Title: Cravings
Author: sofia_lindsay (sofia_)
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Emily/JJ
Disclaimer- If I owned them, we'd see this happen, but it wouldn't be on primetime. I'd put it on Pay-Per-View, maybe a few DVD's and probably turn it into a Broadway play as well. Emily would be off-limits to everyone else. *ducks*
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Her mind told her to let Emily sleep, but her hormones were saying something different.
Spoilers: I guess if anything, it might be a spoiler to "Lo-Fi."
AN: This is a promised (unbeta'd) smut fix fic for calliope. (Apparently, I'm her smut-bitch for life now. *frantic look* Help me, please???) With classes starting back Monday, this might be all you get for a little while, unless I manage to somehow incorporate human osteology and philosophy into smut.
Archiving: P&P, others ask.

Wide-awake, JJ stared at the ceiling and sighed. The red digital numbers on the clock read 12.52, letting her know she should be well asleep by now, if not for herself then for her unborn baby. Instead, she was wide-awake, trying in vain to keep herself from waking her brunette lover. Her mind told her to let Emily sleep, but her hormones were saying something different. Settling for a compromise, she slid her hand under the sheets and slowly began rubbing herself. Five minutes later, she realized the attempt was in vain. She wanted to touch her lover, to watch Emily come apart in her hands- it was a beautiful sight she never tired of seeing. Sighing heavily, she rolled to her side to spoon her lover from behind, silently thankful it was Friday and neither of them had to work the next day.

"Em, you awake?"

Emily heard her lover's whisper a second before she felt a warm hand slide across her stomach and up to cup her breast. JJ waking her in the middle of the night was nothing new since they had found out she was pregnant. The first few months, after the morning sickness had finally eased, it had been JJ craving food. Now in the fifth month, she often found herself facing a very horny wife-not that she was complaining.

"I am now," she managed to get out before nails scraped over her already-hard nipple, "I'm praying to God that you aren't waking me like this just to tell me that you need me to go on a food run again!"

JJ smirked, "Is it my fault that your daughter wanted a hot fudge sundae in the middle of the night?"

Rolling onto her back, Emily rolled her eyes sarcastically, "I'm sure it was her who wanted that…but do tell me, what is it that my daughter wants me to do this time?"

"She doesn't want you to do anything…I want to make love to my wife."

Leaning down, JJ let her tongue graze the brunette's bottom lip before kissing down the long neck, leaving faint red marks peppering the fair skin as she nipped and sucked her way down the profiler's body. As JJ found a particularly sensitive spot above her hipbone and gently bit down, Emily fisted the sheet in both hands. "Jennifer, please."

Blue eyes twinkled with mischief as JJ moved to straddle a toned thigh. Teasingly, she ran her fingers up the other one, before letting them slide into her lover. A whimper escaped the brunette as she arched up to meet JJ's lips and rocked against the fingers inside her. As the kiss became more desperate, JJ thrust her fingers into her lover and grinded against Emily's thigh. Burying her face in dark hair, JJ brushed her thumb across her lover's clit as she felt Emily clench around her fingers.

Nearing her own peak, somewhere in her sex-dazed mind, she dimly registered Emily's muffled scream and the sound of one of their cell phones going off. Quickly switching into "Agent Jareau" mode, she pulled back, only to have Emily grab her wrist.

"Ignore it. Please."

"Emily, you know we have to answer…"

Emily could tell the press liaison was torn between duty to the FBI and sleeping on the couch for the next few days. Dark eyes narrowed, and the grip on JJ's wrist became impossibly tighter. "Jennifer! Finish this first!"

"Em, we can't!" she replied, ignoring the death glare she was receiving as she leaned over to the pick up the offending phone. Much to her annoyance, it was only a disgruntled detective from Southern Louisiana, whining that the BAU hadn't picked up his case. Grinning, she casually continued her conversation as her fingers picked up where they had left off.

JJ half-listened to the ranting man for a few minutes before interrupting and not so politely ending the call, as Emily silently pleaded with her to stop teasing. Heeding the silent warning, JJ slid down the brunette's body and slowly tongued her swollen clit. Several moments later, Emily was arching off the bed and screaming the blonde's name.

"Oh my God Jay…you're lucky I don't make you sleep on the couch after that," Emily replied breathlessly several minutes later as she rolled over to lay her head on JJ's shoulder.

Stifling a yawn, JJ smirked, "Oh yeah, like you'd make your pregnant wife sleep on the couch. I'd never let you live that down."

"Hmph," Emily retorted, with a satisfied smile, "This was so much better than having to drive all over DC looking for that hot fudge sauce you wanted the last time."

Blue eyes narrowed, "About that…hot fudge would taste really good right now."

"JJ, it's really late. Please don't make me run out and get some. You need to get your rest, and I promise you, I'll get you hot fudge first thing in the morning," Emily raised her head and pleaded with her lover.

"But honey," JJ began innocently, "I was thinking if we had chocolate sauce and whip cream, we could make our own sundaes."

As her words hit home and evoked some rather interesting images in the profiler's mind, JJ would have sworn she had never seen Emily get dressed so fast. As her wife placed a quick peck of a kiss on her forehead and bolted out the door, JJ laughed and snuggled under the blanket. It would take Emily a good hour to find the ridiculously expensive chocolate sauce she insisted on buying, and another hour to get back home. That was just enough time for her to take a quick nap, and with any luck, her wakeup call would come in the form of lips on skin rather than the shrill beep of the alarm clock.