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doc-who · 1 month ago

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When Green Turns Red

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Chapter: 11/?

Words: 1582

Categories: Jealousy, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

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It's not exactly a secret that there has been some friction between you and Emily lately. So when you walk into the station with her hand comfortably wrapped around your waist, it's not surprising that everyone on the team is looking your way.

Having the team's undivided attention is uncomfortable enough, but the daggers the Detective throws your way are another matter entirely.

Emily’s touch doesn’t waiver, even though you’re sure she hasn’t missed the silent interaction. With all that had transpired the day before, the conversation you had overheard between Emily and the Detective had been pushed aside in your mind. But now that you’re face-to-face with the person in question, it’s all brought back into the forefront.

After everything you and Emily talked about last night, all the worries and questions put to rest, you’re not feeling insecure about your relationship, exactly, but there’s still a thread of uncertainty about the fact you don’t know what Emily’s answer was when the Detective asked her out.

The team is only here to wrap up a few loose ends, so you hopefully won’t have to deal with the awkwardness of being in the same building as the Detective for too long.

The morning is spent signing paperwork and going over the events of yesterday’s apprehension of the unsub. When you’re asked to recount the details of how you got grazed by a bullet, your hand automatically drifts to hold your injured arm.

A gentle touch on your thigh under the table snaps you out of the recollection, and you raise your head, meeting Emily’s concerned eyes.

“You okay?” she mouths, her hand a comforting weight on your thigh.

Nodding, you give her a reassuring smile, tangling your hand with hers under the table.

You feel her eyes on you for the rest of the briefing, and every time they meet yours you have to fight the urge to kiss her senseless, witnesses be damned. Now that things have finally been put right between you, all those months of keeping your distance, of having to hide how you feel about her, have all come rushing to the surface.

You’re acutely aware of every inch of your skin that comes into contact with hers, and it feels like a full body itch, this desperate need to be as close to her as possible. Emily is well aware of the internal battle you’re fighting, and she doesn’t make it any easier on you, purposefully trailing her hand up and down your thigh all morning.

Fortunately, the final bits and pieces of the case get wrapped up quickly, and the team begins to trickle out of the station as their tasks are completed, and before you know it, it’s only you and Emily left.

“Ready to go?” she asks, her voice dropping to a whisper that sends a shiver down your spine. The darkness of her eyes leaves you momentarily speechless.

You nod, clearing your throat, “Yeah, I’ve just got to print out a couple of things.”

Emily gives you a hand squeeze before reluctantly taking it off your thigh. “I’ll meet you back here.”

“You don’t have to wait,” you smile softly, gathering your papers.

“I want to,” she says, bringing your hand to her lips and kissing the back of it gently. The blush that creeps up your neck at the gesture deepens when she smiles at you, and the look on her face makes it clear she knows exactly what she does to you.

“I’ll be right back,” you murmur, standing up and trying to ignore the feeling of her eyes on you as you walk away.

“Don’t take too long,” she teases, her smile widening at your flustered state.

Pausing at the door, you look over your shoulder and give her an admonishing look, making her laugh. You grin to yourself all the way to the printer.

You’re only gone for a few minutes, but it’s evidently enough time for the Detective to take advantage of your absence. She’s sitting in your chair when you get back, though it’s noticeably closer to Emily’s then when you left it. She leans into Emily’s space, her arm resting on the table close enough that their hands almost touch. There’s a polite smile on Emily's face as she listens to what you gather is the Detective making her move once again.

You clear your throat, purposefully interrupting the conversation. “Ready to go?”

Emily's head snaps up at the sound of your voice, a mixture of relief and apprehension on her face.

“Yeah,” she says louder than necessary, quickly gathering her things, “I’ll be right there.”

The defective stands up first, making sure to brush her hand over Emily’s shoulders as she passes her.

“I’ll see you around,” she whispers to Emily, intentionally loud enough for you to catch. The wink she sends her way doesn’t escape your notice, either.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, the blood in your veins simmering as the Detective brushes past you with an arrogant smirk. You clench your fists, knowing that punching the Detective in the middle of the station probably wouldn’t be taken too well, no matter how much you think she deserves it.

Emily gives you an apologetic smile as she makes her way over to you, reading your agitation loud and clear. She takes your hand, and you instinctively relax at the touch.

“Let’s get out of here,” she says, tangling her fingers with yours.

Giving a stiff nod, you release Emily’s hand, both of you making your way out of the station.

As you’re about to open the entrance door, the feeling of being watched washes over you. Glancing back, you notice the Detective watching the two of you from the end of the hall. The smug look on her face is the thing that finally pushes you over the edge, unleashing your pent-up anger and jealousy.

Emily's touch on your arm re-captures your attention, and she gazes at you with concern, questioning your sudden stop. It's in that moment, meeting Emily's eyes, that something within you snaps. The intensity of the moment overwhelms you, and you can't hold back any longer.

In a split second your hands are on Emily’s waist, drawing her into your body. For a moment, you look at her, assessing her reaction. When you see how her pupils have dilated at your action, it’s all the approval you need.

With fire coursing through your veins, you press your lips into Emily, hands gripping her waist as she lets out a faint moan. Her lips part in surprise, and you delve your tongue into her mouth, causing her to tangle her fingers in your hair at the sensation.

Emily shows no concern for your surroundings as she eagerly returns your fevered kisses. Her hips instinctively press against yours, and you reluctantly pull back, both of you breathing heavily, chests rising together.

As you lean back, you catch a glimpse over Emily’s shoulder, and chuckle at the look on the Detective’s face before she storms out of the room. At the sound of your laughter, Emily pulls back to look at you, following your line of sight to the Detective’s hastily retreating form.

Realising the reason for your sudden display, Emily sighs, “You do know I turned her down the other day, right?”

“You did?” you ask, the surprise evident in your voice.

“Of course I did,” she says, “I did try to tell you, but you wouldn’t exactly let me.”

The memory of her insisting she needed to explain and your constant rebuttal of her efforts makes your cheeks burn.

“Oh, right,” you say sheepishly, eyes darting away from hers in embarrassment.

Emily chuckles, cupping your cheeks and guiding you back to look at her.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she says, lightly pinching your pink cheeks.

“Hey,” you whine, pouting, “I’m not cute.”

Emily laughs all the way out of the station.

All you really want is to drag Emily back to your apartment for some alone time, but in the end you give in to the team’s pleas to join them to unwind at a local bar. Emily says she doesn't mind either way, as long as you’re together.

By the time you all get back to DC, it’s late, and the bar is already packed when you arrive. Emily’s hand stays interlocked with yours as you walk through the crowd, heading to a corner table where you can see Morgan waving you down.

Emily sits down with a groan, and you lean over her shoulder, planting a kiss on her cheek.

“I’ll go get us some drinks,” you say.

“I’ll come with you,” she says, starting to stand up.

Placing your hand on her shoulder, you push her back down into her seat.

“You’re staying right here,” you whisper, and she melts under your hands as you dig your thumbs into her tight shoulder muscles.

Kissing the top of her head, you make your way over to the bar and squeeze into an open spot.

Just as you're about to signal the bartender, a gentle touch on your arm makes you turn around with a knowing grin, thinking that Emily has decided to follow you anyway.

However, it’s not Emily you find next to you, but a familiar face you weren’t expecting to see again.

“Fancy seeing you here,” they laugh, a big smile directed your way.

With a deep breath, you smile back, “Hey, Alexa.”

ao3

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x female reader

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doc-who · 2 months ago

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When Green Turns Red

Emily Prentiss/Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Chapters: 10/?

Words: 1958

Catergories: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

The walls of the alley loom over you like a shadow, the frigid air biting at your skin. It’s not the cold that sends tremors through your body, but the words that fall from Emily’s mouth.

“This was a mistake,” she says, voice devoid of all emotion, her eyes as cold as the night that surrounds you.

“Emily, please don’t do this,” you plead, desperation lacing your voice.

“I don’t know what I ever saw in you,” she sneers, her face twisted in disgust.

Your throat tightens with barely repressed sobs. “You don’t mean that. ”

Suddenly, a pair of strong arms seize you from behind, squeezing tightly around your torso. You fight with every ounce of strength, but it feels like you’re trapped in an iron cage.

“Emily!” you scream, “help me!”

She watches you struggle, her expression void of any concern, as if you mean nothing to her.

“You’ve always been a mistake,” she shakes her head, turning her back and fading into the mist of the alley.

“Please,” you sob, “don’t leave me.”

Tears stream down your face as you’re dragged backwards, your feet scraping along the pavement. As you’re pulled deeper into the shadows, the sinister voice holding you captive chuckles in your ear.

“I’m going to have fun with you.”

Your eyes fly open, and you sit up with a jolt, heart hammering in your chest. You’re surrounded by darkness, and for a disorienting moment, you think you’re still being dragged away, trapped and abandoned.

Breath coming in desperate gasps, your blurred vision focuses, and you realise you’re not in the cold alleyway, but in your hotel room.

You’re faintly aware that someone is speaking to you, but all you can hear is the echo of Emily’s voice, cold and detached, ringing in your ears.

A hand rests on your shoulder, and you flinch, pressing yourself back against the headboard.

“It’s just me,” a voice says gently, and you blink, turning your head to find Emily next to you.

The warmth and concern in her eyes is a stark contrast to the hateful stare that’s burned in your mind.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she whispers gently. You nod, not quite trusting your voice yet, still trapped in the horror of your dream.

The bedside lamp flickers to life, and the shadows that surround you retreat into the corners of the room. Emily’s face is bathed in a soft glow as she searches your eyes, trying to understand the reason for your distress. Gently, she takes your hand in hers, her thumb brushing soothing circles on the back of your knuckles.

“Nightmare?” she asks, her voice tinged with concern.

You nod again, still unable to force words from the pain that tightens your throat. The image of her walking away from you, her cold indifference as she watched you be dragged away, refuses to loosen the hold it has on you.

The real memories of that night overlap with the imagined ones of your dream, the similarities they share bombarding you with questions you thought had been put to rest. Struggling to separate the Emily sitting next to you to the one from your nightmares, you pull your hand from her grasp.

With a deep breath you raise your head, finally daring to look at her. By the look on her face, you know that she’s realised this wasn’t just any nightmare. She frowns in confusion at the hurt and accusation on your face.

“What’s wrong?” she asks hesitantly.

Eyes dropping to your lap, you study the bedspread, attempting to hide the hurt in your eyes.

“It was just a nightmare,” you murmur, trying to convince yourself as much as her.

Emily’s hand tightens around yours, and you know she’s not going to drop the subject.

“What about?”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does,” Emily insists.

Wiping your hand over your face and feeling wetness on your cheeks, you sigh. Emily says your name softly, wiping away a stray tear you missed.

“Tell me,” she pleads.

You hold your knees to your chest, anxiety twisting in your stomach. Even though Emily has told you she loves you, the hurt caused by what transpired that night still lingers. You know this heaviness in your chest won’t go away until you get answers. Until you know why Emily ended things that night, why she said what she did.

Looking into her eyes, you search for any trace of the coldness and disdain she displayed in your dream. When you find only sincerity in them, you take a deep breath.

“It was about that night, outside the bar,” you admit quietly.

Emily’s eyes soften in understanding, but she doesn’t pull away like you feared she would. Instead, she squeezes your hand, encouraging you to continue.

“Did you mean it?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, “when you said we were a mistake?”

Emily’s eyes flicker with a mix of pain and regret, “No, I didn’t mean it,” she says firmly, bringing your hand to her chest.

“Then why did you say it?” you say, voice trembling, “I don’t understand.”

Emily takes a deep breath, and she squeezes her eyes shut. “When we started seeing each,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, “we both agreed that it wasn’t going to be anything serious.”

You nod, remembering how your arrangement started.

“That night, when I saw you with someone else…” she continues, her voice low and pained, ”I’ve never felt like that before. It was so intense, it scared me.” her hands tremble around yours, unshed tears in her pained eyes.

“I didn’t know how to handle it,” she pauses, taking in a shaking breath, “so I did the thing I was always best at,” she chuckles darkly in self-deprecation, “I pushed you away,” her voice cracks, “I hurt you before you could hurt me.”

The weight of her confession lingers in the air, heavy and suffocating. You pull your hand from hers, needing the space to process everything. The memories of that fateful night come rushing back. The anguish that you thought you had buried reemerging with a vengeance, tearing open the old wounds that you had tried so hard to heal.

Emily releases the breath she’s been holding. “Say something, please.”

Her eyes search yours, desperate for any sign of understanding or forgiveness. You understand now what drove her to do what she did, to say the things she said, but it doesn’t automatically erase the months of doubt and heartache that followed.

“I don’t know what to say, Emily,” you admit, your voice raw with emotion. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you turn your back on her.

“Anything,” she begs, shifting closer, “just don’t leave, please.”

“Why wait so long to tell me?” you finally ask, your voice still thick with emotion. “Why let me go all these months thinking that’s how you really felt about me? That I was just one big mistake to you?”

Emily moves closer until she’s sitting behind you, tentatively wrapping her arms around your waist.

“I thought I was the only one feeling this way,” she whispers into your hair, “so I kept it all inside. I never let myself believe that you could feel the same,” she admits.

You shake your head, your throat tight with unshed tears. “How could you not know?” you ask incredulously, your voice shaking with the effort to keep your emotions in check, “how could you not realise how I felt about you?”

Emily’s arms tighten around you, “After everything I said, everything I did, I didn’t think you could ever forgive me, let alone love me.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath and turn around in her lap so that you’re facing her. Feeling the warmth of her embrace, you look into her eyes that are now brimming with tears.

“But I do love you, Emily,” you whisper, your voice trembling with sincerity, “I always have.”

Her eyes widen, a tear slipping down her cheek as she searches your face for any sign of doubt. “Always?” she breathes out, her voice filled with disbelief. You nod, feeling your own eyes fill with tears.

The astonishment in her eyes that follows your confession quickly morphs into one of guilt as the realisation dawns on her. It’s clear that she truly never considered the possibility that you felt the same as she did, and you can see the turmoil playing out on her face as she realises the true consequences of her actions. That you have been suffering all this time just as she has, all because she was too scared to admit how she felt.

Her hands come up to cradle your face, her thumbs wiping the wetness from your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice cracking, “I’m sorry for everything. For pushing you away, for making you believe that I thought you were a mistake. If I had known…” she shakes her head, and scoffs at herself, “all this time, I thought that if I just gave you space, kept myself away from you, that you’d realise that you’re better off without me.”

“Emily,” you whisper in disbelief, “how could you ever think that I would be better off without you?”

“Because all I ever seem to do is hurt you!” she cries. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have been there that night. That if I had just been honest about how I felt, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

You sigh in understanding, holding her face in your hands. “Emily, you know I never blamed you for what happened to me.”

“I blamed myself,” she whispers, her arms trembling around you, “I still do.”

“Emily,” you sigh, “you can’t take responsibility for what happened to me,” you say, your voice firm but gentle. You trace your fingers along her cheek, feeling the dampness of her skin. “You didn’t know what was going to happen that night. No one did.”

She nods hesitantly, but you can see that she’s not convinced, that the self-imposed blame still lingers.

“Emily, look at me,” you say firmly, hands guiding her face up.

Her eyes meet yours, and you can see the guilt she’s been carrying. The guilt that’s been eating away at her just as your doubt has been consuming you.

“I need you to believe me when I say this,” you say fervently, “what happened to me had nothing to do with you. It wasn’t your fault.”

Emily swallows heavily, her hands gripping your shirt.

“You’re the one that found me, that saved me,” you say, smoothing her hair back off her face, “okay?”

For a moment, she doesn’t speak. Her arms tighten around you as if she’s afraid you’ll vanish if she lets go, then she takes a deep breath, “Okay.”

The tension in the room eases, and you lean into her, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. Gently, you extract yourself from her lap, pulling her back into bed, the coldness of the room replaced by the warmth of the covers as you slip beneath them.

Emily’s arms wrap around your waist protectively, pulling your body into hers. You lay there with your cheek pressed against her chest, listening to the rhythm of her heart. It’s a comfort you hadn’t realised you had missed so much, and you tighten your hold on her.

Emily buries her face in your hair, taking in the familiar scent of your shampoo.

“I love you,” she whispers, the words soft and filled with emotion.

The weight of the past months seems to lift, and for the first time in a long while, you take a deep, easy breath, “I love you too.”

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #emily prentiss/reader

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