Washington, D.C. – BAU Headquarters
Song: “Love Me Like I’m Gone” – Tora
⚠️ Mature Content Warning ⚠️
This chapter contains:
• Explicit sexual content (18+)
• Oral sex (JJ giving)
• Praise kink (Emily giving, JJ receiving)
• Emotional intimacy (grief + power dynamic tension)
This content is intended for mature audiences. All acts are consensual.
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The bullpen buzzed with end-of-case relief, laughter cutting through exhaustion. Spencer was already halfway to the elevators, rattling off something about a book signing. Morgan clapped JJ on the shoulder, grinning. “C’mon, Blondie. Drinks on me.”
She forced a smile, trying to match their energy, but her chest felt tight. The thought of smoky bars and laughter that didn’t quite reach her ears—it made her want to bolt.
Behind her, Emily’s voice carried across the room, calm and steady. “I’ve got drinks in my office. If anyone wants something a little quieter.”
The team brushed it off—plans already forming, excuses spilling. JJ lingered at her desk, fingers tracing the rim of her water bottle, pulse quickening. Before she could think better of it, she turned.
“I’ll join you,” she said, voice too soft, too careful.
Emily’s dark eyes flicked to hers, unreadable. Then she nodded once. “Alright.”
⸻
Emily’s office was quiet, blinds drawn, only the desk lamp casting a warm glow. The faint scent of leather and scotch lingered in the air, grounding, commanding. She poured two glasses without a word, handing one to JJ before sinking onto the couch.
JJ followed, perching close enough that their knees brushed. They talked in circles—cases, grief, the strain of pretending she was fine. Emily listened, the way she always did, head tilted, eyes sharp and impossibly gentle all at once.
When JJ’s voice cracked, Emily’s hand rested on her knee. Just enough to steady her.
Silence stretched. JJ stared into her glass, then at Emily. Her chest tightened. Her throat burned.
“I want a taste,” she whispered, the words trembling out before she could take them back.
Emily stilled, glass halfway to her lips. Her eyes narrowed slightly, studying her. “Jennifer.” A warning, low and velvety.
JJ set her drink down with shaking hands, sliding off the couch before fear could stop her. She knelt on the rug, her palms warm against Emily’s thighs. Her blue eyes burned up at her Chief, soft and aching.
“Please,” she said, her voice breaking on the word. “Please let me be your good girl tonight.”
Emily’s breath hitched. Slowly, she set her glass aside, leaning back into the cushions. For a long moment, she just watched JJ—her strong, brave, grieving agent—kneeling at her feet like she’d been born to it.
Then Emily slid her fingers into JJ’s hair, guiding her closer. “Good girl,” she murmured, her tone steady, rich. “Show me how much you need this.”
⸻
JJ fumbled with her belt, tugging it open, sliding her hand under the waistband. Her breath caught when she found Emily hard beneath the fabric, thick and heavy. She swallowed, her lips parting as she freed her, the sight alone making her thighs clench.
Emily stroked her cheek, brushing her thumb over flushed skin. “So pretty on your knees.”
JJ moaned softly, taking Emily slow at first, savoring the weight on her tongue, the taste she’d dreamed of but never dared to touch. Emily groaned low, her head falling back against the couch, hand tightening in JJ’s waves to guide her rhythm.
“That’s it, Jennifer,” Emily breathed, voice rough now. “Just like that. God, you feel incredible.”
JJ hummed around her, desperate for every sound she pulled from her Chief’s lips. She pushed deeper, eyes watering, and Emily hissed, hips jerking slightly.
Emily tugged her back just enough to make her meet her gaze. “Breathe, baby. You’re perfect. You’re doing so good for me.”
JJ whimpered, tears glinting as she bobbed her head again, faster now, sucking harder, every inch of her aching for Emily’s praise.
Emily’s grip tightened, her jaw flexing. “Fuck, Jennifer. You’re going to ruin me.”
JJ moaned again, the sound vibrating around her, and Emily groaned, hips stuttering. With one last thrust, her release spilled hot down JJ’s throat, and JJ swallowed it greedily, eyes never leaving hers.
⸻
When it was done, JJ pulled back, lips swollen, cheeks flushed. She rested her forehead on Emily’s thigh, panting.
Emily stroked her hair, breath still ragged, but her voice was soft, reverent. “Good girl. My good girl.”
JJ’s heart clenched, tears pricking again, but this time it wasn’t grief—it was relief. For the first time since Will’s death, she felt whole.