Mother's Instinct

Mother's Instinct

Summary: Emily knows you too well. After all, you are her daughter. Or the one where your mom gives you advice and one where you healed something inside her. Genre: Fluff/Comfort Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Daughter!Reader, Emily Prentiss x Jennifer Jareau (JJ is only mentioned in this fic) Warnings: mention of (Emily's) teenage pregnancy Word count: 3.5K+

A/N:

This is basically a fix-it fic of my life lmao. My mommy issues were at it today so instead of being a grown up and talking to my own mother, I wrote Emily as mine to comfort me. It be like that sometimes. It's normal!

All likes, reblogs, and comments are encouraged and welcome! <3

AO3

You didn’t qualify for the varsity volleyball team of your school. It was devastating because you worked hard in the past year improving your skills and physique just to get in the team. But it seemed like it still wasn’t enough.

The bus dropped you off at home. You opened the door and your mom was already waiting for you in the living room. Emily immediately noticed your red, puffy eyes and your somber demeanor and rushed over to you from the couch.

“Hey, sweetheart. What happened?” Emily said, pulling you in a tight hug. Her mother’s instincts quickly kicked in and all she wanted was to protect you from whatever it was that made you cry.

“I-I’m fine, mom. Just tired.” You answered, voice barely above a whisper.

She gave you a sympathetic look and tilted your chin up to look at her. The sight of you, clearly in distress, broke her heart. “I’m not an idiot, sweetheart. Did something happen at school?”

When you didn’t answer, she tried again, “Sweetheart, it’s okay. You can tell me anything.” Emily didn’t let you go. Her hand rested on the back of your head, gently stroking your hair. “I won’t judge you. I’m your mom.”

You pulled away from the hug to look her in the eyes. “I didn’t get in the volleyball line up.” You said quietly, almost on the verge of tears again.

A small gasp escaped Emily’s lips. She knew how much you loved the sport and how much you practiced the past year just to get into the varsity team. Emily even asked JJ for a favor to help you practice during the weekends that they’re not called for work and JJ was more than happy to spend those times with you.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Emily pulled you back into her arms. “It’s hard being dealt with a bad hand, but it’s what you do after that defines you. You love volleyball, and I’m not taking away how upset you are, but you have to pick yourself up. You can look back at your old plays, see where you can improve. I know you’re determined and you’ll get there, okay?”

You nodded your head and wrapped your arms around your mother’s waist, burying your head on her chest.

After a few moments of quiet, just holding you, she spoke again, “How about a movie day to make you feel a bit better, yeah?”

“Okay.”

Emily took your hand and led you over to the sofa. “You go choose a movie and I’ll get some popcorn and soda, alright?”

“Thank you, mom.”

She gave you a reassuring smile and squeezed your shoulders. “Of course, sweetheart. You’re my daughter. I’ll always be here for you no matter what.”

You looked up at her. “You don’t have work today?”

Emily shook her head. “I took the day off. I wanted to spend the day with my favorite daughter.”

“Mom, I’m your only daughter.”

“That’s why you’re my favorite.” She let out a laugh, sticking her tongue out at you. “Alright, I’ll get the snacks then we can watch a film.”

Emily went to the kitchen for a few minutes then returned carrying a big bowl of popcorn and sodas in her arms. She settled down next to you.

The movie soon was playing on the TV, and she placed her arm around you as she handed the can of soda she opened for you.

“Thank you.” You turned to look at her. “You’re the best mom in the world.”

Emily couldn’t help the fond smile on her face, holding you tighter as she spoke jokingly, “Stop it. You’re going to make me cry.” She kissed the top of your head.

You smiled back. “Where’s your girlfriend? JJ didn’t take the day off?”

“No, she had to go to work today. I’m all yours for the entire day today.”

“Okay. I’m not complaining.”

“I’m glad you’re not complaining.” She then glanced at the movie starting. “Now, eyes on the movie.”

The two of you continued to sit and watch the film, eating popcorn.

Half way through, she noticed a small look on your face. “Everything okay, sweetheart?” She asked gently, a small hint of concern in her voice.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You answered almost too quickly.

Emily let out a soft sigh. “Sweetheart, I can tell when you’re keeping something from me.”

“It’s nothing, mom.”

Emily nodded but she wasn’t convinced at all. She knew there was something on your mind but decided not to press it further. After all, she didn’t want to argue on the whole day that she got to spend with you.

Instead, she put her arm around you again, holding you against her in a loose hug as you continued to watch the movie.

The movie continued, but she still couldn’t help but notice the look on your face. It was as if there was something you wanted to say but didn’t.

Finally, after a couple more moments of internal debate, Emily spoke again, “You know you can talk to me if there’s something bothering you, right?”

“I know that, mom.”

“So if there’s something on your mind, you can tell me. I won’t judge you, sweetheart.” Emily held you a little tighter in her arms, as much as it was a simple embrace, it was also a silent show of support.

You let out a deep sigh. “I just feel a little insecure about my skills. That’s all.”

She gave you a gentle squeeze, a sympathetic look on her face. “Oh, sweetheart, I know how much you love volleyball.” Emily took a moment before gently tilting your chin up to look at her. “You know even the most talented players doubted themselves at one point. It’s okay to feel insecure about your skills, but you can’t let it pull you down, okay? Not when you’re so passionate about it, yeah?”

Your eyes glistened as you looked up at her. You didn’t fully get it, how your mother was not disappointed in you at all. Instead, she even encouraged and supported you more.

“Thank you, mom.” You replied. “I’ll probably try again next year.”

Emily smiled proudly, gently ruffling your hair, a habit that she’d had since you were little. “There’s my girl.”

You flashed a grateful smile and she smiled right back at you, continuing to play with your hair, something that always used to soothe you when you were a child.

“You know I love you and I’m always going to be here for you, right?”

You nodded. “I love you too.”

Emily pressed another kiss on the side of your head. She then paused for a moment, studying your face, the anxiety about volleyball still lingering in your eyes, and for a moment, she thought she knew exactly what had been bugging you. But she pushed the thought away. She was probably overthinking it now.

She put her focus back on the movie instead.

The movie continued to play, but while your focus was on the screen, her mind was elsewhere. It was as though her motherly instinct had been triggered. She could always tell when something was on your mind, and even though she had done her best to reassure you and make you feel better, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to your insecurities than just volleyball. There was something else behind your eyes that you weren’t saying.

Emily was unable to help herself so she spoke, cutting through the silence of the movie. “Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?” You said, still focused on the screen.

Emily paused for a moment, wanting to choose her words carefully. The last thing she wanted was to upset you. “I don’t mean to press or be annoying, but … is there something else bothering you? Other than volleyball, I mean…”

You turned to her, curiosity in your eyes. “How can you tell?”

She took a deep breath. “You said you were worried about volleyball, then when I said you’ll get there, there was still something behind your eyes. As if it wasn’t the whole reason you were feeling the way you do. I know when you’re hiding something from me, sweetheart. We both know you can’t lie to me, even when you think you can.”

You let out a soft sigh, then chuckled lightly. “Are you profiling me now, mom?”

Emily let out an amused laugh. She wasn’t expecting that response, but she probably should have. After all, where would you get your smartass quality if not from her?

Emily met your gaze, a gentle look on her face. “I guess, I am. And right now, you’re not telling me the entire truth.”

You rolled your eyes but there was no real annoyance behind it. “I guess you’re really good at your job.”

“And I guess you’re terrible at lying.”

“This other girl got in the team.” You admitted sadly.

“Was she good?”

“Yes, and I swear I-I’m not jealous she got the spot or anything… I just…”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. She was hesitant at first but the way your cheeks turned red was a dead giveaway. “You like her, don’t you?”

“I… uhm…” You stammered, looking at the floor.

A small smile appeared on Emily’s face. “That wasn’t a no.” 

You started picking on your nails, a habit that you clearly inherited from your mother. Emily quickly held your hand. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m not angry or anything. I’m just curious. So… you like this girl?”

“Y-yes,” you said, biting your lip nervously.

A soft smile appeared on her face. She could tell you were embarrassed, and hoped she wasn’t making the situation worse. But she couldn’t help but want to push the conversation further. “This is the first girl you’ve ever liked, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“And just how much do you like this girl, sweetheart?”

You shrugged, pouting. “I don’t know… she… I sometimes feel like I’m about to throw up because my stomach feels funny when I’m around her. It’s … embarrassing, mom.”

Emily chuckled, squeezing your shoulder. “So you get butterflies when you’re with her.”

“I guess.” You sighed in defeat. “I just… I wanted to play for the team… with her, you know.”

“Are you sure it’s just about playing volleyball with her, sweetheart? Because you know, you can probably still do that with her, with or without you on the team.”

You thought about it for a minute, eyes staring at the movie but your focus was on your mom’s question. She waited for you to answer. After a moment of contemplation, you finally said, “I think… I want her to be… my friend… but also… more than that. I don’t know…”

She smiled warmly at the shy look on your face. “Sweetheart, it’s perfectly natural to like someone, especially at your age. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You turned to your mother, a serious and curious look on your face. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.” Emily smiled warmly at you.

“How did you know…? I mean, with JJ, how did you know?”

Emily chuckled, silently surprised that you’re asking about her own relationship. “Well, you know, JJ and I have known each other for almost five years now, right?”

“Yeah, you work together.”

“That’s right. And before we got together, JJ and I were colleagues. Eventually, she became someone I trusted and became a dear friend.” When she saw you nod, she continued, “Slowly, over time, that friendship turned into something more. We developed a love that  was deeper than we ever thought possible.”

“How did you know she was more than just a friend, mom?”

“At the time, there was a guy that liked JJ. He was kind and a nice guy, but his accent was just terrible.” Emily chuckled at the memory of Will Lamontagne Jr. “Anyway, that’s not the point. I knew she was more than just a friend to me when I was worried I’m going to lose her… to him.”

You smirked at her. “So you were jealous?”

Emily glared at you. “You will never tell JJ, got it?” You zipped your mouth. “But I was.”

“Was it weird? Going from friends to… girlfriends?”

She smiled at the question, then laughed softly to herself, remembering how scared she was to make the leap in the first place. “Sweetheart, more than weird, I was terrified. I was so scared it would ruin our friendship, that I’m about to lose my best friend because of these feelings I have for her.”

You were more amused by your mother’s confession now than the movie. You took the bowl of popcorn in your arms and started listening intently. The movie was completely forgotten and was now just a background noise.

“Then, how did it happen?” You asked curiously.

“After the case in New Orleans, I couldn’t wait one more day without telling her. When we flew back home, I immediately went home to you. JJ wanted to see you as well so she went home with me. You were twelve at the time and I told JJ you’re too old for legos but she brought you a set, anyway. Remember that?”

You beamed at the memory. “Yeah, it was a whole big box of them. I was so excited.”

“It was that night, when you were in your room and building your little lego castle, that I told her about my feelings. And luckily, it turned out that she had felt the same way I had, for just as long as I had, and she was just as terrified about telling me.”

You gulped down the rest of your soda and let out a small burp before asking, “And… uh, she didn’t mind? That… you have me?”

Emily smiled, knowing exactly what you meant to ask. She placed a hand on your knee, her voice soft and laced with sincerity. “No, sweetheart, she didn’t mind that I have a daughter nor that I am a mother. In fact, having you actually made us closer. And before you ask, JJ and I being girlfriends, didn’t affect the way she treated you. JJ loves you very much.”

You nodded in understanding.

“But sweetheart, I’m curious, why were you suddenly asking about that? Is there any particular reason?”

You shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. “I don’t know. Some of my friends have divorced parents and they said that… sometimes their parent’s partners didn’t like them… having kids.” A slight grimace appeared on your face.

“Oh, sweetheart, come here.” You scooted closer to her. She wrapped an arm on your shoulder. “Any person that a parent might be dating and treats their kid differently or badly just because they exist is an idiot, alright?”

“I just…” You fidgeted on the empty soda can on your hand. “I don’t want JJ to feel uncomfortable since you love her.”

Emily’s protective nature took over. “I want you to listen to me very carefully, okay?” She said, her voice gentle yet firm and stern. “I am a hundred percent sure that JJ does not mind the fact that I have you, and I can guarantee that she will not love me or treat me differently just because I am a mother. Do you understand, sweetheart?”

You swallowed thickly. “Yes, mom.”

She patted your knee. “Good. Because I have no doubts about how JJ feels about us and you, okay? I would never ever bring someone in our lives that would harm us or keep us apart. So you don’t have to worry about anything, alright?”

“I trust you, mom. And JJ too.”

“All of that being said… and I know it’s not my business, but I am going to ask you anyway, what are you worried about if you tell this girl that you like her?”

You scoffed. “I might faint?”

Emily couldn’t contain her laughter at your answer. “While that is a pretty accurate reaction to telling someone that you like them, it’s not what I meant.” She chuckled again, before continuing, her voice soft and encouraging. “I meant… what are you worried will happen if this girl knows you like her?”

“I’m scared she might reject me.”

Emily took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s normal to be scared of the possibility of rejection, sweetheart, but if she means a lot to you, then confessing your feelings for her is worth it no matter what the outcome will be.”

You squeezed her hand back, smiling in reassurance. “I’ll think about it, mom.”

“That’s a good girl.” She patted your knee. “And sweetheart, promise me that, no matter what happens, be it a good response or a bad one, that you’ll come and talk to me, okay?”

“Of course, mom. You’re my best friend.” 

Emily was caught off guard when you quickly launched yourself to give her a hug. After a few seconds, she returned the hug, wrapping her arms protectively and lovingly around you and held you close. “What’s this for?”

“For being the best mom.”

She smiled fondly at the compliment, holding the hug for a little while longer.

“So…” She gently stroked your hair as you pulled back from the hug. “Since I’ve given you some good advice to think about, is there anything else you’d like to ask me, sweetheart?”

You hesitated for a moment, but you knew your mom could read you so well and there was no use keeping it to yourself. “D-did you ever… regret… having me?”

Emily was taken aback by your question, as it was the last thing she’d expect you to ask. “Sweetheart, look at me. I promise you… I have never, and never will, regret anything about having you. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. And even to JJ.” She said in a soft but firm tone, making sure you looked and believed every word she said.

“It’s just… I’m fifteen now. It was the same age you had me. You were so young. I can’t… I can’t imagine what that must be like for you.”

“Yes, I had you young. It was unexpected. But you, my darling girl, are the best thing that ever happened to me.” She reassured you, stroking your cheek gently.

You frowned a little. “Even when the sperm donor - I refuse to call him a father - didn’t want anything to do with you or me?”

Emily chuckled, slightly annoyed just knowing you would even mention the ‘sperm donor’ and his selfishness. “Sweetheart, the moment I found out I was pregnant, the sperm donor no longer had a say in anything. Not to me or to you. He was a cowardly loser. But you, sweetheart, were everything.”

“I hope I don’t remind you of him.” You gave a small pout.

“How could you, sweetheart? You do not remind me of him in any way and never will. You are the product of my blood and my love. Every bit of you is me.”

Your heart could explode from the overwhelming love of your mom that you felt a little stupid for even thinking she’d be reminded of some loser in her past. “Everything I am is from you.. and everything I will be is because I have you as my mom.” You told her lovingly.

Emily smiled, touched by the statement and feeling overwhelmed with the love she had for you.

“You’re good at this, at being my mom. I hope you know that,” you added.

She was moved by your words, it was hitting her heart hard as well. She held your face gently in her hands, looking into your eyes. “And I hope you know, despite how unconventional or unexpected it all was, being your mom was one of the best things that ever happened to me.” Emily swallowed the lump in her throat before continuing, “I may not have been the best mom at fifteen, but the first time I saw you and held you and knew that you were mine, I loved you more than anything.”

“You did the best you could.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. I tried my best, but I know I could’ve done so much more back then. I should've been a better mother to you from the start.”

“You were just a kid too.”

“You’re right. A fifteen-year-old kid who got pregnant unexpectedly.”

“And I’m fifteen now and I can’t imagine that happening to me so… whatever you did wrong or could have done better, all is forgiven, mom.” You squeezed her hand reassuringly. “And you’re the best mother now.”

Emily pursed her lips, trying not to let the tears burst. She didn’t even know how she badly needed to hear you say those words. And how it felt like something inside her was now healed. How did she get so lucky to have such an understanding and mature kid?

She held you close, kissing the top of your head. Emily felt even more grateful and proud to have you in her life. “Thank you, sweetheart. I love you with my whole heart.”

“I love you too, mom.”

☽ 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 | 𝘌𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘴

summary: in which the tension between you and emily finally causes you both to crack on a case in New Orleans, and it was worth the wait.

pairing: Emily Prentiss x BAU!Female Reader

warnings: SMUT!!,

word count: 1.9k

note: this is my first ever attempt at smut…

The air was thick with humidity and the subtle chill of the air conditioning in your hotel room, but the tension between you and Emily Prentiss was palpable—like the atmosphere before a storm. You’d been with the BAU for three years, long enough to see people come and go. Elle had been your go-to for casual flirting, a fun way to unwind after a tough case. But with her gone, the dynamic shifted.

Emily had only joined the team a few weeks ago, but she brought a quiet intensity with her, one that simmered just below the surface. You noticed it during cases, especially this one in New Orleans. The team had been called down after a hurricane tore through the city, and while the case was brutal, it was the moments after hours, catching up with drinks at the bar or unwinding at the hotel, where the real storm brewed. There was something unspoken between the two of you—a line neither of you had crossed. Yet.

The buddy system in place meant you were paired up for the night, sharing a double bed at the hotel, thanks to overcrowding. It wasn’t uncommon for you to room with one of the girls—you hated getting hot during the night, so you preferred sharing a room with someone who wouldn’t mind your minimal sleep attire. But this time, it felt different.

After settling in, you headed toward the bathroom, your mind elsewhere—probably on the case, or so you tried to tell yourself. As you pushed the door open, you were immediately greeted by a wave of steam. You frowned, confused at first, before your eyes landed on Emily. Wrapped in a towel, her damp hair clinging to her neck, she stared back at you wide-eyed as if caught off guard.

“Oh—shit, sorry!” you yelped, heart skipping a beat. She nearly dropped the towel in surprise, but thankfully, her quick reflexes saved the situation.

“No, it’s fine,” she said, her voice casual, but you noticed the slightest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Should’ve locked the door.”

You backed out quickly, your pulse racing as you closed the door behind you. Jesus, you thought, trying to calm the pounding in your chest. The image of her, fresh out of the shower, skin still glistening with moisture, was now seared into your mind. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, reminding yourself that she was your coworker.

“Sorry about that,” you apologized again as you grabbed your pajamas, trying to play it cool.

“No big deal,” she shrugged, but you could feel her eyes on you as you headed back into the bathroom, this time to get ready for bed yourself.

When you emerged, you were hyper-aware of her gaze as you walked over to your side of the bed. Dressed in your typical sleep attire—tiny shorts and a thin camisole—you could practically feel her eyes trailing up and down your body. The room was quiet except for the hum of the air conditioner, which you had insisted on turning up. You hated being too hot at night, and the cool air washed over you, hardening your nipples under your shirt, which Emily undoubtedly noticed.

You sat on the edge of the bed, propping one leg up as you lazily applied lotion to your legs, your mind drifting back to her. Emily was undeniably hot—more than just a little crush-worthy. But she was also your coworker, someone you saw every day. Still, you couldn’t shake the thought of how her towel had nearly slipped. How close you had been to seeing more.

“So,” Emily’s voice broke the silence, a little deeper than usual, “You always wear that to bed?”

You glanced at her, catching the playful tone behind her words. “What, this?” you smirked, gesturing to your shorts and tank. “I don’t like getting overheated at night. You’ve seen worse, trust me.”

Her eyes darkened ever so slightly as she leaned back on the bed, her gaze lingering on you a little too long before she reached for the lamp beside her. She flicked it off, and the room dimmed, leaving only the faint moonlight streaming in through the curtains.

You followed suit, turning off your lamp, then lying down beside her. The bed wasn’t big—it was just a standard double—and you were very aware of how close you were to her. Your arm rested under your head as you stared at the ceiling, the tension thick in the air, and for a moment, you swore you could hear her breathing faster.

You turned your head slightly, glancing at her in the faint light. She was staring at you, her mouth slightly parted as though she wanted to say something but was holding back. You could see the slight rise and fall of her chest, and your mind kept flashing back to that split second when her towel had almost dropped.

“Emily…” you whispered, unsure of what to say, unsure of what was about to happen.

But then her hand moved—slowly, tentatively—up your thigh. Your breath hitched as you felt the heat between your legs intensify. The moment her fingers brushed against your bare skin, you shuddered, and all your restraint shattered.

You surged forward, capturing her lips in a sloppy, needy kiss. It was frantic, desperate, all the tension that had been building between you two spilling over in an instant. Emily’s hands roamed your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When she pinched your nipple softly, you let out a soft moan, rolling over onto her, straddling her thigh. She licked her lips as she felt your arousal pressing against her.

“You’re so wet,” she whispered, her voice husky as her hands slid under your camisole, pulling it off in one swift motion.

You quickly worked on removing her top as well, your lips leaving a fiery trail down her jawline and between the valley of her breasts. Your mouth latched onto one nipple while your fingers teased the other, switching between them as her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer.

With a low moan, Emily flipped you over, pinning you beneath her. Her eyes were dark with lust, and you knew she wasn’t done with you yet.

“You’ve been teasing me for weeks,” she growled softly, her lips ghosting over yours, “Now, I’m going to make you pay for it.”

And with that, the storm between you two finally broke.

Emily’s lips left a blazing trail of kisses down your chest, her tongue flicking teasingly at each of your nipples as you squirmed beneath her. The ache between your legs was becoming unbearable, and you felt your pulse quicken as she moved lower, her eyes locked on yours from beneath her dark lashes.

When her breath hit the sensitive skin of your lower abdomen, you whimpered, your hips rising involuntarily to meet her. But with a firm hand, she pushed you back down, a smirk playing at her lips.

“Patience,” she tutted softly, her voice dripping with control. She released your wrists from her grip, and her fingers curled around the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down slowly, as though savoring the moment.

Her eyes darkened when she saw you—your waxed, glistening pussy on full display for her. The need radiating from your body was obvious, and she spread your legs wider, her hot breath ghosting over your inner thighs as she placed gentle kisses on the sensitive skin there. Each touch of her lips sent a shiver down your spine, your hands fisting the sheets as you bit back a whimper.

But when she didn’t move closer, your desperation spilled over.

“Please, Emily,” you gasped, your voice hoarse with need. “I need you. I need your mouth on me. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

She paused for just a moment, her smirk widening as her eyes flickered up to meet yours. “That’s better,” she murmured before finally giving in.

Her tongue swiped through your slick folds, a slow, deliberate motion that had your whole body arching off the bed. A satisfied hum escaped her lips as she tasted you, her eyes still locked on yours, watching your every reaction.

Your hands flew to her hair, tangling in the dark strands as she found a rhythm, her tongue flicking against your clit with a steady precision that had you teetering on the edge of an orgasm within minutes.

“Fuck—Emily, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you gasped, your voice breathless as the pressure built inside you, your hips bucking against her face.

Just as you were about to tip over the edge, she pulled away. A frustrated whine escaped your lips as your orgasm slipped away, leaving you desperate and aching.

“Emily, please,” you pleaded, your voice trembling.

She didn’t respond with words, but instead crawled back up your body, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. Your legs wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, and you moaned into her mouth as you tasted yourself on her tongue.

When her body pressed fully against yours, skin on skin, the sensation made you dizzy with need. But this time, it was your turn. With a swift movement, you flipped her onto her back, kissing your way down her body with equal intensity.

You stopped at her thighs, your hands gripping them firmly as you spread her legs. Emily’s pussy was soft and flushed, with a small tuft of dark hair, and the sight made your mouth water. You leaned in, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh, relishing the way her breath hitched in anticipation.

“God, Y/N,” she breathed, her voice low and desperate. “Please... please... I need you to make me come.”

Her pleas sent a thrill through you, and without another word, you lowered your mouth to her. Your tongue flicked out, tasting her for the first time, and the soft moan she let out in response made you smile against her.

You licked a slow, deliberate path up her folds, then flicked your tongue against her clit, and her body jerked in response. Her hands flew to her breasts, squeezing them as she let out a series of breathless moans.

“Yes—fuck, just like that,” she panted, her head rolling back onto the pillow, her eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. “Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop.”

You were more than happy to oblige, your tongue working her steadily as her moans grew louder and more desperate. You sucked lightly on her clit, alternating between gentle flicks and firm strokes, and soon enough, her whole body was trembling beneath you.

“Y/N—oh my God, I’m gonna come—” she gasped, her voice breaking with the intensity of her need.

With a final, skilled flick of your tongue, you sent her over the edge. Emily’s entire body tensed, her back arching off the bed as she cried out your name, her hands fisting the sheets as she came hard against your mouth.

You didn’t stop until she was fully spent, her body trembling and her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Only then did you pull away, a satisfied grin on your face as you wiped your mouth.

Before you could move, Emily grabbed you, pulling you up to her and crashing her lips against yours. The taste of her arousal on your tongue made her moan softly, her hands cupping your face as she kissed you with a renewed hunger.

But you were still aching for release, and she knew it. Without breaking the kiss, she slid her hand between your bodies, her fingers dipping between your folds, slick with arousal.

“Now it’s your turn,” she whispered against your lips, her fingers teasing your entrance.

You shuddered, bucking your hips against her hand, desperate for the release she was about to give you.

don’t forget to like, reblog, comment, or anything really <3

god i love this, all their thoughtful gifts omg, sobbing

The Butternut Squash (The Surprise, Part 19)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: pregnancy times, mentions of female anatomy/breastfeeding, explicit language (let me know if I missed anything!) Word count: 2.2k

Summary: You and Emily don't really need a baby shower, but you do need help getting the nursery ready, so the whole BAU comes over one Saturday to help out.

Week 29: The Butternut Squash

You had insisted on no gifts. You and Emily had plenty of money. You didn’t need a registry, and you didn’t need a baby shower. What you did need was help getting the nursery decorated and set up. So Emily–fresh off a 4-day case–had invited the entire BAU over to help prep the nursery on a rare, free Saturday.

“Emily,” you complained that Friday morning when she came home. “I won’t even have time to make food!”

“You don’t need time to make food,” she chastised, wrapping her arms around you from behind and resting her chin on your shoulder. “Because we’re just gonna have it delivered.”

You scoffed. “I always cook, Em. It’s my whole thing!”

She turned you around and grasped your face in her hands, kissing the tip of your nose, then moving to your lips. You huffed impatiently, even as your stomach erupted in butterflies (and maybe a few kicks from the baby) when Emily kissed you. “Okay, well, right now your whole thing is being seven months pregnant, so…”

“I could at least make cookies…” you grumbled. “If you get me chocolate chips from the store?”

Emily raised her eyebrows at you, but smiled lightly. “Will it make you happy?”

“Mmhm,” you confirmed, turning on the charm and your very best puppy dog eyes.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, kissing you one more time for good measure and grabbing her keys from the counter. “I can’t say no to you when you look at me like that.”

“Thank you, my love!” you called after her, a little too giddy with your grocery store victory.

“Yeah, yeah…” she muttered, shutting the door, but you knew she was smiling behind it.

But, now, here you were. Saturday, mid-morning. A plate of fresh-baked, homemade brown butter chocolate chip cookies on a plate on the coffee table… along with gifts from every single member of the BAU. Despite insisting they not bring any.

Hotch sat in the living room with you, playing Mario Kart on the Switch with Dave and Jack. Penelope gossiped with you on the couch. Meanwhile, Emily was running operations in the nursery, and every so often you could hear her ordering Derek and Spencer around. It made you giggle. JJ squeezed your shoulder, hovering back and forth between rooms.

“You need anything, Y/N?” she asked.

“I’m okay,” you assured her. “Thanks, JJ. Just… make sure Emily doesn’t get too bossy.”

JJ laughed. “Oh, I’m not sure anyone can do that.”

“Can we do gifts now? I think we should do gifts! Open mine, Y/N!” Penelope insisted, patting the spot next to her on the couch for JJ and handing you a glittery gift bag. You should’ve known they wouldn’t listen when you’d said not to bring gifts. You would’ve done the same thing. They were your family, after all.

You pulled out the tissue paper to reveal several tiny baby onesies in bright colors with adorable designs and sayings. Happy Camper. Silly Little Bear. Even one with tiny dinosaurs all over that said Babysaurus. Your heart felt like it might burst thinking about how cute your little one was going to look in these.

“Penelope, these are so cute!” You wrapped her in a hug. “I’m gonna send you so many pictures of her in these!”

“I know you guys are waiting to find out the gender, so I tried to pick ones that were gender neutral. Although, I mean I guess technically every outfit is gender neutral or… should be, or–”

You stopped her before she spiraled. “They’re perfect."

Before you knew it, Jack was pressed up against you, shoving another gift bag into your hands.

“Open ours, Aunt Y/N!”

You wrapped an arm around him and gave him a squeeze. “Thanks, buddy. I can’t wait to see what it is!”

You pulled out the most adorable stuffed gray wolf, soft as velvet, complete with two little pointy felt teeth sticking out.

“Oh, Jack, it’s perfect!”

“His name is Wolfie,” Jack told you, snatching the toy back.

“Jack,” Hotch scolded. “Remember, that’s for Aunt Emily and Aunt Y/N’s baby. It’s not yours.”

Hotch looked at you apologetically, and you shook your head to let him know it wasn’t a big deal.

“I made you this picture, too,” Jack said, handing you a crumpled piece of paper. You smoothed it out to find stick figures of you and Emily. He’d drawn your belly as a big circle, with a tiny swaddled baby inside of it. You grinned.

“Now, this is art, Jack. This is going right on the fridge.”

“This is you,” he said, pointing. “And this is Aunt Emily. And this is the baby inside your tummy.”

Speaking of the baby, she was incredibly active right now. Almost as if she, too, was happy to be with her BAU family.

“You want to feel her kick?” you asked Jack, and he nodded. You grasped his hand in yours and pressed it over your baby bump, estimating at the last place she’d kicked. Jack screeched when he felt her kick his hand, jumping on his tiptoes.

“Oh my gosh!” he squealed. “Oh my gosh! Daddy, there’s an alive baby in there!”

Hotch smiled at you. He was such a good dad. A good team leader. A good friend to you and Emily.

“After she’s born, Jack, you’ll have to come over and hold her,” you told him, but he was already gone, distracted the Switch.

“Aw, crap,” Dave exclaimed as Hotch hit him with a red shell. Hotch chuckled. “Y/N, go ahead and open up mine,” Dave said. “I’ve already lost this race. It’s the one with the silver paper.”

Penelope grabbed the gift for you, since your arms wouldn’t quite reach all the way to the coffee table. You ripped off the paper to reveal a box set that read, “Ciao Pasta Bistro.” It included a tiny little metal stock pot and colander, little ladles, and soft felt pasta shapes–bowties and raviolis and elbow noodles and shells.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, looking it over. Penelope and JJ leaned next to you to get a closer look. “This is freaking adorable.”

“The little meatball’s gonna know her pasta shapes if Uncle Dave has anything to say about it!” Dave called, cheering as he zoomed past Hotch with Star Power.

“Thank you so much, Dave,” you said, and you really meant it. They were such thoughtful gifts, so particular to each of them. You couldn't wait to show the baby, to let her get to know her BAU family, too.

JJ waited until everyone was distracted and Penelope had been dragged into Mario Kart (“Okay, but I’ll win! They don’t call me a tech goddess for nothing!”) to give you her gift. She sat next to you and pulled a bag from underneath the coffee table.

“These are more for you than for the baby,” JJ explained. “But if your pregnancy is anything like mine, you’ll get plenty of baby gifts, but not a whole lot of mom gifts.”

“That’s really thoughtful of you, JJ.” You squeezed her hand.

She pulled things out one by one, displaying them discreetly and explaining their purpose. “Listen, your nipples will hurt so bad. So bad. Just telling it like it is. So…” She held up a plastic tube. “Nipple cream. This one was my favorite. Also, silver nursing cups. I can’t explain why the silver makes them less sore, but it does.”

You nodded, feeling both overwhelmed and extremely grateful. “It’s basic, but there’s also a food delivery gift card in here. I know you love to cook, but I promise you’re not gonna feel like it for a while after giving birth.”

“JJ, I don’t know what to say. This is so nice.”

She held up a finger to stop you. “Last gift.” She pointed to herself. “Me and Will. We’re happy to babysit. Often, if you like.” When she saw you start to protest, she said, “Look, Henry’s getting older, and I really miss baby snuggles. So it’s really no trouble at all.”

You felt like you might cry. It wasn’t that nobody paid attention to you or took care of you during your pregnancy. Emily took excellent care of you. It was just that JJ was right. Most people looked at the end of your pregnancy and the birth of the baby as the end of the hard part for the birthing parent. But you knew that wasn’t going to be the case. And JJ knew, too. You were so grateful for her friendship, for her support.

“Thank you so much, JJ,” you said quietly, pulling her in for a hug.

“Oh, are you opening gifts?” Spencer asked, entering the room and hovering quietly behind you.

“Yep!” you said, watching him retrieve a tidy package wrapped in newspapers and hand it to you. You looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Are you guys done with the nursery already!?”

Spencer chuckled. “Oh, no. Not even close. I just snuck out while Emily was yelling at Morgan.”

You shrugged and started tearing the paper. “That tracks.”

Inside Spencer’s package was a set of colorful board books with titles like Quantum Physics for Babies, General Relativity for Babies, and Rocket Science for Babies.

“Spencer, these are awesome!” you exclaimed, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “Baby Prentiss is gonna be a genius.”

“You know, that’s probably true,” Spencer observed, taking Penelope's place in front of the TV next to Jack. “Scientifically speaking, children inherit their intelligence from their mother, not their father. So no matter how intelligent or unintelligent the donor was, the baby will inherit your intellect. And you’re really smart, so it’s likely the baby will be, too.”

“Trust Reid to come with a prepped science lesson,” Emily said, poking her head around the corner.

You threw a balled-up piece of wrapping paper in Emily’s general direction. “Zip it, Em! I like hearing about what Spencer knows.”

“Nerd,” she muttered under her breath, coming up behind you to place her hands on your shoulders and kiss the top of your head. “You alright? You need anything?”

You squeezed her hand. “I need you... to stop being so mean to Derek.”

“Thank you!” Derek exclaimed, emerging from the hallway to shove Emily out of the way and plant a kiss on your cheek. “It’s nice to know someone around here cares about Uncle Derek.”

Emily shoved him back. “Yeah, well, I don’t want to have to tell the little butternut squash that you wussed out of painting his nursery one wall in.”

Derek grabbed one of the cookies from the coffee table and took a bite, momentarily closing his eyes in enjoyment. You smiled. This is why you loved cooking and baking.

“Listen, Prentiss,” he teased. “I’m taking a well-deserved break. You’re lucky I love your girl or I wouldn’t put up with this shit.”

“Ooh!” Jack squealed. “He said a bad word!”

Derek looked at Hotch apologetically, then reached down to grab the last unopened gift bag. 

“Here, mama,” he said, handing it to you. “Saved the best for last.”

You grinned at him, handing Emily the loose tissue paper as you opened the gift. Inside was a collection of soft toys that included a football, a whistle, and a little number one finger.

“Oh, man, are we gonna have a little football fan, Uncle Derek?” you asked, grinning cheekily.

“Not just any football fan,” he insisted. “There’s one more thing in there.”

You pulled out a tiny Chicago Bears onesie, complete with a number 34 on the back for Walter Payton.

“A Bears fan, huh?” you said, smiling from ear to ear.

“I figured since the little guy or gal’s gonna be born right as football season’s kicking off, he’ll spend a lot of time on the couch watching the games with Uncle Derek. And we gotta be decked out in our matching gear.”

“If you let us sleep, Morgan,” Emily said, squeezing his shoulder playfully. “You can indoctrinate my son into being a sports fan all you want.”

“Or daughter!” you protested, and the whole team laughed. By now, your faux-feud over the baby’s gender was well-known. They were even placing bets. It was about a 50/50 split.

“Alright, guys,” Emily said, clapping her hands together and rallying the troops. “One wall down, two walls to go. And one wall of wallpaper, but I don’t think that’ll take as long.”

JJ, Penelope, Hotch, and Dave stood to follow Emily to the nursery while Derek took a seat next to you. Spencer sat cross-legged on the floor with Jack, fully immersed in Mario Kart.

“Be there in a second, Emily,” he called. “We’re about to start Rainbow Road.”

You grinned, so glad to be surrounded by Emily’s family–her real family. Happy that you had people who were excited for you, people who took care of you, people who gave up their Saturday to help you get ready to welcome a new family member.

“Hey, Jack, add me and Derek in for the next round,” you said, lowering yourself gently onto the floor, Derek’s hand instinctively grasping yours to support you. “I play a mean Moo Moo Meadows.”

Sweet Understanding - Emily Prentiss

Summary: Reader has a rough day at work and Emily knows just how to relieve some stress.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: reader has sensory issues but specific condition is not mentioned. inspired by my real life experiences, i have adhd and get very easily overstimulated so i did get a little self indulgent with this one lol

TW: fingering, oral sex, praise kink, afab reader, use of “girl” and she/her pronouns in reference to reader, mentions of sensory issues, borderline excessive use of pet names, reader is submissive & slightly unsure of herself

Rating: R, there’s a lot of fluff here but it develops into smut so 18+ only please!

——

You shut the door a little too hard behind you as you dropped your bag to the floor, sigh of relief falling from your lips.

“What’s wrong baby?” Emily questioned, getting up from her place on the couch to walk over to you. Her slender arms wrapped around your frame, pulling you into a much-needed hug after the day you’d had.

“Work was awful, my whole body is sore and I had to fight through how overstimulated everything about that place makes me all day.” You stumbled over your words, your brain struggling to form a coherent thought with how low your social battery was from all of the interactions you had to engage in throughout the day.

“I’m sorry you had a tough day sweet girl, is there anything I can do to help?” Her hand cupped your cheek, thumb swiping softly over your skin. You lean into her touch, looking into her eyes as you search for any semblance of hesitation, but there is none. Emily doesn’t have any reservations about your relationship, she knows how tough your sensory issues are to handle and all she wants is to make life a little easier for you in any way she can. You’re too precious to her, she never wants to see you in pain if she can help it.

“Maybe a bath…together?” You suggest, crimson blush rising over your cheeks. You’re still a little shy to initiate intimacy of any kind, learning to ask for touch from the one person who’s touch you desire most is all so foreign to you after a lifetime of discomfort with contact from others.

“That is an excellent idea, can you get the water running angel? I just have to grab a couple things and I’ll be right in.” You nod and she kisses you on the forehead before parting, making you way to your ensuite bathroom. When Emily was apartment hunting she specifically wanted a tub deep enough to fit two people. As strong as the front she puts up is, she’s really a romantic at heart, and recreating a romcom bubble bath scene had been on her bucket list for awhile. You were grateful for that now, illicit thoughts floating through your mind as you watched the water slowly fill up the tub.

Emily finally joined you, setting your favorite scented lotion on the bathroom counter and pouring some bubble bath into the still-rising water.

“Give me your hands, sweetheart.” She cooed, opening the bottle of lotion and taking a small amount into her palms. She took your hands in hers, her fingers gently massaging the tired muscles in your palms and giving the cracked skin on the back of your hands some much-needed moisture. She knew you couldn’t stand the feeling of your hands being dry, it was one of the seemingly small things that she could help, and she didn’t mind getting to have a little extra time holding your hand.

Once she finished, she helped lift your top over your head, goosebumps forming as the cool air hit your bare skin. You both continued to undress until you were completely bare, your nipples perking at the exposure.

Emily took your hand, letting you brace yourself against her for extra stability as you stepped into the tub, sinking into the warm water. Once you were properly settled she stepped in behind you, her back resting against the side of the tub as she pulled your hips back so you were between her legs, your back flush with her chest. You snuggled into her, resting your head on her shoulder and enjoying the way the warm water soothed your aching legs.

“You’re so beautiful babydoll.” Her voice was smooth, and her praise caused your cheeks to flush again.

“Thank you my love.” You purred, relaxing fully against her. Her fingers began to trace patterns up your sides, fingertips dancing along the sides of your breasts. A chill ran up your spine at the sensitive touch, a dull ache growing between your thighs. Her touch became more intense, hands cupping your breasts, gently kneading as your nipples rubbed against her palms. You whined, growing desperate for more.

“What do you need, sweet girl?” She asked, rolling your nipples between her fingers in hopes of eliciting more sounds from you. It worked, whimpers falling from your lips as she tweaked your sensitive buds.

“Touch me please.” You whine, squirming against her.

“I’m already touching you angel, you need to be more specific.”

“Between my legs, please.” You can’t articulate exactly what you want because you’re honestly not sure, you just want her to do whatever she wants with your pussy.

Her right hand movies to your inner thigh, fingers inching closer until she traces your labia, teasingly rubbing just beside your clit. You whine in frustration before taking her hand in yours and placing her fingers on your clit.

“Right here.” You sigh, closing your eyes in anticipation. She rubs slowly at first, almost agonizingly so before picking up the pace, rubbing quick circles over your bundle of nerves. The water begins to sway ever so slightly around you, her arm movements creating gentle waves. You nuzzle your forehead against her neck, soft moans falling just beneath her ear, spurring her on. Before you know it she’s dipping her index and middle fingers inside of you, thumb taking over rubbing your clit as she curls her fingers inside of you.

You’re losing all semblance of reality, only able to focus on her slender fingers pumping expertly into you, coaxing out desperate whimpers as your release draws closer and closer.

Your walls start to contract around her fingers, telling her you were teetering on the edge of release.

“That’s it sweetheart, let go.” She whispers, holding her pace steady until you cry out, a broken sob wracking your body as euphoria washes over you, the tension that had built up throughout the day finally releasing.

Emily slows her ministrations, helping you work through your orgasm before withdrawing her fingers from your pulsing cunt. She plants a kiss on your forehead once more, looking lovingly into your hazy eyes.

“So good for me, angel.” She praises, letting you recover for a moment. You plant kisses along her jawline, taking your hand in yours.

“Thank you.” You sigh, content to sit here with her until the end of time.

“I’m always happy to help you, no matter what.”

“I know, but you’re always so busy and I don’t want to add any stress, it’s not fair to you.” Guilt starts to creep in slightly as you realize you hadn’t asked how her day was when you got home.

“Baby, the team hasn’t had a case in 2 weeks, I’ve done nothing but paperwork all day. You are under a lot more stress than I am right now, and I know you’ll return the favor so don’t worry about it.” She reassured, squeezing your hand.

“Can I do that now? Return the favor, I mean.” You start to rise from the tub, reaching out your hand to help Emily up. She smiles at you, nodding approval as she steps out. The two of you quickly dry off, trailing into the bedroom.

“How do you want me?” She questions, okay with whatever position is most comfortable for you.

“Sit against the headboard and spread your legs, please.” You tell her, always polite even in your desires. She does just what you ask, giving you a full view of her gorgeous cunt. You climb on the bed with her, moving to lay on your stomach with your head between her legs. You look up at her longingly and she smiles down at you, lightly nodding to give you the go ahead.

You dive in, tongue lapping long flat stripes through her folds, desperate to taste as much of her as possible. You were hungry, savoring the delicious taste of her arousal as you dipped your tongue inside of her. Her hand found its way to your hair, fingers tangling in soft strands as she pulled you closer.

Your hand joined your mouth, fingers sliding into her to feel the warmth of her walls pulsing around them. Your tongue gave kitten licks to her clit, slowly increasing pressure and pace until you had her moaning and grinding her hips against you. You wrapped your lips around her bundle of nerves, sucking as you curled your fingers, knowing just how to take her over the edge. You needed to taste her cum, desperate for the sight of her milky white release on your fingers.

“Don’t stop baby, almost there!” She moaned, lightly tugging your hair as her grip locked.

You used your free hand to reach up and tweak her nipple, the added sensation delicious enough to finally give her the release you both were so desperate for. You gently licked her clit, helping her ride the wave until she relaxed, her cries of ecstasy turning to pants of relief. You removed your fingers, sucking them clean before pressing your tongue flat against her entrance to lap up the rest of her arousal.

“You are incredible.” Her words took a moment to register but the moment they did you could feel your heart swell, she was the incredible one. She made you feel more comfortable than anyone else in your life ever had, and you were so grateful for her.

“I love you.” You climbed up to lay beside her, pulling her in for a kiss. She returned the favor, her arms wrapping around your waist.

“I love you too sweet girl.”

You laid your head on her chest, her fingers toying with your hair until you drifted off to sleep.

——

tag list: @pleasantwitchgarden

DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist :) I’ll be doing separate tag lists for specific characters as well so let me know if you’d like to be on my general or a specific one.

Hii! Could you write something about reader being JJ’s teenage daughter and is in a school shooting. Just for some dramatics and more hurt, she gets shot in the shoulder when she tries to help her friend who’s already shot. (Lots and lots of hurt and then comfort pretty pleeeease <3)

Hey, anon! This is my first time writing something like this, so I hope it's what you're looking for! 💖 –illdowhatiwantthanks

Fight or Flight

Jennifer Jareau x daughter!reader Warnings: HUGE BIG WARNINGS for gun violence, school/active shooter situation, descriptions of injuries/blood, general anxiety/trauma/fear, hurt/comfort (please let me know if I've left something out!) Word count: 2.1k

Summary: You're in the cafeteria, when another student opens fire. When your friend is injured, you have to decide whether to take your mom's advice–"GET OUT"–or stay to keep your friend safe.

You didn’t know it could be so quiet and so loud at the same time. The blood pounding in your ears drowning out everything else so that each scream, each squeak of a tennis shoe against the cafeteria tile, each gunshot, is muffled.

You can’t tell who has the gun, can’t tell where the shots are coming from. The moment you heard the first shot, you were scrambling under the table, so fast, so frantic that you slammed your head on the seat going down and felt blood start to drip down past your brow bone.

You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t settle your eyes anywhere–the whole room just a blur of sound and color. Shaking, you turned to your right to squeeze further under the table and noticed your best friend, Colin, gasping beside you, blood spurting from his lower leg.

He was crying–that was all you could focus on at first. Not the blood, not the sound, not the chaos around you. It was Colin, crying.

You crawled over to him, pressing your hands against the wound and pushing down the bile that rose in your throat at how warm it was. You wanted to say something, wanted to tell him it was going to be okay, or that you were there for him, but you couldn’t manage anything at all. Couldn’t cry or scream or speak or anything. But you met his teary eyes and knew that he knew you weren’t going to leave him.

Your hands weren’t doing much to stop the blood, and the growing pool scared you. You wanted your mom and dad, you needed your mom and dad. Surely, they would have been contacted by now? Surely, the BAU was on their way? This was the kind of thing your mom would get called in for.

The sounds of the bullets grew fainter–the shooter was moving away from the cafeteria. Leaving one hand pressed against Colin’s leg and using the other to pull your phone from your back pocket, you tried to text your mom:

There’s a shooter. Colin shot in leg. So much blood. What to do? I love you

Your mom texted back immediately, and you’d never been more relieved that your go-to was to have your phone on silent for texting during class. Your mom got so mad at you for it. Wanted you to keep it in your locker. Maybe not anymore.

CAN YOU GET OUT??

You sighed, blood seeping through your fingers as tears streamed down Colin’s cheeks.

No bc Colin.

He will be ok. If you can run, RUN. Local police is there. BAU on the way. 

You stared at the text, trying to ignore the pained screams of other students around you, the frantic footsteps of those trying to flee the building. It could be you. You could flee the building. But Colin couldn’t. And you couldn’t leave him, you just couldn’t. It wasn’t who you were. So even though you knew your mom would kill you later, you sent the text anyway:

No. Staying with Colin. He’s bleeding bad. What do I do?

The three dots seemed to last forever. You were sure she was going to yell at you, berate you, order you out of the building. Instead:

Take your hoodie off and wrap it around his leg. 2-3 inches above the wound. Tight as you can.

Then play dead. DO NOT MOVE until police say so. And follow their directions exactly.

You did as she said, using your body weight to pull the hoodie tight around Colin’s leg. You shoved his sleeve into his mouth when he screamed, but it was too late.

Lost in the texts, lost in taking care of Colin, you hadn’t noticed the students running back this way, the gunshots growing louder again. And all of a sudden, a searing, tearing pain shot through your shoulder, and it exploded into a bloody mess. When you saw bone, you thought you might vomit, but every other thought in your head disappeared as a pair of tattered Converse stopped in front of you and Colin. You could see the long end of the rifle trailing at his shins.

You jumped a little when he bent down to look at you, and in that moment you were sure you were going to die. And you wished you’d texted your dad, too, wondered if it would haunt him that you hadn’t. You wished you’d listened a little closer this morning when Henry told you about his latest comic book. Wished that you hadn’t been so quick to wipe the spittle from Michael’s sloppy kiss off your cheek. Wished that you hadn’t gotten on the bus this morning pissed at your mom because she wouldn’t let you go to the beach with your friends this summer. You almost wished you’d done what she said–that’d you’d run–but you’d never have been able to forgive yourself for leaving Colin.

The biggest surprise of all: you recognized the shooter’s face. It was Daniel. From band. Seventh chair trombone. Greasy hair. Pimply face. Even quieter than you. He always wore AC/DC t-shirts. You weren’t friends exactly, but you said hi to him when it was appropriate. You knew he didn’t really have any friends, tried to be nice to him, but you didn’t have much in common, didn’t know what to talk to him about.

“Ugh. Jareau,” he said, as if he was disappointed to see you. “You could’ve left, you know?”

You were shaking so bad your vision was nearly blurry, and your voice felt thick in your throat, like syrup.

“H-hey, Daniel,” you whispered, trembling.

You watched him pull a box of bullets out of his sweatshirt pocket, and open up the gun to reload it. You could run. You could run now. But if you did… well, you couldn’t leave Colin. And you could try to get the gun away from him, but he seemed too alert right now. And the fact of the matter was, Daniel was bigger and stronger than you.

“Honestly, Y/N? Kind of wish you weren’t here. You were kind of nice sometimes.”

“Y-you don’t have to do this,” you told him, inching forward a bit, trying to get close enough to the gun that you could wrest it from his grasp.

“Well, I mean, there’s not really any going back at this point, you know?” he said, clicking the gun back into place and cocking it.

You were frantic now, head spinning. “Wait!” you stuttered. “My m-mom. She’s an FBI agent. She can get you out of here. A-alive.”

You were so close. So close to being able to grab the gun. You turned slightly so that your good arm was closest to Daniel and thanked the universe it was your non-dominant arm that had been hit.

“Hmm,” Daniel said, and you could tell he was faking it. That he was being sarcastic. “Yeah, somehow, I don’t believe you.”

And it was then, as he moved to put the extra ammunition back in his pocket, when his grip would be the least firm, that you lunged forward to grab the gun. You tried your best to keep it pointed to the floor, so that if he pulled the trigger, it’d hit your lower extremities or, better yet, nothing at all. You were scared. You were so, so scared. You didn’t think you’d ever been so scared. Daniel was bigger than you. He was stronger.

But he didn’t have two law enforcement agents as parents. Parents that had put you in self-defense and martial arts classes from the time you could walk. Parents that had taught you how to handle a gun by your tenth birthday.

You kneed Daniel in the groin as hard as you could then, hands shaking, wrestled the gun out of his grip, holding it with ease–or as much ease as you could manage given the circumstances and the searing, throbbing pain in your shoulder–and turning it on Daniel.

You scrambled to your feet, chest heaving, and tried to channel your mom. What would she do? How would she make sure she didn’t lose control of the situation?

Your voice shook, even as you tried to be forceful, assured.

“Get on your knees!” you yelled, pointing the gun at him. “Put your hands behind your head!”

Daniel laughed, and it unnerved you. It scared you.

“Damn, Jareau,” he chuckled. “Didn’t see this coming.”

But you were both caught off-guard by the cafeteria doors slamming open and a flood of armed and armored officers storming through the doors. But their guns weren’t trained on Daniel. They were pointing at you.

“FBI!” they shouted. “On the ground! On the ground!”

You weren’t sure how to put your hands up without moving the gun, and you were afraid if you moved the gun, they’d shoot you. Your knees shook, and you were terrified you were going to fall down.

“Hold your fire!” And this time, your knees really did buckle. You knew that voice.

Your mom shot through the line of arm red officers, sprinting toward you and shoving her gun back into its holster.

“She’s not the shooter!” your mom yelled.

“It’s him,” you called weakly, pointing at Daniel who sat slumped next to you.

“She’s my daughter!” And this time, her voice broke. She collided with you, wrapping you so tightly in her arms, holding you up as all the tears you hadn’t been able to cry came pouring out of you. She had never felt so solid, so warm, so safe. Your mom. You wanted your mom, you needed your mom, and she was here.

“Take it,” you sobbed, shoving the gun away from you toward the other officers, who cuffed Daniel. “Please, take it.”

Your mom ripped off her bulletproof vest to hold you closer to her chest, rocking you on her lap. And she smelled like home. She smelled like the lavender shampoo that you both used, like baby food, like mom.

“I’m here, honey,” she said, pressing kisses into your head and examining your body. “I’m right here. You’re safe. You did so good.”

As paramedics moved in, you waved one down and pointed to Colin, who shook on the floor next to you. “Please!” you cried, sucking in shaky breaths. “My friend needs help!”

“You need help, too, honey,” your mom said, gently, brushing hair off your shoulder to examine the bullet wound. “You think you can stand and walk?”

You nodded, thankful for your mom’s steadiness, her strength, and she wrapped her arms around your body and heaved you to your feet. The rest of her team–your BAU family–stood at a distance, watching, and you knew you’d thank them later, that they’d hug you. Bring you food. Make sure you felt safe again. But you didn’t know how you’d ever feel safe again.

In the ambulance (they let you and your mom ride to the hospital with Colin), you leaned against your mom and she held you tight, so tight, as if she’d never let you go again.

You’d stopped crying for a bit, but the tears started streaming all over again a few minutes later.

“Hey,” your mom cooed, rubbing your good shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“I’m so sorry, Mom,” you cried, shaking.

“Oh, sweetheart.” She turned your head toward her, so that you had to look her in the eye. “Sorry for what?”

“You told me to run, and I didn’t. And–and I was mad at you this morning! I’m so sorry. I was so scared and I thought… I thought I might not get to tell you I love you.”

If you’d looked up, you would have seen your mom blink away tears. You would have seen her struggle to keep her composure, seen her face scrunch up as she pressed her lips to the top of your head.

“Y/N,” she said. “You don’t need to be sorry. Honey, I’m so proud of you. What you did today? Baby, that was brave. You were so, so brave. You saved Colin’s life. I never thought I could be angry and proud at the same time, but here we are.”

You both laughed a little and sniffed.

“I love you, Mom,” you whispered, burying your face in her.

She pulled you even closer into her, wrapping you in her arms, and you knew that no matter what–no matter what happened, no matter how scary things got–she would keep you safe. She would never let you go again.

“I love you too, honey. I love you so much.” And you could feel her tears drip down onto your head, feel them washing away the blood.

They deserve to be happy.