#when i say emily prentiss red top i Know these images are playing in your head

[luthqrs]

EMILY PRENTISS in CRIMINAL MINDS 3x03 | 'Scared to Death'

[hotchs-bitch]

I Will

Summary: A year and a half after the New York case, you and Aaron are finally home

Pairing: Hotch x blank slate Fem!Reader (no use of y/n), Emily Prentiss x mentioned oc (aka @leftoverenvy)

Word count: 1k

Warnings: domestic fluff, mentions of alcohol

A/N: Aaaaand that's a wrap, folks. Enjoy this little peek into their lives. I can't express how grateful I am for every piece of feedback and support on this series as we discovered that these two had a chokehold on me that simply refused to let go. Love always to my fantastic betas, @munsons-curls and @doctorstethoscope for speed-betaing this so I could get it out asap!

Find it on ao3 here and as always, happy reading <3

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----

And when at last I find you

Your song will fill the air

Sing it loud so I can hear you

Make it easy to be near you

----

“Thanks for coming, guys!” You call out, watching your guests filter out through the door.

Katie and Emily are the last to leave after the rest of the BAU, lingering in the doorway in the way of women who know that the taxi is waiting but still want to chat. “We’ll do it again soon,” Emily says and then she’s gone, her wife dragging her out by the hand.

It’s a good thing, too. You love Emily, but she’s the type to suggest ‘one more glass of red’ and then fall asleep on your couch four hours later. She’s done it before.

Playing hostess is fun, but you’re tired and you’re sure that the rest of your family is, too.

“Say goodnight, buddy,” you hear Aaron call out, his voice floating from the living room. It’s chasing Jack, who runs into your side to give you his version of a bear hug.

“Goodnight, Momma,” he says, and your heart melts a little bit, just like it always does when he calls you that.

You reach to smooth some stray hairs from his forehead- he’s got a cowlick just like his father’s, and it’s made itself known in the last couple of months- and place a kiss to the top of his head. “Goodnight, Jack Attack. Brush your teeth and then say ‘night to Dad, okay?”

“I will!” He pulls back with a large yawn, and you smile in the direction of the bathroom as he walks towards it.

He’s in that independent stage now, the one where he doesn’t want to be told what to do but won’t do it otherwise. You’re dreading the teen years already.

You wait for the sound of running water from the bathroom before heading into the kitchen to clean up what seems to be a hundred dishes, plates and empty wine glasses clustered on the dining table.

The BAU knows how to have a good time, even if it’s just at a dinner party.

Music while cleaning is your friend, so you turn on the kitchen speaker and sway to it, humming under your breath while you flit around and tidy up.

The task is so entrancing that you don’t notice Aaron at first, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen with his arms crossed, his hands around the necks of empty wine bottles. You don’t see the look on his face while he observes you.

You don’t see him blink away what could be tears when he sees this image of you, dancing in the kitchen after a night of friends and drinks and entertainment. It’s an image that haunted him when he first bought the house, and seeing it come to life does something to his chest that feels a lot like coming home.

“Need a hand?” He asks after a minute. It might have been more than a minute; he can’t help being entranced, after all. He’s got everything he needs, and he’s looking right at it.

When you turn around and see him, you give him a grin. “I’ll never say no. Is your son in bed?” You ask, taking the bottles from your fiancés hands.

Before you can set them down, he pulls you in for a quick kiss. “He called me ‘Aaron’ yesterday. He’s your son for now.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” you joke, placing the bottles in the recycling bin. “When he aces a math test, he’s your son. The second he disrespects his elders, he’s all mine.”

“Exactly.” Aaron pulls you back in and you let him, warm arms enveloping you against his chest. “I’m glad you understand.”

There’s a retort on the tip of your tongue, but it gives way to a pleased sigh when Aaron’s hand rubs circles on your back. “We should do this more often. It was nice seeing everyone outside of the office,” you murmur, and Aaron makes a noise of agreement that rumbles his chest.

You hear his lips part, his mouth open like he’s about to speak, but then the song that’s playing changes. “Hey, listen.” When you nod towards the speaker, you both fall silent to let the sound of The Beatles wash over you.

Who knows how long I've loved you

You know I love you still

Will I wait a lonely lifetime

If you want me to, I will

When Aaron starts to sing, you melt against him. “For if I ever saw you,” he starts, low and deep in your ear, “I didn't catch your name.”

His arms shift around you, and you follow the movements to sway back and forth with him while you join in with, “But it never really mattered, I will always feel the same.”

Love you forever and forever

Love you with all my heart

Love you whenever we're together

Love you when we're apart

The song fills the air around you, fills a hole in your chest that Aaron has spent a year and a half healing. He takes one of your hands in his and you laugh out loud when he starts to dance with you. 

It’s a Rumba dance that doesn’t fit anything except the speed of the song, and he wraps a hand around yours and guides your two left feet around the kitchen. The sound of the Beatles plays on, and he rubs the pad of his thumb over the diamond ring that glistens under the warm kitchen light.

You’re home.

For the things you do endear you to me

You know I will

I will

Tags: @crowfootwrites @abschaffer2 @jaspxr @angelfxllcm @spacecowboyhotch @ssamorganhotchner @sadgirlml @sunshinemunchkin @wheelsupkels @ashhotchner @laurensprentiss @hotchnerxo @strange-mischief @helmihotchner @dontcallmekittens @ssacharcoalgrey @allthefandomstogether @pandorasdreamings @hotched @scargarcia-magshotchner @multiverse-mxdness @nevillescomslut @queenofthepouges @ivanaplvc @itseightbeats @justreadingficsdontmindme @jareauswife @reidselle @mojo366 @anlin2058 @realdirectionx @feedthemadness-sweetie @greg-montgomery @hausofwhores @rousethemouse

Series tags: @riot—ing @jori21 @simpingfortoomanypeople @mynotesapptbh

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[qslovebot]

KISS FOR YOUR LIFE: SPENCER REID

Summary: A BAU case leads the reader to take on an undercover role to flush out a ten-person mafia. Before the work can begin, things go awry and the reader has to improvise and pretend to seduce Spencer to keep her cover and arrest the real unsub.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings/includes: talk of murder, mentions of sex, suggested past experiences with misogyny, suggestive jokes, unsub is a radical feminist, swearing, arrests, guns, making out, sort of fluffy end.

Word Count: 4159

A/N: Written like an episode. I removed Rossi so... AU? First actual fanfic on here, tell me what you think?

Today was your first official day at the BAU, switching from two floors down as an underestimated agent to upstairs, with the Big League. Agent Hotchner decided he needed new, young-minded blood. He was notorious for picking the best of the best and after an intimidating interview with him and his brooding questions, he decided he wanted you on his team.

You had been here before, of course. You frequently visited the ever-chatting Penelope Garcia for lunch, sometimes in her office, sometimes heading downstairs for a slice of pizza or a salad. She vented about her issues, while you talked about the constant misogyny that ran through the men on your floor. She was five years older than you and decided that as your 'elder' she would put on the angry soccer mom look and kick their asses. But, lucky for you, two floors upward, the men didn't act like children on the job, so Garcia could keep her regular look.

Here it was, glass entrance, high ceilings. The air smelled like paper and was filled with a fresh sort of low mumbling and the small clicks of the keyboards. A semi-fresh start. Today you would organize your new desk, sort files, meet the others...

"Agent (Y/L/N), we have a case in Boston, we will be briefed on the jet. Get your things ready, we leave in twenty-five minutes," Agent Hotchner said as he walked by. He didn't stop for a single second, those dark dress shoes clomping heavily to the desks of your new fellow agents to inform them as well. So much for your plans.

Not wanting to appear unready, you rushed to set your things down and grab the few things you needed for the case. Hotchner had said always bring three spare outfits rolled to the smallest packing size possible, toiletries (toothpaste, toothbrush, hairbrush, and feminine hygiene products) as well as one extra pair of shoes. Those were already packed into a small bag, so in with those went your notebook, pens, and highlighter. You came prepared, so in no time, you were on the jet for the first time, exhilarated.

A hand was extended to you when you took your seat. It belonged to a man with caramel skin and a dazzling smile, "You must be (Y/L/N). The name is Derek Morgan." Anyone who used 'the name is' seemed like they felt superior in some way. It was used in the media to introduce someone of importance. 'The name is Bond, James Bond', ran through your head as you gratefully shook his hand.

"My name is Emily Prentiss and I... didn't quite catch your first name," a woman with a v-neck sweater also reached to shake your hand. "I think I may have heard it, but I must have forgotten."

"(Y/N)," you replied with a small smile. It felt nice to be greeted with kind eyes, rather than greedy ones. "It's not a very memorable name, don't worry."

Emily looked apologetic, but soon reverted to her previous smile. I was greeted by the blonde woman across the aisle, too far to shake my hand. "My name is Jennifer Jareau, I'm the media liaison, but you can call me JJ, everyone does. It's really great to meet you- for a moment I thought Penelope had made up a friend as a result of too many hours in front of a screen."

You laughed a little, ruffling your hair. She seemed outgoing, but I had already started profiling Derek Morgan and I wanted to stop there. Agent Hotchner sat down with someone I had never noticed on my visits to Penelope. I had noticed everyone else here on this jet at least once before, but... not him. How had you missed him?

He stood at about six-one, maybe six-two? He was thin, much the opposite to Morgan's greatly muscular arms. This man was calm-looking, quiet. His clothes said that maybe he was meticulous and orderly- he looked like the kind of person who didn't own a single pair of sweatpants. His face was chiselled, with a sharp jawline and cheekbones that carved the shadows on his face. His eyes, however, were much softer. Long eyelashes and dark eyes made them bigger, but they were slightly blocked by bronze-toned brown curls that at the end of his combed and gelled hair, wrapped around his jaw, neck, and face.

He was beautiful, if you were entirely frank with yourself.

And he didn't even notice you were there until Hotchner nudged his arm in a way that said 'say hello' the same way one would introduce two toddlers. You were sure you weren't a toddler and nor was this man, but it appeared you both may have been the youngest there.

When he looked your way, you wanted to look away, but couldn't. He seemed surprised to see you there and you were trying to play off the staring by introducing yourself. "Hi, I'm SSA (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I don't think we've met, it's nice to meet you." You extended your hand and he just shook his head no, his lips pressing into a tight line.

He didn't shake hands, you realized. Probably a slight germophobe. You cleared your throat, "I'm sorry if that was an uncomfortable gesture, I didn't know." Humiliating.

The tall man opened his mouth to say something, shut his mouth, opened it again but then turned a little pink and sat down immediately next to Hotchner and stared at his hands that were folded in his lap. You had thought you nailed pretty much every introduction, but this one? Fuck.

You reverted back to your business with a sigh, patting your knees. It felt like you had somehow lost something. JJ whispered to you, silently pointing to the tall man, "Dr. Spencer Reid, human encyclopedia, dictionary, and knows pretty much everything." You nodded a thank you and she nodded back.

Derek Morgan, however, tapped Emily Prentiss on the shoulder and mumbled, "Reid did his 'pretty-girl-freakout'."

Emily gasped, "Oh, he did!

The two seemed to have forgotten you were in front of them and they noticed your confusion in unison, both of them freezing up and chuckling nervously. You smiled an extremely awkward smile and left thinking about Dr. Spencer Reid for later as you got to the case.

This was about a female mafia boss who seemed to take on the personality, style, and characteristics of the taste of rich men and kill them after having sex with them. The woman was reported and seen by one witness to see her and that was the only person outside of this mafia who had seen her face, so they were working with the sketch artist and would have the picture ready and accurate upon our arrival.

Victimology was simple, she was after men who had too much power. She probably identified with being a radical feminist. She was after their money and had sex with them to dethrone them on the way. Possibly bordered on a personality disorder considering she seemed to be entirely all-in to her 'disguises'.

The funniest thing was the way they all looked at you when you announced those lines. Perhaps you would work yourself out of the 'child' stage faster than you thought.

The BAU hit the precinct in much less time than I had expected and on the ground, running. You were immediately given things to do and you were on top of it all, every order. That was until the drawing of the Mafia leader AKA 'The Seductress' was pulled up and the whole BAU gasped at how she looked EXACTLY like you.

"Do I need my cuffs?" Morgan joked. You had covered your mouth in disbelief and the rest of the room was doing double-takes.

You laughed nervously, "I swear... that isn't me, but oh my god..." Morgan was laughing and Emily and JJ whispering and had confused smiles. Spencer Reid stood in the corner, his hand on his cheek, seemingly studying the photo. He looked statue-like, borderline godly.

"Can this be used to our advantage?" Hotch launched back into technical thinking, brow furrowed. You looked at him, mouth open, but immediately shut it out of professionalism. What was going on in his head?

Reid spoke up, "If we position her just right and at the right time in one of the hotspots for that group, we can possibly get her to somehow trick the other members into some sort of turn-in."

Her. Indirect. Did you do something wrong?

"Or a simple appearance could start gossip and a possible flock to where she was spotted. As long as people aren't seeing double or reaching to do so, she can play as The Seductress." Emily said, looking at you. "Are you up to try, (Y/L/N)?"

All eyes on you. Your first day turned to chaos. But this was your job and you would prove your place here. So you agreed and in a whisk of an afternoon, you were transformed into the mirror image of The Seductress while you were talked through the plan through a radio. Turned out, so prove a professional place, you needed to make yourself look ridiculously unprofessional.

Pinned up hair, dark cat eye makeup, a dress similar to hers that happened to be on hand. Long, deep red, with a long slit up the side and your tits were practically falling out of it, but the dress fit and they were secure, so you dealt with it. There was no other space for a gun other than the side of your thigh where The Seductress kept hers knife. Now, you had to get going, meaning you had to face the BAU in the getup.

When you walked out, Derek Morgan hooted and whistled and Emily gave him a look that said 'oh lord' like an annoyed sibling. You smiled a little and essentially just kept walking, figuring if you moved, it would give them less time to stare at your tits.

Turning the corner, you noticed that Dr.Spencer Reid was much redder than he had been earlier on the jet. So maybe he really did think you were pretty. You caught yourself smiling at the thought, but shook your head free of any ideas. Professional! No crushes on Spencer Reid!

You arrived near the scene, dropped off by Hotchner. "You know what to do. Reid will be going with you to the crateyard, he will also be nearby when you head in. If you see The Seductress, do not make the arrest. If you can, lure her."

You nodded. Wow, first time in the field with the BAU and you had the leading role. No pressure, no pressure, just... everyone depending on you. But the pressure came back when you realized you had heard right and Reid was going with you, alone. You had done really well with the job so far today, minus finding the tall doctor extremely attractive. He came to stand beside you and since he was much taller than you were, you were sure he could look right down your dress without even trying. Not like anyone had to try, but he had the upper hand.

You ached to cover yourself, but that was a major risk. The Seductress was confident, she wouldn't cover-up. You got into the tinted car with Reid, him in the driver's seat and you in the passenger's seat. Silence crept up, but he turned the engine over and headed east to where the mafia was to meet up.

"Some first day," you mumbled nervously.

Reid seemed to think you had said something to him and he talked to you directly for what seemed like the first time. "P-pardon?" He had a stutter when talking to you and to be honest it was cute but there was no time to crush!

"Oh, I was just remarking to myself on how this is my first day and I'm already... so... out there." You sighed and pat your knees. The jitters crept up, but so did butterflies. "Nervous, I'm nervous."

He looked over and swallowed hard, so hard it was audible. Was he fighting the same urge to be friendlier or was he just fighting the urge to look at your tits like a twelve-year-old boy would? Either way, you were glad he was with you. He smelled like books, leather, and cologne and it was oddly calming.

You reached the other side of the crateyard in a few more minutes and he handed you your gun, which you shoved into the holster on your thigh. "You're going without a vest so... k-keep focused," Spencer said- and it seemed like he had so many words jumbled on the tip of his tongue, but refused to say them. You thought he was afraid to annoy you, as you knew he liked to give lengthy explanations. "I'll be behind, uh- the crates."

You smiled at him and watched him look away, his curls falling in his face. God, he was so gorgeous. If this went wrong, you were glad you would go with that shy look of his in the front of your mind. He pulled on his vest and you put out a hand and stopped him. "If they see you with the vest at all, in any way, they'll know what's happening."

He nodded, keeping his eyes from yours as he pulled on a plain black jacket over the vest. For a genius, he seemed to have his mind a little fuzzy tonight. In the dark of the night, the only lights were flickering lamps on high-beamed poles. Your heart was beating hard as you waited for the signal to begin to move.

"G-good luck," Spencer's words fumbled out of his mouth and I looked at him for a moment where he looked right back at you. He chewed on his bottom lip, eyelids fluttering as you tried to look anywhere else and there it was- the radio signal. The tension that was there in that brief moment defused. You gave him a small smile before opening the car door and standing tall, in the aura of The Seductress.

Spencer waited until you were out between the crates to leave the car. You heard the door shut gently behind you, but his footsteps were silent. Much quicker than you thought, there was a gruff voice that didn't belong to Spencer. "My lady, may I say what an honour it is to have you join us this evening." You spun to face a man in a dark suit. You didn't have The Seductress's voice, so you nodded in the most gracious way you could.

"Bernard and Lolita are waiting inside the abandoned building for the small exchange as well as the rest of us, but Mamacita... you're being tailed by the FBI." He said, pointing to the crate that hid Dr. Spencer Reid. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "I'll go kill him for you!"

So flat out, he wanted to kill Spencer Reid, a rotting smile on his face as if it was an act of kindness. He knew Spencer was there, he saw... but you weren't busted? God, this man was stupid.

"No," you said, in a quiet, yet strong voice, grabbing the gruff man by the shoulder pad. "He is my kill."

The man grinned an evil grin and you did your best to smile evilly in return. You showed him your gun and he rubbed his palms together. "The gluck and Glock," he chuckled. "Can I watch?"

He thought you were going to fuck and kill Spencer. Your heart skipped a beat and you tried hard not to show it. Oh no... how to work your way out of this... Spencer couldn't help you. Or... could he?

You glared at the man, "No, but I know that his team is on the way. Get Bernard, Lolita, and anyone else in on the next killings from that abandoned building and run straight west. Do not stop. I will catch up to you once I'm finished with the agent here." You improvised the best you could and this stupid man bought it. Little did he know that the team was stationed Westbound.

"Got it," his face was dazed and malevolent. "But I'm not leaving until I know you've got this handled, my lady."

"You question my skill?" You shot back, still acting.

He looked scared for a moment, "No, not at all, I just... You're a lot shorter than I was expecting."

You stared daggers, "And you insult me?"

"Just wanted to know you had it covered... in case something is fishy here..." was he really catching on or was he confused and just running through the precautions?

Fuck, you had been so focused on the cover you forgot you were a profiler. This man was small-minded, probably brought into this ordeal through family ties. Since he was so stupid, he was trusted with less... hence why he was outside the building as the lookout, rather than in on the meeting.

Why he wouldn't leave- he was so incapable of proper interaction he had never had the chance to be with a woman. Watching was the only way he would ever see. He was stupid and he was stubborn. He was not going to leave until he saw the beginning.

The best thing would be to let him stay for proof. "Fine. But when I give you my look, you run and get everyone running straight West." You narrowed your eyebrows at him and he looked like he was going to sweat out of his skin. But... this meant...

You had a few seconds, you rushed over to behind the crate to where Spencer stood, his gun in hand. "W-what are you-" he questioned in a whisper-yell.

"He's onto me, I need you to go along with this- can I kiss you, Dr.Reid?" You whispered back. His eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed pink. Once again, being professional called for being unprofessional. You really didn't want to kiss him- at least not now, not like this. He wouldn't speak and the mafia man was coming. "Reid, if I don't do this, he won't flush the group West and we'll both be shot and if not shot, targeted by a mafia!"

"Y-yes!" he practically squeaked, his back to the crate he was hiding behind. This really was the only way- this other man would not be talked down, because he was taught to just shoot, rather than listen and understand. "I'm sorry if I-"

You cut him off by reaching up, grabbing the collar of his shirt and kissing him. It took him a moment, but he kissed back. You could feel the heat off of his cheeks. The first day on the job, you had embarrassed yourself, gotten dressed like a Mafia killer, played the part, and now you were kissing Dr.Spencer Reid in a crateyard... and he was surprisingly not a bad kisser. He was a little sloppy the first few seconds but moments later, he figured it out. His one hand went on your jaw, the other on your waist, both of them shaking. You could tell that the shaking wasn't because the man watching you both right now had a gun, it was you.

You were making out with him, hard. Your body was pressed to his tightly against the crate and Spencer was holding you there. Your hands were still gripping his shirt. Messy altogether but your lips met in every perfect way. It was good, but for work. This was when you knew to stop- you had convinced the other man. You pulled away, turned your head and mouthed to the mafia man, 'GO' and he ran.

Now things would be extremely awkward. You pushed yourself away from Spencer whose hands stayed on your waist and face until you were entirely out of his reach. You laughed anxiously and he stood there, hands behind his back. That was... that was wow, but... it was for the case. For the case.

It was time to get moving. Spencer knew it, you knew it. The real Seductress was on her way. You turned your head over your shoulder and he was moving slowly, head down. You fought off a small smile. He was entirely red, gun still held loosely in his hand.

You turned your head and were met by a sharp blow to the face. Both of you had let your guard down. Stupid.

"I don't like impostors," said the female voice that was the source of the blow. Hell, it was her. Spencer clocked his gun into place and you turned, elbowing The Seductress in the chest. She returned with another hard blow that you ducked, spinning around her and kicking the back of her leg. She recovered quickly and shot up, punching you in the stomach. You lost your breath for a second and she took the opportunity to punch you in the jaw and pull a knife.

"Put the knife down!" Spencer called. His voice was stronger facing a woman with a sharp knife than it was when talking to you alone. "I know who you are, you want what's right for women, correct?"

The Seductress narrowed her eyes at him like her next meal, leaving you on the ground. Would Spencer shoot if she threw that knife? Odd she didn't have a gun on her. She must have been relying on the others for more protection. You stood up quietly, watching her slowly advance on Spencer. He had your lipstick smeared over his lips, he looked rough, but he held his gun out in front of him and had the other hand up to reason with her. "Men like you think yourselves above women. You, FBI, you think yourself better than men and women alike because you're the authority. Tell me, how do you like your women, Agent?"

He gulped, eyes flickering to you. You pulled out your gun. "I think... I think I'm a weak man and I'm no better than anyone. I don't deserve women." Spencer said, looking at the evil lady. In person, she looked a lot less like you.

"Lies. It's the instinct of men to feel superior to women. You'll have a lot less instinct when you're dead!" She snarled, lunging at him with her blade out. You pulled the trigger, she fell to the ground. Not dead, but wounded to pass out. Spencer narrowly jumped out of her way, watching her knife clatter to the ground.

You looked up at Spencer, bewildered. You had done it. You saved the case, took down a murderous mafia boss. It was only when Spencer pointed at your face and said, "Y-you're bleeding, (Y/N), are you okay?"- that you noticed your cut lip and the blood pouring from your forehead. But you also noticed he called you by your first name.

He reached a hand forward but retracted it when you winced from the sudden pain. Adrenaline took the pain away temporarily, you supposed. There were still things to be done. Spencer called for backup and a medic and watched as you cuffed the woman. She wasn't going to die, but she did need help.

Once medics arrived, Spencer drove you both back to the Westward situation, where ten arrests had been made. You were in a state of haze, so how Spencer's jacket got around your shoulders was a mystery. When you stepped out of the car, you were greeted by the rest of the agents.

"Are you okay?!" Prentiss was the first to greet you both. She grabbed you by the shoulders and looked at the nearly-dried blood on your skin. "We got worried when you didn't follow soon after, you got her?"

"Yeah," you smiled tiredly.

She grinned back. "Fill us in on the details on the way back, okay? Let's get you two cleaned up."

But Derek Morgan found Spencer, "Hey pretty-boy, is that royal rouge you've got on your lips there?" he teased. Spencer panicked and looked into the mirror of the nearest car, seeing that he did in fact have your lipstick on his mouth. He tried to wipe it off with his wrist, but it still stained. You wiped your own lip with your thumb and Derek caught you. "Okay, Miss Newbie, I see you."

Your eyes widened and Emily raised her eyebrows at you, a teasing smile on her lips. "It was to keep my cover. It's what sent those guys your way, one of them has serious sexual issues." You made sure they knew it- to save yourself and to save Spencer. Derek Morgan spun away with a huge knowing grin, back to Hotchner who was conversing with the Chief of Police. Emily pulled you away to the other medics and you shot Spencer a smile as you went.

He smiled back, still wiping off his mouth.

-tags

@ellyhotchner @softhairedhotch <3

[stunudo]

Times Up: A Criminal Minds Fan Fiction

Requested by: @emilyfuckingprentiss

Inspiration: Halsey’s Now or Never

Featuring: Emily Prentiss x Reader  Setting: Season 5  Rating: Teen

A/N: This is my first requested piece, I am so honored to be asked. This is an awesome idea. I hope I did the request justice. I don’t own the images, characters or lyrics xoxo Stu

Your name: submit What is this?

I'm turnin' off the light right now I'm callin' it a night now Wishin' you were 'round with me But you're in a different town than me

You held the phone to your ear, counting the unanswered rings. One, you turn towards the fridge. Two, you turn towards the island. Three, you give up and lean against the island in frustration. A familiar, yet robotic voice answers, “This is Agent Prentiss with the BAU, please leave a message.” You exhale and hang up, you were not leaving her another message. If she cared, she would have answered the damn phone. You knew you were getting nervous and edgy, but it was hard to turn off those feelings.

Tossing your cell on the side table, you sit down on your couch with the wine you had forgotten about. You lose yourself in the censored for television version of a random eighties teen movie. After another glass of wine, you make your way to the bedroom. Alone, you slip into the lonely bed to pass out in your shared apartment.

You woke to the sound of metal working the lock. You sit straight up, reaching into the nightstand for your gun. The alarm clock a blatant red glow of 3:42am. On high alert, you quietly get out of bed and hide behind your door. Suddenly the lock released, whoever was on the other side of the main door now had full access to your home. Your mind racing with possibilities, old collars, current suspects, hired hits, or maybe just a random burglar.

Your training was not going to let this punk get away with it. You slip into the hall, flush with the blindside of the wall. You check all access points before slipping behind the island in the kitchen, crouched with your gun in hand. The intruder’s heavy footfalls echoing in the unlit space. You dove for their knees, scrambling for control. You sat upon the assailant with your gun pointed in their face. “Freeze!”

You were greeted with a matching Glock in your face. Your eyes adjusted to the dimness surrounding you. Laying below you was your girlfriend, Emily Prentiss, whose chest was heaving in anticipation. “What the hell, Y/L/N!” She fumed up at you, instinctively using your last name as you had caught her off guard.

You disengaged your weapon, sliding to one side to release her from your thighs. “Christ, Em, I didn’t know you would be home tonight.” You panted, catching your breath. 

She slowly got to her feet and holstered her gun. She grabbed your hand to help you up, intertwining her fingers with yours as you stand. “Surprise?” She smiled simply, nuzzling your jawline with her nose. You slid your gun in the waistband of your pajama bottoms, freeing your arms to grab her in a bear hug, jostling her strong, yet slender frame. “Uh, I am so glad to see you!” You plant a dramatic kiss on her cheek. “Please tell me Hotch gave you the day off?”

Her laugh pierced the quiet night, “Yes, Boss, I got the day off after working seven straight. Don’t worry, phone is off and staying off until Wednesday.” She slips her hands around your back, enveloping your ass in her overlapping palms. Your relief soothes your anxious body, you hide your face in her neck, letting her scent wash over you. Her dark hair brushing against your cheek. The agitation from earlier quickly became a distant memory; now that your love was home.

I don't wanna fight right now Know you always right, Now I know I need you 'round with me But nobody waitin' 'round with me Been through the ups Yeah, the ups and the downs with me

The shadows cast by the setting sun, stretched across the parking lot. You pulled into your assigned spot, letting the car idle as the bass from the house music stomped onward. You bobbed your head to the music, excited for a quiet night at home. You had run your team hard in their field training exercises that day, your body still pumping from the last of the adrenaline. The song ended so you killed the ignition. You grab your gym bag and your keys, beeping the car locked.

Emily was already inside when you opened the door. She was chopping onions and garlic on the carving block, violently. She glanced up as you set your keys in the dish by the door, her eyes boring into you.

“Babe?” You call out to her, “What’s the matter?”

Emily’s dark eyes look to the ceiling, she takes a few breaths before answering. “Four.” Emily spat at you. “Four fucking messages from the other night, Y/L/N.”

“I didn’t know you were already heading home, Emily.” You defended coolly.

“I get that,” She returned to her food preparations. “Then you leave two messages, at most, Y/N. It’s like your my kid, do I need to teach you phone etiquette?” She mumbled the last line under her breath.

“Hey!” You snap back at her, “I get that you had a crappy day, but don’t get mad at me because you need someone to channel your anger at, Emily. I felt extremely ignored with that last case, so I was trying to get your attention.” You sit down across from her in the stool at the island. “Christ, maybe I am your fucking kid, but that makes you self-involved, Ambassador Prentiss!”

Emily dropped her knife against the granite counter top. She kept her eyes down, placing her palms around the cutting board. You watched her, waiting for the assault. She laughed mirthlessly at the kitchen tiles. She finally stood, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t have the luxury of being home every night, Y/N.” Emily volleyed calmly. “Both of us are FBI agents, that is what makes this,” She gestured between you both, “work. You’re supposed to get the job!”

You nodded, letting the anger smother inside you. “Funny that, I thought we worked because we care about each other, Emily.” You spiked your heart at her feet, dejectedly. You get up and walk to the back office, closing the door gently behind you.

It has been an hour after cooling off by distracting yourself with some Heroes of the Storm. You decided it was time to make peace with Crabby Emily. Once you opened the door, the smells of her decadent meal called to you. There on the floor a simple tray contained stuffed shells, sausage and a relish like side. Your butt-hurtness melted away and you grabbed the peace offering off the bare floorboards.

She was still eating at the island, she remained quiet as you got situated on the stool. “This smells amazing, thank you.” You smile gently, sliding your hand across the divide. She self consciously rolls her eyes at your compliment and sets down her wine glass. She takes your hand, her fingers are cool. She gently plays with your fingers while you use your fork to cut into your meal.

“Y/N, you know I don’t think you are a child, right?” Emily brokered peace. You nod, your mouth full. She smiles with no teeth, “And you know I am sorry for biting your head off when you walked in the door.” Your mouth was no longer full, but you still nod, watching her dark eyes intently. “It’s Hotch, he hasn’t been the same since Haley, you know that. Plus Reid is being kind of a baby, even without the crutches. But that doesn’t matter now, I will deal with the boys tomorrow. So, how was your day?” She changes the subject and stands to clear her place.

“Good, had everyone run evasion and the house assault today. Miller is still nursing his right knee though, should flag him for some physical therapy. Gomez is really stepping it up, kind of proud of her.” You have a great job running new and recuperating agents through tactical and physical training. Each month or two, you get a new group. Unlike Emily, who works on a team of elite profilers that travels the country consulting on and solving cases. She worked extremely hard to get on the BAU, a team that only has an opening every few years.

“Hey, babe?” You ask softly as she loads the dishwasher. “I’m sorry I played the low blow card before. I know you’re not you’re mother, all right?” You wait for a response. She turns and nods, mirroring your stoic responses. You slip out of the chair and slide your arms around her from behind. As you nuzzle her neck, you squeeze her against you. Emily, fits just so in your arms, the two of you compliment each other. She drops her head onto your shoulder and lets you rock her gently. This is the good stuff.

The next morning you drive Emily to headquarters, it was your paperwork day and she hadn’t been called out on a case, yet. She laughs at you as you dance yourself awake with earsplitting music. She usually drives alone and enjoys the quiet before she gets her second cup of coffee down. You glide into her usual spot and jump out of the car, opening her door for her. You try to be chivalrous with your girl, you knew she deserved every gesture.

Emily grabs her things out of the trunk, while you sneak a pinch of her ass. She huffs at you, nonchalantly thwacking you with her bulky bags.

“Good morning, agents!” Derek Morgan had pulled into a spot three spaces down. His ivory teeth flashing his signature grin.

“Hey-o, Derek!” You call, holding up your hand in a short wave. Derek was a good friend to both you and Emily, considering he had introduced you to her after she started with the BAU. Derek was always willing to help with your team’s exercises or help filter recruits.

“Now what brings not one, but both of these beautiful ladies into headquarters?” Derek charmed, throwing his arms around both of your shoulders.

“The worst thing ever.” You tease dramatically.

“Reid in a Speedo?” Derek teased. You cannot hold back your guffaw.

Emily is shaking her head. “Thanks, Morgan,” she complained, “now I get to start the day with that visual. Which is almost as bad as Y/L/N’s monthly paperwork frenzy.”

“Oooooh, cannot say that I envy you, girl!” Derek shook his head, opening the door to the main floor at FBI headquarters. You let Emily in first, then you follow, grabbing your credentials for the secure entrance.

“Hey, Morgan, before you head up I want to touch base on something.” You call over as you pass through different security lines. He nods over, slightly concerned. You wink at Emily, as she holsters her weapon and turns towards the elevators. She flirtatiously smirks over her shoulder at you, gets you every time. You dramatically grab your heart, like she is breaking it by walking away.

Derek chuckles, “So what you need this time, Y/L/N?”

Two days in a row the BAU was not out on a case, it was your favorite kind of mini-miracle. You had finished up with your mountain of assessments and cataloguing, until next month. You straighten up your neglected desk and text Emily to see if she is ready to call it a day.

‘Working on a consult w/ Reid 30 mins?’ You reply with a simple emoji. You head up to the BAU’s floor anyway, what a perfect time to check in with Hotch.

You slip into the bullpen, unannounced and luckily unnoticed. You knock on the unit chief’s office door. “Come in,” barked a stern Aaron Hotchner. “Y/L/N? What brings you in today?” He rose, and nearly smiled at you. You shook his offered hand firmly and sat opposite him.

“Well, Hotch, I have a favor to ask.” You begin. “I already have Morgan on board, but I really need you to swing it.”

“What is this about?” His dark brows furrowed in speculation. “Is everything alright with Prentiss?”

“Well, yes, sir,” You nod, excessively. You didn’t think you would be this nervous talking to Emily’s boss about this. “You see, I want to surprise her, maybe after your next case?”

“That could be a possibility, but we have no way of knowing times or dates,” Hotch pointed out, “you know that, Y/L/N.”

“I do, sir, definitely,” You nod again, “I just need a couple hours heads up, just a text once you board.”

“I think we can arrange that.” Hotch smirked at your nervous hands. “How long have you been planning to ask her?”

That smug bastard just profiled your surprise proposal out of you. Your face fell in shock. Damn it. Smiling ruefully, “About a month, I actually have my grandmother’s ring, so I didn’t have to save up.”

He smiled at you, eyes slightly glazed, “It took me a year to save up for Haley’s ring. I’m glad you don’t have to waste the time I did.” He stood to shake your hand, “Good luck, Agent.”

You smile nervously, shaking his hand, “Thanks sir, now just act like I am grilling you on your recovery physical therapy?”

Spencer invited you and Emily out for dinner, once they had finished their consult for the Detroit field office. You were itching to get home and slide that pantsuit off of her, but you held it in. So thirty minutes later, the three of you were sitting down to a Hibachi table. Spencer was still maneuvering around on a cane.

“So, when do the real doctors think you’ll be back to normal?” You ask Reid, tapping his cane with the toe of your shoe. He scrunches his mouth in annoyance at you. Looking back to the grill’s attendant he replies, “I have another month of physical therapy, but the limp is getting better.”

“I am really impressed, Spencer,” You admit, “Staying clean through all of this is a huge accomplishment.” He glances at your honest face, debating if he should accept the compliment after you insulted his degrees.

“Thank you, Y/L/N.” Spencer sighed. “Each day is another hurtle, right?”

“That’s right!” You giggle as he remembered one of your little mantras from past training exercises. “Oh, we will get you ready for action soon enough.”

“Can’t wait.” Spencer’s eyes blinked with his sarcasm.

  Now I gotta draw a line Baby, I done, done enough talking Need to know that you're mine Baby, we done, done enough talking Gotta be right now, right now

The meal went down smoothly with a couple of drinks. Spencer had a tea and began regaling you with all the historical skirmishes that had occurred because of the simple drink. Driving Reid home, you purposely crank the music so the doctor doesn’t kill the warm fuzzies from dinner.

You switch to a subtler playlist for the drive home. As you approach the turn off, you make a surprise left. Emily is lost in contemplation, she doesn’t register where you brought her until you stop. The cool night air stirs through the trees in the abandoned park. You reach down and slide your seat back as far as it will go.

Startled, Emily’s head snaps up and takes in the surrounding darkness. “Way to be creepy, Boss.” Her voice slightly amused.

“Taking women in to the woods in winter is my specialty.” You tease, slipping your hand below Emily’s seat, easing her all the way back. Your hand trails up her leg, you begin to hum along with the song. You smirk at Emily, and she pulls you by the coat front. You ungracefully crawl out of your seat and into her lap, kneeling around her thighs. Her red lips trace over your jaw, and you let go.

Angling the seat back, you are as close to laying atop her as you can get in your tiny coupe. Emily laughs at the awkwardness, “Oh man, I haven’t done this since high school.”

“Mmmm,” You sigh, “I wish I was doing this in high school.” And her shirt was un-tucked and unbuttoned in a blur. The make out session in the car was a moment of impromptu delight. You rode and teased each other, but there was no good angle to complete the deed. The heat from your bodies filled the small space, you gasp as you try to return to the driver’s seat, in the process break your cup holder. Emily’s trumpet of laughter would have woken the dead.

“Ha ha, Em”, You mock, embarrassed. “Alright, let’s get out of here. Don’t we have a bed for this anyways?”

I want you to hold me down, down, down, down, down, down Down forever, hey, hey, hey Said you know I wanna keep you around 'Round forever, hey, hey, hey I want you to love me now, now, now, now, now, now

It had been another long case for Emily’s unit. You waited each night for updates, she called every time, exhausted. As much as you hated her gone, it gave you time to plan and plot with the peripheral members of the BAU. Also, Penelope, you wouldn’t have known where to start with out the tech goddess herself.

It was a Thursday, in the middle of the afternoon when Hotch texted you.

‘Boarding now, you’ve got three hours, Y/L/N.’

You checked in with your team, letting them know that a “family thing” had come up. You quickly showered and headed over to headquarters for the finishing touches. Garcia was bouncing when you got there, “Y/L/N, please let me do your hair!”

You side-eyed the red-headed deviant. “Uh, what’s wrong with my hair?” Grinning, you continue, “Don’t you have some tech-magic to work while I change?”

“Oh, phewy, seriously though, can I do your hair for the wedding?” Garcia whined.

“Penelope if you jinx me, so help me, I will make you pass physical training every quarter!” Your drill sergeant voice slipping in at the end. Garcia sighed and flitted away to her real tasks. Time was moving in bursts of speed and slow motion. You triple checked the ring box was in your pocket. One more text from Hotch:

“We landed, show time.”

The ten minutes you waited for Emily Prentiss to enter the BAU office felt like a homage to the years you had waited for her to enter your life. You were an active, yet confused kid. Growing up, no one told you, people like you could have this, the happily-ever-after. You knew Emily had known pain too, that is why you respected her so much. She was kind, despite the neglect and the constant politics of her childhood. She was also strong, emotionally and physically. When Derek introduced the new member of his team that Saturday morning, your heart just coasted away from you. After months of friendship, you admitted your feelings for her at a jazz club after a few too many Tom Collins. She surprised you by kissing you before you finished your confession.

The elevator door rang, opening in the hall. Emily walked off, asking if anyone wanted to grab dinner. But no one was following her, the door had swiftly closed.  She turned back to the office, noticing the lights were out. As she entered the double wide doors, a spotlight narrowed down on her.

“Okay, what is going on here?!” Emily protested to anyone.

Across the room another spot found you on the balcony, in full dress blues. Slowly, the gentle voice of Billie Holiday poured through the speakers. You walk in time with the old record, making your way to your lover. Finally, you get to her, her big brown eyes taking you all in, equal parts amazed and alarmed. You reach up to close her open jaw with your gloved hand.

“What do you say, Em?” You shrug, “Would you marry me?” You rummage in your pocket and unhinge the old box. You kneel before her in anticipation. She gasps.

Yeah, draw the line up Don't take no more time up, yeah Make your mind up I need you to make your mind up, yeah Draw the line up Don't take no more time up, yeah Baby, you gotta decide something Let me know

Now or Never

@emilyfuckingprentiss @emilyprentissdaily @criminal-minds-fanfiction