#they love lesbians so bad

[yaoifuldnp]

what i love about dnp is how much they say lesbian like they are NOT afraid to say it they LOVE lesbians and it makes me so so happy like so many ppl believe lesbian is a dirty word or dance around it but they love their lesbian audience so much

[krussyarts]

So that act 2 huh

(original doodle + smth extra under cut)

The gang! "Huh", "wake me up inside by evanescence", "do yuo hav gamez on ur phobne" and "i brought a gun to the rave" anywayy i drew them together

[rebelsafoot]

i took out the other people sitting at the table in the original comic because i did NOT want to draw glindas gay ass friends

[smokestarrules]

gotta say I am a huge sucker for how Adventure Time will sometimes just cut to Princess Bubblegum doing something extremely morally dubious like cutting off a tiny person’s limbs with scissors and then sticking those arms and legs onto another tiny person’s limb stumps but then she'll turn around and go like "Good morning, Finn! Are you ready for a sploinking day?" and whatever atrocities she had just been committing will Never be brought up again.

[autonomyofadeer]

autonomy lesson -♡-

summary >;< inexpirienced reader is going through ovulation week, but this time your gf sev is here to expirience it all.

warnings >;< fingering, praise, sweet sappy stuff, first time with her, overstimulation, squirting, female reader x female sevika

its a monday morning, the clock reads 6:47 am. you turn over to your gf laying in your bed. suddenly a warm feeling pools in your stomach as a sudden ache blossoms at your core. a soft groan escapes from your lips as sevika shifts her legs, brushing up against your own.

you quietly move out of bed, tucking the blanket back over her. as she cuddles up into the blanket, you stumble off to the bathroom. you pull out your phone and as you open your period tracker, the notification pops up.

*reminder, ovulation week starts today!*

you palm your face as you slip your hands down to your sides. your hands bracing onto the edge of the sink as you look at your reflection. face sweaty, hair disheveld, shirt missing. you splash water onto your face to try and regain your composure.

a knock at the door snaps you out of it.

"y/n? you in there baby?" sevika speaks into the door in a hushed tone with her hand on the doorknob.

you bite your lip, questioning if you should answer her or not. "y-yeah! im in here sev-" you mumble out into the silence.

the door suddenly opens, but you put your body next to it to block it. "im- uh im busy!" you tell her, a miserable excuse.

sevika, not believing your bullshit. "i can tell you're not." as she huffs a breath of annoyance.

you step aside, further back into the bathroom as sevika enters, her frame cowering over you.

"somethin' up baby?" she tells you as she wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you into her chest. a small whimoer escapes your lips. your senses seem to be heightened, everything is more there than they were the other days.

sev raises her brow at this but brushes it off. she leans down to kiss you on your forehead, leaving a mark where her lips previously were. as she pulls back she notices how flushed you look.

"are you okay baby? i mean you look-"

you cut her off by slamming your lips into hers, a groan cut off in her throat. she hikes you up onto the counter, her large hands grasping and palming at your thighs. your hands travel up her chest and into her hair, tugging slightly.

sev pulls away, you both gasp for air. "woah- what's up with you?" she asks with a chuckle.

your face flushes from embarassment, you pull out your phone and show sev the notification from your tracker app. sev's face flushes a tinge of pink for a moment as her pupils dilate.

"aw you poor baby. need somethin' to help yeah?" she almost mocks you.

you nod your head, whimpering a 'mhm' under your breath as she slips your bra off and down your arms until it's scattered on the floor somewhere. her lips trail down from your collarbone down to your perky nipples. she wraps her lips around your right one, suckling gently as she rolls your other between her fingers.

sweat beads up on your skin as your breaths turn into ragged whimpers. a wetness pools in your panties as you shift your thighs together to relieve the pain.

sevika pulls her head back with a pop, a trail of saliva dripping down your breast. she rubs your hip with her palm. "need somethin' baby?" she whispers to you.

frantically, you nod your head, begging her to touch you. "uh-uh. words baby." she tells you, her voice sultry and deep.

"please- please sev i want you- need your fingers please" you whimper to her.

"there she is.." she groans out as she slips your shorts off, the smell of arousal filling her nostrils. she slips her fingerpads down, trailing along your stomach until they reach the band to your panties. she rubs your clit through the damp fabric. a soft groan can be heard from her lips.

you moan out, leaning your head back against the mirror. sev leans in, kissing and biting your neck and your shoulders as she slips her hand inside your panties. she lazily circles around your clit until you're mewling for her.

"pl-lease- oh fuck" you gasp as she dips her middle finger into your hole. she waits a moment until shes thrusting in and out of you. soft ragged moans leave your lips. your legs wrap around her waist as she curls her fingers upright into your perfect spot.

a exasperated moan leaves your lips as you lean forwards and kiss sevika hard and passionately, her tongue slipping into your mouth. the sounds in the room are unholy at most, saliva slipping down both of your chins, wet squelching sounds from her fingers in your arousal, moans coming from both of you.

"oh god- gonna- mmhm!" you gasp for air as shes slipping another finger inside, curling them both at just the right moment. stars start to appear in the corners of your vision as you approach your orgasm.

"y'close f'me? yeah baby?" sev coos to you as she quickens her pace, leaning down and gently biting your nipples. this was the tilting point for you.

your vision is blinded by white hot pleasure, coursing through your body. a small splash of liquid settle itself against the counter and sevikas hand.

small whispers of praises drag you back down to earth as a wet rag is pressed against your core. you groan in overstimulation, trying to press sevikas arm away but to no avail.

she coos sweet nothings to you until the rag is removed and tossed into the laundry basket.

"princess did so well f'me.." she whispers to you as she slips your clothes back on. she picks you up, your arms wrapping around her neck as she carries you both back to bed.

you immediately snuggle back up into her chest as before. her arms looping aeound you, pulling you in close. she nuzzles her nose into your hair and inhales. you both close your eyes as you bask in the moment.

"love you baby." sevika murmurs to you as you drift off back into sleep.

[froglover7789]

every iteration of the doctor can be categorized into two categories: dyke and twink

[starryeyesmasc]

fuck it. thinking about a girl riding my strap when she figures out how desperate I am to cum just from fucking her.

her hips rock again and she stretches, slick and glistening, around the head of the strap. I whine as I watch her sink down fully, but I can’t move to touch her how I’d like. my hands are neatly tied to the headboard, courtesy of the girl on my lap right now. she laughs at the painfully turned on expression on my face.

“awww. what’s up, darling?” she coos, sighing as she works herself slowly up and down the length of silicone. “am I teasin’ you? is someone getting a little flustered down there?”

any answer I might’ve been able to give fizzles out when she props a hand on my chest to pick up her pace. I drop my head back against the duvet and groan as the orgasm I’d been rapidly nearing comes steaming back. we’ve been at this for at least an hour, and she’s already cum at least three times. all without letting me cum once. I’m struck wordless, desperate, by the sheer weight of my desire for her. so when she begins to lift again I shake my head and whine.

“no, please. please please please.”

she grins and shunts her hips back down fully, completely swallowing up the ruined strap. it’s the visual of her cum from two orgasms ago smearing into my boxers that makes me arch and jolt.

“fuck—oh fuck, I can’t—m’gonna—fuck—”

for one blessed moment, I think she’s going to finally let me cum. then she laughs again and I feel her teeth nip against my neck. “so fuckin’ eager to please, aren’t you? are you actually gonna cum just from this?”

something snaps above me. I don’t need to look up to know I broke the headboard; I felt the tension holding my hands loosen. but before I can move to touch her, a nimble hand pins my wrists above my head.

“ah-ah. no, darling. you look so good and pretty right now. I’m not done usin’ you yet. you just stay still and let me—oh, awww. are you crying? need to cum that badly, do you? fuck, babe. you’re so, so desperate to be good for me, aren’t you?”

I nod instantly; squirming against the euphoric precipice she had me balanced on.

“please,” I sob. “please, fuck, please.”

“well go on then.” she rolls her hips and the sound makes me moan. “be my good desperate slut. cum for me.”

there’s something missing, and she knows it too. she’s just waiting to drag the answer free and I’m too whiny to hold out. her smirk turns wicked and she gives my hands a little shove into the bed.

“but that’s right. you can’t, can you? you need to watch me fuck myself on you again, babe?”

even as she says it, her hips slide back into motion. up, down, languid, just how I like. I’m a horse in the gates, a pulse in the veins, raring to go. all I need is one last push. she pauses when she sinks to the bottom to roll her swollen clit under her fingertips and her head tilts back as her eyebrows furrow.

“mhmm. fuck, you fill me up so fucking much. I could sit right here for hours. c’mon, babe. I know I nearly have you. close those pretty eyes and give me what I want.” she starts into motion again, and this time it’s rough. chasing release. her hips slamming down into mine with slick, wet sounds. she lowers her mouth to my straining neck. “fucking give it to me. cum for me. cum for me.”

her words push me to breaking point, but it’s her low moan in my ear and the resulting wetness dripping into my boxers that sets me off like it always does. I finally hit that sunlit peak and I arch into the golden heat of it as everything in my body freezes in adoration of her. offering up my orgasm to the goddess above me. she can take it, I have no need for it. it’s all for her, every ounce of me. I come down from it slowly, twitching as I pant and whine underneath her. a hand slips over my cheek and her careful thumb strokes my cheekbone.

“there. hey, shhh. there we go. so good. oh, you just couldn’t hold on, could you? my poor girl. yeah, I got you. I’ve got you.”

I squirm again, trying to steal another orgasm while I’m still hazy from the first, but she tightens her grip and holds me steady.

“ah. where’re you goin’? that’s just one. I told you, I’m not done with you yet. I wanna see exactly how much I can make you cum without even touching you.”

[corwnvus]

I've been obsessed with drawing lily lately, so enjoy!

[ellies-bite]

uhhhhh sevika but she's sooooo uhhhhh she likes holding girls up with her mech arm and yk uhhh fucking them with her real arm uhhh post send tweet uhhhhh

cw: smut?? idk. also it's really bad, I just need to clean my drafts 😣 be nice or I'll kms

Metal fingers dug into the plush of your thigh, moan after moan being torn from your throat, Sevikas flesh fingers curling and uncurling from deep in your cunt, soaking the skin of her hand.

Sevika's metal fingers gripped your plush thigh, sending a delicious chill down your spine, the thought of her strong enough to pin you against the wall was making you wetter by the second.

Her fingers worked you over, sliding in and out of your dripping cunt with a hunger that matched your own. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans mixing with the wet squelches of her fingers diving deep inside you.

Her body pressed against yours as she held you against the wall, the metal arm providing an unyielding grip that made you feel completely at her mercy. The way she moved inside you, the pressure, the speed—it was driving you insane.

You felt every damn thing as she fucked her fingers in and out if you.

As Sevika's movements became more urgent, more focused, you knew you were about to lose it. Your whole body tensed, your breath hitched, and then it hit you like a wave, moaning her name as you came on her fingers.

chat this is so bad pls be nice 😣 I need her so bad, gotta 9 on her 11 so she never forgets or smth. send me requests!!!!! also, I never know how to end these.

[paladinviper]

GUYS GUYS GUYS

HER HANDS I CANT DO THIS

( my pics )

[elainiisms]

shoutout to my girls who are stupid!!! my girls who never know what is going on ever! my girls who constantly feel useless! my girls who feel like a burden to their friends! my girls who are embarrassed of themselves all the time! i love you more than anything in the world!!! idc if you can't do simple addition, idc if you can't touch an oven without burning the house down, i want to kiss you on the lips!!!!

[breelynnxoxoxoxo]

When Adoration Turns To Lustful Passion 🖤🖤🖤

[ashlynlovestlou]

🌙 ANON HAS RETURNED!!!

So… cute, soft, wholesome, passionate smexy time with Ellie 🙏

- 🌙

hi anon!! glad to have u back :))

cw: soft fluffy smut , ellie and reader are in college , strap usage , pet names

masterlist

you were beyond stressed, and ellie wanted to be the one to help you.

it started with finales week. studying for weeks before each test, and cramming the night before. ellie was beyond worried about you. you lost hours of sleep, and you studied more than you ate.

it took you a lot of convincing to let her drag you away from your computer. so now, you were both laying in her bed.

usually, when the two of you were intimate, it was rough and hard. but due to recent events, ellie was taking her time with you.

you were cuddled up next to her, her arms holding you tightly and her strap slowly and softly rutting into you. it wasn't often that you two were in this position. usually she have you on your knees or legs in the air. but she's holding you. genuinely, actually holding you.

"you feel that, bunny?" she coos softly, pushing your sweaty hair out of your eyes for you. the silicon cock was slowly pushing in and out of your cunt, the tip kissing the spongy part of your cervix, "aww, baby. your pretty clit is swollen. want me to take care of her for you?"

you nod with your eyes closed. she snakes her hand between your bodies, rubbing slow and sensual circles around your puffy clit. the motion and pressure on your soft skin makes your body jolt, but you start to meet her thrusts halfway. both of you moan in unison.

the base of the strap rubs against ellie's clit just right, and she's tempted to speed up, but she doesn't, reveling in the slow and soft intimacy the two of you share.

"you feeling good, baby?" she asks you quietly, pressing a tender kiss to your jawline. you nod, your cunt clenching around her thick strap. she notices how it gets harder to move, but she doesn't stop, "you're close, babe. you gonna come for me, hm?"

"el– ellie–"

"i know, honey. give it to me." she says, pinching your clit and quickening the speed of her hips. you groan her name, your skin becoming more sensitive the closer and closer you get to your high.

when it finally crashes over you, your entire body convulses and shakes, but ellie uses her strong arms to keep you from wriggling.

"theeeere you go... good fucking girl." she kisses all over your face, fucking you through it. once it's done you tap her arm twice to let her know (a little habit the two of you developed, because usually she'd fuck you so hard you couldn't form words).

she carefully pulls out, the warm fullness feeling cold and empty. you're both out of breath, your sweaty bodies squeezed against each other.

"i love you, baby." she coos quietly, kissing you gently and brushing your sweaty hair out of your face.

you nod, the corners of your lips upturning into a smile, "love you, el."

[autonomyofadeer]

pass her aroun' like a toy.

! nsfw ! ambessa x sevika x female reader

summary -;- you're a brothel worker, planned to have a night with your regular. but your time seems to be cut short as a woman you were terrified of walks in.

tags -;- dom!sevika, dom!ambessa, really dark, spit roasting, dark aspects, bdsm, passing around sorta, strap usage, slapping/hair pulling, squirting, cigarette burn, initial carving

you're clocking in to your shift at the brothel, greeting babette as you stride to the dressing rooms alongside the bar area. it was a normal day in zaun, no sounds from jinx or her people. no sounds from piltover or whatever they choose to be called. you couldn't be bothered by the current politics.

you slip out of your everyday clothes, adorning your body in a thin lace thong with a bow on the back and a bra that barely covered your perky nipples. you fluff up your hair, reaplying your makeup and adding extra setting spray. you had a session with sevika, knowing her usual, it was gonna be a rough night for you.

babette rings the bell, signaling that she was here for you.

you stroll into your room, pulling back the curtain as your gaze locks on her. her hair is shorter than last time, a new piercing shines in the light below her lip line. you raise an eyebrow at this but you bite back any remarks.

"baby.." sevika coos to you, clouding your mind almost instantly. she lifts her hand, spreading her legs as she curls her finger at you, signaling you to come sit. and of course you abide by her request.

you sit down on her thigh, facing her. "you look pretty.. with the new haircut." you mumble to her as you admire the new prominent blue scar on her cheek. you run your fingers along it, eluding a shiver from her.

she grabs your hand and places a kiss on the top of it. "been needin' you so bad today baby." she practically groans in your ear. she litters kisses and soft bites across your neck as you lean back, a soft moan finding its way out of your mouth. sevika bites down on top of your jugular, causing a spike in your heart rate.

you know she would never hurt you, but it still frightened you. one of the most powerful women of zaun, ever since silco died, right here in your lap. who wouldn't be nervous?

you're suddenly yanked out of your thoughts as you feel teeth graze your nipple. your hands find their place on sevika's shoulders as she continues to suckle on your now hardened nipples.

a damp patch grows in your panties, you start to softly grind against her jeans as you angle your clit just right. she moves her hand onto your hip, halting your movements for a minute before she rolls her thigh upwards. a moan drags from your lips into the air.

"so pretty f'me.." she exhales as she picks up a cigarette, lighting it swiftly as she leans back to take in your disheveled appearance. a faint blush rises on your cheeks.

sevika balances her cigarette netween her lips as she puffs out smoke into your face. it's almost intoxicating.

she flips you up and over in one motion, your ass up and face down in the pillows as she stands up. she faces the couch as she faces her girl.

she moves across the room, you don't dare to look at her due to what happened last time. the faint marks of cigarettes on your thighs remind you just of it all.

the rattling sound of a belt catches your attention, as your panties are suddenly yanked down. "pretty pussys so wet, almost crying yeah?" she coos to you, almost making you feel pathetic as she swipes her index finger up and down your slit.

she collects your slick, bringing it up to her mouth as she moans at your taste. she can't take it anymore as you feel a very thick strap prod at your entrance. it elicits a whimper from your mouth from a slight hint of anticipation.

a loud moan flees your lips as shw pushes in, her hands grasping your hips as she bottoms out with no faults. your pussy was made for her. the sound of sloppy, wet squelching sounds can be heard along with trails of moans and whimpers.

suddenly you hear something that frightens you, the sound of the curtain being pulled back. you quickly tap sevika's thigh quickly from fright. she pulls out, as you sit up fast.

your eyes widen from fear. it was her.

ambessa, warlock, leader, war machine, ambessa fucking medarda. what the fuck was she doing in your room? what was she doing in zaun??

sevikas hips stuttered as she faulters back. she lowers her head, avoiding the powerful womans gaze. you've never seen her sized up before.

"so i see the rumors are true. silco's henchmen run amuck doing this pure filth in their free time while my army is fighting for freedom from your people." ambessa proclaims as she steps forwards until shes infront of you.

she grips your face, her large fingers prodding at your mouth until you're forced to open. your tongue rolls out as a chuckle escapes ambessas lips.

"such a pretty thing. i paid for the hour. i get anything i want yeah?" ambessa asks you as you shakily nod your head.

"sit over there sevika, maybe ill let you join in once you tell me information on that jinx." she commands, her voice filling your ears as sevika sits down in the corner chair. ambessa approaches sevika, pulling out a ball of blue light, a fucking hextech ball. "you move, you speak without being spoken to, anything. and i will load this." she threatens sevika.

your mouth is still pried open, you try to close it until you're met with a harsh slap. the stinging sensation fills your chest. a fat glob of spit lands on your tongue as she looks at you, you understand what she wants so you swallow it quickly.

"so obedient.." ambessa mutters. she lets go of your jaw as she walks around the room. "so.. you wanna talk? maybe then ill go easy on your little toy." she questions sevika.

"not in a million," sevika spits onto ambessas boot, "fucking years." she exencuates the last words. ambessa grabs a strap harness and grabs the largest size possible.

"such a shame that this poor lamb has to endure this because of you.." she tuts at sevika as your face is shoved back into the pillow. a harsh slap is met across the skin of your ass. your whimper fills the air. suddenly you feel familiar silicone pressed against your slit, but it was far larger than sevikas ever used. you try to mutter soft pleas at her but it was to no avail as she starts to push into you.

you claw at the fabric on the couch, tears filling your eyes from the painful stretch. she continues to push forwards as she didn't care what your reaction to it would be, until she bottoms out. a choked sob escapes from your mouth as your tears spill from your eyes. sevika sucks in a breath at the sight, feeling a tinge of sympathy.

suddenly she pulls out, then slams back in against your cervix. it knocks the air out of you as she slams your hips back and forth against her. it wasn't pleasurable for you at all, it was simply a manipulation tactic.

a harsh string of sobs flee from your lips as you beg sevika to help you, not knowing that ambessa has hextech on her. "puh-lease- sev- sevika please- fuck oh please-!"

sevikas heart tugs as she suddenly seems to be spilling words endlessly. "there's gonna be a rally- under the statue of vander. later tomorrow." she mutters out, ambessas pace not slowing down. "everyone who supports jinx is gonna be there." she tells one final time, a soft "tuttut" escapes ambessas lips.

she lifts you up, sitting you down in her lap as her strap stays angled inside you. "see how easy that was.." she strokes your cheek as she wipes away your tears from your cheek. "now now little lamb, no need to waste perfectly good tears." she tells you with a stupid grin on her face, she knows what she's doing to you.

a slight rock of her hips and you find yourself broken. your hands grip on her shoulders as you bury your head in her neck as whimpers and moans of yours fill the air. a large hand snakes down and rubs your clit in sharp circles.

soft praises fill your ears as ambessa draws you closer and closer to finishing. she continues to relentlessly pound into your cervix, bruising your soft spots inside until you're seeing stars.

"now.. if you don't get that brat in line with the rest of them, i will come back and inflict so.. so much worse." ambessa claims to sevika as a small handheld device is pulled out of her pocket. she approaches you in sevikas lap, trailing the tip of whatever she had alongside your back. until she presses down.

a splash of liquid trails along her waist and stomach as your body wracks and heaves. a familiar voice draws you back.

"baby.. baby?" sevika murmurs into your ear, you're curled up in her lap as a damp cloth cleans your lower half.

a sharp scream escapes your lips, a small blade was dragged along your skin. she was carving something into your back for all to see. it was horrifying. as sevika bit her lip, knowing ambessa could and will either kill her or throw her into the pits.

"i hope you've learned your lesson sevika." ambessa says as she finally leaves the room.

blood drips down your back as tears leak from your eyes. the initials 'A, M' now permanently carved into your back.

this made you contemplate your life contract with sevika.

[sincerelybubbles]

Here's a dialogue prompt for Emily please! Try this out pls. Love you Kam sm sm. "So why are you here?" "To make a fool of myself." ok ty lysm

even though i watched u type this, the wording makes me giggle every time i look at it.

emily prentiss x tech analyst!reader <3

warnings: fem!reader, cannon typical violence, very brief allusions to sexual assault (nothing happens!), angst and fluff! mutual pining.

word count: 5.4k

Emily is the loveliest thing you've ever seen and you can't imagine how she could ever possibly like you back. She enjoys the game, though, and teasing you is her favorite hobby.

-

It’s a sunny day. Warmth trickles down with the scattered light through the leaves. Patterns trace your arms, throwing your skin into a collage of different shapes and shades. Leaning back on your elbows, you watch people mill about the park. You look back down at your arm after a few more minutes, this time focused on the small watch resting there. With a sigh, you stand up and dust off your pants before picking up the small blanket you laid out and tucking it into your bag. 

You walk back to work, enjoying the sounds of the people around you. You lingered too long at the park during your break and are hoping that nobody notices your slightly late return. Maybe the team will be in a meeting, gruesome pictures you never quite learned to stomach plastered on the board, entirely oblivious to your tardiness. 

Unlikely, but a welcome thought soothing your anxiety as you push the door open and scan your badge at the security desk. 

“Welcome back,” the security guard says, smiling at you over his paperback. He’s an old greying man and you vaguely recognize him. You think he’s new and send him a warm smile in return. 

“Thanks,” you glance at his name badge, “Martin!”

You walk past him and step into the elevator. “Wait!” A voice calls and you reach forward to hit the hold button instinctively before you register the voice as Emily’s. 

She jogs into the elevator with you, smiling gratefully. “Thanks, I’m already running a little behind.” She lifts a container and shakes it a little. The label is from the Italian bistro across the street, about a ten-minute walk away and always nearly triple that in wait time. 

“Brave of you to go there during your lunch,” you joke, returning her smile and pressing the button for your floor. 

You hope she can’t see how your hands shake as you reach forward.

“I know, I just love their Pasta Brado. Have you tried it?”

“Can’t say I have. I’m boring, I usually go for the parm.”

“You’re not boring,” she says so earnestly that you can’t help but blush. You cough as an excuse to raise your hand to your face and hopefully hide it some. “You do have to try it, though. Here,” she offers you the plastic box. 

“Oh, I couldn’t. And I already ate.” You ignore the way your chest hurts a little at how enthusiastic she is. The worst part? She doesn’t even know how endearing her simple kindness, her casual enthusiasm, is to you. 

“Tomorrow, then. We can go together.” The elevator doors open as she says it and she steps out with an affirmative nod to solidify it. “Don’t try to bail out on me either, I know where to find you.”

“Yeah, I'm okay,” you say, feeling lame as you step out behind her. “I would love to.” She’s too far to hear you, though, already heading to Spencer’s desk and jumping right into his conversation with Morgan. 

Someone says your last name and you turn on your heel to see Hotch and cringe slightly. “I was trying to find you.” It’s a kinder way of him reminding you that you’re nearly ten minutes late back from your lunch. 

“Sorry, sir.”

“It’s fine. Do you have the reports finished from last week's trip to Huston?”

“Yes, sir, they’re at my desk. One moment.”

-

You and Emily don’t go to the bistro the next day because she and the team are sent to a small town in Kansas that night. 

“I’ll owe you lunch,” she says, hand on the back of your desk chair and brushing your shoulder as the team rushes to the jet. 

“Don’t worry about it!” You reassure her.

“I’m taking you to lunch,” she calls over her shoulder, pretend-glaring, “you will try that Brado!”

And then she’s gone, leaving you giddy and breathless. 

You know she’s just being friendly – she treats Spencer, Morgan, and JJ all the same as you – but her efforts to spend one-on-one time with you outside of work still have you feeling like a schoolgirl passed a note from her crush in class. 

You try to remind your heart to stop singing because Emily probably isn’t even gay and definitely isn’t interested. Instead, Garcia scares the shit out of you when she interrupts your inner monologue. 

“Lunch with Emily? Things are getting serious in your work marriage.” You hadn’t seen her walk into the room and jump at her voice, hand jumping to your mouth to suppress a yelp. “Sorry! Sorry!”

“It’s okay, didn’t see you.”

“Your loss, I look fantastic today.”

“As always,” you smile up at her, nose wrinkling and genuine fondness filling your senses. 

“Careful, wouldn’t want a workplace affair,” she jokes, leaning against your desk and picking up the stress ball you keep handy. 

“Stop,” you moan in good nature. “Nobody else calls us work wives.”

“That’s just because they don’t have my brilliance and excellent observational skills.”

“Nor do they have the same privy to my more personal thoughts,” you say, glancing up at her before returning to your paperwork. With the team leaving so quickly to tend to a missing child's case, you’re not getting home in time to cook dinner but are hoping to leave early enough to grab food instead of resorting to your freezer stash. 

“I would hope not. You know I can’t be replaced, baby.”

“Does Morgan know you talk to all your work besties like this?”

“I most certainly do not. You’re a regular bestie, not a work bestie.” A wink and then her expression sobers. “I do have an actual reason for visiting your humble cubical, though.”

“Hm?”

“I’m going to need extra hands for this case. It’s time-sensitive, as usual, and seems like it will be particularly tricky.”

“Yes ma’am,” you say, dropping your pen and standing to follow her. 

Your position at the bureau is kind of a catch-all. Most of your time is spent logging data, building reports, and doing general research for the team. Occasionally, though, you jump in to help Garcia with real-time research. Nothing as high-stakes as her direct assignments, more background work. Calling offices to talk to managers, combing through more meticulous data, generic census material to rule out obvious dead ends. 

It’s stressful work that technically isn’t what you’re paid for but you never complain. Your team saves lives, consistently putting themselves in the line of danger. If you have to spend a few hours a month helping Garcia call a suspect's manager at McDonald's to see if he still works there, it’s literally the least you can do. 

“Yes, so, it looks like our unsub…”

You drown out Garcia’s brief about information you already have sitting in front of you and begin vetting possible suspects from the large pool her system created.

It’s going to be a long night. You think about future Brado to cheer you up. 

-

“Reid, Prentiss take the back,” Hotch’s voice fills your ears. You imagine the pair nodding and splitting off from the group. 

This is your least favorite part of helping the team with active investigations – listening in on the calls. It’s rare that you and Garcia join the line when they’re approaching the unsub but, with you helping her, it isn’t a risk to distract Garcia and a much quicker method of getting any new information the team needs. It’s a new system you’ve only tried thrice, unsure how having microphones on 24/7 will work, and it grants you and the team more fluid communication.

Still, adrenaline floods your veins as you listen to their coms, the sounds of Garcia typing a constant behind their voices, imagining every way this could go wrong. 

You suspect the girl is still alive, the uncle doesn’t seem to have any reason to kill her just yet, but your fear for her grows with every minute. 

“Clear!”

Your eyes fall to the receipts flooding your screen. Ammo. A new rifle and pistol. The team knows but the evidence of this unsubs ability to hurt any of your friends, your family, isn’t helping your nerves. 

“I think he’s going to the roof!” Morgan’s voice, clear in the comms. 

You click out of the documents. Two swift motions on the screen. The firm press of the button. 

“Morgan, you’re on foot. Prentiss, follow him. Everyone else in vans, go!”

“Garcia, map out possible escape routes from the roof,” you instruct. 

She nods, screens shifting immediately. She puts on her own headset with one hand and clicks on the call and starts to bark information to Hotch. 

“Got her!” Reid’s voice sounds and you deflate a little. He mutes as he begins to console the small girl. 

You know you can take off your headset now, leave the call, and go to your paperwork. There isn’t much more you can do to help – you’re sure that’s what you’re supposed to do – but you stay on anyway, listening. 

“Right on Elmore!” Morgan calls. You find the street on Garcia’s screen, eyes tracing the path you think they’re taking. 

“We’ll try to cut him off,” Rossi says and you can hear tires in the background of the call. The click of a steering wheel cutting to the side too quickly. Someone’s labored breathing – probably Morgan’s as he dead sprints. 

“Stop! Put your hands up!” Emily shouts. The firmness in her voice makes you sit up straighter in your chair. 

You hear something that sounds vaguely like, “bitch,” before a loud pop drowns anything else out. 

“Emily!” Morgan’s voice, more pops. 

Gunfire. That’s gunfire, your brain recognizes. 

Your blood has gone cold.

“We need a medic!” Morgan shouts. Hotch’s line blinks red, going dead as he calls the ambulance. “Emily, Emily.”

Rustling. Cars. Sirens. Morgan’s line goes dead after you hear a car door slam shut. Then Reid’s and Rossi’s. Emily’s is the last to stay green, blinking.

You and Garcia stare at each other as you listen to Emily be loaded into an ambulance. Listen to Morgan tell the team, voice far away and barely tangible, that the unsub only managed to fire out one shot before he downed him. 

Neither of you can hear where she was shot or how badly injured she is before Emily’s line goes red as well.

-

“Emily?” You call softly, rapping your knuckles softly on the frame of the cracked hospital door. 

Your name, faint, answers you and you take that as permission to nudge the door open. The room looked dark from the hallway but Emily has the small lamp embedded on the wall switched on, throwing her face into harsh shadow. 

“Hey, you,” you say, walking in, arms full. “I brought things.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says, trying to sit herself up further and wincing as the motion pulls on her stitches in her abdomen. 

“Wait, let me help you,” you say, setting your things down and reaching out a hand. 

You wait for her nod before touching her, letting her grasp your arm and looping your other arm around the back of her waist to take most of her weight yourself. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles. You can tell she hates feeling useless, hates needing help for something as simple as sitting up, so you drop the subject with a nod and kind smile. 

You turn around to the small rolling tray where you put your things down, pulling two black containers out from a plastic bag. You feel silly and very awkward as you turn around to show them to her. 

“I know it’s probably not quite what you meant but,” you set the containers down on her bed and pop one open. 

“The Pasta Brado! Oh man, I was going to treat you.” She’s pouting through a smile, attempting to put on an upset facade and failing miserably. 

It’s so cute that you struggle with what to say next. 

“Thank you, really. You can pull up that chair, if you’re hungry now.”

You grab the chair she’s motioned to and drag it to sit next to her. “I’m hungry if you are. It might be a little cold, though, it’s kind of a far walk.”

“You walked here?” Emily asks, tone appalled and face comically shocked. 

“Yeah, my car broke down last week. I’ve been walking to work – it’s actually really nice out right now – and I couldn’t find a cab from the bistro.” You busy yourself with the food while you talk, opening the second container, setting it on her legs, and unwrapping the plastic cutlery for her. 

“Jesus! You didn’t need to come and see me if you don’t have a car. You didn’t need to come at all, actually. I really appreciate it,” she amends, seeing how your bashful smile freezes on your face, reaching forward as if to touch your face and brushing your shoulder instead. “It’s really sweet of you but you didn’t need to walk all that way. Isn’t it like a twenty-minute walk from here?”

Over thirty, but you nod anyway, knowing it won’t help your case to correct her. “It’s not a big deal. You were shot in the stomach, of course I wanted to see you.”

“Ah, so you wouldn't want to see me otherwise,” she teases, nodding and pushing her pasta around with her fork. She doesn’t even try to conceal her grin. 

“Ha ha, very funny,” you mumble. You take a bite of your food and your eyes widen. “Oh my god.”

“I knew you would love it,” she beams, watching your expression as you taste the food. You you she meant to say it in a gloating way but you swear you can hear a sort of fondness behind the words. Something in you warms at her ability to know you so well. 

You tell yourself you’re overreacting about both thoughts. 

“You were right – Emily this is unfairly good.”

“Oh, I know,” she says, taking her own bite and letting out an exaggerated moan, complete with an eye roll. You giggle and she smiles at you. “Thank you, this is exactly what I needed.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, holding her eye contact. 

She's been in the hospital for three days, transferred back to Virginia last night; her hair is unwashed and unbrushed, and she’s wearing no makeup and a hospital gown. 

She’s still the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen. 

-

Your car is fixed by the time Emily is released from the hospital two days later and you offer to take her home. 

“Hi Sergio,” you greet the cat brushing against your legs as Emily disengages the alarm. 

You set her things down by the door before turning to offer her your arm. Emily doesn’t pretend that she doesn’t need the help when it’s just you two, something you’re grateful for after watching her struggle with the team around, and lets you guide her to her bedroom. 

You set about making her comfortable, turning down her sheets and propping the pillows up so she can sit. 

“I’ve got it,” she laughs, playfully pushing away your hands. 

You laugh along with her, raising your hands and backing away. “I’m going to go put the rest of your stuff away and get you a drink.”

“Perfect, I’ll take an old-fashioned. Don’t forget the cherry.”

You roll your eyes at her, scoffing and leaving her room. 

You throw her clothes and go-bag in her laundry room before making her a glass of water and another glass of juice. Once you’re sure she’s settled in her bed with her book, you return to the kitchen to make her a few dinners, ignoring her protests. 

-

Emily is back in the field much sooner than you would have liked. 

“I was cleared by the doctors,” she tells you, coat slung over her arm as she digs through her bag for her badge. 

You smile at Martin, sending him a mock exasperated look, before she finds her ID and shows it to him. 

“It still seems too soon, Em,” you persist, reaching forward to push the elevator button and turning so you can lean back to watch her face. 

“Em?” Emily asks, the hint of a smile pulling up the left corner of her mouth. 

You sort of feel like you could die in that moment, just from the heat that simple gesture surges through you. 

“It just sort of slipped out, sorry,” you say, thoroughly embarrassed. 

The elevator dings and the doors open, throwing you off balance for a second. This doesn’t help your already flared nerves as you stumble back and drop your bag. You reach down to gather it and the files scattered across the floor. 

You’re kneeling to stuff everything in your bag when Emily crosses your line of sight again, wide smile on her face – teeth fully on display and nose scrunched, you are in desperate need of help – holding out your notepad.

“I think the nickname’s sweet. I kind of like the idea of having a name only one person, only you, calls me.”

All of the air has left this godforsaken elevator, the heat must be on, you stare dumbly at her as she reaches forward to grab your bag and put the rest of your papers inside of it for you. 

And then, realizing you look like an absolute idiot, you snap back into your body and cough slightly. The doors ding and open again, you grab your bag from her and stand slowly. Smiling at her, still crouched on the floor and looking, amused, up at you through her eyelashes, you say, “Okay. Thanks, then, Emmy.”

You walk away after that brief flash of confidence, telling yourself you’re just imagining how you swear her face flushed bright at your comment. 

And if Morgan mentions a few minutes that Emily seems flusters, well, who can blame you for floating on that high for a few days?

Except she doesn’t let it go. 

She corners you on your break in the kitchenette. Literally. She catches you when you’re examining the coffee pot that has been making concerning gurgles for the past few days and leans on the counter behind you, effectively blocking your exit. 

Not that you really want to leave. 

She’s wearing a red tank top and dark jeans, her hair is loose around her shoulders, eyes steadily trained on your face as you work. 

“Hello,” you say, quiet in a way you’re not normally. 

“Hi.”

“What’re you doing?” You ask after a few more moments of her silently staring at you while you pretend to know what you’re doing with a screwdriver. 

“Enjoying the view.”

You drop your screwdriver and relish in the sound of her laugh. 

-

You’d love to say that you had some suave answer to return her charm but you think you spent it all that morning with your boldness. 

You’re not shy but confidence doesn’t run in your blood either. You’d say you’re pretty normal – average. You don’t find much wrong with that, you know you have other qualities that build you up into an interesting person. You love your friends and coworkers deeply, for one. And have an intense trust in them and their abilities. 

That trust is always tested in your day-to-day at work but never more than now as you feel the car around you make turns at highway speeds. You think you’re on some sort of back road but it’s hard to tell from the trunk given the obvious lack of windows. 

You’re calmer than you thought you would be if kidnapped. 

Groaning after one particularly rough turn that has you jostling against the sides of the trunk, you allow your head to thump back and stare at the inside of the dark car. Light breaks through the cracks of the hinges of the trunk and you wonder if water trickles through when it rains. 

You’ve been in here too long to consider if you’re focused on the wrong things. You’re scared shitless, of course, but the adrenaline faded about an hour into your drive and now you’re just bored. 

Imagine that – bored as fuck in the trunk of a stranger's car, wrists burning from the rope and jaw sore from where it’s been forced open too long by the fabric tied around the back of your head. 

You’re just allowing yourself to reimagine your morning with Emily when the car stops and the engine cuts. 

You snap back into the present, energy flooding your system again as your brain flicks into overdrive. You might spend your days paper-pushing behind a desk, but you passed your physical. You’re smart, you’ve heard the stories of how these victims survive captivity. 

When the trunk pops open, you squeeze your eyes shut to prevent pain from the sudden lack of light. You don’t want to be blinded and the action has the added benefit of pleasing your captor. He put a hood over your hood when he grabbed you, muttering in your ear in tense tones that you would do best to not even try to see him. 

Say what you will, you usually do a pretty good job at following directions. This one is easy and happens to be number one on your list right now – keep him happy so he keeps you alive. 

“Good girl,” a gruff voice says before a calloused hand gropes the back of your neck to yank you forward. Scratchy fabric envelops your head and your hot breath bounces back against you, trapped against the fabric of the hood. 

You stand when his hands start to grab your waist, pulling yourself to your knees and allowing yourself to be lifted from the trunk.

You want to run but know now’s not the time. 

“Look at how well-behaved you are!” His breath is wet against your neck. He stands too close, hands clawing under the hem of your shirt to cling to your skin. 

He walks you forward like that, chest pressed against your back and breath slithering down the collar of your shirt to hang uncomfortably over your collarbones. 

It’s becoming increasingly more obvious what this sicko wants from you and your stomach is twisting at the thought. You urge the team to hurry up, knowing your absence would have been missed ages ago. They have to be looking for you by now. And, with how sloppy this dude seems to be, he must have left a plethora of clues waiting to be found. 

You have to repeat this to yourself as you hear a door lock click. 

“Took you long enough. This is the girl? She’s kind of … well,” the second man kisses his teeth with a sharp sound. You’re pushed forward again. “Whatever floats your boat man.” The door shuts and locks behind you. The second man's voice fades as he talks, disinterested. 

You wonder if it’s wrong to feel slightly insulted right now. 

“This way, doll.”

You listen. It’s saving your life to be complicit in his directions, so you listen. Still, you’re shoved harshly to the floor once you get to where he wants you, knees striking what feels like cement. Before you can recover, your cheek stings and your head is whipping to the side from a sudden slap. 

Then, there’s a kick to your ribs. You fall onto your side, too winded to even cry out, lips falling open in a silent scream. A boot in your belly. Your ribs again, your hip and back. 

“Why?” You manage to sob out. “Why, why?”

You don’t get an answer.

-

You’re not overly religious but you thank whatever heavens or universe exists that he leaves you alone once he’s done kicking the shit out of you. Your ribs are bruised but the worst you expected hasn’t happened. 

The boredom returns as you lay with throbbing ribs. At least one is broken and every breath hurts. You can’t imagine sitting up and, luckily, with your hands tied behind your back, it’s not really an option anyway. 

It must be near an hour later when you’re fading out of consciousness – a purposeful choice on your part to save your energy – when you hear the front door burst down. 

“FBI! Hands where I can see them!” Morgan. You nearly weep but think better when your stuttered gasp makes your side throb. “What the fuck?” You hear shouted in reply. “Robb, what the fuck man.”

There isn’t much of a resistance from the living room. The second man is shouting at what you can only assume is the first – your initial kidnapper – but there’s nothing else other than that. 

“Clear!” You hear Hotch call. Spencer replies and then you hear the door nearest you open. 

His voice calls out your name. You deflate against the floor. A second, you know he’s scanning the room with his gun before holstering it. “Clear! I need a medic!”

Hands, gentle, against your face, removing the hood. Swifter after that, removing your gag, and then hand binds. 

“Hey, Spence,” you say, trying to smile up at him. 

“Shh, you’re okay. We’ve got you.” He starts to support your weight behind your shoulders and the pain that brings is too intense to prevent your yelp. 

“Oh my god, is she okay?” You hear Emily ask seconds before you see her. She looks concerned, hair now in a tight ponytail and FBI vest strapped over her chest. She whispers your name once and then a second time, reaching forward to gently brush your hair out of your eyes. 

“Hey, pretty,” you say, words tumbling out of your mouth before you can catch them.

“Hi beautiful,” she answers, reply just as soft as your own. Earnest. 

It makes your heart ache and, for the first time since being yanked off the road walking to grab lunch, you start to cry. 

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, beautiful, it’s okay. You’re okay.” She repeats this as you’re lifted by the paramedics and cry harder. 

She repeats it when they stitch up where kicks burst the skin over your cheekbone open, repeats it as she trails a hand down your arm in gentle patterns while they examine your ribs and confirm that you’ve broken two, maybe three. 

She tries with you in the ambulance. 

You can’t help but think about being on the phone when you heard Emily be shot weeks earlier. You squeeze your eye shut as they insert the IV, beyond grateful that she’s there to hold your hand while they do it. The tear that falls down your cheek has nothing to do with the pain and everything to do with the thought that you couldn’t have been there for her in the same way. 

An odd thought, you realize, but it’s the one you’re stuck with as you drift away when the pain medicine enters your system. 

-

You’re sent home three days later. You insist on spending the night alone, afraid to admit you’re scared because, honestly, nothing much happened to you. 

Oh, of course, everyone tries to convince you otherwise but you know they’ve all had it worse. You were gone from the bureau for about eight hours and spent most of it bored. 

So you force yourself to spend the night alone. You don’t need help moving around or doing things for yourself so you convince yourself you don’t need help. 

You’re cooking dinner when the doorbell rings. You wipe your hands with a dish towel and take your time walking to the door to look through the peephole. You don’t know who took you yet, you haven’t asked and nobody has said, but you can imagine seeing him through the door. Waiting for you, waiting to kill you this time. 

Okay, yeah, maybe Spencer was right when he talked about PTSD and usual levels of anxiety, but you’re so tired of him being so right all of the time that you really want to prove him right.

There is no man standing on the other side of the door, though. Instead, you see Emily, holding a plate wrapped in tin foil and looking serene in your apartment hallway. 

You open the door quickly, unlatching it and turning off your alarm with a few clicks. “Emily?”

“Ah, man, I was getting used to Emmy,” she jokes, stepping inside with a smile in your direction and kicking off her shoes. 

You can’t think of an answer so you just smile at her, hoping she’ll take the lead. You’re tired and she must see it because she offers the plate in her hands to you once the door is closed and the alarm is reengaged. 

“Rossi sent me with it with explicit instructions to not let you share it.”

You giggle and take the plate. “I’ll have to tell him thank you. It’s kind of out of your way to come all this way, though, isn’t it?”

“Not out of my way at all,” she says, words dripping with meaning as she holds your eyes. “I would have come even if Rossi didn’t have food for you.”

“So why are you here?”

“To make a fool of myself,” she says, casually, like that’s something people say every day, “probably. You’ve just gotten back from the hospital and I know you said you wanted to be alone, but,” she swallows and her words are becoming more rushed as she speaks, “I said the same thing and you still stayed.”

“Emily?” You ask, setting the plate down on your hallway table and clearing your throat. “Ah, Emmy?” You amend when she cuts you a look. Your attempt to diffuse the tension doesn’t work and she steps closer so you’re toe to toe.

“That doesn’t really answer your question, though. You’re sweet enough that you would let it go, but,” she shrugs, reaching forward to gently loop her fingers around your wrists. “Stop me if this is awful timing. Please,” she says, leaning forward and staring into your eyes. 

You feel like you’re suffocating, but if this is death, you’ll greet it gladly in the irises of Emily Prentiss. You’re caught in the trap of the moment, heart hardly breathing, all aches and sores forgotten because Emily is leaning closer, breath fanning across your face. You feel intoxicated, ensnared. 

Everything that has ever been exists here, now, in this moment. Every breath used to blow out birthday candles and blow away eyelashes – breaths with purpose, with wishes, with intent – exists between the two of you as she leans closer and closer. Closer, still, and how can so much distance exist between you two when you’ve been standing so closely?

“Just, stop me, if you want,” she whispers against your lips, eyes falling shut. 

Time yawns again, freezing. Your eyes open, hers closed, beats of seconds pausing. Hesitating for you to hold this moment in your hands. You’re grateful to appreciate it because she really is so lovely. Her bangs are pushed back from her face with a headband – imagine that! Emily owns headbands! – and you can see every detail of her face. Her elegant nose, her slim eyebrows, her narrow, prominent, lips.

And then your heart finally catches up, beats loudly, cracks whatever fragile plane of glass holding the moment so perfectly still, and her lips are meeting yours. 

You gasp into her mouth, hands breaking out of her hold to grab her face. You’re afraid that she’s going to pull away before this kiss can be fully real. Before you can actually taste her – lemon cake and rain and warmth. Before you can memorize the feel of her lips pressed against your own before you can drag her closer and slip your hands into her hair. 

But she doesn’t pull away. She meets your enthusiasm with a sigh and then enthusiasm tenfold. You can feel relief in the kiss, feel how she relaxes into you. She takes a step forward and you take one back half the amount to account for it. 

A tilt of your head and it’s better, impossibly. She’s firm, sturdy, beautiful. Confident. Lovely, lovely, lovely. 

And then she reaches forward to hold you to her, hands brushing your ribs to wrap around your back and you can’t hold in the gasp of pain that causes you to stiffen. You want to take it back, want to ignore the pain, want to keep her near, but she won’t allow it.

“Oh, I’m so so sorry. Are you okay? I’m sorry.” You smush the apologies against her lips, removing one hand from her hand to guide her arms around your shoulders where they won’t hurt. “Okay! Okay,” she giggles, leaning back with several short kisses that do nothing to satiate you. “I need to know you’re okay.”

She can obviously tell she hasn’t hurt you too bad by your reaction, but the sweet caution in her voice has you melting further. 

“I’m perfect.”

[emipon]

It was the goddesses’ design that we should meet…yes, that is what I believe.✨