#emily prentiss drabble
Text
Cherry lips l emily prentiss x reader
Tags: fluff, first kiss, getting together, r has a lip peeling problem (bc I do too), teeny tiny mention of blood (from the lip peeling), no use of yn
Summary: Tired of seeing you pick at your lips, Emily gives you some lip balm. That proves to be a mistake.
Word count: 1.5k
“Here.” Emily throws a stick of lip balm at you.
It falls on your lap and you give her a confused frown. She barely holds back an eye roll; your fingers are currently pinching a rough patch of skin on your lip—the rest is already peeled off—and when you drop your hand to pick up the chapstick, she catches a smear of blood on your thumbnail.
It really is such a shame.
You have the most beautiful lips; kissable and soft looking and she’s so often gripped with the urge to lean forward and press her own to yours, test out that softness for herself.
But you have a bad habit—you pick at them constantly, your nails catching on rough skin and peeling it off, leaving behind bright red marks that are sometimes painful to look at. It doesn’t make you any less beautiful to her—god, she wished it did—but sometimes she takes pity on those poor lips of yours. And when she was shopping for some mid-week groceries last night, she couldn’t help but toss the chapstick in her cart.
She won’t be thinking too hard about why she did that.
“Really?” You ask, turning the chapstick over between your fingers, biting your lips to hold back a smile.
Emily’s heart trips when you look up at her with a quirk of your brow; she’s usually good at reading you, but right now she can’t tell if you’re amused or exasperated.
“Since you obviously don’t own one,” she quips, sitting down on the edge of your desk. You roll your eyes and run your thumb over the plastic tube, your nail dragging over the white lettering on the side.
Cherry.
Emily definitely didn’t choose that because it’s her favorite, and she most definitely didn’t choose it because she wants to see how that shade of red would look on your lips.
“I do,” you scoff, unthinkingly bringing your other hand to your mouth. Emily grimaces as you start tearing at the skin, insistent on peeling it off.
“Hey, stop that,” she swats at your hand. You frown as your hand drops to your lap. “Put some Vaseline on or something,” she says, her brow creasing at the blood slowly blooming on your lip, “or some of that chapstick you definitely own.”
She looks at you expectantly and you huff. “Smartass.” You mutter as she turns and snatches a tissue from Reid’s desk.
Emily arches her brow as she extends it to you. “Thank you, Emily, for giving me something I so desperately needed. Oh, no problem, it was my pleasure, really—”
You laugh as you take the tissue from her and press it to your bottom lip, wiping away the little smidge of blood.
“Thank you, Emily.” You say sincerely, looking up at her through your lashes. “I really, really appreciate you giving me this lip balm and I promise to use it till it runs out.” You vow, your voice silky smooth, fingers wrapped around the chapstick as you hold it to your heart.
Emily’s heart stumbles once more. Do you know the effect you have on her? Sometimes she thinks you do, with the way you flirt with her, but other times you drip with genuine innocence, your smiles nothing but friendly.
“Whatever,” she murmurs, her booted toe lightly hitting yours. You smile and uncap the lip balm, twisting it to reveal a stick of deep red, almost burgundy.
She almost stops breathing when you turn to the tiny mirror on your desk and start applying it, your lips quickly tinting red, the uneven splotches of recently peeled skin disappearing. You trace it over your skin and smooth your lips together when you’re done, spreading the balm evenly before you turn back to her.
“Good?” You ask as you cap the chapstick and slip it into your pocket. Something in her grows warm at the thought of you carrying it with you. She wonders if it’ll find its way onto your nightstand tonight, if it’ll be hidden in the pocket of one of your blazers tomorrow.
Emily almost laughs at the question. Her eyes drop to your lips, just to check, as if she hadn’t been ogling them while you’ve been turned away. She can still see the edge of the rough skin you were picking at, but it’s mostly hidden beneath the red. She has to tear her eyes from your lips, still ever so perfect.
Kissable.
“Good,” she agrees, inclining her head in a nod. “I sincerely hope you’ll keep using it.” Her voice turns sickly sweet as she smiles, dimples curving in her cheeks. Your eyes brighten at the shift in her tone.
Grinning, you rest your chin on your palm. “Aw, you wanna kiss me that bad, Prentiss?” You tease.
She laughs breathily, the sound a little choked if you listen properly. You have no idea.
“Just don’t want those lips to scare anyone away, hon,” she taps your nose and slides off your desk, grinning when you flip her off.
She settles back into her own desk and looks across at you, her heart warming at the light blush on your cheeks, a similar pink to your lips.
“Screw you, Emily,” you grumble, but you’re not fooling anyone with your poorly hidden smile.
She winks at you. “You’ll thank me later.”
----
It’s possibly the worst mistake she’s ever made.
Ever since she handed you the lip balm, you’ve been diligently applying it. Your lips are no longer cracked or dry; they’re plump and healed, shining with a subtle pink sheen, veering into red from the lip balm.
It goes without saying that work has become infinitely harder. She can’t focus when she sees the imprint of your lips on your coffee mug, a red kiss on the rim after you tip your drink back. When you pull out the chapstick in front of her she goes blank, her eyes zeroing in on the smooth, impossibly softer looking skin of your lips.
It only takes a week before her mind inevitably slips and exposes her.
You’re smoothing your hair in the bathroom when she walks in, also intent on touching up her appearance before delivering the profile. Your gaze slides to her and you smile, those perfect lips of yours turning up at the sight of her.
“Hey,” you say as she approaches, but she’s not listening. You’re turning over the chapstick between your fingers, the sheen on your lips telling her it’s freshly applied.
Emily doesn’t return your greeting. Her gaze drops to your mouth as she steps in close, closer than she realizes.
“Your lips look good,” she says quietly.
Your brows lift and immediately she feels her stomach drop, a flush rising up her cheeks. “Better,” she amends, her words breathless with embarrassment, “they look better. Than before. Not chapped.”
She really should stop talking. Her mouth snaps shut as her cheeks start to flame. She should stop looking at you, she thinks as your gaze drags over her. Your eyes linger on the pink tint of her pale cheeks, her widened eyes, the flush crawling up her jaw. She swallows and your eyes track that, too, making her body heat.
Emily sees the exact moment something shifts in your expression, as if you’ve come to a decision. Absently, you rub your smooth lips together. Absently, her eyes fall to them.
“They look good, huh?” You tilt your head. You take a few steps and close the miniscule distance between you two. Her chest presses into yours; she breathes in sharply.
“You know what, Em?” You murmur, your eyes locked on hers in a way that makes her feel dizzy. “They feel even better.”
Emily’s heart races as you slip the lip balm back into your pocket. When you lean in impossibly closer and place your hand on her cheek, she stops breathing entirely.
“We’ve been playing this game for a while,” you say, your thumb stroking the soft skin of her cheek. She leans her face into your hand, chasing your touch. You smile.
“But it’s not a game, is it, Em?”
God, when you say her name like that. When you say Em and not Emily, when you let the syllables roll around on your tongue, when you say it lazily, carefully, as if you have all the time in the world.
Her hand finds your waist. She smiles a little, through her racing heart. “No,” she agrees softly. “It’s not.”
Your skin is warm through your clothes. She hears the soft hitch in your breath, the way your skin caves beneath her touch.
“Is it okay if I kiss you?”
Emily laughs, soft and a little breathless. “Please,” she twists her fingers into your shirt, feels the material slip against her skin.
When you finally kiss her, she tastes cherries.
*I didn’t expect to write this so quickly after the first one but inspiration struck and I ran with it haha. I hope you enjoyed <33 I’d possibly like to write more for em, so if you’ve got any requests, pop in my inbox and let me know!
#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss imagine#emily prentiss fic#emily prentiss fanfiction#emily prentiss x you#emily prentiss x y/n#emily prentiss fluff#emily prentiss drabble#emily prentiss blurb#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds#divider creds: cafekitsune#emily prentiss fanfic
466 notes
·
View notes
Text
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
#emily prentiss#wlw#criminal minds x reader#emily prentiss imagine#emily prentiss x reader#lesbian#lesbian pride#wlw fanfic#wlw smut#emily prentiss lesbian#Emily Prentiss x y/n#emily prentiss drabble#emily prentiss blurb
431 notes
·
View notes
Text
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.
#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x reader#criminal minds#bau#emily prentiss fanfiction#emily prentiss fluff#emily prentiss drabble
506 notes
·
View notes
Text
༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; emily prentiss x fem!reader
༉‧´ˎ˗ summary; Derek and Emily are the last to get back to the hotel. Derek kicks Emily out for the sake of his ‘beauty sleep’, and she’s left to have to share a room (and bed) with reader.
༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; bed sharing, cuddling, mention of emily’s nail biting habit.
༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 1.0k
cm masterlist ; main masterlist ; request guidelines ; inbox
The smile you give at her presence is a sweet one, though you do look a little dazed as you were just awoken from your slumber. It was a good dream you were having, snow flurries slowly falling on you, the world around you calm. Her knock was what had pulled you from that dream. Instead of lying on top of a cushion of thick snow, you woke up on the same stiff hotel mattress you fell asleep on as soon after you got back from the local police station.
“Em, wh-what are you doing here.. so late too?” you squint your eyes, vision still blurry and adjusting to the light coming from the hallway she stood in.
"I just drove back with Derek," the raven-haired woman sighs, one hand stuffed in the pocket of her pantsuit, the other holding onto the strap of her bag that's slung on her shoulder. She’s not able to contain her grin as she takes in your state, the sleep-mussed hair, plain grey sweatshirt, fuzzy heart patterned sleep shorts that are indeed very short, one sock missing. "Derek kicked me out of the room, made up some bullshit excuse about how he can't sleep properly with another person in the room and that if he doesn't get enough sleep, he'll be completely off his game tomorrow.”
“..and you want to sleep here?” Your voice is groggy and your eyes have just begun to adapt to the light. Those same eyes dart down to the bag she carries, and know it makes sense why she’s carrying it.
She nods.
“If it’s not too much of a burden, that is.”
“N-no, you’re never a burden.. come in.”
You open the door wider, gesturing with your arm for her to step inside. Emily’s eyes flicker from the inside of your hotel room back over to the door of the room she was supposed to stay in with Derek.
“Are you sure it’s fine?”
Before she even finishes getting her question out, you're nodding.
“Im sure.. and I’m also sure I’m very tired.”
She huffs, a barely there smile appearing on her lips at your whine, knowing that if you get too well adjusted to being back awake, you won’t be able to get any rest tonight. You shut the door behind her after she enters and watch through the darkness as she sets her bag down at the end of the bed and gets out her pajamas as well as a makeup wipe, hairbrush, and her toothbrush and paste.
You fish around under the sheets for that other sock, putting it on before climbing under the covers. You can hear her getting ready for bed, distant noise coming from behind the bathroom walls. It’s only another 7 minutes before she’s done and striding back out in her own set of pajamas, placing her toiletries back in her black bag.
“Thanks again,” she says in a hushed tone, slipping into bed next to you. The bed shifts, dipping slightly with the additional weight.
“It’s no problem.” Your voice is a barely there whisper, and you’re already close to drifting back to sleep.
Another few minutes of silence pass and you open your eyes back up, witnessing as she fidgets with her fingers above the comforter. You glance down at her fingers, silently inspecting her fingernails. Even though they’ve always looked chewed up, you can tell she’s bitten them quite recently, maybe even today.
You’d put two and two together the first time you met Emily when you originally joined the team and figured she had a habit of biting them. You were right, and she confirmed the suspicion a couple of months into knowing each other when she made an offhand comment about your nails when you came into work after getting a manicure that weekend about how well-kept your nails always were and about how if she didn’t have this nasty habit of biting hers, they could be that same way.
“Em..?” You whisper her nickname, breaking the silence.
“Hm?” She hums, stopping her fidgeting and turning her attention over to you.
“I thought you said you haden’t bitten your nails in a while..”
Emily goes quiet. Her memory takes her back to just a week prior, when she had told you her weekend went well, and that she hadn’t bitten her nails since that last Friday, 2 days. It’s been 11 days now, and it seems like she broke that streak.
“Yeah, I did.. This case has just been really stressful, for all of us I’m sure.”
You nod in agreement. You know that’s not the whole truth, and she can tell you know by it being clearly written on your face.
“I.. I’m not in the mood to talk about this right now.. sorry.”
“Well if you ever change your mind, and you do want to talk, you can talk to me if you’d like.”
Emily lets out a soft sigh, appreciating the understanding in your eyes. She shifts slightly in the bed, finding a comfortable position as she brings her arm closer to her chest, bringer her hand to her heart.
"Thank you," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. "It means a lot."
You offer her a gentle smile in return, your eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and empathy.
She takes this moment of calm between you as an opportunity to shimmy closer to you, hesitating slightly before draping her arm over you. “Is this alright?”
You answer her with a small nod, letting your eyes fall shut as you curl up into her. She rubs your back languidly, softly lulling you to back to sleep against her as she rests her head gently on your shoulder, the shoulder your hair is draped over, and moves her leg over yours, effectively spooning you beneath the covers.
“Goodnight, y/n.” She whispers beside your ear, and she can hear each soft breath you take and each beat of your heart with how close you are to her, no room between you, bare thighs pressed against her pajama bottom covered ones, her head right next to yours, pressing against the cozy material of your sweatshirt.
“Goodnight..” you mutter back, voice weak as you drift off.
#reidsdaisies#reidsdaisies emily <3#emily prentiss#emily prentiss fluff#emily prentiss blurb#emily prentiss drabble#emily prentiss scenario#emily prentiss imagine#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss x female reader#emily prentisd x fem!reader#emily prentiss fanfic#emily prentiss fanfiction#emily prentiss fandom#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#emily prentiss criminal minds
498 notes
·
View notes
Text
old habits
a/n: in honour of cm:evolution new trailer that I saw emily holding a pack of cigarettes.
pairing: emily prentiss x f!bi!BAU!reader
warnings/content: exes with feelings trope; smoking; past relationships; discussion about marriage and family being overbearing; this is sad.
navi
masterpost
cm masterlist
[part 2] [part 3]
━━━━━━━━━
“you're back at it?”
emily's head tilted to watch you approach from her peripheral vision.
you watched as her grey strands fell from her shoulder as she turned her neck.
one of the best things emily did was let her hair take on her natural colour, instead of dying it black continuously. she's beautiful regardless, especially with messy hair and her sleepy face as soon as she wakes up— and now you're spiraling.
your brain seemed to forget that she's no longer your girlfriend and kept on hunting you with memories you can't get back to.
she was playing with the pack of cigarettes as she admitted out loud, “mhm. trying not to, but—”
“you're stressed.”
her lips quirked up and she looked up at you, a hint of a smile. it wasn't a happy one. “that's one way to put it.”
you looked down at your shoes as you leaned to where she was sitting. eye contact was something you couldn't hold for long, it was hard and awkward. it didn't used to be like that. you could stare at emily the entire day and not look away for a second.
“what's stressing you out?” your voice was slightly muffled by the collar of your coat. it was cold, you find it absurd how emily never even flinched at the wind. she had always been warmer than you but had the coldest hands on earth.
“just needed some fresh air.”
you offered her a blank look.
she closed the lid of the pack, leaving it aside before she spoke again. if she did that out of respect for you or if she didn't felt like smoking anymore, you didn't care. both were good reasons.
“what's stressing you out?” she threw back.
“my mom called.” you eyed her hand for a moment, wondering if they were still as cold as you remembered them to be. clearing your throat and shaking your head to deviate your thoughts to a better and solid place, you said, “she wants to know when I'm going to visit because, you know, uh... she wants to introduce me to someone.”
a beat.
“oh.” emily let out a forced chuckle. “she wants to set you up with a guy.”
“precisely.” which is what your mother always did, even after you introduced emily as your long term girlfriend. her calls were always about finding someone good for you while you were in a relationship.
it was frustrating but you could handle it since you were never at her place anymore. you visited, yes, but five times a year, maybe. never more than that. you never told her you and emily had broke up.
“and do you want it? to meet him?”
a scoff left your lips, “no. it will probably be some religious prick who will want to control my life like my dad controlled hers.”
“she must be crazy about the idea of planning your wedding.”
you nodded, staring distractedly into the horizon.
“probably,” you said, “but it's never happening, so.”
“why would you say that?” you could see her frown through her tone of voice. “it can still happen.”
you leaned back slightly, inhaling with your eyes closed. your nose was definitely pink and you were starting you feel your numbers become numb, but the night sky and the quietness made you enjoy the moment.
and the company, of course.
“i don't want to.”
“get married?” she had a puzzled look while she studied you. and you let her profile you in that moment, even if you despised when she did that. “you used to want it.”
there are some things that are better left unsaid. in order for you to end a cycle, you have to do something to move on. so you say things that need to be said and leave out the ones that will come to the surface later. the what ifs.
you blamed the moon for your choice or words next.
“i used to want it, yes. when I was with you.”
you ignored the deafening silence that installed itself between the two of you, deciding to bask in the rare peaceful moment without seeing dead bodies and without hunting serial killers.
“i didn't know that.” she surprised you by breaking the silence. you thought she would've just pretended you didn't say anything and move on.
move on.
why is it so hard?
“you thought about marrying me?”
yes, please, torture me like that, emily prentiss. you're awfully good at that.
“emily, I thought about everything with you.”
“why?” she sounded genuinely confused.
“because I loved you.” you said matter-of-fact. “and I... you know what? I'm gonna head back inside. it's freezing out here.” you abruptly cut the conversation short. otherwise you'd say something you'd regret later and all the moving on you did in the last few years would go down the drain. a moment didn't change anything.
emily's icy fingers held you by the elbow and your breath failed for a second.
“i'm sorry.”
“no, don't do that.” you begged, pulling your arm back and out of her reach. you'd done that before, you remembered how you ended up. you're not going back there again.
she let you go, folding her arms across her chest as if she felt cold for the first time that night. she eyed the pack of cigarettes, taking a minute to remind herself of the progress she made for not smoking in the past months.
and your voice rang through her head as walked back inside the building.
“it's not good for you.” you said one night when she thought you were sleeping. your arm wrapped around her middle and you tucked your nose in the crack of her neck. she leaned back immediately, her body finding the comfort in seek in your warm touch.
she pulled the cigarette away from her mouth and stared at it. “i know.”
you kissed the back of her shoulder, rubbing softly the side of her waist. “why'd you wake up? nightmare?”
“yeah, I didn't want to wake you up too.” she grimaced, turning her head so your eyes could meet. you gave her an eye roll.
“you didn't but you should. I don't like you alone with your mind catastrophizing everything.”
and look how she ended up.
lonely. with her mind catastrophizing everything.
━━━━━━━━━
a/n: i need to write some emily fluff....
#emily prentiss x reader#lesbian emily prentiss#emily prentiss x female reader#emily prentiss drabble#emily prentiss fanfic#emily prentiss#criminal minds fanfic
263 notes
·
View notes
Text
reconciliation (pt.2 to how do we carry on?)
pairing: hotch x bau!reader
rating: t
genre: hurt/comfort with a happy ending
word count: 7.2k
tagged readers: @izakopanyi2 @polireader @jihyowrrld @twilightlover2007 @queenanababy @feyrecarol @rousethemouse @endofthexline @jxvipike @donttrustlove @hiireadstuff @jenna50 @michasia24
The coffee that was hot an hour ago is cold and bitter now. You grimace as the acrid taste slides down your throat. You try to place the disposable cup into your cup holder without taking your eyes off the road, but miss.The lid slips off and brown liquid sloshes over the edge onto the passenger seat. You curse as you grasp the wheel with one hand while you try to mop up the spill with what random napkins you’ve acquired since you started driving. Fortunately, your purse is spared any damage, but the road map and photograph you’ve kept on the seat aren’t as lucky. Ignoring the map, you pick up the photograph and shake it, splattering drops of coffee across the dash. The edges curl slightly, but the photo itself is fine. You hold it awkwardly between your fingers as you return your hand to the steering wheel.
There aren’t many cars on the road at this hour. You glance down at the dashboard and see 02:32 illuminated in green. You aren’t sure where you’re going, you just know you can’t stay there. Even your own apartment didn’t feel secure, not with how much of him is there. Your lives are so intertwined, you see and feel him everywhere you go. It’s what makes, made? God, you don’t even know anymore. It’s what is so beautiful about your relationship, how seamlessly your lives blend together that you’re not sure where yours and his start and end. You’re both so fiercely independent while being so devoted and wholly part of the threads that make up one another’s lives.
Or so you thought.
As you slow to a stop at the red light, the only car at the four way intersection, your eyes fall to the coffee stained image between your fingers. You’re smiling at the camera meanwhile Aaron is looking and smiling down on you, the soft shimmer in his deep brown eyes captured by the lens. It’s your favorite picture. You took it from the frame at the front table before leaving. The sound of his sobs echo in your ears as the red light reflecting on the photo paper shines green. You blink and drop the photo onto the center console before shifting your gaze back to the road. A sign ahead reads to keep left to stay on I-95 South. Richmond and Virginia Beach are in big white letters under it.
Three years you’ve lived in Virginia, and you’ve never made it to the coast. Shifting the steering wheel, you guide the vehicle into the left lane and take the exit.
•
As the waves lap at your ankles, you close your eyes and turn your face toward the sun, the briny sea breeze gently tossing your hair. You inhale deeply and the sigh you exhale is overtaken by the quiet roar of the ocean.
Turns out getting a beachfront house isn’t as expensive as one might think in the off season and fortunately for you, Virginia afternoons in September still reach the high eighties.
The beach house is nothing fancy, more like a beach shack if you’re being honest. It’s one floor supported on high rafters, old wooden steps leading down to the sand. You climb them now and they creak beneath your weight. A half rusted outdoor shower squeals to life when you reach the deck and twist the faucet. You shiver as you rinse the sand off of your legs and arms, and well, everywhere. There aren’t many crevices it doesn’t manage to stick to. You swipe the pink and white striped towel you’d found in the linen closet off the railing and wrap it around your body. Once it’s tightly secured around your chest, you work off the cheap bikini you’d purchased at a year round souvenir shop down the road and spread it out to dry.
The screen door squeaks on its hinges as you enter the house. You should probably go for a proper shower and wash the sea out of your hair, but you can’t be assed. Instead, you crack open the fridge and inspect the pathetic hodge podge of groceries you’d purchased at the corner store. Food doesn’t even sound appealing. It hasn’t for days. Every time you try to eat, you just feel sick. Your stomach roils at the thought and you grab a seltzer water before closing the fridge with a grimace.
As you exit the kitchen, your eyes catch your phone and keys on the chipped granite counter. The black screen of your phone glints beneath the fluorescent kitchen lighting. You’d turned it off when you’d arrived, ignoring the fact that you had 8 missed calls from Hotch and twice as many unread messages from him. There’d been one missed call from Emily, a name you never thought you’d see flash across your screen again. God knows how many times you’d called her phone just to hear her voice recording before leaving a message about how much you missed her and wished she were there to give you advice or talk through a case. For a fraction of a second, you wonder now if she’s gotten the chance to hear those voicemails you’d left her. Did she hear the pain in your voice? Did she feel guilt over the messages where all you’d managed to choke out were incoherent sobs? All this time you thought you’d been talking to a ghost, but she’d been out there all along.
You tear your gaze away from the counter, leaving your phone where it is and cross the cream colored carpet to the small bedroom. Yellow wallpaper splashed with repeating patterns of palm fronds plaster the four walls. The bed frame is made up of white wicker and you fall back onto the comforter, the front of which is decorated with images of shells and starfish. None of the patterns in this house match, but you don’t care. You care about very little right now.
Before you can run away down that thought pattern, there’s a knock at the door. You sit up, brow furrowed, as you lean forward on your knees, as if doing so will suddenly grant you the ability to see through walls and who could possibly be here.
Maybe the owner? A neighboring off season beach goer? Hesitantly, you rise from the bed and tug on one of the guest robes that had been hanging in the bathroom. You drop your towel and shrug it on, tying it tightly around your waist before approaching the front door. You move slowly for two reasons: one, no one should know you’re here and you don’t know why someone would be calling on you, and two; what if it’s Aaron?
The knocking repeats. It's light but firm, definitely not Aaron. A woman, you think. You twist the deadbolt and pull open the door, surprise etching into your features as a woman a few years older than you stands behind the second screen door.
“Hi, uh, can I help you?” you ask awkwardly.
The girl’s dark eyes travel up and down your body. She looks at you through the door from beneath long lashes, a knowing smile playing on her lips. You can’t control the shocked gasp that leaves your mouth when she asks for you by name.
You try your best to school your facial expressions and by the slight smirk that crosses the girl’s face, you know you did a pretty poor job of doing so. “Who wants to know?” you ask, wondering if she’s someone who’s crossed paths with you before through work.
“Aaron Hotchner,” she answers, drawing out the last syllable of his name with an amused glint in her eye.
You can’t fight the eye roll that follows. Unbelievable. “Sorry, he wasted your time.” You move to close the door, but she throws open the screen door and catches it with her foot.
Your eyes flash to hers and you see the challenge in the depth of her hazel gaze, equal to the one in yours. “Hotch wouldn’t have reached out to me unless he was desperate,” she adds. “I think you might want to hear me out.” She extends a hand toward you. “I’m Elle, Greenaway to the BAU, but when I left I shortened it to Greene.”
Your brow furrows as the name rings the slightest of bells in the back of your mind. Hesitantly, you accept her ring adorned hand and shake it as your brain sifts through the number of agents you’d heard stories about in the time before you joined the team.
“How did you find me?” you ask as you step aside and admit her into the house.
Elle nods graciously as she looks around, though there’s not much to size up in the small rental unit.
“You think Hotch didn’t immediately have Penelope ping your phone when you left?”
You exhale sharply. “I turned my phone off.”
A short laugh leaves Elle, “Not soon enough.” She turns, a hand on her hip. “You got any beer?”
Your brow furrows, wondering who the hell you just invited into your house. You shake your head as you cross into the kitchen and open the fridge. You withdraw a big bottle you’d bought at the corner drug store. “I’ve got wine.”
Elle smiles. “That’ll work. Let’s head down to the beach.”
•
“Thanks,” Elle says coolly as you finish tipping wine into the plastic cup in her hand. You cap the bottle and shove it down into the sand between the foldable beach chairs you’d dragged down from their place on the deck after you’d gotten changed into something more appropriate to wear outside than a bathrobe.
You retrieve your cup from where you’d been holding it between your legs and take a long sip before sighing and settling back into your chair, the canvas stretching as you do so.
For a moment, you and Elle sit there in silence; watching the orange pink colors of the sunset start to streak across the sky as the waves crash against the sand.
“I had no idea about Haley,” she says after another minute goes by and you stiffen. It isn’t that you and Aaron never talk about her. Keeping her memory alive is so important for Jack and you know a part of Hotch will always love her. That’s never bothered you though. Aaron had told you that he and Haley had talked about that if something ever happened to either one of them that they would want the other to eventually move on and find love again, that they didn’t want the other one to spend the rest of their life lonely. I’m sure neither one of them ever imagined something like what had happened to Haley would ever come to pass though.
“Did you know her?” you ask, your voice tight with emotion at the thought of ever having to endure a loss like that. You’d joined the team years after her death and hadn’t known Hotch during the time he’d grieved her loss. From the stories he and Jack had shared, she seemed like she’d been a kind soul and a good mother.
Elle nods, her gaze fixed on the view though you see a glint of memory in her eyes. “Hotch wasn’t as serious then.” She pauses and smirks to herself. “Don’t get me wrong, he was still a hard ass, but there was also a lightness to him before and right after Jack was born. I remember when they first brought him into the office, such a tiny little thing all bundled up in his arms. Him and Haley had looked so at ease.” She sighs and takes a swig of her wine before continuing. “I think that’s when the job started to get to him, after he had a kid.” Her brow pinches for a moment. “I think Hotch started to see the men and women we put away more as the proverbial monsters that kids fear are lurking in their closets, except we know what horribly evil things the monsters are really capable of versus what a kid’s imagination can drum up. The worst their little minds can conjure up pales in comparison to the heinous files that cross his desk. I think Hotch wanted to protect that innocence so badly and shield Jack from all of the evil in the world that he threw himself further and further into his work, especially after how things with The Fisher King went down.” Your eyes don’t miss the way her hand presses against her abdomen. The stake jutting out of Emily’s stomach flashes in your mind and you flinch at the memory.
“Something happened,” observes Elle. She sits up in her chair, resting her elbows on her knees as she looks at you.
You scoff and take another drink, shaking your head as you do so. “Once a profiler, always a profiler.”
Elle chuckles and shrugs. “Old habits die hard.” Her features soften as she turns toward you. “Something happened though, didn’t it? I know you probably can’t share too many details. Hotch didn’t in the voicemail he left you.”
You perk up at that. “Voicemail?”
Elle nods, the gold hoops in her ears swinging as she does so. “Sorry,” she laughs coolly as she reaches into the pocket of her jeans. “I probably should’ve led with that.” She fishes her cell phone out and swipes her thumb across the screen. You brace yourself as Aaron’s throaty tenor echoes from the speaker on her phone.
“Elle, hi,” he starts and stops. An exasperated sigh follows. “It’s Aaron Hotchner with the BAU I—of course you know I’m with the BAU I don’t know why I led with that. Look, I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from after all of these years but I didn’t know who else to call. I can’t,” his voice wavers here for a moment. “I can’t share details about the case we’re working on, but it’s bad and I had to make a decision.” He stops and clears his throat. “It was a decision that impacted the whole of the team and where it was for their protection, I may have ruined the best thing to have happened to me in years. Look, I know you left the Bureau. I know you changed your name to put distance between you and the BAU, and I don’t blame you. In fact, I think I understand you now more than ever. This job, the toll it takes—” his voice trails off and you hold your breath in anticipation. He goes on to explain who you are and why you left, obfuscating the exact details of the Ian Doyle case for security reasons. He explains how after no one had heard from you for forty eight hours that he’d worked with Garcia to ping your location, how he was more worried than anything else and just needed to know that you were safe. When Penelope had located you, he remembered that Elle had always talked about living on the coast. It had been a shot in the dark, but Penelope being Penelope, she’d been able to find Elle in a matter of hours. “I just need to know she’s safe,” he breathes. “Please, Elle. If anything happens to her, I don’t know what I’ll do. I can’t lose someone else. I have to do better; by you, by Haley, by the team. I’ll spend the rest of my life making amends, but please, with this case still active, I just need to know that she’s ok. Call me back,” his voice quavers. “Please.”
The line goes dead and Elle slides her phone back into her pocket. “That was three days ago.” Elle’s brow arches, looking for a response. “So,” she adds, drawling out the ‘o’ sound. “Sounds heavy.”
You draw in a deep breath and down the rest of your wine. Aaron had sounded so tired on the phone. Guilt squeezes around your heart as you think about what he and the team must be dealing with. It’s reckless and stupid of you to have just up and left when Doyle is still out there with you and the rest of his team in your sights. You didn’t even bring your gun, sure that you’d be sending in your resignation after this cover up; but hearing his voice on Elle’s phone, the pain in it. What you’d been trying to ignore this entire time begins to wriggle its way toward the forefront of your mind; and that’s the hell this must have put Hotch and Emily through. You know he’d never do anything to hurt you, not intentionally, but how are you supposed to trust him if he could watch you suffer through the agony of her loss knowing at any point in time he could’ve put a stop to it? You squeeze your eyes shut because you know the obvious answer. There are things he has to do as Unit Chief, choices only he can make. Choices that don’t involve you or the rest of the team, and that doesn’t change because you two are an item. Still, the conflict wages on inside of you. All of this is true and he’s made choices and decisions that impact the team before, just never on this scale; not something that alters memories and fucks the psyche so irreparably.
“The heaviest,” you finally respond.
“You can talk to me about it,” she says, and you know her words are genuine. “I know I don’t have clearance anymore, so the cliff notes version works too.”
So, you tell her. About Emily, about Hotch, what you can about Doyle, the circumstances around Emily’s death, the grief, her undeath, the betrayal you felt, and everything that brought you to this moment with her.
Elle releases a low whistle and scoops the wine bottle up from the sand, pouring herself another glass and topping yours off. “That’s—” She pops her lips, considering. “Elaborate.”
“I’d say mind-fuck, but elaborate works too.” You quip bitterly and take a drink.
Elle cocks her head. “Hotch doesn’t do anything without careful consideration.”
You inhale deeply before taking another drink, a warmth starting to crawl beneath your flesh as the alcohol sinks in. You hang your head as you respond. “I know.”
“There’s a reason that I left the Bureau,” Elle says after a long stretch of silence. “I made a decision that ended my career, and it’s one I’d make again if I had to.” Her voice grows tight for a moment before she clears her throat and continues. “This job will drain you until there’s nothing left. I remember on the day I left I told Hotch about how I’d get so excited when my phone rang because it meant we had a case; but after I got shot in my own house and was lying on the floor feeling that man’s fingers inside of my gut, something changed in me forever that day. I went back to work after some time, but it was never the same. After that, every time my phone rang I felt paralyzed with fear because I knew what it was like to feel the way those victims felt in the moments leading up to their deaths.” Her voice quavers for a second and she swipes at a stray tear before choking out a laugh. “You’re not the same after something like. I know what it’s like to come back from the brink of death, and it sounds like this Emily knows too.” She stretches out a hand and grips your knee. “The only difference is that after I nearly died, I had the team. I had Spencer, Derek, Penelope, and JJ, hell Hotch was the one that came to my house and scrubbed the blood off of my walls before I got out of the hospital.” Her brow arches in response to my widening eyes. “Didn’t know that, did you?” She smiles and reclines back in her seat. “Emily didn’t have that. She didn’t have her friends, family,” she corrects. “Let’s be honest, the BAU becomes your family after a while.”
You nod in agreement.
“She went through that alone,” Elle continues and a pang of guilt shoots through you. “She didn’t have her family to turn to in a time where she probably needed you the most.”
It’s your turn to swipe at the tears that loose from your eyes. “I know that.” Your voice is tight as you choke back a sob. “I’ve always trusted the team, every one of them. How—” you suck in a shaky breath. “How am I supposed to trust them after this? What’s to stop something like this from happening again?”
Elle’s lips purse. “That’s the job we signed up for, isn’t it? Working for the government and all the shitty red tape they weave in and around the work we do.”
“If I go back,” you start. “I don’t think they’ll forgive me. I left when they needed me most. Doyle is still out there.”
Elle frowns and tilts her head back and forth. “You’ll never know if you don’t though. I couldn’t go back. My actions decided that for me. You have a choice, but you’re the only one that can make it.” She glances down at her watch and then out at the sun. It’s almost completely sunken down beneath the sea over the horizon, the orange and pink sunset fading to the purple gray hues of dusk. “I should probably get going.” She sets her cup down in the sand and stands, turning to you as she does so.
“Here,” she says, passing you a card from the back pocket of her jeans.
You take it, fingering the edges of the sturdy cardstock. Elle Greene: Social Services Coordinator is embossed in dark blue font followed by a cell phone, office number, and email listed beneath it.
“Call me if you ever want to talk. There are ways to do some good in this world without sacrificing your own happiness in the process.” She smiles at you before she starts toward the path that leads around the house and back to the road.
After a few moments, you jump up and call after her. “Hey Elle!”
She turns, brow arched toward her hairline as she waits for you to continue.
“Why’d you come?”
She slips her hands into her pockets and doesn’t say anything for a while, her green eyes focusing on her feet. When she looks up at you, there’s the faintest of smiles on her lips. “The day I left the Bureau I looked Hotch in the eye and told him that I used to wonder why he didn’t smile. When I heard that voicemail, despite how defeated he sounded, there was something in his voice that made me believe he’d found something to smile about again. When you work the job that you do, that I used to do, you have to hold on for dear life when you find the things that can make you smile after witnessing the things we do. I guess I don’t want him to lose what made him find his smile again; even after all these years I’ve spent angry at Hotch, I never hated him.” She sighs and looks like she wants to say more, but chooses not to. “Running away doesn’t solve your problems, it just keeps them at a distance until you’re finally brave enough to face them. I hope you find clarity faster than I did.” Her jeweled rings catch the last rays of sun as she raises a hand in farewell. “I’ll see you around.”
•
You pull your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around them, the blue and green plaid fabric of the couch scratching the backs of your legs as you do so. You bite at your thumb nail as you eye your powered down cell phone from where it sits on the glass coffee table in front of you.
Elle’s words from two days ago hang heavy in the air around you.
Running away doesn’t solve your problems. It just keeps them at a distance until you’re brave enough to face them. I hope you find clarity faster than I did.
If you turn on your phone, you know there will be a barrage of voicemails and text messages waiting for you. Or, there won’t be anything more than there was when you first shut it down. You turned your back on them when they needed you. It would be easy to write you off, after all that’s what you did isn’t it?
You drop your head back against the couch and groan, the feelings at war within you tearing at your insides; your guts twisted with equal parts betrayal over Hotch not telling you and the guilt of leaving the team instead of facing that anger and hurt head on.
It’s a giant mess; a tangled web of necessary lies and the red tape that binds the hands of those in positions over you and the rest of the team. The rational part of you understands this. In black and white terms, you understand that Unit Chief SSA Agent Aaron Hotchner had to make a decision to protect another agent, SSA Emily Prentiss. While Ian Doyle is a fugitive from the law believing her to be dead, her going into hiding not only took the target off of her back, but off the backs of all of your team members, yourself included, who otherwise would’ve been collateral damage in Doyle’s relentless pursuit of vengeance against Emily. All of this makes perfect sense.
It’s when the emotional, feeling half of you comes into play that the black and white turns to splotchy streaks of gray and you struggle to make peace with the rational side of things. When you look at it through this lens, your boyfriend and long term partner, Aaron, watched you throw up from dehydration over how long and how hard you’d sobbed over the death of best friend, Emily. At any point, he could’ve put a stop to your pain and didn’t.
Your fingers slide into your hair, gently tugging at the roots as you try to sort through these warring versions of yourself and the pieces of information and emotions that come with each. Because in your heart, you know and understand it’s not black and white. It’s gray and it’s messy. So, why can’t you reconcile both halves of yourself and just be okay with this then? Why can’t you just be overjoyed by the fact that your best friend is back from the literal dead? How many people in this life can say that that’s happened for them? Why can’t you just tell Aaron you understand what he did because you do, but at the same time you don’t? You wouldn’t have told anyone, but then that would be Aaron showing you preferential treatment and you’d be in no better position than he or JJ when it came to hiding this fact from the rest of the team. It’s something you’d talked about extensively when you first started dating and so far, it has been fine. He makes decisions that sometimes you agree with, sometimes you don’t. It is always just part of the job. So what does it all boil down to? Where does this leave you?
“Fuck me,” you whisper aloud as you dive forward and swipe the phone off of the table before you can really think about what you’re doing. You hold down the button on the side and it titters to life. For a moment, you close your eyes as you feel the vibrations pulsing in the palm of your hand, each one a notification of some sort. When they cease, you swipe directly to your contacts and select Aaron’s. His is the first to show alphabetically anyway. Your thumb hovers over the call button for only a second, before you exhale a shaky breath and hit the dial.
The phone barely presses against your ear as you catch the tail end of his hello. It’s after hearing his voice, that you’re rendered speechless.
“Baby, are you there?”
Your chest rises and falls, your heart rate quickening beneath your chest. You sniff as tears prick your eyes, not realizing how much you’d missed his voice until now.
“Aaron,” you squeak out, your voice cracking on his name.
“Baby, I’m so sorry,” Hotch says, a plea in his apology. “I promise I’ll do everything I can to fix this. I miss you. I love you.”
A sob shudders free from your lips as all of your walls come tumbling down and you let yourself break down to pieces of ash and stone. “I’m sorry I ran when you needed me.”
“It’s okay,” Aaron soothes. “It’s okay. It's over. We got him.”
You sit up and swipe under your eyes with the backs of your hands. “Doyle?”
“He’s dead.”
Panic rises in you. “And the team? Is everyone—”
“Everyone is fine. No one was hurt.”
You close your eyes and sink back into the cushions as your pulse levels out. “I’m on my way.”
“There’s no need,” he replies coolly.
Your brow pinches. “I don’t—”
The sound of a car door slamming echoes beyond the front door. You stand and the old t-shirt that belongs to Aaron falls to your thighs as you do so. You’d not even realized you’d packed it until you pulled it on after your shower earlier. The linoleum creaks beneath your feet as you cross through the kitchen and unlock the deadbolt. When you pull open the door, you gasp and drop your phone.
Aaron’s lips tremble as he smiles at you and takes the phone down from his ear. He ends the call and slips it into the pocket of his slacks. “I got in the car and just started driving,” he says as his glimmering eyes flit across yours, always the profiler checking for micro expressions. A desperate smile clings to his lips as he looks at you. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you breathe in response; unable to think of what else to say at the moment
His smile falters as he takes a step closer to you. You see his hand twitch ever so slightly at his side.
“Honey, I—”
You leap forward and throw your arms around his neck. He breathes a sigh of relief into your hair as his arms fold around you, his hands pressed flat against your back as if he can somehow hold you closer than he already is. His hands slide up your spine to curl around the back of your neck. When he pulls away, there are tear stains on his cheeks.
You reach up and swipe your thumbs under his eyes, his skin smooth beneath your touch. A smirk tugs at one corner of your mouth as you wonder when he had time to shave.
“This doesn’t mean I forgive you,” you say, still cupping his cheek in your hand.
He nods as he leans into your touch. “I know,” he says softly.
“I know why you had to do what you did.”
Another tear leaks from his eye as he presses his forehead to yours, cradling your hand against his cheek. “I never wanted to hurt you or anyone else, but I had to protect you.”
“I know,” you say and you mean it. “I also know why you couldn’t tell me. I’m a coward for running away, but I just—I was so overwhelmed by everything. I didn’t know how to cope with your return, with Emily’s, with everything. I would’ve been a hindrance if I’d stayed, but I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run.”
Hotch shakes his head as he steps back to look at you, the dark slash of his brow set as he does so. “What you did was not an act of cowardice. Trust me when I say you are not the only one that has a lot of anger and frustration aimed at me right now. Spencer snapped twice at JJ. Morgan laid into me, and I deserved it. JJ and I always knew that if and when this came to light, that there would be consequences for our actions. It was a calculated risk, and I take full responsibility for it. After you left, I gave everyone the option to leave if they didn’t think they could work the case. You knew you weren’t in the right headspace and pulled yourself out. It was the right decision and no one faults you for it.”
“I’m still so mad at you,” you say.
Aaron’s lips form a tight line. “I know.”
“But I also love you.”
His brow relaxes at that admission and relief floods his gaze. “I’ll take your use of the present tense as a good sign.”
You both chuckle at that and a shiver races through you as a sea breeze catches your hair and sends goosebumps up and down your arms. You wrap your arms around yourself and incline your head toward his SUV. “Your go bag in there?”
He nods and you flick your eyes up and down the length of his figure. “Go on then,” you encourage. “Get it and come inside before I change my mind.” You smile and you feel it reach your eyes for the first time in nearly a week. He withdraws the key fob from his pocket and smiles at it in his hand, before shaking his head with a quiet laugh and turns to head toward the car.
He pops the trunk and returns with his bag slung over his shoulder. “You look good in my shirt,” he compliments you with a sly smile as he passes through the front door. You close and lock the door behind him and point towards the bedroom. “Don’t think flattery will get you off the hook, Aaron.”
“You’re pointing me toward the bedroom, so I can only hope that’s a good sign.”
“Nearly a week has given me a lot of time to think,” you call after him as he disappears inside.
When he returns, his suit jacket is off and he’s loosening his tie from around his neck. “And what conclusion have you come to?”
“To be determined,” you muse as you approach him. You finger the tip of his tie and curl your fingers around it before tugging it free and dropping it to the floor.
One of Aaron’s brows arches as he regards you curiously. His hand curves around your hip and you press yourself against him. Heat pools in your belly, but you ignore the sensation, hard as that is after nine months without him. He dips his chin to kiss you and instead of meeting your mouth, he meets your finger instead. You press it against his lips and arch a brow. “Not so fast, Hotch.”
He winces and inhales sharply, a pink blush quickly coloring his cheeks. “I should’ve known it wasn’t going to be that easy.” He admits against your finger. “You only call me Hotch when I’m in trouble.”
Something between a scoff and a laugh leaves your lips as you poke him on the tip of his nose, the slope of which you’d missed so much since he’d been gone. “How about,” you start and loop your arms around his neck, “we just talk? From the beginning, tell me what went through your mind and what led to the decision. We can talk about Emily, her funeral, the grief. You can tell me what you can about Pakistan and I’ll tell you about how hard it was when you were gone. Tell me about when you and JJ knew you had to tell the team and I’ll tell you how it felt like I’d had my heart carved out of my chest and put through a blender. Tell me how it felt when I left and I’ll talk about the ways in which I wish I hadn’t but why I felt like I had to. Tell me why I should trust you and I’ll tell you why I want to, but am afraid. Tell me—”
Aaron catches your wrists in his hands and plants a firm kiss upon your lips. You envelope him with your own and revel in the familiar way they meld together, the taste of him like coming home. He pulls away, though his lips still hover over yours. “I promise I will tell you everything and more. We’ll talk until the sun comes up if that’s what it takes.”
You smile and when you speak, your lips brush against his. “I guess I ought to put some coffee on then.”
•
White rays of early morning sunshine break through the sheer curtains, casting soft light across the bed sheets. For the first time in nearly a year, you wake with Aaron’s arm securely around your waist. You breathe in deeply and the faint smell of coffee lingers in the air, two empty mugs leaving brown rings on the nightstand.
You don’t remember when you two had laid down to go to sleep, but remember laughing about it being 3:00 AM at one point and continuing talking in spite of that; and talked you two had. You’d tackled everything from the decision he and JJ made at the hospital all the way up until right now. You laughed and cried, and so did he. You’d never seen Aaron cry before last night, and you were grateful that he’d felt safe enough with you to be vulnerable like that. As the night had worn on, you’d felt the fractured pieces of yourself slowly start to pull together; that you can both heal from this and maybe even come out stronger on the other side.
Your phone buzzes on the nightstand and you reach for it, now being as good a time as any to tackle the number of unread texts and unheard voicemails. You can’t avoid them forever.
8 voicemails from Hotch, 2 from JJ, 6, from Penelope, 1 from Derek, and 1 from Emily. Your brow knits together as you view the time stamp next to her voicemail and it’s marked only an hour ago. Why would she have called you so early? Surely, Hotch would’ve let the team know that you’re safe and that he’s with you.
You open the app and press play, bringing the phone to your ear to avoid disturbing Hotch and Emily’s voice fills your head as you listen in.
“I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now…” Her voice is tired and her tone is genuinely apologetic. “…I missed everyone so much, but you. It tore me up inside knowing we didn’t get to say goodbye, that I didn’t get to explain to you why all of this had to happen and you had to mourn me. I knew Hotch would take care of you.” She chuckles softly and you picture her shaking her head. “God, that man adores you, you know that right? Knowing he’d be there to help you through things was a small solace, but I knew that the weight of asking him to keep this from you and the rest of the team would take a toll on him. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Doyle, he never—he never would’ve stopped hunting me and he would’ve used or killed everyone close to me to do so. If there had been any other way, I would’ve done it.” She sighs heavily. “Anyway, Hotch texted the team and myself last night that he’d gotten to you safely in Virginia Beach. I imagine you and him had a lot to talk about last night. It’s probably going to look like I’m copying a page out of his book, but you’re the only person I haven’t looked in the eye and apologized to, so I’ll be there in about an hour or so. Hopefully, you open the door.”
Your eyes widen as you drop the phone back onto the nightstand. After glancing at the clock and noticing it had been an hour and fifteen minutes since she called, you slip out of bed. Hotch stirs, but doesn’t wake and his hand moves to shift under the pillow and he nestles deeper into the blankets. God, he must be so exhausted. From the red eye flight from Pakistan to immediately leaping into and closing the Ian Doyle case, this is probably the first proper sleep he’s gotten in weeks.
The sound of tires crunching over gravel draws your attention to the living room. You pull on a pair of sweats and throw off the oversized shirt you’d slept in in exchange for a tank top, forgoing a bra in the process. You rush into the bathroom and rapidly brush your teeth, accepting there not being any time to fix your tousled bed head.
Footsteps echo up the walkway on the other side of the front door as you approach and before you can think it through, you throw the door open. You only take a second to confirm that it is in fact Emily on the other side of it before rushing forward and throwing your arms around her.
A loud oomph erupts from lips, the sound muffled as you turn your face into her neck. It takes a few seconds for her to react, her arms slowly folding around you as she realizes that it is in fact a hug that you’re giving her and not an attempt to take her to the ground.
Tears leak from your eyes onto the fabric of her purple top. “I’m sorry,” you murmur into her shoulder.
Emily pulls away, her hands not leaving your shoulders as her brown eyes flicker across your face; her features drawn. “You’re sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for. I came here to apologize.”
You shake your head as something between a laugh and a sob bubbles up from your throat. “I’m so mad at you,” you start and reach forward with both hands to clasp her face in yours. “But I am so happy that you’re not dead and I understand why you had to do what you did.” You smile and drop your hands before playfully shoving her. “A bit though, isn’t it? Faking your death and fleeing the country? Where’d you get that idea? Lifetime?”
Emily smiles, flashing her teeth as she inclines her head this way and that. “I did always have a flair for the dramatics.”
The door creaks then and you turn to watch Hotch push the door open. He smiles as he takes in the sight of you and Emily reconciling. “I put on a pot of coffee,” he says. “How many mugs should I bring out?”
You look between him and Emily. “Three,” you answer, turning your attention back to Emily. “Definitely three.”
Emily smiles and follows you inside, greeting Hotch with a short hug before joining you in the living room. As Hotch busies himself in the kitchen and the smell of coffee starts to fill the air, you start to feel like life might finally start to return to normal.
#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fic#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotchner criminal minds#aaron hotch fic#aaron hotchner headcanons#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x bau!reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner comfort#emily prentiss#elle greenaway#bau!reader#bau reader#emily prentiss fanfiction#emily prentiss fic#elle greenaway fanfic#elle greenaway returns#ian doyle#aaron hotchner hurt/comfort#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner drabble#emily prentiss drabble#elle greenaway drabble
211 notes
·
View notes
Note
jade!! if your reqs are still open… would you write emily and mom!r? kind of like you’ve been doing with hotch or steve (with noah). i feel like she’d be one of those people who speaks to kids like they’re tiny adults
Emily presses the flat of her wooden spoon into a blueberry and watches the skin of it burst open. It sinks into the oatmeal beneath, a soft beige turning lilac.
She flicks off the heat. She can’t cook like you can, but oatmeal makes itself. The mushy blueberries means the oats are soft enough for eating, usually. She dips a spoon in to check, adds a big pinch of salt, wonders if that’s stupid and eats another mouthful that burns her lips.
“Ouch,” she mumbles. Slowly, she tips her head from one side to the other. “But yummy.”
“Em-wy?”
“What?” She turns on the spot. There in the doorway stands your little girl, an ever-present smile on her face as she lifts her hand for a wave. “Hello,” Emily says
“Hi.”
“What do you want?”
“Water, please.”
Emily turns the handle of her pot before she bends down with her arms out, a gentle invitation. Sometimes Jane wants to be held, but usually she’s just hanging around. To Emily’s surprise, Jane skips and stumbles her way into Emily’s legs, where Emily takes her under the arms and pulls her up against her chest.
She smiles at Jane’s little face. She looks so much like you, and she’s such a sweet girl. “Hi, baby,” she says, not quite slipping into baby talk, but softer than she’d spoken to her before. “Where’s your mommy?”
Jane points down at the stove. “Breakfast?”
“You bet. Is mommy still getting dressed?”
“Maybe.”
Emily shifts Jane on her hip and turns to the cabinet for a sippy cup. “Okie dokie. Let’s make you your water, ‘cos you asked me so nicely. You want some apple juice too?”
Jane rubs her face against Emily’s shoulder with a yawn but doesn’t answer.
“Babe?” Emily calls. “Can I give her some apple juice?”
You swing around the corner. Emily’s apartment is big, sound carries, and yet she’d had no idea you were so close. You’ve changed your shirt but your pyjama bottoms remain, your hair out of your face —her heart gives a jump. To love someone and to know you’re lucky to have them simultaneously can often inspire tachycardia.
“Sure,” you say.
You’re wearing her socks, your pyjama pant legs pooled around your feet, and your shirt baggy but short at the arms. You have the most lovely arms. It’s stupid, but Emily knows it’s true. She could kiss every inch of each one without getting bored. Not that you need to know that about her.
You slide across the kitchen tile to give Jane a light peck. Smiling, you turn Emily’s face with your pinky finger and give her an even softer one, careful of her makeup. “Good morning.”
“Yeah, good morning,” Emily says, bouncing Jane higher up her side. “You look ready for another day in bed.”
“Do you really have to go?”
“You know I do, it’s Monday.”
“We should petition for longer weekends. Don’t you think so, bubby? Shouldn’t Emily stay home and make us all our meals? Mommy’s still tired.”
Jane hears your sweetened voice and holds her arms out to be held. You take her from Emily’s arms, and you lean against the counter as your smile fades. “I really wish you could stay,” you say more earnestly. “I miss you when you’re not here.”
“I’ll be home tonight, I promise. They know you’re not feeling well, nobody expects me to leave you here with the baby all by yourself.” Not feeling well is an understatement that neither of you comment on. Emily just wants to rub the tension right out of your shoulders. She doesn’t have the time.
“I used to be by myself before,” you point out.
“I know. But now we’re together, and I love you, and I’ll be back tonight.” She hates the crestfallen set to your brow. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. I’m being silly.”
Emily thinks about it, her finger creeping up to rub Jane’s soft cheek. “Mommy’s not silly, is she?” she asks in a murmur. “She’s beautiful.”
Jane nods her head clumsily. “Yes.”
“See? If Janie thinks so, it must be true.” She smiles until you smile back. “I’ll be home by six. Cross my heart.”
“Can I have another kiss before you go? Won’t mess up your lips, I promise.”
Emily could never say no to you. She didn't want to, but she couldn’t. She leans in careful not to crush your little clinger and lets her eyes shutter closed, her breath held as you tip your chin down and your noses press together. You might be cautious of her makeup, but Emily isn’t. Her kiss is a promise that she’s gonna come home tonight. She can’t always keep them, but right now she’s determined.
She pulls away. Your lips are red with transferred lipstick that moves with your smile.
“Kiss me?” Jane asks.
“Who, me?” Emily asks.
Jane nod. Emily presses a chaste kiss to Jane’s chubby cheek, and rubs the lipstick away with similar tenderness. “Let me get you your juice, bub, and then I really gotta go.”
#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss x you#emily prentiss x y/n#emily prentiss x fem!reader#emily prentiss imagine#emily prentiss fluff#emily prentiss fanfic#emily prentiss oneshot#emily prentiss scenario#emily prentiss drabble#emily prentiss fic#emily prentiss fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
329 notes
·
View notes
Note
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
autistic fem!plus size reader, wc: 517.
cw! asshole elders :/
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!
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.
“I beg your pardon?” You ask with furrowed eyebrows.
“Hold it now, sweetheart. Don’t just go markin’ up stuff.”
“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
#✰ ― meau's inbox !#emily x reader#emily prentiss x reader#emily x fem!reader#emily prentiss x fem reader#emily fanfiction#emily prentiss fanfiction#emily prentiss#emily prentiss angst#emily prentiss fluff#emily prentiss x plus size reader#plus size reader#x plus size reader#plus size!reader#chubby reader#x chubby reader#fanfiction#fluff#angst#girlfriend emily prentiss#emily prentiss imagine#emily prentiss oneshot#emily prentiss drabble#emily prentiss blurb#emily cm#emily prentiss cm#emily criminal minds#emily prentiss criminal minds#cm#criminal minds
186 notes
·
View notes
Text
gorgeous
emily prentiss x gn!reader
cw kissing her thighs omfg, lingerie hehehe, idk!
“hey babe! i’m-…”your voice trailed of as you walked into your bedroom, mouth dropping open as you surveyed the sight in front of you
emily’s lean body was barely covered with lacy black lingerie, the dark mesh of the bra almost see-through. you raked your eyes further down her body, licking your lips as you saw the equally lacy garter belt attached to translucent thigh-high stockings.
“fuck em..” you whispered, still entranced by her beauty. she giggled lightly at the shocked expression on your face and twirled to show you the full thing.
“pretty nice, huh..” she replied, smoothing her hands over her sides as she looked down at herself.
words failed you as you continued to look her up and down, before moving closer to her and placing your hands on her lace clad hips.
“you look fucking gorgeous.” you answered, kneeling down so you were face level with her thighs before pressing soft kisses above the stockings.
“so gorgeous.” you whispered into her soft skin between kisses. she smiled down at you lovingly, blush spreading across her face as you placed more kisses along the pale flesh of her plushy thighs.
#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss smut#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#emily prentiss blurb#emily prentiss drabble#drabble#blurb#fanfic
348 notes
·
View notes
Text
m.list - emily prentiss
blurbs:
emily would still love you if you were a worm
fake dating emily
witch!emily (hogwarts au)
doctor!emily
dancing in the rain with emily
emily has a perfect nose
professor!emily
emily + rivals to lovers (rockstar au)
trying to date emily in secret
#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss imagine#emily prentiss scenario#emily prentiss oneshot#emily prentiss one-shot#emily prentiss one shot#emily prentiss headcanon#emily prentiss headcanons#emily prentiss hc#emily prentiss hcs#emily prentiss fanfiction#emily prentiss fanfic#emily prentiss fic#emily prentiss blurb#emily prentiss drabble#emily prentiss dialogue#emily prentiss fluff#emily prentiss x reader fanfiction#emily prentiss angst#emily prentiss smut#emily prentiss masterlist
133 notes
·
View notes
Text
More
Emily Prentiss x reader
covers the "3am confessions" for @adarafaelbarba 's bingo
It was relatively often that Emily found herself knocking on your apartment door at a late hour of the night, especially if it was a night she got home after working a rather troubling case. The two of you had met at a bar, a night you were both conveniently out on the prowl, a teasing comment, a lingering touch leading to full on flirtation before you were tangled in your sheets until the sun came up. Emily left her contact information but was quick to tell you that this was never going to be anything more than casual, she wasn’t looking for anything more than friends with benefits. Her job was crazy, she’d tried to date in the past and everyone always had problems with the hours, the danger, the last minute taking off to out of state cases and not knowing when she’d be back. You simply shrugged, letting her know that you didn’t really date, it complicated things and your own schedule was hectic enough. So you were both on the same page and had no issues with the decisions made.
You usually let Emily come to you, knowing her schedule was much more crowded than yours and it usually involved late night calls and meet ups, times that you could always agree to versus the random days where you happened to be off and you were sure she was in office. Nothing ever went past the usual hook up, maybe a little bit of post sex cuddling, she’d sleep over if it was a really late night and most days the two of you would end up sharing coffee and breakfast before she’d leave. But you never went out, it was only the rare days one of you was already out at a bar, finding no one to take home that you’d text the other and maybe meet up out before returning to the privacy of your apartment to have your way with each other.
This week the case had been a particularly tough one for Emily, she’d called you the moment she’d gotten off the jet. It would likely still be hours before she could make it to your place but she wanted to make sure you were free, that she wouldn’t have to go home to an empty cold apartment tonight. As per usual, you’d offered her a drink, asked if she was hungry and tonight she simply downed the gin before pouncing on you, dragging you to the bedroom and honestly you weren’t complaining.
Hours later, you’d fully distracted each other by bringing the other to their peak as many times as possible, only stopping when they begged you to you were finally satisfied, distracted from reality. Emily was a little more clingy than normal, accepting your embrace as you came down from your highs. You pressed a kiss to her forehead, trying to figure out if she was going to take off into the night or if she would be there when you woke up. It didn’t take long for you to realize she’d clearly had a rough week and was in it for the long haul. You flicked on the bedroom tv, tossing the remote to her, telling her you’d be right back, grabbing a shirt before you padded through the apartment.
You returned with a bag of chips, a box of cookies and a pint of ice cream with two spoons sticking out of it, tossing the picnic down on the bed before crawling back into it. Emily had chosen one of your usual go to’s to marathon so you nestled in beside her as the two of you tore into the snacks. The hesitancy was nearly radiating off her, like she wanted to talk about the case they’d just wrapped, but you were never going to press her to talk about the crazy shit she saw at work. The chips and cookies had found their way to the bedside table, Emily hoarding the ice cream, your head resting on her shoulder as you watched the show in front of you. She suddenly paused, tossing the spoon into the container with a heavy sigh, dropping it onto the table.
“I think I want more…”
“It’s late but I’m sure I can find something to order.” You chuckled, reaching out for your phone, “why do you think I asked if you’d eaten?”
Her hand came up, gently pushing your phone and hand down to the bedspread, “no…” she glanced up at you, “I… I mean with us.”
“Oh?” You faltered, shifting slightly so you could properly face her. She took a heavy breath, ducking her gaze for a moment before her hand found yours, linking with your fingers.
“I know what we agreed to and if you want to keep it at that, that’s fine.” She paused, waiting for you to interject, to say something that opposed her words but you didn’t so she kept going. “There’s just…. There’s something that draws me to you every time the jet lands. Every time we finish a case it’s you that I want to see, it’s you that I want to come home to…. I know it sounds lame, but most days it feels like everyone else has somewhere to be, people to see… and I want you to be that for me… if… if you want that.”
“Em…” you whispered, your hand cupping at her cheek as you gazed across at her, “you know… when you want to be soft you’re really fucking soft.” You giggled, leaning in to kiss her gently, “are you asking me to be your girlfriend, or do you want to take it one step at a time? Maybe start with dinner this week?”
“I.. uh..” she laughed, ducking her gaze, ever the hesitant, “I know that I like you, I like spending time with you. I want to be able to talk to you about the kind of shit that goes on during cases, parts of my past…. And I know not everyone is okay with that. I mean, we can always put a pause button if things are getting too weird.”
“That sounds perfectly reasonable. If I get to complain about how stupid my coworkers are, you should get to vent about your job too, no matter how dark things are.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” You pulled her hand up to your lips, kissing the back of it.
“Well..” she huffed out a small laugh, “then I guess I am asking you to be my girlfriend.”
“Well then I fully accept.” You couldn’t help the smile that broke out on your lips as you leant in to kiss her softly.
___________
@svulife-rl @ssa-sapphic @mickey-gomez @clarawatson @yesterdaysgone @hbkpop @cabotfan42 @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @andreasvu @softgamerking @httpjupiterbby @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry @mysticfalls01 @anya-casablanca @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @aliensaurusrex @alcabots @7thavenger @ladysc @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @disneyfan624 @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @gamma-ray-bursts @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @bookpillows @daffodil-heart @msvenablesbitch @its-soph-xx @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece
#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x reader#criminal minds#adarafaelbarbabdaybingo#emily prentiss drabble#emily prentiss fluff
362 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wandering hands | emily prentiss x reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, r is putting on makeup, no use of yn, clingy emily
Summary: Doing your makeup didn’t usually take much time. However, with a certain brunette wrapped around you, her head in your neck as you try to get ready, it proves to be quite the challenge.
Word count: 0.9k
Doing your makeup didn’t usually take much time. However, with a certain brunette wrapped around you, her head in your neck as you try to get ready, it proves to be quite the challenge.
“Em,” you laugh as she squeezes your waist. Her hands are warm, soft, her fingertips digging your shirt deeper into your skin. Her shirt, but that’s besides the point.
“Hmm?” You can feel the vibration of her voice when she speaks into your collarbone. The ends of her hair tickle your skin and you breathe in, just a little too sharply.
“You’re distracting me,” you murmur, briefly closing your eyes as her lips travel up your jaw. Emily smiles against your skin, her hand coming up to lightly cup your neck.
“Am I?” She whispers, low and teasing. Your pulse stutters beneath her fingertips and she grins. She’s warm against you, each of her thighs laying over your crossed legs, trapping you in place as her hands wander, dip under your shirt and over your skin.
The makeup brush shakes in your hand—ever so slightly. Emily’s lips press into your cheek, soft and sweet.
You sigh.
She smiles.
“Let’s just stay here tonight,” she murmurs, gently taking the brush from your shaky grip. She drops it on the floor, slips her fingers into your hair and tilts your face toward hers.
God, those brown eyes.
“I can think of better stuff for us to do than go to some boring party, can’t you?” Her voice is warm honey as she bumps her nose against yours, pleading, her fingers tightening in your hair.
Your skin grows warm from her proximity. Your breath catches, but you try to remain firm.
“Pen’s hosting it for us,” you remind her. With your other hand free, you can’t help but let it wander, too. You start at her waist, feeling the gentle curves beneath your palm as you go up, up, till you reach the hard line of her jaw and the plush softness of her lips.
Emily’s lashes flutter, a soft exhale escaping her lips and fanning across yours. You smile as she tugs on your hair just a little, the hitch in her breath telling you she’s just as affected as you are.
“Nobody told her to, though,” she grouches, her lips jutting out in a pout.
She looks adorable.
You laugh and close the meager distance between you two, pressing your lips to hers and kissing the pout off.
Emily immediately hums, her warm hands cupping your cheeks as she shifts on your thighs and practically onto your lap. With her lips against yours and the soft silkiness of her hair between your fingers, you find it damn hard to find a legitimate reason to go.
Your brain fogs when she lightly digs her teeth into your bottom lip, a gentle, teasing nip before she pulls back, mouth flushed pink. Her eyes glint at your too loud breaths, your chest lightly heaving as you suck air back into your lungs.
Emily drags her thumb across your bottom lip. “But if you want to go, I guess,” she shrugs fakely in compliance, but you see the coy smile peeking out. Her thumb travels down to your jaw, sweeps back and forth across your pulse as she looks at you, waiting for you to refuse.
Truthfully, the appeal is starting to grow dull. But you promised Penelope.
“I still wanna go.” You say, but it doesn’t have much effect with the way your voice is breathless.
Emily sighs heavily and picks up your discarded makeup brush. “Shame,” she murmurs, taking your face in her other palm.
Your hands fall to her waist as she takes over doing your makeup. She hums softly as she drags the brush over your cheekbones, your temple, your jaw, a murmured French song slipping past her lips. She’s gentle, her touch light and practiced as she finishes up your eye makeup, her soft breaths hitting your skin as she leans into you.
You’re preoccupied with the way her tongue peeks out in concentration as she carefully draws your eyeliner, one hand steady on your jaw and the other resting on your cheek.
Her lashes are impossibly long, casting dark shadows that kiss her cheeks. Unthinkingly, you slip your hands under the hem of her flimsy tank, your fingertips meeting warm skin.
Emily hums and removes the eyeliner brush from your skin, leaning back to look at you in mock disapproval.
“Who’s the one distracting me now?” She murmurs. Her steady brown eyes meet yours, bright and shining with affection. The corner of her lip is pinched, and you know she’s biting back a smile.
You smirk. “Just giving you a taste of your own medicine, Prentiss.” You skim your knuckles across her ribcage and she takes in a sudden breath.
“Brat.” She drops the eyeliner and leans in close, her chest brushing yours as she takes your face in her hands.
“Asshole,” you return, your tone nothing but loving as she kisses you again. Her lips turn up in a smile against yours and you smile back, gathering her tank top between your fingers.
Needless to say, you two are the last to arrive at Penelope’s party.
*My first emily x reader! I hope you enjoyed <33 I’d possibly like to write more for her, so if you’ve got any requests, pop in my inbox and let me know!
#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss x you#emily prentiss x y/n#emily prentiss fluff#emily prentiss fic#emily prentiss blurb#emily prentiss fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you#criminal minds fanfiction#emily prentiss imagine#emily prentiss drabble#divider creds: cafekitsune#emily prentiss fanfic
352 notes
·
View notes
Text
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
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
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"
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
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)
#emily prentiss#wlw#criminal minds x reader#emily prentiss imagine#emily prentiss x reader#lesbian#lesbian pride#wlw fanfic#wlw smut#emily prentiss lesbian#emily prentiss x y/n#emily prentiss x female reader#emily prentiss drabble#emily prentiss oneshot#emily prentiss fluff#emily prentiss fanfiction
272 notes
·
View notes
Text
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.
#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss fanfic#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#emily prentiss fluff#emily prentiss drabble
330 notes
·
View notes
Note
PROTECTIVE EMILY WITH READERRRRRR
i would love to witness emily go a lil feral if maybe the unsub punches reader or something. the things that woman makes me feel 😩😩😩 i wanna be held by her and have her kiss my tears away
‘𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭’
༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; emily prentiss x gn bau!reader
༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; guns and typical cm case stuff, reader is shot in the shoulder but is okay, rephrasing of the iconic “I’ve got a Glock leveled at your crotch. What’s to stop me from taking you and the little ones out?” line, stressed emily :( and concerned emily, she blamed herself :(, you don’t blame her, kissingg<3.
༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 1k
༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; i don’t think this is the exact situation you wanted, but this is the direction i took it. not proof read.
cm masterlist ; main masterlist ; request guidelines ; inbox
“Honey, don’t.”
You gave a silent nod, pressing your lips together in an attempt to keep your mouth shut. Her hand was pressed against your chest, the chest protected by the bulletproof vest you were wearing. She gave you a light pat before drawing her gun and swiftly turning the corner.
Two shots from her Glock is all it took before the unsub was out cold. You all knew he would try to ambush the two of you, just like he did with his victims, and so Emily needed you to be quiet in order for the situation to go the right way. Fortunately, it was easier than you guys had anticipated, and as she bent down to confiscate the perpetrator's weapon, she was taken aback when she looked up to see you turned around the other way, standing beside her with your gun drawn.
“Drop your weapon!” You yelled to the unknown man, but it was too late because he had already fired his shot at you. Luckily, his aim wasn’t too great, and even though you were hit by the bullet, it was in your shoulder, nowhere where the damage couldn’t be undone. You yelped, pushed back slightly by the force, hitting the brick wall behind you, completely caught off guard.
He doesn’t have a chance to redo his shot, because Emily is on it, aiming her gun at a particularly low area on his body.
“I’ve got a Glock leveled at your crotch. Nothing is stopping me from taking you and the little ones out right now, so I’d advise you to listen to my partner and drop your weapon.”
The second unsub falters at that, clearly not wanting to sacrifice his private parts just for the opportunity to maybe shoot two FBI agents and have even more charges against him than he already has. With her words, he slowly lowers down to the ground, placing his weapon down and sliding it across the ground to her.
She stops the gun while still never taking her eyes off him. “Now, hands behind your back.”
“Two unsubs? Two of them! How didn’t we know there were two of them?” She thinks aloud, pacing back and forth right in front of where you sit in the back of an ambulance. She runs a hand through her hair, sighing deeply.
“Em,” You drawl, looking at her with a look her brain, clouded by anger towards the man who hurt you, convinces her is betrayal, but in actuality is just concern.
“It’s my fault, you’re hurt and it’s my fault because I was so sure there was only one unsub.”
She winces at the memory of watching you get shot injury, her vision flashing back to the sight of you leaning yourself up against the wall, hand pressed over your shoulder, blood seeping through your fingers and down your sleeve.
“Emily, sit down and take a breath before you pass out and hit the ground and I’m no longer the only one sitting in the back of an ambulance, getting treated for a wound.”
“Right, you’re right, y/n,” she swallows, moving to sit down next to you on the edge of the ambulance. “It was just your shoulder, and we’ll be going back home soon. I didn’t mean to stress you out, it’s just I can’t stand seeing you in pain like how you were when he shot you.”
The EMT who’s treating your shoulder wound moves to your side, making room for Emily who’s now sitting on your left. You were shot in the right shoulder, so the EMT is still able to work on bandaging you up.
“I know Em, and you should know that it’s not your fault. None of us could have seen that turn of events happening, not even Reid, so don’t beat yourself up for it. And I also know you’re salty that Hotch won’t let you go over to the station to interrogate the man, but that’s most definitely for the best. I know what you’re like when you’re upset with someone for hurting the ones you love, and the guy seems like a pussy, I’m sure he would crap his pants.”
Emily lets out a small chuckle at your comment, the tension slowly dissipating from her features as she leans into your side. "You’re probably right, y/n," she admits, her voice softening with gratitude. "As much as I want to give that guy a piece of my mind, I know it's probably for the best if I leave it to Hotch, just this time."
You offer her a reassuring squeeze with the hand of your uninjured arm, a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity.
She meets your gaze, her eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion as she leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.
She pulls back, smiling at you.
“You’re very strong, you know that y/n?”
You nod. “You remind me all the time.”
Emily breathily chuckles. “I mean it. You don’t let things like this phase you, and I admire that quality.”
This time you’re the one leaning in, pressing a kiss to her darkly-colored lips.
“Thank you for noticing, and for caring so deeply for me to the point that you get yourself all worked up about it. But also please don’t let your concern get to the level where you’re stressed like that, especially over something you didn’t have control over.”
“I can't make any promises.. but I will try, for you.” She seals her words with another kiss to your lips, the lips now tainted by her lipstick.
“All done,” the EMT says with a smile, pulling you two from your little shared moment.
“Let's get back to the station, y/n,” Emily says, hopping down from the vehicle and offering her hand to you, which you very gratefully accept.
#reidsdaisies#reidsdaisies emily <3#emily prentiss#emily prentiss fluff#emily prentiss scenario#emily prentiss imagine#emily prentiss blurb#emily prentiss drabble#emily prentiss oneshot#emily prentiss fanfic#emily prentiss fanfiction#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss x female reader#emily prentiss x gender neutral reader#emily prentiss x fem!reader#emily prentiss x gn!reader#criminal minds#emily prentiss criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds x reader
413 notes
·
View notes
Text
emily prentiss drabble
warnings/content: angst™; grammar mistakes probably this isn't edited.
“okay, you mourned the loss of six friends but at least you knew we were alive, didn't you?” you spat before opening the car door. emily had followed you outside when you thought you had escaped her by rushing off the office. you were wrong. you stood silent until she said that and then you couldn't let it go like she carried the reason.
truth was, no one carried the reason. you were feeling angry and betrayed and she was hurt and raw from being back.
“that's not fair,” she said, voice cracking. right.
you scoff, keys clicking as you squeezed the strap of your bag as hard as you could so you wouldn't sob in the middle of the FBI parking lot where all your friends were entering their cars a few feet away from you. you knew they were watching the scene unfold, you just hadn't the will to stop.
“you think it was fair when I buried an empty casket thinking my girlfriend's body was in there?” emily closed her eyes, inhaling shakily. look at me. “you think it was fair when I spent weeks morning over someone who was in Paris playing crossword puzzles with one of my best friends?” you heard some feet moving closer and if you could bet a thousand dollars, those were JJ's heels. well, that's convenient. “i'm sorry, emily. if it seems like I'm frustrated that you're back. no. I'm frustrated that I've been lied to by three of the people that I trust the most. if you expected that I'd welcome you back from the dead with open arms and laugh in joy, I'm truly sorry. maybe one day, I'll be able to do that.”
you turned around, yanking the door open and throwing your stuff on the passenger seat as you entered the driver's side, shutting the door.
_
a/n: i was feeling angsty today. don't know what this is.
#lesbian emily prentiss#criminal minds fanfiction#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss fanfic#emily prentiss drabble
129 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
ucboi
Untitled
maxorso
Senza titolo
windenfalls
victoria
great-and-small
All Creatures Great and Small
barneyrat
Barney The Rat