her left and shifts of her hips to bring you in close. You fight the urge to pull it from between her fingers and instead rub wide arcs over her torso, thumb skimming over the softly fluctuating movement of her chest. The buttons running down the center of her shirt are cool under your skin. You toy with them. 

“You don’t know when to stop.”

Nimbly, you flick open the buttons of her Henley, starting from the bottom. One after the other, as Emily’s breathing quickens and fills the silence her words had failed to. The sides of the shirt wilt open; her skin shines gold under the lampshade. You dip your head to kiss it, honey-colored and just as sweet.

“When was the last time you went to bed with me, hm?” You murmur, involuntarily smiling when her thighs flex under yours. “Just went to bed with me, and we fell asleep together. Can you remember?” Your hand roams, finding the hem of her sweatpants and slipping past. Emily’s chest rises sharply under your lips. 

“Honey.” She grips your waist—her right hand still notably absent. “I really need to—”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Your teeth dig into her flesh. Emily hisses lowly, muttering a curse as you soothe the sting with your tongue. “’M’sorry,” she says breathlessly; you look up to find her pupils blown, bottom lip blooming a fresh red like she’d bitten on it. “I know I’ve been caught up with work, I’ll do better, promise.” 

You skim your fingers over her hip bone. Emily jolts beneath you, her thighs tensing again. Her hand is hot on your cheek as she brings you in, kisses you with more attention than you remember getting from her in weeks. You can feel the desperation behind it—an apology—as your hand wanders deeper between her thighs. 

“I’ll do better, amor,” she mumbles against your mouth, frayed and trembling. 

It never gets old how she reacts to your touch. Nothing gets to her like the feeling of skin on skin—kisses, squeezes, tight hugs and idle fingers everywhere. It’s how she communicates, how she wants to be communicated with, craving the weight of your touch and the whisper of your skin. There’s solace in the scarce bit of space between your bodies. 

You hum against her mouth, fingers nudging past damp fabric. They wade through searing, wet heat, and immediately get soaked to the knuckle. Emily’s hips buck into your hand, a choked gasp on her lips. 

“You don’t know when to stop,” you murmur, wrist already cramping at the angle. With your free hand, you skim idly over her jaw, feeling her stuttering pulse under your finger. “I can do that for you, sweetheart. You’ve got a lot on your plate, I know, so let me help, hm? Even Unit Chiefs need a little support.” Your fingers sink home, and Emily’s lashes flutter. “Yeah?” You whisper.

“Y-Yeah,” Emily gasps. The skin at the base of her throat gleams. You curl your fingers and she breathes your name; you tilt on her lap, rising with the rock of her hips, but her grip on you is bone-crushingly tight.

“Been so long, hasn’t it, Em?” You’re thrumming now, blood hot under your skin, your pajama pants sticking to your thighs from her overwhelming body heat. A tilt of your wrist, a slow circle with your thumb, and her jaw clenches. 

The sight of it sends sparks crackling down your spine. It’s like you’re drunk on her. 

“It’s okay.” You kiss her chin, catching the edge of her lips. “I won’t let it happen again. And neither will you, right?”

Emily whines quietly, both her hands digging sharply into your hips. You smile, the gesture gone unnoticed beneath her closed eyes.

Paperwork is the last thing on her mind.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu@ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi@temilyrights@professorsapphic

[vigilante-3073]

LOML

Emily Prentiss x Female Reader

Summary: The story of how Y/N L/N fell in love with Emily Prentiss.

TW: Flirting, pining, WLW, Y/N is smitten, betting, proposal/engagement.

When Y/N saw Emily Prentiss on her first day at the BAU, it was love at first sight. Y/N had never seen a more beautiful woman and she was completely gobsmacked.

Emily had kind of appeared out of nowhere, catching Hotch and Gideon by surprise. Y/N made her way into the bullpen as she chatted with Reid, coffees in hand from their favorite cafe.

Spencer looked over at his friend when she suddenly fell silent, her gaze set on the young woman who arranged her items on a new desk beside Y/N's.

"Wow," Y/N mumbled softly, watching the woman smile as she thanked the facilities management worker for putting together her chair.

"Wonder who that is?" Spencer questioned.

"No idea, but I want to find out," Y/N said.

"She's obviously joining the team, don't you think that might not be the best idea," Spencer advised.

"Or maybe she's my ridiculously hot soulmate and we just haven't met yet," Y/N proposed.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's exactly who she is," Spencer smiled, shaking his head and taking a sip of his coffee.

"Come on, we're going to introduce ourselves," Y/N said, already making her way over to the woman. Spencer followed after her, lingering awkwardly behind her as Y/N approached the new agent.

"Hi, you must be new, I'm Y/N L/N," She said.

The woman smiled, "It's nice to meet you, I'm Emily Prentiss," She said, holding out her hand.

Y/N shook her hand, gaze flickering down quickly to check for a wedding ring before returning to Emily's face. She obviously noticed the glance, but chose not to comment on it.

"Oh, this is my partner. He doesn't shake hands, but he's happy to be here," Y/N said, releasing Emily's hand.

"Hi, I'm Doctor Spencer Reid," He greeted, offering a small wave.

"Nice to meet you both. I'm really excited to be a part of this team and I look forward to working with everyone," Emily said.

"It's a really good team. I'm sure you'll fit right in," Y/N said.

Emily nodded, "Thank you for saying that. I just want to do a good job and this opportunity means everything," Emily said.

"Has anyone given you the tour?" Y/N asked.

"Not quite yet," Emily replied.

"I have some free time now if you're interested," Y/N offered.

"That would be great," Emily smiled.

"Oh, I thought we were gonna-," Spencer started, falling silent when Y/N shot him a pleading look.

"You know what, nevermind. Have fun," Spencer said.

Y/N walked around the building with Emily, showing her where everything was located before they eventually returned to the bullpen.

JJ was leaning back on the edge of Spencer's desk, chatting with him while he fidgeted with his pencil. JJ looked up, a stack of case files held close to her chest, "Hey, you must be Emily. Spencer told me that you'd be joining the team, I'm Jennifer but everyone calls me JJ," She said, standing from the desk and offering her hand to Emily.

She shook her hand, "Nice to meet you, JJ... You're the media liason, right?" Emily asked.

"Yeah, that would be me," JJ nodded, releasing her hand and holding onto her files.

"Y/N tells me that you're one of the reasons this place is still standing," Emily said.

JJ huffed a laugh, "I wouldn't go that far, but I'm definitely here to help," She said.

Hotch walked passed them, making his way towards his office, "Actually, I have to run but it was great meeting you, Emily," JJ said, quickly following after Hotch.

"We have a case?" Y/N asked, Spencer nodded.

"Briefing in twenty minutes," He said.

"Perfect timing," Y/N stated.

...

Emily had been a member of the BAU for just over a year and Y/N fell more in love with her every day. Y/N knew that Spencer was right, workplace romances were incredibly messy and she could settle for pining in secret.

Or more accurately, pining about Emily to her best friend.

Spencer had to commend her, Y/N was madly in love with Emily but kept it hidden for the sake of the team. Everything the woman did made Y/N swoon and Spencer was beginning to have a hard time keeping her feet on the ground.

It also didn't help that Emily also seemed to have feelings for Y/N in return. They talked every day, dancing around their feelings as they both tried not to cross the line. Their connection seemed to be obvious to everyone except the two of them.

It was honestly a little pathetic to see two highly trained FBI Profilers ignore the behaviors they exhibited, pretending that nothing was going on.

Morgan had even started a betting pool two months after Emily started. Bets were placed on who would make the first move and how long it would take them to admit their feelings.

Spencer dealt out the cards on the table between him and Y/N. He picked up his cards, arranging them in his hand before he looked up at his friend. Spencer let out a small sigh when he realized that Y/N was staring fondly at something across the jet.

He turned in his seat, following her gaze to find Emily working on a case file. Her eyes were downcast as she scribbled notes onto the margins of her case file.

Y/N looked away as soon as the dark-haired woman lifted her head, offering a lingering look of her own. Spencer turned back towards Y/N, "Alright, I give up," He admitted.

"What are you talking about?" Y/N asked.

"Just ask her out," Spencer said.

Y/N shook her head, gathering her cards and adjusting them in her hand, "You know I can't," She said softly.

"Do you think being with her would make you happy?" Spencer questioned.

"It's not just about happiness, Spencer. What if we got together and had a messy break up?" Y/N replied, a point that Spencer had made almost a year ago.

"And what if you don't? What if you spent all this time pining after her when you could have been the happiest you could ever hope to be?" He asked.

"It's unlikely," Y/N replied.

"Is it? Because I have never seen you act like this... Hell, I've never seen anyone look at someone else the way that you look at her. You love her, Y/N," Spencer said.

Y/N glanced over at Emily, meeting her gaze and receiving a soft smile and a small wave. Y/N smiled back, feeling her heart race in her chest and butterflies flutter around in her stomach.

Y/N returned her gaze to Spencer, "I'll think about it," She replied softly, setting a card on the pile.

The rest of the plane ride went by quickly and everyone returned to the office to complete their paperwork. They worked quietly with sparse chatter about their plans for the evening.

Spencer could see Emily glancing over at Y/N, pausing her work as if she was deep in thought before reluctantly returning to her paperwork. Rossi turned in his report, bidding the team a quick goodnight before rushing out of the office. Hotch would likely stay in his office for most of the night and JJ would spend a few hours looking through case files before calling it a night.

An awkward tension had settled in the bullpen as Spencer completed his report, sitting stiffly at his desk as he pretended to add more notes. Morgan lingered at his desk as well, watching Emily and Y/N out of the corner of his eye.

Someone needed to do something soon.

The lasting game of chicken was beginning to become unbearable until Y/N stood from her desk. The remaining team members watched her walk up to Hotch's office and turn in her paperwork.

It almost felt like the tension had reached its peak, no one was willing to move a muscle as Y/N returned to her seat and began to pack up her things. Emily took a breath, setting down her pen and pushing her chair back before standing up.

Spencer looked over at Morgan, any attempts to be discreet now forgotten as Emily approached Y/N.

"Hey, Y/N," Emily said softly.

Y/N looked up at her, "Is everything okay?" She asked.

"I wanted to ask if you'd go out for dinner with me tonight... Just the two of us," Emily said, fidgeting with her fingers.

"Yeah, that would be great," She nodded, "Do you need me to wait for you to finish your report?" Y/N questioned.

Emily shifted on her feet, "Actually, I should be more clear. I'm asking you out... On a date," Emily said slowly.

Y/N paused, looking up at her, "You're asking me out?" She asked.

"I am," Emily replied hesitantly.

"Okay," Y/N said, her heart beginning to race in her chest.

"Okay?" Emily repeated.

Y/N smiled, "I'd love to go on a date with you, Emily Prentiss," She said.

"Good. Um, I'll go turn this in and we can go," Emily said, unable to keep the smile off her face.

"Okay," Y/N nodded, her own smile widening.

Emily gathered her paperwork before rushing up to Hotch's office. Morgan huffed, pulling his wallet out and counting out a stack of bills before setting them in Spencer's outstretched palm.

"You hustled me and I don't know how you managed it, but I'm gonna figure it out," Morgan said, pointing a finger at the young genius as he counted the bills happily.

"You keep telling yourself that, Morgan," Spencer replied.

"You bet on us?" Y/N asked.

"Everyone did. The pool has been going since a few months after she started," Morgan said, tilting his head in the direction of Hotch's office. He stood from his chair and began to pack up, "An extra hour of sitting here just to lose all my money," He muttered, shaking his head.

Emily made her down the stairs and returned to her desk, "What's going on?" She asked.

"They bet on us," Y/N said.

"How much?" Emily asked.

"Five hundred that you'd be the one to admit it first. Three hundred that it'd be a year and a half before either of you caved," Morgan said, walking up to Hotch's office with his report.

"Glad our relationship has made a profit for you, Reid," Emily teased, pulling on her coat.

"Have fun on your date," He smiled.

"We will," Y/N nodded.

...

Y/N and Emily had been together for exactly four years to the day and they could never imagine being with anyone else. Hotch had given the team one of their incredibly rare days off and the couple were going out to celebrate their anniversary.

Emily had made a reservation for them at the same restaurant where they had their first date. They shared a bottle of champagne and ate their favorite meals before splitting an amazing dessert.

Emily and Y/N walked down the road, following the same path through the nearby public park as they had years prior. They shared their first kiss after that date in this very park.

Emily took Y/N's hand in hers, smiling at her when she looked over, "I can't believe it's been four years," Emily stated.

"You can't be sick of me already, Em," Y/N teased.

"I could never be sick of you," Emily replied easily, watching Y/N's cheeks flush as she smiled.

They made their way around a bend that led to the spot where Emily had kissed the love of her life for the first time. Y/N slowed to a stop when she noticed the fairy lights strung up in the tree branches. Small candles were set up along the path with rose petals scattered on the ground.

Emily continued to walk, gently pulling Y/N along with her. As they got closer, Y/N noticed a bouquet of roses and a bunch of framed photos from their relationship on the park bench where they had sat after their first date.

"Emily, it's beautiful," Y/N smiled, Emily nodded.

"I have something very important to ask you," Emily said, her hand slipping into her coat pocket. Emily slowly lowered herself down onto one knee, pulling a small velvet box from her pocket and opening it.

"Y/N, you are my soulmate. I have never felt a love like the one I have for you. You are extraordinary and I can't imagine going another day without you by my side... Will you marry me?" Emily asked shakily, tears gathering in her eyes.

Y/N stared down at her with glossy eyes, "Emily," She mumbled, slipping a hand into her pocket.

Y/N pulled out a velvet box of her own, opening it up and holding it out, "I was gonna ask you the exact same question," She said.

Emily smiled, unable to keep herself from letting out a teary laugh as she stood up. Emily cupped her cheek and kissed her, her other hand settling on Y/N's waist and pulling her closer.

Emily pulled away, "That was even better than a yes," She smiled.

Y/N nodded, "You always beat me to the punch, Em. That's why I love you so much," Y/N said, wiping the happy tears from her cheeks.

Emily plucked her ring from the box, sliding it onto Y/N's finger before she repeated the gesture.

"Well, I guess my proposal is a bit thrown off now. But I do have the team waiting for us at a bar down the street," Y/N said.

"The one with the beautiful garden in the back?" Emily asked, Y/N nodded.

"You're not gonna believe this, but I actually tried to book that room before I decided to do this," Emily said.

"Great minds think alike," Y/N smiled.

"They definitely do," Emily nodded.

"Who helped you set everything up?" Y/N asked.

"JJ, you?" Emily asked.

"Reid," Y/N stated.

"I wonder how much money Morgan is going to lose when we show up already engaged," Emily said.

"Well, I wonder how much money Spencer is going to win for knowing it was a double proposal and not telling Morgan," Y/N said.

"That is a very good question," Emily smiled, wrapping her arm around Y/N's waist as they walked down the path in the direction of the bar.

[samsblades]

✶ accident or serendipity — emily prentiss

cw : gn!reader, bau!reader, fluff, alcohol consumption, kissing, unedited, 622 words. requested ! for my 900 followers event [ closed ] .

prompts : a green, velvet couch + “i love you. more than you could know.”

“emily, do you think confessions don’t count if you’re drunk?” you ask, really only tipsy. it’s just that rossi’s premium scotch makes your head so fuzzy so fast. not too fuzzy to think about emily, though, and how much you love her.

she looks up at you from her spot on the floor, cushioned by a thick, expensive carpet. she’s been concentrating on not spilling her glass of wine. “depends,” she answers, eyebrows raised. she’s tipsy too, though not as much as you. “it could be a sign of honesty. i think that the most important part is whether or not it’s remembered by both parties once they're sober.”

you meet her gaze, head tilted awkwardly from the way that you’re sprawled out over rossi’s vintage green velvet couch. “and do you think it’s stupid for two people to pine after each other for like… three years and never say anything about it?” you were away one of those years, so you wonder if that one counts. she sets her glass down and makes sure it’s not anywhere she could knock it down by accident. then she turns her body to face you fully, now eye to eye with you and only inches away from close enough to kiss. she licks her lips and your eyes follow the movement without an ounce of subtlety.

“it’s pretty stupid, yeah,” she says, voice softer now. then she drops all pretenses and just talks about you and her without the obvious euphemisms. “it’s just that the logistics are hard. i don’t want to cost you this job, but i don’t want to leave it again. so it’s easier to pine sometimes, you know?” and without any sort of real, tangible confession from either of you, there’s a full admittance of love. three years of it.

“yeah,” you sigh, “but there’s this job that i’m looking at. i– i don’t want to leave the team, but i… it’s really hard. this job is really hard and it’s been a year since i got back and it’s just– i think it might be too much,” you admit to her, eyes gone a little misty. her face morphs into one of deep concern.

“why didn’t you say something?” she murmurs, her face inching closer to yours. “i knew it was hard for you, but… you’re looking for other jobs?” 

you nod, your cheek rubbing against the soft armrest. “yeah. i am. didn’t mean to tell you like this, i don’t think. but since you were talking about logistics. well, maybe we won’t have to worry about logistics.”

“really?” she asks, her voice surprisingly vulnerable and hopeful. your chin bobs up and down again in confirmation.

“really,” you whisper. it’s an odd conversation. a very odd one, mostly because you’re both under the influence, but also because that’s just how you are together. most things go unsaid, but not unknown. most things said to one another are immediately understood without the need for any sort of explanation. but there are some things that should be said, even if they are already known without words. “i love you. more than you could know,” you tell her, your head leaving the plush armrest and leaning in towards her.

her hand floats up to cup your cheek, both for the sake of cradling you close to her, but also to keep your neck from straining too much. before you know it, your nose is brushing against hers. “maybe i do know. ‘cause i love you too.” then, just as they should be, her lips are on yours and you find yourself kissing your coworker on the second floor of your other coworker's mansion. whether that’s by accident or serendipity, you don’t care.

[notaboypossiblyagenius]

Wow, Homemade Cookies? — E. Prentiss

content: not proofread, inspired by 2x17, fluff, established relationship, no use of yn, talks of elizabeth prentiss’ a+ parenting, so a little angsty? but not really. sorta healing to emily’s inner child (which she never got to be!!!!)

wc: 1.5k

an: mind you, this was supposed to be 600 words long.

The scent of something sweet wafted through the air and immediately enveloped Emily in a warmth she hadn’t experienced since she’d left for a case last week. Since she’d left you. She instinctively inhaled as she set her go-bag down, trying to identify the source of the smell that seemed to take over her apartment.

She could hear you in the kitchen, the sound of cabinets opening and shutting. The sink running. Cooking? At this hour? She thought to herself as she checked her watch. It was past ten, and although it was comical, it wasn’t unusual. On the days you knew she’d be returning home, you’d stay up a little longer, wanting to welcome her with open arms and a warm meal. But, it didn’t smell like dinner. No, this was distinct, sweet and warm. It felt like a kiss to the forehead, a squeeze of the hand—It was comfort made tangible. It was as though the smell had caressed her very soul and soothed the ache that had lingered from the case.

You hadn’t heard her come in, nor had you heard her boots clicking against the linoleum floor of the brownstone. Her arms were a surprise as they wrapped around your waist, pulling a startled sound from you as you dropped the spatula you’d been holding. It clattered against the counter, nearly falling before Emily caught it, steadying it with a soft laugh that caressed your neck like a loving hand.

“Hey! You scared me.” Your protest died on your lips as Emily’s nose grazed your neck, her hair tickling your cheek.

“Did I?” She asked, and even though her voice was muffled by the proximity, the lilt in her voice was clear. “M’sorry, I didn’t mean to.” She murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to your neck.

Letting out a content hum at the sensation, you turned your head, looking at her over your shoulder. In doing so, you quickly noticed that her apology was far from genuine, seeing as mirth swam in the deep pools of her eyes as she met your gaze.

Your eyes trailed along her face, picking up on all of the other signs that betrayed her. The upward quirk of her lips accompanied by a dimple, her heavy gaze as she looked down at your lips.

“Yeah, right.” You huffed, turning in her arms, faces now mere inches away. She was even prettier up close, each time you thought you’d memorized her, you noticed something else. Something entirely new that made you swoon. You’d never understood the whole ‘honeymoon phase’ thing. It suggested that two people were only enamored momentarily, that they were only capable of loving so intensely for a short period of time before everything went downhill.

The idea seemed unfathomable to you, it always had. Especially now with Emily standing in front of you. Tired eyes—carrying the weight of cruelties you couldn’t even begin to imagine—looking at you like you’d personally come to save her, and maybe you had.

Your hands moved up to cup her cheeks, your thumbs running over the lines set deep under her eyes. Her eyes immediately fluttered closed, long eyelashes tickling the tip of your fingers. She looked like peace incarnate. Taking advantage of her current state, you leaned forward, your lips meeting the supple heart-shaped flesh of hers—a silent ‘welcome home’.

Emily, pleasantly surprised, let out a sigh, her grip on your waist tightening as she kissed you back. The squeeze forced laugh from you as you pulled back, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of her nose, earning the scrunching of her face in response.

“Hi,” You said, “Missed you.”

“Missed you more.” She smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, once more savoring the seemingly calming effect you had on her tired bones. As soon as she pulled back, she re-registered the smell she’d seemingly forgotten about. Her brows knitted together and she finally asked the question that had been prying at her since she’d walked in. “What’s that smell? What’re you burning this time?” She grinned.

“I’m not burning anything.” You defended with a shove to her shoulder before turning back to the task you’d abandoned in favor of Emily, who was now leaning her hip against the counter, arms crossed. She looked a little skeptical, the edge or her lip drawn in between her teeth as she watched you with raised brows.

“I baked cookies!” You beamed, ignoring the look she was giving you as you pointed towards the tray of cookies you’d left to cool on the counter.

Her eyes immediately shined with interest and her mouth fell open with a smile, “Wow, homemade cookies?” She said, pushing off the counter and standing next to you as she looked down at the tray, the corners of her lips pulled up in what could only be described as childlike-wonder, her eyes crinkled at the edges. But, her hair fell from where it was tucked behind her ears, obstructing your view.

Persevering, you tucked it back into place, cursing gravity for its lack of consideration. “Mhm.” You hummed, watching as she picked one up and broke it in two pieces. She looked at it for a moment before a distant look washed over her features, her eyes became unfocused and her smile lost its playful edge.

“Hey.” You said, squeezing her bicep softly, trying to bring her back from whatever place she’d just gone to. She blinked, looking from the cookie to your face, then back at the cookie. “Where’d you go there?” You asked quietly, hand still on her arm.

“Sorry, I just—” She began, biting the corner of her lip as she tended to do. Emily let out a soft exhale, flitting her eyes from your face to the ceiling and then back. “I’ve never had an actual homemade cookie.”

Your brows furrowed together, finding yourself at a loss for words. “Really?” You managed with a soft laugh, your eyes moving to the tray of cookies.

Emily nodded, a sad smile on her lips. “Yeah..My mom was never around to make them..Too busy with politics.” She confessed quietly under the buzzing light of your shared kitchen.

That hit you like a brick…

Something you’d thought to be mundane and routine—Something you’d at one point grown bored of, she had never experienced. Your eyes softened, and your grip on her arm faltered slightly as it registered. She’d never experienced home. Not in the way a child should anyway.

“It’s… Whatever, they’re just cookies.” She huffed before you could even speak, trying to downplay her vulnerability. It was so characteristically her, but it didn’t mean it didn’t make you wanna kick her.

“But, it’s not just about the cookies, is it?” You asked, softly. She faltered, the walls she’d instinctively throw up every time she revealed a little too much were useless when it came to you. You knew your way through them. You knew your way through her.

You tugged her closer using the hand you’d kept on her arm. And now face to face, it was easier to see all the little signs of vulnerability that were imperceptible in the warm light. The small crease in her brow, the set of her jaw, the slight gap of her lips. It was like she was to dismiss any apologies, to argue against any attempt at pity. But instead, you took the pieces of the cookie from her hand, holding one up to her mouth.

Her brows furrowed and she smiled, half-heartedly.

“Try it.” You grinned, because you knew no amount of ‘I’m sorries’ or ‘you deserved better’ would fix the damage that Elizabeth Prentiss had inflicted on the defenseless version of the now unstoppable woman.

She laughed, unsurprised at your ability to read her. At the way you seamlessly navigated your way through the ugliest parts of her heart. You waved the cookie in front of her lips again, looking at her expectantly.

She opened her mouth with a roll of her eyes and bit into the piece, her eyes widening slightly. Emily seemed to melt as soon as the taste registered. Her eyes fluttering closed and her brows furrowing together as a soft hum flowed from the back of her throat, like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted. She opened her eyes and took the other piece from your hand, eliciting a laugh from you.

“I thought I burnt them.” You teased, watching as she placed it in her mouth.

“A little overcooked, yeah.” She lied, her lips pulled into a pretty smile accentuated by a smudge of chocolate. “Clearly, you’re not very well versed in the art of homemade cookies.” She added, reaching for another cookie.

You rolled your eyes, wiping the smudge off with your thumb before taking a bite out of the cookie she had grabbed, earning a protest from her. “We’ll make ‘em together next time, then.” You countered.

“Deal.” She smiled.

You were determined to show Emily that home was so much more than four walls and a desk. It was this—homemade cookies and forehead kisses, it was comfort made tangible.

[yourmomxx]

Emily Prentiss(chief or not cheif) X Fem!Reader have been secretly married for several years, (if emily is cheif they’ve been dating since she was an agent and then married when she was a cheif and if not obviously the opposite). No ike knows or expects emily to be in a relationship because she doesn’t say anything until one day she forgets her badge and lunch at home so her wife brings her stuff and the whole place is shocked ? bonus if tara or someone flirts with her

a/n: ooh, I love me some secret relationship trope! Unfortunately, I'm still only on season 5/6 of Criminal Minds, so I just kept Emily as an Agent and not as Chief, if that's alright (Tara is in it, though ;)). I hope you like this, anon!

— ❝ɪɴ ᴛʜɪs ᴛᴇᴀᴍ, ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡs ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ. Tʜᴇʀᴇ’s ɴᴏ ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴄʏ. Mʏ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟ ʟɪfᴇ ɪs ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟᴇss ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴀɴ ᴘʀᴏfɪʟᴇ.❞ —

-Jennifer Jareau

Emily Prentiss was a private person. She prided herself in it.

I mean try it, hiding something from an entire office of educated professionals in degrees on how to read the most subtle shifts in a persons behavior and building a view based on that information.

Of course, let’s not forget, there’s the general rule, or rather, interdict, of profiling the other members of your team. But sometimes, you can’t help yourself.

Emily had noticed it in herself more times than she would like to admit.

Sometimes, it happened as easy as breathing, a natural trail of thought that let loose when she caught on about something or the people around her. She tried to undermine it as quickly as possible whenever she realized she was doing it, though.

It’s not the fact that she didn’t trust them.

No, that was never the thing, those people were like her second family. Or her first even, maybe.

But after spending almost every waking hour of the past years of her life around them, there were some things that she would rather keep for herself.

Leave them be in their own bubble that was just ‘Emily Prentiss’.

And when she talked about ‘things’, then she was actually talking about you.

The team could find out about her pregnancy, about her resentment towards the church. They could know that she had a phase at fourteen where she liked licorice and hasn’t been able to eat it since those dreadful seven months, or that she still hated her father for being emotionally unavailable and leaving her to deal with her mother on her own; they could know that.

But they couldn’t know about you. Never you.

This is wasn’t an issue of trust, again.

Trust was never in the mix when she made the decision, every morning before work, to lay off her wedding ring and keep it safe on a small chain in her back pocket.

But you were her safe place. A rock, a tow, something for her to hold on to, the only thing that was in no way connected to her work place.

Emily loved you, she did so much, and she’d known it after the first time she saw you smile, and accepted it during the first time she kissed you.

And hiding you, keeping you safe from all of this, was her way of shedding off the horrors and traumas of her job when she came home at night, completely tune out whatever she had experienced mere hours before, and dive back into you.

Your shared house, shared bed, shared sheets, shared kitchen, shared table.

Not talking about you, or even admitting you existed, while she worked and saw the worst sides of what humanity had to offer, drew a distinct line between her life with you and the life she led at work.

Call it a personal protective shield.

So, no, she would never, ever tell them.

“No. For God’s - No.”

Which is why, when Emily Prentiss walked into the bureau that morning, and realized her credentials weren’t in their designated pocket, and also her bag was empty of her lunch box, she knew that she was doomed.

Emily knew about your caring side. The loving, mothering, always everyone's shoulder to cry on-side.

Hell, if she was being honest, it was one of the reasons she started falling so hard for you so easily.

In that moment, though? God, how she wished she would have chosen a narcissist.

(Not literally, though. She'd profiled guys like that before. They really weren't wife- or husband material.)

You had just been on your way out of the house when you had seen your wife's dark lunch box still residing on the counter top where you had prepared it for her an hour ago.

After a quick look at the time on your phone screen, you had short-handedly decided to slightly delay your trip to the pharmacy for some mundane refills, and drop by Emily's office to bring her her lunch.

After all, you knew how busy she could get, and how her focused state had the power to drown out every other basic need her body had.

If you wouldn't make lunch for her, she wouldn't have the time, or the head, to think of buying something for herself, you knew that.

One would think that was clear after almost an entire year of marriage.

The thought alone brought a smile to your face.

You grabbed your car key off the counter and hurried your way out the door, closed it behind you, halted for a moment - and slowly backed up inside again.

You eyed the black case next to the key bowl suspiciously.

"That wasn't there yesterday," You muttered to yourself.

Cautiously, because when your wife worked in the FBI, anything was possible, you reached for the leather-bound case and drew it closer to you.

When you opened it, the tension immediately left your shoulders. You shook your head sighing at the sight of your wife's passport picture and the huge, dark blue letters FBI showing themselves to you.

"Oh, Emily, what am I gonna do with you?"

When you left the house then, it was final.

Hopefully.

"What's up with you, you seem stressed out?"

Emily did her best not to flinch in her already tense state when JJ came up next to her.

She managed her best, reassuring smile and pressed her sweating palms into the side of her jeans.

"Oh, it's nothing," She lied. "Just thought I lost something."

JJ raised an eyebrow. "Alright," She muttered. "If you say so."

Then, she crashed a light brown paper file into Emily's chest.

"This just came in from El Paso, three homicides so far. I'll inform the rest of the team and we'll meet in the briefing room in ten."

Emily couldn't do more than nod, and just managed to grab the file before it slipped to the floor when JJ left.

She wasn't usually like this. She was good at keeping her head in the game.

But right now, the fact that her credentials were missing wasn't exactly stressing her out, because she knew that you would bring them to her as soon as you realized that she had forgotten them at home.

Emily was stressed out because she knew you would bring them to her.

What she didn't know, was, however she should act and how the team would possibly take it.

The elevator you entered took a tremendous amount of time to realize which floor you wanted to go to, and even longer to slide the doors closed and jerking to a start.

You would think that in an official federal office building, the mechanics could be more advanced.

Then again, counting the many times Emily complained about the budget allocation of the bureau when she tought you weren't listening, maybe you shouldn't be all that surprised.

The doors slid closed when the thought suddenly hit you.

You were about to enter your wife's office. Which you had never been to, not once in your life and only knew the address of because goddamn, was it hard to miss.

The building that was probably the only thing that Emily had wanted to keep you out of for as long as she could.

And you came here for a lunch box.

Emily knew you knew. You had talked to her about it, she had answered your questions on why she always got fussy when you asked her how you could finally meet her team, and you had understood, every time, but this?

She couldn't just ask you to actively lie about your relationship in front of most of - all of - her friends, could she?

The last time she had checked your location, it had already shown you in close vacinity to the BAU building. She could figure what was ahead.

Was she about to deny a relationship?

“Can I help you?”

This office had way too many doors, in your opinion, and way too few signs telling you where to find what.

The greeting voice made you look up, and you automatically shifted into your politeness to strangers-mode, upon seeing a woman come up to you, wearing a two-piece and her hair in loose curls.

A very pretty woman, you had to admit.

"My name's Tara Lewis," She introduced herself, "Who are you looking for, sweetheart?"

You quickly waved her off. “Oh, I don’t work here.”

Tara tipped her head, eyes not so subtly shifting up and down your appearance.

“I figured as much, I would have remembered a face like yours.”

You managed an awkward laugh.

Emily had once, in good fun, told you you were easily caught off guard by people showing genuine interest in you all of a sudden.

You hated when she was right.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

Just over Tara Lewis' shoulder, you were suddenly able to spot the dark hair that indicated Emily Prentiss approaching from behind her.

You nodded in her direction in recognition, as she came to a halt next to Tara Lewis.

"I'm a friend of Emily's," You lied, and by God, you did it so neatly, Emily was questioning if she had maybe already dragged you down without realizing.

"She texted me that she forgot her lunch and her badge, and since we're close to each other, she asked me to get it for her."

That polite smile was still present on your face, and your voice pitched slightly higher than usual.

You threw Emily small looks in-between, unspotted by the usual eye, but she noticed them.

You were telling her to go along, to play the game, string it all a bit further until it turned into a web that could either wrap around and suffocate her, or catch her when she stumbled.

And she probably should.

Because you made it easy. You had made it so easy for her, laid it out like a red carpet for her to walk on, the lie, that could keep her sanctuary safe-

"I'm married."

In the midst of talking to Tara, your words died in your throat and your mouth stopped, hanging open.

Tara herself whipped her head around so fast, it was a question if she was breaking her neck, eyes ripped wide open in complete and utter schock.

It was quiet. In-between the three of you, a needle dropping would have echoed like the loudest drum.

"Say what now?" Tara didn’t take her eyes off Emily for a moment.

Slowly, movement seemed to re-enter your muscles and your eyes widened at the absolute extent of what had just happened.

"What are you doing?" You hushed at Emily.

Your wife's gaze - who you loved dearly, but in situations like these, could just hold by the shoulders and shake, shake, shake - tumbled between you and her co-worker, and you could almost decipher the exact moment she graciously invited the 'fuck it'-attitude.

Emily's shoulders dropped.

"I'm married," She repeated. Calm, collected, and slow.

All of the things you were totally not feeling right now.

"This is Y/N." Emily stepped next to you and held you gently by your wrist. "My wife."

And if the English Dictionary had demonstrating pictures next to each word, Tara Lewis' face right now would be pinned under 'bafflement'.

It took a moment, actually it took a few, for the Doctor to collect herself again.

She straightened her shoulders, cleared her throat, and shook herself out, as if to remove any unnecessary consideration that kept her from thinking clearly.

"Who knows about this?" It was her first question.

Where your shoulders were ever so slightly touching, you could feel Emily's body stay tense.

"Not really anyone," She admitted.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

Emily shook her head. "Y/N is my personal life," She cleared. "I spend almost every awake minute with you people. I wanted something to myself."

As subtly as you could, you leaned your body the slightest bit closer to her. It wasn't visible to the lazy eye, but Emily could feel it.

She squeezed your wrist.

You were comfort to her.

Tara's eyes flew between the two of you, contemplating, observing.

Then, from one moment to another, her lips broke into a blinding grin.

"A wife," She repeated. Emily ripped her eyes open to interpret her friend that she should keep her voice down.

"Good for you," Tara smiled.

Emily visibly relaxed. A breath she had been holding escaped her lungs soundly.

"Let's just be clear," She told Tara, "This is still my thing." She gestured to you. "My marriage is still my thing. I don't need the entire team on me like vultures, profiling my love life like they do everything else."

Tara nodded earnestly. Her small curls were bumping up and down. She pulled her fingers across her lips and pretented to turn a key in the corner of her mouth.

"My lips are sealed." She threw the imaginary key far, far behind the office desks. "Lovergirl."

Emily ignored her and turned to you.

Your fingers lingered around hers in the movement.

"Thank you," She breathed out quietly. A soft smile played around your lips as you looked into her eyes, recognizing that specific gentleness that you knew she only gifted you with.

"Anytime."

You placed her lunch box in her hands. "It's rice with some peas and corn." Emily smiled. "You're the best."

"And, before I forget-" You pulled out the badge from your bag, but instead of giving it to Emily directly, you opened her suit jacket and found the inner pocket, safely storing the credentials where you knew she kept them every day.

You smoothed out the jacket when you were done.

"There you go."

Emily didn't even know what to say. That warm feeling, that she felt in her entire body every time she looked at you, realized who you were and who you were to her, it made itself known in this moment right now.

Right here, in the middle of her workspace.

And with all the horrors she'd see, it was probably the most content she had felt in this place in a while.

"You are so amazing." The words didn't come close to what she was feeling.

But the way your eyebrows loosened, and your lips slightly parted, she knew you understood.

"This is so sweet, and I hate to be that person, but Prentiss, we have a case to get to."

Emily cleared her throat, being ripped from whatever that moment had been, and reminded on what ground she was standing right now.

"Right," She said. She opened her arms and leaned in to pull you into a hug.

A hug, not a kiss on the cheek.

She wasn't that far yet.

"It's okay." The feeling of your breathed words tickled near her ear. "I understand."

Emily squeezed you a bit tighter.

"Get home safe."

You slowly broke away from the embrace.

"I will," You promised.

Tara mouthed a quick 'I'm so sorry' in your direction. You laughed and waved her a goodbye, before you headed for the elavator again, and she got on her way to follow after Emily, who had already made her way to where JJ had ordered them a few minutes ago.

Tara endured until the top step.

"Oh.my.God. I can't believe it!" She almost squealed as they made their way next to each other to the briefing room.

"Look at us, sharing secrets now. Ah." She shook out her shoulders. "I feel like this is a pyjama party in junior year all over again. Amazing."

Emily couldn't do anything else than grin at Tara's antics.

Suddenly, her pocket vibrated with a short tune, and Emily pulled out her phone to check her display.

It was a message from you. Emily smiled softly as she read it.

Have a good day, my sun. Will hopefully see you tonight<3

"A message from boo?" Tara mocked, and tried to peak over Emily's shoulder.

Emily quickly shut off the display, stuffed her phone back into her backpocket and continued walking.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

But the lovesick smile didn't leave Emily's face for the rest of the way to the briefing room, partly because she was so caught up in her thoughts about the specific feeling of your skin, that she didn't even notice she was wearing it.