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A Safe Distance - Chapter 1

Not my gif.

Thank you for all the responses, I genuinely did not anticipate so many of you to interact! So here is chapter one. This wont be a super long fic, I'm looking at 6 chapters currently. Unfortunately there won't be an upload schedule as I work full time :)

I hope you all enjoy and appreciate all feedback!

Warnings: 18+

All mistakes are my own.

Going over Emily's head, Bailey hired a new profiler for he team. Certain you were sent to dig up dirt to have her fired, Emily made no effort with you in the hopes you would quit. But what she hadn't anticipated was the growing sparks between you.

The Beginning

A restless air had settled in the conference room, the team sharing looks of equal concern after being called into an impromptu meeting almost 30 minutes ago.

‘God, I can’t wait to get home and spend some time with my girl’, Luke smiled to himself, thinking about curling up in bed with Roxy and a cold beer. ‘Me too. I always seem to miss the boys more when we're stuck here all day’. JJ is sporting a matching smile, her eyes slightly dazed from a day dedicated to paperwork.

‘So no drinks at O’keefe’s?’ The team turned to Garcia with a guilty look. ‘Fine! But you all owe me a glorious, fantastical night of debauchery, alright?’ Her eyes narrowed as she pointed an accusatory finger at them all. The team grunted their agreements, placating her, each dragging their focus back to their desks to finish up the last bits of paperwork for the day.

Only 10 minutes had passed when Prentiss stuck her head out of her office door with a disappointed look. ‘Everyone, conference room in five, Deputy Director Bailey has an update for us’.

‘Here’s hoping it’s an update on his upcoming early retirement’, the team sniggered at Tara’s comment, dragging themselves from their desks to sit at the round table.

‘Maybe he’s going to apologise for being such a fu-’ the word refused to pass Penelope’s lips.

'Fuc- No, a Fu-, Jerk-wad’. She sulked at her inability to cuss, garnering various chuckles from the team whilst miraculously easing the building tension. They each settled in their respective seats, all taking turns checking the time.

‘So is he coming or?’ Emily gave Luke a withering look. ‘He’s coming out the elevators now, look’. Six curious heads turned to see said Deputy Director making his way up the ramp, followed by you with a mixture of nerves and curiosity etched onto your face. Emily couldn’t keep her eyes off of you. It was clear you were a junior agent, possibly a recent graduate, if the way you looked at the bullpen with awe was anything to go by.

The fit of your tailored suit easily distracted her, leading her mind to wonder just exactly what you looked like underneath. Your hair flowed gently behind you, the light making it shine and creating a halo effect. Her breath caught in her throat when you locked eyes. There was a glint of something she couldn't quite decipher that left her wanting more.

‘Sorry to keep you waiting. It took us longer to finish up than I expected.’

‘Allow me to introduce you to the newest member of your team-’

Prentiss rose from her seat, hands leaning against the table. ‘Hold on, as Section Chief, I have full authority over staffing. You have no right coming in here and dropping some new agent on me’. She promptly lost her curiosity and felt irritation instead. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips and you swiftly dropped your gaze. Clearing your throat, you schooled your features. The glare she was directing at Bailey glided over to your equally intense gaze.

‘I appreciate this is coming in over your head, Section Chief Prentiss, but I can assure you I’m more than ready for the job. From what I’ve heard, this team is drowning, and I can help with that.’ You held Emily’s gaze as her eyes narrowed. You didn’t need to look at the rest of the team to know they were all giving you a similar look of concern for talking back.

‘I’m sorry, but who are you exactly?’ JJ asked, her head tilting slightly as if it would give her a better idea of you.

‘This is-’

‘SSA Y/N Dawson, it’s an honour to meet you all’. You immediately cut off Bailey, realising that he was the target of the initial hostility and you were an unfortunate casualty.

‘Oh, I know you! You graduated top of the academy a few years back, right? The youngest agent in the history of the FBI!’ Garcia was clapping and grinning at you.

‘Spence was furious that someone had taken his title.’

You couldn’t help the genuine smile that had made its way onto your face. Penelope Garcia was infectious. The blonde gushed over your recent accomplishments when Emily cleared her throat. ‘As impressive as that sounds, Agent Dawson, we aren’t currently interested in adding a new member to the team with our current case.’

‘Emily...’ Rossi could already tell where this was going, giving the woman a look.

‘What you’re interested in, Prentiss, has no say on this matter.’ You tensed at Bailey's words, not liking the implications.

‘SSA Dawson is part of this team, effective immediately. I will see you all in the morning.’

Your eyes followed Bailey out of the room, all to avoid the cold scrutiny of one Emily Prentiss.

That was six months ago. The first four weeks had been awkward, with Emily making her disdain towards you obvious. Penelope was the first to invite you into the fold, followed by Luke, Tara, JJ, and even Rossi. However, Emily Prentiss remained elusive to you, no matter how hard you tried.

Regardless of the situation, the silver-haired woman found some way to berate and belittle you. She questioned every decision you made and shut down all your theories, refusing to acknowledge when you were right. Hours were spent racking your brain trying to figure out what you could've done to upset the woman, but you came up short. Emily Prentiss hated you, and the worst part?

You were infatuated.

In the beginning, her icy stares kept you on edge, terrified even. But now? Now, they kept you on edge for all the wrong reasons. Every heated staring contest during one of your many disagreements sent a heat straight to your core. Your breaths became gasps, and your heart would hammer against its cage. The brush of her arm as she stormed by had shivers running up your spine. And today the unthinkable happened when she elected to lean over your shoulder to review your work. Had you been standing, your legs surely would've given out. One arm rested on the back of your chair and the other on the desk, effectively caging you in. You could feel the heat rolling off her, the soft tickle of her breath against your cheek. It took every ounce of self-control to keep your eyes focused on the screen instead of the captivating woman beside you. ‘How is it you've been here six months and you still can’t do your paperwork properly?’ Emily is shaking her head and pulling away with a tut. The smell of perfume still lingers around your desk 40 minutes later, you feel ashamed at the way you're greedily taking it in. Drawing another guilty breath is how Luke finds you with an excitable, bouncing blonde beside him.

‘You finished up yet? We’re all heading out for a drink.’

Luke wiggles his eyebrows at you with a sly grin, meaning this night could only end in a blaze of glory. Assuming glory actually meant shame, embarrassment, poor decisions and one hell of a hangover.

‘Uh well, I’m not-’ Your eyes drifted up to Emily’s office.

‘She’s not coming, now come on Y/N! You’ve been missing from team night for too long now.’ There seemed to be an unspoken rule between you and Prentiss that only one of you would attend team nights or girl's night to avoid the inevitable bickering that ruined every social situation. It looked like tonight was finally your turn.

Garcia was already dragging you out of your seat, reminding you that you don’t actually get a say. But maybe it would be nice to get out and let off some steam without a certain set of eyes watching you.

The three of you met with JJ, Tara and Rossi in the elevator, quick to engage in idle chatter until you reached your final destination. O’Keefe’s.

It only took the team two hours and three rounds to get you talking about the Emily situation, as they had dubbed it. ‘I just don’t understand what I’ve done!’

‘I work hard, I get my paperwork done on time, and as far as I’m aware, I’m pretty easy on the eyes’. There was no stopping the arrogant smirk that followed your remark, just as there was no stopping the team from laughing at you.

Tara nudged your shoulder with hers. ‘I’m sure she’ll warm up to you, eventually. Em just has a hard time trusting new people.’

The team hummed in agreement, offering you sympathetic smiles. ‘Eventually? C’mon Tara, I’ve been here six months and she can barely make eye contact with me.’

‘We don’t have to be friends, but she could at least pretend to like me’. Your usual confidence slipped away as you downed the remains of your beer.

'I think you're totally misreading it.'

'There's no misreading six months of her crappy attitude Luke, she hates me.'

He tilted his head in thought before speaking again. 'I think she likes you. She's just not sure how to go about it after being mean to you for so long.'

'I hate to admit but I think the kid's right.'

Rossi tipped back the last of his whiskey. 'Emily doesn't back down or apologise. Ever. She worries about you in the field even though she doesn't show it.'

'Every time she snaps at you, she gets this look on her face although I haven't quite figured out what it means,' He admits.

The team glances between you and Rossi, trying to figure out where they missed these clues. 'Make the first move. Show her it's possible to be friends'. You nod slowly before standing.

'Next round is on me. Same again?'

Back at the bureau...

Emily dropped her head into her hands, sighing. Her fingers threaded through her already tangled silver curls. The bullpen was dark and quiet, only illuminated by the lights emanating from her office. She hadn't missed the way your eyes had glanced up at her office when Penelope and Luke dragged you out only an hour ago. It almost made her smile until she realised she had no right.

Six months ago, Douglas Bailey had planted you on the team. Six months ago, she made the choice to drive you out. In the event her hunch was right and Bailey had brought you in to gather information to get her fired, she had taken every precaution.

Every case the team had worked on since you joined the team had been handpicked. Every decision Emily had made during those cases was well thought out to avoid the threat of losing her job. Who knew what information you were feeding back to him. And under no circumstances was Emily Prentiss going to allow Douglas Bailey to push her out of the BAU.

So Emily's plan was to keep you at a safe distance. Close enough to monitor but not so close to develop any kind of relationship.

However, there were two things she failed to account for.

The first being Penelope Garcia and her overwhelming ability to make everyone welcome. And once Garcia welcomed you into the fold, the rest of the team was quick to follow. You had only been with the BAU 3 weeks when she invited you to your first girl's night. Of course, you had politely declined, but Penelope wouldn't take no for an answer.

That's how Emily found herself watching you as a heat danced its way up her neck, settling on her face, leaving her flushed and yearning as you danced in between Tara and JJ. Darkened eyes tracked the way your hips swayed sensually and with purpose, followed by you throwing your head back with the most intoxicating laugh Emily had ever heard. She couldn't have anticipated the growing heat between her legs when your eyes had caught hers. The four bottles of wine you had all shared clearly boosted your confidence and removed all rational thinking. You turned to Emily with a smirk and winked before offering out your hand for her to join the three of you.

Thank god Garcia has a strange obsession with fairy lights. Emily's cheeks were burning under the dim lighting, grateful for Penelope and her unbridled hatred towards the big-light as she calls it.

Only 80% certain you couldn't see the effect your actions had, Emily excused herself and rushed to the bathroom. Away from your outstretched hand.

The second thing she failed to account for was her overwhelming attraction to you.

Locking the door behind her, she gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles nearly white. She glared at herself through the mirror. 'Get a grip, Prentiss'.

Exhaling slowly, Emily released her hold and moved to splash her face with some cold water. The flush on her face gradually faded away, and Emily unlocked the door to return to her nightmare. However, as she pulled the door open, you came stumbling in, beaming with excitement.

'Emily! Where did you go? We looked everywhere for you!' Your words came out slow and long, but your grin never left. The unit chief had to stop herself from mirroring you, instead opting to scowl. 'I was just using the bathroom. I wasn't aware I needed your permission.'

She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth, more so when the grin fell from your face. 'Right, sorry, I'll just get out of your way then...' Your eyes dulled and you pulled your lips into a tight line, turning quickly and shuffling back to the others.

Emily convinced herself that night there was no sense in pursuing any sort of relationship with you. The chances of you being on the Deputy Director's roll call were too high. But that didn't mean her eyes didn't linger on you for longer than necessary. Or that she went out of the way to brush by you just to feel close. Despite the bickering, she'd partner you together just to have time with you.

She released a soft groan, detangling her hands from her hair. As she glanced around her office, Emily found her eyes being pulled to your desk. Cluttered but homely, it held numerous framed photos of family she hadn't learnt the names of and random knick knacks you had collected on cases that had taken the team out of state. She didn't stop the fond smile that spread across her face, allowing herself this moment.

It didn't last long.

Her phone lit up with an accompanying ding.

Penelope Garcia sent an image to the group chat.

Swiping her phone open, her eyes landed on the new image. It seems Garcia has wrangled a stranger into taking a group photo for the team. Crammed into a booth with Penelope at one end, Alvez behind with an arm around her shoulder. Rossi and JJ were in the middle of the booth leaning into each other. Her eyes finally settled on you, or rather Tara's arms coming around your shoulders, hands settling on your clavicle. But what had her jumping out of her seat was the smile on your face as Tara's lips found your cheek.

Emily wasted no time putting on her coat, grabbing her bag, and heading to the elevator. Her stride was determined and before she knew it, she was in her car and heading to O'Keefes.

The last thing you expected when you returned to the table was Emily Prentiss in your seat, yet here she was. 'Y/N, look who stopped being a grouch and actually joined us for team night!' Garcia was practically vibrating with excitement. She couldn't remember the last time the entire team was together. Someone was always missing.

You gently placed the drinks on the table, trying to push the empty glasses and bottles aside to make space. 'What are you drinking? I would've got one for you if I'd known.' You really tried to sound casual, but there was no mistaking the nerves in your voice.

Emily hesitated, acutely aware of the distance growing between the two of you. What was she thinking coming here? All she remembers is Tara's lips on your cheek and the way your face had lit up. She looked up at you, opening her mouth, then closing it again. 'She'll have the same as me, kid.' Rossi offered you a wink whilst lifting his own drink to his lips.

Scurrying back to the bar, you ordered another whiskey neat. You felt the telltale signs of your nerves creeping up your spine, accompanied by a hole that was being burnt into your back. Collecting Emily's drink from the bartender, you turned to find her gaze settled on you.

Walking back to join them, you couldn't help the heat rising to your cheeks as she raked her eyes up and down your body. She'd never looked at you like that before, right? As you placed her drink down, you realised you were now out of a seat and a frown quickly settled on your face. Tara noticed your predicament first and quickly scooted further into the booth, dragging Emily with her. 'Can you squeeze in on the end, Dawson?'

It was almost comical the way your eyes bugged out of your head, and if looks could kill, Tara would be face down in the pile of peanut shells on the table. Faltering temporarily, you thought about what Rossi and Luke had said earlier. Taking a breath and nodding inwardly, you slid into the seat beside Emily.

The older woman zeroed in on the way your thigh pressed against hers, relishing in the heat and the way your scent invaded her senses. Coming here was a terrible idea. You'd taken off your blazer, leaving you in a white vest that showcased your toned arms and lean frame. All Emily would have to do is lift your top slightly to see the defined lines on your stomach. The thought of tracing her fingers down your chest and abdomen has her pressing her thighs together. The way she would make you squirm under her touch, begging to be touched, begging for a release. And she'd give it to you.

Over and over again.

too personal | emily prentiss

part of my pride month celebration! (week 1)

kind of a weird start to a pride month celebration considering this is angsty and the subject matter is dark. either way, here’s my first fic of the month! it’s still very gay and r is in love w emily so hopefully that makes up everything else lmao.

(oneshot)

tw: homophobia, angst, some fluff, cannon level violence/talk of violence, sexual assault is mentioned, queer women are being targeted by the unsubs

“drew bishop, thirty-four. he was caught last night fleeing the crime scene of our twenty-three and twenty-two year old victim’s home.” you held it together for as long as you could, bringing the images up on the screen.

“he and an unknown partner are believed to be responsible for four other murders in washington over the past four months. bailey brought the case directly to us, he thinks we can get it solved quickly and quietly.” emily added, glancing down at the file for a moment.

“each of their victims had one thing in common, all of them were female presenting, queer couples.” you mumbled out, taking a seat at the table with the rest of the team.

everyone knew about the relationship you and emily had. it wasn’t a secret and they were all extremely supportive and happy for the both of you.

of course, bailey was in the dark about it so he had no idea just how personal this case would be for the both of you.

the team went over the rest of the case details but you didn’t pay much attention, trying to focus on the way emily was holding your hand under the table, the soothing motion of her thumb rubbing your skin.

“age doesn’t seem to matter, the first couple were in their fourties’ and the most recent, in their twenties.” rossi didn’t look up from the page he was focused on, eyes scanning for any information that could help.

“maybe the unsub we have in custody will cooperate enough to give us something. dave, tara i want you on the ground, talk to friends and family. see if the most recent victims have any connection to the previous ones.” emily took a deep breath, you could tell the case was already getting to her.

“jj, luke, check with local PD, see if they have any old case files that match the four linked to bishop. his partner could be older, more experienced. maybe the partnership is new and paul got sloppy.”

“on it.” jj gave her a small smile and then nodded to luke in understanding.

“garcia, y/n, you’re with me. i’ll interrogate the unsub, i want the both of you nearby to fact check what he tells me and see if we can get any dirt to use against him.” she knew you wanted to say something, so before you could open your mouth she spoke up again.

“wheels up in thirty.” she closed the case file and headed for the door, beelining for her office.

everyone went to grab their go bags and prepare for the flight but you stayed seated.

penelope placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“if you need to sit this one out, we all understand. we’ve all had to at some point.” she gave you a little smile and you nodded.

“if it gets to be too much, i’ll consider it.” you frowned, standing up and pulling your friend into a hug.

“okay.” she headed out and you did the same.

you found yourself in front of your girlfriends office door, not even knocking before entering.

as soon as the door was closed again and you walked towards her, she had you in her arms.

your arms circled around her waist, burying your face in her neck.

“em, i don’t want you alone in there with him. i know it’s irrational and that you’d totally have it under control…it’s just freaking me out.” you took a shaky breath, running your fingers through her hair.

“it’s stupid…” you mumbled, moving to pull away from her but she only squeezed you tighter.

“it’s not stupid. this job is dangerous and these guys are targeting women like us, it makes sense you feel the way you do. i’m just as anxious about it. but, nothing bad is going to happen. i’m going to make sure of it.” she pressed a soft kiss to your lips, making you smile slightly as she pulled away.

“okay, boss. we’ve got a flight to catch.”

-

Inside Your Head

Alex Blake x autistic!fem!reader Warnings: suggestive content (but not smut), sexual themes/innuendo, autism times (good ones, tho), established relationship, explicit language (let me know if I missed anything!) Word count: 0.9k

Summary: Alex is helping you pack up your apartment so you can move in with her. The only problem is that you keep getting distracted. And she's got to find a way to make you focus.

You stood on tiptoes to reach the books on the top shelf, grasping for their spines. You hated to un-alphabetize them but, after all, they wouldn’t stay that way in the boxes.

You jumped as Alex’s hands slipped inside your shirt and around your waist from behind. She buried her head in your neck, placing a kiss on your collarbone. You exhaled deeply, melting into her touch, placing your hands over hers.

“Need some help?” she asked.

You huffed, frustrated by your height. “...Yes.”

She reached over you to grab a few books, and for neither the first nor the last time that day, you admired her strong arms, fully on display thanks to the tank top she’d worn to help you pack. What you really wanted was to turn her around and push her up against the bookshelves, but you’d already gotten “distracted” once today. And Alex had said, in no uncertain terms, that there would be no more “distractions” until you’d finished packing up at least one room.

Alex ran her hands over the cover of a book, noting the torn dust cover, the pages grimy from years of fingers leafing through them.

“This must have been a favorite,” she observed, handing it to you.

You smiled, holding the book to your nose to smell the musty, familiar pages. “Yeah. For a long time when I was a kid.”

You sunk to the ground, leaning against the bookshelf and thumbing through the pages. Pages that had gotten you through so many things, that had ignited your love of words and stories.

“What’s it about?” Alex prompted, lowering herself to the floor next to you and leaning her head on your shoulder.

You traced your fingers over the cover. “The usual. Unlikely hero, dastardly villain, an order of pacifist monks.”

Alex furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t think that I’d classify an order of pacifist monks as ‘the usual.’”

You smiled. “I loved the monks. They’d have these huge feasts and invite all the villagers. The food always sounded so beautiful, like something lords and ladies would have eaten. I can’t tell you how badly I wanted to try strawberry cordial and candied chestnuts.”

“I’m pretty sure that can be arranged,” Alex hummed, tracing her finger across your knuckles. “Why did you like the monks so much? Or was it just the food?”

You sighed thoughtfully. “Well, I was very religious, you know that. I liked the order and the ritual of it. And I think I liked the monks because their whole lives revolved around order and ritual. Also, they had days where everyone just had to be quiet. How cool would that be!?”

Alex kissed you on the cheek. “That’s very autistic of you, darling.”

You blushed, and she kissed you again. “In a good way.”

You gently set the book in one of the boxes, but Alex snatched it out and held it to her chest.

“Mind if I borrow this?” she asked, standing to her feet and offering you her hand.

You took it and stood with her, smiling. “You, Dr. Alex Blake, want to read my children’s novel about monks?”

“I want to read anything that helps me get inside this beautiful head,” she said, grasping the sides of your face and kissing your forehead.

She looked so pretty and her hands were so soft against your skin, you just couldn’t help yourself. You gently grabbed her chin and pulled her in for a kiss. A real kiss, none of this flighty nonsense you’d been playing at all afternoon while you and Alex packed up your office. A kiss that had her fingertips digging into your skin, her tongue seeking entrance between your lips.

You pulled away for a brief moment, just to make sure that you weren’t going further than she wanted to, but the way her body lurched toward yours, the huff of breath she let out–that told you all you needed to know.

You smirked. “I thought we weren’t getting distracted, Alex,” you teased, your lips mere centimeters from hers.

You gasped as she pushed you back into the bookshelf, and one of the empty shelves pressed sharply into your back.

“It’s hardly my fault that you’re so distracting.” You felt her hands slip beneath your waistband and took that as all the encouragement you needed to start unbuttoning her silky, collared tank top.

“Ah!” she tutted, stilling your hands with her own. “One button, one book.”

“What?! No!”

“Yes, sweet girl.” Alex pulled away from you as quickly as you’d come together, and you missed the solidity of her against you. “You seem to need a little motivation, so I’m giving it to you. One book, one button. When the buttons are done, you’ll do one item, one article of clothing. And after that…” She gestured to the reading armchair that sat in the corner of your office. “I’m going to sit in that chair, completely naked, and read your little monks book until you’ve packed all this up. Understood?”

You pouted, looking at the disarray around you and knowing how unbearably aroused you’d be with Alex just sitting there. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Better get a move on, darling,” she whispered seductively in your ear. “I won’t wait forever.”

And with that, you began throwing books into boxes at random. You could worry about alphabetizing later. You had more important things to put in order this afternoon. Namely, your girlfriend.

Left Unsaid

Amelia Shepherd x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, angst (happy ending!), sex, fingering, explicit language, surgery times (duh), (let me know if I missed anything!) Word count: 1.8k

Summary: You used to be Dr. Shepherd's favorite resident, but something had happened in the last month that drove you further apart than ever. Will it get resolved (hint: yes, it does)?

“You, out!”

You stood, flabbergasted, in full scrub, suctioning blood out of someone’s brain-deep head wound. The OR had gone deathly silent, and if they could’ve seen your face under your surgical mask, they would have seen you blushing bright red.

All you’d done was ask a question. All you’d wanted to know was why Dr. Shepherd had gone after the brain bleed at the angle she did, because it wasn’t the angle you’d expected. You were a surgical resident. Asking questions is what you were supposed to do.

“Dr. Shepherd, I–”

“Uh-uh. You? Out of here. You’re distracting me, Y/L/N. And if you can’t focus on saving this man’s life, you don’t need to be in here.”

Frustrated and more than a little embarrassed, you handed off the suction tube to another resident and quickly burst through the doors and into the scrub room, washing your hands furiously. You felt like crying. You didn’t know what was going on these days.

During your intern year, you’d gotten really close with Dr. Shepherd. She’d sort of take you under her wing, said you had the right mind and hands for neuro. You worked well together, almost read each other’s thoughts sometimes, it seemed. But the last month or so, she’d all but banished you from her service.

You knew part of it had to be Webber’s new initiative for “well-rounded surgeons,” a new protocol where residents were cycled between attendings at random, with no favoritism or preference allowed. But even when you were assigned to neuro, Dr. Shepherd always put you on the other neurosurgeon’s service. She hardly talked to you at all.

You wondered if you’d done something wrong, something to completely ruin the mentorship–no, the friendship–you’d felt like you were forming with Dr. Shepherd. Not only did you miss her company, miss working with her, but you missed neuro.

You spent the rest of your day on neuro doing glorified scut alongside the interns. Humiliating. And when you finally went home, you wanted nothing more than to collapse on the couch and order Chinese food. But a text from your cohort group chat reminded you that tonight was the annual Surgeons for Surgeons benefit gala. And unless you wanted to be fired, you’d have to show up, bells on, ready to mix and mingle and convince Seattle’s rich and famous to donate to the program that connected Seattle-Grace with its partner hospital in Nairobi.

You stared at yourself in the mirror before leaving. Thanks to a very artful layer of makeup, you looked a little less exhausted than you really were. And you had to admit, you looked good in a suit.

By the time you and your friends arrived at the gala, things were in full swing. Wine, music, twinkling lights, the whole shebang. You were determined to have fun with your friends, despite whatever weird stuff was going on with Dr. Shepherd. You’d had a few glasses of wine, had danced with a few other residents, and had generally avoided Dr. Shepherd, even though once or twice you’d caught her watching you. Let her feel bad, you thought. She was out of line.

But when you were on your way back from the bathroom, a hand shot out of a hallway and gently grabbed your arm.

“Jesus, Dr. Shepherd,” you complained, straightening your suit as she crossed her arms and looked at you, leaning against the hallway wall.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “You just…” She threw up her hands. “You’ve been avoiding me all night. I didn’t know how else to talk to you.”

You raised your eyebrows. “I’ve been avoiding you!?” You scoffed. “Dr. Shepherd, you haven’t talked to me in over a month. I went from being the de facto neuro resident to being bottom of the barrel in your OR. So forgive me if I’m not jumping at the opportunity to chat with you.”

Dr. Shepherd looked at the ground. “I know. I’m sorry.”

You sighed. “Look, I don’t care if we’re friends, okay? I– I would have liked it. I like you. But my career comes first. And whatever’s going on with us got in the way of that today. So whatever I did to upset you, I’m sorry. Okay? But I love neuro. And I’m good at it. You don’t have to talk to me ever, outside of work, but you cannot keep me from surgery.”

You started to walk away, but she stopped you.

“Y/N!” she called, grabbing your hand and holding it for just a moment too long. You were taken aback by her use of your first name. She always called you Dr. Y/L/N. “I don’t want that.”

“Okay…” You shrugged. “So put me back on your service.”

“No, I mean…” She exhaled sharply and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t want to be friends with you.”

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting. You liked Dr. Shepherd. You really liked her. You thought she’d liked you. You thought that in another life… But it didn’t matter now.

“Message received,” you said, avoiding her eyes.

“God, that’s not what I meant. I’m fucking this up.” She looked at you almost like she was in pain. As if there were words she just couldn’t get out. “What the hell,” she finally mumbled, then grabbed the sides of your face and kissed you.

To say you were surprised would be an understatement. But her lips felt so good against yours, her hands warm and soft against your skin. This was what Dr. Shepherd had wanted with you, why she’d been avoiding you. And, if you were honest with yourself, it was what you’d wanted to, you’d just been too scared to let yourself admit it.

You wrapped your arms around her waist, pressing her into the wall to deepen the kiss. She whined into your mouth, her tongue fighting for entrance, and you knew–by the arousal shooting down through your very core, the wetness pooling in your underwear–that this would not end here tonight. Amelia’s arms snaked underneath your blazer, searching for skin.

“Why do you have so many clothes on?” Amelia muttered breathlessly, painstakingly unbuttoning the collar of your dress shirt, then continuing on to the lower ones.

“Whoa!” You grabbed her wrists, pushing them away. “We’re in a public hallway, Dr. Shepherd.”

She huffed, pulling you by the arm into the closest room, which turned out to be some poor soul’s vacated office at this event venue. She slammed the door, taking her own turn to push you against a surface. It took your breath away.

“Don’t call me Dr. Shepherd when we’re about to have sex,” she said, trailing kisses down your neck.

“Fine, Amelia,” you retorted, and she smiled into a kiss. She liked a little sass in a woman.

With one hand, you rolled her nipple between your fingers. With the other, you moved slowly down her body, gently pulling up her dress to slip a hand into her underwear.

She gasped as you brushed lightly over her clit. “Fuck,” she breathed, throwing her head back. You smiled, happy to have a little power. Amelia might have all the power in the OR, but you had all the power here. You could tell by the way her hips rolled toward you, by the way she leaned heavily on the desk at her back–she wanted you bad.

She breathed heavily, squeezing your arms as she pushed her hips into you, desperate for the friction, the pressure. You grinned wickedly and removed your hand, licking her arousal off your fingers.

“Y/N!” she protested, glaring at you.

“Hmm.” You pretended to be thinking deeply, circling the rest of her vulva so that you were close, so close, to where she needed you, but not quite there. “You know what? I bet this feels a lot like being knee deep in a surgery and then being pulled for no reason at all.”

“I said I was sorry! Please, Y/N.” You had her squirming and writhing and you were getting drunk off her desperation.

You pushed two of your fingers into her warmth, already so wet, so ready for you, and she moaned. “I mean, I guess, if you insist.” You smirked at her, loving to see her lose control. She was always so in control at work. It was honestly something you admired about her. But right now? All you wanted was to see her coming apart.

There was a part of you that wanted to tell all the residents, to tell everyone that you were fucking Dr. Amelia Shepherd. But there was another part of you–deeper, softer, more you–that wanted to keep her all to yourself. Because some part of you knew that it wasn’t just sex, no matter how much easier it’d be if it was.

Amelia’s breathing grew ragged, her walls pulsing around you and you knew she was close. You circled her clit with your thumb, and she thrust her hips up into your touch, chest heaving, legs shaking. And when she finally, finally hit her peak, you scooped your arm around her back to hold her up, keeping your rhythm steady until she came down, resting her head on your shoulder, a thin sheen of sweat on her face.

“Fuck!” she breathed, lifting her head to grin at you and tuck your hair behind your hair. “Your hands.”

“That’s why I’m such a good surgeon.” You winked at her.

“That’s why you’re good at a number of things, apparently.” Amelia pulled her underwear up, straightening her dress.

“Well,” she shrugged. “Should we go back in?”

You scoffed. “I’m certainly not.”

“Why?!”

“Are you kidding me!? There’s a fucking lake in my underwear right now. I gotta go home.”

Amelia smirked, pulling you down by your collar for another kiss. You couldn’t take much more of this. You needed her. Or a vibrator. Or a dildo. Or something.

“You want help?” she asked, playing with the hair at the nape of your neck.

You blushed. The tables had turned all of a sudden, and she was the one with the power now. “Yeah,” you said quietly. “Yeah, that’d be… that’d be good.”

She laced her hand in yours, squeezing it. “Take me home, Dr. Y/L/N.”

“What if someone sees us!?” you hissed, looking both ways out the office door.

“We’ll slip out the back.”

“Sneaky.” You nodded. “I like this side of you.”

Glancing furtively around, she leaned forward and sunk her teeth into your neck, taking you by surprise. You gasped.

She pressed her lips against your ear. “I’ve got a lot of sides you haven’t seen yet.”

God, you couldn’t wait to see them.

THE ERA

i don't care what anyone says.

nothing (not even jackson and april) will ever top this era.

She Keeps Me Up

Dom!Jennifer Jareau x Sub!Fem!Reader

I'd fall to pieces if I went anywhere without her

Summary:

JJ is protective of you. When you offer yourself up as 'bait' to lure in an UnSub who is killing women of your type, she protests endlessly about it - but ultimately she can't stop you.

She can, however, possessively lay her claim on you when you get back from the ordeal with nothing more than a tiny scratch.

Dom!Jennifer Jareau x Sub!Fem!Reader. Established Dom/Sub Relationship. Smut/PWP.

Word Count: 3,100

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: This is pretty much pure smut (with very little plot); this is older/milf JJ and younger reader - the specific age difference is not stated, but the reader is mentioned to be the youngest person on the team; JJ is dominant and the reader is submissive; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; in the very minimal plot, the reader volunteers herself as 'bait' to lure an UnSub (that UnSub is hunting women with similar looks to the reader, but the reader's looks are not described in any way); (passing mention of rape - the UnSub rapes his victims); the reader ends up with a very small cut on her neck from the UnSub but doesn't get any other injuries from the incident; JJ is very protective of the reader; JJ is very possessive of the reader; lots of praise kink - JJ calls the reader 'good girl'; JJ calls the reader 'baby', and 'babygirl'; thigh riding (the reader rides JJ's thigh); JJ is fully clothed and the reader is naked; Mommy kink - the reader refers to JJ as Mommy; very slight manhandling (nothing beyond JJ's realistic strength/nothing to suggest the reader can't be plus sized); oral sex - reader receiving; edging (once - because JJ likes to play with her food); slight spit kink; undertones of humiliation kink; fingering - reader receiving; a lot of begging; implications toward overstimulation; and I think that's it?

A/N: I feel like I have to give credit to this amazing edit - this inspired the general vibe of this fic and inspired the song choice for the title. Dom Milf JJ got stuck in my head and I needed to write about her, and when someone requested thigh riding with Dom JJ, it all came together perfectly in my brain. This could be viewed as a version of JJ who never married Will, or this could be viewed as a situation where Will and JJ are poly and Will is totally okay with JJ and the reader's relationship (which is what's happening in my head, even though I didn't mention Will in the fic). Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!!

...

“You did so good. Hey, shh. It’s okay. You did so good. You’re okay.” 

It was still echoing in your mind - JJ’s firm, soothing voice speaking the words, along with the way she held you tight as you collapsed into her arms after the long, hectic night. 

You had been the perfect bait to a killer that the BAU had been struggling to catch - a young, pretty face, exactly like all the other girls he had killed thus far. You were the youngest member of the team, a fresh face that perfectly matched the man’s type in a string of young girls that he had murdered and dismembered after brutally raping them. 

Even though you had volunteered to help lure the killer out, JJ had been stiff-jawed and glaring at the mere suggestion of you in the presence of such a sick man. You saw it as a way to help, but all she saw was horrible flashes in her mind, images of you merging with the crime scene photos on the board, turning into one of the dead girls who had been killed so brutally. It kept flashing through her mind on a loop, taunting her. She was deeply against it, and spent the better part of the day trying to talk Emily out of it, trying to convince the team that there was some other way. 

But you wouldn’t risk the lives of any more women. You trusted the team to have your back. 

And even when the horrible man had held the knife to your throat, just barely cutting into your skin with it while the team rushed to capture him, you still didn’t regret it. So many more people would be safe because of what you had done. JJ had been there for you - holding onto you tight, and assuring you that you had done well while your chest racked with sobs and you struggled for breath. 

There was a lot of paperwork to be done and technically they wanted you to visit the hospital to be fully medically cleared, but all you wanted was JJ. You needed some time alone in a quiet room instead of all the flashing lights, people bustling around, asking you questions, crowding into your personal space. She stayed tight by your side, her hand never leaving yours. 

She barked at them in her authoritative voice when you gave her a sad-eyed look that told her you didn’t want to go to the hospital. The small cut on the side of your neck that had been inflicted by the man’s large knife was bandaged up with you sitting on the back of the ambulance and then JJ whisked you away from it all. 

With you still shaking lightly, your muscles quivering with anxiety and your chest threatening more sobs - she knew that you wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not with your mind replaying it all, over and over again. 

She knew exactly what you needed. (She always did.) 

It wasn’t long before she had you alone in her hotel room, stripped completely naked while she was still fully clothed. She guided you to sit on her lap as she sat on the edge of the bed, the roughness of her clothes so perfect against your sensitive skin. 

The lights were dim - only the lamp of the side table turned on, creating the perfect quiet atmosphere, making it feel like the two of you were the only people in the world. She had a firm, commanding grip on your hips with both hands, guiding you to sit with your thighs bracketed around her leg. You were soon sitting with the firmness of her athletic, muscled thigh stiff between your legs; nestled up against your hot, needy pussy as she firmly pulled you to sit on the fabric of her gray slacks. 

You let out a loud whimper as she pulled you to fully sit and forced her thigh fully between your legs. She forced the muscled firmness right up against the naked, swollen lips of your cunt. You weren’t completely wet (yet), but you found yourself clenching down hard at the pure rawness of the fabric rubbing against you, the feeling of her nails digging into the flesh of your hips. 

Upon instinct, your hands moved to sit on her shoulders, tangling into the mess of blonde curls there. You whimpered even harder at the feeling of her lips skimming along your cheek as she gently hushed you. 

“Shh, shh.” She said, entirely confident and firm. “Good girl. You’re so good for me.” 

Her nose brushed down toward your neck and her thigh flexed - you unconsciously bucked forward, scraping your pussy against her leg, creating a raw, perfect burning friction. A needy heat easily grew within you at a very fast rate, easily pushing out any fear or anxiety that you had about being attacked by that man, about coming so close to having your jugular sliced. All of it melted away from you with her grounding touch on you, with her breath fanning across your skin, with her familiar scent in your lungs. 

“We’re gonna take it slow, okay baby?” JJ said, her soothing voice petting across you - like being wrapped in velvet. 

Slow. 

That word was usually your enemy. 

But you knew that JJ set the pace, no matter what. She was the one in charge. If she ripped your pants down and demanded that you cum within a minute - then you were just a puppet for her pleasure. If she laid you out on the bed naked and played with you, teased you for hours and only let you cum for the first time when the sun was starting to rise - then all you could do was lay there, a sweaty mess, and let her have her way with you. 

She was the commander, and you were nothing but her humble follower. 

You felt hollow without her - always waiting for her command, waiting for her touch. And you could do nothing but accept what she had to give you. 

“Yes, Mommy.” You squeaked out, sliding your palms from her shoulders, deeper into the softness of her hair, seeking more of that touch - more comfort. 

“Good girl.” 

It was that firm praise coming from the velvet of her voice that had wetness truly leaking from you now. You didn’t think that she could feel it through the fabric of her pants, not yet. But she knew you well enough, and she could see the tense of your thighs, the way your stomach quivered. She knew how to play you like a fiddle. And she was good. 

So it was then that JJ dug her fingers into your hips once again, and began rocking you across her thigh - forcing you to move. She wanted you to begin riding her thigh in order to get off. 

“Come on, baby.” She encouraged you, lifting her face from your neck to look you in the eyes - sharp, icy blue piercing through the dim lighting of the room at you, instantly making your gut twist. “Move your hips. Be a good girl for me. Come on.” 

You couldn’t help but to follow the instructions, encouraged by her words. You moved your hips along as she guided you - already feeling pleasant warmth and tingling creeping up your spine, pooling in your stomach and between your thighs. With your swollen pussy rubbing against the fabric of her pants, it was creating a hot friction that was already driving you crazy. Your legs unconsciously widened, your body grinding downward, trying to get more attention on your throbbing clit. 

“Patience, needy girl.” JJ growled, digging her thumbs firmly into your hips, making you moan out in pain at the sharp touch. 

She guided you along in wide, languid strokes. She was forcing your hips to stroke back toward her knee, forcing your back to arch harshly before she brought you back to sit more upright, bringing your body closer to hers once again. It was a motion that put tingling heat through you - but it was a slow burn, rather than the fast, mindless pounding that your body was begging for. She was keeping you on a low simmer, forcing your body to warm up so slowly. 

It was just like she wanted - slow. 

You whined out with impatience, your hand grasping at her shirt while you bit your lip harshly. You were deeply resisting the urge to fight against her grasp in order to fuck yourself against her. 

“Please.” You begged quietly. “Please, Mommy. I need it.” 

“I know what you need, babygirl.” JJ told you, leaning in to kiss your forehead. 

You let out another pathetic whine, but conceded to her whims. 

You closed your eyes to simply feel it, wondering how you would be able to cum like this. (Thinking that you wouldn’t.) 

JJ continued to guide you across her thigh with determination and force. 

You were getting wetter with each stroke, your body boiling in that slow burn, your thighs shaking every single time you were guided back enough for the stiffness of her muscles to graze your swollen clit. You continued on, your hips pushing deeper - knowing she wouldn’t let you break pace, pushing yourself down harder. You were simply enjoying the presence of her hands on you and the pure burn of her thigh between your legs as you bucked across her in those long, deep strokes. 

“Please.” You started begging again. “Please, Mommy, please-” 

“Such a needy girl.” JJ sighed - the tone of her voice almost bored - so light and airy, with none of her own lust showing through at all. 

Though if you could have pried your eyes open for a second, you would have seen her icy irises almost completely chased out by her lust-blown pupils. You would have seen her looking at you with nothing but pure hunger - absolutely loving the show you were putting on for her as you became more desperate, as you stained her pants wetter and wetter as you went on.

“Mommy’s precious girl.” She hummed to herself.  

You would have instantly seen through her calm facade. But you were far too distracted for that. 

You were too caught up in your own head, too busy keeping up the long strokes of your hips for some friction on your cunt. You didn’t catch the wistful tone of her voice; you were too distracted to truly feel the way her thumb just barely brushed against the bandage sitting on your neck. You missed the way her eyes lingered on it - half glaring at the bandage, half glossy with unshed tears. 

She was still burning with deep anger at the thought that anyone would be allowed to bring even the smallest amount of harm to something that belonged to her and still live. But she was also thankful to the high heavens that you had come out of the incident safe. So thankful that you were back in her arms. 

“Mommy-” You croaked out again, your voice cracking with pure need, pulling JJ from her thoughts. 

She shouldn’t be thinking of the filthy man who had almost hurt you. She should be thinking of ways she could bring you pleasure now - ways she could be thankful that you were still here, unharmed. 

“Where do you need it, huh? Right here?” JJ replied, moving one of her hands to slot between your legs, just barely brushing her fingers against your clit. 

This made your hips stutter, pushing toward her touch even more. 

“Yes!” You breathed out desperately. “Yes, there! Please!” 

JJ let out a gentle laugh, and this made you downright dizzy. 

Before you could even comprehend it, you had been flipped onto your back - JJ taking advantage of the fact that your body was limp, lust-weakened and distracted. You were breathless as you looked up at her, now towering over you, so damn powerful with her hair billowing around her in a beautiful golden curtain. Her hands slid up your sides firmly while she leaned into you, pressing her knee into the naked rawness of your cunt - something that made you moan and clench your thighs tighter around her leg. 

“Gonna give you just what you need, pretty girl.” 

JJ rocked her knee against you a few times, enough to make you moan out brokenly. Before you could get any real friction from it, she moved away completely, leaving you breathless and even more needy. 

And then, leaving your stomach flipping with anticipation - she descended downward, using a hair tie that she had around her wrist to put her hair into a messy bun before she positioned herself between your thighs. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she had in mind. 

She took a hold of you by the backs of your knees and shoved your legs up toward your chest, bending you to her will. This made you vulnerable and open to anything she wanted from you as she dove in eagerly. The moment that her tongue made contact with your clit, you knew that you were done for. 

(Like you always were exactly when she wanted you to be.) 

“Mommy!” You cried out desperately. 

Your back arched hard as you fisted the comforter of the still-made bed underneath you, quivering under her touch but unable to move as she kept you concretely in place. Her lips suctioning tightly around your clit and sucking for dear life, determined to make you cum as hard as possible now that she had teased you to this point. 

“Fuck, Mommy! Oh, oh god!” 

Your hip muscles quivered and you gasped hard, struggling to get air into your lungs as she furiously worked her tongue over you. The movements of her talented tongue causing sharp, hard shocks of pleasure to emanate out from that precious little point. It was all so perfect - the filthy slide of her spit mixing with your wetness, dripping down between your pussy lips, even gathering and dripping down along your asshole and lingering in a small puddle on the bed. 

You were a mess - just as JJ wanted. 

She dug her nails into the flesh on the backs of your thighs, making the muscles in your legs burn from holding the position. But you had nowhere to go, you could do nothing but sit there and take it as she sucked on your clit and tongued against you with vigor - giving you exactly what you had been begging for, making you mindless and dizzy as the pleasure became near painful in the most beautiful way. 

“Mommy!” You gasped. “Mommy, fuck! Gonna-” 

She cut off your words just as you were on the edge, pulling back with a wicked grin and just barely cutting off your orgasm. It made your whole body tense up in shock and caused your lungs to let out a shocked, disappointed whine. You bit your lip to keep from swearing or letting out any complaints - which you knew would only lead to a prolonged time before cumming with JJ in charge. 

Instead, you stared at her with your best sad eyes, hoping she would take pity on you. She gathered a large glob of spit on her tongue and heaved it onto your clit, and the touch of this alone had your legs quivering harshly and caused you to let out another sharp moan. 

“Please!” You began begging again, knowing that your voice was completely choked by desperation. “Please, please, please, please-” You didn’t breathe between the words, chanting with pure need until JJ shut you up. 

“Shh, shh.” She hushed you, running her cheek along your inner thigh. “You need it that bad, huh?” She mocked you gently, and you echoed back a moan. 

“Yes.” You confirmed, your voice warbling. 

“Hey, look at me.” She hummed quietly. 

Your head snapped toward her automatically, and then you were staring down those powerful eyes once again - greeted by her chin glistening with your juices, her messy hair half fallen out of the haste bun. Of course, she looked more gorgeous than ever. 

JJ crept back up your body, letting go of one of your thighs and letting it relax, but keeping the other leg pinned up. She put her body weight against it now, putting your knee over her shoulder while she snuck her hand between your thighs as she leaned in to kiss you firmly. The taste of yourself on her lips was beautifully tangy, and you couldn’t help but to suck that taste off her tongue as she forced it between your lips. 

She pulled away after a moment, pulling a moan from between your lips. 

“Tell me that you’re never gonna do that again.” JJ whispered against your lips. 

In your lust-wrecked state, you were confused. 

“Huh?” You mumbled back. 

“Tell me that you’re never going to volunteer as bait ever again.” JJ said, grinding out the word harshly. “You belong to me. And you need to be safe. So what I say - goes.” 

Your pussy clenched at her words. You hadn’t realized how much you had truly worried her - how much you had upset her. 

“I won’t do it again.” You murmured back, your voice partially lost in your throat. “I promise, Mommy. I won’t. I’m yours.” 

JJ showed her satisfaction with your declaration by shoving two fingers into your well-slicked, wanting pussy. With no warning, she began pounding the digits in and out at a furious pace, sending your body into overdrive. 

Still pinning your leg into place with her body, she moved her other hand down so that she could rub your clit in fast, hard strokes to make it all more intense. 

In seconds, your pussy was once again throbbing, lit up and burning from the sensations while she fucked you hard and quick - driving you towards an orgasm at an intense, rapid pace. 

You let out harsh pants against her mouth and her lips formed into a sharp smile, clearly pleased with herself for turning you into such a mess so quickly. She crooked her elbow so that she could fuck her fingers into you at a sharper angle - and it was only moments before you felt your stomach clenching up again, that telltale heat drawing across your thighs as your clit downright burned underneath her fingers. 

“Please. Please, Mommy!” You begged, your throat scraping against the word now. “I need, I need - oh!” 

She was actually feeling merciful this time, and continued to fuck you through it, finally bringing you to the orgasm that your body had been begging for all night. 

But of course, she didn’t let up. She wasn’t going to stop there. 

She leaned in and kissed you on the forehead, and you knew that you had a very long night ahead of you.

...

A/N: Please keep in mind, this is a standalone oneshot, and I will not be writing a follow up or a 'part 2'. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written. Also, please consider reblogging, because supporting fanfiction writers is important to keep fandoms going! If you liked this and you want to see more, definitely check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist for more of my work.

Eyes Up.

Request: Hi there! I'd love to request a smutty Wanda/Reader fic if you're still open to them. Is mirror sex a kink that you'd be okay writing about?

Summary: Wanda fucks you in front of a mirror, only allowing you to come if you follow the two simple rules she set for you.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI!! smut, mirror sex, mommy kink, fingering, praise, marking, begging, orgasm denial, breast play, one (1) pussy spank, overstimulation.

Word Count: 1.5k

You sat perched on Wanda’s lap, your back flush against her front. Both of your legs dangled down from the edge of the bed where you were both seated, her legs wrapped around your calves keeping you spread open for her. A mirror was placed strategically in front of you so you could watch every little thing Wanda decided to do with you and your body.

Two of Wanda’s fingers pistoned in and out of your pussy as she fucked into you. Your hole dripping with arousal while you struggled to keep your eyes on your reflection as you had been ordered to do. Every time your eyes moved from where they were supposed to be, Wanda would pause all of her movements and would deny you anything until you were looking at your reflection once again. 

Deep purple marks were already scattered along your neck from where Wanda had relentlessly sucked and bit at your most sensitive spots. Your nipples were sore and aching from the amount of times they had been played with and tugged on harshly. Wanda didn’t take it lightly when you disobeyed strict orders. She had already made it easy enough for you by only putting in two rules. They were easy enough for a dumb little thing like you to remember.

Don’t come without permission and keep your eyes on your reflection. 

It was as simple as that. 

Only your shyness made those rules quite hard for you to follow. Seeing Wanda’s bare body along with watching the way her hands toyed with you in any way she wished had made you more flustered than you liked to admit. It was hard for you sometimes to vocalise your needs. It wasn’t always easy to overcome the embarrassment of asking Wanda for such lewd things. But Wanda always loved when you begged for her, that slight blush covering your cheeks as you asked her to please let you come. 

Moans fell freely from your mouth as Wanda played with your body expertly. She knew you better than you did yourself sometimes. With one hand around your waist, securing you down, another finger prodded at your wet hole, determined to stretch you out around her. 

You whined in protest, two of her slender fingers already filling you up to your satisfaction. Wanda tutted. “None of that. Be a good girl and take what you're given.”

Disregarding your whines, Wanda slid in a third finger, your tight pussy clamping down on her. Wanda groaned from behind you at the feeling of you sucking her in. She slowed her movements, allowing you some time to adjust to the stretch. You writhed on her lap, feeling incredibly full. 

Your eyes zeroed in on the reflection in front of you of her fingers, soaked in your arousal, sliding in and out of your dripping hole. Wanda smirked and picked up her place slightly causing you to mewl and buck your hips up into her palm. It felt too good, borderline being too much for you. 

You sat panting on her lap, moans and whines spewing from your mouth as she fucked you deep. You shut your eyes tightly being on the verge of coming, lost in the pleasure she was providing you with. A mixture of moans and whines escaped from your mouth, desperate for her to let you fall over the edge.

But then, suddenly everything stopped. A gasp escaped you and your eyes immediately shot back open, only to be met with the reflection of Wanda's hash glare. You knew what you did wrong. She didn't have to tell you that. 

“No, please, I'm sorry mommy. I was so close, please.” You begged her, your voice coming out more whiny than you had intended. Of course you were desperate for her. 

“I told you darling.” She grasped your chin, forcing you to look ahead so your eyes were where they were supposed to be. “Don't you dare look away this time. Do you understand me? And I better hear you begging for it. You know I love hearing you beg so prettily for me.”

“Yes mommy.” You replied obediently, nodding dumbly to her command. You made sure to keep your eyes fixed on your reflection.

She prodded at your hole once more, slick fingers entering you and curling up inside you, hitting that sweet, spongy spot of yours that made you see stars. The coil in your lower stomach was tightening again, your need for release growing with each passing second. You felt like you were going to go crazy if she denied you again. 

She kept up her rigorous pace, bringing you closer and closer to your impending orgasm with each curl of her skilled fingers. You were moaning and squirming in her hold, murmurs of how good Wanda was making you feel escaping you.

A smirk rose on Wanda’s face as she hit your g-spot repeatedly, sending your mind into a frenzy. It felt almost tortuous but you didn’t want it to stop. She watched as your face scrunched up in pleasure. She drank up the sight of you in front of her, all desperate for her and begging so prettily. She would never get enough of it. 

Her eyes watched yours intently as she brought you closer to the edge. Maybe if you had been watching her closer, you would’ve known she’d catch you out. Your head fell back down onto her shoulder, eyes casted down to the floor, your body ready to let go.

She slid out, her hand came up and landed a firm spank on your pussy. 

You whimpered, tears glossing your eyes at the sting paired with the feeling of being denied. You squirmed helplessly on her lap, needing nothing more than your release. “Please mommy, I need it.” You all but cried out. Your wide doe eyes stared at Wandas through the mirror, hoping she’ll have mercy on you and give you what you want. 

“Eyes up.” Wanda growled into your ear. She was losing her patience with you. One more mistake and she had no problem leaving you all desperate and needy if you couldn't follow two simple rules. 

Forcing your head back up, you maintained eye contact with your girlfriend. Her thumb toyed with your clit, rubbing harsh circles onto it while her fingers pistoned in and out of you repeatedly. 

It didn’t take long until you were at the edge again. Being worked up over and over again had made you sensitive to every little touch. You clamped down on her fingers, making eye contact with Wanda through the mirror. “Please mommy, please can I come? Please, please.” You begged her.

Wanda couldn’t help but grin at the state you were in. “That’s my good girl. Come for mommy, darling. Let me watch you fall apart.”

As difficult as it was for you, you made sure your eyes remained on hers as you fell apart under her skilled touches. Wanda felt pride swell in her seeing you following her instructions. “There we go, good girl. Just like that.” Wanda’s movements inside you didn’t cease just yet. “So beautiful. You’re my pretty little girl, aren’t you?” 

Her words barely reached you through the fuzz taking over your mind as you surrendered to the feeling of letting go. Wanda coached you through your orgasm, praising you while her fingers still worked in and out of you. A crease formed between your brows as she continued her ministrations on you, your arousal still leaking onto the bed, forming a small puddle. 

You squirmed in her hold. You were already sensitive enough but Wanda didn’t show any signs of letting up, three fingers still roughly pistoning in and out of your sopping pussy. Wanda shushed your whines, leaning in to kiss down your jawline. “Be a good girl and take what mommy gives you, okay baby?”

One hand glided up your body, finding home at your tits. Her index finger circled around your areola before coming to pinch your nipple harshly between her thumb and index finger. The sudden twinge of pain pushing you over the edge once again with a high pitched moan. 

You convulsed in her lap, your nerves practically setting to flames as you came around her fingers for the second time. The noises coming from your pussy were downright embarrassing for you to hear. Wanda's hand was now soaked in your arousal, the small puddle now growing underneath you. 

You whined, grasping onto the bed sheets tightly, your hips rolling as you struggled to form a coherent sentence. Wanda continued fucking into you, her pace relentless. Words babbled out from your mouth, a mixture of curse words and pleads as you battled internally to decide whether you wanted more or needed a break. You didn’t actually know what you were begging her for. 

“You wanted to come, didn’t you?” Wanda asked, whispering right into your ear. “I’m only giving you what you asked for, baby.” There was a sly grin on her face as she continued to play with you. She didn’t intend on stopping until you were an incoherent, fuzzy mess on her lap. Just how she liked you.

What You Want

Alex Blake x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, sex, fingering, toys, age gap relationship (all parties are very much adults, like 30+), also fluffy times because I can't not, explicit language (please let me know if I've missed anything) Word count: 2.1k

Summary: It's your first time, and Alex treats you right. But what if you want too much from the relationship? What if she doesn't want the things that you want?

Note(s): There is a severe lack of Alex Blake content on here! I've just gotten to the Alex seasons on my Criminal Minds rewatch and she's so fine, so smart, so funny. Also, thank you to the several Alex Blake fic writers who use darling girl as her signature pet name for reader because that's fucking cute and, in my mind, it's canon now.

“Shhh,” Alex soothed from her perch in between your legs as you gasped and writhed. She planted a kiss on your thigh, letting her finger rest inside of you, letting your body stretch and adapt. “Just relax, sweet girl. Breathe. In and out, there you go. I’ve got you.”

She laced her free hand with yours, and you gripped it tight, pleasure and pain roiling underneath the surface of your skin. Three times tonight. That’s how many times she’d already made you come. From her mouth. From the vibrator she held at just the right angle, brushed against you at just the right speed to have you completely fall apart. From her body pressed against yours.

You didn’t know you could feel like this, so good, so electric, it made you nearly black out with pleasure. You’d told Alex you were a virgin, and you’d been so worried it would scare her off. After all, you were thirty. Who waited until their thirties? You did. You just hadn’t found anyone you’d wanted to do those things with. Until Alex.

And she hadn’t cared one bit. She’d just cupped your face and kissed your nose and said, “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll be gentle.” No questions. No revulsion. No why haven’t you had sex before?! Just Alex, excited to be your first. Just Alex, taking care of you all night long.

You whimpered as Alex started slowly moving her finger in and out, in and out. You could feel yourself dripping onto her as she pressed another finger inside. You could feel your stomach tighten, your hips buck against her hand, and you couldn’t control it. It was like your body was separate from your mind, or perhaps had taken it over, and left it with only one thought: Alex, Alex, Alex.

“You’re being so good for me, honey. Such a good girl.”

Alex moved to lay next to you, maneuvering for a different angle and when she hit it–Jesus Christ, you lit up like a bonfire.

“Alex,” you moaned, your hips rocking into her hand again and again. She kissed your cheek, and you tucked your head in the crook of her neck, intoxicated by the smell of her–sweat, perfume, and something else unnameable, unique to her, soft and warm like a bookshop.

Your chest heaved and you squeezed your fists together, your arms limp and stupid at your sides. You didn’t know what to do with them. She kept telling you to relax, to let her take care of you, and you had, but you still felt like you were floundering.

Alex kissed you again, deeply, hungrily, licking a stripe from your neck to your mouth. “Go ahead, baby, you can touch me,” she whispered breathily into your ear.

“I don’t know how,” you admitted, a groan escaping your lips as she pressed the heel of her palm into your clit.

She laughed, and it was beautiful. Her eyes crinkling. The way she pressed her tongue between her teeth.

“Like this,” she told you, moving your hand and placing it on the bare small of her back. Her skin felt so good under your fingertips you almost came from that alone. You gasped for breath, running your hands up and down her back, across the rise of her ass, burying your face between her breasts. She was so warm, so soft, so very, very alive.

You felt the knot below your stomach tighten and tighten until there was nothing left but for it to snap.

“Alex,” you panted, as she pressed once more into that spot that short-circuited your brain.

You moaned, high and desperate, your body contracting as you approached the edge.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Come on. You’re so close. One more for me, yeah?”

But this time was not like the others. This time you were like a surfer waiting for an approaching wave, only to realize when it arrived that it was so much bigger, so much more powerful than you’d expected. A wave that crashed into you with such force you thought you might drown in it. You were vaguely aware of someone making a lot of noises that either sounded wildly pleasurable or wildly painful. It started almost as a burning, then flamed through your entire body, from your center all the way down to your toes, to the follicles on the top of your head. Your body spasmed with the strength of it, and for Alex’s part, she held you close, her skilled fingers guiding you through, smiling softly as you jerked and shook around her.

All at once, her touch at your most sensitive spot was painful, almost unbearably so. You pushed her hands away and shook, absolutely spent from the evening’s activities.

You let Alex cradle you in her arms, placing soft kisses all over your face and hands. She wrapped herself around you while you caught your breath, undoing her messy bun and carding her fingers through your hair as you pressed your face into her chest.

“You did so good, darling girl,” she cooed. “Do you feel alright?”

You hummed and nodded.

“Do you need anything? Water?”

“Water would be good,” you croaked and she grinned at you, eyes twinkling.

She sat up a bit and you tightened your grip around her waist. “No, no! I don’t need it that bad.”

Alex chuckled and kissed your forehead. You weren’t sure how long you layed like that in her bed, limbs tangled together, just breathing each other in, just resting and basking.

But after a while, Alex decided you had to stay hydrated and brought you both glasses of water, perching on the edge of the bed as she sipped. For your part, you downed yours so fast that little streams of water fell down your chin and onto your chest and neck.

You moved to wipe the water away with your hand, but Alex grabbed your fingers and squeezed them.

“Let me,” she said, drawing a line with her tongue up your stomach, your chest, your neck, and landing on your chin.

You were breathless by the time she got to your mouth, grasping both sides of her face in your hands and kissing her. You almost hoped that Alex couldn’t read the emotion behind the kiss because, for you, there was too much. You didn’t know if Alex saw you as a fling or a secret side link situation or a real relationship, but you wanted it to be real. You wanted it so badly. You knew you were probably too young for her. Hell, you were almost twenty years her junior. But it didn’t seem to matter when you were together. You loved her mind and her sharp sense of humor. You loved that she always asked what book you were reading. You loved that when you learned something new, she wanted to learn it, too. You loved her hair and her eyes and the way her cheeks dimpled when she smiled.

The bottom line was you liked her too much. You loved her, and it was too early to love her. And so you hoped, god, you hoped she couldn’t feel how much you loved her when you kissed her. Even though it was near impossible for you to hold back.

She pinched your cheek when she pulled away, grinning at you, to sit at the side of the bed and take gulps of water. She checked her phone messages, and you watched her. Content just to be with her, in her presence.

But all of a sudden, self-consciousness flooded you like an icy river. What if Alex didn’t want you there? In the movies, the first time they had sex, it was always casual. They went home afterward. No big deal. Were you supposed to go home? Were you supposed to feel like this was no big deal?

“Alex?” you ventured, your voice hesitant.

“Hmm?” Her chin was propped up on her knee and your heart melted a little bit just to see her so comfortable.

“Should I go home now?”

She looked at you quizzically, like she was trying to solve a puzzle or translate a particularly difficult passage in a dead language. “Only if you want to.”

You avoided her eyes. “Well, what do you want?”

Alex shook her head, smiling softly. “I want you to do whatever you want.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “But I want to do what you want me to do.”

“Hey,” she said, grabbing your face so fast it made your stomach somersault. “Stop that.”

You tried to laugh it off. “No, I just–”

She interrupted you with a kiss, forceful and firm. “Y/N,” she said. “You spend so much time making sure you accommodate what other people want. You need to decide what you want. Now, close your eyes.”

“Alex–” you protested.

“Close them.”

You sighed, but obliged her, enjoying the feeling of her fingers tracing your skin.

“Pretend I’m not here. What do you want to do tonight?”

You were quiet for a moment and, even when you spoke, your voice was soft and hoarse. This was a part of yourself you weren’t used to exercising–knowing what you wanted and asking for it.

“I want to stay here.”

Alex hummed encouragingly.

“I want to go to sleep with you.”

Once you’d started, you almost couldn’t stop. You were afraid if you didn’t let it out now, it’d stay inside your head forever.

“I want to wake up next to you. I want to make you breakfast. I want to kiss you goodbye when you go to work.”

There it was. All out. Well, not all of it, but all you could manage right now. And suddenly you were afraid to open your eyes, afraid you’d look into Alex’s and see that she didn’t want the same things. It was that very fear that usually kept you from admitting what you wanted.

“Open your eyes, Y/N.”

When you didn’t, you felt the bed dip a bit next to you, felt Alex’s breath warm on your face, felt her forehead press into yours, her body soft and solid. Close, so close. Where you always wanted her to be, but were too scared to ask for.

“Darling girl,” she whispered. “Don’t ever be ashamed to want such lovely things.”

You blinked your eyes open and looked at her in surprise. “But what do you want?” you asked, almost breathless.

Alex thought for a moment, just watching you. Your wide eyes, innocent and hopeful and scared and so, so young. She sat up again, so she could look down at you, appreciate how perfect you looked in her bed. “I want you,” she told you, caressing your face. “In whatever way you’ll let me have you.”

“All the ways,” you said, probably a little too quickly, too desperately. “You can have all of me, all the ways.”

Alex smiled sadly, running her fingers through your hair. “Honey, you’re gonna find some girl who’s your age and you’re gonna fall in love, and it’ll be beautiful, and I will be happy for you. I can’t keep you all to myself and keep you away from that.”

“Alex, I don’t want a girl my age,” you said earnestly. She looked away. “If I wanted to fuck girls my age, I would’ve been doing it for the last ten years. I want you.”

You took her hand and kissed it, holding her palm to your face.

She sighed and looked at you, mulling you over, as if she were making a move on a chess board. “If that changes, you’ve got to let me know.”

“It won’t,” you insisted, pressing your lips to each of her fingers in turn.

“Promise me.”

“I promise,” you conceded. “But, Alex, I don’t want anyone else. I just want you.”

In a rare show of confidence or boldness or just plain affection you crawled into Alex’s lap and wrapped your arms around her waist, planting a kiss on her jaw.

She seemed to surrender something then, to give in where previously she’d been fighting. She hugged you tightly to her, pressing her lips to the side of your head. “Oh, my girl. You’re too sweet for me, you know that?”

“Keep calling me your girl, and I’ll be as sweet as you want,” you mumbled, blushing.

She smirked and kissed your cheek, long and firm, before pulling you up to your feet.

“Alright, darling, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“I do feel kind of sticky…”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Alex joked, eyebrows raised.

You took her hand and followed her to the bathroom, glad that, at least for tonight, you were both getting what you wanted.

Shy?

Masterlist

Criminal Minds Masterlist Emily Prentiss Masterlist

Summary: Professor!Emily x fem!student reader, what happens when profesor prentiss and the reader finally give into their feelings?

Word count: 1.5k

TW: Making out, I think that’s it?

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader

A/N: Should I make this a series? Idk it might be fun!

Studying behavioural profiling is, well, different. It’s like science, criminology and psychology and smooshed into one subject. But the best thing about it, you ask? The teacher. Emily Prentiss is the most divine woman to ever step foot on this earth and no one can tell me otherwise. The way she strides along the front of the lecture all, her raven hair that falls in front of her face when she bends down to click something on her laptop, her eyes that always seem to find mine in a room full of students, her veiny hands that brush over mine when giving back a test. Ugh god, I swear I’m falling in love with this woman. 

It’s 7:45 am on a Wednesday and I’m walking across campus so I can get to lesson a little early to touch up my notes from my other class with Agent Morgan and to go over my- okay I’m bullshtting I just want to see Emily. And to be honest, I think I’m one of her more favourite students so I think she doesn’t mind me being early. 

I push open the door to the lecture hall and start walking down the steps, laptop bag slung over my shoulder that contained notebooks, pens, pencils etc, all the essentials. In my hand I held a travel coffee mug with my favourite hot chocolate in it because I wasn’t too partial to coffee. As I reach the front row I notice that Professor Prentiss has been following me with her eyes and watching the sway of my hips as I walked in. ”Morning Professor.” I try to say as if her eyes all over me weren’t causing a blush to creep up my neck. I took a quick check behind me finding out I was the only one in the room. 

“Hi, y/n. How are you today?” She asked her eyes staring into mine, genuinely curious.

”Good thank you, tired but good, what about you?” I smile as she chuckles lightly at my comment.

“Just about the same as you darling.” She replies with a smirk on her face seeing my face instantly bloom with red at the pet name. I shuffle my bag slightly before she says “I was out on a case for the last two or so days and I, only just, made it back in time to teach you guys. Lucky me hey? The only reason I’m even slightly okay with having to wake up at the ass crack of dawn is because of students like you. You actually listen and care, god knows that kind of work ethic is rare these days.” Emily looks exhausted and about ready to jump into bed at any second but the words that she said seem to cloud my head so I don’t pay much attention to her disheveled state. 

Students like me? What does that even mean? Well, she explained what it meant but I still wasn’t convinced. Nonetheless I responded “Yeah, it really is. All the people in this class want to be profilers or something along the lines of such and yet none of them take their education seriously. I want to throw something at them every time they talk over you. I might actually do it one day, it's so annoying!” She smiles fondly at my words making a cage of butterflies escape into my stomach and I smile back. 

“Now, I can’t have you throwing things at people, can I now sweetheart? That’ll get you kicked off the course. And I don’t think you want that, I certainly don’t want that, and besides don’t worry about the others. You’re doing amazing ah, that reminds me can you stay behind at the end? I just want to speak to you about your grade on our most recent exam. It’s nothing bad, I promise. You’ve done exceptionally well, in fact so well that I want to talk to you about further opportunities you have open to you.” She places her hand on my shoulder as we now stand face to face, she got up halfway through talking to lean on the front of her desk. I smile and subconsciously lean into her touch. The remains of the blush from the pet names yet again lingers but I say a small “Thank you Professor.” 

At that moment the door to the lecture hall swings open revealing another student in their own little world unaware of the building tension in the room. I give her one last smile and go make my way to a seat in the front row. I get out my laptop and notebook and start writing the dates and titles. I could feel eyes on me the whole time, I look up and lock eyes with Emily, finding her already looking at me. She sent me a wink and glanced back down at whatever she was working on. A crimson flush invaded my face and I returned my eyes to my page.

After the lesson I packed up slower than normal so that I’d be able to stay behind a little longer than she probably ment. I put my laptop in my bag and zip it up and grab my now empty hot chocolate. I walk up to Profesor Prentiss’ desk and find she’s already looking at me, again. 

“You know, you should stop staring at me so much. People might get the wrong idea.” I say, suddenly feeling confident, a teasing smirk on my lips. 

“What if I want them to get the wrong idea? What if I want them to think you’re mine?” I quickly shut up at that remark, all my confidence suddenly disappeared and I turned into putty. Heat rose to my cheeks and my head dipped to avoid her piercing gaze, it wasn’t mean, more admiration. But, any look from Emily Prentiss is intense. “Cat got your tongue honey?” She had a shit eating grin on her face as she saw me nod slowly. 

“Anyway, your grade! Okay you scared the highest in the class, and you got full marks. This isn’t anything new for you I'm sure, you’re a bright young woman. But, scoring this high in a test this hard, it opens doors for you. So, I’m here to offer you a chance to shadow me and the team for a week to see how we handle cases and what the job entails really. I also wanted to let you know that if you have any interest in joining the team I would accept you in a heartbeat. You’re a brilliant profiler.” Yet again for what feels like the millionth time today, heat rises to my cheeks. She stalks the way round her desk and stands in front of it. 

“That sounds amazing, oh my god, really?” A smile broke out on my face immediately. She looked pleased at my reaction and took a step closer. 

“Yeah of course really, why would I joke?” She laughed softly. I muttered a small ‘true’ and kept shamelessly checking her out as she still came closer to me and lowered her lips down to my ear and whispered, “Do I make you nervous darling? Is that why you get all shy whenever I’m around?” I nodded again while looking down, her hand found my chin and tilted it up. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” I felt a strange tingling in my lower stomach as she said that. 

I looked her in the eye and she bought me closer. “Is this okay?” she muttered, her breath fanning across my face due to the proximity. 

“Yes.” I breathed out. That was all the confirmation she needed to softly press her lips to mine. She held me like I might break at any minute, so tentative and caring it made my heart flutter. My hands found their way around my waist and I pulled her closer. She moved us around so now I was the one against the desk as she deepened the kiss, her tongue moving into my mouth. I instantly let her take control of the kiss and press her hips against mine. A small whine left my lips and I lent into her arms which were on my hips. 

She pulled away and looked into my eyes before whispering, just to me even though there was no one else there, “I don’t want this to just be a fling, just to make that clear.” I smiled wide and pecked her lips once more. 

“Neither do I.” She pulled me in again and we kissed with smiles on both of our faces. We knew we would have to be a secret for a while obviously but it didn’t stop me from fantasising about what was to come.

༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; emily prentiss x fem!reader

༉‧´ˎ˗ summary; Derek and Emily are the last to get back to the hotel. Derek kicks Emily out for the sake of his ‘beauty sleep’, and she’s left to have to share a room (and bed) with reader.

༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; bed sharing, cuddling, mention of emily’s nail biting habit.

༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 1.0k

cm masterlist ; main masterlist ; request guidelines ; inbox

The smile you give at her presence is a sweet one, though you do look a little dazed as you were just awoken from your slumber. It was a good dream you were having, snow flurries slowly falling on you, the world around you calm. Her knock was what had pulled you from that dream. Instead of lying on top of a cushion of thick snow, you woke up on the same stiff hotel mattress you fell asleep on as soon after you got back from the local police station.

“Em, wh-what are you doing here.. so late too?” you squint your eyes, vision still blurry and adjusting to the light coming from the hallway she stood in.

"I just drove back with Derek," the raven-haired woman sighs, one hand stuffed in the pocket of her pantsuit, the other holding onto the strap of her bag that's slung on her shoulder. She’s not able to contain her grin as she takes in your state, the sleep-mussed hair, plain grey sweatshirt, fuzzy heart patterned sleep shorts that are indeed very short, one sock missing. "Derek kicked me out of the room, made up some bullshit excuse about how he can't sleep properly with another person in the room and that if he doesn't get enough sleep, he'll be completely off his game tomorrow.”

“..and you want to sleep here?” Your voice is groggy and your eyes have just begun to adapt to the light. Those same eyes dart down to the bag she carries, and know it makes sense why she’s carrying it.

She nods.

“If it’s not too much of a burden, that is.”

“N-no, you’re never a burden.. come in.”

You open the door wider, gesturing with your arm for her to step inside. Emily’s eyes flicker from the inside of your hotel room back over to the door of the room she was supposed to stay in with Derek.

“Are you sure it’s fine?”

Before she even finishes getting her question out, you're nodding.

“Im sure.. and I’m also sure I’m very tired.”

She huffs, a barely there smile appearing on her lips at your whine, knowing that if you get too well adjusted to being back awake, you won’t be able to get any rest tonight. You shut the door behind her after she enters and watch through the darkness as she sets her bag down at the end of the bed and gets out her pajamas as well as a makeup wipe, hairbrush, and her toothbrush and paste.

You fish around under the sheets for that other sock, putting it on before climbing under the covers. You can hear her getting ready for bed, distant noise coming from behind the bathroom walls. It’s only another 7 minutes before she’s done and striding back out in her own set of pajamas, placing her toiletries back in her black bag.

“Thanks again,” she says in a hushed tone, slipping into bed next to you. The bed shifts, dipping slightly with the additional weight.

“It’s no problem.” Your voice is a barely there whisper, and you’re already close to drifting back to sleep.

Another few minutes of silence pass and you open your eyes back up, witnessing as she fidgets with her fingers above the comforter. You glance down at her fingers, silently inspecting her fingernails. Even though they’ve always looked chewed up, you can tell she’s bitten them quite recently, maybe even today.

You’d put two and two together the first time you met Emily when you originally joined the team and figured she had a habit of biting them. You were right, and she confirmed the suspicion a couple of months into knowing each other when she made an offhand comment about your nails when you came into work after getting a manicure that weekend about how well-kept your nails always were and about how if she didn’t have this nasty habit of biting hers, they could be that same way.

“Em..?” You whisper her nickname, breaking the silence.

“Hm?” She hums, stopping her fidgeting and turning her attention over to you.

“I thought you said you haden’t bitten your nails in a while..”

Emily goes quiet. Her memory takes her back to just a week prior, when she had told you her weekend went well, and that she hadn’t bitten her nails since that last Friday, 2 days. It’s been 11 days now, and it seems like she broke that streak.

“Yeah, I did.. This case has just been really stressful, for all of us I’m sure.”

You nod in agreement. You know that’s not the whole truth, and she can tell you know by it being clearly written on your face.

“I.. I’m not in the mood to talk about this right now.. sorry.”

“Well if you ever change your mind, and you do want to talk, you can talk to me if you’d like.”

Emily lets out a soft sigh, appreciating the understanding in your eyes. She shifts slightly in the bed, finding a comfortable position as she brings her arm closer to her chest, bringer her hand to her heart.

"Thank you," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. "It means a lot."

You offer her a gentle smile in return, your eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and empathy.

She takes this moment of calm between you as an opportunity to shimmy closer to you, hesitating slightly before draping her arm over you. “Is this alright?”

You answer her with a small nod, letting your eyes fall shut as you curl up into her. She rubs your back languidly, softly lulling you to back to sleep against her as she rests her head gently on your shoulder, the shoulder your hair is draped over, and moves her leg over yours, effectively spooning you beneath the covers.

“Goodnight, y/n.” She whispers beside your ear, and she can hear each soft breath you take and each beat of your heart with how close you are to her, no room between you, bare thighs pressed against her pajama bottom covered ones, her head right next to yours, pressing against the cozy material of your sweatshirt.

“Goodnight..” you mutter back, voice weak as you drift off.

the crossword can’t wait

pairing: alex blake x bau!reader

rating: m (18+ mdni)

genre: smut, romance

word count: 5.3k

summary: after a night out, alex surprises you in the bedroom delivering an unforgettable birthday present in the form of body worship

tags: bondage, ball gags, edging, orgasm denial, vibrators (internal/external)

You barely remember to lock the front door as you and Alex stumble inside, hands wandering and kisses landing clumsily as you both try and move through the hallways toward her bedroom.

She tastes like the glass of cabernet she’d had at dinner, smooth and sweet. “God, you taste so good,” you moan into her open mouth. You feel her pulse pounding in her neck as you cup your hand around the back of it, her brunette curls twisting around your fingers as you pull her against your body. The way her curves meld into your own sends a pulse of pleasure straight through your core.

Alex’s fingers fumble at your waist, working the buttons of your coat open. As she unclamps the last one, her hands smooth up and over your breasts before she pushes it over and off of your shoulders. Your nipples pique in response to her touch, slight as it may have been, and it’s evident as you’d chosen to go braless tonight under your satin shirt.

Alex’s brow arches in response as her coffee colored eyes flit across your features, searching.

“Alex,” you laugh and step behind her to help her out of her coat, your fingers trailing down the backs of her arms. You revel in the way your touch elicits goosebumps across her skin as the fabric glides over her elbows and slips off her wrists. As it drops to the floor in a puddle of fabric at her feet, you loop your arms around her waist and jerk her body back into yours. You nestle your chin into the crook of her neck, turning your face into her skin to inhale the floral perfume she’s wearing. You drag the tip of your nose up along the column of her throat, shifting just so your lips can brush against the length of her jawline before you pause to whisper in her ear. “You don’t need to be a profiler to see that I’m aroused by you, Agent Blake.” You annunciate her last name, making it two syllables to draw it out and drive your point home. You nip at her ear and a surprised yelp escapes her lips. That response stokes the flame burning inside of you and you grip her right wrist momentarily before interlocking your fingers and raising that arm above her head to twirl her into a position where she’s now facing you.

“Someone is feeling rather bold, aren’t we?” she asks, her tone deep and seductive as she regards you with a challenge in her eyes.

You say nothing, eyeing her coolly as your brow slowly arches in response and a smirk plays about your lips.

Alex steps toward you, her lips puckering as a look of horror washes over her face. “Oh my God,” we skipped dessert!”

“Well, I’m looking at something sweet I’d like to sink my teeth into.” Slipping your arms around her waist, you press your lips against hers before moving them to her neck, gently suckling at the base of her throat before peppering her skin with kisses.

She moans against your ear and you smile as your hand slides over the curve of her hip.

Alex’s hands press into your waist as she interrupts your exploration with a look of concern shining in her eyes. “I’m serious! It’s your birthday. I can’t believe I forgot to ask them to do something special at the restaurant.”

Your eyes sparkle mischievously. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me, won’t you?”

The concern in her gaze shifts suddenly, replaced by lust and an aim to deliver something more desirable and delicious than any dessert on any menu. She pushes into you, stepping forward and driving you into the wall, rattling the picture frames hung there.

“There she is,” you remark encouragingly and the next thing you know, Alex is all animal as she kisses you, her hands fisting into your hair as your tongues fight for dominance. You smile against her lips as you step forward, holding on to her hips and guiding her down the hall toward the bedroom; deepening your kisses as you do so.

As you reach around Alex to fumble for the doorknob, her fingers dance across your body to begin unbuttoning your blouse. The satin fabric glides off your shoulders as she undoes the top buttons, your nipples pebbling as the cool air conditioning brushes against your bare skin. You don’t miss the hungry expression that flits across Alex’s face as your body continues to respond to her touch.

The door to the bedroom swings open and Alex hooks her fingers into the belt loops of the wide legged black slacks you’re wearing, the silver fabric of your blouse no longer neatly tucked into place as she pulls you in an arc through the threshold. You both laugh as her lips rain down on yours. When she pushes you down onto the bed, your hair fans around you in a halo and you swear you’re looking up at an angel the way the lamp light illuminates her from behind.

She kicks off her heels before crawling up onto the bed to straddle you, the perfect round shape of her ass resting on your thighs. Unable to resist her, your hands slide around her hips and cup her ass in your hands. It takes no effort to heft her up and throw her off balance so she falls down over top of you, her breasts pressing against yours and her hair falling against your cheek. You stare into the depths of her caramel gaze and a hundred different emotions dance across her irises; the unmistakable allure of lust and the gleam of mischief, the flicker of excitement and purity of her love all reflecting back at you in them.

“I’m not a religious woman,” you say as you reach up and tuck her hair behind her ear, pausing to palm her cheek in your hand. “but I’m fairly certain I could spend an eternity worshiping your body and it wouldn’t be long enough.”

Alex’s brow furrows and her lips purse and a thin blush spreads across your cheeks as you wonder if that line was too corny. Before you can speak, Alex presses a finger to your lips, brow arched and a playful smile on her lips. “Worshiping your body was my plan for tonight, get your own.”

She leans over you, and the way her breasts press against your chest and neck makes your pussy throb in response. You nip at her breast through the fabric of her shirt as she pulls open the nightstand and retrieves something, the drawer only half closing as she sits up. Your eyes fall on the purple box in her hand.

“What’s this?” you ask eagerly.

Alex drops the box on the bed beside her and nudges it behind her with her foot.

“Overzealous, are we?” she asks coyly. She trails a finger down your neck and chest, pausing to circle your nipple before pinching it between her fingers. A hiss of pain and pleasure erupts from your lips as Alex chuckles in response before continuing down your body to your belt.

“You know I like to be in control,” you say breathlessly. God, she’s barely touched you and you're unraveling in the palm of her hand; a loose thread on a sweater. One tug from her and you come completely undone.

“Maybe I need to challenge that behavior?” Alex suggests, eyes filled with the promise of doing just that.

You arch your brow as you prop yourself up on your elbows. “Are you profiling me, Ms. Blake?”

Her eyes shift to pointed daggers as you deliberately use her incorrect title.

“That’s Doctor, Professor, or Agent,” she scolds and you smirk in response.

“Ooo, have I been a bad student, professor?” you taunt, purposefully getting under her skin now.

“I think you talk too much,” Alex says, voice tight, as she shifts off of you. “Take off your pants and get on your knees.”

Your eyes widen at her direct tone. Usually you’re the one giving orders in the bedroom, but the fierceness in which she delivers instructions gives you no choice but to follow her demands. You’re too curious now, and frankly, too fucking horny by this change in demeanor, to not follow through.

“Yes, doctor,” you hinge, unable to resist poking the bear. You don’t miss the breathy huff from Alex as she slides off the bed and disappears into the closet.

You kick off your platform heels, unfasten your belt, and shuffle out of your slacks, casting them over the side of the bed. Playing up the ignorance, you leave your partially unbuttoned shirt on since she said to only take off your pants. As you shift onto your knees, the silky fabric falls around your hips, but there is still easy access to your slick cunt through the crotchless lace underwear you’d purchased and worn specifically for tonight. Granted, you’d anticipated being the one in charge but God, the way Alex delivered orders to you made your thighs quake with anticipation of what she plans to do to you.

You wonder if she can feel your eyes devouring her decadent figure as she steps out of the closet with a black bag in hand, one you’re all too familiar with.

“The sex bag?”

Alex rolls her eyes, though a smile plays on her lips and she saunters up to the bedside and places it down. “I hate when you call it that.”

You scoff in response. “Is there a more linguistically appropriate term for a bag full of sex toys and BDSM gear?”

She sucks her lower lip between her teeth as she ponders that for a moment, and God you want to taste her. You want to be the one to pull her lips between your teeth, feel her moan in your mouth.

She pops her lips and you break free from the trance they’d held you in.

“Masturbatory aids.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up your throat as you roll your eyes. “Alex, please. Don’t make sex clinical. I can’t.”

Her brow arches toward her hairline as she regards you. “Oh, on the contrary darling. I know you can.”

You dont drop eye contact as she maneuvers around the gilded bed frame, tugging the bag alongside her as she does so.

“Eyes forward,” she commands and a shiver runs through you at the authoritative command you’ve only heard her use in the field. You hold her stare for a moment, challenging her only for a second longer than needed, before obeying and shifting your gaze to the art on the far wall.

You hear the zipper peel open and Alex rummaging around. You and her have experimented a lot, and your pussy throbs as you wonder what exactly she’ll pick out to tease you with.

The metal poles of your gilded bed frame rattle in response to her touch.

“Hands behind your back,” she orders and you do as you’re told without hesitation. The satin cords she winds around your wrist send a rush of goosebumps across your arms and you can’t fight the moan that slips past your lips as your cunt grows slick with the ever building arousal for the woman in control of you at that moment. Alex secures your wrists together before pulling the knot taught and your movement is restricted. You tug at them but there is no give and no slack.

“Ooo,” Alex coos quietly from behind you as you listen to the sound of her withdrawing something from the bag. “I think this will do.”

Before you can ask what it is, Alex drags the tip of a pink silicone vibrator across the inside of your thigh. Your thighs tremble and you fight the urge to sink down onto it as Alex touches the tip to your slick entrance. She edges the tip in ever so slightly before withdrawing it, the smooth silicon gliding easily as she smears your arousal down the length of your slit.

Your nipples harden to diamonds as her lips brush your ear. “See, how I’ve barely touched you and your cunt is already dripping for me?”

You duck your chin and her lips press against your jawline. “God, Alex,” you moan.

“Close, but not quite,” she muses in response.

She lines the vibrator up with your entrance and gently eases it inside of you, the tip disappearing in seconds as your pussy eagerly clamps around it. The two pronged arm of the vibrator touches against your clit and you cry out as it makes contact with the thousand sensitive nerve endings there.

“Fuck me,” you groan as the slight contact threatens to send you over the edge. She’s not even turned the vibrator in and you were nearly coming in her hand.

“Not yet,” Alex states resolutely. “Now that that’s in place, I’m going to need you to hold it there.”

Your brow pinches at her request. “Hold it? Alex, my hands are quite literally tied.”

“I don’t think I asked for sass, and more so, I don’t think I told you to speak. Now be quiet and bring your thighs together.”

You bite back a response and acquiesce her request, shuffling your knees closer together so that your thighs press on either side of the vibrator holding it in place. As you balance your weight, you feel the inserted arm shift against your g-spot and a groan rumbles deep in your throat as the external prongs press onto either side of your clit.

Alex steps to the front of the bed, hands clasped against her chest as she admires her handiwork. “Don’t you look stunning?” she asks, cheeks flushed and eyes hooded. She reaches for the box on the edge of the bed and smiles at you. “I think I'm going to change into something more comfortable.”

You nod hungrily, your mouth all but salivating at the thought of the number of things could be hidden inside that purple box. Nightgowns, teddies, satin, lace, Alex looked incredible in anything she wears. You shift and stifle a moan as you inadvertently strike your g-spot once more.

Alex points at you, her gaze just as sharp. “Stay still.” With that, she turns on her heel and disappears into the master bath.

The seconds tick by and minutes feel like hours when she finally re-emerges. Your heart stops, but the pounding of your pussy rages on as you take in the strappy latex and leather bustier clinging so perfectly to her figure as though it is a second skin. A web of straps criss-cross her waist and breasts, accentuating every curve of her body and hiding her nipples from view only just. A simple black lace thong covers her front, but leaves her apple shaped ass on full display. She smoothes her hands up and down her body, pausing to palm her breast and fluff her loose curls.

Without thinking, you jerk against your restraints; needing to touch her and feel her skin and her arousal. A whimper escapes your lips when your arms don’t budge from where they are pinned behind your back and you don’t miss the smirk and wicked glint in Alex’s eyes.

She saunters forward, one long leg in front of the other, taking her time to approach her prize. She skirts one finger along your jaw line and you bristle at her touch; the feel of her one fingertip sending a rush through your entire body. You’re entirely at her mercy and she knows it.

She leans down so that her lips are just barely hovering over yours as her fingers slide between your legs and presses a button that brings the vibrator to life. You cry out at the sudden stimulation and buck forward, your face landing on Alex's shoulder. Her throaty chuckle is muffled as you twitch against her and she casually loops an arm around your neck to hold you in place as the slow vibrations pulse around your clit and the internal prong gently thrusts against your g-spot.

Just as soon as it starts, it stops and you release a stunted cry as Alex suddenly withdraws from you, and you don’t know what you ache for more in that morning; the budding orgasm or her body against yours.

“What the—” your chest heaves as you fight to control your breathing. Alex is smiling a wicked smile and there’s a devilish gleam in her eye as she dangles a remote in front of you.

Immediately, you know her game. This is sweet revenge for her.

“Alex,” you say her name with a warning tone.

“Yes, darling?” she questions innocently, batting her long lashes.

“This is payback for the jet, isn’t it?”

Alex’s brow furrows as she places a finger on her chin, tap tapping away as she pretends to mull it over. After a moment, her eyes widen and mouth forms a perfect ‘o’ shape.

“Oh! You mean, when I had to fight to control my facial expressions and pretend I was coming down with a stomach bug after you chose my debrief with Hotch and Rossi to start playing games with the remote control vibrator?”

You smirk at the memory and the look in Alex’s eyes tells you she’s not actually angry. She’d orgasmed three times after excusing herself to the bathroom, and you’d done all that from a carefully concealed remote controller in your pocket. Watching her squirm and twitch and try to contain it and write off around the team had been so hot. The sex you’d had at the office after you’d gotten back from the airport had been some of the hottest sex you’d ever had in your life.

“Yeah, I think I remember something like that.”

One manicured eyebrow arches in response to your sass. Alex doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to power on the vibrator again. You buck forward, clamping your thighs even tighter around the vibrator to avoid dislodging it. Your binds are the only thing keeping you upright as the internal prong pulses slowly against your g-spot. For now; the external prong is quiet and still.

You moan and tightly speak her name as it drones agonizingly slow inside of you. Alex stands there, devouring your pleas.

“Yes, this seems about right.” Alex cocks her head, regarding you. After a moment, her head snaps up, a devilish look alighting her face as she rounds the bed to dig into the bag. “I wasn’t able to say anything on the jet,” she starts as the sound of objects shuffling around inside the bag rattle about. “I had to keep up the professional facade despite the fact I was coming undone by your hand. I had no choice but to keep quiet.”

Your body spasms again as the vibrator thrusts against your walls. “Alex,” you beg, feeling the first dredge of an orgasm blossoming deep within your belly.

Alex exhales an excited “ah ha” as she locates what she’s been searching for. The bed sinks beneath her weight as she clambers onto the bed behind you, jostling your position and causing the vibrator to shift inside you. You cry out as the sensation overwhelms you and you struggle to hold your legs closed. Suddenly, the movement stops and you exhale a ragged breath as your budding orgasm wilts and dies. One of Alex’s hands curves around your shoulder beneath the satin of your blouse. She smoothes her hand down across your chest and palms your breast with her hand, kneading it before tweaking your nipple between her fingers. “Close your eyes,” she breathes into your ear.

You do as you're told and turn your cheek to dip toward her lips, aching to feel them all over you. Her warm breath caresses the shell of your ear as she delivers her next instruction. “Open your mouth.”

Your eyes snap open and you meet her determined gaze. “I didn’t tell you to open your eyes. Close them,” she says slowly, “and open your mouth.” The way she enunciates each word sends a shiver through you as you obey, trusting her as you close your eyes and turn face forward, parting your lips for her as you do so.

After two pounding heartbeats, Alex pushes something into your mouth. It’s round and plastic and you immediately know what it is as you bite down and feel her fit the leather straps around your cheeks; the metallic sound of the buckle fastening ringing in your ears as a satisfied murmur leaves her lips. The straps are snug, but they don’t hurt as you adjust to the feeling of the ball gag.

“Remember when we bought that?” Alex asks, her voice tinged with nostalgia. “You can open your eyes now.”

Your pussy throbs and pulses and you ache to feel any form of release; hell, as you open your eyes and take in the sight of Alex in that outfit again you’re surprised you don’t combust right there and then.

You nod. You’d just gone on a date to see the latest Fifty Shades of Grey movie. It was a rainy Saturday and you’d figured it would give you something to do on the rare weekend you’d had off together. Nothing prepared you for how ridiculous the film would be and how inaccurately they’d depicted what true BDSM dynamics are supposed to look like. At that point, you and Alex had experimented with a few things, but never crossed the line into bondage and fetishism. After all, you’ve dealt with too many cases where aspects of the culture are perverted and used to harm. However, the movie probed a dialogue between you and Alex where you’d gotten a bit more analytical and clinical (probably not what the director thought would happen, but they probably didn’t anticipate their being FBI profilers in the audience), but it also sparked a desire to explore and play around in that uncharted territory.

As you and Alex toyed around the clandestine sex shop on the other side of town, picking up different gags and blindfolds, restraints and clamps, you’d throw out words like “experiment” and “research” laughing all the while knowing you were both out of your element. You’d purchased a number of different items, both of you pretending to be less awkward than you were as the college aged sales associate smirked at you knowingly before handing you your bags and receipt.

“Have fun you two!” she’d called after you both as the bell tinkled and you made your hasty exit, falling over one another and laughing as the rain poured down and you dashed to the car to get the hell out of there. Unsubs and the threat of bombs exploding in your face had made you both sweat less than the half hour you’d spent inside that store.

And now here you are, gift wrapped tightly and neatly presented for her enjoyment. All you are missing is a bow. Unable to speak around the gag in your mouth, you roll your shoulders back, the half undone button up falling over your shoulders as you do so, exposing your breasts in full. You smirk around the gag as you note the subtle shift in Alex’s eyes. She’s just as hungry for you as you are for her. Unwilling to let you get any advantage, Alex flicks on the vibrator. You gasp and cry out as the external arm vibrates around your clitoris and the internal arm begins thrusting once more; an unrelenting pounding against your inner walls. Instinctively, you press your legs together, but that only intensifies the sensation rather than assuages it.

Your breasts heave as you moan and curse around gag. Through heavily hooded eyes, you watch Alex move toward you, slowly placing one bare foot in front of the other as she regards you keenly over the bridge of her nose.

“Alex. Your plea is muffled around the gag in your mouth.

She leans in close to you, turning her ear toward your mouth as if that will help her hear better. “I’m sorry,” she purrs. “What’s that? I can’t quite make out what you’re saying.”

“Please,” you whimper and again your voice is garbled.

“Please what?” she hedges, her voice rife with lust. She turns toward you, eyes boring into yours with a desire so profound. “Would you like to come?”

You nod vigorously, your breasts bouncing as you do so. Alex nods, affirming that she understands. She says nothing, though her fingers flick against the remote she holds by her thigh and the speed intensifies, both internally and externally. Your eyes widen in response to the dual sensations and you swear you see stars as you blink. Regardless of how tightly you pull at the restraints, they don’t give. You know that you can end this at any time by opening your legs. With how wet you are the vibrator will easily slide out and fall onto the mattress. You and Alex always ensure that the other has a fail safe during these games. You’re committed to seeing this through though, to play into her hands until you are dripping through her fingers like melted putty. You want to melt for her, to burn for her. Your brow pinches as you feel the orgasm build, that familiar heat spreading across your lower abdomen like a freshly struck match ready to ignite a forest fire. You feel it burning brighter, hotter—you’re practically riding it as you keep your thighs clenched around it. Just as you feel like you’re about to explode, the vibrator cuts off and your orgasm sputters and dies; a flame snuffed out.

You release a wail of pain and pleasure combined as a line of spit dribbles out of the corner of your mouth from around the ball gag. Your rigid posture sags under the weight of her denial and as soon as you stop seeing double, you focus your attention on her wickedly devious gaze, her petal pink lips curved in a delicious grin.

“I think I want to enjoy you like this for a little while longer,” she says and tosses the remote onto the small end table beside her. Across from the bed are two simple chairs crafted of supple leather. It’s there you’ll often sit and read together at night or enjoy a glass of wine while you debrief about your respective work days (despite the fact that you work together.) You watch as Alex crosses the room, disappearing out of sight for a moment before returning to the space in front of you. She drops down into one of the chairs, exhaling a satisfied sigh as she crosses one long leg over the other. In her hands, she’s holding a well worn crossword puzzle book and a pen. She clicks it pointedly before flipping open the book and letting her attention fall to the page in front of her.

“Alex!” you bark around the gag.

Her brow furrows as she pays you no mind and reads aloud, “Ten across. Five letters. Clue is ‘strips for club.’” She taps the pen against her chin for a second before a smile dawns on her face. “Bacon! Jeez, don’t let Spencer know it took me more than three seconds to get that.” She laughs to herself as she scribbles the word into the narrow boxes.

Christ alive, she did not just mention Spencer Reid as if you were not in the middle of sex.

You make another sound of protest and Alex looks up at you, feigning surprise. “Sorry, honey, the crossword can’t wait!”

Narrowing your eyes at her, she smirks in response. “Oh alright, very well.” She leans forward to reach for the remote, the sight of her breasts pushing together against the straps of that bustier making your pussy throb even harder. The sensation starts up again, this time slow and steady. A delighted moan slips past your lips, albeit muffled around the gag, and Alex smiles contentedly. She returns to her puzzle, narrating the clues and answers as she goes. The continuous rhythm satiates you only for a minute or two though before you need more. Sensing this, Alex presses another button the remote, eyes not ever leaving the page as she scribbles another answer into place.

As the speed picks up and the thrusting arm pulses against your g-spot you begin to squirm; less in control of the sounds of pleasure emitting from your throat as in response to the dual stimulation.

It doesn’t take very long for that familiar pool of pleasure to start rippling deep inside your core. You desperately try to focus on it and bring it to the surface, but the dual rhythm wielding its relentless beat against your pleasure centers has your head spinning.

The whimpers and cries rumbling past your lips are nearly animal-like as your orgasm crests, a wave pulling back from the shore only to double in size before crashing once more. A tear leaks from your eyes as you crack them open. Alex is looking at you, the crossword puzzle abandoned in her lap as she regards you with such fervor. It’s all you need to give into the wave as it crashes down over you, drowning you in its thrashing current as it rattles its way from the roots of your hair to the tips of your toes.Your pulse thunders in your ears as you ride it out, crying out to God and Alex and any other deity you can praise for worshiping your body enough to rend pleasure from it in such a way.

Like a marionette doll with its strings cut, your arms drop suddenly as Alex loosens the ropes from the bed frame; her fingers making deft work at the knots around your wrists. Her hand smooths over your face before she unlatches the buckle at the back of your hair, and the ball gag falls from your mouth and hits the mattress with a dull thud. Her fingers slip between your thighs, wrapping around the base of the vibrator. “You did good, baby,” she whispers in your ear. “Go ahead and let go.”

You relax your thighs and let Alex withdraw the vibrator, a quiet groan escaping you as she does so. Alex places it on the nightstand and gently loops her arms around your waist. As you finally come back down to this plane of reality, the full body exhaustion slams into you and you sag into Alex’s waiting arms.

“Alex, babe,” you huff out a breath and nuzzle into her chest. “That was—”

“Was it too much?” Alex asks, a tinge of embarrassment creeping into her voice.

“Too much?” you balk. “Not in the slightest. You were perfect.”

Alex smiles, the pink blush creeping across her cheeks betraying her performance as a bewitchingly dominating vixen. Her nose scrunches as she speaks. “I was kinda badass, wasn’t I?”

You press a kiss to her jawline before settling back against the curve of her body, eyes closing softly as the lull of sleep calls to you.

“Hey,” Alex laughs as she nudges you gently with her arm. “No sleeping yet. Come on, let me clean you up.”

You murmur some semblance of protest, but let Alex pull you to your feet and guide you to the bathroom where she cranks on the shower to the perfectly warm temperature. She unbuttons the rest of your shirt and casts it aside before stripping down herself and leading you into the shower, where she sits on the bench carved into the marble patterned shower wall and guides you down onto her lap. The wash cloth is soft as she cleans your body, careful and gentle as she moves it between your thighs, minding the extra sensitive area. Her fingers massage your scalp as she lathers shampoo into your hair, all the while murmuring about how much she cares for you and peppering your face with soft kisses.

Dried and lying atop the sheets, she pumps lotion into her hands and massages it into your wrists before pulling the duvet up and over your bodies. As you curl into the comfort of her body, your mouth searches for hers in the dark. After kissing her you whisper her name as you slip your fingers between hers.

“Alex?”

“Yes, love?”

“This was the best birthday.”

“Hmm,” Alex muses thoughtfully, and you feel her smile against your cheek. “I guess I’ll have to try harder next year.”

Cherry lips l emily prentiss x reader

Tags: fluff, first kiss, getting together, r has a lip peeling problem (bc I do too), teeny tiny mention of blood (from the lip peeling), no use of yn

Summary: Tired of seeing you pick at your lips, Emily gives you some lip balm. That proves to be a mistake.

Word count: 1.5k

“Here.” Emily throws a stick of lip balm at you. 

It falls on your lap and you give her a confused frown. She barely holds back an eye roll; your fingers are currently pinching a rough patch of skin on your lip—the rest is already peeled off—and when you drop your hand to pick up the chapstick, she catches a smear of blood on your thumbnail.

It really is such a shame. 

You have the most beautiful lips; kissable and soft looking and she’s so often gripped with the urge to lean forward and press her own to yours, test out that softness for herself.

But you have a bad habit—you pick at them constantly, your nails catching on rough skin and peeling it off, leaving behind bright red marks that are sometimes painful to look at. It doesn’t make you any less beautiful to her—god, she wished it did—but sometimes she takes pity on those poor lips of yours. And when she was shopping for some mid-week groceries last night, she couldn’t help but toss the chapstick in her cart.

She won’t be thinking too hard about why she did that.

“Really?” You ask, turning the chapstick over between your fingers, biting your lips to hold back a smile.

Emily’s heart trips when you look up at her with a quirk of your brow; she’s usually good at reading you, but right now she can’t tell if you’re amused or exasperated.

“Since you obviously don’t own one,” she quips, sitting down on the edge of your desk. You roll your eyes and run your thumb over the plastic tube, your nail dragging over the white lettering on the side.

Cherry.

Emily definitely didn’t choose that because it’s her favorite, and she most definitely didn’t choose it because she wants to see how that shade of red would look on your lips.

“I do,” you scoff, unthinkingly bringing your other hand to your mouth. Emily grimaces as you start tearing at the skin, insistent on peeling it off.

“Hey, stop that,” she swats at your hand. You frown as your hand drops to your lap. “Put some Vaseline on or something,” she says, her brow creasing at the blood slowly blooming on your lip, “or some of that chapstick you definitely own.”

She looks at you expectantly and you huff. “Smartass.” You mutter as she turns and snatches a tissue from Reid’s desk.

Emily arches her brow as she extends it to you. “Thank you, Emily, for giving me something I so desperately needed. Oh, no problem, it was my pleasure, really—”

You laugh as you take the tissue from her and press it to your bottom lip, wiping away the little smidge of blood. 

“Thank you, Emily.” You say sincerely, looking up at her through your lashes. “I really, really appreciate you giving me this lip balm and I promise to use it till it runs out.” You vow, your voice silky smooth, fingers wrapped around the chapstick as you hold it to your heart.

Emily’s heart stumbles once more. Do you know the effect you have on her? Sometimes she thinks you do, with the way you flirt with her, but other times you drip with genuine innocence, your smiles nothing but friendly.

“Whatever,” she murmurs, her booted toe lightly hitting yours. You smile and uncap the lip balm, twisting it to reveal a stick of deep red, almost burgundy. 

She almost stops breathing when you turn to the tiny mirror on your desk and start applying it, your lips quickly tinting red, the uneven splotches of recently peeled skin disappearing. You trace it over your skin and smooth your lips together when you’re done, spreading the balm evenly before you turn back to her.

“Good?” You ask as you cap the chapstick and slip it into your pocket. Something in her grows warm at the thought of you carrying it with you. She wonders if it’ll find its way onto your nightstand tonight, if it’ll be hidden in the pocket of one of your blazers tomorrow.

Emily almost laughs at the question. Her eyes drop to your lips, just to check, as if she hadn’t been ogling them while you’ve been turned away. She can still see the edge of the rough skin you were picking at, but it’s mostly hidden beneath the red. She has to tear her eyes from your lips, still ever so perfect.

Kissable. 

“Good,” she agrees, inclining her head in a nod. “I sincerely hope you’ll keep using it.” Her voice turns sickly sweet as she smiles, dimples curving in her cheeks. Your eyes brighten at the shift in her tone.

Grinning, you rest your chin on your palm. “Aw, you wanna kiss me that bad, Prentiss?” You tease. 

She laughs breathily, the sound a little choked if you listen properly. You have no idea.

“Just don’t want those lips to scare anyone away, hon,” she taps your nose and slides off your desk, grinning when you flip her off.

She settles back into her own desk and looks across at you, her heart warming at the light blush on your cheeks, a similar pink to your lips.

“Screw you, Emily,” you grumble, but you’re not fooling anyone with your poorly hidden smile.

She winks at you. “You’ll thank me later.”

----

It’s possibly the worst mistake she’s ever made.

Ever since she handed you the lip balm, you’ve been diligently applying it. Your lips are no longer cracked or dry; they’re plump and healed, shining with a subtle pink sheen, veering into red from the lip balm.

It goes without saying that work has become infinitely harder. She can’t focus when she sees the imprint of your lips on your coffee mug, a red kiss on the rim after you tip your drink back. When you pull out the chapstick in front of her she goes blank, her eyes zeroing in on the smooth, impossibly softer looking skin of your lips.

It only takes a week before her mind inevitably slips and exposes her.

You’re smoothing your hair in the bathroom when she walks in, also intent on touching up her appearance before delivering the profile. Your gaze slides to her and you smile, those perfect lips of yours turning up at the sight of her.

“Hey,” you say as she approaches, but she’s not listening. You’re turning over the chapstick between your fingers, the sheen on your lips telling her it’s freshly applied.

Emily doesn’t return your greeting. Her gaze drops to your mouth as she steps in close, closer than she realizes. 

“Your lips look good,” she says quietly. 

Your brows lift and immediately she feels her stomach drop, a flush rising up her cheeks. “Better,” she amends, her words breathless with embarrassment, “they look better. Than before. Not chapped.”

She really should stop talking. Her mouth snaps shut as her cheeks start to flame. She should stop looking at you, she thinks as your gaze drags over her. Your eyes linger on the pink tint of her pale cheeks, her widened eyes, the flush crawling up her jaw. She swallows and your eyes track that, too, making her body heat.

Emily sees the exact moment something shifts in your expression, as if you’ve come to a decision. Absently, you rub your smooth lips together. Absently, her eyes fall to them.

“They look good, huh?” You tilt your head. You take a few steps and close the miniscule distance between you two. Her chest presses into yours; she breathes in sharply. 

“You know what, Em?” You murmur, your eyes locked on hers in a way that makes her feel dizzy. “They feel even better.”

Emily’s heart races as you slip the lip balm back into your pocket. When you lean in impossibly closer and place your hand on her cheek, she stops breathing entirely.

“We’ve been playing this game for a while,” you say, your thumb stroking the soft skin of her cheek. She leans her face into your hand, chasing your touch. You smile.

“But it’s not a game, is it, Em?”

God, when you say her name like that. When you say Em and not Emily, when you let the syllables roll around on your tongue, when you say it lazily, carefully, as if you have all the time in the world.

Her hand finds your waist. She smiles a little, through her racing heart. “No,” she agrees softly. “It’s not.”

Your skin is warm through your clothes. She hears the soft hitch in your breath, the way your skin caves beneath her touch.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

Emily laughs, soft and a little breathless. “Please,” she twists her fingers into your shirt, feels the material slip against her skin.

When you finally kiss her, she tastes cherries.

*I didn’t expect to write this so quickly after the first one but inspiration struck and I ran with it haha. I hope you enjoyed <33 I’d possibly like to write more for em, so if you’ve got any requests, pop in my inbox and let me know!

Bloody mishaps l emily prentiss x reader

Tags: fluff, use of petnames however r and em are not together—they're just flirty like that, periods, emily is a knight in shining armor (save me emily prentiss)

Summary: You get your period at work. Salvation comes in the form of emily prentiss

Word count: 1.4k

A throbbing headache pulses at your temples and you groan, closing your eyes against the list of potential suspects Hotch assigned you and Emily to go through. 

Her gaze snaps to you and she frowns. “You okay, hon?” 

Her usual nickname for you doesn’t even stir any butterflies this time, not with your aching head.

“No,” you mumble miserably, pushing off your chair and standing up to go make yourself some tea. “It’s like someone took a hammer to my head.” The edge of your voice is tinged with a whine as you walk out of the empty conference room, looking for the kitchenette.

Emily jumps up from her chair and stops you before you walk out into the hall. Her hand is suddenly on your stomach, nudging you back against her, into the conference room.

“Wh—”

“Don’t panic, but I’m pretty sure you just started your period.” She says quietly into your ear, bringing you back into the threshold of the conference room. 

Your body freezes up. 

“What?” You breathe, your stomach dropping as she lets go of you and shuts the door. Emily shrugs off her blazer, her eyes sympathetic as she comes closer and swings it around your waist.

“Our go bags are still in the SUV, I’ll go grab you some change, yeah?” Her voice is low and soothing, but your muscles are locked tight with tension. 

“Em,” your voice trembles in unison with your shaking hands. It’s natural, nothing to be embarrassed about, you’ve told yourself a million times. Yet shame heats your cheeks.

“Shh,” she murmurs, hands gentle as she ties her blazer around your waist. “I got you, okay? Don’t panic.”

Her words do nothing to soothe you. You’re still frozen in mortification as she opens the door and leads you out, her hand gentle on your arm all the way to the bathroom. You follow her mindlessly, feet thudding after hers as you drown in your thoughts.

How did this happen? you think deliriously. You always know when your period’s coming, you’re always prepared for this. You don’t register Emily pushing you into the bathroom and locking the door behind her.

“I don’t—I’m usually prepared—” You stumble over your words, your cheeks flaming and hot. When you swallow, your throat is dry. “I’m always prepared,” you say desperately, trying to explain yourself even though there’s nothing to explain.

Emily frowns as your chest caves, your breathing panicked and loud in the silence of the bathroom. “Hey,” she grabs your hands in both of hers. They’re cold, but her grip is tight. Your eyes snap to hers and you’re met with warm, steady brown. “It’s okay. These things happen.” She soothes.

A weak scoff slips past your lips. “When you’re thirteen and getting it for the first time.”

You still don’t know why you’re reacting so hard, throat dry and heart racing. It’s fine, you tell yourself. Nobody saw. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s f—

“When you’re any age.” Emily says firmly, cutting off your spiral. “Getting used to it doesn’t mean it doesn’t come unexpectedly sometimes.” 

She tightens her hold on your hands. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, okay?” Her voice softens as she rubs her thumbs over your knuckles.

The logical part of your brain knows she’s right. You jerk your head in a close imitation of a nod and her lips tip up in a smile, ever so patient.

“I have some pads in my purse,” she tells you, impossibly softer, her hands squeezing soothingly around yours. “Are you fine with pads?” She speaks slowly, gently, her voice low and warm, as if she’s calming down a skittish child. “I could ask JJ if she has tampons—”

“Pads are fine.” You interrupt.

Emily nods. “Okay. I’ll go get those and I’ll grab you some change from your go bag, okay? You get in there,” she tilts her head to the stalls behind you.

You blow out a breath and nod, the tight knot in your chest loosening. Emily’s here. She’ll help; she always does. “Thank you,” you whisper, your eyes glazing with irrational tears.

Emily squeezes your hands, her smile warm. “’Course, honey. I won’t be long.” She releases your hands and pushes you to the stall with a gentle force in her fingertips.

You shut yourself inside it and quickly untie her blazer, your cheeks heating again at the thought of staining it. Luckily the dark blue fabric is unmarred, so you hang it on the hook and tap your foot on the floor, too jittery to sit down.

Your stomach cramps and you scoff at the late reminder, crossing your arms over your stomach and leaning your head against the wall. The headache makes sense now, you think bitterly. It’s somehow the only symptom you clocked, your aching back and stomach falling through the cracks. You’re quietly cursing yourself again when the door to the bathroom creaks open and shut.

Emily knocks on your stall. “Y/N?” She murmurs.

You open the door and find yourself startlingly close to deep, coffee brown eyes. She gives you a quick, reassuring smile before digging into the purse she’s carrying. It’s fit to burst; a pair of your pants are rolled up and stuffed into it hastily, the material catching a little on the zipper of her bag.

She takes them out like it’s nothing and you feel your heart burst in your chest. “These good?” Emily asks, extending the pants to you. 

She looks genuinely concerned, her brow slightly creased, as if she’s ready to go back to the car and grab another pair if you say no.

“Perfect,” you choke out, taking them and the pads she hands you. Her hands linger against yours and though they’re still cold, you want nothing more than to hold them again. 

Unfortunately, you have more pressing concerns at the moment. 

“Thanks, Em.” You rush out, barely catching her responding hum before you shut the door again. 

Sorting yourself takes a while, but when you walk out of the stall, Emily’s blazer in one hand and your stained clothes tucked under your arm, you find her still there.

The small smile she gives you disappears when you hold out her jacket. “No, keep it,” she pushes your hand into your chest, forcing the jacket away from her.

Keep it? You swallow down the heartbeat in your throat.

“Emily it’s fine, I don’t need it anymore,” you frown and try to hand it back.

“Honey,” she sighs and takes the jacket from your loose grip. This time you do feel your stomach flip at the nickname, your skin growing warm.

Emily moves closer to you and drapes her jacket over your clothes. “To cover these,” she murmurs, adjusting the fabric so it obscures the pants. “Isn’t that better?” She looks at you, her dark eyes boring into yours.

“Oh.” You breathe. “Right, yeah, thanks,” you mumble, cheeks flaming, but not from embarrassment this time. Her perfume hangs softly in the air, travels into your lungs when you breathe in. Her lips quirk up in a smile, soft and gentle and everything she usually isn’t at work.

Silence hangs between you two. You don’t know what to say, so you say the most obvious thing. “Thank you, Emily. Really.” You repeat. How many times have you said that already?

“Stop thanking me,” she chides softly, her hand coming to rest on your elbow. She squeezes lightly, “You’d do the same for me.”

And you would. 

She pretends to need something from the car and you pretend to believe her, smiling at her when she comes up beside you, empty handed, after you dump your clothes back in your bag.

“Didn’t find what you needed?” You ask, extending the blazer to her. She takes it this time.

Emily shrugs. “Must’ve left it in the other car,” she says breezily, hooking her fingers in the collar of her blazer and swinging it over her shoulder.

She nudges you and you trudge back to the precinct. “C’mon, hon. I don’t think Hotch’ll appreciate our tardiness when he comes back. Period or no period.”

You sigh. “You couldn’t have even waited an hour?” You shake your head, pretending to disapprove.

Emily loops her free arm through yours. “You were never in any danger as long as I was there,” she says lightly, but you both know it’s true.

Her arm is warm against yours, her skin like silk. You tighten your grip on her. “Let’s hope you’re always here, then.”

*Reblogs and comments mean the world 🫶🏼 if you liked this lmk what you think!!🩷

clothes-emily prentiss x fem!reader

summary: a slow morning with Emily when you've just started dating tw: make out, no smut, just domestic fluff w Emily A/n: i was just in the mood for a little drable, what can i say

You feel a paw lightly patting your face, the soft fur tickling your nose

"Serge, please, 5 minutes" you groan at the cat that has already set on your pillow, wrapping himself in a little black ball, you'd find it incredibly cute hadn't he just woken you up an hour before your alarm went off.

You decide it's a lost battle and move to leave him occupy your pillow, burying your face on the other one, it smells like Emily's shampoo.

The woman feels your body pressing against hers, and she turns around to meet your face, her naked body pressing against yours closer now.

Her eyes still closed, she's still half asleep but she gives you a soft peck on your lips "mh-morning" she mutters.

Her silky black hair tickles your face, but you don't move, you let it cover your forehead and you inhale the scent.

"why doesn't he wake you up? he's technically your son"

"because you spoil him too much" she twists around trying to grab part of the sheet falling off the bed due to last night's activities.

Her nose scrunches in comfort, you think it's adorable and can't help but to kiss it. She barely reacts, which makes you think she's probably still too asleep to correspond.

Last night had been your 3rd real date with Emily, the familiarity you already felt being the result of the time you had spent being "just friends" until you finally gave in on your attraction to each other. You wouldn't have it any other way.

It had been Emily's turn for last night's date, after getting back from work, she cooked, opened a bottle of wine, and you ended the night making out in the coach, and the bed, and the shower, and then the bed again. You felt exhausted in the most perfect way.

"so what, i give him a little too many him treats, he deserves them" you sigh, giving up on sleep coming back to you.

You stand up, unwrapping your body from Emily's strong grip around your waist, she whines, but ends up giving it up and wrapping herself around the pillow.

You scratch Sergio behind the ears, and move to pick up something to put on so you can go make breakfast

you grab the blue shirt that she wore yesterday, and a pair of her boxers, both were laying on the floor, scattered around along with the rest of both your clothes.

You follow the trail that was left on the corridor, you find your pants and Emily's, your bra, your shirt, all the way to the living room. You pick them up, leaving them on the couch, then following to the kitchen.

You secure your headphones in your ears and pull up a favorite playlist. Coffee percolating. Music going. You hum along and gather the ingredients you need to make pancakes, the easiest recipe you could ever memorize.

You crack the eggs carefully, making sure no shells fall into the mixture, you swing around to the music in your ears, dancing to it as you cook.

One by one, the stack of pancakes gets bigger until you run out of mix, you sip on your coffee, turning around to set the table, but when you do, you jump.

"Jesus!" Emily leans on the wall, she watches you with a grin on her face "How long have you been standing there? You almost killed me"

"just enough, are you making pancakes?" she asks, you can't help but to feel embarrassed, she says she's been there enough, which probably means she's seen all your musical number, at least most of it

"Yes, you can get this there until I'm done here" you tell her, turning around to finish up, but instead of doing what you asked, she comes around you, wrapping her arms around your waist, hugging you from behind.

"you smell so nice" she whispers, her head rests on your shoulder, she kisses you there, and on your neck, leaves a trail of small, sweet kisses along your shoulder.

Her hands caress your waist, "you’re wearing my shirt" she says, pressing her lips against your pulse point which makes you chuckle "i am" you say.

Her fingers slowly brushing the bare skin behind her boxers "and my boxers" she nibs at the soft skin on your neck, the smile on your face doesn't fade, you turn to face her, surrounding her neck with your arms

"do you mind? that- that i wear your clothes- I mean"

"no, no, of course not" her hand moves to take a couple of hair strands off your face, placing them behind your hear in a loving gesture

"in fact- you look really good in my clothes" the bright smile on her face turns into a devilish one

her lips crash against yours, lips and tongue, the wetness in her soft lips making you groan on her mouth, she swallows your sounds, her hand grabs your face, yours wrapping around her waist, gripping the flesh.

You separate you lips from hers to much of your distaste "let me just finish this ok? can you wait just a second?" you ask, but she doesn't let go off you, her hands on your waist lower to get your ass, giving a light squeeze

“Maybe. We’ll see,” Emily chuckles, the intensity of her kisses and touches increasing now, tugging you back into her chest. Emily kisses the side of your head, and groans about having to wait to have you.

You finish all up as fast as you can, trying to ignore the woman-koala that's wrapped around your waist, kissing your shoulder where the shirt keeps falling off.

"ok, I'm all yours now, try not to burn me, the stove is still warm" she lets out a devilish laugh

“mh, I like how that sounds, mine”

she loves hearing you’re hers, and you know it. She bites at your earlobe possessively.

she presses you into the counter, her kisses get heavier, hotter, deeper. "Ems-" you say breathlessly "mh?" she asks, her lips back onto yours.

"don't start something you can't finish" you say taking a moment to get away from her lips, but she's back at it in no time

"who says i'm not finishing this?"

Before you can even react, she lifts you up to the counter, you wrap your legs around her waist, your ankles pressing on her ass.

"I let you in my pants a couple of times and now it's all you can think about, who would've said SSA Prentiss was such a needy woman" you joke, her lips still kissing your neck, she snatches at you and kisses you again, biting your lip a little harder than usual

"well, i guess i just can't get enough of you" her lips crashing against yours once more "you're just lucky you're so cute, or i wouldn't let you get away with something like that"

Her words have an immediate effect on you, making you whine aloud "oh, please, don't let me get away with it"

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

I can write a thousand of this if you like them! I’m a sucker for intimacy and domestic Emily!!!! 😭😭😭

Like and reblog <3

Hi!!! I love your Amelia and Emily fics so much, I’ve basically binged them 😂 I was wondering if I could request an Amelia x reader fic where maybe reader is like 6 months pregnant with her and Amelia’s first child and has a bad history with her dad and her dad comes into the hospital with his new wife and her kid and it just stirs bad feelings for reader and Amelia comforts her? Maybe autistic reader? Thank you so much!

Thank you so much! 💕 I'm so, so glad you enjoy them! Also, thanks especially for an autistic!reader request, they're some of my favorites to write! Hope you enjoy! – illdowhatiwantthanks

The R Word

Amelia Shepherd x fem!autistic!reader Warnings: autism struggles, ableism, use of ableist slurs, overstimulation (the autism kind, not the sex kind), explicit language, pregnancy times (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: It's a typical day working with a child in the ER when your estranged father shows up and makes you feel just as small and stupid and alien as he did when you were growing up. Amelia is there to comfort you and remind you of who you really are.

“No, Mommy!” the little girl wailed as she writhed on the hospital bed. “I want to go home!”

Her mom looked at you apologetically as she tried to soothe her child. You needed to get her vitals. Based on the mom’s description, you also probably needed to get IV fluids and an antiemetic in her. But you knew that wasn’t going to happen while the kid felt scared and overwhelmed. This wasn’t your first rodeo with kids in the ER. In fact, the other ER nurses often called you over when kids were difficult to work with. They called you the “bad kid whisperer.”

You knew better. They weren’t bad kids. They were usually just scared. There was a lot to be scared of at a hospital. And you were good with them because you understood better than most what it was like for your body and brain to feel so overwhelmed that you could no longer regulate your emotions. Being autistic was hard sometimes, it made you stand out, but this was a place where it made you stand out in a good way.

You lifted your hands to show the little girl that you were setting down all your medical instruments.

“It’s okay,” you said quietly, pulling the curtain closed around the bed. Sometimes making the space smaller helped. You bent down to her height, careful to keep your distance and not to touch her.

“I’m Y/N,” you said. “What’s your name?”

The girl didn’t answer, shaking as she sobbed.

You nodded. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk right now. Do you feel like you can’t breathe or anything?”

The girl shook her head.

“Good. Then all this other stuff can wait, okay? I’m not gonna touch you. No needles, no thermometer, no heartbeat or anything until you feel a little calmer. We can wait.”

She seemed to calm down a bit when she realized you weren’t going to make her do anything, her sobs subsiding to the occasionally aggressive sniffle.

“Here,” you offered, pulling a tiny tech deck skateboard out of the pocket of your scrubs. “Sometimes when I’m scared or nervous, having something to do with my hands makes me feel better.” You rolled the skateboard toward her, and she started running it across the rails of the hospital bed, her breathing starting to calm.

“Better?” you asked.

She nodded.

You started taking her vitals and continued the conversation. “You think you can tell me your name now?”

“Maddy,” she whispered.

You smiled even as you read her temperature: 103.4. Pretty high. She was almost certainly dehydrated. “That’s a really cool name. Now, do you know why your mom brought you here?”

“I threw up,” she told you, lip quivering.

“Oh, man,” you commiserated. “That’s the worst. I hate throwing up.”

Maddy nodded.

“Did you throw up just one time or a lot of times?”

“A lot.”

You exchanged glances with the mom to make sure this information was accurate.

“She can’t keep anything down,” the mom worried, biting her nails.

“Okay. Well, that’s okay. We’re gonna help you feel better. First, we’re gonna get some fluids in you. Do you know what that means?”

She shook her head as you gathered the supplies and pulled on gloves.

“It means your tummy is so sick that when you drink water, it all just comes right back out. And that’s not good because your body needs water. Your heart and your lungs and all the things that make you healthy and strong, they need water. So since you can’t swallow it, we’re gonna put a little tube in your arm and send water through the tube. That way your body gets the water it needs. And we’ll send medicine and electrolytes and all kinds of other good stuff to fight the sickness, too. It’s like we’re sneaking weapons past the sick.”

This explanation seemed to cheer her up a bit. “Like a secret mission?” she asked.

You nodded conspiratorially. “Exactly like a secret mission. But to get all that good stuff in there, we’re gonna have to put a needle in your arm. Just for a second! It makes the path for the supplies to go in.”

Maddy seemed to think deeply about this, then nodded. You had her play with the skateboard while you placed the IV line, ensuring that she was comfortably positioned for a good hour or so of fluid intake.

“Thank you,” her mom mouthed to you, and you gave her a quick thumbs up before adding a few reminders to your chart–what to check in the next hour, etc.

Maddy, now calmer, took a good look at you for the first time, from your glasses to your fingers that twitched by your ears, to your stomach that protruded out past your waistline–you were six months pregnant.

“Why are you so fat?” Maddy blurted out.

“Madeline Grace!” her mom hissed.

“It’s okay,” you laughed. “My tummy looks like this because there’s a baby in there. But some tummies are just bigger than others, too, and that’s okay. All tummies are good tummies.”

“Where’s the daddy?” she asked, reaching out to brush her hand over your stomach.

“No daddy,” you explained. “This baby has two mommies. His other mommy works upstairs. On brains.”

“Brains!?” she squealed.

You nodded. “Yeah. She’s pretty cool.”

Just then, the relative calm of a midday ER was interrupted by a loud, brash voice, bursting through the doors, yelling at the nurses at the station.

“Where the fuck is my daughter!? Middle of the fucking work day. Unbelievable. Am I going to fast for you? Read my lips, sweetheart. Madeline. McCallan.”

You froze, any icy stream of panic running from the back of your neck all the way down to your heels. You’d know that voice anywhere. It was an angry voice, a coach’s voice, the voice that had yelled at you to “stay the fuck in the bleachers” when all you wanted was to sit in the car and breathe. The same voice that growled at you to stop “doing that shit with your hands, you look like a r*tard.” The same voice that told you over and over that you weren’t “stupid enough to be on the short bus,” but you were “too stupid to function in real life.”

You felt your brain start swirling, felt panic building in your chest. You knew he’d gotten remarried, of course you knew. But you didn’t talk to him, hadn’t talked to him in nearly a decade. You knew they’d had a kid, but you didn’t know it was this kid.

All the ER noises, the beeps of the machines, the buzzing of the overhead lights–were they getting brighter?–the clang of instruments being set down, wails, conversations, and above it all your dad’s voice. Your dad’s voice. It was too much. It was all way, way too much.

You felt your hands start to shake at your sides, your body swinging back and forth, and you had to stop. You had to stop. Your dad would kill you.

He threw back the curtain, and his jaw dropped when he saw you.

“You!?” he spat, looking down. “Are you pregnant!?”

Maddy seemed oblivious to the tension. “Daddy!” she called. “Her name is Y/N and she gave me this little skateboard and the water is fighting the sickness through my tubes and she has a baby in her tummy and the baby’s other mommy fixes brains.”

You tried so hard not to stim, but it was not working. 

“Don’t tell me you’re a nurse?! God, it’s a miracle you didn’t fucking stab her. You shouldn’t be holding any needles with those flappy arms. Probably shouldn’t be holding any babies either.” He shot out his hand and grabbed Teddy’s arm, which was wild to you. The audacity of the man to assume he had the authority to bother the trauma surgeon. “Yeah, honey, we need a different nurse over here. This one’s a r*tard.”

Teddy looked flabbergasted and deeply offended, but also concerned, as you clenched your teeth, hugging yourself, twisting your body back and forth. “It’s doctor, sir, and that word is not welcome at Grey-Sloan. Y/N is a perfectly capable medical professional. In fact, she’s one of our best, especially with kids.”

“I don’t know if you know this, but I feel like it’s my responsibility to tell you,” your dad whispered loudly to Teddy. “She’s got autism. She shouldn’t be handling tools or people or anything.”

Teddy pressed her lips together in frustration. “As I said, sir,” she repeated more forcefully. “Y/N is a perfectly capable medical professional, and we’re lucky to have her. But I’ll get another nurse over here for you. Y/N?”

Teddy beckoned you over, careful not to touch you, and led you to a quieter corner of the room.

“Who the fuck is that guy?!” she asked.

“M-my dad,” you stuttered. Everything in the room–sounds, lights, smells, all of it–seemed to be crashing over you again and again. As if you’d been knocked over by a wave and couldn’t get back up again because they just kept coming.

“You want to hang out in one of the on-call rooms for a bit?” Teddy suggested.

You nodded.

“Should I page Amelia?”

You shook your head. “She’s in surgery.”

Teddy pulled out her tablet to look. “I mean, we could just check.”

“Don’t bother her,” you repeated. “She’s got work to do. I’ll be okay.”

You made your way to the elevator and up to an on-call room, breathing heavily when you shut the door against the rest of the hospital. You turned off the lights, curling into a corner of the bottom bunk and pulling your knees up to your chest–or as close to your chest as they could get with your baby bump in the way.

You rocked yourself back and forth, thoughts spiraling. The movement and the dark usually calmed you down, but you were having a hard time regulating today, and nothing seemed to be working. Your breath just got faster and faster. And the fact that you couldn’t get yourself out of your spiral only made you spiral more.

You knew you were a good nurse. You knew that. You knew because you’d done it. But you hadn’t ever been a mom before. What if he was right? What if the baby made you overstimulated and you yelled or lashed out? What if the baby went to school and you went to parent nights and he was embarrassed of you, of how you couldn’t make eye contact and didn’t start conversations right and didn’t get the jokes. What if being autistic made you a bad mom?

You had tears streaming down your face by the time you heard a light knock on the door. It creaked open and Amelia’s head popped in. When she saw it was you, she quickly let herself in and locked the door.

“Oh, babe,” she said, watching your body rock back and forth in huge, aggressive sweeps. “A bad one, huh?”

“Go away, Amelia,” you hiccuped.

“Hey,” she said, jokingly. Then when she got closer and saw the tear tracks on your face, she said it again, quieter, sitting next to you on the bed. “Hey.”

When you didn’t say anything, Amelia shrugged. “Teddy said your… dad was here?”

You nodded.

She let out a deep breath, running a hand through her hair. “Honey, will you let me hold you? Please?”

You nodded.

“Alright,” she said, waiting for your body to line up with hers as you rocked, then quickly grabbing you up in her arms, like she was catching something midair. “Gotcha.” She rocked with you.

“What did he say?” she asked, her breath warm on the top of your head.

“That I shouldn’t hold medical tools or babies because I’m a fucking re– I don’t want to say it. I hate that word.”

You felt Amelia’s arms tighten around you, and her breath came out in huffs. She was very angry. “As you should,” she told you. “It’s a nasty word. And it’s a word that doesn’t describe you at all, you know that.”

“I don’t know, Amy,” you whispered into her chest. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Babe, I think that ship has sailed,” Amelia said, running her fingers through your hair.

“Not my dad,” you explained. “The baby.”

Amelia was quiet for a moment, then you felt her lips press against the top of your head.

“Oh, honey,” she said, her voice soft. “Of course he’ll like you. He’ll love you. You're his mom.”

“But what if I’m bad at it? What if autism makes me bad at it?”

“Y/N,” Amelia said, gently grabbing your face and positioning it so that you had to look in her general direction, if not in her eyes. “Look how good you are with the kids in the ER. You’re gonna be an incredible mom.”

“I’m just scared,” you admitted.

“I’m a little scared, too,” Amelia told you. “But you know what? I think we’re gonna be okay. Me and you together? I mean, surely, combined, we can be at least one whole good mom, right?”

You giggled.

Amelia grinned at you. “There she is.”

You were quiet for a moment, playing with Amelia’s finger, with the edges of her scrubs.

“You know what you are?” Amelia asked after a bit, kissing your forehead. “You are smart and kind and empathetic. You’re funny and brave and you work hard. You’re my favorite person in the whole world.”

You looked away.

“Hey,” she said, pulling your face back toward her again. “I don’t like people talking about my wife like that. Even you.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around her waist and pressing your face to her chest.

“Are you going back down there?” Amelia asked.

You shrugged.

“Want me to check if your dad’s still here?”

“Would you?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, standing and placing one more kiss on your cheek. “In fact, I’d really like to talk to him.”

“Don’t do anything that’ll get you fired, Amy,” you called after her.

She looked back at you and winked as she walked through the door. “Can’t make any promises.”

Hey hey, coming in with a Natasha request, one where they head on over to Nat’s fam for the weekend. As they’re having a nice time, ofc reader can’t resist & flaunt over her gf and they have a quickie in the bathroom, thanks ;) 💕 oh and I’m claiming this heh -> 🌻 anon

Meeting the Family

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Words: 4.8k+

Genre: Smut & Fluff

Summary: Nat can't resist how cute and nervous you are as you introduce to her to your parents and show her where you grew up. When you're finally alone, she just can't keep her hands off you anymore...

Warnings: fingering (r receiving); degradation kink; name calling; bathroom sex; top!Nat, bottom!r; finger sucking

A/N: Finally I do a Nat fic! And more fics are to come now that finals are over.

(gif not mine, credit to the creator mentioned above!)

It was finally happening. You and Natasha had been dating for over eight months now and it was finally the time. Your parents had heard everything about her over the phone and she had heard all about them. Of course, it was only natural for each of them to want to meet the other. So, when Nat had a long weekend available, she came up with the brilliant– or in your opinion, a somewhat terrifying idea to drive three hours so she can meet your family. And your parents, being the nosy and also hospitable parents that they were, eagerly agreed. 

The three hour drive felt like it went by way too fast for your liking. Usually, you hate the drive to visit your parents; never being one who enjoys long car rides. However, on this particular trip, you wanted time to slow down. You were so nervous for the three of them to meet. It wasn’t that you weren’t ready for it to happen– In a way you definitely were. You knew how serious your feelings for Nat were and how hers were mutual. It wasn’t that you felt rushed, it was just a first for you. Throughout highschool and college you successfully avoided bringing partners home for your parents to meet. To be fair, none of them were very serious until Nat, but even on the few occasions that your relationships lasted more than three or four months, you still refused to bring them around to meet your parents. 

Natasha was different though. You were very aware that this needed to happen at some point, especially when you and Nat already expressed how deeply in love you both were. She was pretty convinced you two would get married at some point in the near future. Perhaps that thought would’ve terrified you if it were anyone else, but when she said it, it just sounded right. So then naturally she needed to meet your parents before any of that could happen. Preferably before the inevitable day you two move in together and you’re wearing an engagement ring.

When you knew your parents’ house was a mere ten minutes away, you could feel your whole body jitter with nerves. It wasn’t that your parents were difficult or that you were worried about Nat’s behavior. It’s just that you didn’t know how to act in this situation. Plus, throughout the years, your parents could be a bit particular about certain things when it came to their children. 

Nat, on the other hand, was just exhibiting pure excitement. As she drove with the guidance of the GPS, she kept her eyes glued to the road with a soft smile on her face the whole time. When the two of you were approaching the house, her smile only grew as your nerves only worsened.

Her eyes took in every single sight as she drove through your hometown and all the way up to your family’s driveway. She looked at the house with appreciation, mentioning how she liked the colors and the nicely kept garden your parents had. You just kept replying with quiet mhms and nods as she kept talking. Her eyes flicked to you once and she knew you were internally freaking out. She could practically feel your anxiety radiate off of you throughout the whole car ride. 

It was very clear that you were in no hurry to leave the car when she finally parked right in front of your parents’ house. Natasha took initiative when she turned the car off and hopped out and over to your side to get the door for you. Ever the caring and considerate girlfriend that she was, she immediately offered you a hand and, even if you didn’t need help, she carefully helped you to your feet. 

Her arms remained around you as you took a few deep breaths. “We got this,” you breathed. “You have nothing to be worried about.”

“I’m not worried,” Natasha let out a soft laugh, her hand reaching up to press against your cheek. “You shouldn’t be so nervous either.”

“I know, I know,” you sighed, taking a step back from Natasha’s touch. “It’s just that I’ve never taken anyone to meet my whole family before.”

“And what? You’re afraid they won’t like me?”

“No, no it’s not exactly that.” Your eyes fell to your feet, kicking at a little rock on the driveway as you tried to shove your nerves down. “They’re just protective and a little bit paranoid about things.”

“Paranoid?” Nat cocked her head and looked at you with genuine curiosity. 

“Yeah,” you gave Nat an apologetic smile. “You know, that anyone I date is just dating me for the wrong reasons. Kind of… I guess, old school.”

“But they’re okay that you’re bringing home another woman?” Nat crossed her arms over her chest and you could tell she was getting slightly defensive. “Oh gosh, it’s not that!” You immediately corrected.”They’re fine with that part.”

“So…” Nat was wracking her brain trying to figure out what you meant. “Are they worried I’ll… I don’t know– corrupt you?”

“Yes, yeah!” Even though that ship sailed a long time ago, especially with Nat, your parents really didn’t need to know that. You were fine with them being blissfully ignorant, thinking their little girl is still, well, their perfectly untouched little girl. 

“Don’t worry,” Nat smirked. “I can keep my hands to myself at the dinner table.” She gave you a wink and reached for you again. For a moment, she wrapped her arms around your whole body. Both hands landed right on your ass for a brief, tight squeeze before she stepped back, turned around, walked on ahead towards the door. You didn’t really love the way she emphasized at the dinner table but you were too distracted by the way your ass now stung from her hand.

“Nat!” You practically shrieked. She just laughed in response and you scurried along behind her. This was sure to be a long and nerve-wracking dinner. 

—-------------------

You were so incredibly wrong about the dinner. Your parents welcomed Nat with open arms. It was tense for about two minutes, but then she cracked the biggest dad joke and suddenly your own father was sold on her. Then when you watched as Nat bounced around the kitchen and dining room, helping your mother out with anything that needed to be taken care of to get ready for dinner, you realized she was sold too. Honestly, Nat did way more to help cook for dinner than you ever did when you lived at home. You weren’t one to cook, but Nat knew a thing or two and she wasn’t afraid to show it when your parents were putting the final touches on the meal.

When you all sat down for dinner, your anxiety was still running high, but everyone else seemed so relaxed. Both of your parents were impressed with Natasha and the stories she told. Although, you knew she was leaving out some major, violent details and also probably skipping over parts that she probably legally couldn’t share. Still, your parents were interested in every word. And of course, Nat being Nat, she had to poke around for embarrassing stories they could tell about your childhood. Unfortunately, they delivered. She laughed with them when they told about the time you got stuck in a tree and the month where you refused to wear anything other than a Princess Peach costume, even to school. When your face flushed, the three of them joined in with light teasing. You’d be a little angry if it wasn’t for Nat’s comforting hand squeezing your knee as she laughed or the bright smile she flashed at you when she learned more and more new little facts about you. Sure, you were a little embarrassed, but it just meant she owed you an awkward story or two for later. 

As dinner wrapped up, you began to clean up. It was always your thing when you lived with your parents. Since you couldn’t cook, you’d clean, but Nat was quick to swoop up the dishes in your hands and help. You didn’t miss the way your parents’ eyes shined with approval as they watched the care and kindness Natasha showed you and the gratitude she showed them for letting the both of you stay for the weekend. On multiple occasions during the dinner, Nat would complement their home and thank them for having the both of you. She remained incredibly respectful and relaxed at the same time. Nothing felt forced, nothing felt tense. It was as if they had known her for years. 

When you were both in the kitchen cleaning up, you finally realized most of your anxiety had dissipated. Natasha was by the sink, smiling to herself as she cleaned dishes and you were sharing that same smile as you dried and put away the things she handed to you. Both of your parents hovered around the kitchen; your mother constantly thanking Natasha and insisting she was the guest and it should just be you and your parents taking care of everything. Natasha would just chuckle and promise that she was more than happy to clean up. After all, it was her way of showing how much she appreciated the meal and the hospitality. 

After the dining room and kitchen were cleaned up, your parents insisted on you showing her the entire house. She had only seen a few rooms so far and didn’t even have much time to check out your childhood bedroom. That was partially on purpose on your part. You knew she’d see it soon, but you were nervous so you thought pushing that moment off would be better. In some ways it worked since you were no longer as anxious, but you still sat with some of that anxiety throughout dinner. 

Now, however, you were trying to be the best tour guide you could be as you took her all across the house. You even stepped out on the back porch with her to show her the rest of your parents’ garden. She wore this enchanting smile the whole time you showed her around. Her eyes would flick to certain things and she’d give you an “mhm” or an “oh really?” but for the most part, her attention was glued to you. As you stood outside and pointed out all the flowers that your family was growing, Nat was quick to come behind you and wrap her arms around your waist. 

When her lips pressed against your neck as you looked out over the small garden, you couldn’t help the small shiver that her action caused. You wondered if she noticed that reaction, but when you felt her arms tighten on your waist almost immediately, causing your body to press harder into hers, that was a clear enough indication that she had. But even if she did, she didn’t continue to kiss your neck, instead she rested her chin on your shoulder. With your cheek pressed against hers as she rested on you, you both let out a content sigh as you watched the sun go down over your family’s garden. It was a perfect moment. Even if you had the slightest suspicion Nat had things less innocent on her mind, she had proved you wrong by the calm and gentle moment you two were sharing. 

After a few moments of just appreciating each other’s presence, it was back to the house tour. This time, you were on to the second floor of the house and getting closer and closer to your bedroom. You figured you’d save that for last as you dragged Nat around, showing her your parents offices and explaining what they both did for work. Nat kept nodding along, pretending to look thoughtfully around the room before letting her eyes wander back to you. As you pulled her even closer to your room, you decided to stall just a little bit more. When she stepped in, you practically dragged her to the connected bathroom. Anything to postpone to the acknowledgement of your large teddy bear collection and the awkward highschool photos decorating the walls.

“And this…” You said as you pushed her further into the bathroom, “is my bathroom. So if you need anything, medicine, a shower, or whatever. At least we don’t have to share it with my parents.” 

“Mhm,” Nat looked around at the soft pink decor of your bathroom. Her eyebrow arching as she took in all the pastel colors. In your teens and all the way up to your very early 20s, you had an obsession with pastels. It definitely wasn’t Nat’s vibe. As she kept looking around the bathroom, you wondered how much she disliked it. You couldn’t imagine her reaction when she finally got a good look at your room and realized the pastel pinks, yellows, and blues didn’t just stop at the bathroom. 

“And your parents' room is all the way on the other side of the house?” She turned around and asked you. 

“Um, yeah. Well, on the same floor, but still the other side.” You were looking at her with curiosity now. She was starting to reach around you towards the door. Her body was fully pressed to yours as her hand made contact with the doorknob. 

“Good,” she mumbled more to herself than to you as you heard the door shut behind you. Nat’s other hand was around your waist now and you just kept searching her face for an indication of what she was planning. But the moment she leaned in for a kiss, things clicked. This was not like the innocent, quick kiss you shared on the porch a few minutes ago. It was slow, but there was heat behind it. Hunger even. 

For a second you gave in to the kiss. Your body melted into Nat’s as the hand she used to close the door came up to tangle in your hair. The way her tongue felt as it ran against your lips so gently was almost enough to make you lose yourself. But then, as your hand reached out to steady itself on the bathroom counter, you remembered where you were. 

“Nat,” you tried to pull away from the kiss. “We’re not going to fuck in my childhood bathroom.” Maybe that was a bit presumptuous, but you knew Nat and you could tell quite quickly what kind of mood she was in when she kissed you like that. Plus, her hand started wandering down towards your ass and that’s usually a pretty good hint at where she hoped things would head. 

“Why not?” You immediately saw the pout on Nat’s face. “We’re going to fuck in your childhood bedroom tonight, so what’s the difference?”

“Oh we are?” You pushed back from Nat slightly, enough to untangle yourself from her at least a little bit. Nat still was in your personal space though. 

Nat arched her eyebrow and gave you the look she often gave you when she was not buying the excuses you were saying. “Come on,” She chuckled. “We both know how you get.”

“How I get?” You huffed as you turned away from her. She had got your shirt all out of sorts just from being pressed against you. Your eyes were focused on fixing yourself so your parents had no suspicions that you were just making out with your girlfriend in your bathroom. Nat’s were focused on you too, but for entirely different reasons. 

“Mhm,” Nat smirked at you from behind. “How you get.” Her hands came to rest on either side of you, effectively pinning you to the counter. Her body pressed up against you, but still you tried to keep a poker face.

“And exactly how,” you kept your eyes glued to your own appearance in the mirror, trying your best to ignore Nat’s intense gaze, “do I get?” 

Her hand moved up your neck until it reached your chin. She cupped it in one hand and tugged your face until you were looking straight ahead to lock eyes with her in the mirror. “You become a needy little slut, begging for me to fuck you.” 

Your face instantly flushed and all words of protest you were thinking of throwing her way died at the tip of your tongue. You looked at her with wide eyes, as if you were a deer in headlights and she looked back at you with hooded eyes. She wasn’t wrong. She absolutely was not wrong. But who could blame you? Anytime Natasha slid into bed next to you, her strong arms pulling you into her, it just got you going… Just thinking about it made you squeeze your thighs together. Fuck, you were already wet. Hopefully, Nat didn’t notice the slight movement.

But of course, she absolutely did. A crooked smirk spread across her face and her hand tightened its grip on your chin. “That’s what I thought.” Her voice was low as it whispered in your ear. “Now, are you going to let me fuck you like we both know you want?” 

You didn’t say anything. All you could do was bite your lip and nod shyly as Natasha’s other hand made its way up the front of your shirt. 

“That’s my good girl,” Nat purred in your ear as her hand made its way under your bra. She cupped your breast in her hand and gave a squeeze, causing you to instantly grip the bathroom counter. 

“I’ve barely touched you and you already look like you’re struggling,” she teased.  

“Shut up,” you shot back. You tried to make it sound demanding, but really it fell from your lips like a pathetic whine the minute you felt her roll your nipple between her fingers.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to your guest,” her body pressed harder against yours as she spoke, “now is it?” Suddenly, you realized you were practically bent forward, trying your best to hold yourself up on the bathroom counter. 

Nat’s other hand was making its way down your body to the front of your jeans. When you heard your zipper being tugged down, you couldn’t help but gulp. How are you going to manage to be quiet when you were already so worked up just by the way she was handling you? You felt like you should be more concerned about that, especially with your parents downstairs. But as you felt Nat’s hand go straight into your panties, any concerns you had went right out the window. 

Her fingers brushed against your clit and you couldn’t help the full body shudder that she definitely noticed. A chuckle came from behind you and when your eyes flicked up to meet hers in the mirror you realized she was enjoying every single second of your internal struggle with control. The thing is, you already are too far gone to stop her from having her way with you and, honestly, you don’t really give a fuck. 

When her fingers began to move against your clit your eyes fluttered closed and you couldn’t help the slight twitch of your hips. As her fingers kept moving you couldn’t even stop the ever-so-slight rock of your body against her hand. You didn’t need to look back at her to know that her eyes were trained on your slightest reaction. Even if your eyes were now squeezed shut as she picked up the pace against your clit, you could feel her gaze locked on you. 

Your hands were grabbing harder at the bathroom counter now. Her body kept pressing harder and harder against you as her fingers circled your clit faster. At this point, you were biting at your lip pretty hard, trying to keep whatever sounds were threatening to come out at bay. It was a struggle though. Nat was now starting to tease you, moving her fingers from your clit to circle your entrance. You wanted nothing more to feel them fill you.

What you didn’t realize was, as you tried to move yourself lower to take in her fingers, you let out a pathetically loud whine. “Shh, shh, shh” she teased as her fingers kept moving away from where you wanted them most. “If you’re so worried about your parents finding out, you might not want to make so much noise.” 

She didn’t seem at all concerned about the sounds you could make and what your parents could hear as she kept teasing you. Her tone was way too teasing and sarcastic for your liking, yet it still turned you on even more. Your eyes opened again and you met her with a frustrated look. One of which, she just chuckled at again as her other hand went back to palming at your nipples. Finally, after one more satisfied look at the way your body was bent over the counter with hers pressed against your ass, she leaned down to press a kiss to the back of your neck before sliding two fingers in. 

With a low groan you took her fingers in, instantly feeling them hit the spot that she knew you loved. You took a deep breath as she pushed them up to her knuckles inside you, trying to adjust to the feeling of your pussy being filled before she began to move. Something told you she was going to make it as hard as possible for you to stay quiet, which meant she wasn’t going to be very gentle. Not that you didn’t love it. When she was rough it drove you wild. 

Her fingers slid out almost completely and there was a pause as her eyes flicked to your face. Your cheeks were flushed and your mouth was already slightly open, letting out small whines and sighs. Then, without warning, she pushed her fingers back in with so much force you were pushed even further over the bathroom counter. 

“Oh fuck!” You couldn’t stop yourself from crying out as she set a brutal pace, pumping her fingers in harder and harder. You felt her whole body rock against you from behind and your head was now falling forward as you did your best to brace yourself against the sink. 

Nat’s hand left from under your shirt and up to your lips. She pressed against them with slight pressure and you instantly knew what she wanted. Opening your mouth for them to slip in, she groaned as she felt your tongue run against them. “Suck,” she growled from behind as her fingers kept pumping into you. You instantly obeyed, moaning around the fingers now filling your mouth. 

“Look at you,” Natasha taunted. “Letting me fuck you like this while your family is just downstairs.” She gave a particular hard pump of her fingers.

“Mmphf!” You let out a muffled moan around the two fingers that remained in your mouth. 

“You’re such a dirty girl,” she said with a sadistic grin. “Letting me fill your mouth and your pussy. God, I love it.” 

Her fingers curled inside you and all you could do was tighten your grip on the counter and keep sucking on her fingers. The way she was fucking you and the words she was whispering in your ear from behind were getting to you. Your legs shook as she kept pumping into you.

Finally, she removed her fingers from your mouth and your head immediately fell. You were panting at this point as she fucked her fingers in and out of you with a strength that had you struggling to stay upright. 

The fingers that were once in your mouth moved under your chin and pushed your head to look back up. “Don’t look away,” Nat ordered. “I want you to watch yourself as I fuck you.” Your eyes moved to hers first and you realized they were glued to the way her fingers were currently pumping in and out of you. Then you took a peek at your own reflection and took in the sight before you. You looked utterly ruined by her. Your face was flushed, your lips were slightly swollen from the way she had kissed you, and your hair was badly disheveled now. On top of that, now that your pants and panties had fallen down to your ankles, when you looked back down at the way Nat’s fingers were fucking you, you could see the glisten of your own wetness on your thighs and even dripping down her wrist. Yeah, it was going to take a minute to get cleaned up from this. But when Natasha pushed in a third finger all worries about that left your mind and you were now just focused on staying quiet. You were failing miserably.

“Shhh,” Natash cooed. “You don’t want your family to find out what you’re doing, do you?” 

You shook your head, but your mouth hung open as you shook from the sheer pleasure of it all. Her fingers were stretching you deliciously and you were getting closer and closer to that edge. Being quiet was not an easy thing to do. 

Nat’s hand flew to your mouth when she knew it was getting too hard for you. Her hand muffled the pitiful moans that were now freely falling from your lips as you got closer and closer to an orgasm. Despite the fact that you probably weren’t being as quiet as you should be, she kept going, knowing by how tight you were around her fingers that it was any minute now. After just a few more seconds she finally felt you cum, making a mess of her hand.

Her hand finally left your mouth when she felt your whole body slump forward onto the sink. She pulled her fingers out of you as slowly and gently as possible and all you could do was shiver as you felt them pull away. You were panting and gasping, trying to catch your breath. Nat put a loving hand on your back, rubbing it gently as she too tried to take a few deep breaths. She could’ve kept going and the urge to was incredibly strong. Seeing you bent over against the sink, your ass pressed against her as she fucked you made her want to keep going until you couldn’t stand. The only thing stopping her was that she thought maybe this wasn’t the setting to completely ruin the daughter of her gracious hosts. 

Instead, she gently urged you to turn around, only to capture your lips in a slow, yet still deep kiss. Her tongue immediately sought out yours and you whimpered against her lips, still wishing to feel her inside you again. But you also thought that maybe this wasn’t the best time to keep begging for your girlfriend to fuck you senseless. Definitely not at your parents place. 

When she broke the kiss, her forehead pressed against yours and you both seemed to calm down just a little bit. Your body still felt worked up and Natasha still had the strong urge to keep making you make those sounds she loved so much, but you both resisted. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” she whispered and you nodded in reply.

After a few minutes of more calming deep breathing and a few moments where you thought you might give in to the hungry looks Nat was still giving you, you both managed to get yourselves together. Your parents were probably curious to see how Nat was settling in and you definitely didn’t want them to suspect that your girlfriend just fucked you in the bathroom. 

One thing about this whole trip, you definitely won’t be looking at your childhood bathroom, or bedroom for what was to come later that night, the same way…

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hii can u please write an emily x reader fic where emily sees readers sh scars for the first time? and kisses them or smt? if not don’t worry :))

Of course! :) Thanks so much for the request! I hope you enjoy!

Tracing You

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: past self-harm, mental illness, trauma, implied sexual assault/abuse (nothing graphic though!), mentions of afab body parts, discussions of sex Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: You and Emily have been dating for over a month, and you've still haven't let her get to second base. You're scared she'll see your self-harm scars and run for the hills. But, eventually, you'll have to expose them.

You knew it was coming. You always knew, and you always hated it, hated to cut everything short.

Emily was kissing you hard, passionately, as you both lounged on her couch, and you kissed her back. The movie you’d started earlier was long-forgotten. You loved kissing Emily. You could kiss her forever. You loved the way she pushed her body into yours until she was nearly on top of you, as if she physically couldn’t stand to be apart from you–even one centimeter apart. You loved the way she snuck her tongue into your mouth, somehow gentle and rough at the same time. You loved how her fingers felt against your flushed skin–cool and electric. The way she smiled into you. She gave you butterflies.

But you also knew that any minute now, she’d pull up on your shirt, as if asking for permission. You knew that her hands would sneak a little higher up on your torso, and she’d watch you to make sure you were okay. And you knew that, just like you always did, you’d gently push her hands back down, gently tug your shirt back into place, and continue kissing her like nothing had happened.

But that was the problem–nothing had happened. Nothing would happen because you couldn’t bear to let Emily see what was under your shirt. It wasn’t that you were modest, that you had a hard time with sex. What you had a hard time with were the scars that dotted your breasts like a galaxy, scars that even the best of sports bras couldn’t hide entirely. You wanted Emily and, god knows, she wanted you. But you just knew that she’d see them–see those red streaks painted across you like an oil painting of flames–and one of two things would happen.

She might see them and feel sorry for you. And you’d seen that kind of sorry before. It was the kind of sorry that swallowed relationships whole, that changed the way someone thought about you, looked at you, loved you. And you hated that. You were six years into recovery, no relapses, and you were proud of that. You wanted the people who loved you, who saw you at your most vulnerable, to know the you that you used to be, but to love the you that was now. And so often it seemed that people got stuck on the you who dragged safety pins across your skin. You weren’t her anymore. You’d worked hard not to be.

Even worse, Emily might see the scars and find you disgusting. She’d see that there had been something wrong with you, with your brain. She’d know that at some level, there was still something wrong with you. After all, your trauma, your mental illness–they hadn’t gone away. You had spent a whole lot of years in therapy and on medication to deal with them, but they were still a part of you, a part of your story. They were a part that was hard to look at. Even for you. You found those parts of yourself ugly, believed they deserved to be hidden–much like your scars. How much uglier would they be to Emily? Emily, who wasn’t in your mind, who didn’t know what had come before or during or after, and could only see what was left–the evidence that you were not okay.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Emily’s fingers slipped under your shirt, tentatively dancing up your torso. You let out a shaky sigh and grabbed her hands in yours, deepening the kiss, hoping it was enough to distract her. But it wasn’t. Not this time.

She pulled back and watched you with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?” you prompted, flushing and trying to act like nothing was wrong.

She bit at one of her nails as she watched you, and you pulled her hand away to hold it between both of yours.

“Are you…” She hesitated, like she didn’t quite know how to ask. “Do you want to… break up?” She looked sad, scared. And, for your part, you were sure you looked absolutely shocked.

“What!? No! No, Em, of course not!” You ran gentle fingers over her face, trying desperately to communicate that you absolutely didn’t want to break up and would, in fact, like to never, ever break up.

“You just…” She sighed, picking at her fingernails again. “I love making out with you, but you never want to go any further. And I get it if you’re not ready, that’s completely fine. It’s just… it’s been a while, and I want to make sure you’re not here because… you know, because you feel like you have to be.”

You stared at your hands. You felt like your guilt might swallow you whole. Here you’d thought you were playing it cool, but realistically, what would have been the end game? Never having sex with Emily? Never letting her see your body? You’d been in relational limbo for over a month now, and it had been stupid, so stupid, to assume there wouldn’t be any consequences. She thought you didn’t like her! She thought you weren’t as into her as she was into you! And it was exactly the opposite–you were so into her that it scared you, so into her that it was scarier than it had ever been to show your scars. The thought of losing her–already, even so early on–was terrifying.

“Emily,” you started, rubbing your thumb over her hand. “I’m here because I want to be. I really like you.”

She blinked, thinking harder. “Am I… am I doing something? You know, that makes you… not want to–”

“Oh god,” you groaned, burying your head in your hands. “No, Em. No. You’re beautiful. You’re perfect. I do want to.”

You sighed and looked at her. Her head bent, hands worried. Your self-consciousness was making Emily self-conscious. And you really couldn’t bear that she’d think less of herself because of you.

“Take off my shirt,” you said, bluntly.

“What?”

“Take it off. It’s okay.”

Emily fiddled with a stray piece of upholstery on the couch. “I don’t know, Y/N, this doesn’t seem like the right mood for—”

“Emily,” you pleaded, squeezing one of her hands. You knew if you didn’t do it now, you might never. “Please.”

Emily watched you with concern, but did as you asked, slowly lifting your shirt up and over your head.

You looked up to the ceiling, exhaling shakily, willing yourself not to cry. She would see them. She was seeing it. She saw them. You didn’t know if you could ever look her in the eyes again. You didn’t even know if you could look at yourself.

You felt Emily’s hand press gently into yours, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to look at her. Then you felt one of her fingers, cold for the shock of it more than the actual temperature, at the top of your breasts, the part that peeked out from the bra, littered with angry, red lines that had only somewhat faded over the years.

You felt her trace one of the scars, the whole, long trajectory of it, with her finger, and then when she reached the end, she leaned forward and planted a kiss at its zenith. Your breath caught in your throat as she continued following the scars, kissing you again and again and again until–though you’d worked so hard not to–you had stray tears leaking down the side of your face.

Emily grasped your face in her hands, so gently, so gingerly, and lowered your head, using her thumbs to brush the tears from under your eyes. You still couldn’t meet her eyes.

“Y/N, look at me,” she said softly, caressing your face. You finally forced yourself to look into her eyes, and what you saw there surprised you. It wasn’t pity and it wasn’t disgust. It was something new. Admiration and respect. And–maybe, just maybe–love?

“You’re beautiful,” she told you, staring at you pointedly, holding your face so that you couldn’t look away. “You’re beautiful, and that’s all we’re gonna say about it unless you want to talk more.”

“I feel like you should–” you said, your voice breaking a bit as you sniffled. “You should know why and– and when, and–”

“I am happy to listen to anything you want to tell me,” she assured you. “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to. It’s your story, and you can tell me what you want, when you want. Believe me, though,” she said, smiling mischievously. “I don’t need any more information tonight if you’re not ready.”

“Really?” you asked.

Showing the scars had been hard enough. You didn’t really want to talk about your hellish high school and college years, the man who had touched you there and made you want to rip all your skin off, the years of therapy, the relapses, the depression, the medication. You’d tell her. You’d tell her all of it, you knew. But right now, you wanted to reap the rewards of being brave. The rewards being Emily.

Emily nodded and winked at you, then leaned in to brush her lips against your ear. “Y/N,” she whispered. “The only information I needed was that you had boobs under there.”

You blushed and grinned at her, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her in for another heated kiss.

When you pulled away, Emily was nearly panting. You smirked. “I showed you mine. It's your turn.”

The team had just wrapped up a case where the unsub used a hallucination to make his victims see and / or experience their worst fears before killing them. Now everyone was gathered on the plane a few minutes from home, discussing their worst fears. 

 “Okay okay” Morgan laughs. “So, Reed is scared of the dark, JJ the woods, and myself of course nothing” he smirks “What about you (L/N)? I don't think I've ever seen you scared, but there's got to be something.” He wiggles his eyebrows, trying to lighten the mood despite the topic.

  “My stepfather.” You reply, a blank look on your face. Before anyone can ask questions, the voice of the pilot comes over, the speaker telling everyone to buckle in as the plane lands. You don't notice the sad looks everyone gives you as you settle in. 

After the plane lands, everyone makes their way inside to their respective desks to begin paperwork. JJ invites you to join her in her office, but you decline, saying that you'll be able to focus better if she's not around leaving her with a wink and a dusting of pink on her cheeks. What you fail to notice as the hour ticks on is her watchful eyes on you the whole time.

Only about an hour later, Hotch steps out and gives everyone the go-ahead to leave and wishes everyone a good day off. As you pack up your things, JJ makes her way to your desk and snatches up your hand. “Come over to my place?” she asks quietly. You give her a smile and nod as she leads the way. 

45 minutes later, you're cuddled up to JJ in bed, both freshly showered, one hand running soothing circles on your back while the other runs through your damp hair, your head nestled into her chest. “(Y/N)?” She asks.

“Hmm?” You hum.

 “What did you mean when you said you're scared of your stepfather?” The question you knew was coming but had hoped it wouldn't. Sighing, you sit up to face the love of your life.

“My stepfather used to beat me. It started when I was around 6 or 7. After my mom died, he blamed me for her death. Said if she didn't have to take care of me all the time, she could've focused on her health. He had me believing that for a time thing is though, my mother died of cancer. Doctors said it was aggressive, and her odds were low even if they had caught it early.” You take a moment to collect yourself before continuing. 

“He beat me till I was 17 until a nice police officer took notice and investigated. He got me out, and that's when I decided to go into law enforcement.” You had been avoiding eye contact with the blonde until now. Taking a deep breath, you look up at her to see she's looking at you with the softest of looks. Not one of just pity, but love and compassion, and it nearly broke you.

JJ pulled you into a hug as she whispered “I'm so sorry you had to go through that for so long and I'm glad you turned out the way you did, as someone I love you with all my being. Know that as long as I'm here, no one will ever hurt you again.” She presses a kiss to your forehead before you sit up and kiss her deeply. 

“Thank you, JJ. I love you too.”

Could you do a celeb reader x jj where the teams finds out who reader is and is shocked

Actress

pairing: jennifer jareau x fem reader

category: fluff

warnings: innuendo

word count: 823

summary: request above 👆

"Are you sure they're gonna like me?" I asked.

"Of course. They're gonna be jealous. Of me. Because I'm the one who get to spend my life with you."

"Don't they have some kind of prejudice against actors or something?" I looked in the mirror and fluffed up my hair a bit, about to re apply my lipstick before she stopped me.

"Babe. It's gonna be fine. This isn't a red carpet. They're coming to my apartment. It's fine."

"Yeah but-"

"None of them are gonna care if you're best dressed or not."

"Are you sure."

"I promise. They're FBI Agents. Not the founders of Prada."

"Ok." I let out a breath and flopped down on the couch.

"They're gonna love you."

Fifteen minutes later all of JJ's friends came through the door at once. They all froze once they saw me, stopping their laughter and their conversation. "JJ you said her name was y/n. YOU NEVER MENTIONED IT WAS Y/N Y/L/N!" I woman with blonde hair squealed.

"Well I didn't-" JJ started.

"You have no excuses." The woman rushed over to me. "Hi nice to meet you I'm Penelope Garcia. I loved you in Dune!" She had a huge smile on her face.

"Thanks. It's nice to meet you." I shook her hand and looked over at the rest of her friends who had their jaws hanging open.

"Ok guys. Stop staring. I have sandwiches out on the table and a few games picked out." JJ sat down next to me and put her hand on my back.

I tried to remain casual, like I didn't have a dozen eyes watching me from across the room. "Do they always stare?" I whispered to her.

"Just at you."

"Thanks." I sighed and leaned into her.

"They just didn't expect it to be you. You know? They're shocked that they're meeting a celebrity, and that I'm dating one." She kissed my cheek and pulled me into her. "If you're uncomfortable just tell me."

"Ok." I rested my head on her shoulder, smiling as everyone came into the cozy living room.

"Do you guys wanna watch a movie or play some games?" JJ asked.

"What's your next movie?" A muscular bald guy asked.

"I actually can't say."

"Come on. We won't tell anyone."

"I legally cannot say."

"What's your favorite color?" A woman with dark brown hair asked. "I'm Emily by the way."

"Um...probably purple." It was refreshing to be asked such a simple question again.

"Do you have any pets?"

"I have an Australian Shepherd named Elmo."

"I have a cat named Sergio."

"I've always wanted a cat." I gave JJ a small pout. "I've tried to convince JJ to get one but she says one dog is already too much."

"JJ!" Penelope gasped.

"What?" JJ tried to defend herself but her fate had already been decided. Penelope and Emily started attacking her on how she could say no to getting a cute little kitten. "Are you gonna defend me at all or no?" JJ asked.

"No. Because I agree with them." I shrugged and listened to the rest of their lovely points about why we should get a cat. "See? We could get a little ginger cat and you can pick the name."

"But-"

"Baby please." I gave her my best puppy eyes and everyone laughed. I felt more relaxed now. These were cool people.

"Ok fine." Everyone cheered so I laughed, hiding my face in JJ's neck. She stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head. "See? They love you baby." She whispered to me. "You had nothing to worry about."

"Well I know that now." I tilted her head towards mine, pulling her in for a sweet kiss. I felt everyone's eyes on us but I didn't care. We would have to get used to it anyways, once we went public.

"I never would've guessed you were this lovey dovey." Morgan said with a laugh. "In all your movies you play such cold hearted characters."

"I like a challenge." JJ smiled and kissed my cheeks a few times after I pulled away. I looked back at her and pecked her lips before giving her my bedroom eyes.

"Ok guys, party is over." JJ announced.

"We've only been here for an hour." Penelope protested.

"Why are we leaving?" Spencer asked, confused as Morgan tried to usher him out of the room. "Guys?"

"It's ok Spencer. One day you will understand." Emily sympathized. I giggled as JJ pined me down to the couch, excitement rushing through me as I heard the door shut. Before JJ went any further she just stared into my eyes, leaning so close our lips were just centimeters away.

"I love you so much."

"Why don't you show me then?" She didn't wait a second to connect our lips in a passionate kiss. I knew it was going to be a long night.

Would you maybe write something in the cowgirl au about something about the guy from the bar coming up again in reader’s life and she tries to hide it from JJ but is so upset and can’t?

Officer Davis

pairing: jennifer jareau x cowgirl fem reader

category: hurt/comfort

warnings: rape

word count: 1088

summary: your rapist comes up in your life again and jj comforts you

I flopped down on the hotel bed, happy to visit Texas. JJ was here for a case and I decided to tag along so I could visit my hometown.

I lifted my head off the pillow as my phone rang. I grabbed it from the nightstand and answered the call. "Hey baby." I heard JJ's sweet voice and my heart fluttered.

"Hi."

"I'm gonna go down to the police station. I've heard you might know a few of the guys." I could hear her smile through the phone.

"Tell me their names and I might be able to give you a few pointers."

"We've got...David Stafford."

"I went to high school with him. He's a cool dude. I didn't know he was a police officer now. He's really into football. He's gay though. So you shouldn't get hit on by him"

"Thank God. Trent Porter?"

"No. Never heard of him."

"Ok last guy...Brady Davis?" My heart stopped as my blood went cold. "Y/n?"

"No I uh...I don't know him."

"Ok." I knew she could tell I was lying but didn't want to press. "I'll be back in a few hours. Text me if you need anything, ok? I love you."

"Love you too." I hung up and pulled my knees to my chest, my brain felt loud but quiet at the same time. It was him. From the bar. The guy who raped me. How did he even become a police officer? Someone like him was supposed to be protecting the citizens? How fucked up was the system here?

I had no idea how much time had passed but I had just sat there in bed, alone with my thoughts until the hotel door opened. "Hey babe. I brought back some Panera." She handed me a bowl of mac n cheese, leaning over to kiss my cheek. "Everything ok?" I just nodded, not saying a word. "Do you still wanna go out and walk around?" She took off her coat.

"I just wanna stay here." My voice was quiet and no matter how much I tried to make it stable it still wavered.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I took a big bite of mac n cheese.

"Ok...but you were really excited to walk around since you haven't been here in a few months and now you just want to stay in the hotel room. That isn't like you and I'm concerned." She sat down next to me.

"Well you don't have to be concerned. Can we just go to bed? I'm really tired and I haven't seen you all day and I wanna cuddle and go to sleep."

"Ok. We can do that." She kissed my temple and took my food so she could put it in the fridge. She came back over and laid on her back so I could crawl on top of her. "Good night my love."

"Night night."

I couldn't fall asleep that night, no matter what position I slept in. I had been trying to sleep for 6 hours and it just wasn't working. I thought of him. I thought of him knowing I was here and wanting to talk to me. To torment me. "Baby...why can't you sleep?" JJ yawned and rolled over to face me.

"Hm?"

"You've been tossing and turning all night." She lazily wrapped an arm around me. "Come here. I wanna cuddle." She gently kissed my shoulder before resting her head in the crook of my neck. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"It's nothing."

"It's clearly not nothing." She kept her voice gentle, tracing soothing patterns on my belly. Her eyes were still shut as she cuddled up against me. "I always know when you're upset. It's like a sixth sense. But I know it's really bad this time. I wanna help you. Can I please help you?"

"I don't...it's not something you should be worried about."

"You're my girlfriend. I'm always gonna worry about you." She kissed my neck tenderly and I could tell she was fighting off sleep. When I stayed silently she picked her head up from my neck and kissed my lips. "You can tell me anything baby."

"It's Officer Davis." I whispered.

"What about him?"

"He was..." I put my hand over my mouth, covering my face. She grabbed my hand gently and brought it to her lips, kissing it softly before kissing my shoulder.

"He was what, baby?"

"That guy. From the bar." My bottom lip trembled but my body relaxed as she scooped me into a big hug. "I thought I would never have to see him again but now I'm in the same town as him."

"Well you don't have to see him my love." She kissed my temple. "We can go back home if you want."

"But you're on a case."

"It's ok. They'll understand if I need to go home." She stroked my hair, holding eye contact with me with so much love in her eyes. "Just say the word and we can go home."

"But I don't wanna tear you away from work."

"Hey...baby that's not what you would be doing, ok? I would much rather go back to DC and make sure you're ok than stay here where you're not ok. You'd do the same thing for me." She pointed out.

"Ok. But I don't wanna leave. I'll stay."

"Are you sure?"

"Mhm."

"Ok." She kissed my forehead. "But you have the right to change your mind at any time."

"Thank you." I leaned my forehead against her chest, really wanting a hug. She got the message and wrapped her arms around me.

"Of course." She pulled me into her lap, kissing the side of my face a few times. "Just tell me if you need anything, alright?"

"Mhm." I leaned into her as much as I could, wanting to feel her body against mine.

"I love you so much." She gently grazed her fingertips over my back, wanting to make me feel as comfortable as possible.

"I love you too." I rested my chin on her shoulder and shut my eyes, feeling so tired after all the anxiety. "I wanna sleep."

"Ok baby we can-" She started to move me to lay down but I stopped her.

"No. I wanna stay like this."

"You're like a toddler." JJ laughed, stroking my hair gently. "We can sleep like this if you want."

"Thanks." I tucked my face into her neck, feeling myself start to drift off. "Love you."

"Love you too. Good night."

"Night night."

The beauty hidden underneath

Summary: You are not comfortable wearing a swimsuit/bikini and Emily is there to help you love yourself.

Ship: emily prentiss x fem!reader

Promt by: @emberfrostlovesloki

TW: body dysphoria

—————————————

You’ve been at it for what seems to be hours. It, being standing in front of a mirror, staring at yourself and trying to not cringe or flinch at every scar, every curve and every hint of cellulite. If you stare too long, if you think too much, a new wave of tears will make its way down your face and no matter how hard you try, you can’t stop it.

You try to remind yourself that this body has suffered great pain, has survived many tragedies. That every scar is a story, every dip is a love mark. But you can’t, because this body, this woman staring right back at you, is not a woman that’s pretty. It’s a woman whose thighs are touching, whose belly is slightly protruding, whose glutes are covered in stretch marks.

You turn sideways, you look at how your lower stomach is sticking out. You suck in a breath and hold it, you arch your back, you look thin. You need air, you release that breath and then it starts all over again. The loathing, the tears, the sobs. You punch at the extra fat on your arms, on your belly on your thighs and you try so hard to somehow make it disappear.

You don’t even know how all this started in the first place because you’ve been so good for so long. But as you think about it, you know exactly when it started; when Emily suggested you and her take some time off and go to the beach for spring break.

You’ve been dating for almost six months now and you’ve finally let the team know, which means you can be open about it and be in public without fear of someone seeing you. So when you finally told Hotch and the team on the way home from yet another grueling case Emily suggested you two go to LA, enjoy some time alone, out and proud. You didn’t think twice before saying yes, because she looked so happy and you didn’t want to ruin it for her.

That was two weeks ago. Two weeks of you trying your best to feel comfortable in your own skin. Two weeks of you trying to remember how to swim because in reality, you hate your body so much you haven’t been to the beach in three years. It’s been fourteen days of trying swimsuit after swimsuit, seeing what covers most her skin and what hides her shames.

“Y/n?” Your head has never snapped faster towards the direction of a sound before.

You grab your robe from the bed and turn around as you wrap it around yourself, trying to hide your face from Emily, not wanting to alarm her. “Hey, I didn’t expect you home so soon.” But you didn’t even know what time it was or how long you’ve been standing there.

“Honey, look at me.” You hear Emily asking you softly as she steps closer to you. You shake your head, your body still turned away. “Y/n, please.” She says softly.

You cannot say no to her when her voice is so sweet, so soft, so concerned. You turn around, tears still streaming down your face and you lock eyes with Emily. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” You say, words coming out in broken sobs as you lay your head on Emily’s shoulder.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” She says, leaving a kiss stop your head. “What is it?”

You raise your head and you look at her; this gorgeous woman you get to call your girlfriend. “I can’t go on vacation with you. Not at the beach, I can’t.” You confess as you pull yourself away from Emily’s embrace.

You watch as Emily blinks several, her expression not hurt but confused. But she seems to put the pieces together quickly after taking one look around and revisiting the scene she came across moments prior; her girlfriend looking at herself in the mirror and crying.

“Oh, honey.” She says, approaching you once again and this time taking you by your wrist and positioning you in front of the mirror while standing behind you.

“Emily, please don’t.” You beg her looking away from the mirror.

“Y/n, do you trust me?” She asks you.

You look in the mirror then, only then, and you look at Emily. You look into her eyes and you smile at her trying not to blink, the bangs too close to her eyes tickling her. “With my life.” You respond, the question not needing to be pondered.

She kisses your cheek and slowly unties the robe around your waist and pulls it down gently, allowing it to fall on the floor. Her hands caress over your stomach, across the jugged scar in the right side of your abdomen. “This on is from when you were twenty three, when you had your appendix out.” Emily says her voice low and sweet as honey. “You told me that you couldn’t stop picking at it because you needed something to do with your fingers.”

“You should know by now, I can’t stand still.” You say with a small chuckle and you feel Emily nod against you, leaving a kiss on your right shoulder.

Her hand doesn’t stay there, she moves the scar on your chest. “That’s from last year. And also the day that I realized how deep my feelings for you went. It took almost losing you to understand. To see.” And then her hand goes and rests on the part of you you hate the most. “And this, this little bump right here is gonna host our future babies.” She says with a small chuckle as her thumb caresses your still empty belly.

“Oh yeah?” You ask her with a small laugh. “So I’m the one who gets pregnant?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Emily says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re the stronger one between the two of us. Can you imagine me walking around being kicked and punched? I so don’t have your strength. Or your patience.” You find your hand resting on top of Emily’s and for once you can actually imagine it. And the image of you gaining all this weight has never made you happier.

“How many are we gonna have?” You ask, your smiling growing upon gazing into Emily’s loving brown orbs.

“We’ll start with one. Hopefully they are twins, but if they’re not we can always adopt.” She says with a shrug. “And you’ll carry them with these strong arms and you’ll run after them with these strong legs that chase criminals.” She reminds you, now both her arms wrapped around your waist. “And you’ll put them on those shoulders that always seem to carry the world’s weight on them.”

You turn around in her embrace and you wrap your arms around her neck lazily, planting a kiss on her lips. “I love you, Emily Prentiss.” You say against her lips.

“Good.” She replies. “‘Cause I love you, too.” She kisses you once more, before pulling her lips away and placing a strand lick of hair behind your ear. “And if you don’t want to go to the beach that’s okay. We can go somewhere else. Or we can go to a vacation house I have in the Hamptons. It was it’s one pool and only I’ll be able to see you.”

“You’d go through all that trouble for me?” You ask, your insecurities somehow still getting to you.

“When are you going to understand, y/n?” She asks with a sigh. “I’d go to the ends of the earth for you if it meant you would smile.”

And smile you do, lunging forward and kissing her once more. “The Hamptons sound nice.” You say eventually, because you realized that so long as you had Emily, you had all you needed.

A mother’s love (is unlike any other)

Author’s Note: I’m a person who suffers from GAD and this fic is entirely based off of my experience with this disorder. Everybody’s experience is different and this piece of material is not meant to disrespect anybody else’s journey or struggles. Enjoy🤍

Summary: You are Emily’s sixteen year old daughter and you’ve not been feeling well for a while so you’ve sought out Tara’s help. You see her twice a month behind Emily’s back, until you decide that it’s time you talk to her.

TW: self harm, GAD, panic attack, panic disorder.

————————————————————————

You sneak into the BAU like you’ve been doing for the past three months. Almost every week, your mother, Emily Prentiss, being the Section Chief of the behavioral analysis unit has a meeting with her higher ups regarding her team. You know because every time she comes home bitching about the ‘entitled white pricks’ that make her life a living hell.

When that day is to come you and Tara, your mother’s colleague, text each other and set a therapy appointment for the hour Emily will be stuck in a conference room being bored out of her mind. Thankfully, those meetings tend to happen every Tuesday, a day where you first period at school is free and therefore you have the choice not to go until the second period is meant to start.

You pass the security, Jeff greeting you with a smile while passing you your visitor’s badge and you smile back passing him back a coffee. They have a silent agreement; so long as she brings him coffee he does not let her mother know of her whereabouts. You’ve made sure to dress in a way where you could blend in — stealing clothes of your mother’s, old pairs of jeans and shirts that she doesn’t wear anymore but used to wear when she was younger, a blouse and a leather jacket— and you go unnoticed every time.

You get off the elevator on floor below the BAU and then take the stairs, avoiding coming face to face with any other members of your mother’s team that could recognize you. You climb up the flight of stairs, open the door at the end of them and quickly look right and left as agents pass in front of her in a hurry. You notice Tara leaning up against a wall checking her phone and you start approaching her.

The moment the woman spots you she stands up a little straighter and a smile graces her features. You take quick steps towards her and you do a little happy dance on the inside, having accomplished yet again the mission of sneaking into the FBI headquarters undetected.

But that is not the case today.

You are only a few feet away from Tara when someone rounds a corner and you bump right into them. “Watch it!” They say in a harsh, exhausted tone.

“I’m sorry.” You respond and then look up. “Mom.” You squeak out as your mother’s brown eyes pierce through your own.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” She asks you confused, until worry settles on her face. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“No, no, I’m okay.” You reply quickly, stealing glances with Tara who also knows that you are utterly screwed.

“Alright.” Your mom says, relief washing over her, but confusion remaining a dominant emotion in her features. “Then what are you doing here?”

“I…” you start, words failing both you and Tara who just shakes her head in something that resembles fear. You cannot blame her, your mother can be a rather scary individual.

The woman behind your mother clears her throat, making her presence known to her boss. “She is here to surprise you, isn’t that right, y/n?” Tara says and your mom looks back and forth between the two of you.

“Surprise me.” She repeats, looking into your soul and making you heart beat faster than it does when you run laps in gym class.

You nod your head furiously. “Surprise you, yes. And you ruined it.” You day with a chuckle. “I thought, we could have breakfast together, you know?” Tara presses her lips together and you resist the urge to scowl at her. You know the excuse is lame but you’ve never been good at improvisation. Or lying to your mother.

“You drove all the way to Quantico, on a school day, to have breakfast with me.” The raised eyebrow that is borderline reaching her hairline lets you know that you’ve been caught on the lie.

However, you hold on to false hope. “Yeah, I mean, do you even remember the last time we had breakfast together?” You scoff. “I sure don’t.”

She nods her head, pursing her lips, and suddenly she reminds you of that one Meryl Strip movie where she plays that woman running a magazine and you feel like Anne Hathaway on her first day working for her.

She looks back at Tara who just shrugs at her. Your mom looks to her left and opens the door to the office you and Tara usually have your sessions. “In here. Now.” She says, her voice not leaving room for arguments.

“I’m just gonna-” Tara starts, but your mom doesn’t let her get away with it, either.

“You,” she says looking at Tara in a way that must be even scarier than her usual because Tara cannot even look her in the eye, “are not going anywhere. Get in here.”

You both enter and Tara scowls at you. “Breakfast?” She whispers. “That’s the best you got?”

“You said she had a meeting.” You whisper back.

Behind you, your mom slams the door shut and locks it before turning around, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at the both of you waiting for an explanation. “I can stand here and wait for either one of you to talk. I’ve got nothing better to do.” She lets you know and she means business.

You look at Tara for help, hoping that she can get you out of this. “You know I can’t lie.” Tara tells you I’m that gentle soothing tone she uses in your sessions. “But I won’t talk unless I have your permission.”

“Why do you need her permission?” Your mom asks with a frown.

You look between Tara and your mom and you can feel the panic rising in your chest. It starts with something the size of the iceberg that hit the titanic settling on your chest, making your breathing shallow. Your breaths are quick and shallow, your heart is beating approximately a hundred and fifty beats per minute, your ears have started ringing and your vision is getting blurry. Everything starts to go numb, starting with your fingers and slowly spreading throughout your body and then you are paralyzed.

You can feel two pairs of hands moving you to sit and as your ass hits the couch, feeling comes back to your limbs and you realize you’ve stopped breathing. You suck in a breath and look around in panic and you can see your mother saying something, trying to get your attention.

“Emily, with all due respect, either shut up or get out.” You hear Tara say before turning her attention back to you. “Y/n, look at me, focus on my voice.” She says and you try your damn best to do so. “Good job, honey, now breathe.” She says and counts to five as you breathe. “And out.” She says, counting to five once again.

She makes you repeat that same exercise ten times, just to make sure that your breathing is normal and you are significantly calmer than a few minutes ago. And you do. Your pulse is back to a normal rhythm, your legs and hands are no longer tingly and your vision is no longer covered by tiny black spots.

“Touch your fingers with your thumbs.” Tara instructs you and only now you notices that she is a crouched down in front of you on the couch.

You lift your hands slightly and while your movements are shaky you manage to do the simple task you were assigned. You repeat it as many times as it takes for the trembling to stop and only when it does you dare look over to your mother.

Tears gather in your eyes as you see her wet face and the hand covering her mouth to keep you from noticing her quivering lip. “Mama?” You manage to let out.

She’s by your side right away, sitting down next to you and wrapping her arms around you, enveloping you in a ‘mama bear hug’ as you two call them. She kisses your temple, runs her hand up and down your arm and whispers lovingly in your ear that ‘you’re gonna be okay’ and ‘I love you’.

“I’m sorry.” You say with your face buried in her shoulder, soaking her shirt with your tears. “I’m so sorry, mama.” You say again and she holds you tighter against her.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, my little angel, you hear me?” She says, a tear falling from her chin to your head. “Nothing.” She repeats and kisses the top of your head.

“Y/n, do you wanna talk to your mom alone or do you want me to stay?” Tara asks.

You raise you head from your mother’s shoulder and wipe your face from the tears with the sleeve of your blouse. “Give us a few minutes?” You ask. “I’ll text you to come in if I need you.”

Tara nods and stands up. “Of course.” She says.

As she walks to the door you stop her before she can open it. “Tara?” You hear yourself saying. She turns her head and looks at you over her shoulder. “Thank you.” You say.

Tara smiles at you. “Any time mini Prentiss.” She winks and walks out, closing the door behind her.

You scoot away from your mom, creating some space between the two of you and at the same time bracing yourself for the conversation that’s about to happen. “Honey, what is going on?” She asks reaching out and taking on of your hands in hers.

You don’t pull away and instead hold onto it as if it’s your lifeline. “I-” you pause because this is not an easy things to say and you are certain that it’s not going to be easier for your mother to hear. “I hurt myself.” You finally admit. “A while ago.”

Your mother’s eyes immediately fill with tears at this. “You attempted-”

You are quick to stop her. “No, I didn’t attempt anything.” You say. “But I have been feeling overwhelmed, more than usual. It feels as though my brain travels faster than light does and I tried so many things to make it stopped but nothing worked.” You swallow the lump in your throat and your mom squeezes your hand, prompting you to continue. “So I resulted to self harm. It was the only thing that worked. It was the only thing that allowed me a few moments of peace and quiet from everything that has been going on in my head.”

She nods, wiping away a few stray tears with her free hand. “Are you still doing it?”

You shake your head. “I haven’t self harmed for almost a month now.” You admit, proudly.

She smiles at you. “I’m really proud of you.” She says. “For telling me, for finding the strength to stop, for asking for help.” She brings your hand up to her lips and kisses it. “My sweet angel, why didn’t you come to me right away?” She asks you.

You sigh, because you are still searching for the answer to that question. “I don’t know.” You respond. “I guess Tara seemed like the easiest choice. I guess I wanted to know what’s wrong with me first before I worried you.”

She chuckles at that and shakes her head. “Honey, I’m your mom. Worrying at all times for everything in the job description.”

You giggle at that. “So you are not mad?” You ask, your voice coming out small and scared while your eyes wander around the room.

“Hey, look at me.” She says, placing her free hand under your chin and turning your head gently so it’s facing her. “I could never be mad at you for something like this.” She assures you. “It’s not something you can control, sweetie.”

You scoff. “I know that now.” You say and she chuckles at the hints of your attitude resurfacing again. Hints of an attitude that matched her own.

“So,” she asks, “what did Tara say? Is there a diagnosis?”

You sigh. “Generalized Anxiety Disorder and panic disorder. I was planning on telling you soon, because Tara wants to start me on medication.”

She nods. “Okay, why don’t you text her to come in here so we can discuss it?”

You take out your phone and shoot her a text.

You: She wants to talk. Can’t believe you told her to shut up. She’s gonna kill you.

Tara: I am scared.

You: Just teasing. She’s cool.

Tara: She’s turned you into an exact replica of her.

You: Thanks!

Tara: It wasn’t a compliment.

You laugh and put your phone back in your pocket. “She’ll be here shortly.” You inform your mother. “Go easy on her, alright? I asked her to keep it between and she was under doctor-patient confidentiality. I could sue her.”

She laughs before hugging you once again, this time not a hug of hurt and worry but a hug of love and relief. “I love you so much my little angel.” She says.

You smile. “Love you, too, mom.”

I was today years old when I learned that when you type “otp: true” in AO3 search results it filters out fics with additional ships, leaving only the fics where your otp is the main ship

Surprise

pairing: jennifer jareau x cowgirl fem reader

category: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

word count: 865

summary: moving in with jj has caused you to get a little homesick but she's there to help

I had decided to move to DC with JJ. It was the best for both of us. She couldn't give up her job and my mental health would be better in DC, where I was more accepted. I had only lived here for about a month and it was going great, I got to see the love of my life everyday and get unlimited kisses and cuddles. The sex was even better too. It was also more inclusive. There weren't as many slurs or discrimination up here than there was in Texas.

Even though it was so much better than my hometown I still missed my old home. I loved waking up to the sun rising, not cars honking in the streets. And I liked seeing my animals everyday. I couldn't do that here. It was amazing waking up next to JJ everyday but there were somethings Texas had that DC lacked. "Baby?" My girlfriend poked my cheek as she saw me lost in thought. "You ok? You look like you're thinking a bit too hard there."

"Yeah I'm good."

"You sure?"

"Mhm."

"I'm gonna head to the coffee place down the street. You want anything?"

"Bagel sandwich please." She smiled before leaning down to press a kiss on the top of my head.

"You got it."

She came back 20 minutes later, giving me my bagel sandwich. I didn't eat it though. I wasn't in the mood. "Honey?" I asked quietly.

"Mhm?"

"Can we cuddle?"

"I think I can do you one better." She grabbed her car keys again. "Let's go."

"Go where?"

"It's a surprise. Come on." She put her hand on my lower back and led me out the apartment door.

"Jayje I want to stay home." She smiled, loving how I already called it home. It did feel like home. Since the first time I visited her and woke up in her bed, saw her get ready for work in the morning. It was home.

"You'll like this place better. I promise." I frowned but I trusted her.

The car ride wasn't super long, just 20 minutes. We were driving out of DC and surprisingly, there was a lot of country. This looked more like home. "Where are we going?" I asked again.

"It's a surprise baby." She rested her hand on my upper thigh, playing with the frays of my jean shorts. I put my hand over hers and squeezed it. "I want you to be happy here."

"I am happy here. I wouldn't have decided to move here if I didn't want to JJ."

"I know. I'm just saying...it's natural to feel homesick, and it's ok if you're homesick. I just want you to come to me about it instead of acting like everything's ok."

"I'm sorry." I whispered. "I just thought you might get offended."

"We've been together seven months. I wouldn't be offended if you were homesick." She laughed and the car stopped. I looked straight ahead. We were at a farm.

"There are farms in DC?"

"This isn't DC silly." She laughed. "I didn't know you were this clueless about DC geography, Texas." I blushed at the nickname.

"Well I've only lived here for a month and I've only traveled a few blocks from the apartment. Don't judge me."

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes and squeezed my thigh. I got out of the car, my eyes widening when I saw horses.

"Can I go?"

"Yeah baby. You can do whatever you want." She laughed as I ran up to one of the horses, petting its head before hugging its neck. JJ stayed a few steps back, watching with a huge smile on her face.

"Honey come here!"

"No...I'm good."

"Please?" I gave her my best puppy eyes and she couldn't help but give in. She came up behind me and gave me a hug. "Give the horse a hug."

"Baby I'm not comfortable with that."

"But they're so comforting. Look how calm he is! Please. Just a little hug."

"Ok. Fine. Only because I love you." She have my bare shoulder a kiss before moving around to his other side, hugging him loosely."

"Isn't it comforting?" I rested my head against his neck.

"Yeah." She admitted. "I like your hugs better though." I giggled.

"Yeah. My hugs are pretty great." I looked all around, seeing how much land was around. It reminded me of my ranch back in Texas."

"You ok?" JJ asked quietly, walking back over to me and giving me another hug.

"Mhm." She kissed my cheek and my jaw. "It reminds me of Texas. I miss it." I turned my head to peck her lips.

"I know you miss it my love and it's ok to miss it." She rubbed my back.

"We should go home...before I get too attached to this cutie." JJ laughed.

"You mean me, right?"

"No."

"You didn't even hesitate." She backed away.

"Sorry."

"You're definitely not sorry." I laughed and jogged over to her, kissing her gently on the lips.

"Let's go home." I whispered, wrapping my arms around her waist.

"I love you." She pressed a kiss to my forehead, rubbing my back.

"I love you too."