#Emily Prentiss drabble

[criminally-chill]

Accidental date

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader

Category: Fluff

———————————

Emily Prentiss sat at a quiet corner table in a cozy, candle-lit restaurant, her nerves humming with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. Blind dates were rare territory, but Garcia had been insistent. “Trust me, Em,” she’d said, “you need this!”

She looked up just in time to see a woman approaching her table. With warm eyes, an easy smile, and a relaxed confidence, she gave Emily a smile that immediately put her at ease.

“Hi,” the woman greeted with a friendly nod. “I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Emily replied with a smile as they settled in. The conversation flowed with surprising ease. Y/N turned out to be a doctor, and her hospital stories ranged from hilarious to deeply moving, each one told with warmth and a hint of humor that kept Emily smiling.

At one point, after Y/N finished a story about a hospital mix-up, Emily chuckled, shaking her head. “This is exactly what I needed tonight. Leave it to Garcia to set me up with someone so interesting.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued. “Garcia?”

Emily grinned. “Yeah, my friend. She practically dragged me here, swearing I’d have a great time.”

Y/N let out a laugh. “That’s funny. My friend Dr. Robins convinced me to come. She said I needed a break and knew someone I’d hit it off with.”

They both paused, exchanging a surprised look as the realization dawned on them.

“So… you’re not here because of Garcia?” Emily asked, a smirk tugging at her lips.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Nope. And you’re definitely not here because of Dr. Robins, right?”

They both burst into laughter, the unexpected mix-up somehow making the night even more enjoyable. They leaned in a little closer as they continued talking, each exchange revealing a deeper connection and a natural chemistry between them.

By the time they left the restaurant, the night air had turned chilly, and a brisk wind swept down the empty street. Emily shivered slightly, folding her arms.

Without a second thought, Y/N shrugged off her jacket and held it out to Emily. “Here, take this. Can’t let you freeze after such a good accidental date.”

Emily hesitated for a moment before smiling gratefully and slipping it on. “Thank you. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun on a first… well, not-quite-a-date.”

Y/N chuckled. “Accidental or not, it was definitely one of the better nights I’ve had. And since it’s my fault for keeping you out this late, at least let me walk you home.”

They walked side by side through the quiet streets, shoulders brushing occasionally. As they talked and laughed, the atmosphere between them felt lighter, like they’d known each other much longer than just one evening.

When they reached Emily’s apartment, she paused at her door, turning to Y/N with a warm smile. “So… accidental date or not, I’d love to do this again. On purpose next time.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, her smile widening. “I’d like that,” she murmured, holding Emily’s gaze.

As the night stretched in silence, neither seemed in a rush to say goodbye. Y/N gently squeezed Emily’s hand, and Emily gave it a light squeeze in return, a warm feeling blooming in her chest.

“Goodnight, Emily,” Y/N said softly, a smile lingering on her lips as she turned to leave.

Emily watched her go, still wrapped in Y/N’s jacket, already looking forward to the next time they’d see each other — a date they would plan very much on purpose.

[emilys-bangs]

the end of beginning | e.p

Tags: bau!reader, fluff, no use of yn, s2 baby emily, a whole lotta yearning

Summary: In which Emily is new to the team and finds a friend in you. Requested here.

Word count: 1.2k

Emily has always felt out of place. 

In high school, in her mother’s lavish gatherings, in the sprawling estate that she’d eventually learned to call home. It’s never something she can help, though with gritted teeth she developed the art of blending in with fake smiles and perfectly crafted words. It’s a habit that stuck with her, one she’s never quite learned how to shake off even after all these years.

So it makes sense that she doesn’t fit in at her new job.

It works just fine with her. Emily has had a lifetime to get used to it; isolation had become her friend, the liquid movement of her following shadow more than often her only, constant, companion. Despite that, she had a small, lingering hope. That maybe coming back to DC would mean making herself a home, finding—if not friends—companions that she could be casual with, invite out for a round of drinks when the thick silence of her apartment was too much.

Hope was quickly snuffed out. Her boss only thinly veils his distrust, and the youngest—Reid—stares at her with accusing eyes. The rest of her coworkers are lukewarm, not quite yet interested in getting to know her; their gazes are more often than not tinged with condescension, as if they’re not sure she’s earned her place. It seems like everyone’s waiting for her to slip up, for Hotch to chew her out and pluck her from the neatly rounded group they’ve found themselves being, a well oiled machine that works perfectly in order without her.

Everyone, apparently, except you.

You and Garcia, that is, but the tech analyst’s influence is a lot less reassuring given that it’s behind phone calls and computer screens most of the time. But with you there with her—in the field, at your joint desks in the bullpen—things are more bearable. 

“Hey.” 

You’re whispering slightly as you slip into the vacant seat in front of her, fingers wrapped around a steaming mug.

Emily looks up at you. The dimmed lights of the jet reflect in your eyes, painting you in softer edges as you sit down across from her without waiting for an invitation. There’s an easiness to your movements, one that she would say is out of place considering how long you’ve known her. Still, warmth spreads to her icy fingertips, and she can’t help the small smile that pulls at her lips.

“Hi,” she says back, matching your tone. Other than the hum of the jet itself—and the rumble of distant snores she’s too far away to be bothered by—a soothing silence has settled across the cabin, and her voice doesn’t carry much farther than your seat. The smile that you return is friendly, a sight that she’s been slowly getting accustomed to these past few weeks.

She’s a little surprised when you don’t offer anything more to say. You simply lean back in your seat and take a sip from your mug, her eyes tracing the bop of your throat as you swallow and look down at the sudoku in your hand. Emily’s finger is still slotted inside her book; she’d automatically marked the page and shut the cover closed when you appeared, some subconscious mechanism turning in her head so that you get her full attention.

The revelation that you might simply want her company comes too late. 

You’re looking back up at her, your eyes meeting hers as a slow warmth runs beneath her icy skin. Emily should look back down; she has nothing to say, other than the blunt but genuine question of why are you here, but you give a small shrug and she’s enraptured, tracing the sheepish line of your pressed lips.

“Gideon’s snores get a little loud.” You say.

Emily’s surprised to hear her own laugh. It seems you are, too. A small movement draws your brows upward, but the curve of your mouth is distinctly pleased, your eyes brightening beneath the dim lights of the jet. The sound doesn’t last long—it’s low, soft, joined by your own laugh for a few brief seconds—but its effect carries tension from Emily’s shoulders, makes her slip her finger out of her book with a genuine smile.

“That they do,” she murmurs back, already familiar with the loud rumbles that have made their way through thin motel walls, occasionally piercing her already irregular sleep. The sleeves of her cardigan are pulled over her knuckles; she tugs them higher, seeking to cover the ice in her fingertips. 

“Are you cold?”

Maybe she is. Maybe the sound of your voice spills warmth down her veins. Emily doesn’t like admitting things, but her smile gives her away. It borders on shy, barely wide enough for her dimples to curve in her cheeks; she wishes she had a mug of her own to hide behind, but she has an inkling that hiding from you would be pointless.

In the end she shrugs.

You set your mug and sudoku down. “I’ll be right back.” 

She’s left staring at your empty seat, brows furrowing slightly as goosebumps break out on her skin. The jet really is ridiculously cold. And yet when you come back less than a minute later holding out a fuzzy blanket for her to take, she shakes her head.

“Oh, I can’t—”

“Please,” you insist. “I remember I forgot to layer up the first few times on here and I was miserable. Makes you stiff,” your lips twist into a smile, and you’re looking at her so earnestly that she submits.

“It does,” Emily says, this time accepting the blanket. You beam at her and she goes warm, though it has nothing to do with the fuzzy, light gray wool now draping over her lap. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Emily places her book on the table before effectively burying herself in your blanket. It’s warm and soft; when she brings it up over her shoulders, a faint scent of perfume nuzzles against her nose. Yours. In seconds, her hands grow warm. She chances a glance at you, a thank you almost tipping from her lips again—just to continue the conversation, hear your voice, when you do it for her.

“What does that say?” You’re peering at the worn cover of her book. The edges are curled, the spine broken. The margins are full of her loopy scrawl and unsteady underlines, more than a few pages dog eared.

Emily bites back a smile at the curious draw of your brows. “Les Liaisons Dangereuses.” The French slips effortlessly from her lips, smooth and curling. “The Dangerous Liaisons. It’s a French classic, one of my favorites. I could tell you about it,” her hand peeks out from the edge of the blanket and she fidgets with her hair, tucks it behind her ear, “if you’d like.”

You lean your elbows on the table, sudoku very much ignored as you peer at her with something like astonishment. A grin pulls at your lips and she’s suddenly overheating.

“I very much would, Agent Prentiss.”

“Emily.” 

“Emily.” You agree, tilting your head in a nod. “Tell me about Les Liaisons Dangereuses.” You butcher the title beyond belief. The displeased wrinkle of your nose says you know it, and butterflies erupt along Emily’s lungs.

She laughs, the beginnings of a blush staining her cheeks.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu@ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi @temilyrights @moonlight-simp 

[stayevildarling]

Emily Prentiss x Reader- Full of surprises

A/N: based on this request- enjoy

tags/tw: female reader, g!p emily prentiss, breeding kink, corruption kink, praise kink

word count: 3.1k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahs , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples

The BAU office was unusually silent at this time of the night, the only sounds to be heard, the soft sound of rain as it drizzles against the windows as well as the occasional phone call or the sound of the printer coming from afar. You find yourself sitting in the meeting room, the lights dim and scattered files everywhere. The rest of the team had long gone home but something about the current case didn‘t sit right with you, causing you to read through files for hours and doing your research. You sit across Emily Prentiss, who refused to go home, having the same lingering feeling about the case, or at least you had thought so.

The two of you had always had an undeniable tension between each other, barely enough for others to notice as professionalism was important to the two of you, caring about your careers. But you cared about each other more, lingering glances, the occasional hand on each other‘s shoulder or thigh to comfort the other and the unconditional having each other‘s back, no matter what that meant out there while fighting crimes and unsubs. As you continue burrying yourself in your work, you catch her gaze on you, her dark eyes following your every move and causing your pulse to quicken. There had always been something about the woman with dark hair that made your pulse quicken, especially when those brown eyes looked at you the way she was now. The way she carried herself, her confidence had always made you a little weak, your stomach fluttering when you know it shouldn‘t be.

Despite trying your best to focus on the files, wanting so desperately to find whatever was causing you to stay in the office past 2 am, you can‘t focus with her eyes on you like that, causing you to sigh, ever so quietly. As you glance up again, your heart stops in your chest as you watch her looking at you intently, a small playful smile tugged on her lips. It had taken Emily a long time to figure out why you had been behaving so strange lately, possibly a little push from Garcia leading her in the right direction but after tonight she had no doubts. The case was exhausting yes but when she saw you chasing one of the subjects who had been disrespectful towards the woman moments before, watching how you held him against a wall before arresting him, making him apologize to Emily and your fist possibly having landed on him moments before, she finally understood and there was no holding back her own feelings and desires anymore.

„You‘re awfully quiet tonight“ she teases as she leans back in her chair. „Just tired I guess“ you force a smile, though your heart races under her intense gaze. „Or maybe you are just distracted hm?“ she wonders, her tone suggestive as she moves even closer to you. „Maybe“ you mumble „It‘s been a long week“ you sigh, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks due to her intense gaze.

Emily tilts her head, her expression softening before her voice adjusts a little „I know what you mean“ she reassures. „But sometimes it helps to take a break, you know“ she explains, pausing as she lets her eyes wander to you again, the tension slowly thickening even further. „Tell me Y/N, what do you do to unwind?“ she asks, her voice curious but filled with something else that you can‘t quite place yet. „I don‘t know, I guess I binge watch shows or read“ you mumble as you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

Her lips curl into a smile as she listens to you talk before she speaks again „Reading can be nice“ she acknowledges. „But I think you need something a little more exciting to take your mind off things“ she teases, causing your eyebrows to furrow at the hint of mischief in her tone and you find yourself captivated yet again by her confidence. „Exciting how?“ you ask, unable to resist the temptation to ignore this and focus on your work ahead. Before the woman replies, she stands from her chair, circling the table before she halts behind you, her hands reaching your shoulders and simply staying there.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sudden contact and you begin trembling ever so slightly which doesn‘t go unnoticed by the woman. „You would be surprised what you enjoy Y/N.. if you simply stepped out of your comfort zone“ she whispers, her fingers beginning to softly massage your shoulders, slowly ridding the tension and causing you to close your eyes. „Sometimes it‘s nice to explore things with someone you trust“ she acknowledges before she leans in a little closer to your ear. „Do you trust me, darling?“ she whispers causing you to moan the word out „Yes“ quicker than you can think or compose yourself. She smirks, her hands still massaging your shoulders, knowing she has got you right where she wants you.

You feel your nerves as your heartbeat quickens, her hands on your shoulders causing a heat to spread through your entire body, so tense that you are sure you had never felt something like this before. „Like what?“ you dare to whisper, your eyes still closed and slowly letting Emily put you under her spell. Her hands leave your shoulders and you almost whimper at the loss of contact before her head travels much closer to your ear, her hands rubbing softly against your arms as she whispers „Well let‘s just say, I have a few ideas“. Her lips are so close to your neck that you feel yourself jolting in your chair, the heat already travelling to your core.

„Emily“ you whisper, forcing yourself to attempt to turn around but she keeps your chair in place. The whisper was both a desperate longing and you could both feel it but also the quiet plea that this was wrong, that you both know you couldn‘t do this. But Emily didn‘t care anymore, she wanted you and she couldn‘t hide it for a second longer. „Just let it happen, I promise you will enjoy it“ she reassures, her voice softer. You remain silent, unsure where exactly this was headed and if this was just another one of your daydreams about the woman. „Let me show you something“ she suggests and before you know it, her touch leaves you as she walks towards the door, closing it gently as well as the blinds, giving you both complete privacy.

Your head turns faster than you can think and you watch as Emily leans against the door, looking at you with an expression of sheer hunger. Her fingers curl in your direction, ordering you to come to her and you obey immediately, feeling yourself so drawn to the woman that she seems to have a pull on you. Your heart races as you stand inches apart and before you know it, she captures your lips in a kiss that was both tender and electrifying. You melt into her touch, closing the last distance between you as you move your lips along to her touch. When she pulls away, you are left breathless, confused and craving more.

„What was that?“ you ask out of breath, your stubborn profiler side still fighting with your desires. „A taste of what you can have, but trust me, it can get much better darling“ she whispers, her eyes sparkling with mischief and hunger. Emily was like a drug, the kiss from moments before so addictive that you feel yourself craving for more. Without thinking you press your lips against her again, wanting more, wanting what she is offering you. Emily takes your hand, guiding you to the small sofa in the corner of the room, before she makes you sit, sitting down beside you. „Let‘s take our time, I want to make you feel good“ she whispers before she leans in again, capturing your lips in kisses that have your whole body on fire, your tongues fighting and dancing against each other.

She begins exploring you, her hands roaming your body, her lips marking your neck and claiming you as hers. „Just relax kitten“ she whispers, her hands caressing your side, as she feels how both nervous and out of breath you are. Every kiss, every touch ignites a fire within you that started long ago, when you first began looking at Emily as more than your partner at work, when the first daydreams and dreams at night began to happen. „Emily“ you breathe, already a mess at this point. She halts her movements for a moment as she notices this going further, exactly how she wanted.

„Can I show you something?“ she whispers, her voice sounding more serious than before. You nod nervously as you open your eyes and she softly lays you down, moving on top of you before she undoes her belt. „Give me your hand“ she softly orders and you comply as she takes your hand, guiding it into her trousers and what she had needed to tell you before this. You gasp when you feel the sensation, having expected a lot but not this. „Emily“ you whisper, your eyebrows wide in surprise. „You have..?“ you begin and she nods with a smirk upon seeing your reaction.

„A penis?“ she smirks causing your cheeks to burn a deep red shade. „Yeah, surprised?“ she asks and you simply nod before finding her eyes. „Are you comfortable with that?“ she asks and before you can even say anything, you automatically retract your hands, pulling her down and pressing her whole weight against you. „Emily, I want you“ you whisper as you press your lips against her yet again and then something shifts within both of you, the pure desire and bliss replaced with a hunger that turns you both into panting messes as you both begin undressing each other hastily. Emily stands as you practically rip her trousers and blazer off, leaving her in her underwear and the brunette helps you quickly discard of your clothes as you throw them to another corner.

Emily climbs back on top of you, beginning to explore every part of your naked body, caresssing your arms while her mouth explores your chest, your neck and eventually your hardened nipples. „God you‘re so beautiful“ she mumbles already high on having you like this, having you all for herself. When her lips wrap around your hardened buds you moan, not caring anymore and wanting to show her how good she is making you feel. Her body travels lower and lower on the sofa, eventually near where you needed her most as she carefully takes off your underwear, leaving you completely exposed to the older woman.

You are already glistening and the imagine makes her hard almost immediately. „What do you want kitten?“ she whispers softly as she watches you, your chest heaving. „I want you“ you whisper again „But you have me baby“ she reassures before you pull her up again, wanting to taste her lips again before you nestle yourself near her neck. „I want to feel you“ you pant, your hands beginning to fumble with her underwear and leaving her equally exposed, her hard shaft, pressing against your thigh. „Already?“ she asks in surprise, having assumed you wanted to take it slow. „Please Emily“ you urge her, wanting nothing more than for her to fill you up.

„Okay, okay“ she chuckles at your neediness, reaching down to her trousers to extract a condom but you stop her. „No“ you whisper, your eyes silently communicating and begging with her, yet again taking her by surprise. Something changes within her then, having underestimated you and making her even more eager. Without warning she slams her lips against you, adjusting herself on the sofa before spreading your legs with her hands. She positions herself just right, still on top of you, still kissing you before she enters you, gently first to give you time to adjust. But you both feel it then, how she fits into you so perfectly, how your walls soak her up and take her so well and so she quickly bottoms out, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

„God Emily“ you whisper, holding onto her back for stability as she still moves gently despite how deep she is inside you. „You‘re so perfect“ she smiles, her hands moving to your nipples again, cupping and playing with them, to get all those sweet little moans out of you. With each little move, she feels you growing more impatient, needing more as you wiggle a little to feel more. „Someone is impatient“ she chuckles causing you to pout a little. „Please“ you beg, causing her to smirk, her plan from the beginning having worked successfully. „Tell me kitten“ she encourages you „Tell me exactly what you need“ she urges and something within you changes then, no more holding back, all your thoughts turning to mush with having her on top of you and inside you like this.

„Fuck me Emily please, I need you so bad“ you whisper, causing her to smirk yet again before she whispers „Oh you have me baby“ without warning she begins slamming into you faster and so much harder, hitting all the right spots as your skin slaps against each other, your breaths mingling with her moans as the two of you are already so close. You completely surrender to her, the moans slipping out, your hands still holding onto her, letting her take complete control over you, trusting her with your life in this moment.

The brunette begins feeling her own arousal building up, feeling you so perfect, seeing you being so good for her underneath her, all your moans so perfectly, your hips moving along with hers, making her feel so good and the way your pussy is eating her cock so perfectly. „You feel so good“ she whispers, praises flowing freely from her lips. Your mouth hangs open, unable to form any coherent words at this point as the pleasure takes over. When your nails begin scratching her back, holding on for dear life, she knows she won‘t last long, beginning to slow her movements, wanting to edge you a little.

She pulls out completely, making you whimper at the loss before she pounds into you again, your juices beginning to flow down your pussy and onto her hard cock. Her lips travel to your neck, beginning to nibble at it, leaving little marks before her lips ghost over your ear. „So good for me“ she whispers, causing some tears to roll down your cheeks from the pure bliss and feeling your orgasm fast approaching. With each thrust she has you so close, yet pulling out again to draw out all those little noises and begs one by one. „Emily please“ you beg, causing her to have a hard time holding her own orgasm back. „Fuck.. please make me cum“ you beg and she gives in then, seeing how you are doing so well for her.

She begins pounding into you harder and faster, balancing on her knees as she now has better access to your body, her hands stabilising on your stomach to pound into you even harder than before, the new position making you lose control completely. Before too long your eyes snap open, meeting her brown ones, your mouth hanging open, wanting to say the words so badly but you can‘t and she nods, reassuring you it‘s okay. „Let go darling, I‘m gonna make you feel so good“ she promises and with another big thrust and you screaming her name, your orgasm washes over you, coating her in your warm juices as it leaks out of you without warning.

Emily is a moaning mess seeing you in such bliss and carefully she begins pulling out, needing her own relief so bad. The loss again makes you whimper, desite your chest heaving and barely able to breathe due to the intensity of your orgasm. „No no“ you plead, wanting more, wanting her inside you still. „I can‘t hold it“ she admits, her breaths coming in heavy and hard as her entire cock pulses and throbs, so full of cum for you. „It doesn‘t matter Em“ you reassure, your eyes again communicting with her own and taking her by surprise. She hesitates, unsure this wasn‘t too much for your first time but before she can even think further, you pull her down, pulling her right back inside you as your legs wrap around her hips, trapping her inside you.

„Oh god“ she cries out, knowing she couldn‘t hold this in for a second longer. „Please fill me up, I want your cum inside me“ you whisper and then she lets go, unable to hold back any longer. Emily begins trembling on top of you, before you feel her warm liquid coat your walls, causing another orgasm to ripple through you as the two of you cum with each other, your pussy soaking up all her juices as she lets go completely, filling you to the brim. It takes a while before you two manage to catch your breaths, the pure bliss taking over. She remains on top of you, inside you as you pull her closer and she wraps her arms around you, her head resting on your chest and listening to your still increased heartbeat.

„That was“ you begin, unable to finish your sentence, still feeling so high. „Amazing“ she finishes for you, her eyes meeting yours before kissing you again, this one much softer, much gentler as she pours all of her emotions into you. The two of you remain there for a long time, soaking in each other‘s warmth, the ocassionsl kiss or her caressing your cheeks, soft praises flowing from her mouth as you enjoy the aftermath of the bliss you experienced together before she eventually pulls out, gathering some wipes to clean you up. Her touches are soft, gentle and making you feel cared for. She hands you some water, wiping the sweat of your forehead as she takes care of you with gentle hands.

„You are full of surprises Y/N“ she teases a while later after the two of you are successfully dressed again and having hidden any evidence of what happened in here a while ago. „Says you“ you tease, glancing at her bottom half, causing her to shake her head playfully. „Breakfast?“ she offers and you glance at the time in shock, realising how much time had passed and you nod a little shily, unsure what was going to happen between you now. But her next action explains it all, confirming any doubts as she takes your hand, walking you through the offices, not caring who sees and towards the elevator. She kisses you before the door even closes, making sure the whole world and most importantly you, now know that you belong with her.

[thir10th]

clothes-emily prentiss x fem!reader

summary: a slow morning with Emily when you've just started dating tw: make out, no smut, just domestic fluff w Emily A/n: i was just in the mood for a little drable, what can i say

You feel a paw lightly patting your face, the soft fur tickling your nose

"Serge, please, 5 minutes" you groan at the cat that has already set on your pillow, wrapping himself in a little black ball, you'd find it incredibly cute hadn't he just woken you up an hour before your alarm went off.

You decide it's a lost battle and move to leave him occupy your pillow, burying your face on the other one, it smells like Emily's shampoo.

The woman feels your body pressing against hers, and she turns around to meet your face, her naked body pressing against yours closer now.

Her eyes still closed, she's still half asleep but she gives you a soft peck on your lips "mh-morning" she mutters.

Her silky black hair tickles your face, but you don't move, you let it cover your forehead and you inhale the scent.

"why doesn't he wake you up? he's technically your son"

"because you spoil him too much" she twists around trying to grab part of the sheet falling off the bed due to last night's activities.

Her nose scrunches in comfort, you think it's adorable and can't help but to kiss it. She barely reacts, which makes you think she's probably still too asleep to correspond.

Last night had been your 3rd real date with Emily, the familiarity you already felt being the result of the time you had spent being "just friends" until you finally gave in on your attraction to each other. You wouldn't have it any other way.

It had been Emily's turn for last night's date, after getting back from work, she cooked, opened a bottle of wine, and you ended the night making out in the coach, and the bed, and the shower, and then the bed again. You felt exhausted in the most perfect way.

"so what, i give him a little too many him treats, he deserves them" you sigh, giving up on sleep coming back to you.

You stand up, unwrapping your body from Emily's strong grip around your waist, she whines, but ends up giving it up and wrapping herself around the pillow.

You scratch Sergio behind the ears, and move to pick up something to put on so you can go make breakfast

you grab the blue shirt that she wore yesterday, and a pair of her boxers, both were laying on the floor, scattered around along with the rest of both your clothes.

You follow the trail that was left on the corridor, you find your pants and Emily's, your bra, your shirt, all the way to the living room. You pick them up, leaving them on the couch, then following to the kitchen.

You secure your headphones in your ears and pull up a favorite playlist. Coffee percolating. Music going. You hum along and gather the ingredients you need to make pancakes, the easiest recipe you could ever memorize.

You crack the eggs carefully, making sure no shells fall into the mixture, you swing around to the music in your ears, dancing to it as you cook.

One by one, the stack of pancakes gets bigger until you run out of mix, you sip on your coffee, turning around to set the table, but when you do, you jump.

"Jesus!" Emily leans on the wall, she watches you with a grin on her face "How long have you been standing there? You almost killed me"

"just enough, are you making pancakes?" she asks, you can't help but to feel embarrassed, she says she's been there enough, which probably means she's seen all your musical number, at least most of it

"Yes, you can get this there until I'm done here" you tell her, turning around to finish up, but instead of doing what you asked, she comes around you, wrapping her arms around your waist, hugging you from behind.

"you smell so nice" she whispers, her head rests on your shoulder, she kisses you there, and on your neck, leaves a trail of small, sweet kisses along your shoulder.

Her hands caress your waist, "you’re wearing my shirt" she says, pressing her lips against your pulse point which makes you chuckle "i am" you say.

Her fingers slowly brushing the bare skin behind her boxers "and my boxers" she nibs at the soft skin on your neck, the smile on your face doesn't fade, you turn to face her, surrounding her neck with your arms

"do you mind? that- that i wear your clothes- I mean"

"no, no, of course not" her hand moves to take a couple of hair strands off your face, placing them behind your hear in a loving gesture

"in fact- you look really good in my clothes" the bright smile on her face turns into a devilish one

her lips crash against yours, lips and tongue, the wetness in her soft lips making you groan on her mouth, she swallows your sounds, her hand grabs your face, yours wrapping around her waist, gripping the flesh.

You separate you lips from hers to much of your distaste "let me just finish this ok? can you wait just a second?" you ask, but she doesn't let go off you, her hands on your waist lower to get your ass, giving a light squeeze

“Maybe. We’ll see,” Emily chuckles, the intensity of her kisses and touches increasing now, tugging you back into her chest. Emily kisses the side of your head, and groans about having to wait to have you.

You finish all up as fast as you can, trying to ignore the woman-koala that's wrapped around your waist, kissing your shoulder where the shirt keeps falling off.

"ok, I'm all yours now, try not to burn me, the stove is still warm" she lets out a devilish laugh

“mh, I like how that sounds, mine”

she loves hearing you’re hers, and you know it. She bites at your earlobe possessively.

she presses you into the counter, her kisses get heavier, hotter, deeper. "Ems-" you say breathlessly "mh?" she asks, her lips back onto yours.

"don't start something you can't finish" you say taking a moment to get away from her lips, but she's back at it in no time

"who says i'm not finishing this?"

Before you can even react, she lifts you up to the counter, you wrap your legs around her waist, your ankles pressing on her ass.

"I let you in my pants a couple of times and now it's all you can think about, who would've said SSA Prentiss was such a needy woman" you joke, her lips still kissing your neck, she snatches at you and kisses you again, biting your lip a little harder than usual

"well, i guess i just can't get enough of you" her lips crashing against yours once more "you're just lucky you're so cute, or i wouldn't let you get away with something like that"

Her words have an immediate effect on you, making you whine aloud "oh, please, don't let me get away with it"

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

I can write a thousand of this if you like them! I’m a sucker for intimacy and domestic Emily!!!! 😭😭😭

Like and reblog <3

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Surprise (Part 1)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: mentions of sex, some explicit language, let me know if I need to add anything please! Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Your life with Emily takes an unexpected turn when Hotch asks Emily to come back to the BAU. It takes you about a month to pack up you and Emily's London flat and meet her in D.C. What she doesn't know is that you've brought back a surprise.

You collapsed into bed next to Emily, huffing and spent from a day of directing movers and unpacking boxes.

"You alright?" she asked, leaning over you to push your hair out of your face.

"Yeah," you breathed, closing your eyes. "Just tired."

"I am so–" She kissed your forehead. "Glad." Your cheek. "You're here." She pressed her lips into yours and you felt your whole body relax.

She kissed you hungrily, passionately, as if it'd been weeks and, well, you guessed it had. She started moving down your neck, and you groaned.

"Emily..."

"Mmhm?"

"I'm too tired for this."

"Even if you didn't have to do anything?" she said, her eyebrows raised.

You sighed, caressing her face. "You're very tempting, but I feel sweaty and gross and jet lag is kicking my ass. Tomorrow?"

"Of course," she said, planting one more kiss on your lips.

It was no secret in your relationship that, of the two of you, Emily had the higher sex drive. But she was always respectful, always made sure that you really wanted it. And if you didn't, she never, ever made you feel bad. It was one of the many reasons you loved her. And you'd both discovered that it only made the next time better.

You smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Snuggles are okay, though."

"Just okay!?" she said, teasing you. She lay down and pulled you into her, and you rested your head on her chest, breathing deeply.

"More than okay," you whispered. "The best."

"I missed you so much," Emily said, placing a kiss on your forehead, and tracing the skin on your back underneath your shirt.

"I missed you, too."

After a few minutes, Emily spoke again, her voice quiet and somber.

"Thank you," she said.

"For what?"

"Uprooting yourself for me. Again."

You tilted your head to look at her. "I'd do it ten more times."

She held you just a little tighter after that.

"Oh!" you exclaimed suddenly, launching yourself out of her arms. "I forgot! I got you something."

"Oh, yeah?"

You pulled a folded sheet of paper out of your backpack and handed it to her, smiling mischievously. You crawled back into bed, sitting crosslegged as Emily propped herself up on her elbow to read what was on the page.

"Wow," she remarked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "A blood test. How did you know?"

You shoved her. "Just read it, you dork."

Her eyes moved back and forth over the page. "HCG markers? Honey, you know I don't know what any of this means, right?"

You waited, holding your breath, nearly bursting with excitement.

"Gestationa–" Emily stuttered to a stop, her eyes growing wide. She turned quickly toward you. "Y/N, are you pregnant!?"

You nodded, beaming, your face flushed.

Emily's eyes were filling with tears, and you grabbed one of her hands in yours.

"No, you're not," she argued, fighting against hope as you nodded and nodded. "No, they said it didn't work. I called and talked the doctor myself."

You gasped. "We'll circle back around to the fact that you didn't trust what I told you about my IVF results later, but I don't want to mar our beautiful moment here."

"Y/N!" Emily exclaimed, looking at you, desperately hopeful and desperately scared at the same time. "It was negative...""

"It was a false negative," you told her, nearly giddy with the information. "I had them run it three times last week. It was positive every time."

A few tears dripped down Emily's cheeks and she sniffed, brushing them away and sitting up to grasp your face in her hands.

"You're pregnant," she said again, as if she still couldn't quite believe it.

"Yes." And the grin that broke out on Emily's face–giddy and hopeful and brimming with excitement–was the most beautiful her face had ever been to you.

"We're having a baby!"

"We're having a baby," you confirmed before she pressed her lips to yours, wrapping her arms around your neck.

She kissed the spot behind your ear, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. She kissed the bottom of your chin, your collarbone, then lifted up your shirt, laying her hands gently on your stomach and planting a kiss right in the middle.

"We're having a baby," she repeated, quietly, as if to the little clump of cells that would become your child.

And suddenly it was like a switch had been flipped in Emily, as if she'd moved from shock and disbelief to pure, unadulterated excitement.

"How big do you think he is right now!?" she asked, voice and eyes bright as she pressed her face into your stomach. She cut you off before you could say anything.

"Actually, hang on." She grabbed the sheet of paper from beside her and looked it over studiously, then started scrolling on her phone.

"So according to this, you're at six weeks," she observed.

"Mmhm," you confirmed, leaning back into the pillow and running your fingers through Emily's hair. "The due date's September 19."

Emily squealed. "Oh, honey, this says his little heart is developing!"

"Or her," you argued, but you were grinning ear to ear watching Emily. She was giddy, elated, happier than you'd ever seen her, and she was pretty damn happy with you. You pictured her next to you on the bed, so soon, cradling a baby. Your baby. Yours and hers. The thought gave you butterflies.

"And his little arms and legs and everything are starting to grow! Look at him, Y/N!" she continued, lifting her phone to show you what was essentially a concentrated cluster of organic matter. "He looks like a little shrimp!"

"Or she! Or they, we don't know!" you repeated, more emphatically this time.

"He's a boy, at least for now," Emily decided. She was so nonchalant, so sure about it, that it annoyed the hell out of you.

You scoffed. "How would you know that? You've known about the baby for maybe ten minutes."

She shrugged. "I'm a profiler. I know these things."

You scowled at her, incredulous. "You profiled our six-week-old fetus?"

"Uh-huh."

"Sure you did."

But Emily had already moved on. "He's the size of a lentil!"

You sighed, but you were happy at heart. Happier than you'd been in a long time. You were home with Emily. Back in the States. And there was a little tiny human coming soon.

"Oh, babe, this says morning sickness happens around now," Emily read, absentmindedly stroking your thigh. "Are you having that?"

"Not yet..."

"That's good." She kept reading. "What about... sore breasts?"

"Yes. So be gentle tomorrow please."

Emily grinned like an idiot and kept scrolling.

"Mood swings? Yes," she said.

"Hey!" you exclaimed, smacking her over the head with a pillow.

"Not in a bad way! It just... makes more sense now."

You hated yourself for it, but at that moment, tears flooded your eyes. Damn hormones.

"It's not my fault, Em!" you blubbered. Alarmed by your outburst, she threw her phone to the side and quickly moved to wrap you in her arms. "I just have a lot of feelings right now. And I'm sorry I'm so moody, but you know what? At least your body isn't the Grand Central Station of hormones!"

"Okay," Emily soothed, pulling you close and wiping tears from your cheeks. "Oh, baby, that's a lot of feelings. Just let it out."

You shook and cried, and you were sure you looked absolutely pitiful. You couldn't remember feeling anything so strongly before in your life. You hated it.

"I can't stop crying all the time. I cried with the movers. I cried on the plane, even, and the flight attendant came over to ask if I was okay. I hate crying, Em! And I hate talking to strangers!"

"I know you do," she said, smoothing your hair. "But you know what? I'm gonna be right here with you, okay? I'll talk to all the strangers. And you can cry all you need to."

You hiccuped a bit and leaned into her.

"And soon," she said, slipping a hand under your shirt to place it over your stomach. "There'll be a little tiny us here, and it'll all be worth it."

You exhaled deeply and pressed your face into her chest. "You better do whatever I want for the next eight months."

She chuckled. "I'll do my best, anyway. For you and the little guy."

"Or girl."

"Guy," she said to herself, so quietly you knew you weren't meant to hear it. You smiled anyway.

[luveline]

jade!! i saw you were willing to add emily to your 46 fics and i have a request!! i think about your emily x single mom!reader everyday and i was wondering if you’d write more in that universe? maybe emily has to drop readers kid off at their first day of pre-k or preschool (i have no clue what you call it in the uk) because reader has a work emergency or something??

thanks so much for requesting! fem, 1.1k

“It’ll be fun,” Emily says. 

Jane is looking at Emily like she’s grown a second head. “No.” 

Emily tries again. Swallows her nerves, and readjusts herself where she’s on her knees. “Mommy was gonna drop you off herself, but it's her very first day back at work and they needed her super early, so it’s me. But mom will be the one who picks you up again.” 

Jane just squints. 

“I have to go to work, too,” Emily says. 

“I’m com’n with you,” Jane says, nodding. 

Emily looks behind Jane at the baby gated corral of little kids. It’s possibly the worst adjustment in the world for your work to decide the day-of that you’d have to go early. You didn’t have time to prepare Jane for her own first day, and Emily isn’t good at this bit yet. 

“No,” Emily says, holding Jane by both arms, “I have to go work too, and it’s too boring for you. You’re gonna have way more fun here meeting your new friends.” 

Jane had already met one of the daycare workers, incidentally called Janet, a few days ago to try and ease the new phase of her life, but it’s a common fact that the majority of kids cry on their first day here. Why wouldn’t she? Jane has spent the majority of her growing life with you. This is a horrible adjustment, but better she does it now. 

Emily’s just waiting for tears.

“Em-wy…” 

“It’ll be fun, okay? There’s so much to do! Colouring, painting, dancing, nap time. They’ll make you lunch, and your new friends will have games to play–” She strokes Jane’s arm. “Sound fun?” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“I’ll miss you…” Jane mumbles, her eyes finally growing shiny. 

Emily’s honestly not expecting it. “Well, I’ll miss you more. But mommy will pick you up soon,” —you aren’t working the full day— “and you’ll see me at dinner time, okie dokie?” 

“I’m not…” Jane looks lost for what to say. She’s very, very little. Emily isn’t surprised. 

“I know it’s different, but it’s not bad.” Emily tilts her head to the side, giving Jane her gentlest smile. She’s learned all her motherly tricks from you. It’s easy to fall into that tone of voice, that same affection, because Emily adores Jane. 

“Em-wy,” Jane mumbles again. 

“Janie,” she says, copying Jane’s warbling voice. “Baby, I swear it will be great, and then mommy will pick you up and I will buy you whatever big girl dinner you want. We could have McDonald’s.” 

She whispers the last part. 

Jane smiles slowly. “Okie dokie.”

Emily should’ve guessed that Jane wouldn’t cry. She’s a funny little kid, quiet and sweet and a teeny bit slow to understand. Perhaps she’ll cry once Emily’s already gone. 

“Okay. Do you want a cuddle before I leave?” 

Jane nods, tucking her face into Emily’s front. Emily wraps her arms around her and breathes in the smell of the lavender conditioner you’d run through her hair last night. “Love you, babe,” Emily whispers. 

“Love you too.”

—

Emily thankfully gets home. Hotch laughs at her eagerness to not work, remarking that somehow you’d made a family of a woman determined not to be tied down. He had a point —Emily didn’t realise she wanted a wife until she met you. Didn’t realise she wanted a daughter until she met Jane, though she’s had her whims and whiles about it. 

This is real. 

You hear the door and hurry to it. Emily’s barely out of her shoes when you find her, in your smart clothes yourself, a chocolate smudge on your cheek. 

“Where’s the fire?” Emily asks. 

“Thank you for this morning,” you say, taking her hands. 

Emily softens as you rub her fingers. “You’re welcome. Did she– was she okay? She looked extremely worried for a baby.” 

“She’s not a baby.” You lean forward and to one side, just touching her. “Emily, you– I was so worried, I thought she’d take it hard but you really pulled a magic trick. She didn’t even cry when I picked her up. When I asked how her day was, she told me you promised it would be fun… and that you were going to get her McDonald’s.” 

“I will get her McDonald’s.” 

You take a swift, soft kiss. “My hero. She told me she missed me, but guess who she mentioned first?” 

Emily raises her eyebrows. 

“Mm-hm,” you hum, pulling her to the kitchen. “Em-wy, of course.”

Emily squeezes your hand as you both enter the kitchen to find the source of your kissed cheek. Jane sits at the table in lavender pyjamas to match the smell of her hair. She’s eating chocolate covered strawberries and celery with peanut butter, spread on her hands and lips, but less on her cheeks than her mom. 

“Baby, look! Guess who’s home?” 

Jane finds Emily with her gaze and gasps happily, clapping, a strawberry falling in the gap of her chest and table. “You’re back!”

“I’m back! You’re home, too! Did you have fun?” 

There’s a suspicion in Jane’s expression that she’s too young for, as though she’s guessed this whole daycare business is permanent, but she shrugs it off. “I miss you,” she says. 

“I’m back,” Emily reminds her. “I can see where mommy got her kiss from, that looks yummy.” 

You wipe your cheeks with two palms and bring them down to find chocolate melted against your fingers. “Thanks for telling me.” 

“I had plans to help you eventually.” Emily rounds the table and chair to tip Jane’s head back gently, looking her over. “You okay? Did you have a good day?” 

“Good day,” she echoes. 

“You’re happy?” Emily asks. 

She’d realised how nervous she was for your girl the second she left the daycare building. What if Jane hates it, and she cries the whole day and makes her eyes sore? Emily hadn’t enjoyed thinking about it, deciding she’d get her more than McDonald’s. 

“I’m glad you had a good day,” Emily says. 

“I fed Sergio!” Jane tells her. 

Sir-joe must be a pretty happy cat. “Thank you, babe, you’re the bestest.” 

You aren’t jealous but eager as you slide into Emily’s side and under her arm. You smile as you rest your face on her shoulder, a little cat-like yourself as your breathing evens. “She saved the day.” 

Jane looks up at you both, but her eyes meet Emily’s as she smiles. “Missed you, mommy,” she says. 

Emily’s heart skips a beat, wondering, just for a moment, if Jane was talking to her. Emily wouldn’t mind it. It wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

You nab a strawberry from Jane’s plate. Emily’s expecting it, but she’s still too happy to talk as you kiss her cheek. “Got you back.”

[railingsofsorrow]

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

request me something

━━━━━━━━━

“Where is Emily?” You asked Hotch after watching Spencer and a few other kids leave the church.

This wasn't looking good, you had a really bad feeling in your gut and where the fuck was Emily?

“Hotch—”

“She's on her way.”

“Spencer's here so where is—”

That's when the entire church exploded, sending you a few feet further from where you where desperately waiting for your girlfriend to come out. You didn't fell, you didn't slip, Hotch held you by the shoulders, Derek, JJ and Spencer carried that look of agony and grief at the same time. She didn't come out she didn't come she didn't come out—

Emily is still in there.

Emily is still in there?

And then, you uncovered your ears and took off in the direction of the orange hot flames.

Your name was called but you didn't listen. You heard yourself screaming, was that your voice? It sounded like an animal being maimed. It didn't sound human. But it came out of you.

Derek's muscular arms held you back by the waist, and you fought against the restraint, yelling at him and begging just begging to be let go because she was still inside.

“She's still there, please, no let me— She's still in there!”

“Sh, it's okay.”

“No! You don't get it, she's still inside! No, please—”

“Baby, baby.” Then your girlfriend's voice errupts through your eardrums, her breathing right next to your neck was the only thing that made you believe she was truly there. She got out... She got out? “'m here. Right here.”

That agony, that burning dissipated as you let your body sink in her arms, the strong hold on your waist diminishing to give Emily the opportunity to wrap her arms around your middle and secure you.

Your body shook with sobs and some kind of desperation despite knowing your girlfriend was out of danger! Is she really? Or are you dreaming?

“Don't ever do that again, you hear me?” Emily smelled of smoke and sweat, she had bruises littered all over her face and she was the most beautiful woman you've ever met, who you were so desperately terrified to lose and you came really close to that tonight. “You should've come out before-before, with Spencer—”

“I know,” Emily shushed you with kisses in your cheeks, forehead and eyelids. She loved doing that because she knew you loved it. “I know. 'm sorry.”

You wanted to say don't apologise because it wasn't your fault, you were trying to save people but every time you try to play hero my heart shatters with fear. You stayed quiet, leaning into her and focusing on the warmth she provided. That's all you needed.

━━━━━━━━━

taglist: @ninkieminjaj ; @ssa-shaylam ; @storiesofsvu

━━━━━━━━━

a/n: ik I've been mia but I can't find motivation to write these past few weeks :( I'm working on carry on sun-bleached paper towels though, hopefully I'll post a new chapter soon? maybe now that I'm at my college break it will work out.

[propertyofemilyprentiss]

HI I LOVE YOUR WRITING & CONGRATS ON 100 FOLLOWERS! 🥰

if i may, request from 💙 sparkling wine prompt #1: “is that my shirt?” / “you mean our shirt?” with reader wearing emily’s shirt around the house while she’s cooking dinner and emily comes home to find her in it?

THANK YOU SM!

A souvenir for the night

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

Category: Fluff

Summary: Emily comes home to a cooked dinner and the sight of her girlfriend wearing her clothes.

TWs: implied smut

A/N: Thank you so much for the kind message and for the request! I really appreciate it <3

Word count: 1.4K

Sometimes, in the early mornings that weren’t disrupted by the duty calls of new cases, you had the luxury to bask into the morning sunlight and gaze at your girlfriend’s sleeping form and the peacefulness that engulfed her features. You had the opportunity to wake her up with little kisses and whispered words of affection, your heart always fluttering at the sleepy smile she gave you in response, which uncovered those perfect dimples. 

On the other occasions, you weren’t as lucky - between the delicate verge of dreamland and reality, your mind would be able to process Emily’s soft voice apologizing for her early departure alongside with how much she loved you and that she will be back as soon as possible. Then, you would just fall asleep again, waking up later to the empty bedside.

Today was one of those unfortunate times, a Saturday nonetheless, your eyes tracing along the silent room, the spot next to you showing lingering traces of the person you were already longing for. Sighing, you pulled the blanket away, the sudden contact with the cold air causing goosebumps to your skin. Stretching your stiffened muscles, you got up from the bed, spotting the thrown clothes on the floor from the night before with a small curl on your lips. 

It only took a couple of seconds before you picked up Emily’s oversized white shirt and a pair of fresh underwear, heading towards the bathroom for a long shower. You always loved staying in on the weekends - you could argue with anyone you knew that a cup of coffee, paired with a blanket and a good book on the couch was better than any other activity - even more so if you could rest against your girlfriend and read together. In her absence, your day wasn’t much different, but you would also make sure to send her messages throughout the day, probably writing one too many “I love you’s”.

However, the day got progressively better once you found out that the case that was going on was local, meaning that Emily will be coming home tonight. Giddily, you got out of bed, roaming through the kitchen in hope to find the necessary ingredients for dinner, her reaction a constant motivation to do anything for her. Really, you would give her the world if you could.

The rest of the day was filled with grocery shopping and apartment tidying, preparing the dining table with a clean white tablecloth and three vanilla-flavored candles in the middle, ready to be lighted up later. You didn’t bother to change into your clothes once you got back from the supermarket, tossing the jeans away and remaining once again in her oversized shirt. 

Soon, boredom caged you, knowing that Emily could well arrive at a decent hour or past midnight. You could only hope that it wasn’t going to be the second option today.

“Hey, love. Let me know when you’re out of work”, you texted her at some point, internally wishing that she would magically say that she’s already on her way.

“I will. I love you, mi amor”, she said back in a matter of minutes, and it made your heart sing whenever she would use those words for you. 

You were such a goner, you didn’t even bother to hide it.

”I love you too, Em”, you sent in a matter of seconds, knowing that she adored the nickname from the moment it fell from your lips.

Sighing again, you plopped on the couch with a blanket and a book, deciding that it was the only way to make the time pass faster in your girlfriend’s absence. And the moment she notified you that she was getting ready to leave, your heart rate picked up as you made your way to the kitchen, starting to prepare the pasta sauce.

_

Twisting her keys into the front door, Emily was greeted by the smell of your cooking, a smile already tugging at her lips. Closing the door behind her, she hung her coat and got out of her boots, tossing her keys on the counter. The combination of her stomach churning and her heart fluttering caused an almost overwhelming excitement as she made her way to the kitchen.

”Honey? I’m home!”, her voice was like a melody, emphasizing on the last word.

She pauses in the doorway, her eyes widening slightly as she sees you in her shirt and bare legs, for a moment her mind going blank. You looked absolutely divine right now - it almost made her forget how to breathe properly. There was something so intimate and domestic about the sight of you in her clothes, stirring up a strange mix of emotions that she would gladly get used to.

“Say something, you idiot”, a small voice was yelling at her, but her voice just wouldn’t cooperate right now, only managing to let out a couple of mumbled words.

“Is that…my shirt?”.

You paused the stirring motion for a bit, turning towards her and enjoying that look of pure adoration on her face. It made you want to simply go and wear her clothes all the time. 

“You mean our shirt?”, your voice had a subtle teasing tone that didn’t go unnoticed, evident by the delicate shade of pink on her cheeks.

It was like your question short-circuited her brain again. Moving on autopilot, she walked further into the kitchen to join you, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your neck before settling her chin on your shoulder.

Silence.

”Earth to Emily?”, you couldn’t help but tease her more, resuming your attention to the hot pan of sauce on the stove. 

“Huh…? Yeah, I’m here”, her voice was whispery, like she was miles away, “it looks good on you”…so good that you’re going to be the death of me someday - she wanted to add, but kept it to her thoughts.

“Thank you, love”, you replied affectionately, somehow making her fall in love even more with you.

It was just impossible not to.

She plants a kiss to your shoulder, trailing it up to your neck, the feeling of her lips in contact with your skin causing you to unconsciously shiver in response. She tightens her grip around your waist, continuing the soft kisses on your neck until she hears a long sigh coming from your lips.

”Em, if you continue that, we won’t be eating anytime soon. And I made pappardelle bolognese…”, you whined a bit, not caring at all about the food at this moment, your senses all focused on her perfect lips.

And if she wasn’t starving right now, you would have already been in her arms on the way to the bedroom. It made her groan a bit, the sound of her comfort food bringing her back to reality.

”Fine…”, she pouted, resting her chin back on your shoulder, savoring the closeness of this scene instead. 

Maybe after.

She watched as you kept cooking, her heart doing those weird little flutters again. Here you were, making her favorite meal after a long day, wearing her clothes and looking unbelievably beautiful in the process. She must be dreaming.

”I love you”, she spoke softly, finding no other way to express her gratitude for your presence. For the way you always took care of her. For the way you lighted up her world from the moment your paths crossed. For the way you made her forget how loneliness feels like. For everything.

”I love you too”, you moved your head slightly to smile at her, and she immediately took the opportunity to kiss your lips this time.

The rest of the evening passed quickly, but in the coziness of your shared apartment, time seemed to stand still as you ate dinner at the candlelight table, the faint smell of vanilla bringing a soothing sense to the room. It was silent, but not the awkward one where you didn’t know what subject to bring up - it was a comforting one, in which you basked into the feeling that you were in the presence of each other. No words were needed.

And later that night, when both your clothes found their way back onto the bedroom floor, the rest of the world faded away, letting you be just two women that loved each other endlessly, forever and always.

[consciouscarrot]

kinktober day 3 - overstim [ e.prentiss ]

emily prentiss x fem!reader

content warnings; vibrators, v fingering (r!receiving), overstimulation (obvi)

notes; shorter than usual :)

kinktober/flufftober masterlist

—————

you were lying on your back, hands grasping the sheets, legs spread and head tilted back, whimpering as emily pumped her fingers in and out of your cunt. her head was between your thighs, free hand pressing a vibrator firmly into your clit, held up on the bed by her elbows.

the two of you had been here a while, emily had had a tough case, she’d vaguely mentioned children being involved before getting thoroughly distracted with you, not wanting to think of it any longer.

her eyes flicked between your face and your cunt, conflicted on which was the more arousing sight. she could never get bored of making you feel good, helping clear your mind and make you cum until your legs were shaking, utterly obsessed with the sight of you.

you had your eyes closed, lids squeezed tightly together as your mouth was held open in a near constant flow of moans. she adored the way your brows pinched together when she hit that spot inside you juuusst right, the way your legs involuntarily closed, as if to try and run away from the otherworldly pleasure.

she could tell that the vibrator was becoming too much, having been used on and off for the past hour or so. your poor little pearl was so red and puffy, struggling to keep up with the continuous thrums of pleasure.

she upped the speed, wanting to get one more out of you like this before she moved on, and had to hold herself back from humping against the sheets when your back arched with the cutest little whine.

fluids poured out over her fingers, she couldn’t take her eyes off of you as you went silent for a moment, so overcome with pleasure that you couldn’t make a sound, the only noise being the lewd squelching coming from your heat, before your whole body shook and you screamed. you always looked the prettiest like this, hair tangled and strewn out over her expensive pillows, body gleaming with sweat and cum, face scrunched up and you’re such a sloppy mess, all for her.

she turned off the vibrator, pressing a quick kiss to your button, chuckling when you twitched at the feeling. you almost thought that was it, and that you were finally getting a break, but emily kept her digits going in a steady pace, hooking them into your sweet spot as your walls clamped down around her.

she turned her head and rested it against one of your thighs, smiling up at you smugly as you gasped and cried out for her.

“please, ca- can’t take it em,”

“but i haven’t even gotten around to eating you out yet, baby. you’re not gonna deprive me of my favourite dessert, are you?”

you gasped, guilt filling you in your cloudy headspace. how mean of you, she’d gone to all of this effort for you, and you couldn’t even be bothered to give her the one thing she’d asked for. you couldn’t believe how selfish you were being. maybe you could manage just a little bit longer.

“okay, okay but just one more,”

“mhm alright, just one, sweet girl,”

she manages to get two more out of you.

[temilyrights]

"all this to prove a point?" for the writing prompt

emily prentiss x reader

no warnings. no use of y/n or pronouns for reader.

sentence fic prompt

You rub your hands together, trying your best to generate some heat in your body. Emily’s car, while lovely, did not provide the warmth of an suv on a usual stakeout and you were seriously regretting your inability to tell this woman no. 

“All this to prove a point?” You mumble, the humour fading from your tone the longer you sit in the cold car, the September air biting away at your fingers and toes. 

Emily sits with her camera pointed at Morgan’s apartment, a determined glint in her eye. “Better personal life than me, my ass. He came straight home and hasn’t left the building since!”

You roll your eyes, wishing desperately you were home, “Yeah but he’s also not wasting his evening stalking his friend.”

Emily lowers the camera and turns to face you, brows drawn together. “He can’t make accusations like that and not expect me to find proof.” 

“Well maybe if you focused a little bit more on yourself and a little less on him then you wouldn’t need to prove it and you’d have a private life he couldn’t argue with.”  

She scoffs, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Always so clueless.

You shake your head, annoyed, embarrassed, and frustrated by the woman in front of you. “I’m right here.”

Emily’s frown only deepens and you blow out a breath, “I invited you out for dinner tonight and instead we’re stalking Morgan and have completely missed our reservations. Every time I try to move us forward you find a way to shut it down.”

“Reservations? I thought you wanted to get take-out and head back to one of ours, like usual.” She says with genuine confusion. 

“No, I booked that nice Indian place you like.” 

“Oh,” She responds, dropping the camera firmly in her lap. 

“Look,” you sigh, “I just need to know, okay? Because maybe I’m just failing to get the hint and you’re really not interested but I thought we were going somewhere. I like you Emily.” 

“You like me? Tonight was supposed to be a date and instead I blew you off and made us sit and stake out Morgan.” She says slowly, words strangled.

“Yes.”

“Fucking hell.” She blows out a breath. The car is silent for a moment as she comes to terms with the news and then her gaze focuses back on you. “I’m so sorry. I will make this up to you. I’m taking you for the best date night starting right now.”

Your eyes widen, “Wait so that’s a-?”

She smiles, wide and happy, “Yes, idiot, I like you too. God, why else would I ask you to sit here with me?”

You can’t help but smile too. Head in the clouds as Emily puts the camera away and the keys back in the ignition. 

“Ready to go?” She asks, a playful smirk on her lips that your eyes linger on. 

“There’s just one thing first.” Because you can’t wait a moment longer. You’ve waited years. 

You lean over the centre console, hand cupping her cheek and pulling her towards you to meet you in the middle. Emily’s eyes darken instantly, her gaze dropping to your lips before they fall close and her lips softly meet yours. 

Your body hums, alive as your lips move tenderly against hers. A gentle whine escapes your lips and your body heats up as you regretfully pull away. 

“Mmmhmm,” Emily hums, lips well kissed and eyes dark. “We can definitely do that again.”

“Food?” You ask, voice strangled. Avoiding the knowing look in her eyes, suddenly shy. 

“Oh, babes, I’ve got the perfect place.”

taglist: @ry-kills-jemily @sapphic-stress @xrainydazeteax @mckennamayfairgoode @enduringalexblake @augustvandyne @themoontaxi @prentissology @alexbllake @ssa-sapphic @storiesofsvu

[hotchscoffeecup]

for her, i’d endure

pairing: emily prentiss x reader

rating: t

word count: 7.6k

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: torture, descriptions of blood/injuries, drugs

summary: When you and Emily are kidnapped by The Chameleon, an elusive unsub that team had been tracking for years, you’re forced to watch her endure torture at his hands. In the hospital, you reel from your own injuries and the guilt of not being able to stop anything from happening to her. Angst and hurt/comfort with a happy end.

It’s hard to keep them open from the pain it causes you to try. You can’t help the slow drowsy blinking that follows. If they’re closed it doesn’t hurt as bad. Maybe this is a dream. Yeah, a dream. Just close your eyes and go to sleep, you tell yourself. You’ll feel fine in the morning.

Someone harshly whispers your name. You stir, but ignore it. Closing your eyes, you murmur something that isn’t quite a response, and try to welcome the darkness to take over. You just want to sleep whatever this is off…you try to at least. The harsh rasping whisper returns. There’s your name two, three times.

“Huh?” is all you can muster as you crack your eyes open once more. There’s a fluorescent light somewhere to your left, casting strange shadows over your field of vision. Your eyes burn. You want to close them again.

“Yes, that’s it!” cries the whisperer, “stay with me!” There’s an urgency in their voice, and as you take a few measured breaths, you gain more and more control over your senses. “Are you hurt?”

Emily. That’s Emily’s voice.

“My head,” you complain about the throbbing in your temples. “I think I hit my head.” You move to touch the side of your skull to assess the damage when your wrists don’t follow through with the command from your brain.

“What the—” There’s a sudden clarity that takes over as you hear the clatter of metal against metal. Your wrists are bound behind your back. You kick your legs out, or at least you try to. They’re bound too with zip ties to the legs of a metal chair that’s bolted to the floor.

“Don’t panic.”

“Emily?”

Fingers brush against yours from behind your back and you cling to them, though it’s awkward as you try to reach them. You’d know the feel of her hands anywhere. He’s got you and her back to back.

“I’m here,” she says soothingly, despite the edge in her voice.

“What happened?” you ask as your field of vision begins to clear and the picture of where you’re being held begins to form. It's dark save the fluorescent light you noticed earlier. There’s a few panels in the ceiling still flickering to life, though most are dark. Wires and cables hang haphazardly from the ceiling and water drips from a cracked pipe that stretches over the width of the room. The floor beneath your feet is concrete. You can’t see a door and the only windows are two small rectangles high near the ceiling. You’re underground. “Where are we?”

“The Chameleon,” Emily says after a short while.

Your heart skips a beat and you have to take a few measured breaths to keep the panic from creeping in. “You’re sure?”

The Chameleon, nicknamed such by the local media, is a serial killer that you and the team had been chasing across the East Coast for the last two years.You and the team didn’t care much for these nicknames as they often sensationalize the killer and detract from the victims, but it the name was fitting due to his nature to blend in to every environment he’s been a part of. This is largely due to how he is able to gain his victims' trust. Some of his known ruses include posing as law enforcement, a member of the clergy, other first responders, caretaker for a “lost” elderly patient, and more. He’d feign a scenario that caused the victims to unlock their doors, stop their cars, or otherwise pull their focus under the guise of safety. Once their guard was down, that was all he needed to ensnare them in his trap. Victims were initially blitz attacked, as evident by the bruising to their heads and faces, but as he evolved he began to dose them with heavy sedatives before taking them to a secondary location where he’d hold them for twenty four hours. During this time, he tortured his victims indiscriminately; sometimes cutting, sometimes burning, sometimes removing pieces of them or utilizing a combination of all three before ultimately succumbing to his need to kill. He favored a knife, often slitting the throats of his victims once he’d grown tired of playing with them. Despite his ability to blend in and kidnap his victims undetected, everything else originally pointed to someone just starting out, unsure of their preferences. However, this unsub evolved quickly. Victimology stopped differing and he’d settled on a pattern for women in their thirties, dark features, and often in roles that provided some sort of power. Though methods of torture varied, the rotation or combination of torture implicated states similar enough to create a pattern. He stuck to the routine, though. One woman every three months for the last two years. That was until recently. Now, a woman had been going missing weekly, suggesting a major deviation. Something had changed for this unsub, increasing his need to kill quicker and more often. Emily fits the victimology, but taking you too? It didn’t make sense? He’d never taken in pairs before.

“Fuck,” you mutter. You pull at the cuffs around your wrists, but they’re clamped too tightly. They don’t budge. “How long was I out?” you ask.

“Hours,” Emily responds. She sounds tired. “I don’t know how many.”

You blindly reach for her fingers again, this time with your other hand. When you brush against them, they’re slick with something.

“Emily?” you ask, concern edging into your voice. “What’s he done to you?”

“Cutting,” Emily answers clinically. “Left arm, chest, and right leg. They’re superficial.”

Red clouds your vision knowing he’d hurt the woman you love, and that you’d not been conscious enough to at least try to do anything about it. When you get your hands around this bastard’s neck…you yank hard against your restraints and hiss when all it does is cause the metal to dig deeper into your wrists.

“Baby, stop,” Emily whispers, keeping her voice low in case The Chameleon can hear. “We’ve been closing in on this guy. We just have to hope the team recognizes we’re gone before…” her voice trails off as a door opens.

Your heart stops and then starts, it’s usually steady beat now pumping erratically against your chest. You remind yourself to breathe, to take measured breaths to slow your heart and fight off the instinct to panic. The body’s natural inclination for self-preservation is astounding, but you couldn’t just think about yourself right now. You needed to be alert and look for anyway to wriggle into this guy’s psyche, anything to keep him from hurting Emily any further.

There’s a metallic clank as whatever door that’s out of your eye line slams shut. Heavy footsteps echo in the space and you count. Twenty four. There’s twenty four steps. You can’t fight the way your body tenses as a silhouette begins to emerge from the shadows. As the figure comes into focus, your eyes widen in surprise.

“Surprised to see me?” the man says, a twisted smile curving on his

“You know him?” Emily asks as she attempts to crane her neck to look at him.

You take in the man before you: white, mid-30s, average build, dark curly hair, and blue eyes wild with evil intent. You don’t know his name, but you've seen him before. You all had. Your mind flashes to each body dump where the team had investigated and gathered initial evidence to further flesh out the profile. You close your eyes and let your mind’s eye expand your field of vision to include the gathering crowd of onlookers. As you mentally guide yourself through each crime scene, you can clearly see him.

“You were there the whole time,” you say with a surprisingly level of calm as you open your eyes and meet his gaze directly.

He extends his arms to either side, a look-at-all-i-have-accomplished gesture, though there’s no audience save the two of you to take in his performance. “What can I say?” he says. “The media named me for my ability to blend in anywhere I go. I like the nickname, I do.” He points his finger at you as he begins to circle around you and Emily like you’re an injured seal in shark infested waters. “Though you profilers don’t like when these major news outlets do that. It sensationalizes the killer while taking away from victims.” He stops in front of you and bends at the waist to look you in the eye. You muster as much contempt into your gaze as possible.

“Good,” he snarls. “Those sluts aren’t worth remembering anyway. Any thoughts on that, agent?”

You nod. “Yeah, actually, I think I’m pretty tired of listening to you whine about your mommy issues.” A fire ignites in his eyes as you say this. You smirk. “Ooo, that did something. Did that strike a nerve?”

His lip curls as he takes a shuddering breath.

“I think I did, didn’t I?”

His knuckles collide with your face and there’s an explosion of stars behind your eyes as you feel your lip split in two. Emily calls your name and curses the unsub’s. There’s a buzzing in your ears as you blink the fog away. You sit up as best as you can and spit blood onto the floor. If his attention is on you, it’s not on Emily.

“Is that the best you can do?” you say, leveling your gaze back on The Chameleon. “You had to hit me from behind the first time. Are you scared to face a woman head on? Too much of a coward to face them? Or are you just too weak?” You incline your head toward your lap. “After all, you’ve got us tied up. Untie me and we’ll see just how well you do one on one.”

The Chameleon seethes, nostrils flaring as his rage blossoms. “You know nothing!” he bites.

“We know, everything.” You answer. He may not have been on the team’s radar, but you’ve seen this type before; a man that’s been forced into a submissive role and emasculated his entire life finally snaps and turns the tables on innocent women to make up for the lack of care he missed out on from a mother figure his entire life. He blames them because he can’t take his anger out on the person he wants to most. Mommy.

“Do you?” he sneers and you don’t flinch away from his hot breath on your neck.

“You’re easier to read than a children’s nursery rhyme,” you taunt.

The Chameleon snarls and this time his knuckles collide with the center of your face and there’s a sickening crunch. Blood pours from your broken nose onto the front of your shirt.

“Enough!” Emily shouts. “She’s not the one you want.”

You blink through the haze and blaring pain. Emily’s name is garbled as you try to say it, but there’s too much blood in your mouth. Just like the flickering gaze of a reptile, his eyes shift instantly to her. The desire that alights his face makes you want to throw up. She’s the one that fits the victimology. She’s the surrogate, the object of desire in his twisted fantasy.

“I think,” he says slowly, and you’re surprised you don’t see a serpentine tongue flicker between his lips. “That this next part will be more fun with an audience.”

Your vision shifts in and out of focus as you follow his movements. He shuffles just out of view of your peripheral vision and trying to force your eyes to see farther than they can exacerbates the splitting pain in your skull and face. Everything throbs. You can hardly see straight.

He returns with a syringe in hand. He holds it up for you to see. “Maybe I am weak,” he says bitterly. “But I’m the one in control and there’s nothing you can do about it.” He pushes the syringe into your arm and a slow, metallic heat creeps through your veins. Your limbs quickly grow heavy and your senses begin to dull.

Behind you, Emily pulls at her restraints. “Hey! What are you giving her? Leave her alone. You don’t want her, you want me.”

A choked laugh escapes the unsub as he cuts the zip ties at your ankles. You want to kick out at him and knock that smug look off of his face but the signals from your brain are cut off. Your body won’t follow the command your mind is ordering due to the drugs scrambling your system. Your eyelids are heavy. You want to close them. The unsub recognizes this and slaps at your face. “No, no. You can’t close your eyes, now. You’ve got a show to watch.” His lips twist into a sickeningly delighted smile. He slips a key from his pocket and undoes both sets of cuffs keeping you bound to the chair. You slump forward against him and he catches your weight easily. He wraps his arms around your waist and grunts as he hoists you over his shoulder. There’s static coursing through your limbs and despite every wish and desire to lift even a finger, your limbs don’t cooperate.

You slide off of him like rain down a windowpane, though instead of coming to a gentle stop you hit the ground like a stone thrown into a pond; all of your weight crashing down. Your head rattles against the wall and stars explode across your vision once more.

Emily calls your name and you try to focus on that. You blink and her form comes into focus. She’s bound in the same manner that you were in a chair exactly like yours. There’s blood staining her clothes, her blouse cut to ribbons and her pant leg tattered from where he slit it open with a knife; the same knife he used to cut into skin. Blood drips onto the floor.

She smiles at you and her gaze is so tender as her eyes meet yours. “Whatever he does to me, it is not your fault.” She’s soothing you. She’s about to endure more torture and she’s trying to comfort you.

You want to speak, to tell her you’re sorry, that you love her. You want to stand, to untie her and take her to safety. Most of all you want to put that unsub in the ground. A single tear leaks from your eye as The Chameleon wheels a tray table near Emily. The soft eyes she reserved for you steel upon seeing him.

He picks up a scalpel, his fingers gentle as he curls them around it; a stark contrast to the violence he inflicts with it. “Let’s get started, shall we?��

Emily licks her lips and raises her chin to look him in the eye, defiant in the face of danger. “I’ve already come back from the dead once before. At least if you’re successful, I know whose ass I’m haunting first.” She narrows her brown eyes to slits. “Come on, lizard boy. Let’s dance.”

•

Tears leak down your cheeks as you’re forced to watch what he does to her. She continues to taunt him, but her voice has grown weak. She’s losing too much blood.

“I wonder,” Emily says, her breathing labored. She lifts her gaze to meet the unsub’s. “You love that knife.” She inclines her chin toward the blade in his hand and his fingers twitch. “Tell me, is it because you can’t get up? Are our mommy issues too severe?”

A wild scream tears from his throat as he backhands her. A sharp grunt of pain leaves her lips but no scream. She sheds no tears for him. She’ll show no fear to him and allow him to feed off of her emotions like he did with his other victims, but he knows she must be feeling the weight of the torture, of the exhaustion settling in.

Her voice is tired, but her words are dagger tipped. “You’re not a man,” she spits blood on the ground, her teeth stained with it as she bares them at him. “You’re just a coward, a little boy missing mommy’s hand to guide him through your pathetic, wayward life.” Each word is sharp and articulated, a needle digging a little deeper and deeper into his flesh with each cutting syllable.

“Enough!” he bellows, spittle flying from his mouth as he lifts his arm. In one swift downward motion, he plunges the scalpel into her thigh.

She screams, her voice ragged and raw. A panicked sound bubbles in your throat, but the drugs overpower your ability to call out to her. Your fingers twitch as you try to summon any amount of strength to them, but to no avail. You can’t move them anymore that. You try to wiggle your toes and only feel a tinge of movement from them. Tears leak down your cheeks and drip off of your chin. The tear stains left behind are cold overtop of the dried blood smeared across your face from your broken nose, still throbbing with pain.

Emily sits hunched over, her shoulders heave with shuddering breaths. She’s breathing. She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive. The thought plays on repeat in your mind. If she dies, there is no place this slimy, spineless creature can hide where you wouldn’t be able to find him.

A strangled moan rumbles from behind your lips as The Chameleon approaches Emily. There’s a smirk on his lips as he brushes his fingers along her jawline. Just as quickly as the smirk appears, it dissipates as he shoves her face away from him, disgust twisting his features.

“I think I’ve had enough of you,” he grits through clenched teeth. “You’re all the same. There is no place for women like you. I’m doing the world a favor by getting rid of you.” He picks up another knife off the tray table and moves to stand behind Emily, knife poised beneath her throat. His shifting eyes fall on you and his smile returns. “I hope you’ve enjoyed the show.”

You feel your brow pinch as a wash of emotion floods through you. Your hand twitches and you manage to ball it into a fist, but you can’t force much more than that.

“Emi—” your tongue lolls inside your mouth and you can’t get her name out but it’s enough to get her attention. Her wavering brown eyes fall on yours and you hope she can feel your full apology and profession of love in your eyes as you await the inevitable.

“I love you,” she mouths and a sob shudders free from your own.

A single gunshot cracks through the air like a whip.

As the unsub slumps to the ground, Derek’s hulking frame comes into view. “He’s down!” He calls as he holsters his weapon and rushes to Emily. His hand moves to the knife in her leg.

“Don’t!” Emily warns. “Let the medics handle it. The keys to the cuffs are in his pocket.”

As Derek squats beside the unsub Hotch and Spencer clamber down the stairs, spilling into the room.

“We need medics,” Derek says to them, eyes filled with concern. “We need them now.”

“Copy that,” Spencer states as he presses against his earpiece and relays the information.

Hotch holsters his gun and rushes to your side. Crouching down, his hands smooth your hair back from your face to inspect the damage.

“Can you hear me?” he says. You blink heavily as his face comes in and out of focus. He repeats the question and says your name. He’s asking you to talk to him, but you can’t.

“He injected her with something,” Emily says weakly as Derek works to uncuff her. “A sedative or a paralytic, I don’t know. She can’t move. She can’t, she can’t—” Emily’s eyes flutter and roll back in her head. Your eyes widen as she slumps forward. Derek catches her before she can face plant the concrete and risk dislodging the scalpel sticking out of her thigh before the medics can do their job to ensure she’s not at risk of bleeding out, if she wasn’t already.

Your hand twitches, fingers jerking against your palm as a sound of desperation eeks past your still lips. Hotch presses his hand into yours and squeezes. His hard eyes meet yours and there’s pain and understanding in them. He’s born witness to seeing the love of his life killed by an unsub. It was something he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. He had to hope that Emily would survive what she’d endured here tonight. He squeezes all of that hope into your palm as the medics crash down the steps, backboards and kits at the ready.

“She’ll be okay,” Hotch promises, though there’s a hint of doubt on the edge of his words. “You’ll be okay.”

As the medics make way and his hand slips free from yours, you can only hope and pray that what he says is true.

•

A gentle beeping is the first thing you hear as your senses slowly creep back to life. The sound is soft, but each punctuated tone sends a pulse of pain to the space behind your eyes.

Your eyes crack open and you squeeze them shut again as the bright white of the fluorescent lighting blinds you.

“Shit,” you hiss. Your voice is hoarse.

“Hey, you!” greets a female voice. Penelope’s voice.

“Too bright,” you grumble.

“Oh! Hold on!” Her heels click against the tile of the hospital floor, a switch flicks, and the light behind your eyelids darkens. You feel the relief immediately though the bruising around your eyes and throbbing pain reverberating through your nose and cheeks starts to overwhelm your senses as you become more alert.

You crack one eye and Penelope’s bright face comes into view. Her pink cat eared headband matches her glasses frames and lipstick. Her smile reaches her eyes and that only just eases some of the anxiety that floods your system, the only other thing you’re able to feel besides the pain. If Emily was dead, Penelope wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye right now.

“I need to see her,” you say, sitting up and immediately regretting it. The room spins and your hand flies to your head, fingers pressed against your temple in a poor attempt to stop the whirling sensation.

“Sweetie, oh my God, don’t—” she stands up and crosses the room, but you’re already pushing the sheets back.

You curse as you rip the IV from your arm, the tape holding it in place ripping out the hairs on your arm. Garcia tries to take hold of your hands, but you bury them inside the folds of the hospital gown as your fingers feel for the numerous electrodes tacked to your chest. Hooking the tips of your fingers around the wire once you find a place to bunch them together, one swift tug is all it takes to dislodge them. The machine beside the bed flat lines as it no longer receives your heart rate.

“Honey please don’t make me—” Her face scrunches as you move to stand. She sticks her arms out to block you from doing so “Oh, you’re going to make me, ok— Derek! Hotch!”

Her shouts are like a drill through your skull. You blink and black spots your vision as it blurs. The pain in your face is so intense, but you have to push through it. If Emily could endure what she did, you can push through this to get to wherever the hell they were keeping her in this goddamn hospital.

Hotch and Derek burst into the room, eyes frantic and scanning the scene. Morgan swiftly cuts through the space, swerving in front of Penelope and taking you by the arms. Garcia may have hesitated to stop you in your tracks but Derek has no reservations whatsoever.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asks sternly.

Two nurses rush into the room and Hotch placates them with a gesture implying things are under control . He says something to them in a low voice and they glance your way once before nodding and leaving the space.

“I need to see her,” you say as you push against Derek, but in your current state you may as well be trying to push the Leaning Tower of Pisa upright.

His grip around your wrists is firm, but gentle; his hands placed just above the bandages from where the cuffs had bitten into your skin.

“She’s not awake yet,” Derek says. His features soften as he looks into your panic filled eyes. “She’s stable. She’ll be okay, and I promise you that the minute she wakes up I will take you to see her.”

“But Derek—”

He clicks his tongue. “No buts. You’re no use to her if you’re not well. You nearly overdosed on the drugs that man gave you. He broke your nose so badly, they had to re-break it to set it correctly. You have a concussion. Are you hearing me? You need to get your ass back in that bed.”

“Honey, listen to him.” Garcia adds, her voice equal parts soothing and concerned. “You can barely stand.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as hot tears well in your eyes. They slip down your cheeks and seep into the medical tape plastered to your face and nose. You draw in a shuddering breath as Derek guides you back into the bed. He presses a warm hand to your shoulder before stepping back and putting an arm around Garcia.

“Come on, mama, let’s go get a coffee while the nurses get her hooked back in.”

Penelope’s mouth drops into an o-shape as if she’s about to protest.

“I’ll stay with her,” Hotch assures her. “Go. I’ll call if anything changes.” That comforts her enough to let Derek steer her out of the room and into the hallway.

As the sound of their footsteps fade away, Hotch exhales a heavy sigh. The heels of his loafers click against the tile as he crosses the room and takes the chair Penelope had been occupying at your bedside.

“How are you feeling?” he asks as he reaches over and presses the call button to summon the nurses.

“Like someone cracked me in the face with a sledgehammer.”

A hint of a smile passes over your supervisor’s lips and a ghost of a laugh passes your own. You wince as the motion sends a new wave of pain rippling throughout your face.

“How bad is it?” you ask.

“The doctors say it should heal fine. They’re baffled that the break didn’t do any damage to your septum. The bruising will take time but you won’t need surgery so—”

You lift your eyes to meet his. “Not me, Hotch.”

His lips press into a firm line. “She lost a lot of blood,” he says after a moment. “In total, he cut her about fifteen times before stabbing her. She was right to tell Morgan not to pull the scalpel out. It was dangerously close to her femoral artery. The unsub was either incredibly calculated in avoiding it or it was dumb luck that saved her.”

Your brow pinches as his words sink in. “What was his name?”

Hotch’s chin dips in response to your question. “Carson Peters. He was a Vet Tech on the perimeter of the geographic profile. We never even interviewed him.”

“The whole time we never knew his name,” you breathe.

“If I know Emily, I’m sure she came up with a few,” Hotch remarks, trying to lighten the mood.

Your lips twitch, but a smile doesn’t take shape. There is an entire slew of names you’d wanted to hurl at the unsub, to say anything that would have taken his attention off of Emily for even a second but you couldn’t because of the drugs he’d pumped into you. You squeeze your eyes shut as an image of him cutting Emily flashes through your mind.

Hotch says your name. You hear the deep tenor of his voice, but it’s as though you’re underwater. Emily’s cries of anguish echo in your ears.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as a tear leaks from the corner of your eyes. “Emily, I’m sorry.”

A firm hand slips into yours and you gasp, flinching from the contact. The image distorts and vanishes. You open your eyes and take a deep breath, dropping your gaze onto the hand in yours. You lift your eyes to meet Hotch’s hard stare. His fingers squeeze around yours and he nods.

“You’re safe,�� he assures you. “Carson Peters is dead. He can’t hurt you, Emily, or anyone else ever again.”

Your fingers twitch around his as you blink back the onslaught of tears that want to pour out of you. “I couldn’t do anything.”

Hotch’s features soften. “I know.”

“I couldn’t stop him.”

“There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

You swallow the growing lump in your throat. Hotch squeezes your hand again, intentionally doing so to keep your mind from wandering. He’s keeping you grounded.

Your voice cracks when you speak. “I felt so helpless.”

“I know,” Hotch states as he levels his gaze on hours. His brown eyes waver as he speaks. “Witnessing a loved one’s abuse and not being able to do anything about it is a torture all its own. In our positions we have the authority to do something about it and in most cases, we can. When we can’t,” he pauses and takes a deep breath. “It’s natural to play it over and over again, to wonder where you went wrong, to think that somewhere along the line you could’ve done something, anything, to change the outcome.” His brow lifts toward his hairline. “We will kill ourselves ruminating on the what ifs and what could have beens.”

We. He’s not just talking about you anymore. He’s talking about his past when the unsub George Foyet killed his wife, Haley. You’d joined the team several years after her murder, but you’d been briefed fully on the case. It was well known to everyone in the BAU.

It’s your turn to squeeze his hand and you realize how out of the ordinary this exchange is. You’re as close to Hotch as anyone else on the team, but he’s not usually the touchy-feely type; the occasional half hug or handshake sure, but this level of vulnerability is uncommon.

A nurse walks into the room and Hotch stands to greet her. He shakes her hand and introduces himself formally; name, rank, and title. Establishing credibility for what, you wonder. He speaks in low tones and after a moment the nurse looks at you before looking back at him. She nods her head and he thanks her before she exits the room.

“What was that about?” you ask.

“A favor,” he answers as the nurse guides a wheelchair into the room.

“Five minutes,” the nurse says, aiming a pointed look at Hotch.

“Understood.”

The nurse leaves and Hotch pushes the chair up to the edge of the bed. He slips a hand behind your back to help stabilize you as he extends his other hand for you to grab hold of.

“Where are we going?” you ask as you take the proffered hand. You groan as you sit up and your head spins. You swear you can feel every bone in your face throbbing as pain threatens to split you in two.

“To see Emily.”

Your heart swells. You look at Hotch, eyes widening. “I thought—”

“I told the nurse you’d stay put and allow them to do their jobs and help you if you were allowed to see her. Hence, the five minutes.”

“Five minutes,” you repeat, nodding your head.

Hotch smiles reassuringly. “Five minutes.”

Slowly, Hotch assists with the transition from bed to chair. The shift exhausts you and it sinks in just how weak you are. However, the prospect of seeing Emily keeps you alert enough to push through.

The trip to Emily’s hospital room is short. She’s two right turns and one long hallway away from yours. The door to her room is cracked when you arrive and JJ opens it as Hotch reaches for the door.

“Sweetie!” JJ smiles brightly at you, though her eyes are tired. She leans down to pull you in a gentle hug, minding your face as she does so.

Her eyes flit between you and Hotch. “She’s in and out of consciousness. They’ve got her on some pretty strong painkillers, but she’s going to be alright.”

“Are you ready?” Hotch asks.

Your heart hammers in your ears, but you nod your head and whisper, “Yes.”

JJ steps out of the way so Hotch can wheel you inside the room. You raise your chin to peer over the threshold and whimper upon seeing Emily, hand moving to cover your trembling lips. She lies still beneath the sheets, which are pulled up over her lap. Her arms sit atop the sheet, her left arm bandaged from above the elbow to her wrist. Bandages peek out from beneath her hospital gown. An oxygen cannula is fitted under her nose and butterfly bandages hold close the split in her eyebrow. Hotch puts the brake in place after wheeling you right up to her bedside. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “JJ and I will be right outside. Five minutes,” he says.

Your eyes don’t leave Emily. “I understand.”

When the door clicks shut you let the floodgates open. You take Emily’s hand in yours, minding the IV jutting out from it, and cradle it to your cheek. “I’m so sorry,” you sob. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t do anything to stop what he was doing to you.”

You blink away the stars that dot your vision as each sob sends an intense wave of pain through the break in your nose and bruising under your eyes.

Emily’s thumb sweeps slowly across your cheek. You take a shuddering breath and swallow your tears as you turn your attention to her. Her eyes crack open and a small smile ghosts her lips.

You gasp and choke back a sob. The smile that splits your face sends a burst of pain through your bones, but you don’t care. It doesn’t matter. You’d feel this pain and all that she endured to see her warm, brown eyes on yours like they are now. Her smile, despite the pain meds dulling her senses, reaches her eyes and they’re so bright. As you look into them, for a moment you’re no longer in the hospital. You’re on a bench overlooking the Potomac and the sun is setting; its golden rays falling over Emily’s face and her eyes changed from brown to liquid gold. It was then you knew you’d never love looking into someone’s eyes as much as you loved looking into hers, that you’d never love anyone as much as you loved her.

You blink once and you’re back in the hospital. “I’m so sorry,” you blubber and clutch her hand to your chest. “Baby, I’m so sorry.”

Her voice is hoarse when she speaks, but the way she says your name is as soothing as ever. She shushes you and presses her fingers into your skin as she grips your hand. “Shh, baby, honey, look at me.”

You swallow and try your best to still your quivering lip as you raise your eyes to hers. Hers are focused as she looks at you. Her perfectly manicured eyebrows arch toward her hairline as she inclines her head toward you. “There is nothing that you could’ve done that would’ve prevented this, and that is okay.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head in refusal.

“Hey,” Emily says, pulling you back in. “Look at me.”

You sniff and take a deep breath as you open your eyes. “If anything,” she adds. “Your being there saved my life. He drew out the torture because he had an audience. If you hadn’t been there, there’s a chance he would’ve killed me before the team got to him. Do you understand?”

Your gut response tells you that she’s right, and you have to fight the part of your brain that’s telling you otherwise.

Her hand slips out of yours and reaches to cup your face, keeping her palm along your jawline to avoid your injuries.

She smiles and gestures to herself with her other hand. “Most of this is superficial anyway. The knife he jammed into my thigh will scar and take a while to heal, but that’s the worst that was done to me. I was,” she presses her lips together as tears glisten in her eyes. “I was so worried about you.”

Something between a laugh and a sob escapes your lips. “We make quite a pair, don’t we?”

Emily laughs in turn, the sound enough to make your heart swell three times over. “At least we’ll be able to spend our recovery together,” she says hopefully.

You smirk and tilt your head, considering. “My place or yours?”

Just then the door creaks open and Hotch steps inside. He smiles. “Sorry to cut the reunion short, but if I don’t get you back, I think the charge nurse will have my gun and badge.”

You all share a laugh. As he fixes the brake on the wheelchair, Emily tugs your hand toward her mouth and places a soft kiss to the backs of your knuckles. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You smile and nod as the tight feeling in your chest from before ebbs away. “Okay.”

As Hotch exits the room with you in tow, JJ hands you two cups of coffee. “For you and your watchdog,” she says with a nod towards Hotch.

You thank her and as Hotch pushes you back towards your room, you finally feel like things will be okay.

•

Two weeks later, you’re still on medical leave, but you feel as though you're getting back to normal. You’d been released from the hospital first and a few days later, Emily. Her apartment was bigger, so you’d gone to yours and with help from Penelope packed a bag. It was easier for you two to be in the same place knowing how often the team would be checking in.

Garcia had stayed over with you, helping you keep track of the medications the doctors had prescribed. She helped take care of Sergio too. The little guy had been all too happy to see you, weaving in between your legs and rubbing his furry head against your calves. When Emily returned home a few days later he couldn’t stop meowing. When she rested, he’d fall asleep beside her or curled up in her lap.

Just as expected, members of the team had been through in pairs, on their own, or as a whole. Penelope stopped in daily with coffees and pastries from the shop next to Emily’s building. Derek came by every other day, occasionally with Savannah when her work schedule allowed. She’d checked Emily’s wounds a few times from your insisting as you were worried about infection. Savannah assured you each time that Emily was and would continue to be fine so long as she kept up with changing her bandages and taking the antibiotics she’d been prescribed. Hotch had only visited once, which was unnecessary but still so kind of him. You knew he often stayed late working to ensure everyone else could go home on time. He did this all while balancing his responsibility as a father and the fact that he sacrificed a little bit more of his personal time just to check in on you two meant so much. Rossi had sent homemade Italian with Penelope or Derek. This week you’d been given enough carbonara to feed an army.

You’re fixing two bowls now for you and Emily, a late dinner as you’d both fallen asleep around 3pm and napped until 7pm no thanks to the pain medicines that kept you two on relatively similar sleep schedules. You shred some parmesan and sprinkle it over the top before sticking a fork into each.

“I’ve got dinner!” you call as you make your way back to the bedroom.

“Thank god, I’m starving.” You push open the door with your hip and place the bowls on Emily’s bedside table.

You lean down and kiss her, wincing slightly. The bruising around your eyes and cheekbones has gone down dramatically, but your nose was still bound and held in place by a splint and medical tape. The doctors say in about a week or so, it should be healed completely but to still exercise caution with day to day activities.

Emily rests on top of the covers. Her hair is up and out of her face in a loose ponytail, pieces of which had fallen out while sleeping and now stick to and around her face in various places. You try your best to smooth them down before cupping her chin in your hand. You smile and stroke your fingers along the smooth skin of her jaw before dropping your hands to pull the throw blanket down off of her waist, exposing her legs, bare except for the plaid pajama shorts she wears and bandages wrapped around her thigh.

She shivers in response to the air against her legs. “Sheesh, give a girl some warning!” she protests and you throw her a cheeky grin.

You open the bedside drawer and retrieve the supplies to clean and dress her wound. “We should finish the rest of that movie,” you suggest as you climb onto the bed to kneel beside her. Using a small pair of scissors, you carefully snip away the bandages to reveal the square gauze pad covering the wound. “I want to know how it ends and we keep falling asleep.”

Emily snorts. “That’ll happen when we both take narcotics before bed thinking we’ll make it to the end.”

“Yeah, but,” you remove the gauze and inspect the incision, searching for any signs of infection around the twelve carefully placed stitches. As you squeeze a bit of the antibacterial ointment onto your finger and gently rub it over the spiky black threads of the sutures, you can’t help but think of how much it resembles the caterpillars that used to invade the trees in your backyard as a kid, a story Emily did not care for your retelling when you first did this. “It shouldn’t be so hard to make it through a two hour movie.”

“I still can’t believe you’ve never seen The Parent Trap,” Emily says, bristling as your fingers rub over a particularly sensitive area.

You apologize as you lay a fresh gauze pad over the wound. Your fingers move quickly as you unroll and wind a new roll of bandages to keep the gauze in place. When you finish, you wipe your hands off and gently massage the skin around her thigh knowing it helps to stimulate blood flow to the area.

Emily moans in response to the treatment. Her head lolls to the side and she peeks at you from behind long lashes. “I can’t wait to show you how grateful I am for your incredible nursing skills.”

You arch a brow at her as a smile quirks at the corner of your mouth. “Down girl,” you tease playfully.

Emily bends her opposite leg, raising her heel to curve around your body. She pokes her toes up under your tee shirt and your back stiffens as they touch your skin. You reach behind your back and grab her by the ankle, chastising her as you laugh and place it back on the mattress. “Emily!”

“What??” she asks, laughter tumbling from her full lips.

“We’ve not been cleared yet for that!”

She pouts in response and you clamber over her, carefully, so as not to disturb the injuries of her leg. You straddle her waist and lean down to place a soft kiss along the curve of her jaw. “Trust me, I want to get back to that as much as you do.” Your eyes drop to the swell of her breasts, her nipples poking through the thin fabric of her camisole. “But you and I both know neither one of us are capable of having gentle sex, and I don’t think our doctors would be happy if we did anything to make this take any longer than it already is.”

Emily groans in frustration. “Stupid doctors and their stupid orders.”

You laugh as you lean down to grab your dinners off her nightstand. Carefully, you lift your leg and roll over her body to your side of the bed; passing Emily her bowl as you do so. You reach down and pull the throw blanket up over both of you as you snuggle into the uninjured half of her body. She turns and places a kiss on your temple as she grabs the remote and clicks on the tv.

As she twirls pasta around on her fork, she turns to you and smiles. “I’m glad you’re here with me,” she says, eyes twinkling.

You smile in turn. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be than with you here, right now, at this moment in time.”

“I love you,” she says.

“Not as much as I love you,” you answer.

“Impossible,” Emily promises.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hi!! I have a one shot request (I hope I’m in the right place lmao)

What about a autistic (fem)reader who is super smart and seems to notice things about the case that the others haven’t and every time she tries to state her thoughts a rude sherif cuts her off/infantilising her and Emily defends her

Honestly my brain stopped at the thought of Emily, I need more of her 😔🫶

-anon ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

fem plus size autistic!reader, wc: 517.

a/n: i have had this finished but sitting in my drafts because i was too lazy to post it, but here it is! i hope that i was able to capture what you were looking for right! :] this can either be read as platonic or romantic!

cw! asshole elders :/

You have been spoken over and shut down for the past hour, twenty minutes, and thirty seconds. 

You hated being silenced, but one thing that trumps that was being infantilized. You worked hard to get where you were now, and you hated being treated like a child just because your way of thinking was different from your peers. 

You have saved thousands of people and you’ll be damned if you continue to be treated like this.

“If you look closely, you can see that the area that these women were killed in must hold some kind of sentimental meaning to our unsub.” You grab the black marker and go to draw the inevitable triangle on the printed out map before you’re stopped by the sheriff.

 “Hold it now, sweetheart. Don’t just go markin’ up stuff.”

“I beg your pardon?” You ask with furrowed eyebrows.

“I’m sure the area these women were killed in was just pure coincidence, so we don’t wanna risk coloring in the paper just ‘cause you think you know somethin’.” He spoke as if he knew more than you did like he was the one with the degree, his tone absolutely rolling in condescension. 

“I’m sorry but –” You try to say but the old fart cuts you off. “I’m sure you are –”

“Excuse me, sheriff, but I’m afraid Special Agent _______ made a great point.” Emily was quick to come to your aide, emphasizing the words ‘Special Agent’ just to reinforce her point.

You could see it in her narrowed eyes, and everyone else’s really, that she was about done with the Sheriff’s embarrassingly large ego. You send her an appreciative – albeit shy – smile, and she gets up, her eyes trained on the map as well. 

“She’s right, because if you look here,” She points to the first crime scene and motions for you to draw a mark. “And here,” Her finger trails down to the second location and you follow close behind. “And here.” Her path finally ends, and so does your black ink. 

There it was, just like you had first thought, a perfect triangle connecting them all.

“The most important thing should be right –” You finish her words and color in a big circle in the middle. “Here.” Emily sends you a proud look and it threatens to weaken your knees.

“I mean… I suppose that makes sense.” The man grumbled before leaving with his tail between his legs. 

“Thank you.” You say quietly. The conversation was meant to be kept between the two of you. Of course you loved and trusted everyone on your team, but Emily was your comfort person, and she made time to understand you.

“No problem,” She responds back. “Everyone was done with his shit anyway.”

“Still, thank you.” You pressed the conversation, because you don’t really think she realized the gravity of the situation, of your appreciation. 

For most of your life you had never been given a voice, and having someone stick up for you and even paving the way for you to make your point known was something that no gratitude could give.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[emilys-bangs]

Mom!Emily with a baby girl who’s a little older… maybe 2 or 3, and is entering that stage where she hates when mom leaves for work.

Maybe all 3 of you are at the front door seeing Emily off. Baby girl is just pouting and whining and gripping onto Emily’s pant legs ❤️‍🩹

This broke my heart...but I also loved it <3

tearful goodbyes | e.p

Tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff at the end, mom!emily, no use of yn, use of petnames

Word count: 1.8k

This used to be easier. 

When Emily wasn’t part of a whole, when she didn’t have a ring around her finger and a piece of her heart walking around on little legs and clutching her calves at the door. Leaving used to be a matter of throwing a bag over her shoulder and piling food for Sergio in his bowl. Now it’s tears at the front door, her heart splitting in two as she fights an internal battle she already knows she’s going to lose.

Having a family changed everything. Having you changed everything; Emily’s life shifted, turned on its head when you came into it, and Eloise only added to the light in both of your lives. Two became three, a lonely apartment became a lively one. She wouldn’t change it for the world, but sometimes she wishes it didn’t have to be this hard.

“Eloise,” she says softly over the sound of sobs, “Mommy has to go.”

Emily has to speak past the lump in her throat. It was quick to appear when her daughter wrapped her small hands around her knee, pressing her face into it and soaking Emily’s slacks with her tears. Now Eloise whines, looking up at her mother with tearful eyes that make Emily’s heart twist.

“Mommy stay.” Her lip wobbles.

She’s growing tired of saying I can’t, so Emily bends down and picks her up. Eloise scrambles into her arms, hugging her neck and dampening her skin with her tears. The three-year-old clings to her tightly, arms around her neck and legs around her waist, as if her mother is going off into the trenches rather than the BAU.

Help me, Emily begs you with her eyes, the taste of tears thick in the back of her throat. She rubs absent circles on Eloise’s back as you step closer to them, your hand joining hers.

“Ellie,” you say, catching your daughter’s attention. She turns to you with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “Mommy has to leave for work now, you gotta let her go.” You gently wipe her damp cheek.

“No.” Eloise whines. “Want Mommy to stay.”

“I’ll stay for five minutes,” Emily says, her voice scratchy as she combs through Eloise’s messy hair with her fingers, “and then I have to go, okay? And you have to go to preschool.”

Eloise dissolves into sobs again. “No,” she hiccups, burying her face in Emily’s neck and scorching her skin with her hot tears. You chew on your lip and Emily blows out a breath, shaky as she rocks her flailing daughter.

“Honey, you’ll have fun at preschool. You always do. You’ll get to play with Lily and see Miss Emma.” She desperately tries to soothe. Her voice is on the edge of cracking, frayed and thready from being the reason for Eloise’s meltdown.

This used to be easier.

“Don’t wanna go! Wanna go with you.” Her daughter whimpers. Emily’s heart cracks. 

“Baby…”

It would be so easy. To call Hotch, tell him she’s down with the flu. There’s no case, only a mind numbing day of paperwork ahead, and she can just have JJ swing her case files by after work—

“Okay,” you announce, suddenly waving around a sheet of red heart stickers. “I’ve got an idea.”

Emily frowns. When did you get those? Probably when she’d involuntarily closed her eyes against the sound of her daughter’s tears.

“Hey, Eloise,” you gently smooth some of her hair behind her ear. “Listen to me, baby. Can you give me your hand?” You ask softly, reaching for the hand she has fisted in Emily’s collar. 

Eloise blinks at you with damp eyes. “Mommy will be right here, just give me your hand, honey,” you reassure. Emily nudges her lips against Eloise’s forehead in a kiss, and when you hold your hand out this time, she places hers in your palm.

“Thank you,” you quickly kiss the back of her tiny hand before showing her the pack of stickers you’d gotten. “See these?”

Eloise nods. You peel one of the hearts from the sheet and gently place it on the back of her hand. Both Emily and Eloise peer down at it, their foreheads pressed together as you smooth your thumb over the sticker to make sure it sticks.

You look to Emily when you’re done. “Mommy, can I have your hand, please?” A small smile pulls at your lips.

Emily matches it with a soft one of her own as she shifts Eloise to her other hip and frees her right hand. You take it and place a matching red heart on the back of her hand, right in the middle; it stands out against her pale skin. Again you rub your thumb over it to make it stick, both the action and Eloise’s quieting sniffles making her relax. 

With her hand still in yours, you take Eloise’s too. “See these hearts you and Mommy have?” You ask, holding their hands side by side. Eloise nods into Emily’s neck; your wife smiles, starting to see where this is going. “Whenever you miss her, you can just touch the heart. And when Mommy misses you, she touches her heart. Like this,” you touch your thumb to the heart on Eloise’s hand, smiling at her gently. 

Eloise sniffles. “Mommy’s in the heart?” She looks up at Emily.

“I’m in the heart,” Emily agrees softly, wiping a wayward tear from the corner of her eye. “And you’re in my heart, too, see?” She turns her hand.

Eloise presses her thumb to the sticker. Her pout gives and she smiles, one of Emily’s dimples digging into her cheek. “You’re in the heart!” She giggles, throwing her arms around Emily’s neck again.

“That’s right.” Emily kisses her forehead, the tightness in her chest loosening. Her eyes meet yours and you wink. She blows out a sigh, squeezing her daughter before preparing herself to let go. “I’ll pick you up from preschool today, okay Eloise?”

“Okay Mommy.”

“I’ll see you soon. Be a good girl, sweetheart.” She says as she leans over to you and eases her into your arms. Eloise doesn’t protest this time, settling into your chest quietly as she looks down at the heart.

Emily knows she’s late, but since she already is, she takes a moment to bend down a little, curling her finger gently under her daughter’s chin to tip it up. “I love you, baby,” she murmurs and kisses her cheek as Eloise mumbles a response.

Straightening, Emily reaches for you. “Love you, sweetheart,” she gives you a quick kiss, her hand gratefully squeezing your waist. “You’re a lifesaver.” She breathes; quietly, just for you.

“I know I am,” you wink. Taking her hand off your waist, you gently kiss her ring—your own version of a sticker heart. “Now go, you’re late.”

This time, when Emily reaches for the door, there’s no one there to hold her back. 

“Bye Mommy!” Eloise waves from your arms. You stifle a smile into her hair, your hand lifting in a small wave of your own.

“Bye Eloise.” Emily waves back, her chest squeezing again as she forces herself to step out of the comfort of her home.

She walks into work eight minutes late with a scowl on her face, a damp patch on her clothes, and a red heart on the back of her hand.

“Sorry I’m late,” she mumbles to Hotch when she walks into the round table room. His eyes fall to the heart on her hand and he nods, not giving her any usual reprimand as she takes her seat. Emily’s grateful for that, but while he gets the hint, Morgan doesn’t.

He nudges her when they’re back at their desks. “Hotch didn’t even tell you off today. I think he’s going sweet on you, princess—”

“Not today, Morgan.” She snaps, his teasing tone grating against her nerves. Her mouth sets into a firm line when she catches the picture of you and Eloise on her desk.

He leaves her alone after that.

It’s a paperwork day, and for the first time in ever, she’s glad for it as she sinks into her thoughts. Her pen taps against her file as she replays the morning, rethinks her job, reiterates to herself—or tries to—that it’s just a phase, more to do with her daughter’s clinginess than her work hours. Still, the thoughts don’t leave her. It’s a miracle she manages to get anything done by the time Eloise’s preschool lets out and she’s getting up from her desk, tossing her purse over her shoulder and catching sight of the heart in her hand.

All the tension in her loosens when Eloise skips into her arms, beaming as her pigtails bounce. 

“Mommy!”

Emily scoops her up into her chest. “Hi, baby.” She kisses her forehead, hot from the sun, and shifts her more securely on her hip. “Did you have a good day?”

“Uh-huh,” Eloise says. Her fingers hook in the chain of Emily’s necklace. “Lily got me cookies!”

“Oh, she did? That’s nice, did they taste good?” She asks. Eloise nods happily and Emily tugs gently on a pigtail, “We’ll have to make some and share with her tomorrow, what do you think?”

“With chocolate chips?” Eloise turns her wide eyes to her mother.

“Of course with chocolate chips,” Emily agrees, every muscle unwinding at the sound of her daughter’s sweet voice. “We can’t have cookies without chocolate chips.” They reach the car and she opens the door, settling Eloise into her car seat.

As she buckles her in, Emily catches sight of the heart sticker on the back of her small hand. “So, did you miss me today?” She asks playfully.

“No,” Eloise says.

“Oh.” Emily’s brows furrow. As sweet as her daughter is, she is a toddler, something Emily is reminded of every time she forgets. A chuckle slips past her lips as she shakes her head, “Well, I did—”

“You were here,” Eloise interrupts, pointing to the heart on the back of her hand. 

Emily smiles softly. “That’s right,” she laughs. “I was with you the whole time. But you know what, Ellie Bellie?” Her fingers skate over Eloise’s stomach, gently tickling her until her girl starts laughing, “I still missed you anyway. Even though you were with me.”

Eloise looks up at her as she kisses her forehead. “Missed ’gio,” she says.

“Oh you missed him did you? I can never win when it comes to him.” Emily mock tsks, but she’s smiling as she shuts the back door closed. She slides into the driver’s seat and flicks her eyes up to the rearview mirror, instinctively checking on Eloise as she buckles her seatbelt. She turns on the car and drives off, any remaining tension melting off her body when she catches sight of the ring on her finger, the reminder of you and home just a few minutes away. 

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics

[stayevildarling]

Emily Prentiss x Reader- Breaking Point

A/N: I have just finished watching Season 9, Episode 14 and while watching, I kept thinking about this scenario with reader instead of JJ 🫶🏻

Prompt: The BAU had been working on a case for weeks, so close to finally catching an Unsub before he manages to take you. Emily returns from London as soon as she hears.

tw/tags: mention of unrequited love, mention of abduction, mention of torture, mention of blood, mention of weapons, mention of gunshots, mention of attempted sexual assault, angst/hurt/comfort

word count: 3.5k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahelvar , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples , @stepintomyworld

,,Go home Y/N'' your boss sighs as he notices you still working through files in the late hours of the night, finally some leads on the case the BAU had been working on for several weeks now, this one tougher than any case had been before. You glance at him, your eyes pleading with him but he doesn't budge, knowing you needed the rest, knowing you are essential to the team and needing you bright and early in the morning. ,,That's an order'' he suggests with a raised eyebrow, yet a smile on his face. ,,Okay'' you sigh, before collecting your things. ,,Good night Hotch'' you mumble as you head to the elevators, feeling the effects this case has had on your body and soul.

You had been part of the BAU for years, putting many criminals away but this had been unlike anything you had seen before, several murders of high rank people, either from law enforcement or the military, the team and you assuming this was something far above your paygrades but trying your best nevertheless. As you step into the bustling city, still busy despite it being the middle of the night, you begin making your way home, walking through the streets while glancing at your phone, staring at your home screen and smiling as you see the photo of Emily she had sent you from London months ago. You know you shouldn't have put it as your screensaver but you had missed her terribly, having seen her with Morgan and Penelope a few months back.

But the pain of her departure had lingered, this case numbing the pain at times but as soon as you stepped away from work, she was haunting you again, in your daydreams and at night when you couldn't sleep. Emily and you had been introduced through the BAU, quickly assigned as partners and working cases together, slowly beginning to learn more about each other until you became inseparable. Always having each other's back, always stolen glances and comforting hands resting near each other. And slowly throughout the years you had began to love Emily, never saying a word as you never thought she could love you back, unaware of her feelings for you that had been obvious to everyone besides you both. And when she told you about the job in London and have her leaving to the other side of the ocean, you struggled to cope with the loss of your partner at work and your sun, her undeniably the reason for you to keep going.

You had been struggling with rough cases, unable to have Emily nearby and invite you over for some wine to unwind while you snuggled on her sofa with Sergio. No one to subtly place a hand on your knee when travelling with the jet and some turbulence hit, Emily knowing you hated those especially. And ever since her leaving you hadn't felt complete, drowning yourself in work instead of dealing with the loss of the greatest thing you never really had anyway. But you rather loved her without her loving you back and had her nearby than the occasional calls and texts from afar.

As you carry on walking, distracted with the pain of Emily‘s absence, you dont notice the person having followed you for a few blocks, usually always having your guard up. And before you can react, you feel a piece of fabric on your mouth and nose, trying to escape the person holding you down but before you can even fight back or scream, shadows haunt your vision and make everything black and quiet for a while. You miss the way the same unsub and ultimately organization that the BAU had been chasing for weeks and had captured you, forced you into a van in an alley and taking you away. You miss the way they throw you into a cold and dark room, your legs and hands chained and how the sun had set a while ago as they left you rotting in the abandoned basement, waiting for you to regain consciousness .

„Where is Y/N?“ Morgan asks as everyone gathers in the briefing room, ready to spend another day on catching the unsub that had been taunting them for weeks. „She was here late last night, Garcia try calling her“ Hotch orders and the blonde instantly nods before trying. „Straight to voicemail sir“ she explains, the concern already written on her face as this was highly unusual for you, even when spending hours at night in the office, always back bright and early the next morning. And your boss knew just as much and so without hesitation he glances at Morgan and Blake before ordering them to check your apartment, having a bad feeling, knowing how serious you are about this job and also knowing how serious the people are that they are currently trying to find.

By the time you snap out of it, your breath hitches and you try moving your hands but notice the handcuffs on you. Blinking a few times you try to understand your surroundings a bit better, the only light source a nearby door, some light creeping in from underneath. You try your hardest to get out of the restraints but without success, only adding to the cuts and bruises on your wrist from the small struggle the night before. It doesn‘t take you long to realize who must have taken you and knowing from the other victims that you had less than 24 hours, sincerly hoping your team would connect the dots and find you in time.

And of course they had figured this out, finding your apartment empty and learning from surveillance that you never returned home, retracing your steps and finding your phone broken and smashed in an alley. They are quick to get back to the BAU, informing the necessary departments and working their hardest on solving this and finding you, knowing time is of the essence. „Any news?“ Morgan asks hours later, having gone over the same steps and different approaches for hours. „The state isn‘t very willing to help“ Hotch sighs, knowing they needed more ressources. „Then what are we gonna do? we need to find her“ Garcia urges before he walks away, nodding in agreement. „We call in reinforcements“ he mutters before he calls the one person he knows cares about you enough to help and also has the resources to get them closer to answers.

„Hotch what‘s wrong?“ Emily‘s voice rings through the phone as she stands in her office. „It‘s Y/N, she‘s been taken“ he explains and before he can give her any details she already grabs her belongings. „Brief me on the plane“ she says in determination before instantly getting on a jet and making her way over, ready to drop everything for you at any given moment. And it doesn’t take the team long to brief her about the case while she flies in, Emily using her connections and position to get as much information as possible and shedding some light on some things you hadn’t been able to solve so far.

„Finally awake“ a dark voice mutters and you glance at the person standing in front of you, recognizing him from one of the photos from the files, not a suspect but having some sort of connection to this whole thing. „What do you want?“ you hiss, feeling anger washing over you for how they had taken and beaten you. „We need information“ he calmly explains before he drags you by the cuffs and sits you on a chair. By the time you figure out what they wanted, you knew you are doomed, they had beaten you for hours trying to get answers out of you about the BAU and you ultimately realize that they had been after Hotch and the team and getting access to all the files all along, all the victims so far only a pawn to get to what they truly wanted and access to the FBI databases.

„I‘m not telling you anything“ you hiss, knowing you would rather die than give them anything. You knew the consequences of giving them the codes and information they wanted, knowing it would end up in the wrong hands, knowing it would put so many more lives at risk. „We‘ll see about that“ another one smirks, the two men having taken turns over the past few hours. He grabs a cloth before putting it on your face and grabbing a bucket of water, causing you to choke and the ability to breathe leaving you as panic begins settling in.

„I‘ve got a hit“ Garica screams as she managed to use some of Emily‘s information and the entire team, including the brunette who had landed a few hours ago, instantly by her side. Meanwhile, you struggle to stay concious, your body bruised and tired, blood running down your face from the repeated beating. They had threatened your team and family but not having any family left and knowing everyone at the BAU was safe, knowing they would have figured this out by now, you don‘t give in, knowing other than to you, there was no real danger. And as the fight to stay alive and concious grows harder, your mind takes you back to Emily. Her eyes and how you would so often get lost in them, her soft hands and how they would make you feel safe. In your delusional state, she is right there, telling you it‘s okay and to let go.

You had never fallen for anyone the way you had for Emily. She was your sun on a rainy day, your own guardian angel, always having your back on cases, never letting you walk into a scene alone. You would cry on each other‘s shoulder after a rough case or laugh at silly jokes together and celebrate your successes together. You adored her confidence and how she never backed down in life ever. You loved how fierce and determined, yet truly kind she was. No one in the BAU understood victims the way Emily did, no one comforted them quite like she did and it caused your heart to flutter every single time when witnessing it. And your mind slips to how she may react when hearing this, if you couldn‘t make it out of this alive, wishing and hoping you could have seen her once more and told her all the things you had been too scared to tell her so far.

„She‘s not gonna break“ one of the unsubs sighs in frustration as the other one paces in circles. „We will see about that“ a third one appears, you too far out of it by now to realize what is going on or even attempt to remember their faces and voices or figure out their identities. He walks over with a revolver, dragging you up and pouring a bucket of cold water over you, snapping you out of your state momentarily as the shock takes over. „Answers now“ he demands before he presses the gun firmly to your temples, counting down before holding down the trigger. You had done this sort of stuff in your training before but nothing could have prepared you for how truly terrifying this was, knowing at any given moment it could all be over. The pain in your body and head is overwhelming but still you don‘t break, the determination to keep your family safe and not give them what you had worked years for to protect.

„Fine“ one of them mutters before walking over and messing with his belt, knife in his hand. „Maybe this will get you to loosen up“ he smirks before he begins undressing you, knife pressed firmly against your throat, the blood running down your neck. „Please don’t“ you cry out, internally hating yourself for giving them something, for showing them fear and knowing this was your breaking point. You close your eye and brace for what is about to happen, knowing you would never give them what they wanted and sincerly hoping they would kill you after this as you couldn‘t stand this for much longer.

But just seconds before they manage to succeed and break you, the door bursts open, flashlights momentarily blinding your vision as you hear your teams voices and gunshots seconds later, the unsub dropping to his knees in front of you. „Oh god“ you hear Emily‘s voice as she runs towards you, instantly getting you out of the chains as you collapse into her arms. The shock and pain run so deep that you dont even register who ended up saving you, that the woman of your dreams was truly right there, holding and soothing you as she takes your shivering body into her arms and carries you outside to an ambulance. You are in and out of it for a while, the bright lights from inside the ambulance blinding you, your ears ringing from the sirens but feeling someone holding your hand, assuming it was a member of your team, unaware it was Emily, the concern written deeply on her features as she stays beside you every step of the way.

It takes hours of pain medication, the doctors doing all sorts of checks and you laying in a hospital bed for you to wake up again, greeted by the steady beeping of machines that you are hooked up to and bustling noises from the corridor of the busy hospital. You can still feel the same person holding your hand, wondering as you open your eyes who would have been there this entire time. Once your eyes open, they fall upon Emily, who‘s head rests on your bed, her hand never having stopped to hold yours. She is awake in an instant as she notices the slight tremble in your hand and her features brighten once seeing you awake. „Hi“ she whispers, her eyes brimming with tears, despite trying to hold them in, seeing you so bruised, beaten and hurt. She had always felt protective over you, hating that she let this happen while she was away, consumed by guilt.

„Emily?“ you ask a little confused, your voice still rough from what your body had been through. „I‘m here“ she smiles sadly, her chin quivering ever so slightly. Your eyebrows furrow before you speak again „But why?“ you ask confused, not understanding the connection between the BAU and Interpol for this case. And she can tell, almost smiling at your dorkiness if it wasn‘t for the severity of the situation and the hell they had put you through. „I‘m here for you, silly“ she chuckles a little, squeezing your hand a little tighter and you realize then she had saved you and never stopped holding your hand from the moment you collapsed into her arms until now. You want to speak, ask her why she had gone through such lengths and flown all this way for you but you remain silent.

When your gaze averts hers for a moment, the flashbacks overwhelming you for a second, a thick silence follows, a painful one as Emily can see it in your eyes you are deeply traumatized by what they had done to you. „Honey?“ she snaps you out of it gently before your eyes lock with her own again. „Can I- I ask you something?“ she stutters and you nod weakly before she glances at your body. „Did they- did he?“ she struggles to finish her sentence but you quickly shake your head and she sighs in relief, a tear streaming down her face and with a shaky hand you manage to wipe it away. „Thank you“ you whisper, your voice weak and tired, knowing those words aren‘t enough but for now they are all you can manage. „Always sweetie“ she chuckles before giving you an encouraging nod that you could rest. „How long?“ you mumble as you try and keep your eyes open. „Don‘t worry about that right now, I‘ll be right here when you wake up“ she promises and you nod before letting sleep wash over you again.

And Emily being Emily, she kept her promise, staying by your hospital bed until you were ready to go home, driving you home and looking after you, helping your body and soul recover. She covered for you in the BAU for a while until you were cleared by the doctors, several evaluations later. Currently, the two of you sit in your apartment, after a long day back at the BAU, Emily insisting on accompanying you and making sure it all goes smoothly. Two glasses of wine by your side and a movie playing in the background. Your eyes dart between her and the tv, trying to ignore your racing heart and the familiarity of having her beside you, wishing every evening could look like this.

„Em?“ you ask carefully before her head snaps towards you, a soft smile on her face before concern takes over as she sees the sadness on your face. „What‘s wrong?“ she asks, having been worried about you, knowing what had happened affected you more than you led on. „I was just wondering- when.. when are you going home?“ you ask, her eyes averting yours for a moment as you try and not let your emotions wash over you how you feel about the thought of her leaving. There is silence for a while before she reaches for the remote, pausing the TV and turning her body towards you. „I was talking to Hotch and I was thinking about staying.. for good“ she explains camly, despite the small smile in the corner of her lips. „What?“ you ask confused, your eyebrows furrowing upon hearing her words. „There are several positions for me, including section chief and I miss profiling“ she explains and you listen intently to her every word.

„But what about Interpol and London?“ you ask confused but she shakes her head and chuckles. „I did my fair share there and learnt a lot but.. I think I‘m ready to come home“ she explains, her eyes a little teary. Her words don‘t register properly and so you stammer out a quiet „Are you doing this because of me? because if you are - Emily I‘m fine I promise“. There is silence as she reaches for your trembling hand, taking it into her own before her eyes lock with yours. „I- it is but not because of that“ she explains and yet again your eyebrows furrow in confusion. She knows she should have done this a long time ago, her feelings for you never leaving her, the distance from London to you only making it much harder as she hadn‘t been able to focus on much without you by her side.

„I don‘t want to be so far away from you anymore“ she admits, struggling to lay out her emotions and vulnerable side in front of you. „Emily what are you saying?“ you ask confused as your heart beats considerably faster inside your chest. „Don‘t you know?“ she asks after a pause and the way her eyes sparkle and her hand holds onto you, it suddenly makes sense. Why she came in the first place and why she hadn’t left your side. She cared and loved you just as much as you loved her. „I do- I just can‘t believe you..“ you answer but pause, the words too raw and scary to be said. „That I love you? because Y/N I do“ she admits, suddenly a completely different side to Emily, her usual carefulness and vulnerability replaced with an openness that takes your breath away.

Your eyes fill with tears, never having thought the events from the last few weeks would lead to this. „I love you Emily“ you admit in return, your eyes speaking to each other and your hearts beating in synch. At first your eyes dance together before the gap between you closes, letting out all the raw emotions and whispered confessions, the fear of this not being requited go. But the two of you leave it at this for now, knowing this was only the beginning of what you two deserved. „Come here“ she orders as she sees your tear stained vision, holding you in her arms. The two of you lay together in silence, soaking up each other‘s warmth and what neither of you had allowed to happen in the past few years. „You okay there sweetheart?“ she asks after several hours of comfortable silence and you nod into her chest before she sees a cheeky smirk on your face.

„What?“ she asks with a raised eyebrow before you mumble „If getting taken means this then I‘ll gladly volunteer again“ you joke but she doesn‘t laugh, this being too soon and too raw still. „Too soon?“ you ask with a pout and half smirk and she nods before kissing your forehead. „Definitely too soon but I adore you silly“ she smiles. And the two of you stay this way, neither of you letting go, knowing now that the truth is out there, you wouldn‘t leave each other ever again, Emily finally having found her true home and purpose, you.

[thir10th]

sneak out - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

summary: It's your first case as a couple, you're worried about sleeping by yourself so Emily sneaks out to your room tw: no smut, just fluff, no proofread 'cause i'm tired a/n: another little drabble because you guys LOVED the last one, and i love writing them too. Enjoy, like & reblog <3

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You rest your head on your hand, almost lying on the table of the bullpen. You had arrived very early that morning, so you're lacking some rest. You close your eyes remembering how your morning had gone.

°.•☆•.°

you opened your eyes at the sound of a phone rigning, too loud for your liking, considering you had been awake too late with your girlfriend. The black haired woman still wrapped around you, her naked body pressed against your back, her arm pulling you to her chest, she groans at the sound of the phone ringing, you take it, checking to make sure you grabbed the correct one, seeing it's emily's you pass it to her.

still without opening her eyes, she unwraps her arm off your waist and takes the phone from your hand answering it

"Prentiss... Ok, yeah, I'll be there as soon as i can" she sounds sleepy even to you, she hangs up the phone, angrily placing it on the bedside table, and turning around again to wrap herself around you. again, pulls you even closer to her chest and you hug her arm closer to you

"I don't want to go" she says kissing your shoulder sweetly, and you turn around, swifting to face her "me nether, but they're waiting for us" you kiss her sweetly, and she finally opens her eyes, smiling at you

"you know" you say, running a hand through her hair "this is our first case as a couple"

"yeah, are you excited?" she says rising her eyebrows suggestively, it makes you chuckle

"to be honest, i kind of am, i know it's stupid, nothing changes but-" she interrupts you before you can go on

"oh no, stop, it's not stupid, everything has changed" she says moving a strand of your hair behind your ear, caressing the side of your face

"nether of us have to go back to an empty room, no one to talk to, no one to hug... no one to kiss" she kisses you sweetly, her hand still on your face

"i don't want to spend tonight alone" you confess "we've slept in the same bed this whole week, i don't know if will resist" she looks at you with her big brown eyes staring into yours. There's definitely no way you could sleep without her.

"I can come to your room, it sounds exciting actually, you know, the sneaking around, all that" the grin on her face showing her excitment

"ok, thank you" you share another kiss before another phone starts ringing again, this time it's yours, Emily grumples but despite your girlfriend's complains you pick up "hey JJ, i'll be on my way"

°.•☆•.°

"hey, you ok? I got you a coffee" the sweet voice of your girlfriend makes you open your eyes, her sweet smile makes your heart malt, she caresses your back softly, setting the warm coffee mug next to you, and sitting beside you, her hand doesn't leave your back, tracing soft circles soothingly

"are you alright?" she says, you cover your face with your hand, frustration all over your shoulders

"yeah, just really tired, and I still feel like we're missing something here you know?" you take a sip of your coffee, you love how she always gets it right "hey, it's ok" Emily is cut off before she can finish, Hotch and Rossi enter the room and you shoot away from each other

°.•☆•.°

thankfully, Hotch decides to call it for the day, sending you all to the hotel to sleep and start fresh on the morning, after the check-in you can't believe your bad luck

your room and Emily's are on opposite ends of the long hallway on that hotel, meaning she would have to pass next to everyone's rooms to get to yours.

You're waiting there, sitting on the bed, with your face between your hands, thinking about the day, the case, how nothing was making sense, how an angry victim's father had yelled at you in frustration, everything was being too much.

Right when tears are about to stream down your face, you hear a double knock on your door, and you know your girlfriend is on the other side of that door

You shoot up from the bed, going to open the door. Emily slides in as soon as you unlock it

"i think i heard a noise coming from Spencer's door i thought he was gonna catch me" you cut her numbling by wrapping your arms around her neck in a much needed hug, she surrounds your waist immediately, pulling you against her body, she kisses the side of your face

"hey, everything ok?" she asks concerned on her sweetest voice.

"yeah, now that you're here" you say, connecting your lips to hers in a sweet kiss, her hands still wrapped around your waist

"I just really needed you" you confess, and she kisses you again, her soft lips brushing against yours

"so you said you heard Spencer?" you ask, trying to lighten the mood, you peck her lips

"yeah, you know how he's a light sleeper, and a night owl, i run does the hallway when i heard it" she chuckles, and kisses you again.

you ly your head on her shoulder, your arms still holding tight around her neck, holding her as close to you as you can. You inhale deep, the scent of her shampoo bringing you a sense of comfort.

"hey, c'mon I'll help you undress, you're still on your clothes" you had almost forgotten, but she's right, you hadn't even taken your boots off

She swats your ass softly, finally letting go of her, you sit on the bed, this time the pressure isn't there anymore, just her hand holding yours, her smell on the air, her smile directed at you.

Emily flops herself onto the bed, in what little space you had left. She kicks off her shoes and unbuckles her belt.

"c'mon babe, take your shoes off" she says, nudging your side.

you fall back into the bed, starfished out, exhaustion taking over your body again

"I will let you use me however you want if you take them off for me" you say, chuckling, looking at your girlfriend.

"well you pretty much do already, don't you?" she laughs

"I will let you chose the movie the next time and i'll lose my turn" that seems to convince her, as she takes your feet onto her lap, she begins loosening your boots one lace at a time.

When they are finally loose enough, you kick them off and groan at the freedom your feet feel.

"can you take care of your pants by yourself or do you need help with those too?" she says, the same grin as always on her face

"i could use some help with those too, if you don't mind" you tease

"ok, come here" she taps her lap, you sit straight and move to straddle her, trapping her neck between your arms once again, you peck her lips

Her skilled fingers unbuckle your pants, and you stand up to help her pull them down. You return to your position with her waist between your legs, and you bury your head on her neck

"I never want to let go off you" you whisper on her ear, kissing her head, her earlobe, inhaling her lavender scent

"shh" she soothes you "I'm not going anywhere"

Emily grabs the hemline of your shirt, sliding it off your arms, and moves to kiss your collarbone sweetly, her contact is always so soft you melt against her lips

You do the same, unbuttoning the buttons on her shirt one by one, you, kissing her lips every time another button is freed, until you take it off of her completely,

One by one every article of clothing is removed, leaving both of you stripped to only your underwear, you decide it's good enough

Emily slips away from you to turn off the lights and pull the curtains close, as you shuffle to get under the covers

She stands there for a moment to admire you, smile wide as she moves to get under the covers with you

She shuffles in the bed behind you and you turn around to face her, her arms wrap around your waist.

Being the lover of skin on skin contact that she is, she pulls you in an even tighter embrace, her bare chest against yours.

She kisses your lips, your face, your cheek, your forehead, her featherlight kisses making you forget every worry, every bad thought of the day

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks, always so careful to make sure you're ok with it

"No, i just want to stay like this for a while if that's ok"

"yes, of course" she says, kissing your lips "I'm not going anywhere"

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this one is messy, i know. I hope you guys still like it <3

I love writing these so if you still like them, i will make more! you can request stuff like this if you want me to do something in parrticular.

(also i might do a part 2 of this one if i see you guys like it)

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Coming Out

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: some explicit language, mention of an unsub hurting Emily 😱, vague insinuations of homophobia, mostly fluff on fluff, feat. loyal himbo Derek Morgan Word Count: 2k

Summary: Emily gets injured on the job, and all she really wants is you, her girlfriend. But she's not out to the rest of the team yet. Can she be vulnerable enough to share that part of herself with the team? Can she be vulnerable enough to let you take care of her? Takes place at the end of S3.E2.

Emily dabbed at her head and winced, checking her watch to see if it had been long enough to take more pain medication. But despite getting clocked with a plank of wood, she was glad to be on the jet, glad to be back with her team because they really were starting to feel like her team. Who was she kidding? She loved her job.

According to the pilot, the team would be landing at Quantico in a little over an hour. Emily grabbed her phone, discreetly shoving it into her pocket, before heading to the back of the plane. She needed to call you, but the rest of the team didn't know about you yet. Hell, the rest of the team didn't even know she was gay. It felt too personal, and she'd been hurt by people's reactions–people she loved and trusted deeply–too many times. She played her relationships and her sexuality close to the vest.

Reid tapped Emily's arm as she passed by.

"Oh! Are you going all the way to the back?"

Emily tensed. "Yep."

"Could you bring me a Sprite?"

She felt her shoulders relax, and she patted Reid on the arm. "Sure."

After knocking on the bathroom door to make sure that truly no one was around, she called you, her voice hushed as she rifled through tiny airplane soda cans, looking for Reid's Sprite.

"Hey, Em," you said, your voice bright.

"Hey," she said, a goofy smile spreading across her face. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing much. Saw a street rat earlier. I named him Guillermo. I think he's on the prowl for a girlfriend."

Emily laughed, covering her mouth.

"How was Milwaukee?" you asked.

"Good. Really good. We got the guy. We're on the plane now."

She could nearly hear how smug you were through the phone.

"You're glad you went back," you snickered, relishing in being right. She'd sworn that it wasn't a big deal, that it'd be easy to get another good job, but you knew her heart was with the BAU.

Emily sighed. "I am. You were right."

"You're gonna stay?"

"Looks that way."

"I knew it!" you crowed. "I'm glad. You're too good at your job to quit it."

"Thanks, love. Listen, Y/N, can I ask you a favor?"

"Of course! Anything."

Emily winced, touching the swollen bump on her head. "We land in about an hour. Can you pick me up and stay at my place tonight?"

"Wow." You drew out the vowel, milking the fact that Emily needed you for once. "You missed me that much, huh?"

"Well, yes, of course, but... I, uh... I kind of have a concussion?"

Your tone shifted immediately from smug to concerned. "What?! Why?! What happened!?"

"Unsub hit me with a plank of wood," she admitted reluctantly.

"Jesus Christ, Em! Are you okay!?"

"I'm fine, baby, I promise," she reassured you. "I just got a little banged up, that's all. But I'll need you to wake me up every few hours and make sure I'm cognizant."

"I think I have some soup in the freezer," you observed, your voice far away. You'd put her on speakerphone to rifle through the cabinets. "And I have a thermometer. I don't know, do concussions cause fevers? I've never had one."

Emily shook her head, smiling. She loved that your first response, always, was to take care of her. Emily was not used to being taken care of, and she didn't let many people do it. She certainly wouldn't let many people see it either. But she let you.

"No thermometers needed. Just you and your car and more you when we get home."

"You got it. When did you say you land?"

"In about an hour."

"Okay. I'll leave in a few."

"Oh," Emily added quickly. "And you're cleared to drive into Quantico. They know the car you drive and they've got your ID on file. Just show it to them at the gate."

You paused. "Well, that's a little Big Brother of them."

"I gave it to them a few months ago. Just in case you ever needed to come by. Sorry, I should've told you."

"It's okay," you decided, pulling on a jacket and a beanie. "It feels kind of badass to be on Quantico's list."

Emily laughed, almost excited to have a concussion because it meant you'd be snuggled right up to next to her for however long it took to get better. 48 hours at least.

"Alright, baby," she finished, Reid's Sprite in hand. "I'll see you in a bit."

"Bye, love."

Emily wiped the grin off her face before returning to the cabin with Reid's Sprite–it'd look suspicious if she was too happy coming back.

An hour later, the team was going their separate ways in the parking lot, waving goodbyes and slamming car doors under the buzzing lights.

Emily leaned on the wall outside the building entrance, relishing the crisp night air.

"You need a ride, Prentiss?" Morgan asked as he walked out, used go-bag slung over his shoulder. "You shouldn't be driving" He pointed to her head.

"No, that's okay," Emily waved him off. "I've got– uh... someone's... picking me up."

Fuck, she thought. The concussion was not helping her ability to lie well.

Morgan stared at her suspiciously.

"What?" Emily laughed, trying to act normal.

"Why are you acting shifty?"

"I'm not!" she protested.

Morgan smirked and waggled his eyebrows. "Do you have a secret boyfriend?"

"What?" Emily said, laughing a little too forcefully. "No!"

He crossed his arms and waited. "You're seriously not gonna tell me?"

Emily leaned against the brick wall, rubbing her forehead. On the one hand, she was tired of keeping you–and herself–a secret. And if anyone was going to be supportive of someone on the team getting laid, it would be Morgan. But on the other, did she really know that much about him? She didn't know his religious background. Sure, he'd defend a gay victim, but that was his job. This was personal.

Emily sighed before replying. "I have... I have a secret girlfriend."

The silence felt like it lasted hours, stretching between them until Emily was sure the chasm would never close again, and that with just a few words, just by being herself, she'd ruined any chance of a friendship with Derek Morgan. It wouldn't be the first time. It probably wouldn't be the last.

Morgan seemed to think deeply before leaning against the wall next to Emily, turning to look her in the eye.

"Prentiss, why didn't you tell us you were gay?"

Emily was afraid to look at him, but when she did, her heart soared. He looked at her with nothing but love and respect and appreciation, no hint of hatred or disgust. If anything, he looked sad that she'd waited so long to tell him.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I don't always get a good reaction."

"Well, you know nobody on this team would have a problem with that, right? Hell, Garcia'd probably hang pride flags everywhere."

"I know," Emily nodded. "I just... I don't think I'm ready yet. For everyone to know. Soon, though."

Morgan nodded, then thought for a few minutes before asking, "Is it serious?"

Emily chuckled. "Being gay? Yeah, I'd say so."

Morgan shoved her shoulder gently, mindful of the day's injuries. "No! The girl! How long have you been seeing her?"

"A little over six months."

"So, it's serious."

Emily grinned. She was glad to have someone to talk to about this. She'd held it so close for so long. She wasn't used to having anyone to tell about you. Maybe Morgan could be that person.

"Promise not to tell the others?"

Morgan put his hand over his heart. "Promise."

"I'd marry her tomorrow if she'd let me."

"Wow." Morgan raised his eyebrows, smiling lightly. "Prentiss is in love," he said, teasing her.

Emily fought a wide smile, but lost in the end. "Oh, shut up. And don't tell anyone. Especially her."

"Your secret's safe with me," Morgan reassured her. And she could tell he meant it. Emily trusted him, she realized. She trusted him to be a good friend, to keep her secrets. She trusted him not to out her to the rest of the team. He'd let her go at her own pace when it came to telling the others.

"She better be amazing," Morgan added. "I don't know how anyone could be good enough for you."

Just at that moment, a pair of headlights crept slowly into the parking lot, hesitant and unsure. It had to be you. Emily stepped forward and waved a bit, then turned to Morgan.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow?" she said.

"Not with that head, you won't," Morgan observed.

You put the car in park next to the curb and leapt out of the driver's seat, hurrying over to Emily.

"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, anger and concern washing over you. "I thought you you said you were fine!"

You gingerly touched Emily's face and pulled her head down to examine the butterfly bandage above her eyebrow.

"Look at this," you grumbled, more to yourself than anyone else. "It's already bruising." You glared at the butterfly bandage. "Did a doctor do this or you? If it was you, I think we should clean it with rubbing alcohol at home."

Morgan looked absolutely delighted, both because you seemed like a delightful person and because Emily was beet red at being observed with you.

"Y/N, I'm fine," Emily said firmly, grasping your fingers in hers and removing them from her face. "This is my colleague Derek Morgan. Morgan, my girlfriend, Y/N."

You looked Morgan over and immediately decided you liked him. Mostly because you could tell that he really cared about Emily. But also because he looked mischievous, like he'd tease her. And if there was anything you loved, it was teasing Emily. You shook his hand enthusiastically. "It's really nice to meet you," you said. And you meant it.

But you didn't have time to chat with Morgan tonight. You were too worried about Emily.

"You don't look fine," you argued, looking to Morgan for backup. "Does she look fine to you?"

Morgan grinned at Emily, raising his eyebrows. "She definitely looks like she could use some TLC."

"Oh, and she'll get it alright," you assured him, opening the passenger door for Emily. "Shall we?"

Emily bent gingerly to get into the car, and you were careful to guard her head from the ceiling.

"Derek, it was really nice to meet you," you said, shaking his hand one more time for good measure as Emily rolled down the window, staring bullets at Morgan.

"You too, Y/N," he said, looking over your shoulder at Emily. "I hope you all have a very marry evening."

Emily pointed at him aggressively behind your back, mouthing, "SHUT. UP."

"See you, Prentiss," he called as you pulled away. He laughed and called out, "I hope it's a real honeymoon from work!"

Emily's hand shot out the window, flipping him off.

Later that night, your alarm buzzed and you blinked awake. You forgot for a moment that you were at Emily's, but her strong arms wrapped protectively around your waist were enough to remind you where you were.

You turned slowly to face a sleeping Emily, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Em. Hey. You gotta wake up, honey."

She groaned, placing a hand on her head.

"Sorry," you grimaced. "Gotta make sure your brain's alright."

"My brain is fine," she growled.

"Oh, yeah?" you joked, checking the time before shaking a few pills into your hand from the pill bottle on the nightstand. "Who am I, then?"

"The love of my life, Whitney Houston."

You laughed, which made Emily laugh, too. But she quickly doubled over in pain, groaning.

"Here, take these," you said gently, handing her the pills and a glass of water. "It'll help."

She took the pills obediently and lay back down.

"You know," you said, pulling up the blankets to make sure they covered Emily's shoulders. "I may not be Whitney Houston..." You wrapped your arms around her and drew her to you, and she burrowed her head into the space between your neck and your collarbone.

"But I think I'm a close second," you finished, running your fingers rhythmically through Emily's hair.

She sighed contentedly, pressing into you, then moving one of your arms to wrap it more tightly around her.

"Why are you so good to me?" she asked, quiet. You couldn't quite tell if it was a joke or serious, but you'd reply the same either way.

"Because I love you, you nerd."

She leaned up, planting a kiss underneath your chin. "I love you, too."

Within minutes she was conked out again, and you were setting another alarm, ready to do it all over again in a few hours.