#hadidaway💋

[a-cloud-for-dreams]

saying this is one of my favorite elle greenway blurbs would be an understatement because 💖😭💕✨

heart of glass

elle greenaway x academic!fem!reader

sometimes unfounded jealously can't help but creep in

word count: 6.3hnd

warnings: insecurity related jealousy, breaking of glass

a/n: a short little blurb!! fuelled by my academic delirium and yearning for elle greenaway

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Her gaze could burn a hole through the fabric of your jacket.

You know Elle is looking at you from across the packed room — she always is. It’s a habit she developed before the two of you were even together, a remnant from her FBI training. There’s about fifteen other agents scattered throughout the joint but she still doesn’t trust anyone else with your safety. The man sitting beside you at the bar is nice enough, but he isn’t a threat. It turns out he audited one of your classes a few years back and wanted to know where your research project at the time had taken you.

“The book comes out next year, but the abstract is available in the latest volume of the Harvard Theological Review,” you explain, slightly out of breath. Gender studies, particularly in the ancient world, is something you're incredibly passionate about, and you always end up talking more than needed. Your friends and family love it, especially Elle, but near strangers don’t always react in such a positive way.

Andrew, at least that’s what you think his name is, seems enthralled though. “Wow, Doctor, that’s incredible! Congratulations.”

At the mention of your title you bristle a little. Though you earned it, worked incredibly hard for it, there’s something about being addressed by it outside the world of academia that makes you uncomfortable. “Please,” you insist, “No need for formalities here.”

The next time Andrew addresses you, calls you by your first name, the heat you feel on your back increases until the bar feels like it’s a hundred degrees. You don’t have to look over your shoulder to know that Elle is silently smouldering. The sound of a glass breaking rings in the distance, quickly followed by hollers that could only belong to one Derek Morgan. You know it’s Elle’s doing. Whether she threw it or just gripped it so tightly until it shattered you aren’t sure, but you know you need to go attend to her bruised ego.

“I hope you’ll excuse me, my wife seems to have somehow been involved with whatever that was, and I need to check on her.”

He understands, and you strut to the table in the corner housing Elle and her co-workers. As you get closer the sound of Aaron Hotchner giving your wife a lecture becomes incredibly apparent — at least you’ve been spared that. For someone who was never an academic, Hotch is one of the best lecturers you’ve ever met. Derek just smirks when you reach them, arms folded and brows furrowed to let Elle know she’s being just a little bit ridiculous.

She doesn’t even let you speak. “I’m working on it,” she grumbles, shifting on the bench seat to allow you to join her.

“Oh yeah? How’s that going?” you laugh, never good at holding a grudge against her. Besides, the fact that she still gets jealous after all these years is comical.

Elle isn’t pleased with your teasing. She pouts like a small child who’s just been scolded. In a way she has been, though not by you, and the reaction may be warranted but it’s still hilarious. “I’m really trying, I swear, but you’re just so beautiful I can’t help getting a little nervous that someone might try and pluck you from me.”

“He asked about the book.”

The words seem to drain all the tension from her shoulders. “Oh thank god,” Elle sighs, “You can finally talk about it to someone else.”

Glad her cheekiness is back in full force, you aren’t even upset at the insinuation she’s tired of listening to you ramble about the publishing process. “Nope, never. You’re my sounding board forever, sweetheart.”

The smile she gives lets you know Elle wouldn’t have it any other way.

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