#DO YOU EVER CRY FOR EMILY PRENTISS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zombiefiilm · 9 months

Text

Next to You

spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: sharing a room with the person in the bau that hates you the most makes you go through more emotions than you thought possible

warnings: kind of enemies to lovers, arguing, crying, no use of y/n, smut, nsfw - 18+ only, apology sex, soft sex, fem oral, protected p in v, praise, typical criminal minds death and unsub mentions

word count: 2.7k

Last minute cases in desolate towns in the midwest often meant that there was nowhere for the team to stay. It wasn't uncommon for you to have to pair or group up with other team members in dodgy motel rooms.

The most recent investigation had brought you all to the middle of nowhere in Nebraska, a long day ending with a drive to an motel that housed 7 rooms in total.

You, Reid and Rossi were the last to arrive so when Prentiss handed you a room key and told you that you would be sharing with Reid, it was already too late to complain.

"It's for your own good" she she grinned, picking her go-bag off the floor beside her.

"I hate you" you sighed.

"Sure you do" she was already walking off. You've been face to face with serial killers regularly, and this was just surviving a few nights in the same room as Spencer Reid, you could do this.

You walked back outside to find Reid standing in the dark by the car, right hand in this pocket and his left leaning against the black SUV.

"Looks like you're with me, Reid" you announced and the way that his face instantly dropped almost knocked you over. It was almost like you'd told him you were about to kill him.

"Come on" you began walking down to room 4, Spencer following shortly behind as you unlocked the door.

Being met with just one double bed though was enough to bring tears to your eyes. The couch looked like it had been through the war and there was no way on earth you were even touching it. And the sigh that Spencer let out made you want to rip your own hair out.

"I'm gonna sleep in the car" you quickly turned around to walk out of the door.

"You're not sleeping outside with a killer targeting women the exact same age as you on the loose" he stopped you in your tracks. He was right. "I can take the couch".

You were a little surprised at the chivalry but thankful none the less. "Are you sure?"

He didn't answer, instead dropping himself onto the couch.

Feeling content with his actions, you dropped your own bag on the floor beside the bed and told him you were going to use the bathroom before cleaning yourself up and changing into the oversized t-shirt you were using as pyjamas.

Coming out of the bathroom again, you were going to tell Reid that he was free to use the bathroom now but he simply glared at you.

It was as if he wanted to make your life hell. He always scowled at you, made snarky comments on little details about you, gloated whenever you got anything wrong. He always drove you up the walls, since you first started at the BAU, and you never knew why.

It's not like you had done anything to him, from what you knew at least. You smiled and shook his hand when you met him and even thought he was cute, you treated him just like you did with everyone else on the team, but you quickly noticed how differently he treated you.

You gave him plenty of time to warm up to you before you let yourself develop any solid opinions on him. You were warned about how he took to knew people, and you were understanding at first. But after you were several months in, and now years, and he still treated you like an outsider, you were no longer shy to expressing your dislike for him.

Other people on the team noticed it too, you, JJ, Garcia and Emily often discussing it with each other, but if one of them ever mentioned Spencer's attitude to himself, he'd deny everything and brush it off.

You really tried to not let it get to you, especially with the support from others, But man, did it upset you.

Spencer eventually got himself ready in the bathroom and came back out, silently setting himself up on the couch as you sat in the bed and did some research. There was a nice silence for a while, and then:

"Could you stop turning the pages so loud" he sounded irritated already and you hadn't even spoken to each other in the past 30 minutes.

"What?" you matched his tone, was he really trying to start a fight with you right now?

"I can't even think with how much noise you're making"

"I'm not making any noise, Reid, what's wrong with you?"

"You're flicking the pages, I can't pay attention to anything else"

"Oh so the sound of paper is able to stop boy genius in his tracks?" you mocked, pissed off at what he was choosing to do do.

He glared at you in response, he looked like he was about to blow a fuse.

"I don't know how to help you here, Reid, I'm trying to work on the case"

"Yeah, trying, it's not like you've ever actually done anything important for one" his voice had raised slightly.

"What?"

"You're practically incompetent, how you got recruited to the bureau, I'll never know" you hadn't even noticed him standing up, but it suddenly made you feel uncomfortable so you got out of the bed too, standing on the opposite side of the room.

"Excuse me?" you were completely shocked now, how had he gotten so far.

"You heard me. You have no place on this team. All you do is mess things up, you can't figure anything out and then you go and let our unsubs go"

You knew exactly what he was talking about. During one of your first cases, you had unintentionally informed an unsub that the FBI were searching for him during an interview with his wife and he got away. He was dangerous and you had never forgiven yourself for the people who had died before he was finally caught.

You just broke down in tears after that. It felt like he'd re-opened the wound right there and then.

"Fuck you" you spat through tears. You couldn't even look at him now, turning your back to him to sit on the bed.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry" it was like he had suddenly snapped out of the unexplained rage he was just experiencing.

You felt the bed dip as he sat down behind you, and then a hand rest on your shoulder.

You were edging on losing the ability to breathe. It wasn't even just remembering the worst experience you had on the job, it was the fact that Spencer had used it against you just to get a reaction out of you. You wouldn't have even expected that from him.

He just sat behind you as you attempted to regain some sense of composure, not saying anything else. Was he finally feeling some sense of remorse for how horribly he had been treating you?

Once he noticed that your breathing had slowed, he called out your last name, your work name. It felt so impersonal in that moment. Not that you'd ever been on a first name basis with him, but you gave no reaction to him.

He tried again, squeezing your shoulder this time. You gave him nothing.

But then he whispered your name. Your first name. It was quiet, apologetic.. desperate.

You sniffled, wiping the tears from under your eyes before you turned around to look at him. He was sitting right behind you in the bed now, his big brown eyes practically burning a hole in your head. You knew you probably looked like a mess now, face red and wet, eyes puffy, and hair mangled.

"God, I'm sorry" his hand reached up to wipe a stray tear from your cheek "I'm such an idiot, I can't believe I said that".

You flinched at his touch, not saying anything back to him.

"If I could take that back I would, I did not mean it. It was just in the moment" he tried to hold your face in his hand but you avoided his touch.

"In the moment?" you repeated "What even was that moment. It's like you wanted to have an argument with me for fun".

"I don't want to argue with you, I just.."

"You just hate me" you finished.

"No! I don't hate you, I'm just stupid and don't know how to deal with how I feel about you"

You looked directly into his eyes, eyebrows furrowed. "How you feel about me?"

You managed to catch his gaze as it briefly flicked down to your lips. It felt like something was drawing you closer as you moved towards him.

"Please, let me make it up to you".

"No. Are you saying you've treated me like this because you can't figure out what to do about your feelings for me? What are you? Twelve? You've made my life miserable."

The tears spilled out again, what was he even saying?

"Please, just let me show you how sorry I am"

His voice was laced in what could only be described as desperation, it was making you want to hear him out, forgive him, and you didn't quite know why.

"Please" his voice was on the verge of breaking.

Your walls were crumbling down, it was like he'd cast a spell on you

"please"

You only nodded, allowing him to to lean in closer to you, finally cupping your head in his hands and softly pressing his lips against yours.

It was like he was purposefully avoiding any roughness as he gently kissed, from your lips down your jaw and then down your neck. He looked at you then, his eyes meeting yours in a silent question. And you nodded.

He loosely grabbed the hem of your shirt, and you let him lift it up over your head.

He didn't touch you yet, kissing your lips again as he began to slide your underwear down. You manoeuvred enough for him to take them off you completely. He was so gentle that you didn't even think of feeling self-conscious being completely undressed in front of him.

He urged you to spread your legs and quickly laid down on his stomach in between them.

You barely had time to blink before his lips were on you, kissing up the inside of your thigh. as his hands wrapped around you, holding you down.

Then, he was softly licking up your cunt, softly moaning to himself as he tasted you. He avoided your clit, dragging his tongue everywhere except where you needed him most.

"Spence" the nickname drove him crazy, he finally felt like maybe you could be his.

He finally flicked his tongue over your clit and you couldn't help but push your hips against his face, a whine slipping from your lips.

He only egged you on, using your legs to pull closer to his mouth. He kept circling your clit, increasing the amount of pressure he used as your squirmed under him.

Every few moments, he'd bring his tongue down again, dipping into your hole gently, gathering your slick, before suckling at your clit again.

Slurs of his name, swears and a few 'oh my gods' were the only coherent sounds that could leave your mouth. He had gotten you incredibly sensitive and you felt like you could tip over the edge at any moment.

Spencer himself couldn't stop himself from moaning at your taste, your sounds, how your skin felt under his hands. The vibrations pushing you further.

He suddenly sucked a bit harsher, almost nipping your clit before going back to his previously gentle movements.

The contrast between the rare harsher movements and his gentle attention had you bucking into his face, only to be stopped by his hands pushing you down.

All of a sudden, you felt your release. You moaned much to loud as you writhed under Spencer's mouth, him carrying you through your orgasm.

Just as you felt yourself come down, you went to pull yourself away from Spencer, but he refused to let you, keeping you pinned down to the bed as he let himself taste your release.

"Spencer, please" you were so incredibly sensitive at this point, your body jolting at every small movement. You had to bite the side of your hand to stop yourself from yelling out from the pleasure.

He suddenly pulled off of you with a soft *pop* ad sat up, quickly kicking his trousers and boxers off as you reached forward and loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt.

Now that he too was undressed, you felt more equal, it was almost metaphorical as if he was agreeing to end the weird tension between the both of you.

He sat between your legs again, lifting your legs around his hips. You hadn't noticed the condom he had taken out from his pocket until you heard the crinkle of the foil as he opened it.

He quickly rolled it down his shaft as you finally got the chance to look at him. You felt yourself clench in anticipation.

He finally lined himself up and you were subconsciously pushing your hips down towards him.

"Please, Reid" you practically begged as he leaned forward but he stopped at your words.

You looked into his eyes, pleading for him to fill you up, but he didn't.

"Spencer" you whined, and he quickly rutted his hips into you.

"Thats it, good girl" he praised as the air was knocked from your lungs.

He started slow, using one hand to prop himself up and the other to finally caress your skin. It was like he was trying to memorise the curves of your body with one hand. He grabbed at your hips, held your waist, squeezed your breasts, as he slowly picked up his pace.

He couldn't get enough of feeling your body as he pinched your nipple, marvelling at the way it hardened further.

"God, you're so beautiful" his hand finally fell down to your clit, rubbing small circles in time with his thrusts.

You couldn't even get a single word out at this point, too tired and desperate to say anything.

"I'm so sorry baby" if he didn't have your attention before, the name had definitely gotten it now. "I'll be so good for you from now on" you could tell he was close from the waver in his voice, but you too felt your 2nd release approaching.

"You're so perfect" his rambling was interrupted by groans, "never want to leave your side ever again" his thrusts had last there rhythm as he circled your clit quicker, desperate to get you to cum before him.

It didn't take long for the coil in your stomach to snap, vision blurring as he continued his thrusts. Not much after, he plunged into you one last time. You could feel him coming inside as he filled up the condom, his chest now flush against yours.

You both laid there for a few moments, enjoying the hot, sticky embrace as you caught your breathe.

Silently, Spencer pulled out, taking off the condom and throwing it in the trash before pulling his boxers on. He then got you cleaned up, helping you put on your own underwear afterwards, before you got into the bed.

He tried to walk over to the couch but you were not letting that happen. “Get in here Reid" you muttered, laughing quietly as he practically jumped in beside you.

As he faced you in the bed, he brushed a stray hair behind your ear. "I'll make it up to you, I'm sorry, about everything" he kissed you once more, it would take more time for you to forgive him, but for now you let yourself fall asleep in his arms.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x you smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x fem reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x y/n smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencerreid #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid fluff

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mydear-corinthian · 16 days

Text

not you, please

synopsis - wherein the reader was kidnapped by the unsub that hotch and the team were investigating.

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader / aaron hotchner x wife!reader

warnings - ANGST w/ comfort, reader being kidnapped and tortured, blood, typical criminal minds talk/content, use of aaron and hotch separately

notes - a tad long (w.c <2300), gif & picture isn't mine, divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

main masterlist | criminal minds masterlist

"Where is she?" Hotch's deep and frustrating voice echoed throughout the interrogation room. He was alone, wanting to talk to the now-caught criminal, wanting the offender to know your whereabouts.

It's been two days since you went missing. You were just doing your usual grocery for the week not until you went to the parking lot and you felt a damped cloth covering your mouth and nose. You accidentally inhale the chemicals on it making your muscles and bones tired, and your eyes shut down completely.

When you woke up, you felt a cold metallic wrap-feeling around your wrists. Your hands were hung up while you stood; your body felt weaker than ever. As you looked down on your body, bruises and fresh scars painted all over your stomach and legs. You want to cry. Cry for the pain. Cry because you know that you won't be able to see your husband again.

Hotch came home after a long tiring work. He gently hung his suit coat on the rack as he called your name. Once he did, Hotch didn't hear an answer. He thought that you were asleep since it was already midnight. Hotch went upstairs to your shared room and knocked softly before entering. His eyes widened at the sight: the bed was empty. Hotch quickly ran downstairs, searching every room there is inside the house. Hell, he even checked the backyard.

You weren't there.

Hotch immediately grabbed his phone, dialing your number. Unfortunately, it went directly to voicemail making his heart drop.

Hi, this is (Y/n)! I'm afraid I cannot be on the phone right now. Just leave a message and I'll reply as soon as I can.

Your voice helped him a bit but it's the fact that it's just a voicemail. He cannot help but think where were you?

That's when he remembered.

Earlier in his shift, he recalled how the team got a new case. Four women were tortured and murdered with the same hair and eye color as yours.

"No, that's not possible.." Not you, please.." he thought to himself.

Hotch grabbed his car keys and drove to the BAU office right away. When he entered the office, he ran immediately and went inside the elevator. Hotch called everyone: Reid, Garcia, Morgan, J.J, Prentiss, and Rossi.

"I need you all to be here. It's an emergency." Hotch stated and dropped the call after.

After five minutes, everyone was in the conference room, standing up and looking at Hotch.

"What happened?" Morgan was the first to ask.

"(Y/n) was abducted. I suspect this morning." Hotch replied, trying to keep his composure. He may appear normal or he's showing no feelings at all but deep down, his mind is punching him with all the possibilities on where are you and what happened. Are you okay? Do you have any injuries? Or worse, are you still alive?

He knows that people who go missing die within the first 24 hours since they went missing. For the first time, Hotch disregard the statistics. He won't accept any of it.

"I am sure it has to do with the case we had this morning. (Y/n) has the same characteristics as the victims. (y/h/c) hair, (y/e/c)." Hotch added.

"Oh my god.." Garcia commented, covering her mouth in shock.

"We'll help you, Hotch," J.J. said, her eyes showing a trickle of sadness.

Everyone in the BAU loved you. They were shocked knowing that both of you were dating despite your different personalities. Whenever there was a tough case, you would give them homemade cookies— especially Emily since you know how much she loves them— and you usually wait for Aaron to finish his paperworks in his office and you chat with Spencer. Listening to all the statistics and facts that he gives. You were the one who helped J.J. during her pregnancy, you gifted her how many boxes of diapers and other baby items during her bridal shower. You learned how to make Italian dishes with Rossi and Aaron loved every single dish of them. Derek and Penelope kept on asking for dating tips and even going out and parties with them. For them, you're a part of the BAU now. You're their family.

"I'll trace her phone. To see where her last location was." Garcia immediately started, leaving the room, and went to her computer lair.

"I'll talk to the neighbors to see if they saw her." Emily and Derek said.

"I'll go and try to mark a location up," Spencer said, standing up and going to the other room.

Rossi walked towards the scared and worried Hotch, patting him on the back, "We'll find her, Aaron."

"Look who's awake! Took you long enough," the unsub laughed, there was a small knife in his hand.

"Let me go!" you panted, your arms wiggling against the cold and handcuffs. Tears were starting to form in your eyes.

The unsub was getting closer to you until you felt his hot breath on your neck, whispering things that you wish you could not hear. With all of your strength, you kicked his stomach making him tumble backward.

"You're a fighter, aren't you?" he laughed.

His knife trailed down to your thighs, caressing it before stabbing you. You let out a scream as you felt it pinch to your skin.

"Please— stop!" you begged.

"You know, the last person who was there in your place died," he said. "If you don't want to end up like her then behave!"

You didn't protest, you want to live. Your mouth let out a series of whimpers and sobs. The unsub laughed, showing no remorse or guilt for what he had just done he enjoyed it.

Another man came inside whatever room you were in. He wasn't in shape, unlike the man who tortured you. There you know what is happening.

Two unsubs.

One is highly intelligent; the one who plans all the murders. The other one is physically strong but has no brains. The stronger man works for the other guy.

You learned it from your husband. You let him debrief heavy cases and also Aaron gives you some tips and tricks whenever you're in a dangerous situation— which he hopes won't happen but it's better to be cautious and be prepared.

"Good job finding her, Eric. I'll go somewhere to buy more tools for this lady over here." the smarter unsub said.

Eric nodded in response, facing back to you as he smiled diabolically with a small cutter in his hands.

When his duo left, all you felt was pain when the cutter went back again to your skin, cutting you slowly. Your vision started to get woozy. You lost your balance before your whole vision started going back.

It's finally been 24 hours since you went missing.

Aaron was mentally and emotionally dissolved. He and the whole team were in the conference room, looking at Garcia on the small screen of the laptop, hoping to get an address or a name.

Please, Garcia.. Please

"I got an address!" Penelope shouted, making everyone including Aaron stand up.

"Where?" Aaron asked immediately, his foot tapping anxiously.

"So, I searched stores who had customers previously bought knives, ropes, cutters, and all those horrifying items," she responded. Aaron's heart sank when she mentioned those items. Torture items. "—There were a lot of people who bought it—welcome to America— but this is what I suspiciously found. I reviewed this store's CCTV footage and I kept on seeing the same man coming inside the store twice a week for almost a month who brought the same items: rope, butcher's knives, small cutters, staplers, shovels, and some.. handcuffs... What's weird is that he doesn't look like the person who is physically fit to do gardening, carpentry, digging stuff and all."

"Can you identify the man, baby girl?"

"I already did. The name is Fred Silverstone. He's 5'7 tall, white, he owns a grey Adventure pickup. He's still inside the store! The address is Building 2 Kennedy Store just by Palm Street."

As soon as the team received the address, all of them went to their SUVs and drove. Derek and Rossi were with Aaron. He wanted to drive but Rossi was faster than him. Rossi began to drive at a fast speed, trying to catch the possible unsub and you in time.

Once they arrived, Aaron didn't hesitate to run inside the store with a gun in his hand and a bulletproof vest on his chest to protect him.

"John Silverstone, freeze!" Aaron yelled, pointing his gun at him when he finally saw John about to leave the store with a cart full of torture items.

"Raise your hands where I can see them!"

John raised his hands in defeat. Derek grabbed his handcuffs behind his belt and stated the Miranda Rights with anger.

Hotch didn't waste his time to interrogate John. He tried screaming at him. Yell at him. Yet John didn't say a word to where are your whereabouts. Unfortunately, the man didn't speak for almost 16 hours. He was quiet. He was smart.

"Oh, you're not talking? Then let's talk about your wife. She's the stressor, right? You kidnap women with the same features as your wife because she left you. And when she tried to leave you, you killed her? Isn't that right?"

"Shut up!" John yelled. "You know, Agent.. your wife.. she's pretty." the sound of your name being mentioned lit up flames to his whole body. Jesus, he wants to punch that man right now.

"You know what I did to my wife? I strangled her before slowly but satisfactorily cutting her from head to toe in that fucking basement of her home. Who knows! Your wife will be like that in a few minutes." he laughed manically.

Hotch's anger rose even higher. A lump in his throat was starting to form. When the unsub finally gave a clue to your location, Garcia searched the house of John's ex-wife and sent the location immediately.

"You're gonna rot in prison, Silverstone." Hotch lowly said before leaving the room.

The team went to their respective SUVs, driving immediately. Hotch's mind was killing him—all the thoughts of you being wounded, in pain, or even seeing your lifeless body.

As soon as the team arrived, Hotch ordered everyone. Prentiss was on his left while Morgan was on his right. Morgan kicked the door harshly as the three ran towards the basement.

Once you heard footsteps and Aaron's voice, your body relaxed a little.

He's here now.

But before you could shout his name out, your body was grabbed by the remaining unsub. He locked your head with his forearm while he placed a small knife near your neck. You can feel how cold the knife was.

"FBI! Nicholas, put the knife down." Aaron said.

Aaron looked at you with fear and anxiety, all he needed was for you to come back to him safely.

"No! This is for John! I-I will make John proud by killing her without his help!" Nicholas shouted.

Prentiss was too impatient so she triggered the gun, the bullet hitting the unsub's forehead directly. His body fell, blood pooling down his head.

Your legs gave up once you were now away from his grasp. Your face was pale. You were dehydrated so much. Your injuries look severe. There was a lot of dried blood on your body while some fresh scars were seen on your thighs and stomach.

Aaron ran towards you instantly. He gently grabbed your upper body, scanning for more injuries. Tears were starting to form again in your eyes as you felt his safe touch once again.

"It's okay, honey.. I'm here. You'll be alright. Just stay awake for me, okay?" Aaron caressed your hair while looking at you with his adorable eyes. He may seem still professional but his eyes were starting to water and his voice quivered.

Unfortunately, you were too weak to speak. You only answered him with a nod.

"I need an ambulance now," Morgan called.

You looked at your husband once again. Oh, he looks good. You hate seeing him anxious or sad. How you wish you had the energy to stroke his cheek. But despite that, you felt your energy decrease. Your body starts to feel cold and your head feels light. When you looked at Aaron again, your eyesight was getting blurry. Everything felt light.

"No no, (Y/n) stay awake, please. The ambulance is coming— What is taking them so long!"

You tried. Oh, you tried to stay awake but unfortunately, darkness filled you.

Aaron was outside the operating room for almost 5 hours now. The team left a few hours ago, leaving him alone. He glances at his wristwatch every minute, tapping his foot anxiously as he waits for the doctor to tell him his condition. He finally cried. Tears were now falling how his face, imagining the worse responses once the doctor comes out of the operating room.

The door suddenly opened. A doctor exited the operating room, their scrubs were stained with some blood.

"For (Y/n) Hotchner?"

Aaron stood up immediately as he heard your name.

"She'll be fine," the doctor announced, a sigh of relief washing out on his body. "But she lost a lot of blood and was severely dehydrated. She's lucky to be alive. She will wake up in a few hours, Mr. Hotchner. You may visit her once the nurses will transfer her to a private room within the hour."

"Thank you, Doctor— Oh God— Thank you."

When you woke up, you were met by this bright light. You adjusted your eyes for a bit before opening them fully. You shifted your eyes to your legs and saw your husband sleeping rather uncomfortably. You called out his name softly, hoping that he'd wake up despite how quiet your voice was.

Aaron woke up and then looked at you. For the first time in 2 days, a smile was printed on his face.

"You're awake, " he said gently, standing up and kissing your forehead, stroking your hair with his fingers. "I thought I had lost you."

"I'm okay now, Aaron. I'm safe and you're with me," you reassured him, interlocking your fingers with his.

"I'm so sorry it took us time to find you."

"It's okay, Aaron. It's not your fault."

"I love you, (Y/n) Hotchner."

"I love you too, Aaron Hotchner." you smiled at him, kissing him back when his lips touched yours.

"Now give me some water; I'm thirsty," you said.

#x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch angst #aaron hotch x reader #thomas gibson

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yourmomxx · 11 months

Note

Emily Prentiss(chief or not cheif) X Fem!Reader have been secretly married for several years, (if emily is cheif they’ve been dating since she was an agent and then married when she was a cheif and if not obviously the opposite). No ike knows or expects emily to be in a relationship because she doesn’t say anything until one day she forgets her badge and lunch at home so her wife brings her stuff and the whole place is shocked ? bonus if tara or someone flirts with her

a/n: ooh, I love me some secret relationship trope! Unfortunately, I'm still only on season 5/6 of Criminal Minds, so I just kept Emily as an Agent and not as Chief, if that's alright (Tara is in it, though ;)). I hope you like this, anon!

— ❝ɪɴ ᴛʜɪs ᴛᴇᴀᴍ, ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡs ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ. Tʜᴇʀᴇ’s ɴᴏ ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴄʏ. Mʏ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟ ʟɪfᴇ ɪs ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟᴇss ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴀɴ ᴘʀᴏfɪʟᴇ.❞ —

-Jennifer Jareau

Emily Prentiss was a private person. She prided herself in it.

I mean try it, hiding something from an entire office of educated professionals in degrees on how to read the most subtle shifts in a persons behavior and building a view based on that information.

Of course, let’s not forget, there’s the general rule, or rather, interdict, of profiling the other members of your team. But sometimes, you can’t help yourself.

Emily had noticed it in herself more times than she would like to admit.

Sometimes, it happened as easy as breathing, a natural trail of thought that let loose when she caught on about something or the people around her. She tried to undermine it as quickly as possible whenever she realized she was doing it, though.

It’s not the fact that she didn’t trust them.

No, that was never the thing, those people were like her second family. Or her first even, maybe.

But after spending almost every waking hour of the past years of her life around them, there were some things that she would rather keep for herself.

Leave them be in their own bubble that was just ‘Emily Prentiss’.

And when she talked about ‘things’, then she was actually talking about you.

The team could find out about her pregnancy, about her resentment towards the church. They could know that she had a phase at fourteen where she liked licorice and hasn’t been able to eat it since those dreadful seven months, or that she still hated her father for being emotionally unavailable and leaving her to deal with her mother on her own; they could know that.

But they couldn’t know about you. Never you.

This is wasn’t an issue of trust, again.

Trust was never in the mix when she made the decision, every morning before work, to lay off her wedding ring and keep it safe on a small chain in her back pocket.

But you were her safe place. A rock, a tow, something for her to hold on to, the only thing that was in no way connected to her work place.

Emily loved you, she did so much, and she’d known it after the first time she saw you smile, and accepted it during the first time she kissed you.

And hiding you, keeping you safe from all of this, was her way of shedding off the horrors and traumas of her job when she came home at night, completely tune out whatever she had experienced mere hours before, and dive back into you.

Your shared house, shared bed, shared sheets, shared kitchen, shared table.

Not talking about you, or even admitting you existed, while she worked and saw the worst sides of what humanity had to offer, drew a distinct line between her life with you and the life she led at work.

Call it a personal protective shield.

So, no, she would never, ever tell them.

“No. For God’s - No.”

Which is why, when Emily Prentiss walked into the bureau that morning, and realized her credentials weren’t in their designated pocket, and also her bag was empty of her lunch box, she knew that she was doomed.

Emily knew about your caring side. The loving, mothering, always everyone's shoulder to cry on-side.

Hell, if she was being honest, it was one of the reasons she started falling so hard for you so easily.

In that moment, though? God, how she wished she would have chosen a narcissist.

(Not literally, though. She'd profiled guys like that before. They really weren't wife- or husband material.)

You had just been on your way out of the house when you had seen your wife's dark lunch box still residing on the counter top where you had prepared it for her an hour ago.

After a quick look at the time on your phone screen, you had short-handedly decided to slightly delay your trip to the pharmacy for some mundane refills, and drop by Emily's office to bring her her lunch.

After all, you knew how busy she could get, and how her focused state had the power to drown out every other basic need her body had.

If you wouldn't make lunch for her, she wouldn't have the time, or the head, to think of buying something for herself, you knew that.

One would think that was clear after almost an entire year of marriage.

The thought alone brought a smile to your face.

You grabbed your car key off the counter and hurried your way out the door, closed it behind you, halted for a moment - and slowly backed up inside again.

You eyed the black case next to the key bowl suspiciously.

"That wasn't there yesterday," You muttered to yourself.

Cautiously, because when your wife worked in the FBI, anything was possible, you reached for the leather-bound case and drew it closer to you.

When you opened it, the tension immediately left your shoulders. You shook your head sighing at the sight of your wife's passport picture and the huge, dark blue letters FBI showing themselves to you.

"Oh, Emily, what am I gonna do with you?"

When you left the house then, it was final.

Hopefully.

"What's up with you, you seem stressed out?"

Emily did her best not to flinch in her already tense state when JJ came up next to her.

She managed her best, reassuring smile and pressed her sweating palms into the side of her jeans.

"Oh, it's nothing," She lied. "Just thought I lost something."

JJ raised an eyebrow. "Alright," She muttered. "If you say so."

Then, she crashed a light brown paper file into Emily's chest.

"This just came in from El Paso, three homicides so far. I'll inform the rest of the team and we'll meet in the briefing room in ten."

Emily couldn't do more than nod, and just managed to grab the file before it slipped to the floor when JJ left.

She wasn't usually like this. She was good at keeping her head in the game.

But right now, the fact that her credentials were missing wasn't exactly stressing her out, because she knew that you would bring them to her as soon as you realized that she had forgotten them at home.

Emily was stressed out because she knew you would bring them to her.

What she didn't know, was, however she should act and how the team would possibly take it.

The elevator you entered took a tremendous amount of time to realize which floor you wanted to go to, and even longer to slide the doors closed and jerking to a start.

You would think that in an official federal office building, the mechanics could be more advanced.

Then again, counting the many times Emily complained about the budget allocation of the bureau when she tought you weren't listening, maybe you shouldn't be all that surprised.

The doors slid closed when the thought suddenly hit you.

You were about to enter your wife's office. Which you had never been to, not once in your life and only knew the address of because goddamn, was it hard to miss.

The building that was probably the only thing that Emily had wanted to keep you out of for as long as she could.

And you came here for a lunch box.

Emily knew you knew. You had talked to her about it, she had answered your questions on why she always got fussy when you asked her how you could finally meet her team, and you had understood, every time, but this?

She couldn't just ask you to actively lie about your relationship in front of most of - all of - her friends, could she?

The last time she had checked your location, it had already shown you in close vacinity to the BAU building. She could figure what was ahead.

Was she about to deny a relationship?

“Can I help you?”

This office had way too many doors, in your opinion, and way too few signs telling you where to find what.

The greeting voice made you look up, and you automatically shifted into your politeness to strangers-mode, upon seeing a woman come up to you, wearing a two-piece and her hair in loose curls.

A very pretty woman, you had to admit.

"My name's Tara Lewis," She introduced herself, "Who are you looking for, sweetheart?"

You quickly waved her off. “Oh, I don’t work here.”

Tara tipped her head, eyes not so subtly shifting up and down your appearance.

“I figured as much, I would have remembered a face like yours.”

You managed an awkward laugh.

Emily had once, in good fun, told you you were easily caught off guard by people showing genuine interest in you all of a sudden.

You hated when she was right.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

Just over Tara Lewis' shoulder, you were suddenly able to spot the dark hair that indicated Emily Prentiss approaching from behind her.

You nodded in her direction in recognition, as she came to a halt next to Tara Lewis.

"I'm a friend of Emily's," You lied, and by God, you did it so neatly, Emily was questioning if she had maybe already dragged you down without realizing.

"She texted me that she forgot her lunch and her badge, and since we're close to each other, she asked me to get it for her."

That polite smile was still present on your face, and your voice pitched slightly higher than usual.

You threw Emily small looks in-between, unspotted by the usual eye, but she noticed them.

You were telling her to go along, to play the game, string it all a bit further until it turned into a web that could either wrap around and suffocate her, or catch her when she stumbled.

And she probably should.

Because you made it easy. You had made it so easy for her, laid it out like a red carpet for her to walk on, the lie, that could keep her sanctuary safe-

"I'm married."

In the midst of talking to Tara, your words died in your throat and your mouth stopped, hanging open.

Tara herself whipped her head around so fast, it was a question if she was breaking her neck, eyes ripped wide open in complete and utter schock.

It was quiet. In-between the three of you, a needle dropping would have echoed like the loudest drum.

"Say what now?" Tara didn’t take her eyes off Emily for a moment.

Slowly, movement seemed to re-enter your muscles and your eyes widened at the absolute extent of what had just happened.

"What are you doing?" You hushed at Emily.

Your wife's gaze - who you loved dearly, but in situations like these, could just hold by the shoulders and shake, shake, shake - tumbled between you and her co-worker, and you could almost decipher the exact moment she graciously invited the 'fuck it'-attitude.

Emily's shoulders dropped.

"I'm married," She repeated. Calm, collected, and slow.

All of the things you were totally not feeling right now.

"This is Y/N." Emily stepped next to you and held you gently by your wrist. "My wife."

And if the English Dictionary had demonstrating pictures next to each word, Tara Lewis' face right now would be pinned under 'bafflement'.

It took a moment, actually it took a few, for the Doctor to collect herself again.

She straightened her shoulders, cleared her throat, and shook herself out, as if to remove any unnecessary consideration that kept her from thinking clearly.

"Who knows about this?" It was her first question.

Where your shoulders were ever so slightly touching, you could feel Emily's body stay tense.

"Not really anyone," She admitted.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

Emily shook her head. "Y/N is my personal life," She cleared. "I spend almost every awake minute with you people. I wanted something to myself."

As subtly as you could, you leaned your body the slightest bit closer to her. It wasn't visible to the lazy eye, but Emily could feel it.

She squeezed your wrist.

You were comfort to her.

Tara's eyes flew between the two of you, contemplating, observing.

Then, from one moment to another, her lips broke into a blinding grin.

"A wife," She repeated. Emily ripped her eyes open to interpret her friend that she should keep her voice down.

"Good for you," Tara smiled.

Emily visibly relaxed. A breath she had been holding escaped her lungs soundly.

"Let's just be clear," She told Tara, "This is still my thing." She gestured to you. "My marriage is still my thing. I don't need the entire team on me like vultures, profiling my love life like they do everything else."

Tara nodded earnestly. Her small curls were bumping up and down. She pulled her fingers across her lips and pretented to turn a key in the corner of her mouth.

"My lips are sealed." She threw the imaginary key far, far behind the office desks. "Lovergirl."

Emily ignored her and turned to you.

Your fingers lingered around hers in the movement.

"Thank you," She breathed out quietly. A soft smile played around your lips as you looked into her eyes, recognizing that specific gentleness that you knew she only gifted you with.

"Anytime."

You placed her lunch box in her hands. "It's rice with some peas and corn." Emily smiled. "You're the best."

"And, before I forget-" You pulled out the badge from your bag, but instead of giving it to Emily directly, you opened her suit jacket and found the inner pocket, safely storing the credentials where you knew she kept them every day.

You smoothed out the jacket when you were done.

"There you go."

Emily didn't even know what to say. That warm feeling, that she felt in her entire body every time she looked at you, realized who you were and who you were to her, it made itself known in this moment right now.

Right here, in the middle of her workspace.

And with all the horrors she'd see, it was probably the most content she had felt in this place in a while.

"You are so amazing." The words didn't come close to what she was feeling.

But the way your eyebrows loosened, and your lips slightly parted, she knew you understood.

"This is so sweet, and I hate to be that person, but Prentiss, we have a case to get to."

Emily cleared her throat, being ripped from whatever that moment had been, and reminded on what ground she was standing right now.

"Right," She said. She opened her arms and leaned in to pull you into a hug.

A hug, not a kiss on the cheek.

She wasn't that far yet.

"It's okay." The feeling of your breathed words tickled near her ear. "I understand."

Emily squeezed you a bit tighter.

"Get home safe."

You slowly broke away from the embrace.

"I will," You promised.

Tara mouthed a quick 'I'm so sorry' in your direction. You laughed and waved her a goodbye, before you headed for the elavator again, and she got on her way to follow after Emily, who had already made her way to where JJ had ordered them a few minutes ago.

Tara endured until the top step.

"Oh.my.God. I can't believe it!" She almost squealed as they made their way next to each other to the briefing room.

"Look at us, sharing secrets now. Ah." She shook out her shoulders. "I feel like this is a pyjama party in junior year all over again. Amazing."

Emily couldn't do anything else than grin at Tara's antics.

Suddenly, her pocket vibrated with a short tune, and Emily pulled out her phone to check her display.

It was a message from you. Emily smiled softly as she read it.

Have a good day, my sun. Will hopefully see you tonight<3

"A message from boo?" Tara mocked, and tried to peak over Emily's shoulder.

Emily quickly shut off the display, stuffed her phone back into her backpocket and continued walking.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

But the lovesick smile didn't leave Emily's face for the rest of the way to the briefing room, partly because she was so caught up in her thoughts about the specific feeling of your skin, that she didn't even notice she was wearing it.

#emily prentiss #requested #answered #yourmomxx #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #female reader #emily prentiss fluff

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propertyofemilyprentiss · 10 days

Text

Evermore (part 1)

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

Category: Heavy angst

Summary: After Emily’s death, everything comes falling apart, losing yourself into your old habits. Little did you know that you were secretly talking to her the whole time.

TWs: active self-harm, blood, mentions of suicidal ideation, intrusive thoughts. please do not read it if you’re in a bad place. my dms are always open for anyone.

Word count: 7K

“And I couldn`t be sure

I had a feeling so peculiar

That this pain would be for

Evermore”

Your whole world turned upside down with those seven words that came out of JJ’s mouth.

“She never made it off the table”

From that moment, it didn't take more than five seconds for the first stage of grief to settle: denial.

No no no no no no no no. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't…this couldn't be happening. This was NOT how your story was supposed to end. This can’t be it, right? God please make her come back, please…

Your ears started ringing, and you could’ve sworn that your heart stopped too, blood running cold in an instant. With the biggest pain in your chest that you’ve ever felt in your entire life, you got up from that hospital chair without saying a word, going in JJ’s direction.

You needed to see her. You had to see her. This couldn’t be happening.

”I…I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye”, you heard Spencer from behind, and it broke the last piece of strength that you had left.

You didn’t get to say goodbye either.

”JJ, I need to see her”, you heavily let out, like someone was pushing rocks onto your chest so hard that you could barely breathe.

“y/n”, she stopped you in front of her, pulling you into a hug.

”JJ please”, you sobbed in her arms, almost not being able to stand up.

“It’s going to be okay”, she repeatedly whispered into your ear.

And if you would’ve had it in yourself at that moment, you would’ve screamed how it’s never going to be okay.

How could it ever be okay living without the love of your life?

“Let your last memory of her be a good one, y/n. Please. She’d want it to be this way”, she told you.

And you broke down right in the middle of the waiting room, your legs giving out any remaining shred of strength. You wailed and cried and yelled and begged for Emily to come back to you, hoping that she would come right through those doors.

But she didn’t.

This couldn’t be happening.

—

In those almost four years that you’ve been dating, Emily’s apartment was your home more than yours ever was. You had everything there - your toiletries, clothes, CDs - you could say that you were actually living there, even though there wasn’t anything “official”.

But now, standing there in the middle of the hallway, alone, you couldn't stop the new wave of tears coming from your eyes.

This place has never felt so wrong.

I want to go home.

Your soul ached intensely at the thought - you’re never going to be home again. Looking around, you barely recognized the place, even though nothing was out of its place. It was just…wrong.

It was so quiet.

Slowly, your body made its way to the bedroom by itself and you crashed into the mattress, not even caring that you’ve been wearing the same clothes the whole day.

You painfully looked at Emily’s side of the bed, and it only made you cry harder. You couldn’t fathom the fact that you were never going to have her by your side ever again - you still hoped that this was the biggest nightmare you’ve ever experienced and that you’re going to wake up soon to her being alive and well, right there next to you.

”Come back Emily, please come back”, you sobbed into your pillow, “I can’t do this without you”.

—

When you thought you couldn’t feel worse, you quickly realized that you can - and you will.

Because nobody prepares you for burying the love of your life.

The only thing that stopped you from breaking down crying was that you wanted to put on a brave face for Emily, to be able to say a few last words to her before she would forever disappear into the ground.

With a trembling hand, you placed the white rose on her casket, fighting back the tears that were slowly appearing. You were the last one to do it, but that little extra time didn’t make you feel even remotely more prepared.

With your vision already blurry, you made your way to the speaker.

How were you supposed to tell goodbye to the person you love the most?

”I…uhm, hi”, you sniffled, trying to compose yourself, “as you all know me, I’ll skip the introduction. I am not standing in front of you today just to remind you that I am…was Emily's girlfriend, but to say that it was the most beautiful experience of my life to be able to know her…to really know her. To speak of her is to speak of warmth and kindness, of laughter that could light up even the darkest rooms. She was not just my girlfriend, but my best friend, the person who could easily shove away all my fears, who always listened to my stupid ramblings and was my biggest supporter. Her presence was a blessing to all of us, and her absence leaves a void that cannot be filled”, you felt the pain of your words hitting your chest, wishing nothing more but to be able to fill that unrepairable void.

“From the moment we met, which was three years and seven months ago, we were inseparable. Like two pieces of a puzzle - as cheesy as it sounds”, you brought your left hand to your eyes, trying to wipe away the tears.

”She loved those cheesy comments so much, even though she would never admit it”, you chuckled humorlessly, and everyone else did the same, “But Emily’s love didn’t stop at me. She loved you, all of you, so much”, you almost whispered the last words while looking at the team, “and that day we did everything we could to save her, it just wasn’t…wasn’t”…enough, you wanted to say but refrained.

“My love”, you looked at the casket in front of you, “I wish I knew that the last day I saw you would be the last. I would’ve listened to you speak for longer, I would've looked at you longer, I would’ve sat closer to you. And I wouldn’t have left you alone, despite how desperately you’ve asked me to. But you’ve always been so selfless, I can’t be mad at you, not even this time”, you looked at the sky, one more attempt to keep the tears at bay, “I hope you’re happy up there. I love you so much. Forever and always, I won’t stop loving you”.

Everyone was full-on crying by the time you finished your speech, and now that you were done, you finally let go too. You sobbed in JJ’s arms - just like you did at the hospital - wishing that you would wake up in the right arms instead.

—

“Can’t remember

What I used to fight for”

They say time heals everything, but it didn’t seem to work for you - each night, you were dreaming of her, and each morning was bringing you back to the cruel reality of your lost lover.

It was mentally draining you, and you were starting to wish to never wake up - to not have this huge pause when you were somehow supposed to live your life - and to be able to constantly see her.

Everybody was back to work already, of course, serial killers don’t take breaks because of your heartbreak, but you couldn’t. They kept visiting and checking up on you, but eventually their lives went on. Yours didn’t. Your life has stopped from the moment JJ stepped into that waiting room with that look on her face which told you everything.

You just couldn’t.

How were you supposed to function like a proper human being when you had so much pain within yourself that you couldn’t even get out of bed?

How were you supposed to go back to work without her by your side, and still be able to focus on the cases instead of her heavy absence?

You just couldn’t.

“Where am I to store all this heartache?”, you wondered, looking aimlessly around the room.

You just wanted to go home.

You didn’t know what time it was - you didn’t bother to charge your phone. Which you probably shouldn’t have done, considering the frantic knocks on your door that you got later that day.

Ignoring the pain in your body from not moving almost the whole day, you’ve made your way to the door, not bothering to check who it was.

It wasn’t going to be the right person either way.

”JJ? What are you doing here?”, you asked, rubbing your eyes from the intensity change of the light coming from the hallway.

”We just finished a case and I thought of bringing you something to eat”, she cautiously responded, looking with a worried expression at you - you were clearly not taking care of yourself.

She didn’t want to ask when was the last time you ate. She felt awful, failing at the one promise she told Emily before she left - that she would take care of you in her absence.

”Thanks”, you weakly told her, not looking inside the bag - the mere thought of food made you sick, “I appreciate it, but you know you don’t have to take care of me”.

”I know, y/n, but I know how hard it-“

”You can’t possibly know how hard it is for me, JJ”, you muttered, your temper running short, “whatever you might think, it’s at least one hundred times worse. Look, I appreciate the gesture, but please leave. I don’t want you here”.

You watched the pained look on her face as she defeatedly nodded, “I’m sorry”.

”Sorry won’t bring her back”, your tears quickly resurfaced.

You couldn’t control yourself, letting them flow as you heard the apartment’s door opening and then closing, self-hatred coursing through your veins.

You’ve pushed away the one person who was constantly there for you, who actually cared.

—

“I rewind the tape but all it does is pause

On the very moment all was lost”

“Emily, no! Stay awake baby, open those beautiful eyes for me”, you panicked, trying to keep her awake as long as possible.

The sound of the sirens could easily be heard in the background, but why weren’t they getting closer?

Why aren’t they getting closer !?

“Emily, come on”, you sobbed, trying anything in your power to make her look at you for a little while longer, “you can’t die on me. You promised we’d be together forever”.

You could see the defeated look in her eyes, already accepting her fate.

No no no no no! Emily never gives up.

“Please don’t leave me”, you held her close, your own clothes soaking in her blood, “I love you”.

Suddenly, dozens of paramedics started to show up, but instead of saving Emily, they just stared at you, not moving an inch from the ambulances.

“What…what are you doing?! Help her! Please, I’m begging you!”, you weakly screamed, watching them as they stared at you.

“I love you”, you suddenly heard coming from Emily, then you felt her whole body going limp in your arms.

“No no no no, Emily! Wake up baby, please wake up!”, you desperately cried for her, but you got nothing in response.

Only then, a pair of paramedics approached you, taking her away and leaving you in the pool of her blood. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t talk, you couldn’t fight, you just watched as the love of your life slowly disappeared from your vision.

“Emily!”, you screamed, waking up in your sweat instead of the blood, but you could swear that you were still able to smell it.

You brought your hands to your chest, trying to take deep breaths - this was not your usual nightmare with her, it was much worse. It was a sick, twisted way of your brain giving you what you haven’t actually experienced - being next to her in her last moments.

Every single night you had this constant nightmare of her death, your mind trying to imagine how it would’ve been like to be in Derek’s place that day, and you couldn’t make it stop.

You stared at the empty side of the bed, wishing nothing more than to be able to be held in your girlfriend’s arms again, telling you that everything is okay and that it was just a nightmare. And that she was right there and you had nothing to be afraid of.

But she wasn’t there. She will never be there again.

Oh, what you would give for it to have been a simple nightmare.

Suddenly, you started to panic.

“She will never be there again”, your mind couldn’t wrap around that thought.

“You will be all alone, forever”

“Maybe that’s for the better, you never deserved her”

“You’re so pathetic, being so dependent on a person. She’s finally free from dealing with you. It’s for the better”

“Stop”, you gritted your teeth, trying to make your mind go quiet, “please stop”.

But you already knew you were going to lose. The only times you didn’t, Emily was by your side. Dread filled your body, knowing well what you were capable of.

“I bet she would’ve left either way if she saw you right now. So weak. So worthless”.

“Just give up already”, you already knew where this was going, but it didn’t make it any easier.

You didn’t know why a part of you still fought that thought. Maybe it was the years of progress in which you managed not to relapse, even though you had a few close calls. Maybe it was for your own sanity, knowing that once you restart that path, there’s no going back up to the surface.

Before, Emily was with you during the bad days, turning off those awful voices simply with her presence, holding you close and letting you dry your tears on her shirt while telling you that everything was going to be okay.

Now all that was left were the shirts.

“Come on, you know you want to do it. Just one cut, it hardly counts”.

Without noticing, you were already on your way to the bathroom, even though there was a part of you screaming to go back, to not give in. But you were so exhausted, physically and mentally, that it was your only escape from your thoughts - even if temporarily.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, barely recognising yourself - you had extreme dark circles under your eyes, your hair hadn’t been brushed in days and it wasn’t hard to guess that your teeth had a more intense shade of yellow.

You were disgusted with yourself.

“You look like a monster. You’re lucky Emily won’t be able to see you like this. She would feel repulsed by your appearance”, your mind continued, and your silhouette started to become blurry as tears formed in your eyes for the millionth time.

“I can’t believe she ever loved you”

“Stop!”, you screamed, frantically searching through the cabinets for the razor blade, knowing it was your only option.

Your heart was racing in your chest as you laid your eyes on it, picking it up with your shaky hand.

“One cut, it hardly counts”, you told yourself as you lifted your sleeves, revealing your old, long healed scars.

Pressing it hard against your skin, you slided it on your forearm, taking in the pain that came through. You carefully looked at the droplets of blood that were appearing, watching as they went down on your arm, feeling like you were in a trance.

Suddenly, the slight pain that you were feeling gave you the urge to do more - this wasn’t enough.

The worst part? The too familiar relief that crept through your body made you realize that you were playing a losing game. It was only a matter of time until you would utterly and irreversibly destroy yourself. And you had no desire to change the ending at this point.

You put the razor blade against your skin again, repeating the same process. Again and again, spiraling out of control, until your vision became blurry from tears, and the pain was becoming ineffective to your mind.

Blinking for a few times, only now you’ve realized how much you fucked up. Panic immediately settled in.

“Fuck. Oh my god. Shit. What…what did I do?”

Turning on the water, you started to clean the blood off your arm, your heart rate rising again as you watched it going down the drain. Just like your six years of sobriety.

Turning it off, you quickly found the first aid kit, your hands trembling as they opened it. Clearing the cuts was definitely the worst part - you certainly didn’t miss the sting. Not that it even mattered right now.

You hissed at the burning sensation that only increased as you continued to sanitize them, then you rapidly put a bandage on, covering your whole upper forearm.

You sighed - the effect was already gone, but that was when exhaustion hit. Never looking once behind at the mess you left, you made your way to the bedroom, climbing under the blanket.

Only then you acknowledged the occasional twinges of pain that came from your arm. The lump in your throat intensified with the immense shame and guilt that you soon felt, your soul shattering into pieces that could be put together only by one person.

“What have I done?”

“I’m so sorry, my love. I failed you”, you spoke to the still empty side of the bed, wishing that you would be strong enough to pull through this.

—

Your days started to achieve a comfortable pattern as they went on - you could actually function during the day now that you had a solid distraction - and when the sun would settle down, you would find your stability in self-destruction, in the prolonged sadness that you continued to seek, not knowing any different.

You gradually started to do the simple tasks that any normal person wouldn’t think twice about - getting out of bed, brushing your teeth, your hair - and you started doing the groceries on your own, still being the only times you went outside. But it was progress nonetheless, even though you knew deep down that it was a well-built façade for the people around you, the truth being covered underneath your sleeves.

It was going so well - or so you thought.

But everything changed one day when JJ asked you to look after Henry - you didn’t hesitate to say yes, figuring it would be a good distraction from your own mind - and that kid was so full of love, it almost made you think that maybe…maybe life wasn’t that bad.

So, you quickly asked Penelope to pass by and feed Sergio later that day, managing a small smile at her excitement - she loves that cat as much as you do. You dressed with the first decent outfit that came into your mind and drove in a hurry.

You did everything right - made his favorite meal, played together with his little car toys, brought him to the park, letting him guide you through his world with the biggest smile across his face.

And for the first time in almost three months, you actually, genuinely smiled.

When it was his bedtime, you read his favorite story, tucking him in and telling him how much auntie y/n and his parents love him.

He smiled again, but then a frown sprawled across his little face.

”What’s the matter, buddy?”, you asked, your voice filled with concern.

”Don’t wan’ you huwt”, he pouted, looking down at your covered arms.

Oh. Oh no. Did he see your bandages?

“I’m not hurt…I’m okay”, you sigh, trying to find a good enough explanation, “You know how your mommy fights bad guys?”.

He nods, silently watching you with his big eyes.

”Well, I’m fighting my bad guys too”, you smile at him, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, “But it’s nothing for you to be worried about, okay?”.

”Are they bad bad?”, he worriedly asked.

”Nothing I can’t handle, buddy”, you kiss his forehead, brushing his hair with your fingers, “Now go to sleep, my little superhero”.

He grinned, giving you one last hug after you closed the lights and exited his bedroom.

You exhaled sharply as you laid on the couch, dozens of thoughts already running through your head. It was only a matter of time until JJ would come to you asking questions and you couldn’t find one lie that would sound good enough.

You called her at some point, telling her that everything was okay and that Henry was already sleeping, and she thanked you probably for the millionth time that day.

There was that feeling in your chest back - the guilt. But you kept your voice steady throughout the whole conversation, only letting the tears out once you threw your phone somewhere on the couch.

You couldn’t even point out the exact reason why you were crying, but over the past few months you lost your control over it, not being able to shut down and stop the tears anymore. You were surprised that you even had tears left to cry.

You were so tired, but sleeping was not a possibility today, not when you weren’t alone in your apartment so that you could easily fall apart. You had to keep yourself together until the next day.

You had to stay awake so you wouldn’t have to see Emily in your dreams, only to lose her all over again the moment you would wake up.

So you went to the kitchen and poured some coffee in a mug, making yourself comfortable on the couch again as you tried searching for a decent channel on the TV.

“It’s going to be a long night”, you muttered to yourself.

You lost the battle with your eyelids around 7am, but it didn’t take more than two hours until Henry woke you up, demanding pancakes for breakfast.

It also wasn’t long until both JJ and Will arrived home, thanking you again for watching over their son, and you tiredly smiled at them.

You knew the dark circles under your eyes were obvious, so you sighed in relief when no-one commented on them. Though JJ did offer to drive you back to your apartment, you quickly said that she should enjoy her time home with her family and that you’ll be okay.

And you left before she could fight you on this.

—

“Writing letters

Addressed to the fire”

Home - you still couldn’t call it that way, but there wasn’t a better word out there for it.

As soon as you arrived, you could feel the exhaustion hit, mixed with the relief of not having to hide yourself from anyone here. You were alone again, but you’ve started to accept that this is how the rest of your life’s going to be.

Alone.

Going back into the room you’ve spent most of your time in, you crawled into bed and scrunched your face at the light that was coming through the window. You tried pulling the blanket over your head, but it wasn’t enough to shut out the light. So, in one final attempt, you buried your head under the darkness of the pillow, pretending that it was night.

Smiling to yourself, you could feel yourself falling asleep - and you were ready to see Emily again.

—

Same nightmare, same way of waking up in your sweat, your cheeks wet from tears that you didn’t acknowledge at first. You could recall it perfectly at this point, your whole body aching from suffering - you wanted nothing more than to be able to make it stop, but at the same time, you knew if you had the choice - you wouldn’t get rid of them.

Because if you stop seeing the love of your life, even in your nightmares, then it would make it too real. It would mean that you really were alone.

And you couldn’t walk through your life without Emily by your side - it was just wrong. Foolishly, a part of you was still waiting for her to come back, a part of you was still searching for her in the first seconds of your body waking up, unable to grasp the fact that she would never be there.

Would this torment be all you were going to feel for the rest of your life?

No, it was becoming too much again.

Shaking your head, you reached for your phone, being met with a few missed calls and messages…all from JJ.

“y/n, i’m coming over to check if you’re okay”, was the last message she sent you, which was over twenty minutes ago.

Great, just great.

You had no energy to get up, to try to look less messy after sleeping for who knows how long, or to pretend that you’re okay.

It was so exhausting putting on a brave face every time you talked to someone, pretending that your smile is genuine or that your arms weren’t intensively itching underneath those long sleeves.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the doorbell, suddenly starting to work on autopilot as you got up from the bed and went to the door, letting JJ in.

—

“I’m worried about you, y/n”, she sighed, looking across the room to where you were standing, “and I really think you should talk to someone about everything”.

It felt like a punch in the gut - Emily used to be that person. The one who you would tell all your fears, your struggles, your pain and she would listen to you, hold you, her soft touch dissipating every negative feeling that came in your way.

No, you couldn’t replace her.

“I don’t want to!”, you said defensively, “and I don’t need to. I’m okay”.

“Liar”, you could hear a voice inside your head.

She continued looking at you, her words full of concern.

“Henry told me about the bad guys…and he pointed out that your arms looked weird?”, she sighed, almost being scared of not phrasing her words correctly, “y/n, I’m here for you, okay? I don’t want to lose you too”, she felt like such a hypocrite to say that.

But it seemed to get to you.

Your stomach dropped.

“I just…”, you felt your eyes filling with tears, “I don’t want a therapist, JJ. I want my Emily back. Nobody else can fix what’s inside of me right now”

Her heart broke at your words, wishing that she could tell you the truth, that she could make your pain stop.

Suddenly, an idea came through her mind.

“What if…what if you could talk to her. Not in the way you would actually want, but…”, she saw the despair in your eyes as she kept going, “you could write her letters”.

“Letters?”, you looked at her confused.

“Yes. You know…putting your thoughts and feelings on a piece of paper might help you get through this”, she spoke as she got closer to you with a sad smile across her face, “and you could read them to her when you’re done. I used to talk to my sister this way”.

Now it was your turn to return the sad smile. You knew what she was talking about, and you also knew that it’s still hard for her to recall those memories. So, instead of fighting any kind of help, like you would usually do, you let her words sink in.

Letters…maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe…maybe it will help. At least you hoped so.

You didn’t want to think about the other option.

“And if you don’t want to watch the pile of letters growing, you can give them to me”, she noticed your puzzled look, “I promise I won’t read anything”, she immediately clarified, “I just think that…since letters are made to be sent, you can give them to me. I’ll store them for you”.

You had no energy to question her words or to try thinking of any other options, and you knew that she would leave faster if you just agreed to everything she was saying.

“Okay”, you let out, “I’ll do it”.

“You will?”, she happily said, hugging you, “Thank you for trying this. I hope it will help you as much as it helped me”.

“I hope so too”, you smiled at her, even though you still felt hopeless on the inside.

JJ left not too long after that, and you sighed in relief.

“Letters…”, you let your mind wander around the idea.

You knew that this was her giving you a chance before she would be insisting on therapy again, but that was a worry for later. Maybe this could help.

You hoped it would, since you were soon starting to work again, all your days off being already used.

You shook your head, the thought of Emily not being in the chair next to yours breaking your heart again.

You couldn’t do this.

Without realizing, your mind led you to the bathroom again, maintaining you on the pattern you created.

—

On your last day before going back to work, your mind was plagued with thoughts from the moment you woke up, your chest feeling heavier than before - if it was even possible.

You reflected on the possible options to quiet your mind, miserably trying to prevent your body from any more scars. But it was like you couldn’t even stand a chance against yourself as you let your tears flow on your way to the bathroom.

You steadied yourself against the sink, gripping it tightly with your hands. You fixated your eyes on the person in the mirror, every ounce of hatred roaming through your body.

“Do it”.

“No”.

“Do it”.

“No”, you say louder than the previous time.

“Just one-“

“NO!”, you screamed, punching the mirror, “No more…no more scars. You can’t hurt me anymore, I’m not afraid of you”.

Your bruised hand started trembling as you watched droplets of blood going down your fingers, and panic filled your body.

No no no no no what did I do?

You desperately ran the water and started cleaning the mess you made, bandaging it almost instinctively, which subconsciously made you hate yourself all over again.

You let yourself sink on the floor as you kept on crying, the crippling loneliness feeling like a dagger to your heart. This was not who you wished to become.

“I’m not…I’m not afraid to…to keep on living”, you tried convincing yourself, “I’m not afraid to walk this world alone”.

But it only intensified your pain, feeling like you were losing control over yourself again.

That’s when it came to you - the letters, notes, writing down everything. You didn’t even think twice about it, forcing your body to get up, frantically searching for your notebook.

Relief washed over your body as you laid your eyes on it, and soon all the darkness that crept through your mind was transferred to the words that you were writing without even thinking. Easily losing track of time, you grabbed a few papers and started creating the letter from the spilled words in your notebook, telling Emily exactly how you feel.

By the end of it, a little part of you was actually glad that she couldn’t read this - you could still imagine the pained look on her face, her beautiful eyes full of sadness. It only made the ache in your heart grow.

Glancing your eyes outside, you noticed the gorgeous mixed shades of orange and pink on the sky, and your mind immediately went to her. You couldn’t explain it, but it was like she was here, with you, and you cried from the little comfort that you felt in that moment.

Grabbing the written pages, you opened the bedroom window, for the first time sitting on her side of the bed. And you read to her everything that you’ve written with tears in your eyes, a few of them falling on the paper itself.

“I love you”, you whispered at the end, hugging the letter as if it was your connection to her. As if the gesture was somehow paving her the way back home to you.

You felt foolish, waiting for a love that would never come back.

But at least this way…you could feel a bit closer to her.

You soon made your way to JJ’s house, dropping off the letter and then going back to the apartment.

—

The last thing Emily expected was one of her neighbors handing her an envelope, fearing for the worst as she thought that her cover had been blown up.

Taking it in her hand, she thanked the lady, trying not to show the anxiety and fear through her mimics as she went back into her apartment.

Sitting at her desk, she held her breath as she carefully opened it, her fingers trembling while she unfolded the paper.

Right then her heart stopped - this was…this was your writing. She knows it too well. It was from you. It really was.

“Oh my god”, she murmured, a thousand questions roaming through her mind.

Her eyes darted on the letter, the desperation of hearing from you beating any other rational thought. She could feel each beating of her heart as she started reading.

“Dear Emily,

Is there even a proper way to start this? I don’t know. But hi, it’s me - you would’ve probably recognised my writing by now if you could read this”.

She couldn’t help the wave of tears that were welling in her eyes already, a bittersweet smile curling at her lips from how well you knew her - and how well she knew you.

“JJ suggested writing my feelings down on a piece of paper, so prepare yourself, because it’s a lot. I don’t even know how to describe what I’m feeling. I just know that this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, we weren’t supposed to be torn apart like this. And then I feel like the world is laughing at me, because this is how it is, and I get no saying in this matter, just having to accept the reality that I’m living in, but I can’t”.

Guilt rushed through her body in an instant with every beating of her heart, her lip quivering from the pain that echoed from this letter — from your pain. The pain that she caused you.

“It’s weird, because on some days I am completely detached from the reality that you’re actually gone, doubting if I can bring myself to remain present in a present that has no element of you in it. I’d rather remain present in a past that has you, your smile, your voice, hoping that if I focus hard enough, it will replace this actual nightmare of a present. And there are the days when it hits me that you’re not coming back home, and I have to hold onto the pain because it’s all I have left of you. I knew that it was cruel to be so foolishly optimistic, but, in my solitude, I couldn’t resist the urge and spent entire days basking in idiotic fantasies, sometimes verging on a prayer. A prayer that I could hear the twist of your keys again, and recognise it’s you by the way you open the door, and that I would get to jump in your arms and never let you go again”.

Emily was fully crying by this point, her heart crumbling with every word that she was reading. She wished nothing more than to be able to walk through that door and right into your arms, to tell you how incredibly sorry she is, hoping you would forgive her. Hoping that you would forgive all the suffering she put you through.

”But of course, you never come. How could you? You’re not even alive. It’s not fair, you don’t know how awful it is without you. There is this hole in the world where you used to be, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime and falling at night. It’s when I realize, oh God, I am so alone. It’s happening again. I find myself wondering if it will ever stop, if this feeling will ever go away, if the loneliness will ever cease. My mind answers for me instantly, with the harshest no I’ve ever heard. And then I cry, because I don’t want to feel like this my whole life. I’m so afraid, not having a place to call home anymore. It lost its meaning the day you left, and I don’t think I’ll ever find it again”.

Tears turned into sobs, feeling like a bullet striking right through her soul as she read this paragraph, her hands trembling on the paper, struggling to not fall apart.

What has she done?

She completely destroyed the love of her life, and she couldn’t do anything but watch the aftermath of her actions.

“I wish we had more time together. I wish I knew what to do with all the love I have for you, where to put it in your absence. I miss you. I miss you so much. And I wish I knew what to do with my life, what to do with my heart…I let the tears fall on my face as I find myself wishing to be able to be beside you just one more time, knowing it would tear me apart even more. But I would still do it, if it meant being able to see you again. I would give anything for that. I don’t know who I am anymore, without you here. It’s like you took a part of my soul with you that day and left me wandering around, trying to find the piece that will always be missing. Please come back Emily, please. I don’t want to walk this life alone”.

She clutched the letter to her chest, the desperation in your words almost taking her breath away - the torment and agony of feeling so helpless causing every part of her being to ache.

”I’m so sorry”, she whispered through her sobs, endlessly repeating it as if you could hear her.

She wished she could do more, oh how much she wished it. To book the first plane ticket back to the States and rush to you like her life depended on it, and it killed her that she couldn’t do that. To hold you and wipe your tears away, to scatter the pain inside your heart with her presence, to tell you that everything is okay and that you didn’t lose one another.

It wasn’t fair.

Almost fearful, she placed the letter back on her desk, continuing to read it.

“Is it selfish to want you to come back, despite the suffering that you went through? Maybe it is, I don’t know. I just want you here. But I know you’re in a better place, at least I’d like to think that. I was never much of a religious person, but here I find myself hoping that Heaven exists and that it’s treating your soul with nothing but kindness. I hope it’s full of peace and happiness, that you are free from the pain that you’ve endured for so long, that you can be carefree and laugh and smile, that you’re feeling everything I haven’t since I lost you. And if somehow you can hear me, I need you to know that I forgive you for breaking our promise - the promise that we’ll be together forever. I know you wanted to protect us, I know. It still hurts, I don’t think it will ever stop, but I know. And I’ll keep holding on my part, because I’ll never stop loving you. Forever and always, isn’t that what we told each other? You were my person, my everything, and I’ll never let you go, at least not from my heart. It’s always been yours. I'm going to miss you until my very last breath. But that’s why I hope that at least you are okay up there, because I never will be. I just hope that, in my freefall, the bottom won’t destroy me completely”.

“Oh, my love”, she brushed her fingers on the spots where your tears were long dried, trying not to ruin it with her own.

It has become a constant battle with her own tears, hopelessly trying to wipe them before they made their way on the tragedy-filled letter, whilst every fiber of her being wanted to scream from the top of her lungs until you could hear her, that she’s still here, living in a nightmare of her own.

The words written on this letter, she feels each and every one of them, hitting her harder as they went on, slowly destroying another little part of her. She couldn’t even feel an ounce of relief at the thought of you forgiving her, when she has hurt you irremediably so.

And even in this suffering, you wished her every wonderful thing that you could - and of course you would, she didn’t expect it to be any other way. She didn’t even know if she preferred you to be angry at her, but one thing was clear - she would have deserved it.

But you would never do that.

”Anyway, I’m going back to work tomorrow, first time without you being there, and God, I have no idea how I’m going to pull through. Without you next to me at the table, or in the car, or on the plane, or anywhere at all. I wish I could hear you say one more time that it’s going be okay and that I’m strong enough to do it, because I really don’t feel like I am. My only hope is that it will get easier over time, even if it feels like wishful thinking at the moment. Because otherwise, I don’t see things ending well for me. And I know you’d be incredibly worried if you could hear me, so part of me hopes that you’re in your little bubble of paradise and cannot hear my rambling. But if you somehow heard me, I hope you can accept my love and pain without the guilt that comes with them. And I want to finish this by saying that I love you and always will, and I’ll carry you in my heart everywhere you cannot be, through all of my days, for the rest of my life”.

Goddamnit...

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x fem!reader #jennifer jareau x platonic!reader #emily prentiss x you #angst #criminal minds #criminal minds x fem!reader #heavy angst #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

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ghsface · 13 days

Text

It's okay to cry. It's okay to not be okay...

Bau team x bau!reader

Sumary: Sometimes I need to remind myself and others that survival doesn’t just mean being okay, it means learning to laugh at what scared us. And if I don’t do it, who else will?

Warnings: mentions of attempted suicide, lots of blood, some dark humor at the end, cuts on arms, bathtub full of blood, no use of t/n (if you don't feel good reading this please don't read it, I also tried to approach this topic with too much care and delicacy and respect, I hope not to offend anyone)

Author's note: September is suicide prevention month. "suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem" is something that you always hear people say.. and it's true.

speaking from my personal experience, it's something that was on my mind many months many years ago, and I was able to put those thoughts aside thanks to people who I thought were never going to help me, it was a long and very hard process but now I can tell you that I'm completely fine, once they told me if you have people to write a farewell letter to it's because at least someone cares about you, you may have heard this before but it's true, you will always have someone to support you even if you think you have no one, also once they told me if you ever have these thoughts again or even try again ask for help it doesn't matter who just ask for help, whatever way ask for help, those words marked me almost all of my adolescence tbh and it helped me, I hope that if you are going through this alone, you can talk to me, my messages will always be open for whatever it is help or just talking, feel free to do so, if you read this up to here I really appreciate that you did<333

The BAU team was uneasy. It wasn't often that someone on their team disappeared without a trace, much less you. Emily Prentiss had been the first to notice your absence, as you never missed work without notice. Days ago, you had requested a brief leave for personal matters, but you hadn't returned to the office or answered any calls or messages since. As the days passed, worry turned to fear.

JJ, Spencer, and Emily decided to go to your house, as they could no longer ignore the fact that something wasn't right. The atmosphere in the car was tense. JJ kept his hands tightly on the wheel, while Spencer stared out the window, his mind wandering through thousands of possibilities, each one worse than the last. Emily, in the backseat, checked her phone over and over again, hoping in vain to receive some news from you.

When they arrived at your house, the silence was deathly. The windows were closed, and the door seemed intact, but there was something in the air, something that made them hold their breath. Emily pulled out her gun, and after exchanging a worried look with JJ and Spencer, they decided to go inside.

“anyone home?” JJ shouted as she walked down the hallway to the entrance. There was no response.

Spencer’s heart was pounding as they made their way into the living room. Everything was in order, not a sign of a struggle, but something wasn’t right. Every step they took, every corner they inspected, increased the feeling that something terrible had happened.

It was Emily who first noticed the bathroom door ajar. She approached it slowly, holding her breath, as a dark foreboding took hold of her. Pushing open the door, the scene she found was enough to make her stomach turn.

There you were, in the bathtub, submerged in the red-tinged water. Your arms hung at your sides, covered in deep cuts, blood still slowly flowing from the wounds.

“Oh my God!” JJ exclaimed from the doorway, her voice cracking.

Spencer walked into the room behind her, and for a second, the world seemed to stop. She’d never felt such paralyzing fear, such sharp pain in her chest. The air became thick, almost impossible to breathe.

Emily was the first to react, rushing to you, her hands shaking as she tried to pull your unconscious body out of the water. “Call an ambulance, JJ!” she screamed, trying to stay calm, though her hands were shaking uncontrollably.

Spencer knelt beside you, her eyes flooding with tears. “You can’t do this... you can’t leave us like this,” she whispered, her voice thick with desperation.

JJ tried to call 911, but the desperation in his voice made the words catch in his throat. He finally managed to give the address, but the operator informed him that the ambulance would take a while to arrive due to an accident on the main road. Without wasting any more time, JJ made a decision. “We can’t wait, we have to take her ourselves!”

Without thinking twice, the three of them carried you out of the bathroom, wrapping you in towels to stop the bleeding. Spencer held you, his hands still stained with your blood, as they rushed you to the car.

The trip to the hospital was agony. Every second that passed, every breath you took, or stopped taking, was like a stab in the heart of each of them. Emily, driving at full speed, struggled not to lose concentration while JJ, from the backseat, pressed on your wounds, trying to keep you conscious. Spencer kept talking to you, murmuring words of encouragement, pleading with you not to leave, to stay with them.

Finally, they arrived at the hospital, and the doctors immediately took you into surgery. The BAU team, who had been alerted, arrived soon after. Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Garcia joined Emily, JJ, and Spencer in the waiting room. The hours passed slowly, each minute a silent torture as they waited for news from you.

Spencer kept staring at his hands, your words echoing in his mind. He couldn’t shake the image of you, limp and lifeless in that bathtub. He felt helpless, riddled with guilt for not realizing what was happening to you. He loved you, more than he’d ever dared to admit, and the thought of losing you was too painful to bear.

Finally, the doctor emerged from the operating room, his expression grave. “She’s stable for now, but the blood loss was significant. We had to suture multiple wounds and are monitoring for possible nerve damage. It’s a miracle they brought her in on time.”

The relief was palpable, but so was the sadness. They knew that even though you had survived, the battle wasn’t over. They would have to face the reasons why you had gotten to that point, figure out what had happened, and most of all, be there for you, to help you heal.

Spencer walked up to the ICU door, looking at you through the glass. His eyes filled with tears, he rested a hand on the glass. “I’m sorry… I didn’t realize how bad you were,” he whispered, feeling the weight of guilt crushing him.

Emily and JJ accompanied him, each feeling a mix of relief and pain. They knew the road to your recovery would be long and difficult, but they were determined to be by your side every step of the way, no matter what it took.

When you were finally able to open your eyes days later, the first thing you saw were the tired but relieved faces of your teammates. You knew you had plunged into a darkness that seemed insurmountable, but seeing the people who loved you by your side, you knew you wouldn’t be alone on the road back to the light.

The dim glow of the hospital’s fluorescent lights welcomed you back into the conscious world. Your head hurt, and you felt the weight of the blankets on your body, but what caught your attention the most was the soft sound of someone breathing next to you. You slowly turned your head and met the tired, worried eyes of Spencer, who had been watching over you.

“Spencer…” your voice came out as a whisper, rough from lack of use and medication. You were surprised at how weak you felt, as if a large part of you had vanished.

He sat up instantly, his eyes filling with relief at seeing you awake. “You’re awake…” he said in a tone that reflected a mix of joy and pain. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry... If I had known… If I had noticed something…” The weight of his guilt hit you hard. Even though every fiber of your being was exhausted, you couldn’t let Spencer carry that pain. But before you could answer, the door to the room opened, and Emily and JJ rushed in, closely followed by Hotch and Rossi.

Emily approached you, tears in her eyes, but keeping her composure. “You scared the hell out of us,” she said softly, gently taking your hand. “You don’t have to go through this alone, understand? We’re here for you, always.” JJ sat on the other side of the bed, his blue eyes filled with concern. “Whatever you’re going through… you can tell us. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

The room was filled with a heavy silence, everyone waiting for you to say something, anything to help them understand what had brought you to this point. You knew they were worried, that they wanted to help you, but it wasn’t easy to put into words the storm that had been building inside you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice breaking, feeling tears build up in your eyes. “I didn’t want them to know… I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Spencer looked at you in pain, his hands shaking slightly as he took yours. “You would never be a burden to us. Never.”

Hotch, who had been watching silently, stepped forward. His voice was firm, but with a tinge of compassion that he rarely showed. “You don’t have to face this alone. Whatever you’re feeling, whatever led you to this, we’re going to be with you every step of the way.”

Hotch’s words, so simple and full of promise, were what finally broke the dam. The tears you’d been holding back for so long began to flow, and with them came a wave of emotions you’d been suppressing: the despair, the loneliness, the pain that had consumed you in silence.

Emily wrapped her arms around you, holding you with a strength that anchored you in the present. “It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to not be okay,” she whispered, her voice shaking with her own pent-up emotions.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, you felt like you could breathe, if only barely. The lump in your chest didn’t go away entirely, but the presence of your peers, your friends, gave you the strength you needed to start talking, to share what you’d been keeping to yourself.

You told them about the pressure you’d felt, the feeling that you were failing, that you couldn’t live up to expectations. You told them how each day had gotten harder to bear, until one day you just couldn’t take it anymore. The words came out in fits and starts, mixed with sobs, but they listened to each one with patience and understanding.

There was no judgment, just support. And as you spoke, little by little, you began to feel the weight that had been weighing you down begin to lighten, if only a little.

When you finally finished, the silence that followed wasn’t awkward. Spencer was still holding your hand, and his gaze reflected both pain and resolve. “You’re not alone in this. You won’t be anymore,” he said firmly.

Hotch nodded. “We’ll have to work together to get through this, but we will. We’ll help you find the support you need, and we’ll be here for you, too.”

Rossi, who had been watching from the back, came over and gently patted you on the shoulder. “Remember, that’s what family is for, to be there in the worst times and the best too.”

At that moment, although you knew the road ahead would be long and difficult, you also knew that you wouldn’t walk it alone. The team weren't just your colleagues, they were your family, and with them by your side, you began to believe that, perhaps, you could find a way to heal.

And although the darkness still lurked, the light of hope, however small, began to shine again.

ONE YEAR LATER...

1 year into recovery brought with it a new version of you, a version that, while still scarred, both physically and emotionally, was fully committed to moving forward with humor and gratitude. You had rejoined the team fully and found a balance between work, your personal life, and your healing process. Your colleagues had learned to appreciate your new style of humor, even when you surprised them with your comments from time to time.

One afternoon, while you were in the office cafeteria with Emily, JJ, and Garcia, you decided to break the silence with a joke, something you had perfected over those past few months.

“Did you know I’ve developed a new skill?” you said, as you poured yourself a coffee. The three womens looked at you curiously. “Now I can say that I’m an expert in abstract art. I just need something sharp and a bad day.”

There was a moment of surprise, but then Emily was the first to laugh, shaking her head. “You know, no one handles dark humor like you.”

JJ nodded, smiling. “True, but at least now we know you do it with complete command of the situation. Although I will never stop being amazed by your ability to make jokes out of something so serious.”

“Well, my traumas, my jokes,” you said with a wink, and the group burst into laughter. They had learned to take your humor as a sign of your progress, a way to remind yourself and them that you were in control, that you wouldn’t let yourself be overcome by the darkness that once trapped you.

Garcia, who until now had been listening in silence, smiled and gave you a gentle nudge. “You know, I think you should consider writing a self-help book: ‘How to survive work and not go crazy. ’ It could be a best-seller.”

“Sure, with special chapters on how to choose something sharp and how not to use them when you have a bad day,” you joked, and everyone laughed again.

Towards the end of the day, as you were gathering your things to head home, you ran into Rossi in the hallway. He looked at you with his typical knowing expression, but with a spark of amusement in his eyes.

“You know, kid I love seeing you make those jokes. It’s a sign that you’re okay, but it’s also a reminder of how far you’ve come.”

You smiled at him, nodding. “Yeah, Dave, I know. Sometimes, I need to remind myself and others that surviving doesn’t just mean being okay, but learning to laugh at what scared us. And if I don’t do it, who else will?”

Rossi let out a soft laugh. “You know, you can always count on me to be your audience. I’m not as good an audience as Spencer, though.”

“Thanks, Dave. I’ll keep that in mind for my next show.”

As you left, you knew you were surrounded by people who understood you, who supported you, and who accepted every part of you, even the darkest ones. But most importantly, you knew you had found a way to move forward: with a smile on your face, a joke on your lips, and a team that, no matter what, would always be by your side.

And as you walked out the door, ready to face whatever came next, you couldn’t help but make one last comment to yourself. “Well, if I survived the bathtub, I’m ready for anything. I just hope there’s more wine and less blood next time.”

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly🫧

#dr spencer reid #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #emily prentiss #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #angst with a happy ending #bau team #jennifer jareau #spencer reid angst #emily prentiss angst #jennifer jareau angst #aaron hotchner angst

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dontsh0vethesun · 8 months

Text

be quiet

masterlist

emily prentiss x reader

18+: smut; emily has a penis, blowjobs, office sex, lowkey humiliation, talks of punishment, dom!emily, cockwarming kinda??but using a mouth lol, angry emily

a/n - inspired by an ask that i cannot find | wc: 1.1k

You’d known it was inevitable that talking back to her would have its repercussions but having her belittle you for a minor mistake in the field with all of your colleagues around to hear was beyond humiliating.

You should have stayed silent and bitten your tongue. But the flush to her neck as she raised her voice, the way you were shrinking beneath the harshness of her tone despite how desperately you tried not to, only bubbled the anger up your throat. Your words were spat back at her with malice, utterings of her need to control those around her, and her overreaction at the situation. They’d taken aback not only herself but the onlookers to the tension-fueled argument. You were soon dismissed and ushered back to your desk while she stalked to her office with a slam of her door behind her.

You’d not seen her for hours and you were hoping the atmosphere would have diffused by this evening considering she was the one who’d driven you to work this morning.

Emily, however, had been ruminating on her fury the entire time. Her jaw was beginning to hurt with the way it was so tightly clenched and the work in front of her that she had been working on was now becoming haphazardly completed due to the attention she was paying to thoughts of you instead.

Her annoyance at you oftentimes is accompanied by an arousal and need to dominate you - to put you in your place. She’s convinced you do it on purpose just to be on the receiving end of her wrath. It’s just like you to be desperate for her rough hand.

She thought back to just the previous night when she had you beneath her and crying out her name for hours on end, clambering onto her body as though it was your lifeline, the way your breathless body panted and moaned under hers with her fingers in your mouth and her dick fucking you into the mattress whilst you begged her for more. She couldn’t get enough.

And now, with these memories freshly implanted into her mind and her skin so hot she had to rid herself of her blazer lest the anger fuelled heat burn her skin, she could feel herself getting harder by the second. She wanted you. She was ravenous and starving for you, aching in her jeans to keep your slutty mouth silent.

She picked up her phone to send you a message and peeked out through the blinds of her office windows to watch your attention be taken by the vibration beside you. She watched you read her instruction and positioned herself in her chair when she watched you make your way to her, legs splayed and her arms sporting rolled up shirt sleeves resting on the arms of the seat.

“Come here,” she spoke. No greeting to ease the tension, just a gesture to the ground between herself and her robust desk.

You could see her growing bulge from where she’d been palming at herself with all of the thoughts running through her mind, she was needy for you and your lips but she didn’t want to hear a word. You didn’t even dare to mutter a teasing comment at her obvious desperation. You just did as she wanted - you only ever wanted to obey her - taking your place on your knees as she’d silently instructed once you had approached.

“If you’re gonna use that fucking mouth to be bratty, you can use it now,” she rasped, unbuckling her belt to release her hard cock. “I don’t want to ever, hear you talk back to me at work.”

“Em, I’m sor-”

“No talking,” she interrupted with a harsh grip around your neck halting your words. “If I have to force you to be quiet, that’s what I’m going to do.”

She left no room for argument, not that you’d even try underneath the harsh and dark eyes she scrutinised you with. Instead, you let her push your head down, parting your lips for the tip of her cock, moaning slightly at the taste of the precum that landed on your tongue when you licked the head. You knew what she liked and she groaned out above you at the feeling.

Her nails bore into into your scalp, long fingers tangled up in your hair as she orchestrated every single movement of your head, merely using your mouth as something to fuck. As long as it kept you quiet.

Just as she’d eased each inch into your throat, her phone rang out into the quiet of the room. You thought that this would mean a slight, if momentary, reprieve of the cock that filled your mouth and nudged so deeply into you. But, when Emily has a punishment in mind she doesn’t carry it out leniently.

She forced your head to still when she answered the phone and spoke for much longer than was necessary, only smirking darkly with each glance she darted at your head in her lap. Your jaw ached and your lips salivated around her length, tears streaked down your cheeks at the way you gagged around her.

Your hands dug into her hips, holding onto her just hoping she’d set you free but she kept you in your place. There was no possibility for any semblance of movement. She enjoyed the helpless way you sporadically gasped for breath.

“There’s something so pretty about seeing you so quiet,” she murmured once she’d placed the phone back onto its receiver. “I knew my good girl was still in there.”

It was only then that she let you pull away for just a moment to catch your breath but she soon pushed your lips into the head of her throbbing cock, she was more aroused than ever with how the heat of your mouth had had her aching.

Your head bobbed in her lap, lips around her shaft and your tongue licking the skin with each glide over it. Her hips lifted from the leather of her cushioned chair, her head leaning back with her bottom lip caught between her teeth at the pleasurable feelings coursing through her.

“Fuck, you feel so good, sweet girl,” she murmured. “I’m gonna cum into that slutty mouth of yours.”

Her words ony spurred you on and the groan that vibrated onto her dick was enough to be mirrored by her as her seed filled your mouth, spurts of cum painting the back of your throat with familiarity. You swallowed every drop as she continued to fuck your mouth for as long as she wanted to, milking herself of every mouthful she could give you, letting herself rid her body of the ravenous arousal that had been plaguing her.

She eyed the way she dripped from your shining lips onto your chin and pulled you in for a kiss once she’d wiped it clean with the pad of her thumb.

“I’ll deal with you later,” she growled into your ear after she’d trailed kisses across your jaw and you waited in anticipation once she’d dismissed you back to your desk.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x female reader

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 1 month

Note

Hey could I get an Angsty fic with wife Olivia Benson/Emily Prentiss (which ever you want) where the reader is a detective/profiler and gets hurt badly and Emily/olivia are the ones to find them and they have to keep them awake until the paramedics get there?

You can pick the injury

Hey @yanginginthere! 😊 It's been a minute since I wrote for Olivia, so that's what I did here! Hope you enjoy! –illdowhatiwantthanks

Eyes Open

Olivia Benson x fem!reader Warnings: MAJOR BIG HUGE WARNINGS for gun violence/school shootings, blood, death, etc., medical emergencies, near-death situation, hospitals, explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 2.0k

Summary: When the rest of the squad is hesitant to enter the scene of a school shooting, you make one of the rashest decisions of your life--one you might not come back from. Your wife, Olivia, races to get to you in time.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you thought as you watched blood pour from your abdomen. You were on the ground before you knew what was happening, before you could evaluate the situation. You pressed your hands over the gunshot wound, trying not to think about how much blood was seeping between your fingers.

You glanced around the room, panicked, nearly sick to your stomach. The racetrack rug, the little cubbies, the bodies. You wretched and vomited before collapsing onto your back. Your partner, Mendoza, lay on the opposite side of the room, pale, wide-eyed, still. Dead. He was dead. You swallowed back tears. Now was not the time to cry.

The shooter’s blood had sprayed across the bookshelves when you shot him. You couldn’t get close enough to feel for a pulse, but he wasn’t moving. So he was at least incapacitated. What you needed was to call for backup, to get the rest of the cowards from the NYPD–the ones who sat outside to wait for backup while you could hear children screaming–to get their asses in here and help. You and Mendoza had gone in against orders, had ignored a direct command from a superior officer to wait for backup. And, god knows, you’d both paid for it, but if even one child made it out that wouldn’t have otherwise, it would be worth it.

You felt for your radio at your side and groaned when you realized it had been shot by the same bullet that was now lodged inside of you. Your vision was starting to grow fuzzy; it was only a matter of time until you passed out. And who knew how long until backup finally decided to enter the elementary school?

You heard movement and jerked your head to the side to see the very top of a small head poking out from the supply closet.

“Hey!” you shouted, crying out in relief. The child shrank back, and you called, “No, no, no, it’s okay! It’s okay. I know it’s scary. It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m a police officer. I’m here to help you. That man with the gun, he can’t hurt you anymore. But I need your help. Do you think you could come out here and help me?”

The boy poked his head out again, a little bit farther, and you could see that his face was tear-stained, covered in snot. Your heart broke for him. You wanted to cry. You hated to traumatize him further, but you also knew that if you didn’t get backup and EMTs in here as soon as possible, more people were going to lose their lives–including you.

“Hi, honey,” you said as he stared at you, wide-eyed. “My name’s Y/N. What’s yours?”

He sucked in a breath, then shakily replied, “Arturo.”

You nodded. “Arturo. That’s a nice name. You’re being really brave, sweetheart. Is there anyone else in there with you?”

He nodded his head.

“How many people?”

Arturo held up five fingers.

“Five?” you asked, trying to focus your eyes.

He nodded.

“Are there any grown-ups?”

His face screwed up, like he was about to cry, and he shook his head.

“Okay, honey. That’s okay. Listen. Arturo, we need to call for help so the other police officers and the ambulance drivers can get in here and help everybody. Okay?”

He didn’t respond. You pointed to your busted radio. “My walkie talkie broke, but my partner’s should still work. He’s right over there… just–” You shuddered. God, you were having a child grab a device from a dead body. This poor kid. All these poor kids. But you didn’t know what else to do. “Just don’t look at his face or anything,” you told him. “The walkie talkie on his belt, that’s what we need. Can you do that for me, Arturo?”

He shook as he stood, and you could tell he’d wet himself in fear. Tears sprang to your eyes as you watched him wobble toward Mendoza’s body. “You’ve already been so brave, buddy, I just need you to be brave a little bit longer.”

You closed your eyes briefly, trying to fight the dizziness that swam inside your head.

“It’s stuck,” Arturo whimpered, and you snapped your eyes open.

“Okay, buddy,” you said, wracking your brain for a solution. “That’s alright. Umm… there’s a little button on the side, do you see that?”

Arturo nodded, his fingers wet with Mendoza’s blood.

“Alright, just press the button and hold it down, and then repeat what I say. Okay, Arturo?”

“Okay,” he whimpered, holding his little hand against the radio.

You exhaled sharply, as the pain in your abdomen surged. “Say, This is Officer Y/L/N.”

He repeated it, looking at you with wide, scared eyes.

“Badge number 11227.”

You gulped as your vision blurred, trying to be as concise as possible.

“Shooter is down. Officers down. Requesting immediate backup and medical assistance.”

You could feel your body falling out of consciousness, could hear Arturo talking to the other officers through the radio, but it was far away, as if you were in a tunnel.

“Please help,” he cried, fresh tears running down his cheeks. “She’s not talking anymore.”

The last thought you had before blacking out was that your wife would kill you if you died.

“Clear!” Olivia shouted, moving from classroom to classroom at PS 717, gun at the ready. The rest of the officers stopped as needed to help evacuate children and school staff, to give first aid as needed, but she and Elliot were single-minded. They had one job, and she had insisted it be theirs as the NYPD prepared to enter the scene: find the shooter and confirm that he was down.

The last person they had heard from was you. Well, a little boy who had your name and badge number and said all the right things and, therefore, was presumably with you. She was furious with you, furious that you’d gone in without backup, furious that you were so goddamned good and brave, that you would be willing to sacrifice your life for these kids, even though it was one of the things she loved most about you. And, truthfully, underneath all that fury was just plain fear. Absolute terror. Where were you?! Obviously you were hurt if you couldn’t call in yourself. And, from the sound of it, it had been you who took down the shooter.

“Liv!” Elliot yelled from a classroom down, and she sprinted toward him, her heart in her throat. Elliot was already on the radio: “We need medical here stat! East wing of the school, fourth classroom on the right. We’ve got two officers down, shooter down, multiple civilian casualties.”

Olivia burst into the classroom, her eyes quickly taking in the damage: Mendoza down, shooter down, kids crying in the corner, civilians down, and you. Her heart was in her throat as she holstered her gun and dropped to your side.

“No, no, no, baby,” she cried, cradling your limp head and feeling for a pulse. “Stay with me, sweetheart. You are too damn stubborn to go out like this.” Your pulse was thready and weak, as was your breath. She brushed your hair out of your face, trying hard to keep herself breathing, to not fall apart, not yet. She smacked you lightly on the face until you coughed and blinked your eyes open.

Olivia let out a sob of relief and caressed your face, pressing her free hand on top of yours to stifle your bleeding.

“Liv?” you groaned. Then weakly pointed in the direction of the shooter. “Is he…”

“He’s down, baby, he’s dead. You got him.”

You coughed again and winced, your body shaking with cold or trauma or both. “Arturo?” you asked, glancing around for him.

“The little boy?” she clarified. You nodded. “He’s safe, he’s okay. He’s with Elliot.”

Your body started to shake more violently and it was if, finally, the terror of the day had caught up with you. Tears streamed down your face. Your skin was clammy and your breath came in short huffs. You weren’t stupid. You knew what they meant, all the signs in your body: hypovolemic shock. You’d lost too much blood. You were dying.

You’d like to say that, in what you assumed were your dying moments, your life flashed before your eyes, that you thought of everything you’d experienced and everything you’d not yet been able to. But, honestly, you were just scared. And sad to leave Olivia.

“I love you,” you choked out as your eyelids fluttered between open and shut.

“No, no,” Olivia protested, grasping your face in her hands. “Don’t you fucking say goodbye to me, Y/N. This is not fucking goodbye! You keep your eyes open, Officer. That’s a direct order!”

And you really did try. You really did fight to keep Olivia’s face in front of you, her terrified, tear-stained face. You just couldn’t bear to leave her, not like this.

When you finally lost consciousness, Olivia yelling your name was the last thing you heard.

You woke up god knows how much later in a hospital bed, with several wires attached to you and an ungodly amount of pain in your abdomen, not to mention a mouth so dry it felt like your tongue had been left to dehydrate.

Before you knew what was happening, Olivia’s lips were on yours, her hands grasping the side of your face so tightly you thought there was a good chance she might never let you go.

“You fucking asshole,” she cried, her tears wet against your skin. “You almost died!”

She kissed you a few more times for good measure, then leaned back to look at you, your own tears streaming now. She sniffled and wiped your eyes, smiling even as she cried. “Why do you have to be so goddamned brave, huh?”

You shrugged, then winced. “No, no, don’t move!” she exclaimed. “Just… let yourself rest, okay?” She shook her head. “You really scared me.”

“I’m sorry, love,” you croaked out. You blinked tears away and looked at the ceiling, trying hard to banish the mental images of Mendoza, of the blood, of the civilians. “I just… I couldn’t…”

“I know,” she said, taking your hand. “I would’ve done the same thing.”

You coughed and frowned at her. “You better fucking not.”

She pointed to the table next to your hospital bed, stacked with cards and flowers. “You’ve got quite a lot of fans now.”

You shook your head. You didn’t deserve fans. If anyone deserved the recognition, it was Mendoza. You tried not to think of him, knew you’d start crying if you did.

“Here,” Olivia said, holding out a folded sheet of paper. “Read this one. It’s good.”

There was a stick-figure drawing of you as a superhero and a messy, misspelled note:

Dear Ofiser Y/L/N, thak you so much for helpig me be brav and for gettig the bad gy. Yor my heero. Arturo Guerrero.

Your eyes were swimming by the time you finished reading it. You should be the one thanking him.

“The NYPD’s giving you a Medal of Honor, too, when you’re well enough. You’re a hero, honey,” Olivia said, tracing your cheekbone with her thumb. “A dumb, brave idiot of a hero. But my hero, all the same.”

You didn’t know how you felt about this hero business, didn’t feel like you deserved it. You’d just done your job. And your job required a bit more of you this time around.

“Liv,” you ventured, uncomfortable.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Please don’t call me that.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “A hero?”

You nodded.

“What should we call you then?”

You smiled wryly. “Just Y/N.”

Olivia leaned forward to brush your hair out of your face, staring lovingly at you. “How about love of my life?”

You smiled and squeezed her hand. “Yeah. That’ll do.”

#olivia benson #olivia benson x reader #olivia benson x fem!reader #olivia benson fanfic #svu #law and order svu #svu fanfic

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railingsofsorrow · 3 months

Note

Emily Prentiss x reader with the song “Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?”.

They’re dating and an unsub takes reader (reader can be part of the BAU or not) and it’s like a switch goes off in Emily’s brain and she doesn’t hesitate to do anything to get reader back. When Emily gets reader back they see that side of Emily for the first time and is scared of her because they’ve never seen Emily like that. Bonus if unsub makes reader see what Emily does to get them back to try to make reader hate Emily.

who's afraid of little old me?

[emily prentiss x reader]

summary: Emily didn't know she carried so much rage inside of her until she saw bloody fingers around your neck and a gun pointed at your temple. She should've seen it coming.

pairing: emily prentiss x f!bau!reader w.c: 2.9K warnings/content: case-related violence: blood, gun, gunshot wounds, fainting; flinching; a hint towards police brutality (implied); mentions of psychopathy (implied); language; discussion about committing murder to someone; crying; insomnia; protective emily; angst; fluff.

A/N: hello anon, here's your request. sorry for the delay, I hope you like it :)

[part of “the taylor swift anthology”]

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

[requested]

[press play]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❝ if you wanted me dead

you should've just said. ❞

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Emily.

. . .

Emily!

She woke up with a start. Hyperventilating and shortness of breath, her chest was tight like someone was pressing their hands on it. She couldn't breathe. Not until your hands were touching and comforting her in a way only you knew how to do.

Then, and only then, would she inhale and feel the air entering her lungs.

But two days ago, it wasn't like that. Two days ago, she didn't have you by her side in bed, whispering her name and making her feel safe, which was what she should be doing to you. You were the one who had been kidnapped and held hostage for a week.

Two days ago, Emily almost lost you.

━━━━━━━━━

[Two days ago]

Smoke came out of the car, blurring her vision as she tried to approach the vehicle.

She had taken off her earpiece a while ago, bothered by her team's voice blaring through her ear begging for her to not move forward without backup.

Right. As if that was such an easy task for her to do. Absolutely not. You had been taken a week ago by a woman they've been chasing for two weeks. A witness. She had been right under your noses the whole time and from the moment you walked into her house to get her statement, you'd become prey to her sick games.

I should've seen it coming.

It's what echoed through Emily's brain non-stop.

I should've seen it coming.

When you're on the job, you bottle up your feelings as much as you can in order to focus on cracking the case and saving lives.

Hotch was stern and had that tough exterior that made people think twice before uttering a word, in fear of saying something wrong. He was an unexceptional Unit Chief for the Behavioral Analysis Unit and an even greater friend to Emily. He taught her everything she knows about how to be a good leader and taking that spot that once belonged to him for years was a tough choice. Emily didn't know how she would ever measure up to Aaron Hotchner, but she did know how to lead given her experience in London and that was a start.

Something he had told her once, about letting people in, because they were too much alike on that point.

“When those people say they care, it's usually because they do. When you're on the field, you're coworkers, they're your team. But off the field... you're allowed to let go. They're your friends, Emily. We all are.”

Hotch was trying to tell her not to compartmentalize everything. He was advising her to trust her team, her friends, because she deserved it and she wasn't all alone anymore.

She believed that.

She believed she wasn't all alone anymore the moment you walked into her life with a smile and a plate filled with delicious chocolate chip cookies made by you. That was your first day of work, the first day she saw you, the first time she heard your voice, and the first moment she believed in love at first sight.

Emily would let go when she was with you. She would be vulnerable for the first time in decades. She trusted you with her entire being.

The issue with people that bottle up their feelings, is that they're a ticking time bomb. They hold on for as much as they can, maintaining that harsh exterior and unlimited control, until that control is lost and the fire is set. It explodes. No warning. No previous announcements. It just happens.

Emily didn't know she carried so much rage inside of her until she saw bloody fingers around your neck and a gun pointed at your temple.

I should've seen it coming.

“Megan, let her go.”

Your eyes were locked to Emily's unwavering figure, you sought her eyes but she didn't meet yours, not even for a second.

Your hair was matted with blood and dirt. The blood belonged to you, you've lost count of the fights you had pulled to get out of the hell you were put in. You were most definitely concussed as well, though the headache was barely a pang in the back of your head. Adrenaline was responsible for keeping you standing until now. Once it wears out, you're certain you will collapse in exhaustion and dehydration.

“Why?” The woman whispered in your ear, causing shivers to went down your spine. Her cheek was rubbing against yours. She was asking you why she should let you go.

You know one wrong move can send a bullet straight to your brain and you didn't feel like dying tonight. Especially not in front of Emily.

You admired her professionalism on the field. She'd never deviate or hesitate, always certain about her next move. You were proud of her. Of who she became. Proud of how she let you in in her life.

Emily rarely got mad. She would lean towards annoyance and pout when something didn't work out the way she wanted. She would be the one to calm you down when you were mad, actually.

Now, holding a gun with her gaze set on Megan Gilbert, there was profound anger and determination set in her eyes.

She wouldn't look at you.

"Did you see the damage she did to my partner?" She tightened her hold on your tied hands, pulling at them causing you to wince. "Agent Prentiss, are you playing a hero or an assassin today?"

"Stop it," you hissed. You knew what she was doing and you weren't so sure Emily would hold herself back much longer.

"I think your team will call it overkill, won't they?" Megan didn't even show any sadness over the death of her brother. She wasn't capable of showing emotion. "So many bullet holes in Adrian's head... Tsc tsc tsc. Are you gonna tell them it was self-defense? That's what you all do, isn't that right?"

"Shut up!" You attempt to hit her head with the back of yours, but you barely graze it before she pulls you forward, throwing you on the floor as you groan in pain because of having landed in your right arm in an awkward position because of your tied hands.

"There it is, you have her," Megan drawled out. You have trouble turning over with both your feet and wrists tied up, but you did it. Emily is still pointing her gun at her, her ponytail slightly undone, you see sweat traveling down the side of her face, but she's unmoving, certain. "Now what, Agent Prentiss?"

She looked at you for a glimpse of a second as you fell, taking a step in front of you to make sure Megan wouldn't try anything. She wouldn't, not with her there.

"Emily." You croaked out, voice rough, begging.

The room was filled with a daunting silence. The outcome could only go two ways: Megan Gilbert successfully arrested or with a bullet wound to her head. Judging by Emily's current demeanor, you were leaning towards the latter option. You didn't want that. Not because you cared any bit for Megan, but for how that would affect Emily if she pulled that trigger.

"Em." You called her name again, trying to free yourself from your restraints. Megan had clearly lost her momentary infatuation with you after noticing Emily's reaction at seeing you hurt and she was successfully using that in her favor. Emily was her target now. Not you. Which was why she didn't let go of her gun.

Damn it, Emily. Look at me, don't do it. Don't do it.

"You have her," Megan repeated, tilting her head with her gun wavering around the room with a laugh. "But you don't really have her, do you? Not now, not anymore." Your breath was shallow and you didn't know how much more you were able to keep yourself awake. The adrenaline was starting to wear out. "Because what I did... it will haunt her forever. I left beautiful marks on her body so that she could look in the mirror and see them- see the art I've made. Which, honestly, was a favor. She wasn't that salvageable before-Fuck!"

You flinch back as the loud sound of the gunfire echoed throughout the room.

“Don't you ever, and I mean, ever—” Emily said through gritted teeth, pausing in between each word. “... talk about her again.”

You looked away as she sunk her shoe into the bullet wound on Megan's leg. A maniac laugh escaped from the woman's mouth.

“Oh, that's nice. Have I hit a nerve?”

“Emily.” You leaned back with difficulty, coldness crawling up on you. You could barely feel your legs anymore. You could barely feel anything.

Something seemed to click in Emily's mind, bringing her back to you. When she turned around, her heart sank and she felt herself immediately running towards you, calling out your name so you would give her some sort of response. Anything. Your eyes were shut, your clothes ripped and dirty, a nasty cut on your lip.

“Hey, I'm here.” Emily brushed your messy strands away from your face, her eyes analysing the number of injuries you had. Megan was still provoking her by the time the team came in through the door, groaning as they pulled her up forcefully. You looked away at her bleeding leg, earning a sound of mocking pity from her.

"You feel sorry for me, pretty thing?"

Emily turned back to glance at someone and spoke with an icy tone that made you inch away a little bit. You weren't scared of her, never. But anything caused you to flinch and god did you need to lie down and sleep, just sleep. "Get her the fuck away from here right now."

Your name was called repeatedly and you didn't understand why if you were right there. Until you understood the reason why everything was so dark and the last thing you felt was somebody holding your head before you collapsed.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❝ the scandal was contained

the bullet had just grazed

at all costs, keep your good name

you didn't get to tell me you feel bad. ❞

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Em.”

You asked, leaning against the wall. Arms folded across your chest. The living room carried the cold breeze from the night air, which meant that the kitchen window was open.

You know you closed it before going to bed, but the curled-up body on the couch told you who was responsible for opening the window.

“Baby,” you whispered, brushing her dark strands away from her face. “Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

She cracked one eye open, which made you sniffle a laugh. Then, she fluttered both of her eyes open, taking your hand that was caressing her cheek to intertwine with hers.

“I'm not sleeping.”

You raised a brow.

The corner of her lips twitched, “I can't fall asleep and I didn't want to bother you so I came down here.”

You shook your head, leaning down to kiss her forehead before standing up to close the kitchen window and then coming back.

"I told you." You perched on the edge of the sofa and she silently gave you space to come closer. You pulled your knees to your chest and squeezed next to her. Emily chuckled into your neck, wrapping her arms around your middle. "...to tell me when you couldn't sleep. I don't want you to be alone." You let out a sigh when she stayed quiet. "Em, you gotta talk to me."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❝ is it a wonder I broke? ❞

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I scared you."

With furrowed brows to express your confusion, you grab her hand to pull it to your chest.

"What do you mean?"

"When I found you..."

You quickly turned around to face her. "Emily-"

"You were already scared and I made it worse. It-it wasn't my intention, but the only thing I could think of was finding you to bring you to safety, which is something that I failed to do before."

"No, Emily. You didn't fail," you said softly. Your heart breaking as a tear traveled down her cheek, "that wasn't your responsibility. You had no way of knowing what she was going to do. None of us did. Em, it wasn't your fault."

She sniffled, shaking her head. "I should have known better."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❝ then say they didn't do it to hurt me. . . but what if they did? ❞

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You cupped her cheeks, forcing her to look at you. Her eyes were misty and you wanted more than anything to make her feel better. She shouldn't be crying because of you, that was the last thing you wanted.

"Listen to me," you said, thumb grazing her jaw until it reached the back of her ear. She leaned into your touch. "I'm right here, that's what matters. What happened wasn't your fault, I do not blame you, you understand that?" You kissed each of her cheeks, tasting the salty tears that were dripping down like rainfall.

You also felt the need to clarify something. "I never saw you like that," you admitted carefully. "You wouldn't listen to me and I was scared that whatever you did would affect you later. I didn't want you to do something you would regret. I wasn’t scared of you, baby."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❝ if you wanted me dead

you should've just said.

nothing makes me feel more alive. ❞

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Emily leaned away from you and you felt as if you had been burned. She sat down, drying her tears with a shake of her head. Then, her voice echoed through the silence in the living room.

"I should have killed her. That's what keeps me up, that's what's affecting me. I should have ended there so she couldn't hurt you anymore."

"Emily." You sighed heavily, your frustration growing. You turned on your back to face the ceiling.

"She almost killed you," Emily said in disbelief. "How can you sleep when she almost-"

"But she didn't, I'm here." And who says I’m sleeping?

"But she almost did!"

"And you wanted me to live with the fact that you would have killed someone for me?" You snapped. "I wouldn't sleep soundly, I would've questioned every decision I've ever made if I had been responsible for that. You're being selfish."

Emily blinked at you, studying your face quietly before diverting her attention back to her hands on her lap. You didn't understand and as selfish as it was for her to say that, you didn't almost lose her, she almost lost you. She would have never forgiven herself if she wasn't able to find you in time or if she couldn't find you at all. Just the thought alone made her stomach churn. It would have killed her.

Emily picked at her nails, "Right."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❝ so I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street

crash the party like a record scratch:

who's afraid of little old me?

you should be. ❞

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before you glanced down at her, gaze filled with sadness. "Can you please just... hold me?"

You didn't understand. But you didn't have to. Emily would do anything to protect you at all costs. She couldn't bear the thought of losing you or letting anyone hurt you. She promised herself that she would never let that happen again. She would make sure of that.

So when you asked for a hug, you were very much aware that she needed it more than you.

Your girlfriend's demeanor shifted to something softer, warmer, something you knew and needed. Not a revenge-seeking person. You didn't want revenge, you wanted to be in Emily's arms and help her get a good night's sleep for once. You wanted her to let you do that.

"I love you." She said in your neck, rubbing a hand across your arm tenderly. "I'm sorry." I'm sorry I didn't find you sooner, I'm sorry you got hurt and I didn't stop it.

"Just hold me." You curled your legs around hers, bringing her body impossibly closer to yours. "I love you too, Em." It was the last thing you said before darkness enveloped you into something calmer and lovely, instead of the awful nightmares from two nights ago. You knew that you were safe in your apartment, with Emily close to you and Sergio creeping around the living room as he noticed his moms’ presence in the living room.

It was the first night since you came back home that Emily was able to sleep without jerking awake frightened, out of breath. The first moment she didn't fear almost losing you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❝ I am what I am cause you trained me

so who's afraid of me?

so who's afraid of little old me?

you should be.❞

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

#emily prentiss one shot #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x reader #reader insert #criminal minds #emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss fic #the taylor swift anthology #requested

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daydreamingqueen1 · 11 months

Text

Puppy eyes

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU! Reader (can be seen as platonic too)

Warnings: none. fluff, spencer being a bit of a germaphobe, no y/n, pretty sure is gn reader too

Summary: Spencer Reid vs puppy, need I say more

Word count: 1.3k

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It's the best day ever.

Your day had started pretty normal to be honest, you would even say it was kind of shitty since you had missed the subway you usually took for your daily commute to the BAU.

But, as wiser people say: Everything happens for a reason.

Because as you are making your way to work, your ears catch the soft sound of a creature whimpering. Trying to find the source, you give a couple tentative steps with your head turning from left to right like you are a hunting hound.

Ironically, behind the decorative bushes that surround the FBI building entrance, you find the origin of the sound.

It's not a hound but it's close enough. It's a puppy.

A beautiful, chocolate spotted puppy.

"Oh my god, sweetie, come here!" you gush automatically, your hand extending gently to reach for the animal currently crying between the bushes and the wall.

The adorable puppy looks up at you a bit hesitant at first, big brown eyes meeting yours. It gives a sniff to the air, checking the scent of your palm from afar, you almost squeal from how cute it looks.

Then it wags its tail.

You make kissy noises to coax him closer, your voice getting two tones higher, "Come here puppy!"

It works because soon enough it walks out of its hiding spot and nuzzles into your palm eagerly, tail wagging from side to side.

You practically lunge to grab the poor thing, "Look at you! You are so cute!"

The puppy doesn't seem to mind your cuteness aggression though, its fluffy body melting on your arms when you scratch behind its long ears, "You're coming home with me."

Best day ever.

But you can't just ignore your responsibilities and walk back home to stay with it, and it wouldn't be sensible to leave such a young puppy alone in your apartment either.

So you do the next most reasonable thing.

Your smile almost takes up your whole face when you walk out of the elevator with the puppy in your arms.

Penelope spots you first, immediately dropping the files on her hands on a random desk to come rushing to you, "Oh my god! Oh my god! It's that a puppy my eyes are seeing?!"

You giggle, pretty much vibrating with joy at this point, "Yes, isn't it the cutest thing ever?"

"Aww, my heart can't deal with this!" she cries, hands fanning herself dramatically.

"Where did you get it?" Prentiss chirps in, hers and almost every other head in the bullpen looking up from their desk to look at you. Well, at the puppy.

You keep walking into the office with Garcia looming all over you, "It was crying outside. This little thing was all alone in the bushes."

A hoard of agents are suddenly surrounding you, eager to get a closer look.

"You'll have to look if it belongs to someone," Morgan says, which makes you instantly pout.

"It doesn't have a collar, idiot," Emily argues quickly, "Such a profiler you are."

"I wanna keep it," you smile brightly, "I think it's a boy."

You turn the puppy onto it's back.

"Yep, definitely a boy," Morgan chuckles, he attempts to pet its head but the creature recoils in your arms, clearly overwhelmed at the amount of people.

Noticing the puppy is a bit scared, you pull back from the crowd, only then you notice a certain agent who remains seated on his desk.

“Don't you want to see it, Spencer?” you ask eagerly.

He shakes his head, his body leaning away slightly, “I can see it from right here, don't worry.”

“Oh, come on Reid, don't tell me you are afraid of dogs,” Derek never loses a chance to tease him.

Spencer gives him a flat look, “I'm not scared of dogs, I’m just aware of the amount of diseases they can transmit to humans.”

You tsk your tongue. “But he's so cute, and it doesn't look like it has rabies or anything,” you look down at the dog while approaching his desk, talking directly at it with a baby voice, “Tell me, do you have rabies, little puppy?”

It just stares blankly at you. Proof enough. “See?”

Spencer, ever the statistics expert, begins his rant, “Well, actually, rabies is not the most common disease dogs can carry, nor the only one. Illnesses that pass between animals and humans are known as zoonotic diseases and a 2007 study based in Finland shows that noroviruses are one of the leading causes of diarrheal diseases among people of all age groups and that these can survive in dogs and be passed along to– Please don't get that thing any closer.”

You chuckle at the panic look Spencer gives you when you reach his side. Truthfully, you aren't going to make him touch the puppy if he's uncomfortable with it, but a little bit of teasing is at the order of the day, “Oh, really? Come on, holding it for a second won't kill you.”

You pull the puppy up next to your face and give him your best puppy eyes, mimicking talking as the puppy, “Please? Am I not cute enough to pet?”

Spencer gives you a long look, “Yes, very cute.”

Forcing down your blush, you extend the puppy to him, “Then pet it.”

He presses his lips in a line, his hands coming up defensively as he rolls backwards on his office chair, “I think I'll pass.”

You chuckle and are about to back off when the puppy squirms in your arms, leaping out from your hands.

The scene unfolds in front of your eyes almost in slow motion. You watch how the pup flies in the air, its short body extended as a superhero.

Spencer catches it, thank god.

“Oh, no,” he squeaks when he realizes what he's done, holding the puppy as if it were about to explode, panickedly starting to name every possible disease, “Pasteurella, Salmonella, Brucella, Yersinia enterocolitica, Leptospira–”

His alarmed ramble gets interrupted by the enthusiastic puppy licking up his cheek.

You freeze for a moment, expecting him to die from a heart attack.

Spencer giggles.

“It's giving me kisses,” his face scrunches up adorably at the onslaught of affection, “It tickles, buddy.”

You can't help the relieved laugh that escapes your lips, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm going to have to wash my face with antibacterial soap though,” he chuckles as he puts the puppy down on his lap, away from further kisses.

Oh, and you've just fucked up so bad because your heart gets squeezed inside your chest at the endering sight of Spencer and the puppy staring at each other.

“You are right, he's cute,” Spencer turns to smile at you, the animal's tail wagging incessantly.

You fucked up good.

“Aww, look at you two,” Penelope says excitedly, “It even looks like you, Reid!”

Your gaze shifts back and forth from your coworker to the creature on his lap. Penelope has a point, you can kind of see the resemblance. The puppy has long ears with soft, brown curls covering them that look similar to Spencer's long hair. The cute, hazel puppy dog eyes go without saying.

Morgan snorts, “Babygirl, you are right, it kind of looks like the kid.”

You pick up the puppy and smile, “Seems like I got myself my own mini Doctor Reid,”

Spencer is about to say something back when Hotch’s office opens, both him and Rossi entering the bullpen.

“Agent, please tell me that's not a dog you have there.” Hotch gives you a stern look.

“It is not, sir,” you answer, smiling apologetically and holding the puppy closer against your chest.

He sighs, shaking his head. “Everyone to the meeting room, we've got a case.”

The puppy lets out a tiny bark, and you make your way to the meeting room before Hotch can tell you anything else.

Spencer sits next to you on the round table and whispers against your ear as everyone is filling in, “I'll help you take care of little Doc here if you decide to keep him.”

Not even the gruesome details of the case are enough to sour your mood.

Best day ever.

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yep, this was inspired by all of the MGG pictures with puppies. I am weak.

leave me a prompt if you want!

reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

hope ya liked it, byebye

My masterlist

#spencerreid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #criminal minds #bau team #derek morgan #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #david rossi #drabble #spencer reid blurb

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emilyprentissluvr · 6 months

Text

TV (Emily Prentiss x Reader)

"What about the plans we made?"

Summary: In which you're grieving your dead wife. But is she actually dead?

Warning: Angst and mentions of death.

YOU WALKED along the cobblestone path, stepping over the cracks you had come to memorize. The sun was shining while the birds were chirping and you wanted nothing more than to shoot those damn birds and rip the sun from the sky.

It wasn't fair that beauty could exist when the love of your life didn't.

"Hi Em." You smiled sadly as you sat down across from your wife's grave.

It had been eight months since you'd gotten the call that your wife was dead.

243 days of existing without your other half.

34,9920 minutes of wondering why you had to fall in love with the most selfless, heroic, and caring person to walk this earth.

20,995,200 seconds of missing the only person who made everywhere feel like home.

"I brought you flowers," You said as you put the fresh pair of roses against her gravestone. "The worker at the flower shop said that I must have the happiest partner alive since I buy bouquets so much. How ironic is that?" You chuckled sadly. Not because you found it funny, but because you knew Emily would have.

'That wouldn't happen if you would stop buying me flowers' Is what Emily would have said.

"I never understood why you didn't like flowers," You said as you picked at the grass beneath you. "And you don't get a choice now. You broke our promise." You frowned as you threw the small pieces of grass at her grave.

"You need to let that go, my love' Emily would say.

"I was supposed to go first! That was the deal! But you broke our promise so I can do whatever I want. So if I want to fill your whole damn grave up with flowers then I will." You said indignantly. You knew you probably looked crazy to onlookers. Having a one-sided argument with a grave probably wasn't the best way of coping. Making up your dead wife's side of the conversation probably wasn't the healthiest either, but you didn't care. You didn't care about a lot of things these days.

'You are so stubborn sometimes' Emily would have said with a teasing smile.

"We're both stubborn," You said with a small eye roll. "I mean, we wouldn't be in this position if you weren't." Tears start to form at the corner of your eyes. You didn't think it was humanly possible to cry as much as you had over the last eight months. But here you were, the never-ending tears making their way down your cheeks.

'I'm so sorry sweetheart. I never meant to hurt you' Emily would have said as she consoled you. She would have scooped you up into her arms and tucked your head into the crevice of her neck where it would fit perfectly.

"It's not your fault. None of this is." You sniffled as you reached out and placed your palm against the cold stone of her grave. "It's just not fair! We were supposed to have a lifetime together. We had so many plans."

'I know my love. But just because I'm not here doesn't mean you can't live your life to the fullest' Emily would have smiled, ever the optimist. That had been a surprise when you first met over five years ago. While she may have been a badass, stone-cold agent on the outside, she was nothing but sunshine and warmth on the inside. Of course, you were the only one who got to see her soft interior but you didn't mind, you loved having a part of Emily just to yourself. But now you didn't have any part of Emily.

"I don't know how to move on without you, Em. How am I supposed to enjoy life when you're not next to me enjoying it too? How can I love anything when half of my heart is buried with you?" You cried, tears still flowing down your cheeks as you leaned your forehead against her grave. You cried until the birds stopped chirping and the sun went down. You mourned the woman Emily never got to grow into. You grieved the life you and Emily never got to live.

You didn't know how long you'd been there, but after your tears subsided you decided to head home for the night.

"Bye, Em. I love you." You murmured as you traced her name in the stone before standing up and walking along the cobblestone path once again.

The drive home was quiet. The radio was playing Emily's favorite station but you weren't paying attention. Maybe that was why you didn't notice the car in your driveway until you parked. You furrowed your brows as you recognized the black SUV, those were the ones Emily drove whenever she was on the job.

It wasn't unusual for a black SUV to be in your driveway. Emily's team would come to visit you at least once a week. You didn't know if it was because they felt guilty for her death or if they wanted to be close to the closest thing to Emily. You didn't mind it though, it was nice to have company to break up the silence of your house.

However, you knew the team was on a case. Penelope had called and told you that. So you cautiously walked up to your front porch. You shakily grabbed the keys from your purse and unlocked the door. "Hello?" You called as you walked to the living room where you saw a light on.

As soon as you walked in you froze. The purse in your hand drops to the floor. It was a ghost. The ghost of your Emily standing right in front of you. You closed your eyes wondering how your tired brain could conjure up such a perfect image of her. But when you opened them again she was still standing there.

"Y/n?" Emily's voice cracked as she laid eyes on you for the first time in eight months.

Your brain felt foggy and you couldn't find the flashlight to see through it. Were you hallucinating now?

Emily could see the shock on your face and the way her presence hadn't registered in your mind. "It's me," The brunette said, wanting nothing more than to wrap her arms around you and never let you go, but she knew she had to be careful. "It's Emily," She said as she walked toward your frozen frame slowly.

She was close enough now that you could feel her breath but you didn't dare to look anywhere but into her eyes. The same eyes that had watched you laugh, cry, and love. The same eyes you had spent years memorizing...

Oh my god. Was this real? Was this your Emily and not a figment of your grieving imagination?

Almost as if reading your mind she smiled, "I'm real, my love", she raised her hand slowly and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. You let out a shallow breath as you felt her touch and suddenly the fog from your brain had been cleared. This was real. The woman in front of you was your life, your love, your Emily.

You launched yourself at her knowing she would catch you. You were immediately wrapped into her embrace, feeling at home for the first time since you had gotten that soul-crushing phone call.

Nothing else mattered to you at this moment. All your questions and confusion could be answered later. Right now you were in your wife's arms and you never planned on leaving

"Emily." You smiled tearily as you tucked your face under her chin, the smell of perfume filling your senses. "Hi, sweetheart." Emily smiled as tears fell down her face, "I told you I would never break a promise."

#emily prentiss #criminal minds #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n

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elizabethsnuts · 5 days

Note

hii! regarding your toddler requests, could you maybe write Emily Prentiss teaching her daughter how to walk? 🥹

Baby Steps

Emily Prentiss x Daughter!Reader

Summary: Emily had been trying to teach you how to walk, even if you much preferred to crawl.

———

You weren’t exactly the most eager to walk, you preferred to scurry around on your tiny hands and knees. Though Emily was always trying to get you to walk, holding up your favourite toys, snacks, anything she could think of she tried.

“Come on N/N, come to Mama! Come on! Walk to Mama!” Emily cooed to you as she crouched with her arms out, standing a few feet away.

You stared at Emily and giggled, falling from your standing position to your hands and knees. You quickly crawled over to Emily with a big smile on your cute little face.

Emily let out a lighthearted groan, smiling. She picked you up under your arms and kissed your cheek. “No! Y/N you’re supposed to walk, not crawl! You’re so silly!”

You just giggled and cuddled Emily, waving around your blankie. You just didn’t want to walk, why try and balance on your two tiny wobbly legs when you could just go so much faster crawling?

“Are you going to walk at all? Ever? I bet you find this funny, so funny watching Mama try to get you to walk.” Emily smirked and stood you up on your feet.

“Mama.” You clapped your hands and smiled, looking up at Emily.

Emily just chuckled and set you down. “Yes, yes, yes. I guess you’ll walk when you want to, or maybe you can and just enjoy watching me struggle.”

———

A couple of days later, JJ and Henry came over, you love playing with Henry and seeing your aunty JJ. Emily and JJ were in the kitchen, just talking and keeping an eye on you and Henry who were in the living room.

“How old was Henry when he started walking?” Emily looked at JJ curiously, taking a sip of her coffee.

“I think he was 12 or 13 months? He was an eager walker.” JJ smiled and leaned against the counter.

Emily sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Y/N still isn’t walking yet! I’m getting worried, I just don’t want her to fall behind.”

JJ gave Emily a sympathetic smile. “Don’t stress about it, Em. She’ll walk when she’s ready, most babies start walking between 12-15 months. She’s fine, some babies just like crawling anyway.” JJ chuckled.

Emily gave her best friend a small smile and chuckled. “I guess so, I do hope she starts walking soon though, even if that means extra baby-proofing.”

You quickly came crawling into the kitchen, giggling loudly. Emily laughed and picked you up, setting you on her hip. “Speak of the devil! What are you up to, little miss? Walking any time soon?”

You just grinned and giggled, patting Emily’s cheek. You gave JJ a wave and blew her a kiss. Henry came into the kitchen as well with his toy truck, waving it around.

Emily and JJ’s phone suddenly rang in their pockets, making them groan a little knowing it was probably another case. Emily sighed and pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I’ll call Elle, see if she can watch them.”

JJ nodded and picked up Henry. “That’d be good, I would call Will but he’s at work.” JJ turned to Henry and smiled. “You want to stay with Aunty Elle and Y/N?”

Elle eventually arrived, JJ and Emily grabbing their go bags and getting ready to say goodbye. Emily came over to you and kissed your cheek, hugging you. “Bye-bye, sweet girl. Mama will be home soon, I love you so much.”

You watched Emily start to walk away, you let out a cry and reached your tiny hand out to Emily. “Mama!”

Emily sighed and gave you another wave goodbye, still walking towards the front door. “I know, sweetheart, but Mama has to go. You’ll have fun with Aunty Elle!”

You kept crying, grabbing the side of the couch to pull yourself up to stand. You took your first shaky and wobbly steps over to Emily, reaching your tiny arms out. “Mama!”

Emily gasped and dropped her go-bag, holding her arms out to catch you. “Y/N, baby, you’re walking! You’re walking! Come to Mama!”

“Mama!” You sniffled and kept taking tiny steps over to Emily, stumbling slightly.

Emily caught you and lifted you into her arms, hugging you tightly. “Oh, Y/N! You did it! You did it, gorgeous girl! You’re walking! Good girl, you’re so smart, you did it! You finally walked for Mama!”

You hugged Emily tightly, you didn’t care about the milestone you had just achieved, you didn’t want your mama to leave. “Mama.”

Emily nodded and kissed your cheek, stroking your hair. “I know baby, Mama will just stay for a little bit longer. I love you so much.”

Even if it meant Emily was late, she would still rather stay with you. Even if you drove her crazy sometimes, you were still her little girl who had just taken your first steps.

#daughter!reader #emily prentiss x daughter!reader #emily prentiss x toddler!reader #criminal minds emily prentiss #emily prentiss #criminal minds #toddler!reader #child!reader #emily prentiss x child!reader #fluff #criminal minds fluff

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oneshotnewbie · 1 year

Note

Hello! I hope you're well :)

Would you so kindly be able to do an Emily Prentiss x victim child!reader where reader is kind of young, maybe like between 6-10 and they've been held captive by the UnSub for weeks now and when the team finally finds the location, reader has gone mute and very cautious/scared of everyone and only allows (to an extent) Emily near them? Since she's the one who first finds them? Emily is very patient and comforts reader even if they don't speak and such. But reader eventually becomes comfortable enough to speak again, using short sentences and few words with Emily (maybe even some other team members, too).

Emily could possibly take them in but that part can be up to you!

I can't wait to see more of your work btw, you're so good!! Thx! Xoxo 💘

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the topics of abuse, trauma, child neglecting, punishments and the plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

Authors note: I have tried my best to accommodate this request. I have to say that I changed the request a little because I didn't want to write a 6 year old child being kidnapped by a stranger, so I just had to do it with the father who has a criminal record. I also had to shorten it and basically skip a period of time in order to fulfill the second part of the request. I hope it is still okay. Also had to split it into two parts, Tumblr wouldn't let me post it all at once ♥

ᕚ---ᕘ

Walls. Excessive tightness.

You did not know how long you had been in that closet, and you did not want to know either. Far too exhausted from all the panic attacks and the walls threatening to crush you. Your stomach was growling like it had been ever since your father decided to punish you for everything you did.

Your hands were shaking, your eyes were glassy, but you were long past crying. That only made things worse. Your father knew no mercy, and certainly not for his scared and crying little daughter.

Sometimes you imagined what it would be like if you actually suffocated in that closet. Better to suffocate from the reducing air than to be suffocated by your own father. You would not grow old, you would not reach the age of 10. You were sure of that. You were convinced that something would happen to you before your next birthday. But so far you had gotten older every year and every birthday you were sure that it would be your last.

Your father would not let you sleep in your bed anymore, but at least today it was in the closet and not in the gazebo that you had to sleep in. It was late autumn and in the arbor, the roof of which had tiny holes, there was a risk of hypothermia and finally freezing to death. Your hand, which was squeezed between the closet door and your thigh, had now fallen asleep and despite your constant shaking, you felt immensely hot. You noticed your face starting to glow again- you had a fever from the cold that blew through the room at night. You carefully pulled your hand out from under your leg, hitting your head on one of the wooden insert panels of the shelves, causing a dull thud as it came loose and fell onto your body.

Your heart skipped a beat before stopping briefly, you squinted for a moment, hoping that the noise had gone unnoticed and that your father had disappeared from his guarding position in front of the closet and was downstairs in front of the TV. But then you heard footsteps, quiet and muffled through the ajar door and the wood that surrounded you. It sounded nothing like your father and his firm, jagged steps and you begged that you had not misheard and were now in for a lot of trouble.

The door creaked and your breathing became increasingly quicker. You did not mishear. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to calm yourself and prepare yourself for what was to come. If your father saw you so upset, he might keep you here longer or deny you food for the next few days.

The key turned in the lock that locked the two doors together and you heard them slowly open, but did not dare to look outside. The fear of provoking your father when you greedily gasped for fresh air and light was too great. You felt a slight breeze on your bare shoulders and cheeks. Still, you kept your eyes closed, hoping to avoid your fate.

Instead of your father's disapproving shouts and rough hands that would normally drag you out of the closet, there was only a careful, barely noticeable touch on your shoulder. When you raised your eyes, you saw a strange woman with black hair. "Hey, sweetie. I am from the police, you are safe now," the older woman's eyes were glassy. She seemed unsettled, as if she was afraid of breaking you with one wrong move, as if you were made of delicate mass. "You can come out now, your father can not hurt you anymore."

You nodded and a few moments later she had pulled you out of the closet, carefully and slowly so as not to hurt you, and immediately drawn you into her arms. You just let it happen, completely unable to understand that this was a foreign woman you were clinging to.

Your father had forbidden you from speaking to strangers and your fear of upsetting your dad was huge. But something about her voice made you give in. "I am Emily. What is your name?" she asked and rubbed your back soothingly, your courage to speak failing you. When the rest of her team stormed into the room a moment later and looked down at you in front of the open door, you panicked and shook yourself away from her before returning to the closet where you felt safe.

A hand signal directed to Derek and Hotch, they disappeared silently from the bare room with the remaining SWAT workers and left her alone with you. It took some time for you to gain confidence and crawl out of the wooden wardrobe again. The young woman had talked her head off with various topics in order to give you a feeling of reassurance.

You followed Emily's hand movements carefully, and at the sight of the little package of gummy bears, your mouth watered and your stomach began to make itself known. "Someone is really hungry!" She whispered and smiled softly before opening the small package and holding it out to you.

You carefully sat up, occasionally glancing at the door so that you could move back into the closet as quickly as possible in case of an emergency. But nothing happened. The black-haired woman pointed uncertainly but grinning at the package. "The green ones are my favorite. And what are yours?" you rummaged through the tiny package with your fingers until you held a red gummy bear between your fingers and showed it to her. "The red ones? Uhh, they are yummy!"

You jumped away while the first bite, she had raised her hand too quickly. She shook her head, swallowing hard. Emily had not thought for a split second. “Can I feel your forehead?”she asked after a short hesitation and you nodded, afraid of upsetting her like your father, granting her permission.

She gently placed her hand on your sweat-covered forehead. You were feverish. She slowly lowered her hand carefully again and watched you as you hesitantly gnawed on a gummy bear. Your father did not like it when you just wolfed down your food and often had taken it away when fell into a deep hunger.

Emily continued to watch you, her eyes sad and exhausted. You cocked your head, wondering if you had done something wrong. When your eyes met for a moment, you hesitantly reached for her free hand and placed her favorite gummy bear in her palm.

You found a kind of care and hope in her presence. Hope that you can still lead a normal life and never be locked in the closet by your father again. Emily caught the very first smile you gave her before you stood up and carefully fell into her arms. "Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?" she giggled softly, her heart swelling and beginning to pound wildly.

"No,"

Surprisingly, she widened her eyes while keeping her mouth wide open. After hours spent in this cold room with only forensics downstairs doing their work, she had finally managed to hear your gentle and childlike voice.

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jjtheresidentbaby · 2 years

Note

yk how reid is heavily autistic coded? (might be canon i cant remember) maybe little reader having a meltdown and/or sensory issues and spencer understanding and helping them?

Too Much | Spencer Reid x Reader

a/n: I am not officially diagnosed with autism so if I’ve gotten anything incorrect please let me know and I’ll immediately fix it. this also got so much less agere then I intended it to be

warnings: sensory overload, anxiety, stimming, reader going non-verbal, crying, mentions of Reid & reader being autistic

───°˖✧✿✧˖° ───

It was too much, everything was too much. There’s the buzzing of the board Garcias presenting on, the click of the clock on the wall, Emily tapping her pen relentlessly against the round table, Rossi keeps looking at you and you don’t know why- everything is too much.

“Y/n?” You startle at Reid’s soft voice from your left, his expression just as gentle as his voice.

“Y- yeah?” You mange but just barely, talking feels like so much work and especially with your little space clawing at your mind.

“You okay?” You huff at Spencers concern, why would he think you’re not okay? Even if you feel like running out of this room, you have to be okay, you have to stay calm and organized at work, it’s the rules.

The rules you have made up for yourself as you’ve seen how your team can lose it a little bit, how they’re so open to be who they are around one another, but that’s not you. You are collected and treated with respect, not someone that freaks out over Emily’s pen hitting the table over, and over, and over and-

“Please stop doing that!” You shout, tears springing to your eyes when you realize that you just yelled at Prentiss. Her face is one of shock as she drops her pen quickly against the table, you clasp a hand over your mouth in horror, you can’t believe you just yelled at Emily, one of your best friends.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so upset- I’m sorry, it’s just- I um- I can’t- it’s-.” You give up on trying to explain yourself and instead slide down to the floor.

This is unprofessional, you note, but it’s helping the slightest bit. Helping the buzz of stimulation die down just the smallest possible amount when you start to rock in place, tucking your head into your knees and wrapping your arms around yourself in hopes that none of your harmful stims come out.

“Hey, can you look at me?” Reid appears in front of you, he helps block out some of the light and you can recognize that the team must have left with how little murmurs there are.

“There you are. Feel like you can talk?” You give a hesitant nod, of course you can talk, physically, it just might take all of your energy right now, Spencer seems to understand this as he hums along.

“Okay, you don’t have to. Is it too sensory overloading in here?” A firm nod as yes, yes that’s exactly it, he gets it.

“We can go somewhere quieter if you’d like, I’m sure Em wouldn’t mind giving us her office for a bit.” Oh god Emily’s probably so mad at you, she’s probably writing you up for yelling at coworkers, for having an outburst during the work day, she’s probably-

“Hey don’t do that, everything’s okay and Prentiss totally understands. Trust me, I’ve done worse than yell at her when I was overstimulated.” You cock your head at Reid, you’ve never seen him in a state of overstimulation or ever heard him mention things of the sort.

“I’m autistic, the team knows and I figured it was time you did too.” A weight lifts off your chest, Spencer smiles when the tension drops from your shoulders. You quickly point to yourself, hoping Spencer will understand that you’re also autistic.

“You are too? I gotta tell Garcia, she made me a whole sensory toy basket when I told her, I’m sure she’d do the same for you.” You smile to Spencer, the buzzing isn’t so bad now, there’s no eyes on you that you don’t want there and everything seems to be calming down.

Though your little headspace is coming in strongly, as it does after meltdowns or shutdowns, it gives your body a way to recharge. Work isn’t an ideal location for your regression, pushing it away doesn’t seem to be working either.

“Let’s go to Em’s office.” Spencer must pick up on something shifting in you since he offers his hand up for you to grab, something you know he doesn’t do often, you take it gratefully and let him lead the two of you down to Prentiss’ empty room.

“Now nobody can come bother us.” Spencer smiles over his shoulder, triple checking that the office is locked and it’s just you two.

“Do you need anything? Sometimes Garcia will put a show on her laptop for me when I’m coming down from a meltdown, I can go grab my computer if you want. Or I have a few books in my bag.” He starts to rummage around in his satchel, pulling out four books that have all been throughly read through based off how worn out they are.

“Wanna read one?” Your headspace doesn’t feel nearly big enough to read one of those books, the font is too small, pages filled with so many words that you can’t even pronounce correctly on a good day.

“I’ll read to you.” Reid decides when you just stay silently staring down at the books.

He gets situated in the corner of Emily’s couch quickly, sifting through the books til he finds one he thinks is the best choice, then Spencer opens up an arm for you. It takes a second before you fully comply, you know Reid isn’t huge on physical touch, but he lets you settle into his side.

“Chapter one…” Spencer begins, you lay happily against him, no more anxiety in your chest, all you feel is security in Reid’s arms as you listen to his soft voice.

#jj writes #criminal minds agere #caregiver!spencer #little!reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid #autistic reader #autistic spencer reid

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scarlettjemily · 13 days

Text

Latch

I have a Jemily playlist on spotify and I shuffle it and write a fic inspired by the song

Song: Latch (acoustic version) - Sam Smith (suggested by @pascaleledumbo)

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Jennifer "JJ" Jareau

Summary: Season 17 Emily and JJ finally getting married. This is their wedding day. This fic is just pure happiness, not a single thing goes wrong. It's just all love.

Word count: 2.2k

Posted on Ao3 as well

*Not my pictures*

“You’d think with it being my second wedding, I wouldn’t be so nervous,” JJ laughed, smoothing out her dress with her hands. She looked at herself in the mirror, a rush of excitement hitting her.

"Yes, but your first wedding wasn’t with Emily,” Penelope pointed out, handing JJ her bouquet. “You look so beautiful,” she gushed, looking at her best friend. She had to stop herself from crying; she couldn’t believe Emily and JJ were finally getting married after all these years.

“Hey! Don’t you start! I don’t want to ruin my makeup before I get out there.” JJ turned away from Penelope, waving the girl away.

Penelope took the most dramatic deep breath, trying to compose herself, “I think I’m okay; let’s go. We can’t keep Em waiting,” she said, ushering the bride out of the room so they could get to the wedding.

“Nervous?” Tara asked, handing a glass of whiskey to Emily. She sat down on the arm of the couch, watching as Emily took a quick sip of her drink, then placing it down so she could fix the buttons of her suit.

Emily chuckled, her shoulders shrugging. “A little, but I’m more shocked. I never thought we’d be together, let alone get married.” She picked her drink back up and turned to face Tara. “How do I look?” She asked, giving her a spin.

“You’re an absolute smoke show, Emily; you look amazing.” They both laughed and clinked their glasses together, throwing back the rest of their drinks. “Okay, the car is here; we better head off.”

Penelope held JJ’s hand as they walked up to the entrance of the little garden; she could hear soft piano music playing, which was her cue that the ceremony was about to start. She saw Rossi standing at the entrance; he smiled and held his hand out for her.

JJ felt tears well up in her eyes. “Dave, really? Am I not too old to be walked down the aisle?” She joked, trying to stop herself from getting too emotional. She was already feeling overwhelmed, in the best way possible. She just wanted to see her soon-to-be wife.

He grabbed her hand and linked his arm with hers. “Oh hush, I already walked Emily down 5 minutes ago.”

JJ couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Rossi walking the woman down the aisle. Her usual stoic self, probably struggling to compose herself and to hide how much it meant to her. “How’d she seem?” JJ asked, watching as Penelope walked around the bend of the aisle.

“She was happy, Jennifer, so unbelievably happy." Dave looked at JJ with a warm smile. He lifted her chin with his finger so she was looking at him. “Are you ready?” His smile was so comforting for JJ; he really was like a father to her. To them both.

“I’m so ready,” she beamed, walking arm in arm down the aisle. When she walked around the bend, the first thing she saw were all their friends in their seats. Granted, there weren’t a lot of people, but the most important people were there. It made it more special that way.

As soon as JJ’s eyes locked onto Emily, she felt her throat tighten. She was beautiful. The most beautiful woman she’d ever laid eyes on. There was no stopping the tears that dropped from the corner of her eyes. That was her soulmate.

She was dressed in a completely ivory suit that cinched at her waist perfectly. The wide-legged pants covered a pair of pointy white heels. Her silver hair pinned up loosely, stray curls falling around her face perfectly. It took every ounce of control JJ had to not sprint down the aisle and jump on her fiancée.

Emily had to look away for a moment to collect herself; the pure shock of seeing JJ in a wedding dress stole all the air from her lungs. She looked back and let out a quiet laugh when she saw JJ crying. She knew all too well how emotional JJ could be—a change of pace from her usual lack of emotions. Well, lack of expression, Emily felt a lot; all the time, she just compartmentalised better than most.

JJ looked radiant, walking down the aisle in an ivory dress that matched Emily’s suit perfectly. More proof the women were made for each other; they complemented one another without needing to plan a single thing. Emily’s chest felt warm when she looked at JJ; her blonde hair was loosely curled and falling over her tanned shoulders. Emily could swear that JJ’s skin was glowing under the warmth of the sun; she’d never felt more in love with the woman than she did in that moment.

JJ took the last few steps down the aisle; she gave Rossi a kiss on the cheek, whispering her thanks. She handed her bouquet to Penelope before she turned to look at her fiancée. She laughed as she began to cry again. She couldn’t control the emotions that were spilling out of her; every time she looked at Emily, she just felt so overwhelmed with joy; all she could do was laugh and cry.

Emily reached her hand out, taking a hold of JJ's hand, the other resting on her hip. “My love, you look so beautiful,” she whispered, planting a kiss on her cheek. JJ’s hand rested on Emily’s cheek, shaking her head, her eyes taking in her facial features. Something she’d done a million times before "here,” Emily said, pulling a tissue out of her jacket pocket and handing it to JJ. The small crowd of people laughed at the sight, all of them knowing what JJ was like.

“Thank you,” JJ chuckled, using the tissue to dab her cheeks. “I just can’t believe we’re finally here,” she said, still not believing that they were about to get married. Emily agreed, giving JJ’s hand a firm squeeze, not planning to let go anytime soon.

“They will both now read their vows; who would like to go first?”

The two women had a silent conversation with their eyes, deciding that JJ would start. Penelope handed her a piece of paper that had her vows written on it; she unravelled them, her hands shaking slightly. The paper was covered in her neat and precise handwriting—not a single letter out of place. Emily smiled knowingly; her paper was the complete opposite: covered with scribbles, words crossed out. It represented them perfectly.

“Emily, my Emily." JJ started, glancing at her fiancee for a moment before deciding to keep her eyes on her paper; otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to get through the vows. “I can’t believe I’m standing in front of you right now, at our wedding, about to call you my wife. You started off as my co-worker, then you quickly became a friend. Then all of a sudden you were my boss,” the crowd laughed along with Emily and JJ. “Then you finally became my girlfriend, my fiancee, and now my wife." JJ let out a shaky breath, a small tear rolling down her cheek, but she was able to continue reading through it. “After everything we’ve been through together and separately, I’m so grateful to say that you have been the most consistent thing in my life. No matter what, you were there. Always.” She used her arm to wipe her tears because she refused to let go of Emily’s hand. “You were there for me when I didn’t even know that I needed you, but I think I’ve always needed you, and I’m certain I’ve always loved you. Even if it took me a while to come to terms with it,” a soft chuckle sounded from the crowd. “But now that I’ve got you, I promise you, there’s no way I’ll ever let you go.”

Emily quickly wiped a tear from her eye as JJ finished her vows. She squeezed her hand and gave her a warm smile. “That was beautiful, darling,” she complimented. She pulled her own piece of paper out of her pocket and shook her head. “Not as neat as yours,” she admitted sheepishly. JJ gave Emily an amused look, assuring her it was okay and waiting to hear her vows.

“Jennifer, Jen, JJ, my darling, my love... I can’t keep track of all the names I call you, and I’m sure there will be a million more that I’ll come up with, seeing as you’re stuck with me for the rest of our lives,” she laughed, looking up at JJ. All the people around them seemed to disappear when Emily watched JJ giggle; she stopped for a moment, getting distracted by how beautiful she was. "God, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” she stated, practically dazed.

JJ couldn’t help herself; she planted a kiss on Emily’s cheek. “Thank you, baby,” she whispered. “Keep going,” she encouraged, giddy about what might be on the paper.

Emily let out a quick breath, concentrating on her paper again. “I truly believe I fell in love with you the first day I met you, but I thought you’d never feel the same way. So I decided that I’d have you in any capacity I could, and that was as my best friend. Now that you’re going to be my wife, I promise to always be your best friend first, to always be by your side, loving you and supporting you and annoying you just as much,” she gave JJ a quick wink before continuing. “I’m so grateful you chose me to be your wife. I wake up next to you every day, and I’m still pinching myself because I can’t believe that I get to call you mine." Emily folded the paper back up and returned it to her pocket. “I promise to love you until the day I die, and then in my next life, I promise to find you and love you again and again and again,” she croaked, her cry getting stuck in her throat.

JJ shook her head, crying at Emily’s words. She grabbed Emily’s face, not caring about the traditions of the wedding, and kissed her deeply. Emily’s hands landed on JJ’s hips as she kissed her back; there was no way she would pull away. She also didn’t care about traditions; her and JJ were by no means a traditional couple.

“Well then, you both may keep kissing the bride!”

The crowd erupted with loud cheers and continuous clapping. Both women laughed into their shared kiss, pulling each other closer, not wanting the moment to end.

“After you, my wife,” Emily held JJ's hand as she stepped into the car; she didn’t let go as she slid in the back seat next to her wife. “Thank you,” she aimed at the driver as he began to drive off.

JJ scooted closer to Emily, wrapping her arms around the woman as best she could. “I love you,” she hummed, smiling contentedly when Emily wrapped one arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. Emily mumbled the sentiment back, placing a series of small kisses on JJ’s forehead. “Did you have a good day?” She asked, pulling back slightly so she could look at her wife’s face.

Emily placed her finger under JJ’s chin, running the pad of her thumb across her bottom lip. “It was better than good, baby; it’s been the best day of my life,” she whispered. Her heart swelled seeing JJ’s face beam; she captured JJ’s lips in a kiss, still holding her chin. “I can’t wait to get you to the hotel,” she mumbled against her lips, clumsily kissing her at the same time.

JJ swore her body shivered at the thought of getting back to their hotel. She gave her wife one last squeeze before pulling away. “We’ve got to stop; otherwise, I won’t be able to control myself in the back of this car,” she stated under her breath, only for Emily to hear.

Emily smirked, holding JJ close to herself, letting her chin rest atop her wife’s head. "Soon, my love, we’ll be there soon,” she reassured, letting her hand rest on JJ's thigh.

JJ squealed when Emily lifted her in her arms in the traditional bridal carry. “Emily! Don’t drop me!” She laughed, holding her tightly around her neck.

Emily stepped through the door of their room and swiftly kicked it shut behind her. “I would never, baby girl; I’ve got you.” She headed down the hall into the room, aiming straight for the bed. She threw JJ onto it, chuckling at JJ’s overly dramatic squeals. Emily kicked her heels off and walked to the edge of the bed, simultaneously unbuttoning her suit jacket.

JJ giggled, hopping up on her knees and crawling over to Emily. “Let me,” she purred, pulling Emily’s jacket down her arms and throwing it to the floor. She frantically kissed her while making quick work of her blouse; she moaned deeply when Emily’s hands made their way into her hair. Pulling it tightly into a makeshift ponytail, “I love you,” she groaned as Emily pulled her hair back, beginning to kiss down JJ's neck.

“I love you too, my darling,” Emily declared against JJ's skin, her hand snaking around her back to unzip her dress. “I can’t believe you’re my wife,” she divulged, watching as JJ's dress pooled around her knees, leaving her in just her underwear. “You’re all mine,” she professed, wrapping her arms around JJ's bare waist.

JJ wrapped her arms around Emily’s neck, pressing their foreheads together. “I’m yours, Emily, forever,” she beamed, both women still basking in the shock that they each finally got to marry their best friend.

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